#he had the opportunity to save wade’s family after not being able to save his own :(((

[worstwolvie]

going insane over the fact that logan was possibly planning to ditch wade after tying him up in the honda but he found the polaroid outside the car, climbed back in, and fell asleep with it in his hand. oh and of course he put it in his pocket at some point and held onto it for wade before giving it back to convince wade not to sacrifice himself

[nichknack]

Wandering Witchbreed AU: Wade Wilson, That Damned Dead Fool

AU MASTERPOST

Armour

Wade's outfit in this AU is rather intricate. He wears a black and red jester's outfit that covers most of his body, complete with a jester's hat. His face covered with by a white porcelain mask with red diamond-shaped detailing around the eyes. He carries a set of Katanas with him wherever he goes, their scabbards are strapped to his back by black leather which crisscrosses over his chest.

Sexuality and Relationships

Wade is openly pansexual and polyamorous. At it's core, the AU is focused on Poolverine, but his relationship with and engagement to Vanessa also plays a massive role. This version of Wade also has feelings for Peter Parker (Amazing Spider-Man version), which I hope to explore once The Avengers and spider-men are introduced.

Past

Wade was born in the Kingdom of Kanata. Growing up, his family was extremely cruel and abusive. From a very young age, Wade learned to use self-deprivation and jokes as a coping mechanism to deal with his trauma. At the first available opportunity, Wade left his family and enlisted in the kingdom’s army. While he proved to be an extremely talented swordsman, his attitude and lack of respect for authority resulted in him being given an ultimatum: return home in disgrace or be executed. Not wanting to go back to his family, Wade strove out on his own. He spent years scraping by, taking whatever mercenary jobs he could get. Eventually, a job made him cross paths with Vanessa Carlysle, a prostitute with whom Wade found an immediate kinship with thanks to their shared sense of humour and sharp whit. While their life was hard, it was beautiful, and the two eventually became engaged. However, soon after their engagement, Wade’s health began to decline. Eventually he collapsed and was brought to a city healer who declared that there was nothing that could be done, he’d be dead within the year. Wanting to spare Vanessa the pain of watching him die, Wade abandoned her. Eventually, he was reached out to by a group of mages and sorcerers, who claimed to not only be able to cure his illness, but also give him abilities beyond his wildest dreams. Wade accepts their offer, believing he has nothing left to lose. Unknowingly, Wade had signed himself up for cruel arcane experimentation under the eye of a sadistic witchbreed, Ajax—who Wade quickly deduced was actually called Francis. The experimentation did in fact save Wade’s life, giving him the ability to rapidly heal and peer through the very fabric of reality itself, but also left him horrifically disfigured. While he was able to escape Francis, Wade felt that his disfigurement made him unworthy of Vanessa’s affection and fled from her once more, eventually crossing the boarder isn’t the Kingdom of Ventra.

[timextoxhajima]

Pastries and Royalty (WRITTEN BY YU)

Member: Haknyeon

Genre: fluff - royal au; baker!reader - prince!haknyeon

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: this is part of the 12 days of christmas collab hosted by @timextoxhajima

snow had blanketed every exposed surface like dusted sugar on any type of pastry if possible. and while it’d been a sight to see for some, many were cocooned in their homes as the clock counted its first seconds of the morning.

but wading through the layers of ice, there was you, with one destination in mind while the cold air rushed to your eyes like maidens on a ballroom dance floor rushing towards you, in awe of the elegant wear you’d put on. there was a reason why you went to bed just when the sun had started to set. you wished to put your best work out for the royal family to get a taste, even if that may only be admired from a distance.

several hours later, the last swirl had been perfected and the display of your art was ready to be transported to the castle where they all shone like they’d caught the first rays of sunshine in the morning. cakes and cookies, nothing had been left untouched.

the prince had heard about the bakery that served the best pastries and bread in the village but never had he seen the mastermind behind numerous art works and flavors he had the privilege of tasting. unbeknownst to him, you’d always watched the smile slowly appear on his face after his eyes had gone wide. it was the type of reaction you looked forward to, the type of reaction you’d like to take with you along your journey as a baker. 

~

in your childhood, cookies were made out of sand, as well as cakes. but back then they’d either be too runny or filled with cracks as water had been the only base to bind the different colors of sand together. flowers and leaves served as your piping work - messy, but a work in progress. you’d be nagged at by your aunt since she’d been annoyed at the clear missing scoops of sands and clay littering her yard, deeming your creations as useless. during drier seasons the sand would be hosed down to deter you from digging away your ingredients, but you always escaped with a giggle.

as you grew up, your childhood antic had slowly transformed into passions and realisation would strike when the real tools had to come out of your own pockets.

you remembered getting nagged at, playing around with real ingredients when you tried creating your own recipes. the skin bearing inspired recipes started shedding off when the taste keep straying from the original ones and the decoration reflected all that is you.

~

one day the curtain that hid you away from the prince’s knowledge had to be drawn. the bakery was only manned by you when he’d made an appearance. you’d been on your way to flip the sign so you could close up. 

“i apologize, your highness, but i have to close up shop.”

“i heard about the bakery that usually opens till late and sometimes it is the first shop with a lit corner,” he looked down at his watch as if to calculate the time, “hours before opening.” 

“many do have lights on hours before opening, your highness.”

“at 2 am ?”

you fiddled with your fingers, “we’re really passionate about our products.” you added a smile, showing off your pride. but something told you that he wasn’t fully convinced.

“is there perhaps something i could assist you with ?” prince haknyeon was known to return late whenever he’d been out and it mostly stems off the fact that he’d like to be back as soon as he finished something, rather than sleep away the remaining hours of the day to return the next day. you’d think that at times, it may have been safer to return the next day, but the prince had always been very fond of his friends and disliked being away from them too long if he was able to get back soon. unless he’d been abroad. 

haknyeon nodded, “i’m here to place an order for the upcoming christmas ball.”

“i see our last order was well received.”

“very well,” he smiled fondly, “but do tell me, who do i thank for such scrumptious treats ?” you were suddenly shrouded by shyness knowing that the prince himself had loved your deserts. your first try at that too!

“that’d be me.” you voice was tiny, but still audible enough for haknyeon to hear.

“excellent! have you gotten many orders since then ?” you’d only been employed for several months and you could only be grateful your recipes had been approved to take part in baking for the royal party.

“i’m trying to take it slow, we can only do so much with the piping set we have.” the bakery was small, possessed several seats and only two ‘piping artists’ who could tackle the work since the supplies weren’t grand. “as soon as i’ve saved up enough, i can come with my own piping set!” 

you tried not to sound so desperate in front of the prince but as soon as the words had left your mouth, you could only cry in silence behind the gentle grin you gave him. 

“hard work pays off doesn’t it ?”

“i’d like to believe so, your highness.” 

the prince’s presence wasn’t a secret for long as the order had to be given for preparations and of course others would linger around you like ants around a fallen sweet treat. throughout the days leading up to the ball, you had seen prince haknyeon several times and every smiles you had exchanged felt like a breath of fresh air and it seemed like you felt a lot more comfortable in your skin. working on the pastries came with buckets of joy and a couple servings of enthusiasm.

the cherry on top just had to be your invitation to the ball as the prince’s guest of honour for after all, the prince had quite a love for food.

but nothing compared to the struggle of finding the perfect outfit to wear as the room you’ve know before as your had suddenly become something you barely recognized as clothes lined up your walls like any wardrobe of a fashion show. 

~

your first time inside the castle was worth all the hassle you’ve put yourself through and seeing haknyeon come down the stairs just secured that feeling. 

unfortunately, it’d been quite a night to be wandering around the ballroom on your own since your companions hadn’t received an invitation, but haknyeon found ways to keep you company. be it his friends or even relatives who’ve gotten to know about the one being responsible for the desserts.

“you know what makes this all baffling ?”

you turned to him, eyes filled with curiosity and a mind that forgot the register his question with a response in the first few seconds.

“you know my name,” you sensed where this was all going, which made you laugh, “..but i don’t know yours.”

“you never asked, your highness.”

he waved you off, “oh stop it, if i’m going to be supporting you with your creations in the long run, there is no need for formalities..”

“but it’s barely been two months since you entered the bakery, it’s not like we’ve become buddies all of a sudden.”

“haven’t we ?” he challenged and you didn’t know what brought the situation to a point where you talked to him like you’ve known him since your childhood.

you pulled your neck back and stuck out your hand, only to retrieve it upon realizing that it might have been a rude gesture.

“i’m y/n and i guess, if you are willing, this marks the start of our friendship.”

haknyeon stuck out his hand towards you, glove-covered palm slightly facing up, “it’s nice to meet you y/n and i believe i have something for you.”

couldn’t miss the opportunity, he muttered, gently pulling you along to follow him towards the table that housed the food. he only had to duck slightly before pulling a carefully wrapped box in front of him. its wrapping looking far too intricate to allow yourself to even tear off a piece of tape.

“correct me if i’m wrong but did you say you had something for me?” he nodded.

“and the one you are holding now..” he nodded again even if you hadn’t finished your sentence, “is.. for me ?”

“every bit of it.” he pulled out a bag for easy carrying. “feel free to open it now.” he’d looked more excited than you have been, besides, you didn’t know what to expect.

“in front of all these people ? no way!”

“you could open it in the hallway if you don’t mind a few palace guards witnessing your surprise.” with how eager he was to see you open your present, you didn’t want to deny his request and by the looks of it, he’d really wanted you to see what he’d gotten you even if you barely knew of each other longer than two months.

and opening the present sure had been the highlight of your night as every inch of steel that your eyes had seen, was enough to make you want to shed some tears.

“this is.. this is not just a few..” the packaging were left on a nearby table as you gawk at your new possessions, “this is a whole set!”

“your new and very own piping set, just like you wished for!” he let out a giggle you were sure you never heard of, but didn’t complain about. “now you can even bake at your own pace and who knows.. open up your own dessert bar.”

“this is.. this is a lot, thank you, your highness.” tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes and haknyeon pulled out a handkerchief to help clear your vision again.

“you can call me haknyeon, you deserve each one of them, you really are great at what you do and i’d love to see what else my new friend can come up with.”

and sure enough, the kitchen was not only filled with joy and passion for your work from then on, but the determination to spread your wings slowly until it is known - far and wide - about your capabilities with flour, sugar and much more ingredients someone with a sweet tooth can imagine about. and with your newfound friend by your side, it was bound to be quite the adventure of your life.

[viscariaa]

Christmas When the World is Ending | One-shot

Ship: Saiouma/Oumasai

Words: 1321

Type: End-of-the-world / the world is a wasteland AU, fluff

Trigger Warning: Verge of a panic attack

Posted: 12.25.21

Description: As despair revenges throughout the world, two find peace. In a trashed house, there is hope in their hearts.

Notes: Hello lovelies <3 I wish you all a happy holiday and I hope this one-shot makes this day a little bit brighter!

Who knew it took the world to end for opposite people to communicate?

Shuichi could vaguely recall how the world used to be. Fresh air, clear skies, fresh grass… the list could go on forever, but nothing will come out of it. He remembers his classmates, all smiles as the school year was coming to an end, friends planning with one another.

Most of all, Kokichi stood out from his mind.

He was always pouncing on the opportunity to lie. To bother Kaito, Maki, and really any one of their classmates, especially Shuichi. However, he always carried a sense of charisma that Shuichi couldn’t help but be attracted to.

His charisma couldn’t be more crucial than when the school building collapsed.

It left nothing behind but dust and debri and yet Kokichi was the first to find him under a pile of rocks. It was a miracle he was able to live. The rest of their classmates were scattered, some already having already left the premises… but not Kokichi. For some strange reason, he was glued to Shuichi despite the dangers.

“O-Ouma-kun? Wh-what…?”

“Save your breath.”

From then on, the two former rivals were two peas in a pod. As despair runs rampant across the globe, Shuichi and Kokichi had each other. No matter what they were together, from scavenging for food to fending off against Monokumas. They had even become lovers.

Which is why being by himself for the first time in 3 years doesn’t feel natural.

The blue-haired boy shivers as he treks through the snow, snowflakes decorating his clothing and hair. His ears are bright red and his lips are likely turning blue, but Shuichi pushes through the harsh winter. “It shouldn't be too far from the house…”

They are lucky enough to find a run-down house in the middle of nowhere with walls intact and doors with locks. It also had a key detail: windows. From the inside, they could not only feel but look out to see piles of snow.

There was no concept of time so they could only assume it was December. However, the snow was already making its way inside their shelter and they had no choice but to dig in for the winter. The two covered the windows and any opening with anything they could find, but it did little to keep the warmth they both needed desperately.

Kokichi was huddled up to him, taking in the body heat of his boyfriend when he revealed something. “Every December, I would hang out with members of DICE… we would play games, watch cheesy Christmas movies like a family…” He weakly smiles at Shuichi. “B-but that was just a lie! D-did I get you?”

He didn’t answer him, wheels turning in his brain, “he misses them…”

Shuichi doesn’t know much about DICE but from the fragments of information Kokichi occasionally dropped, he knows they’re important to him. Practically family. “December or not, I’ll give him a gift…”

“H-hey, Shumai, you’ve been really quiet…”

His boyfriend’s fragile voice shakes him out of his thoughts, “sorry, Kichi, I was thinking about how I used to celebrate.”

“You never fail to bore me!” Kokichi seemingly springs back to his cheerful self. “Do say more to your powerful supreme leader!”

Through describing the various traditions he would do over the holidays, an idea forms in Shuichi’s mind. A gift.

So after leaving a note behind to a sleeping Kokichi, Shuichi set off at sunrise, determined to find a junkyard in a sea of snow. “Come on, come on!” He sees an unusually shaped pile of snow in the distance and his pace quickened (as much as he could when wading through snow up to his knees).

He wishes that time flew by fast, but it dragged on, tormenting the boy as much as it could. Shuichi refuses to give in to his rattling bones or aching headache so he continues to wade through the snow. His eyes focus on the snow pile, fearing that if he looks away it’ll disappear. “This is for Kokichi… for him… for him…” Those were the only thoughts keeping him moving forward.

After a treacherous amount of time, Shuichi reaches the junkyard. He was too late as snowflakes already made their home there. He didn’t care. He would find something to make his boyfriend happy this ‘December’.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Shuichi’s legs could hardly move another step and motivation was the only thing that kept him going even as the dim sun was beginning to set. The darkness is everyone’s worst enemy in an abyss full of snow, especially as he brought no lantern or flashlight.

He throws down a tire, frustrated tears threatening to fall. “I-I have to go… I can’t keep him w-waiting.”

He turns around, cringing at the sight of his footprints no longer being visible. As Shuichi tries to take another step back, his feet get caught in something. He stumbles over it and face-plants into the snow, the cold sinking into his bones.

After picking himself up, he yanks out whatever was slithered around his ankles. A ripped black cloth… long enough to reach the floor. Shuichi’s eyes widened. “This is it!”

Refueled with energy, Shuichi races back to the house, armed with nothing but black cloth.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Kokichi paces back and forth, his fingers digging into his skin. “Where is he?” That was the only question going through his head. “He wouldn’t have… no, Shuichi wouldn’t leave me here. But…”

His breathing becomes more and more rampant and his throat feels like it has been clogged. The purple-haired boy's hands started to shake as Kokichi’s legs failed him. He sits down on the floor, trembling out of control.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Kichi. Can I hug you?”

“Shumai?�� His voice was meek, but a huge sigh of relief left his lips.

Shuichi cupped his boyfriend’s cheeks, wiping his tears with his thumbs. “Shhh… please don’t cry, Kichi. I’m here now. I’m here.”

“Please… don’t scare me like that ever again…” Kokichi’s heart calms down as he wraps his arms around Shuichi’s neck, leaning his forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry… I wanted to get something for you,” Shuichi pulls out the black cloth from his jacket’s pocket, wrapping it around Kokichi delicately. “It’s nothing t-too extravagant. I j-just thought when… that story you told me about DICE, I wanted to give you something. Happy holidays, Kichi.”

If Kokichi knew he would cry so much, he would have prepared beforehand. Memories fill his mind of times when he and DICE would run throughout a non-despair filled city, joyful smiles exchanging between all of them. He would flock around a black cape, proclaiming to be the leader of the entire world.

“Thank you, Shumai…” Kokichi grins, “I have something too! And this is no lie! Let me go get it!”

He doesn’t go far, only to the other side of the bare (living?) room, behind their stack of canned food. He hides it behind his back, “hope you like it…” His hands crinkle over a newspaper hat. The kind that children make besides paper airplanes and daisy chains. Shuichi gently takes it from the other’s hands, “h-how did you—?”

“This house is made of trash, nishishi~!”

The blue-haired boy places it on his head, “I love it,” he goes up to Kokichi and twirls him around, the black cape engulfing him like a wave. “How about we rest now, Kichi?”

They lie down on the freezing wooden floor, their arms around each other to share their warmth. Shuichi combs through Kokichi’s hair while the other nuzzles up in his chest, exhaustion dripping into their bones at last.

“Merry Christmas, Shumai…” Kokichi murmurs before dozing off.

“You too, Kichi…” Shuichi succumbs to his drooping eyes, “sweet dreams…”

Snowflakes continued to drizzle outside, but at least, they were safe.

Kokcihi and Shuichi may have never communicated before, but now, they become each other’s safe haven.

[panda-noosh]

Hello! I saw that you might be taking requests, and I really hope that’s true because I don’t want to seem annoying or as a pest. You’re writing for ATLA is my favorite, so I was wondering if you could do a zuko x reader where he joins the gaang, but the reader still really hates him for what he’s done. Something happens, and unknowingly the two start falling for each other. Hope I’m not being annoying, and I hope you and your family are doing well!

  It’s quite difficult being forced to work with someone you can’t stand.

   It’s for the good of the world. You know this. You’re reminded of it constantly, Katara in one ear, Aang in the other. They try convincing you that Zuko isn’t that bad, that he’s changed and he’s a new man, and all of that might be true - you know it to be true, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s the most annoying person on the planet.

   You don’t hate him because he’s a bad person. You hate him because he’s him.

   He teases you to no ends, jabbing you in the side, taking your seat around the campfire just because he knows it’s yours. He makes noises outside your tent just so he can later laugh when you spring into the night wielding a weapon, only to find him kneeling nearby, bent double.

    He makes your blood boil.

   He’s also really attractive.

   Katara’s told you on multiple occasions that the only reason you feel such distaste for the prince is because you have feelings for him. She says the signs are there. You’ve never really humoured her, considering it’s the truth, and it’s messed up that it’s the truth. It was his nation that ruined your own, his people that ripped the world to shreds, and the entire time he was in support of it all. He stood behind his monster of a father and he nodded along, pretending everything was going to be alright as long as the Fire Nation reigned supreme.

   Just because he’s turned a new leaf doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t erase the damage that’s already been done. 

    You watch him now, because that’s all you can do when the others are out scavenging. You swear they do it on purpose, leave all together just so you and Zuko will be alone, forced to acknowledge each other’s presence. He’s stood in the river, trousers rolled up, hands submerged in the water as he tries his hardest to catch a fish. Steam rises off the surface, Zuko cursing when he pulls his hands out and cools them down.

    You lean back on your elbows. “Struggling?”

   “Yes.”

    “That sucks. I thought princes were meant to be good at everything.”

   Zuko scowls at you before dunking his hands back in the water. “You know, you could help me out here a little bit; you need to eat, too.”

    “I’ve already got my dinner sorted,” you reply, gesturing to the deer you and Sokka were able to hunt down a few hours prior, agreeing to split the meat for dinner tonight. 

    Zuko stares at the lump of meat for a second, and you can nearly see his mouth watering. He bites his lip, ducks his eyes back down to the water and continues his search for a meal of his own.

    “Can you not control your powers?” you ask, ripping grass from the floor, sprinkling it over your shoe.

    Zuko shrugs. “I can’t really feel my hands too well when they’re in the water.”

   “Why not?”

   “It’s too cold, makes my fingers numb so I can’t even tell when they’re coming to the surface.”

   You frown, clambering to your feet. Honestly, you should just let him suffer. He’s just going to tease you, and you can’t be bothered with that right now, but you also can’t just let him starve to death. And so, you clamber down the hill, roll the hem of your trousers up past your ankles before wading into the water.

    “What are you doing?” he asks. “The water’s too warm-”

   “Do you want to eat tonight or not?” You nudge his shoulder, very nearly toppling him over. He manages to catch himself only seconds before falling. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

    Zuko growls low under his breath, but you ignore him as you dunk your hands beneath the steady flowing waves and feel around. Zuko stands beside you, arms folded over his chest, eyes heavily lidded, because he’s doubting you. Of course he is. For his entire time with the group, he’s done nothing but doubt you. 

    But now he’s going to see just how wrong he was to do that. You know what you’re doing, have been doing it for much longer than him. You never had servants running to fulfil your every wish and desire. Not like he did.

    It takes only a few minutes for you to make a catch. The scales are rough against your fingers, but you recognise the feeling immediately. You curl your fingers around it, pulling with all your might-

    And that’s when you slip.

    It happens so fast. One minute you are breathing like a normal person, and the next you’re submerged, water filling your open mouth, stinging your eyes, and you try to scream because that’s all you can think to do when you’re in danger-

    Hands wrap around your waist and pull you back to the surface

    You gasp, flailing hair out of your face, swiping it back with trembling hands. Zuko stands over you, his own eyes wide, his mouth dropped open as he struggles to find anything to say that can comfort you as you wriggle in his arms, panic coursing through you.

    “I’ve got you,” he finally manages, pulling you closer. “What the hell happened there?”

    “I slipped. I just slipped.” You try pulling away from him, but he keeps a tight hold on your body, and suddenly the fact that you nearly just drowned doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. His arms are around you, fingers burning into your waist, and it’s all you can focus on, and you hate it. You hate that he can have such power over you, that he can conjure such feelings from you when all you’ve ever done is give off the illusion that you will and can never forgive him.

    But this is what Katara meant all along. There’s something there, something that’s been there from the day Zuko broke through that tree line and apologised for his wrongs. It scared the shit out of you, but now it’s rising again, and you’re too shocked to push it away.

    His thumbs come up, gently brushing the water droplets from your cheeks. You close your eyes, swallowing deeply.

   “I lost your fish,” you mumble. 

   Zuko shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

   “You - You can have a bit of the deer if you want.”

��  “Are you being nice to me, Y/N?”

   You groan. “You just saved my life. I have to do something.”

   Zuko tilts his head to the side, a tiny smile playing on his face. That breaks you. You’re going to kiss him if you don’t get away now.

   You finally push away from him, for real this time, and start wading for the shore again. Zuko calls your name, almost a desperate plea, but you don’t turn back. Yes, he’s just saved your life, but how embarrassing will it be for you to run into his arms after spending months pretending you hate him?

    “Y/N! For gods sake, wait!”

    He grabs your wrist, whirling you around to face him.

   “What? Let go!”

   “Why are you storming off?” he demands, sounding almost angry. His brows are furrowed, lips pulled into a thin line. His grip is slack on your wrist, but it’s there nonetheless, fingers once again burning into your flesh.

    “Because I have - I have things to do,” you reply, refusing to meet his eyes. “The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Zuko. Not any more.”

    “Why do you always have to give me some snarky response?” he asks. “What did I do to piss you off so much?”

    You scoff. “What did you do? Zuko, it was only a few months ago you were in full support of your father ripping the world to pieces!”

   “I didn’t support him! I explained everything to you! I apologised-”

   “Oh, an apology! Aren’t you a little Angel?”

   He scowls, dropping your hand. “What more do you want?”

   So much more. So much more. So much more.

    “I want you to leave me alone.”

    And then suddenly it’s silent, and neither of you are moving, which reveals the lie almost immediately. He’s no longer holding you. He’s no longer talking. The conversation is over. You have every opportunity to just. . . leave, to run in the opposite direction and do exactly as you always said you craved - to never see Prince Zuko again.

    But you don’t budge.

   “So go,” he says, voice soft. “I’m not stopping you any more. If you really want to leave, then leave.”

    You take a step back. Just one, testing the waters. It feels weird. He’s still standing there, and how can you possibly leave without kissing him first?

    He steps forward, gently grabbing your wrist, drawing your hand to his chest where you let it linger beneath his collarbone. 

    “Leave, Y/N. Nobody’s stopping you.”

   You kiss him.

    You kiss him because you need to. You kiss him because he’s him, because he’s Prince Zuko, the tainted little prince who was once locked under the spell of his father, just like every other little boy in the world. He’s Prince Zuko, the one who was able to break free, the one who suddenly grew a mind of his own and saw the light in the end of it all.

    He pulls you closer. Your hips crash against his, your hands trailing through his dark locks, pulling him closer, closer, closer until you just seem desperate, and he’s laughing against your mouth because he knows. 

    “How long have you been holding back on me?” he asks against your lips.

   You roll your eyes and jump. He grunts, catching you just as you wind your legs around his waist and the two of you stumble back into the water, Zuko hissing when the cold water laps at his ankles. 

    You pull away shortly after, dropping your forehead to his. You can’t even open your eyes, trembling in your excitement, your confusion, your nervousness all rolled into one.

    “I knew it!”

    Aang’s voice comes out of nowhere. Your head whips round just in time to see him leap in the air, throwing his fist up in victory.

    “Our plan worked guys! They kissed!” 

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (6/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

a/n: I’m sorry for the delay. I’d hoped to have finished writing this story and then post pretty quickly, but personal life things have kept my mind other places. But hopefully you guys keep enjoying this story 💙

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

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Sand shifts beneath Killian’s feet as he runs along the shoreline. The tide hasn’t quite come in yet, the water just missing him as it wades onto the shore, but Skipper is getting soaked with salt water as he runs on his leash in front of Killian. He used to not have to put Skipper on a leash for their morning runs since no one else is on the beach at this time of the morning, but then the damn dog went and swam in the ocean only to get caught up in a rip tide.

So, leash it is even if it makes Killian run faster and harder than he ever intends to.

Bloody hell, his calves are absolutely on fire. He should have run along the boardwalk to save himself from this kind of pain.

“Skip,” Killian whistles. “Slow down, mate.”

The dog obviously doesn’t listen and keeps running, but Killian tugs on his leash until he pulls back, stopping and sitting down in the sand. He’s definitely going to have to be shaved later.

“Good boy,” Killian sighs as he finally catches up to him. “You want to head back home? Are you tired yet? I’m exhausted.”

Skipper barks and sticks out his tongue. Killian takes it as sign enough that it’s time to go home.

The sun begins to rise over the horizon on Killian’s walk home, and he slows his pace to watch the world be coated in shades of orange and pink that are like nothing he’s ever seen replicated. Milah used to try with her paintings. She was always so obsessed with the sun and the way it shaded things differently, and he’d catch her painting the same building over and over again with only the most minute differences. She was a bloody brilliant painter, too, and the more time that goes by, the more he wishes he’d been able to keep just one of her paintings.

He’d given them to her son.

Her son who deserved them much more that Killian ever did. His only hope is that they’re displayed instead of shoved in a supply closet or decaying in a landfill somewhere. Her family had been furious when they found out about him, and he doesn’t blame them.

He felt the same way.

Except Killian was the hidden boyfriend who was driving the car that killed Milah, and he wasn’t exactly welcomed by her family at the funeral. He’d always thought that she didn’t have family, that she had few people just like him, but she apparently had hordes of people in her life.

How can he still harbor love for her when she betrayed him?

When she’s the reason he hasn’t been able to commit himself to anyone since.

Well, there was Tink, but she was exactly the same as Milah in so many ways.

At least she didn’t help in giving him the scars that run up and down his arm and wrap around his hand so that there was a permanent physical reminder of her. She simply, well, sunrises don’t remind him of her in the way they remind him of Milah.

Skipper barks again, and Killian shakes himself out of it before continuing to walk up to the beach. Some of the cabana boys are already dragging out the lounge chair cushions to the beach, and Killian nods at them before turning at the boardwalk and making his way to the shop. He goes through the back door so that obnoxious bell won’t go off, and as soon as they get inside, Killian slips out of his shoes and takes Skipper’s leash off before quietly walking up the stairs.

The lights in the apartment are all still turned off, and Killian uses the dim light of the rising sun to find his way back to his bedroom. The only light in there is the brightness of Emma’s phone shining on her face.

“Why did you get up so early to run this morning?”

He pulls off his sweaty shirt and tosses it in his laundry bin. “I’ve got a full day. I’m down at the marina all day. Why? Did you want to come with?”

“I’m doing a spin class with Ruby tonight, but I do need to start running on the beach again. That is a hell of a workout.”

“You’re telling me. My calves are still on fire.”

Emma hums and keeps typing on her phone. What the hell is she writing this early in the morning? He didn’t even think she’d be awake, but he probably woke her up when he left. Damn. He thought he was being quiet.

“I’m going to take a shower. Do you need to take one?”

“I’m not showering with you, Jones.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

She drops her phone and raises her brow. “I’m sorry. You’re a man who doesn’t want to have shower sex? I think you may actually be a unicorn.”

“It’s a very small shower, love, and I don’t think my knees can take being on the tile. My legs are definitely too tired to have to hold you up.”

“I’m not complaining,” she laughs. “I’ve just never had this happen before. I feel like I need to document it. You can leave the shower on for me. I’ll hop in after.”

Killian raises his hand and salutes at Emma before stripping out of the rest of his clothes and walking into his bathroom. He closes the door behind him and turns on the shower, allowing it to heat up for a minute or two before stepping inside and letting the water pound against his back. It feels better than he imagined it could, and even with this, he knows he’s going to be beyond sore by this evening.

He easily could have stayed in bed with Emma this morning. He could have slept in, had some kind of drowsy, lazy morning sex, and then been on with his day without being sore.

Now that he thinks about it, that would have been the better option.

Then again, the two of them aren’t really wake up in the morning and have sex kind of people. It’s happened, but it almost feels outside of their deal. He’d like to stay inside the deal and within the guidelines of their rules as much as he possibly can.

It’s funny how easy it’s been to fall into this thing with her. It’s usually not like this when he starts sleeping with someone new. There’s a game to be played, no matter how much he’d sometimes rather not play it, but with Emma, it’s not like that. There’s no tip-toeing around each other or questioning motives, not anymore. It is what it is, and they’re both okay with that.

No games may be the most refreshing thing in the world.

Killian quickly scrubs himself down with soap and washes some shampoo in his hair before rinsing it all off. His bathroom door opens, and Emma walks through without a stitch of clothing on.

Bloody hell.

“You almost finished?” she asks, apparently without a care in the world that she’s nearly rendered him speechless.

And possibly changed his thoughts on shower sex, even if that would absolutely be the most uncomfortable thing in the world right now.

“It’s all yours, milady.” He slides open the glass door and grabs a towel while Emma slides by him and steps into the shower. “It may be a little hot.”

“It’s scorching. What is wrong with you?”

“Trying to relieve my sore muscles, love.”

“By burning your skin off?”

“It is not that hot.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs his shampoo bottle. He’s got to stop looking at her if he wants any hope of being able to get dressed comfortably.

“Do you have conditioner?”

Killian bends down and pulls out an old bottle that was left here. “This work?”

She reaches out and grabs it. “Do you have more of this?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because whichever girl left this is my new favorite. This stuff is expensive, and I think I’ll be able to actually brush through my hair now.”

Killian scoffs and adjusts the towel around his waist. “What’s wrong with the stuff in the shower?”

“It’s awful. The fact that you have such good hair is amazing.”

Oh, well, if she’s going to compliment him, he can’t pass that opportunity up. He twists his head and gets in her eyeline, ignoring the way water is dripping off her breasts, and moves his brows up and down.

“Why, darling, who knew you had such a thing for my hair?”

Emma’s nose scrunches up. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I can’t let this go. Tell me, what else do you find attractive about me? I know there must be quite a list since you’ve decided to sleep with me on a regular basis.”

“Again, shut up.”

“Nope. I’m not letting this go now. You find me attractive, Swan, and believe it or not, I actually quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me.”

“Don’t you have something to be doing?”

“I have nothing to do but stare at you.”

Emma’s laugh is louder than the spray of water, and he sees her shake her head before she goes back to washing her hair. Killian should shave this morning, but he can put that off until tomorrow when he’s not incredibly distracted by the naked woman showering next to him.

Killian brushes his teeth and dries his hair before walking out of the bathroom, leaving the door open for the steam to waft out, and he gets dressed for work. He’s still got hours until then, but if he puts joggers back on, he’ll not want to go. He knows the families who are coming in today for sailing lessons, and as much as he loves that part of the job, he does not want to deal with a group of twelve-year-old kids today.

The shower water keeps running, and Killian sees Emma out of the corner of his eyes before he opens his bedroom door and softly closes it behind him. The lights in the kitchen are on, and when he gets close enough, he sees Elsa standing over the stove with eggs in the pan. He didn’t even know she’d stayed over last night. He should be paying more attention to that. Then again, he doesn’t want Liam to know who he has staying over, so maybe it’s a good thing that they can quietly go about their business.

When Liam and Elsa get married, though, Killian hopes they either kick him out of here or move into Elsa’s place. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take living with Liam because of situations like this morning, but that’s not exactly an easy conversation to have.

“You making enough for everyone?” Killian asks.

Elsa twists around and smiles. “I’m making enough for me, but if you want some, that’s not a problem. Did you go running this morning?”

“Aye, and yes to the eggs, too.”

“That’s really early for you to go running. I didn’t even know you got up at that time.”

“Love, I almost never sleep in. The Navy will kill that habit before they do anything else.”

“Liam has managed to curb that, I think. That or he fakes sleeping in so I don’t feel lazy when I wake up later than him.”

“I think you may be onto his evil plans.”

She laughs again before plating the eggs in the pan and opening the carton next to her to crack open two more. “Oh, by the way, Emma is coming over this morning to help me with some wedding stuff. Anna is going to call in since that’s all really her cup of tea, but Emma is going to help get me a lower rate on one of the club venues. So, if you could go downstairs and unlock the door for her, that would be great.”

Killian swallows and grabs the plate of eggs from Elsa’s side, seasoning them and adding some cheese. “Isn’t that really more Mary Margaret’s department? The weddings, I mean.”

“Mary Margaret is more passionate about it, but they technically have the same job. Plus, Emma was free to meet me this early so we could talk to Anna at the same time.”

Killian accidentally shakes a little too much salt into his eggs. “When is Emma supposed to be here?”

“In about thirty minutes. Did I say you could have those eggs?”

Killian stuffs some overly salted eggs in his mouth. “I figured you’d want them while they were still hot, so I’d take the old ones.”

Elsa hums and nods. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Don’t I know it?”

Killian stuffs the eggs into his mouth, eating far more quickly than any normal human should, and he’s going to regret it later. But he needs to finish and run back into his room because Emma cannot come out this way if Elsa is in the kitchen.

“Did the water just turn off?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought I heard the water turning off, but I must be hearing things.”

Shit.

“I didn’t hear anything.” Killian puts his half-empty plate down. “These are really good, Els. I’ll be right back, yeah? I need to check my phone.”

She doesn’t say anything, and Killian quickly leaves before she can. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do. Elsa is in the kitchen cooking, and she always likes to eat on the sofa. He can’t exactly tell Elsa to go back to Liam’s bedroom so he can sneak Emma out of the house only to sneak her back in.

What the hell, Emma? Why did she even come over last night? Did she not think this through? They’re going to have to start thinking things through if they don’t want to get everyone else involved. That would be a disaster that neither of them know how to get out of with how nosy their friends are.

When he gets back to his room, Emma is still in the bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel as she brushes her teeth. At least he thought to buy her a toothbrush to keep here after last week when she tried to use his.

“Do you want to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to meet Elsa here this early in the morning?”

“Huh?” Emma spits into the sink. “What? Why do you – oh you have egg on your shirt, KJ.”

He looks down and flicks it off. How did that happen? “Swan, why did you stay here last night if you knew you were meeting Elsa this morning?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have to drive from my place?”

“What was your plan? Get up and leave only to come back in two seconds later?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And what do you plan on doing now since Elsa is awake and sitting in the living room eating her breakfast? She’s not going to leave, and I don’t really see how you plan on getting out.”

Emma’s toothbrush drops to the sink. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You have to get her out of there. Get her to take Skipper on a walk or something.”

“She has plans to meet you. she won’t have time. Plus, she knows I already went on a run with him.”

“Shit. What am I supposed to do climb out your window?” Killian’s brow arches. Now that’s an idea. “No,” Emma starts, “no, no, no. This is the second floor. I’m not jumping down. What if I break something?”

“You’ll land on the sand, and you only have to drop about ten feet.”

It’s ridiculous, this idea, but he’s starting to think it might be the best one. Killian walks over to the set of windows in his room, opens one up, and looks down at the small ledge. His room drops directly down onto some sand with Liam’s bedroom and the living area completely out of sight, and as long as she doesn’t land terribly, she should be fine.

Yeah, just fine.

Emma’s stare switches between him and the window, but eventually she goes to grab all of her things, either putting them on or holding them in her hands, and makes her way toward the window. She tosses her shoes down first and then her purse. Finally, she climbs over the ledge of the window and looks back at him.

“Next time, we’re staying at my place or we don’t spend the night or something. I am not climbing out of a window for you again.”

“If I stay at your place, what am I going to do about Skipper?”

“Have Liam take care of him.”

“I can’t very well tell Liam I’m spending the night at your place because I’m shagging you, now can I?”

Emma’s eyes roll. “Your British is coming out. And, literally, Jones, just tell him you went home with a woman. It’s not a lie. It’s not the full truth, but it’s not a lie. Most importantly, it means I don’t have to jump from a window so I can talk to Elsa about price packages for her wedding.”

He hates to admit it, but she makes a good point.

They obviously are still working out all of the kinks in this arrangement since neither of them thought them through.

Idiots. The both of them.

“If I break something, you have to clean my apartment for me.”

“I will be happy to, love.”

“And you owe me lunch this week.”

“You can eat all of my extra crisps for the foreseeable future.”

Emma nods and hooks her leg over the window ledge. He hears her swallow, and then she’s climbing down and holding on to the window as she dangles from side of the building.

“You’re lucky that the sex is good, Jones. And that you do manage to entertain me with more than mediocre conversation.”

“There you go complimenting me again.” Killian flashes her a smile and winks. She is definitely going to try to murder him when she gets back up to this apartment. “I’m not the one who scheduled a meeting. This is technically all your fault.”

Emma doesn’t respond. Instead she looks down at the ground and then drops with a subtle thud. When Killian looks down, he sees her standing on her feet brushing the sand off her ass. That’s definitely going to be a devil tomorrow.

Killian chuckles to himself and then closes his window before heading back out of his room. He’s still got to unlock the shop for Emma. Maybe he should get her a key.

Wait, no. That would definitely be taking it too far.

“Your eggs are definitely cold now,” Elsa says as he walks through the living room where she’s now sitting with her food in front of her. His remaining eggs remain untouched next to hers. “I thought you were avoiding that.”

“No, I was avoiding that for you. I don’t actually mind because Skipper will eat leftovers anyway.”

“Where is Skipper?”

“He’s probably still wandering around downstairs. I’ll send him up when I unlock everything.”

When Killian finally gets to the front door, Emma is standing outside with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a firm line. God, all he wants to do is laugh, but he does still want to live to see tomorrow.

“Good morning, milady,” Killian sighs. “I’m loving the look. Very natural. The use of sand is just…stunning.”

Okay, maybe he doesn’t want to live to see tomorrow.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I am not doing that again.” “As long as you plan things a little better, you won’t have to.”

Emma huffs and brushes past him, but he reaches out and tugs on her wrist until she’s pulling back to him and standing with her hands pressed against his chest. He can see her freckles and the blonde of her eyelashes when she looks like this, and it reminds him of all the times they’ve gone out on the ocean or spent the day at the beach.

It reminds him of how close her lips are to his.

“You have sand in your hair, love.” He reaches up and picks a few pieces out, letting them fall to the ground before he tucks her hair back into place. “How did that happen?”

Emma’s lips part. “I don’t – I – ”

There’s a bark behind the two of them, and they quickly part as Skipper sticks his nose between the two of them.

“I need to go meet Elsa,” Emma finally says as she scratches behind Skip’s ears. “You want to come and talk weddings with us?”

“You know, love, I think I just might.”

“You sure? Anna is very into it, I’ve heard.” “Anna is very into everything. It’s part of her charm. This is also her actual job.”

“True. I’m just kind of here to help with finding them a date. They want it to be this summer.”

Killian mock gasps and walks with Emma. “So soon? Do you think my brother has been improper and gotten that nice girl pregnant?”

“I don’t know, but that’s the gossip around these parts.”

“However will they regain a good reputation? Do you think it will affect the business?”

“It might. You best prepare to be making less money.” “What the hell are the two of you talking about?” Elsa laughs as they walk into the apartment.

“Oh, just how Liam knocked you up and ruined your reputation.”

Elsa’s eyes roll. “I’m not pregnant, and we don’t live in the 1800s.”

“Still. Such a short engagement. People might get ideas.”

“You’re far too cheeky for it to be this early in the morning,” Elsa sighs. “Do you have sand on your jeans, Emma?”

Killian bites his tongue, but he still can’t hold in his chuckle. Emma reaches over to slap him, but she stops herself right before and places her hand on his shoulder before looking down at her jeans.

They are not smooth.

“Huh,” Emma sighs, “I guess that I do. It was windy this morning. It must have blown over on me. Is Liam joining us?”

“Yeah, he’s getting dressed. I honestly think he might be trying to avoid Anna.”

“Or me,” Emma mumbles so quietly Killian thinks only he hears it.

“What?” Elsa asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Emma quickly corrects. “I’m going to fix myself some coffee and then we’ll get started. Do you have all your numbers?”

“On my phone, yeah.”

Skipper comes walking up the stairs and sniffs along Killian’s shoes before moving over to Elsa and settling down at her feet. The back bedroom door opens, and Liam walks out. Part of Killian wants to stay for this meeting, to get to know what exactly his brother and Elsa are going to plan for their wedding, but he also doesn’t want to be a witness for the cold shoulder Liam will inevitably give Emma. Killian’s never understood Liam’s problem with Emma, but hopefully the man can keep it together enough to not make some asinine remark when Emma is doing him a favor.

“Well,” Liam smiles, “are we all ready to plan a wedding?”

-/-

-/-

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[jacquiesims]

Viper Canyon - Chapter Four

“...Try not to think about the future. It is much too uncertain here. Think only of living in the moment, when you are young and Viper Canyon holds so much promise for you. Swear to me you’ll do just that, all right?”

January, 1852

The New Year had come to pass in Viper Canyon. Families privately enjoyed quiet celebrations from within their humble homesteads, warmly welcoming twelve more months of excitement and uncertainty. Each was sure to pray that The Watcher had good things in store for their simple little frontier town. 

The Hawkins clan prayed a bit harder than most. 

Papa had yet to find a vein of gold in the mines. The family had come with plenty of savings, but with the construction of a much-needed barn on their property on top of their costs of living over the past months, their safe was teetering toward the dangerous brink of being completely devoid of Simoleons. 

They were surviving on next to nothing a day. The girls worked hard at home to tend to their meager garden and the animals they’d brought with them all the way from the east coast. What little they were able to harvest and collect was enough to survive on, but there was an uneasiness that pervaded the air around the house as each member of the Hawkins family worried about the indefinite future.

Mamma and Winnie were sipping on evening cups of coffee at the end of a long day, both waiting patiently for Beatrice to finish her chores while making sure to mind the stove that held Papa’s dinner warm inside. 

“When I was in town today I spoke with Mr. Monroe. He was kind enough to let me know that he’s been needing someone to work the till at his store, what with this influx of miners that are staying nearby. Apparently the store is much too busy during the week for the two of them to handle, and he figured he would save the cost of posting an ad in the city paper by asking me if you would like to work there.” 

“Me?” Winnie asked, quite surprised. “Why, I’ve never worked a till before. And surely I’m needed much more badly here than at the general store.”

“I should think not. The money would certainly help a great deal. You did so well at arithmetic in your schooling, I figured counting money and keeping track of inventory would be no problem for you. But I did let Mr. Monroe know I would have to speak with you about it first, to make sure you were up for it.” 

Winnie smiled, trying to imagine life as a salesgirl. “Well…perhaps it would be nice, to have a job of my own. A bit exciting, even, getting to know all of the faces that come in and out of the store. But Papa wouldn’t be upset? I’m not sure if he’d be fond of the idea of me working a counter where miners were coming in and out all day.”

“I’ll have a talk with Papa when he gets home tonight. I’m sure he won’t have an issue with it, especially if you’re keen on the idea. I figured if you worked at the store and did well enough, Mr. Monroe would be happy to let your position pass to Bea once we get closer to your wedding.” 

Hearing Mamma speak so casually about Winnie’s betrothal to Peter sent an electric shock through her chest. 

It was easy to forget during her day to day life that she was in fact someone’s fiancée – she was so busy that when she found a spare minute in the day to rest she more often than not spent that time devouring one of her books she’d received for Winterfest. That way, the only time she had for her thoughts to wander was at night, and she was usually too tired to drift off on her familiar clouds of daydreams. 

She found this was the best formula to avoid confronting the harsh truth that she was, in the coming year, to marry a man she harbored no sweet feelings toward. She swallowed the knot in her throat and faced her mother with an intense look in her eyes.

Mamma was taken aback. “What’s wrong? You’ve changed moods so suddenly.” 

“How can I marry a man I don’t love, Mamma?” Speaking on the private doubts and fears that she had kept to herself for the past month made Winnie feel like she was on the verge of throwing up. “You told me to give it time, and I’ve been patient. But we have about as much in common as this desert and the green valleys back home! I…I wonder if I’ll be able to find happiness in our marriage. Mamma, it’s just eating me up inside, it truly is.” 

A strange expression crossed Mamma’s face that Winnie had never seen before. Her entire body was burning with anxiety and worry that she’d said the wrong thing. Winnie had never once in her life been in her mother’s bad graces – Mamma herself even said that her eldest child came out smiling like a cherub – but now she thought she had finally managed to strike a sour chord.

“I suppose it’s only natural you feel that way,” Mamma sighed, after a great pause. “You have been pushed into the match a bit forcefully, after all.” 

Winnie was afraid to speak. Her mouth felt strange and fuzzy from confessing her fears, but what Mamma told her was assuring nonetheless. It made Winnie feel as though maybe she wasn’t being so irrational after all. 

“Why don’t I tell you a story? Come sit down with me and I’ll tell you about when I was just a little older than you are now.”

Winnie and Mamma made their way to the sofa and sat down together. 

Mamma took a deep breath, watching as Winnie bunched up the skirt of her dress in her fists. She gently rested her hand atop her daughter’s with a tender look. 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever told you this before, but I suppose now is the perfect opportunity. Back when I was a girl growing up, I lived with my father – your grandfather – on our farm. We lived in a beautiful little village surrounded by trees and green and life all around. I had a very charmed life, and I was very privileged. I was much like you and your sister were back when we lived back in the city.”

“My mother had passed away when I was young enough to have no memories of her. My father and I lived in our cottage on the outskirts of the village with nary a care in the world. I was endlessly spoiled and wanted for nothing. We were lucky enough to employ a woman who would cook and clean for us during the day so I was free to explore the forests and wade in the creeks and do as I pleased.

“At that age, our neighbors and friends considered me to be quite beautiful. I caught the eye of many young men and even maintained a beau or two merely because I could. My father was in no rush to marry me off and I entertained the idea that I would one day become an eccentric old spinster, living in our cottage for the rest of my days…I was quite naïve back then. In fact, I see a lot of my younger self in you, Winnie.”

“My father had always been strong and robust in my eyes, but losing my mother had taken its toll on him. Day by day, he grew a bit weaker, until he eventually fell ill just after my twentieth birthday. It was then my father informed me that when he passed away, the farm would go to his cousin, but through some circumstance when they were boys, their relationship had deteriorated. My father let me know that when my cousin inherited our farm he would, without a doubt, force me out of the place out of spite. I was heartbroken, but I hardly had time to think about the future because I was so busy helping with things around the farm and making sure my father had what he needed as his health crumbled more and more every day.”

“I began to realize that I had taken advantage of all of that time I so blindly wasted as a girl. I had spent all of my days frolicking out of doors when I should have been cherishing each moment I had left with my father. 

“What I didn’t know, however, was that my father had only my future in mind. Without my knowing, he reached out to one of his old friends with whom he had kept a close correspondence with ever since their youth. This friend had seen all of his four sons married except the last, who had recently gone to Simdon in search of his fortune only to come back empty-handed.”

“I knew nothing of this until one day I came downstairs to find a stranger in the parlor. My father introduced me to him and let us talk in the back garden unchaperoned. The man was honest with me that he was penniless and had nothing to offer me but a simple life as a carpenter’s wife. I realized then that my father planned to save me from a cruel fate by marrying me off to a stranger – but how could I defy him and turn down this man I had never met when all my father wanted for me was a secure future? 

“I decided to marry him, if only to please my father and ease some of his worries as he slowly grew worse and worse each day. After the banns had been posted we were married in the village church. My father used the last of his strength to walk me down the aisle and give me away to the son of his best friend.”

“Within the next few weeks, my father eventually succumbed to his illness and passed away. It…was the deepest sorrow I’d ever known. My father was all I had in the world and I was lost without him. I was certain then, in my grief, that I would never know happiness again. It is true that time can heal all wounds…but when it comes to losing a loved one, all time can do is make the grief a little less each day – but it will never truly make it go away completely. And why should it? Grief is only a reminder that you love someone deeply, despite them being gone. 

“Fortunately, my new husband was respectful and kept his distance. He even packed away my things for me and arranged for us to move to Richmond, where he used the money my father had left us to open a shop where he sold his woodworking.”

“We made a good living, once I was out of mourning and able to gather the strength to carry out my duties as a wife. The business eventually did so well that we were able to sell it. There was never a dull moment with him - he was always going back and forth between new jobs, trying to grasp the smallest foothold with his fingertips to advance our place in society, no matter how slim the chances. We got to know each other through that hectic life, despite it all becoming the respected family we were in town. He admitted to me that he felt as though he’d been struck by Cupid’s arrow when I came down the stairs and into the parlor on the day we met…. Eventually, feelings of love began to form between us. And then, after a few years, The Watcher blessed us with you.”

“I found happiness with your father, despite the tragic means through which we came to know each other. I love your father deeply. He was by my side through a time in my life in which all I saw behind and ahead of me was a pitch black darkness. He waited until I was ready for us to truly become man and wife…and for that I will always cherish him and be faithful to him.” 

Winnie watched her mother carefully with tears in her eyes. Hearing the tragic story of her mother’s youth had stirred the deepest parts of her soul. 

“It is my most ardent hope that you will find that same true love and happiness with Peter. You say you have nothing in common, and I ask you to look at your own parents. We aren’t similar by any means, but I’ve come to see us as two sides of the same coin. Perhaps we may be vastly different at face value, but we share a core – not only as husband and wife, and the love we have for each other, but as mother and father to Bea and yourself.”

“I would never, and I mean never, have let your engagement to Peter take place if I didn’t see a bright and wonderful future together between you two. He’s a lovely young man, full of life and hope and I know he would make an excellent husband for any woman.”

“I trust you, Mamma. And I believe you.” 

She finally smiled. It filled Winnie with a great sense of relief. “All I ask is that you get to know him with eyes unclouded. Try not to think about the future. It is much too uncertain here. Think only of living in the moment, when you are young and Viper Canyon holds so much promise for you. Swear to me you’ll do just that, all right?”

“I promise, Mamma.” 

For a moment, they only looked at each other. Winnie found that she now saw her mother differently. Where she had seen a withdrawn, passive, and submissive woman the day before, she now saw a quiet inner strength and steel resolve that were invisible to the naked eye. 

Mamma, however, felt as though she was looking through a mirror to the past. There was so much of herself in her daughter, but there was also something more faintly glimmering beneath the surface – a hint of the woman her daughter would one day grow to become.

“Now, that’s enough with all that. My mind’s on the wedding now and I’ve just realized I have yet to show you the linens I inherited from my own mother and grandmother as a girl. If you’re to have them when you marry Peter, it’s high time I took them out to show you. It took a great deal of convincing to get your father to sacrifice precious space in the wagon to bring them with us.” 

Winnie felt herself cheer up a little. “I’d like that very much.”

“WHAT?!”

Mamma and Winnie turned around to see a horrified Beatrice standing in the doorway. 

“Peter’s to marry Winnie?!”

“Oh – oh, Bea, I’m so sorry! We’ve been waiting to say anything – ” Winnie tried and failed to explain the situation to her sister before she began shrieking.

“Mamma! You simply cannot be serious! The only boy I’ve ever fancied and of course Winnie just has to come and snatch him away from me with her wicked claws!” Beatrice’s voice was shrill and climbed in octaves as she screamed, her eyes welling with tears. “I never get anything I want, ever! I’ll never be good enough for this family, will I? I’d be better off dead!” 

“Beatrice Elizabeth Hawkins! How dare you say something so horrible!”

Mamma didn’t have the chance to scold Beatrice before the girl turned on her heel and ran off into the cold desert night.

“What are we to do?” Winnie asked her mother desperately. “I never wanted her to find out like this. I just knew she would be beside herself.” 

She took a deep breath in and released it quickly. “If she wants to throw a tantrum and act like a child, then so be it. I doubt she’ll get very far on foot and with the way she’s acting I’d be hard pressed to want to follow her any time soon. If she hasn’t come back by the time Papa comes home we’ll head down the way to Elijah’s and round up the men to look for her.”

“Are you sure, Mamma? What if she gets lost? Or taken by the natives? I’ve heard terrible stories….” 

“It won’t do you or her any good to worry. And I’m certain the natives won’t be tempted to steal away someone who can scream and cause a fuss such as Bea can.” Mamma quickly finished her cup of coffee and began to put everything on the table away with short, choppy movements. “I’m sure she’s just going to have a good cry where we can’t hear her and she’ll be back to apologize soon if she knows what’s good for her.”

Less than an hour later, Papa finally arrived home, but Beatrice was still nowhere to be seen. 

Mamma and Winnie explained the situation to him – how they’d been discussing the wedding and Beatrice had overheard, causing her to run into the night – and he chewed his lip for a moment in thought. 

“Well, there’s nothing to be done, then. Let me go down to Elijah’s so we can get a search party together.”

Elijah seemed a little annoyed with the whole situation but was more than willing to help the Hawkins get a group together to comb the desert in search of Beatrice. 

Papa and Elijah rode back up the dirt road to the Hawkins homestead, coming slowly into view from the darkness. The adults talked between themselves in hushed tones before turning to Winnie. 

“It’s best you stay here in case Bea comes home,” Papa explained from atop his horse. “I want someone at the house in case she does. Now, listen carefully. I’ve got a gun in the drawer of my bedside table and the bullets are in the top left drawer in the dresser. If Bea comes home, I give you permission to fire one shot into the air outside. That’ll let us know we can come back, all right?” 

Winnie was terrified of guns and even more terrified of having one loaded in front of her sister when she was so upset, but nodded solemnly. “All right, Papa. Is there anything else I can do to help? I – I don’t know what to do, it just feels like this was all my fault…” 

Elijah turned to Winnie. “It’s all right. We’ll get your sister back safe and sound. There’s no way she made it very far. And then you two can talk through whatever it is that made her so upset.”

After Elijah, Mamma, and Papa had gone to fetch Joseph Ebey up the road, Winnie was waiting patiently at the house when there was a quiet knock at the door. 

She steeled herself to face her sister as she slowly approached the door, turning the knob with a shaky hand. Instead of Beatrice, however, there stood Peter, who was smiling from ear to ear per usual. 

“Evening, Winnie. Your mother gave me permission to come over here and keep you company while everyone goes out to look for Bea. She’s cooking up some late night supper for the men with my mother back at our farm in the meantime.” 

Winnie suddenly felt her stomach twist into knots. Now that she had agreed to see Peter in a different light, it made her anxious to be alone with her fiancé. She had yet to spend time unchaperoned with him since he’d proposed in the upstairs loft the month before.

“Oh. By all means, come inside. Would you like some tea or coffee? Or maybe some bread and preserves?” 

Peter shook his head, still smiling. “I’m quite all right, thank you. I was thinking we could just talk instead. It’s rare when we get time alone, isn’t it? Your mother is pretty strict when it comes to chaperoning us.” 

Winnie nodded, privately wishing her mother was quietly sitting in the corner armchair with her needlepoint like she usually was when Peter came to visit.

The two of them settled down at the dining table. Winnie felt Peter’s blue eyes on her face and she couldn’t keep the blush from rising in her cheeks as he scooted in closer, his face marred with concern.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why did Bea run off? Your father was in too much of a hurry to explain to us what had gotten her so upset.”

“She – well…” Winnie trailed off, thinking of hiding the truth before she realized that she had made a promise to her mother to start anew with Peter. “The truth is that she overheard my mother and I talking about the wedding. We hadn’t planned on telling her until we were closer to the day, but she found out in a terrible way and it hurt her feelings greatly. I suppose that’s because she’s still sweet on you.” 

Peter’s shoulders instantly drooped. Before they could talk any more on the subject, the sound of voices outside drew their attention to the front windows.

Outside, the men of Viper Canyon had arrived on horseback while Verity and Mamma trailed close behind on foot.

Beatrice was gently lowered from Papa’s lap on the back of his horse to the ground. She was on her feet for no longer than a few seconds before he dismounted and swept his youngest child into his arms. Beatrice wrapped her arms around his neck like a little girl. It was clear for everyone to see that she was still crying miserably. 

The men who had been roused out of bed to find Beatrice looked irritated yet simultaneously relieved. There was a great tipping of hats and quiet ‘farewell’s as the men who lived closer to Main Street departed on their horses and Joseph followed quickly behind. 

“That didn’t take very long at all, thank The Watcher.” Peter observed. 

Papa looked weary. “She wasn’t far. Just crying where she thought no one would find her. But she’ll be all right.” 

Elijah looked back and forth between Peter and Winnie suspiciously. Cogs were turning in his mind, but not nearly quickly enough to put together the pieces of the hush-hush engagement that had taken place between the two of them.

“I’m just glad she’s home safe,” Elijah said decidedly. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to head back home.” 

“Thank you for all your help tonight,” Papa said sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do if…if something bad happened to one of my girls. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.” 

“It was nothing. I’d be glad to do it again. Have a good night, Emmett. Peter and Winnie, take care.”

“I think I’ll walk back home, now that Bea’s back home safe. It was nice talking to you, Winnie, even if it wasn’t for very long. Hopefully we’ll have more time like that together before the wedding.” 

Again, that familiar bolt of electricity shot through Winnie – this time, she instantly recognized it as raw panic. She found her eyes betraying her as they locked on Elijah’s, whose face was uncharacteristically shocked. His mouth moved back and forth for a moment as the pieces finally clicked into place in his mind. 

“I, er…good night, then.” 

Promptly, he was down the road on horseback, leaving Papa behind with Winnie and Peter. 

“Good night, Peter,” Papa said shortly. “We’ll see you soon, I’m sure.” 

“Of course. Good night, Mr. Hawkins. And good night, Winnie.”

Papa and Mamma wordlessly retreated to the back room, leaving Winnie to climb every excruciating step up the staircase into the loft. She’d always bitterly hated confrontation, ever since she was young, and now she was going to have an acrid mouthful of it from her own sister. 

To Winnie’s surprise, however, she found that Beatrice was already sound asleep in bed. Even though she knew their conversation about what had taken place wouldn’t come in that instant, it did little to ease the nervousness bubbling in her belly. 

As quietly as she could, Winnie changed into her nightgown and plaited her hair, climbing into her bed mere feet away from Beatrice’s.

Beatrice’s back was turned to Winnie and the room felt unnaturally cold. They had always slept facing each other, ever since they were small – they had both grown up afraid of the dark. 

“Bea?” Winnie whispered softly. “Bea, just know…that I’m sorry. And I love you. Sweet dreams.” 

In her bed, Beatrice sniffed softly.

To Be Continued 

Previous Chapter | Viper Canyon Index | Chapter Five

(I finally finished it! I hope it was worth the wait, I felt like this chapter was one of the better ones I’ve done :) Hopefully there was enough drama and suspense to keep everyone happy until CH5 comes. 

I haven’t figured out what I want to happen between this and the little baby timeskip that happens, so I ask you to please be patient! This story is going to be pretty long and I’m trying to iron out the kinks in the plot before it’s too late. And I’m already thinking about a sequel

Anyway, as always, let me know what you thought! I’d love to know where you think the story is going, things you’d like to see, favorite characters, etc. it just makes me happy to know others love this story because I’ve put a lot of time into it! See you in Chapter 5!!)

[thebiblesalesman]

A Knowing Grin: Relationships in What You Left Behind, the New Overwatch Short Story

Baptiste & Mauga

Nguyen & Sainclair

Overwatch & Talon

The Middle East Scenario

Baptiste & Mauga

Baptiste and Mauga moved in tandem, with the practiced ease of soldiers used to fighting together. It had been years, but it came back quickly, as natural as breathing.

“I missed you, you know,” Mauga called over the roar of gunfire. He was enjoying every moment of the battle, relishing the adrenaline. Baptiste could feel that same rush in his veins, too. “All those years you were on the run, and we could have been doing this instead. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss it, too.”

Had he? More than he was willing to admit. He’d spent so many years running, and this felt right—not being part of Talon, but having a place where he belonged, with a dependable team at his back. That was what he’d found when he joined the Caribbean Coalition, and later with Mauga and their squad. Taking care of people centered him, made him feel whole.

Baptiste and Mauga are two people who exist on the same wavelength, uniquely capable of reading how each other are feeling. Their friendship does not require niceties because it is fundamentally about sensitivity. Baptiste was seeking a sense of belonging, and Mauga is the life raft he happened to cling to. Mauga is isolated even among killers for various reasons, but quickly discovered he could refuge all of himself in Baptiste- both his friendly, charismatic exterior, and his colder but more genuine thoughts. Baptiste sees straight through him, and that turns out to be something he appreciates.

Baptiste, along with Sombra and Mercy, is an orphan of war. Throughout his life he has sought a place to take shelter and find meaning in dependable people around him. You can actually compare him to Ashe, who retains her blood relatives and appears blissfully unaffected by the Crisis, but who did not receive the satisfaction of a well-connected family and ultimately invented her own. But unlike Ashe, Baptiste did not have a wealth of opportunities. Overwatch—an organization he dreamed about as a child—never even came to his home country of Haiti. In that organization’s absence, the islands of the Caribbean formed their own Coalition, and he took root there.

He proved an elite medic and prime special ops material. But all things end, the Crisis included, and his service. Baptiste was faced with the threat of no longer belonging, and sought an organization that could make use of his skills. Talon was “a well-paying mercenary group that took on security missions that were sanctioned by official organizations or corporations”. Once inducted, he made fast friends with another recruit, Mauga. Specifically, Mauga “pulled Baptiste into his orbit”, fulfilling that fundamental need in Baptiste to have someone to serve and care for.

“Watch your back,” he shouted instead, taking down a mercenary who’d been about to shoot Mauga.

“That’s your job!” Mauga laughed. His gun tore a path through the guards swarming the top of the staircase, and they ducked for cover. He was in his element, wild and unleashed. He’d been like this on their missions, a hurricane of a man.

With you at my back, we can do anything, he’d told Baptiste once. You’re the best medic in Talon. You keep me alive, and I’ll protect you. No one stands a chance.

Baptiste and the others in their Talon unit—Doubleday, Mazzei, and Pacanowsky —operated as troopers, the same as many other ex-military agents from around the world. Mauga took the role of Heavy Assault, described as follows in the Venice Memorandum: “Believed to be the products of extensive genetic engineering, these elite troopers employ an extremely powerful exoskeleton and stimulants to increase their combat effectiveness.” While violence is a path Mauga chose, it is worth keeping in mind that his brutality is further fueled by engineering, or drugs, or both.

For a time, Baptiste was content with Talon, even as his missions grew increasingly questionable. Four years ago, two years after Talon’s newest leadership figure was jailed by Overwatch, Baptiste realized that his “security missions” were perpetuating the cycle of suffering, that he was creating more Baptistes by his own hand. His closeness with Mauga proved a selfish thing, one of the many comforts Talon offered in exchange for his soul. He fled from the Monte Cristi battlefield, but Mauga proved as attuned to him as ever, and was the first to find him in his escape.

“Cuerva told us that those missions were on the level,” Baptiste said weakly. He’d known the truth, even then. But he hadn’t wanted to believe it. And from the look on Mauga’s face, he knew that, too.

“Of course he did. And of course they weren’t. But who cares? We’re in too deep, Baptiste.” For a moment, all his bravado dropped away. It was just the two of them, no audience, standing beside the water. When he spoke, it was quiet. “There are no good people. Not you, not me. All we can do is have fun while we’ve got the chance.”

And Mauga challenged Baptiste’s narrative of his life. He highlighted two other missions, Makati and Singapore, that had been just as heinous. According to Mauga, Baptiste knew it was wrong the whole time. It was just that in Monte Cristi he encountered something personal—saw a ghost—and that his flight from Talon was just another self-indulgent act. Mauga ultimately let Baptiste go, but he also did not go with him. Baptiste, likewise, never thought to offer that possibility to Mauga.

Unlike Baptiste, who grew up dreaming about a world that could be and an Overwatch that never came to save him, Mauga has made his judgement of the world and the people in it. It makes sense for him to have no interest in deserting: the entire world is as awful as Talon in his eyes, but Talon is where he has the most fun wading through it. But he retains a weakness for Baptiste, his own personal mind-reader, and ultimately he becomes one of the ghosts that Baptiste leaves behind.

Flash-forward four years and Baptiste is consumed by the nightmare of his choice, which has left him without a home or a family. He travels from place to place, trying to outrun the invitations Talon constantly sends after him. It’s not as simple as fearing for his life. Talon prefers his talent, not his blood. His old captain, Cuerva, describes the potential capture of him in the most idyllic sense:

If all goes well, everything will be settled and we’ll be on our way home by tonight. Hopefully Baptiste will be among us, playing cards and drinking rum, instead of lying in a shallow island grave. [Cuerva Strike Team Log]

The threat for Baptiste is playing cards and drinking rum with his fellow soldiers is something he would prefer to running and hiding too. But given it was the behavior of his squadmates and Cuerva that led him to flee Monte Cristi, he has no trouble dispatching all of them when they come to call.

It’s Mauga who becomes the problem. Mauga, his perfect foil, comes hunting Baptiste in Port-de-Paix, stalking out Baptiste’s habitual safety net, inserting himself in Baptiste’s old home—offering himself and Talon as a replacement. Mauga does not do this at the whimsy of some higher-up, but for his own attachment to Baptiste. He comes offering the horror of constant killing, and the chance to belong again.

Even the mission Mauga shuttles Baptiste into is tailored to play on his desire to find purpose in serving others. Mauga’s manipulations are expert, a send-up to the fact that he only plays the role of a brute, and that in truth he is sly and dangerous—unfortunately this too is a trait Baptiste likes about him. Theirs is a friendship compounded by years of fighting beside each other, and as Baptiste embarks on the Port-de-Paix mission, he finds himself coming back to Mauga’s style “as natural as breathing”.

The mission itself seems to be dancing to Mauga’s tune too. Baptiste finally meets a member of Overwatch, and he is man invested in causing suffering to his own city, a man who gave up his comrades for gold. Mauga uses this man to test Baptiste, to get him to break his final code: that he will not kill an unarmed combatant.

But for a second time, Baptiste and Mauga cannot find agreement. Thus when Mauga comes again after Baptiste’s escape, all he offers is death. Just as Baptiste was never able to completely relinquish the comforts of friendship to do what is right, Mauga refuses to relinquish the comfort of Talon for friendship. The two of them are divorced from the larger conflicts of Talon and Overwatch or omnics and humans except as collateral victims, and in Mauga’s case this has produced a demon who is smiling at you as he kills you.

Mauga stood in the full-length window, scanning the canopy of trees. All of the glass panes were blown out, shattered by the bullets from his massive guns. “Baptiste,” he called. “Buddy, I just want to talk.”

The story’s dramatic showpiece of Baptiste and Mauga’s connection sees Baptiste working Mauga out of a battle-lust using nothing but his voice. There are a couple important features to this scene: 1) that Baptiste only gets to Mauga to behave like a friendly human being for a moment, that Mauga smiles, then kills a helpless man anyway, 2) that from the very start Mauga understands Baptiste’s thoughts too.

Mauga spends a lot of his time smiling like he does to Baptiste in the scene, either acting a role, or confident he has worked out everything Baptiste will do. When Baptiste does not behave to his expectations, he goes straight to violence, as it’s the only other skill he has. Their relationship has all the hallmarks of being toxic, but What You Left Behind is seeking a degree of understanding, trying to explain why Baptiste would return to someone who is no good for him, and why he nearly recalls to a life of brutality despite being a “good person”. And in the end, almost the only distinction between Mauga the Berserker and Baptiste the Healer is that somewhere inside Baptiste a shred of hope remains.

Baptiste stood, and Mauga stood with him. “Whatever you’re worrying about, don’t. Get in, get it done, and get paid,” Mauga said, only loud enough for Baptiste to hear. He hefted his pair of machine guns, each as tall as a full-grown man, like they weighed nothing. The coolant tanks on his back gleamed in the scant light. He raised his voice, letting it carry across the dropship. “Now, who’s ready to have some fun?”

Nguyen & Sainclair

“You see what I’m up against, Baptiste? I got him a hat, but he won’t wear it.”

Nguyen looked at the panama hat on the bar top like it was the filthiest thing he’d ever seen. There was a pink sunburned stripe across his nose.

For your reference if you are unfamiliar with Nguyen’s name pronunciation:

At first Talon Senior Analyst Trung Le Nguyen exists to provide an example of a personality that is absolutely repellent to Baptiste, whereas Mauga is an inescapable attraction. Nguyen does not like Baptiste very much either, but there is one other lesson to take from this story: despite Baptiste’s inability to appreciate Nguyen as a person, they are able to work together without issue. Baptiste sees Nguyen as dependable, which makes sense given that Nguyen provided his unit with analysis through all their missions. Nguyen is also more flexible than he may seem, agreeing to meet with Baptiste at Mauga’s insistence despite his own reservations.

Mauga is not as vested in disliking Nguyen as Baptiste. In fact he constantly seems to be trying to rope Nguyen in as he does with most people, but it does not work with Nguyen because Nguyen is impervious to charisma. Despite Mauga and Nguyen not really getting each other like Mauga and Baptiste do, they are also content to work with each other. Mauga and Nguyen also happen to be the only named members of Baptiste’s old unit who are still alive.

We don’t enjoy as deep a look into Nguyen in this story as we do with Mauga, but let’s take a peek at some words and phrases used to describe him from Baptiste’s point of view:

clinical and cold

cold as frostbite

cool, expressionless eyes

[Nguyen’s] voice cut through the air like a knife. Mauga sighed. “Sweet as always.”

From anyone else, the gesture would be courteous. From Nguyen, it felt like a threat.

Nguyen is an easy read as a clinical workaholic, not inclined to emotion, making him a good foil to Mauga’s impulsive brutality. He notably wears the same adequately professional attire, impeccably laundered, day after day. His detachment from excess is strange in Talon, an organization where many of the day-to-day troops are getting their first taste of luxury and end up feasting on it.

But his professionalism cracks toward the end of the story, after he learns that their target Vernand Sainclair has betrayed and murdered Talon forces—the same kinds of grunts as Baptiste and Mauga—stationed at his mansion for his protection, and Vernand further tries to shoot Mauga after promising he is loyal (the bullets ricochet harmlessly off Mauga’s shield and break some windows).

Nguyen stalked forward, Mauga covering him with the shield. “You sent us into a trap. You murdered the forces we stationed here for your protection,” he snarled. Nguyen yanked the gun from Sainclair’s grasp and slammed it onto the desk. “I even set up an appointment. And yet you continue to inconvenience us. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet through your head right now.”

Unlike Mauga, Nguyen appears to display his emotions raw and honestly...it’s just that his most common emotion is disappointment, followed closely by irritation. His anger here probably comes from a variety of sources, but one of the strangest aspects of the story is that Nguyen is on the ground at all. He is an analyst, and despite his John Wick-caliber pistol work, it is not clear why he felt the need to personally handle Sainclair. Nguyen ran analysis for Baptiste’s unit and also for Cuerva’s attempted recovery mission, but it’s not apparent that he has any particular affection for Baptiste...or anyone really. When Baptiste attempts escape, Nguyen’s professional response rules over all others:

There was a gunshot, and pain tore through his left arm. He almost lost his grip on Sainclair. He didn’t have to look to know who had fired that shot, and that he was lucky to have survived.

It is unlikely that Nguyen is any sort of hero candidate at this point, but he is a well-realized accessory to the story and its themes. Everything in What You Left Behind comes in matched pairs—Mauga and Baptiste, Baptiste’s childhood friend Dr. Roseline Mondésir and Dr. Angela Ziegler, Nguyen and Sainclair. But whereas most of these pairs harmonize with each other, exuding similar personalities or goals, Nguyen flatly rejects his counterpart at every turn. Vernand Sainclair is a man of excess, an analyst like Nguyen, but he abhors field work, betrays casually to feed his own self-interest, and like so many members of Talon, he originally worked for Overwatch.

Overwatch & Talon

“You were Overwatch?” Baptiste said, stunned. He’d never met one before. All the dreams he’d had as a teenager, the recruitment poster he hung above his bed at the orphanage, the secret hope that somehow, someday, Overwatch would come in and make everything better. And now one of his childhood heroes stood before him, a man willing to throttle his country to turn a profit and betray his organization to spare his own life.

“I was never in the field. I was just a handler, like you.” Sainclair nodded at Nguyen. “Overwatch always took me for granted. That organization was poisoned from the very start, and the longer I was there, the more I could see that it was slowly rotting from the inside out.”

When the Retribution mission came out, people were quick to note the similarities between the elite Talon units and existing Overwatch agents. The Heavy Assault has a rocket-powered charge just like Reinhardt, the Assassin blinks from perch to perch like Tracer, the Sniper appears in a puff of wraithform smoke. Most fingers ended up pointing at Moira, whose hero profile states:

After Overwatch was disbanded, O'Deorain was forced to turn to unconventional sources of funding. This time, she was invited to join the scientific collective that had founded the city of Oasis. Yet some have whispered that the shadowy Talon organization had already been supporting her for years, aiding her experiments in exchange for utilizing the results for their own purposes. [Hero Profile: Moira]

But What You Left Behind tells us is that the fall of Overwatch and rise of Talon was inevitable, and not the fault of one single betrayer or leak. Towards the end of its life, Overwatch ceased to look like the promise on its recruiting posters—or if you prefer Sainclair’s outlook, Overwatch was never the same as the idea of Overwatch. This also goes back to Mauga’s philosophy: there are no good people anywhere, so even if something like Overwatch was founded with good intentions, the people inside it would eventually fail its honorable mission.

Blackwatch enjoys an especially close connection with Talon. We learn in the story that Talon HQ is in Rome, which is also where the Blackwatch facility was located until it was destroyed by a Talon bombing eight years ago. The Blackwatch Commander and his attending geneticist both became Talon council members, the top sniper in Talon is the widow of a Blackwatch agent, and as we previously saw in Train Hopper many Blackwatch grunts happily became Talon grunts.

But Overwatch also created Talon operatives whenever it failed to reach out enough, such as in Haiti. And Nguyen’s reflective examination of the Recall dossiers at the end of the story also suggests that some existing agents or some who have yet to officially respond may actually be traitors lying in wait.

The mirror of Overwatch and Talon is not as simple as saying “Actually Overwatch is really the evil one!!!111″ Talon is a bunch of terrorists and profiteers. In fact this story tells us that Talon has the exact same issue Overwatch did: it has leaders like Doomfist invested in powerful ideals and visions of the world, but the rank-and-file like Baptiste and Mauga end up engaging in the same petty ravaging that armies have since the beginning of time. The Council is never sharing their entire hand with the grunts either, trusting that their lofty ideals will be accomplished on the backs of handsome mercenary payments.

At this point maybe it’s easy to throw up our hands and say “okay, everything is bad, so why care about any of it?” That’s the exact conclusion Mauga reached. But Baptiste thinks differently. After forcibly escaping Mauga’s clutches at the end of the story, he reviews the Overwatch dossiers and recognizes Dr. Angela Ziegler. They met in their travels because of one shared idea: that they wanted to help communities in need, without violence. Baptiste goes on to recognize how Mercy is very like the local clinic doctor in Port-de-Paix, and very unlike her glossy image on the Overwatch recruitment posters. It is because of his personal connection and personally witnessed strength that he reaches out to her, and not because of an ideal or a formless dream.

I think what the story is trying to get at here is that any organization, regardless of name or mission, is only as good as the people in it. There isn’t good and evil, Overwatch and Talon—there are individuals, and all of them have relationships just as complicated as the one between Baptiste and Mauga.

The Middle East Scenario

Baptiste tapped the glowing dot marking her last known position on the map. He’d thought that Overwatch was dead, but maybe it wasn’t. If Talon was coming for Dr. Ziegler, then she had a right to know. He’d need help tracking her down, but luckily, he knew just who to ask.

Baptiste opened an encrypted app on his phone, entered the password, and hit the call button on the bottom of the screen. It only rang twice before a familiar voice came through the speaker. “Hey, mijo. It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Sombra,” he said, looking at Dr. Ziegler’s profile. “Can you do me a favor?”

Time to gossip about god programs again, yippee!!!

A couple things about this section: 1) It’s going to be more speculative than the others by necessity, so feel free to ignore it!, 2) Ultimately I don’t know what the plot is here...just admitting that up front. I do make a guess though!

So recent Overwatch media has a pattern of introducing a tease at the end. The Blizzardworld map trailer showed Winston, Tracer, Bastion, and Torbjörn chilling in a living room at the end. Reunion ended with Echo. Storm Rising ended by introducing some omnic no one has ever seen before. And What You Left Behind ends by introducing Baptiste’s friendship with Sombra and indicating that he is shipping off to find Mercy with her help. Some of these teases contribute to what I am going to call the “Middle East Scenario”, where a lot of plot threads seem to be orbiting around the Middle East and Mercy, with the potential for converging.

First let’s look at what individuals are actively pursuing Mercy:

Ana & Soldier 76 - Soldier has a documented aversion to Mercy in Bastet, but in the follow-up animation Bastet Rises, Ana ends up hauling his useless carcass all the way to Mercy’s doorstep. Bastet tells us that Ana for some reason knows where Mercy is, and Soldier’s wounds in Bastet (from an attack by Reaper in Old Soldiers—still with me?) are not healing correctly, necessitating a slightly more advanced medical approach than Ana’s field stitching. I guess you could argue the canonicity of Bastet Rises, but it was commissioned by Blizzard and I’m pretty sure that Genjicat in the final shot is the only wink-wink.

Baptiste - Of course What You Left Behind ends with Baptiste seeking Mercy out to warn her of Talon’s interest in her and the other former agents. He’s checking for a physical location, so he probably intends to meet her in person. The only complication here is timing: Baptiste’s story takes place three days after the Recall, the events of Bastet take place around the same time as Reflections (where you can see Ana and Soldier moping together at Christmas), so whatever Baptiste is doing he’s either taking a really scenic route to Mercy or he actually meets her separately from Ana and Soldier meeting her. Reflections also shows us that Mercy is still chilling in a tent somewhere, so if anybody has met with her they have yet to disrupt her post-Overwatch routine of traveling from one humanitarian mission to another.

Reaper - In a general sense Reaper operates as Talon’s executioner and would be seeking Mercy for that reason. Baptiste seems to think Talon is a very present threat at the end of the story, though he may not know Reaper personally. There is a second reason Reaper may show up at Mercy’s house, which is his pursuit of Ana and Soldier. Soldier specifically worries about staying in one place too long because of Reaper in Bastet.

Sombra - Likely to be in touch with the good doctor, at least virtually, due to Baptiste calling in a favor. Baptiste and Sombra met while they were both working at Talon, per the Developer Q&A.

Next we should consider what other forces are operating regionally or who otherwise might get pulled into Mercy’s orbit:

Pharah & Helix Security - From Bastet we know Ana has written a letter to Pharah, but Pharah has yet to respond. Soldier speculates that Ana will request Pharah to manage some artifacts at the Necropolis, and encourages her to contact Pharah again. If Pharah does seek out Ana, the trail will inevitably lead her to Mercy. Helix Security, the private military Pharah works for, is also active in the post-Recall timeline. The Anubis god program broke out of a Helix facility, and so did Doomfist, quite effortlessly. Despite this there is nothing currently indicating Helix is a Talon puppet. Talon has an interest in their properties but has been unable to access them freely. Reaper notes that Helix is unaware of the true value of what they are guarding. It’s hard to imagine Helix being unaware of the importance of keeping Doomfist imprisoned, which along with Sombra’s involvement suggests Talon’s interest is in a software asset—Anubis, or something like it.

Helix Security should have upgraded the Anubis facility after we took it over a few years back. And now the worst has happened—or it’s about to. The Anubis A.I.—one of the “god programs” Overwatch quarantined after the Omnic Crisis—broke its containment at 2300 hours.  

Anubis - Pharah and her team destroyed Anubis in Mission Statement. Ten years before that, Overwatch quarantined Anubis for the first time. Overwatch’s intervention led Egypt into a state of famine and ruin, which suggests very strongly that Anubis was originally some sort of post-Crisis A.I. infrastructure initiative. In fact the first panel of Old Soldiers shows some graffiti on a wall that reads “A.I. is our right”. It seems that whatever Overwatch did, they not only goofed it up hard, but that their intervention was not necessarily desired in the first place. A further incident occurs in Cairo three years after Overwatch’s Anubis intervention, while the humanitarian crisis is in full swing, but no details are given—it’s a background headline in the Uprising comic. By the time Mission Statement comes to pass, the Anubis A.I. was badly malfunctioning and its containment facility lacked the necessary security upgrades to handle it (remember Reaper’s comment about Helix not knowing what they are guarding...). We don’t know what Anubis was like when Overwatch originally intervened in its operation, but we do know that the humanitarian crisis sparked by that intervention was of special concern to both Mercy and Ana. Even with all this information, I feel like there is a catalyst missing. After all, Anubis is dead, and Talon has not been successful in getting whatever it is they want out of Helix Security’s protection. But Storm Rising may have offered the missing piece...

We learn that Doomfist is in collusion with whoever that mysterious omnic gentleman was. […] No, he’s not a part of Talon. […] Even though we’re in the past here, we’re learning about something that’s coming up, that’s unfolding… We know there’s going to be a minor detour because Doomfist has to spend a few years in jail because he’s going to get captured shortly after this. But then, the plan will unfold. [Jeff Kaplan]

Storm Rising Mystery Omnic - There are multiple reasons to believe this omnic is a member of Null Sector, but the remaining weirdness to his appearance is that he meets Doomfist in Egypt. Why would either Null Sector or Doomfist be in Egypt? The only clue we have is Jeff’s comment, that the two of them had a plan to execute six years ago, but it got put on hold after Doomfist was jailed. The possibility exists that this plan requires access to a powerful infrastructure A.I. like Anubis, and what we see in Old Soldiers is that Talon is trying to get access to property guarded by Helix Security... It would be interesting if Overwatch’s apparent mistake in Egypt came back to haunt them ten years later. There’s a lot of ghosts in this game.

Moira & Oasis - A lot of these orbiting issues are centralized in Egypt, but Mercy’s position on the map in Recall is closer to Iraq. We know she isn’t precisely in Oasis because Oasis is hardly the site of a humanitarian crisis, but it’s not unfathomable that she would know people working there. That includes the Minister of Genetics, Moira, who is also on the Talon council, and who also gets regular visits from Reaper to further treat his condition. If, say, Soldier 76 showed up on Mercy’s doorstep with a stubborn wound caused by Reaper, the temptation might be there to reach out to Moira to help treat him. One of the weirdest unresolved plot threads in Overwatch is also potentially connected to Oasis—Dr. Hamid Faisal, whose excavations at Petra and Ayutthaya make use of Oasis-style drones. Faisal works for an unknown benefactor, and also has work at Ilios, a site from which Talon has been attempting to steal artifacts. As revealed in Bastet, Ana also knows Faisal and has a favorable opinion of his work.  

Genji - Genji, you say? Well at the time of Reflections we know Genji is aware of Mercy’s location since he is writing her a physical letter that presumably is addressed and mailed and not just delivered by a dragon Fed-Ex. He and Zenyatta appear to be chilling in Nepal (geddit), but there is nothing saying Genji isn’t going to walk over for a visit sometime. Wouldn’t it be just fun if he happened to arrive at the same time as all this other stuff was going down? Zenyatta could come too and enter directly into the middle of this big vengeful Old Soldiers plot and save some lives! What? No? Okay, back to my corner then.

In speculative conclusion: another animated short ala Infiltration, introducing a new hero (MO?) while simultaneously advancing the plot? There are a lot of moving pieces here though, and a lot of characters to render in an 8-10 min runtime. Bear in mind that Mission Statement was originally supposed to be an animated short and was cancelled for similar reasons. So there might be some additional media interventions building up to some showpiece cinematic.

But know that I will always consume and digest to a paste more short stories and comics Blizz, you can count on me!

References

What You Left Behind [short story]

Cuerva Strike Team - Log Recovered [blog post]

Venice Memorandum Declassification [blog post]

Baptiste Developer Q&A [forums discussion]

Baptiste [hero profile]

Baptiste [origin story]

Mercy [hero profile]

Moira [hero profile]

Sombra [hero profile]

Storm Rising [voicelines/cinematics]

Storm Rising [Creator Residency stream] (Jeff Kaplan/OhNickel/Fareeha -  2019.4.16)

Bastet [short story]

Bastet Rises [animation] (by Dillongoo, commissioned by Blizzard Entertainment)

Train Hopper [comic]

Mission Statement [comic]

Old Soldiers [comic]

Reflections [comic]

Masquerade [comic]

Uprising [comic]

Retribution [comic]

Recall [cinematic]

[inkribbon796]

The Heart and Soul of Egoton Ch 2

Summary: Looking for clues, the heroes hold a meeting to trade information and meet a couple friendly faces they haven’t met in a while.

A/N: Continuation of chapter 1.

Chapter 2: Meeting in the Middle

Previous

Inside the meeting room everyone was talking, Virgil felt a little nervous. Dr. Iplier helped Virgil get a chair at the edge of the table. Silver and Jackie had been friendly to him but they tended to get more than a bit loud and Virgil was glad he wasn’t seated between even people he knew. Even if Patton was trying to save a seat for him.

Silver walked out to take a call before coming back in. “Okay, so Amy isn’t coming in, she wants to take care of something in town, but told me to take notes for her.”

“That’s fair,” Jack shrugged. “She sure she doesn’t need help.”

“I offered, she said she had enough hands on deck,” Silver reported.

“Well at least we’re all not here letting Egoton tear itself apart,” Abe yelled, he was at a large cork board putting stuff up all over it with Bing and Joan. There were pictures and papers all over the cork board, dozens of colored string connecting them.

“We picked a slow day for a reason,” Silver reminded. “Wil’s out of town and Nate seems to have taken his doppelganger with him. This is the best chance we’ve got to do this.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it,” Abe responded. “I should be out there chasing Warfstache, hell only knows what he’s up to.”

“Fookin’ married folk and killin’ people,” Chase answered. “Exactly the same thin’ he’s always doin’.”

Abe motioned with his hands to Chase and gave Mark one of his wide-eyed expectant stares.

“We’ll make it short and you can start chasing him,” Mark promised.

“I better get out of here ASAP,” Abe decided.

“Hey, wise guy,” Marvin walked in with Robbie who immediately hobbled over excitedly to Henrik who, much like a mother hen, frantically checked to see if he was still all in one piece. The German doctor glared at Marvin when he saw that his ear was in danger of falling off. “We all got shit ta do.”

“Vhat did you do to him?” Henrik barked.

“Calm yer shit, mom,” Marvin rolled his eyes, even if no one could really see it through the mask, it could almost be heard in his voice. “He came to me like that, don’t know what he was up to.”

“I help Marv,” Robbie smiled.

Marvin glared at the zombie, sighing, “When ye say it like that, it’s like I’m the bad guy.”

Henrik was still glaring at him.

“I didn’t do anythin’ to him,” Marv defended, taking a seat that let him put the table in-between the magician and the two doctors. “I wouldn’t.”

“I do good?” Robbie asked as Henrik directed him to sit next to him.

“Ja, ja,” Henrik sighed and started stitching his ear back on. “Sit still vill you?”

“I tried,” Marvin told Henrik. Then he leaned back in his chair to look up and down the table. Even standing up a bit to get another good luck at everyone at the table.

The magician’s eyes couldn’t be seen that well, but Virgil knew a hostile stance when he saw one.

“What’s up Marv?” Chase asked, he and J.J were directly across the table from him. J.J’s pocket watch in his hand, as if braced for something to happen.

“S’nothin’,” Marvin decided, sitting back down, watching J.J intently. “Prolly just my imagination.”

J.J was still turning the pocket watch around. Marvin did pass him a message under the table that read, “Do that again, and I’ll eat all your cheetos, you arse”.

J.J snickered to himself in amusement, pocketing the note so even Chase didn’t have the opportunity to read.”

“What?” Chase asked.

“Nothing,” J.J sighed. “Marvin is funny.”

After about fifteen minutes, Logan came in looking like he’d been running at a full sprint and was frantically trying not to show it. The Host followed at a much slower pace.

“The Host said we would be on time,” the Host smiled.

“Inexcusable,” Logan straightened his tie and glasses. “We are late. I am not a tardy person.”

Marvin leaned back in his chair, Virgil noticed that he looked like he wanted to say something but kept quiet.

“If it eases Logic’s conscious, he can blame the Host, he was distracted and did not keep travel time in mind,” the Host talked as he  walked over to the end of the table where King was. Taking his usual seat directly across from Dr. Iplier. He was muttering narrations as he went. Most of his comments were listing off people who were muttering under their breath or looking at him and Logan.

“Lo, it wasn’t that long, we haven’t even started yet,” Patton tried to calm Logan.

“One minute is tardy, the Host and I are inexcusably late,” Logan corrected. “This meeting should have begun without us.”

“Too bad,” Marvin finally spoke up, his tone firm and a bit hostile.

  Logan gave him a questioning and confused look as he went to sit in-between Host and King.

“Alright, so we’re all here?” Abe finally said. “Good, sooner we get all this done, the better. First order of business is this eyesore.”

The detective stomped over to point at Bing’s picture on the wall. He was close to the center of the mess on the cork board. It looked like a theater head shot. “This little asshole is part of the League, and Dark is covering for him to keep him from being identified.”

“How sure are we that he’s the Dorm 5 Killer?” Jack asked. “Cause the sooner we put that bastard away the better.”

“If it’s not him, it’s Dark and Wilford combined and the D5’s M.O is nowhere close to theirs. They’d just announce themselves and be done with it and we’d know.”

“What do we need to actually put this guy behind bars? Cause the last time we tried to take someone in on what we thought was enough evidence, they got to walk.” Ethan reminded, picking at his lip. “I don’t want that again.”

“As gruesome as it sounds?” Mark intervened. “A body? A murder weapon? We need something other than they just ran away. A case can be made for two of the guys, but we’ve got four people who are just gone that their families and their friends swear up and down that they would never run away. Something happened to them, they have too much to run away from.”

“What exactly do we know about this guy?” Bob asked. “I leave for a couple months and suddenly we’ve got a serial killer on our hands?”

“As far as the news an’ public know he’s been operatin’ fer about five months,” Jackie answered. “But he’s probably been at this fer longer. We don’t know how long.”

“Five bucks said he’s been preying on the homeless and transient people in the city,” King agreed. “Not even I know how many people come and go unnoticed in the city. And I’ve only been at my job for two years. Anyone could be killing or taking advantage of them and people would never know.”

“Ugh, that’s depressin’,” Jack took a steadying breath. All the heroes looking varying mixes of guilty and uncomfortable.

“Is there anyone who would have tabs on this trimmer guy Trimmer?” Wade asked.

“Warfstache,” Abe proposed. “He’s under the same media umbrella as Wil, but he probably wouldn’t be able to tell us anything before stabbing us. Plus, if he is his kid and under Dark’s protection, the last thing we want to do is alert Dark that we’re tailing the kid.”

“That’s still wild,” Ethan rubbed at his face. “I can’t see him with a kid.”

“Damn right,” Abe agreed. “Look, I’ve been chasing Wil’s ass since I joined the force, an’ let me tell you, the man’s not the fatherly type. It amazes me that this kid even survived to adulthood.”

“Probably no credit to that maniac,” Wade scoffed.

King actively bit his tongue and glared at his hands.

“Dark is most likely the reason he’s alive,” Dr. Iplier spoke up. “He’s anal-retentive enough to step on Wilford’s toes if he does something he doesn’t like.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if this kid isn’t the end of it, Wil’s got other kids and for some reason Dark cares about this one,” Abe leaned over the table. “Probably has some superpower and the others just don’t.”

“They might not know, or something could have happened to them,” Roman answered.

“Could be,” Joan agreed. “Not much we can do about the kid until we can get a hold of him to answer him? Have we been able to get a hold of him?”

“Every time we’ve tried he’s either been on set or absolutely nowhere, cause we can’t find him,” Marvin groaned. “His aura dead ends mid-room. Prolly Dark portin’ him out.”

“Ye know,” Chase began. “We might be able ta get a backdoor if we can catch Wilford with Damien. Still need to find a way to check in on that one. If he’s not drumin’ ta Dark’s beat, we can at least have that off the table.”

“How are we going to prove that?” Mark shouted.

“I could do it,” Ethan offered. “If I’ve got time to brace even Dark can’t see me. So there’s no reason why Wilford should spot me.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” King asked.

“The Host agrees with King,” Host interjected. “What Crank suggests can only lead to a violent confrontation.”

“Come on, it’s Damien, what have I got to be afraid of?” Ethan scoffed.

“Here, we can come up with some kind of a shield he can break out if he’s caught by one of them,” Marvin spoke up. “I want some loose ends tied off.”

The Host’s mouth became a thin line, his bandages starting to dark with blood. “That . . . might just be enough.”

“Okay, so I’ve got Damien, what are we going to do about Ed?” Ethan asked. “Cause I’m not comfortable with the fact that I used to live by a child trafficking ring. Like, at all.”

“Run us through exactly what Ed said,” Mark looked at Patton.

“To wash the site, and some of his guys didn’t like that,” Patton answered. “Ed ordered them to do it because Dark wanted it taken care of, even if it was an L.O site. Whatever that is.”

“Okay,” Mark seemed to thinking through something in his head. “Was there any clue about what that meant?”

Patton shook his head.

“Mean love?” Robbie inquired, looking at Bing.

“If it does, I’ll eat my entire microprocessor, dude,” Bing answered.

“Hey, hot shot,” Joan looked over at King, their head tilting. “Do you remember anything in the books you used to manage about a L.O?”

“Unless it’s a name, no?” The animal magnet answered. “Cause those are the types of books I worked. I did inventory and reports on people, but I only know them by their initials, not by their faces or actual names. Dark never worked like that. At best, he used code names and hell I never learned what some of those meant, I just had to track what resources they had.”

“How many do you remember?” Ethan drumming his fingers once or twice.

“Probably about five names, but it sounds like you’re looking for an it, not a who.” King looked at the board full of papers and strings. “Maybe it’s a designation. You guys said That Ed was there, maybe it just part of his absolutely awful trafficking ring and less to do with Dark.”

“Then why would Dark order the site destroyed if it was disturbed,” Bob asked. “Dark doesn’t do anything unless it benefits him. I know, I used to get into fights with him and Warfstache. Wil and Anti are impulsive, Dark isn’t.”

“Perhaps there’s some book that could be traced back to him in the building or in an underground basement,” Logan suggested. “If Ed’s network could be traced back to specific areas Dark owns it gives us and the police grounds to have the place searched.”

“As if we don’t already,” Roman refuted. “He launders money and moves illegal firearms through the city and to the rest of the country. What difference does child trafficking make in the face of all the people he’s killed and the children he’s left orphaned. Dark and his cronies are enough of scumbags?”

“Well there must be some reason,” Logan looked back at Roman, the creative Side’s eyes scrutinizing him. “Dark is a creature of habit, he is observed doing and being at places on a daily basis. There must be some greater reason. The influencing needs must be either: emotional, physical, or monetary. We know he is an enemy of the public, so he must have ordered the site’s termination for some reason.”

“Dark’s only known emotions are rage and spite,” Mark scoffed.

“There must be some reason,” Logan seemed to get frustrated with something. “There has to be.”

Then Logan seemed to think on it, “Why would Dark take in a child and cultivate that child to adulthood? Perhaps we are asking the wrong question.”

“Well, I’ve got a crackpot theory that might mean nothing, but I’ll shoot,” Iplier answered. “I’ve been talking with the Detective and he might be doing it to have more control over Wilford and the town.”

“Vhy?” Henrik looked at his colleague. “Doesn’t he have zat zrough nepotism already.”

“If the paper trail’s wrong, nothing changes,” Iplier sighed. “If it’s right, Dark could sweep up even more of Egoton, so long as Trimmer is Wil’s kid, and Wil is a Barnum.”

“Fuck!” Mark swore, cradling his head in his hands. “No! Tell me you’re joking me.”

Iplier looked at Abe. Ethan, Bob, and Wade seemed equally distressed.

“Okay, is this an Egoton thing because that name’s not ringing any bells,” Patton smiled.

“Alright, long story,” Mark warned. “There’s three big rich families that all kinda disappeared about the same time. Barnum, Doomstrum, and Iplier.”

“Iplier?” Logan looked over at Dr. Iplier.

The American doctor shrugged dismissively, “My dad married in. Iplier might as well be a dead name.”

“So, the Doomstrums, the ones who owned the lake, were practicing some really shady stuff,” Mark relayed. “They might have even been the ones to bring Dark to Egoton in the first place. But they took all their wealth, and all the Barnum’s wealth and kinda time capsuled it with blood magic. Don’t know why, maybe because they knew Dark was on his way? But if a Barnum could access it, that combined wealth is a ridiculous amount of money, enough to buy up whatever parts of the city Dark doesn’t already have, and probably parts of the rest of all the other sectors with little resistance.”

Jack paled at that, “I can already think of three gangs who would jump ship at that.”

King looked over at Host, whispering, “Did you know about this?”

“The Author did not,” Host answered. “The Host does.”

“Why the wait?” Logan leaped out of his chair, as if he couldn’t stand being contained by it anymore. “If his aim is more accrued wealth, why not have Warfstache access it decades ago?”

“Don’t know,” Iplier asked. “We just found this out. Maybe the person who unlocks it has to be a Doomstrum too, maybe that’s why Dark kept this kid and not any other and Dark bought the mom off?”

Suddenly, Patton had an idea. He could almost audibly hear the light bulb going off in his head. “It’s Celine.”

Everyone snapped to look at him.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Think about it,” Patton began to ramble. “If Celine’s the mom that explains why she was here a couple months ago instead of when her kid was plastered all over the news. How Damien could be involved without Dark having to pay him off. He’s not being bribed, he’s probably being threatened. Because if, like the Doc said and he needs a Doomstrum too, then he needs the mom close enough to give him the kiddo in the first place, but easy to push out of the way.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Mark reminded.

“Celine is working with Dark, I don’t know how to prove it but she is,” Patton began to spiral. “Call it intuition or gut, but I can feel it.”

“Okay, well, feelings aren’t going to arrest someone who is, by all accounts, not in town anymore,” Mark said.

“I could find out,” Logan blurted out.

The room went quiet.

“How?” Marvin hyper focused on the logical Side.

“I’m probably the only one who could figure out,” Logan began to ramble under his breath, as if he didn’t hear the magician. “My position would certainly help me look, even if it is 

A risky venture.”

“Hey, genius, what’s that supposed ta mean?” Marvin demanded.

J.J set his pocket watch on the table, loudly knocking to get everyone attention. Then he started signing where everyone could see. “We need to end the meeting. I don’t want to have this meeting a third time.”

“Third time?” Joan repeated in confusion and concern.

“Come on,” Marvin argued. “Ye can’t be serious.”

J.J stood up and signed something at Logan, Chase needing to translate it when it was clear Logan couldn’t understand it. “Return to work. Be careful.”

Logan stopped his rambling, and signed one of the few things he actually knew in sign language. “Thank you.”

Then he seemed to collect himself, speaking, “Your right, I’m probably just tired.”

Finally Logan left, Patton racing after him. “Lo, wait up.”

Roman stood up, “We have anything else to talk about?”

“We’re probably good enough,” Mark looked over at Abe and scanned the rest of the room. “Inheritance scheme or not, we need to get back to work.”

“Yeah, that bubblegum maniac won’t catch himself,” Abe agreed. “We can leave this up for everyone else.

Slowly the room began to pack up except for the cork board. The tension in the room between Marvin and the Host almost palpable.

[naruhearts]

14x10: Dean Free Will Winchester, Destiel, TFW, and the Only Win

Originally posted by michaeldean

*trips over feet*

I still have no proper words re: the seamless interconnections of TFW/Dean/Emotional Arc-centric meta that most of the meta community has already yelled and written extensively about since S12. 14x10 was a META EXPLOSION, my friends. I had complete chills!! Yockey’s magnificent soup lent us years of Dean/TFW-characteristic meta narratively realized like some colourful picnic basket of psychology.

I’m sure I missed some awesome stuff considering I haven’t rewatched it yet, but for now, here’s my semi-coherent first-impression thoughts (some of which I copy-pasted from twitter) under the cut!!

On the other hand, if you don’t want to read this massive post, it can be succinctly summarized in one phrase:

Originally posted by @intelligentshipper

Dean is the cage. Man, yes I know, the NARRATIVE WEIGHT AND SYMBOLISM OF DEAN LOCKING HIMSELF UP; Dean’s possibly in “physically rough shape” (translation: emotionally rough shape) inside the cage he built for himself. As the Master of Repression and Locking Up Emotions, this unhealthy psychological mechanism in this case becomes his controlled strength against the core of his trauma and everything Michael represents *points at Dean meta* therein lies the beautiful paradox of the human condition. Dean Humanity Winchester is the poster boy for it. It’s all led to this! Don’t you love when our characters undergo self-translation from unwanted/coerced destiny to chosen role (after Michael manipulated Dean’s freely given “Yes”. And recall the same key theme with Sam occupying the position of Gatekeeper to Hell re: Lucifer trauma in 14x01)? 

x

14x10 in itself offsets the rest of what we’re gonna see characteristically as per TFW’s individual narrative journeys (and Destiel arc; we’ve observed the continuation of Dean and Cas role reversals as per usual, with Mind!Pamela and Father Figure Michael serving as heavy-hitter Casifer-reminiscent exposition). “Nihilism” and “Damaged Goods” paired through subversion, where Dean going on a ‘suicide’ mission via imprisoning himself with Michael isn’t done out of SOLE low self-worth (don’t get me wrong, he still hasn’t fully emancipated himself yet) but mostly 50% low self-worth and 50% martyrdom for his loved ones. Toxic codependency is no longer the basis of Dean’s self-sacrificial choices, but LOVE AND…LOVE. However, Dean still assumes he deserves to imprison himself. Michael capitalizes on Dean’s depressive trauma and low self-worth in that his conditioning since childhood to internalize self-blame for Sam and Cas’ problems - the world’s problems - works in the Archangel’s favour. He both projects Dean’s fears onto Sam and Cas then breeds their self-doubt by framing them as lacking genuine altruistic value to Dean and hitting TFW where it hurts altogether. A double-double coffee of anguish. 

Here we come back to Michael’s overarching role this season as the Harbinger of Truth (as I wrote about when the season first began x x) 

Michael!Dean assumes he knows what people want, and yes, maybe in some respects he does in fact know, but I mentioned that he distorts a person’s sense of “worthiness to be saved” (oh, I wonder where I heard that previously) by exploiting their self-hate/respective mental uncertainty of their wants vs needs.

That’s the GOLD about Michael’s role: he’ll be uncovering an entire interpersonal discourse on the characters figuring out (and using their damn communicative skills to accentuate) what they WANT vs. NEED. Again, clarification of truths. 

In 14x10, we were largely reminded of Michael and his intrinsic link to S14′s themes and TFW (copy-pasted from my 14x01 review meta; meta builds and builds on itself!):

WHAT DO YOU WANT, A New Beginning (a New World Order, a Better World in Michael’s case reminiscent of S6/7 like I expected. Michael is the absolute antithetical figure to Dean Humanity Winchester, who is blinded by authoritarianism), Love Is Weakness (Love is also STRENGTH, and different kinds of love exist, where we see more singular vs plural dialogue e.g. Cas’ “You have me. You have all of us”) and Family Is Unity.The fact that Michael is the one asking people what they want, specifically directing it to Anael the Destiel/Cas mirror (which she was in 13x13), bodes VERY well for me. He’s going to hold a key overarching position in the clarification of truths and Want Vs Need for TFW with significant flavours of past Eldritch Expositional Big Bads like Amara. Anael is feeling a lack of kinship. She desires belonging. A home. And it’s all very human of her. Because of this emotionality, Anael has FALLEN.

What is your truth? Confront your truth. Accept what you see in the mirror (like I was saying the other day) and glue that broken reflection back together into something empowering. Honest. Genuine. Self-actualizing. And considering Dean is imprisoned within his own body (confinement/imprisonment was again tangible across the episode both plot, visual, and characteristic-wise where TFW, impacted by Dean the Heart Hero’s absence, left a gloomy sense of detachment, helplessness, expendability, and failure internalization) and considering Dean is no doubt hearing Michael reiterate this main thematic question has me buzzing with the joys of self-introspection!!

What do you want, Dean Winchester? What do you want, Cas? What does everyone want?

**Michael additionally gauges the purity of potential recruits for his Supermonster army via hunger. What are you hungry for? What do you crave? Seemingly calls back to S5 Famine and the emptiness derived from losing something alongside experiencing trauma. And when Michael offers you the misleading opportunity, will you take it? Are you worthy? Michael distorts worthiness (Dean’s worthiness; indeed, Dean fills the episode’s negative spaces) by exploiting self-hate. Cas enhances (Dean’s) worthiness by providing freedom.

The “turning point” between Dean and Cas in 12 may actually be Dean saying goodbye (then perhaps finding out about Cas’ deal; we shall see). This could call back to 11x23, where Dean was also surrounded by his family pre-sacrifice. Dean thinking he needs to “die” - to lock himself up - in order for them to win may segue into TFW “wishing” things were different, thus somehow inducing John’s return (and possibly Chuck’s re: Daddy Issues) in 14x13.

Dean wasn’t left alone at the end of the episode. His family - Sam and Cas - were there with him as the wonderful antithesis re: Michael isolating Dean. Separating family ends up unifying family, BUT like I said above, he was still able to hit them where it hurt. Michael the Manipulator used words to twist their thoughts into self-doubt - sow self-discord, yet TFW worked as a unit to strike back. Lessons learned: stronger together, weaker apart.

x

Sam and Cas occupying the dark Empty-parallel space in Dean’s mind. His MIND was an EXPOSÉ. ALL THE TRAUMA, and it’s incredibly significant that we observed Cas scanning Dean’s traumatic memories (obviously he’s an angel, but the meta undercurrents of this killed me). Cas has now actually seen/felt/heard Dean’s trauma, anguish, and long-running depression instead of Dean using his words to tell him about such trauma; it’s ingenious storytelling, not to mention Sam introspecting over Dean’s own trauma in order to find him was SUPER uplifting and META ironic --> Finding Dean involves happiness. Most importantly, Cas was witness to Dean’s low self-worth, negative self-process, failure internalization, and fear of the future without blinking, yet he also displayed total worry, compassion, and barely concealed panic - as if he couldn’t bear to think about the multilayered traumatic prison that Michael trapped Dean within. Sam said “Dean is strong.” Cas replies that Dean is “more than strong.” To Cas, Dean’s strength of mind, body, and soul shines, and this is why he’s in love with this man - his charge. He loves him in the face of his trauma and past mistakes. Once I have time, I should discuss the memories we heard, but of course they involve his time in Hell (and his S3 mirror telling him he will become a demon. Moc/Demon!Dean callbacks). 

CAS: So much. So much trauma in Dean’s mind. There’s so many scars.

SAM: Well yeah. Dean’s been through a lot, but he’s strong.

CAS: Sam...you’ve both been through a lot, and Dean is more than strong [...] Because Michael has Dean trapped away - drowning - I have to wade through Dean’s most terrible memories.

SAM: Would Michael bury Dean in trauma? Michael said it himself. The reason he left Dean in the first place was because Dean was fighting back so hard. 

CAS: So if Michael wanted to keep Dean placated--

SAM: Dean thrives on trauma. He’s had to his whole life. It keeps him alert -- keeps him ready. But if I wanted to distract Dean, I’d give him something he’s never had before.

CAS: Contentment. 

x

(**Sam’s right, but he’s also wrong. Dean “thrived” on trauma because he had to as the consequence of a misguided John-imbued childhood, where he mostly skipped over the innocent era of being a healthily developing child and became an adult overnight: father, mother, and brother rolled into one. A good little soldier, and he created various masks of performativity in response to trauma. Multiple tiny seeds of self-doubt grew into worthless that then bred emotional misarticulation, repression, and psychological instability. x)

14x10 majorly ties into SPN’s season-long storytelling commentary on TFW’s perception of Happiness and the overarching themes of Happiness vs Sadness. Cas stated to Jack how The Life™ rarely gives oneself happiness last episode. Ultimately, can you believe Dean’s accrued trauma has been textualized like this?! 

Michael knows that Dean has never been happy. 

Dean never lets himself have what he wants to have nor be who he wants to be. He is entrapped by fearing real happiness, and his trauma holds him back from achieving what he wants - continues to make him believe that he doesn’t deserve to be content.

And Dean certainly wants Cas. He is fully cognizant and self-aware of this fact. Narratively reconsolidated in musical exposition by the Marshall Tucker Band’s “Searchin’ for a Rainbow”, Dean searches for the rainbow endlessly, but he’s uncertain…afraid of the wind’s flow (and his internalization of low self-worth remains –> he believes “all good things come to an end”. Temporary contentment, where he’s undeserving of such good things as epitomized by real estate woman who wants to infringe on Dean’s property/dream; ‘sell it out’ literally and figuratively).

Either Dean will find his pot of gold waiting for him, or he won’t, and this is the underlying star-crossed literary beauty of the D/C narrative.

Dean’s sick of pretending. He WANTS the wind to show him the way, but we must remember that, in an episode rich with the concept of authorial authority - writing your own fate and ever-glaring Free Will - he NEEDS to blow the wind himself. If he just allows himself to believe that he can have true happiness, then he will.

*I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM, WE ALL SCREAM FOR META-INTROSPECTION!* 

Michael’s “I Am You” —> Dean knows he is Michael - the reflection who embodies all the dark parts of himself, just like Dark!Kaia underlined - but he also knows he isn’t Michael, and Dean will use it to his advantage. Dean has what Michael lacks: FAMILY. x

“EVEN GOD CAN DIE.” This cracks open so many parental absenteeism eggs. Cas’ conversation with Michael over Chuck, the ultimate deadbeat absent father figure, was simply an outlet for Michael to attribute his self-righteously immoral actions to his fatherly abandonment. Bitterness. And Cas, more humanized than ever, is aware of Michael’s shortcoming: “confusing loyalty and compassion with weakness”, thus these perceived “weaknesses” are foils to Michael’s preference for isolation, solitude, mercilessness, betrayal, and hatred.

 MICHAEL: Playing nursemaid to a nephilim. Nothing like the Castiel I knew. He would’ve never been so...anemic. 

Loyalty and compassion are human traits - despised by most angels such as Naomi and Ishim; belittled by Michael - that Cas recognizes and practices. *human!Cas feelings* He has evolved, and as I said in my 14x01 Cas meta: 

Earth [is] the true home of Cas the Fish, which bridges his intrinsically human emotionality/disposition as an ex-Angel of The Lord to his sense of belonging. Growing legs to replace fins. Evolution of character. And Dean Winchester, right from their point of contact in Perdition, was the driving spark for his evolution.

“It’s all you,” Dean says to his reflection in the mirror, a repeated mantra, as Michael tries to break out of Dean’s mind, bringing my pre-14x01 meta of MIRRORS to light!! Dean confronted the reflection of himself that he has always hated, where the deep-seated worthlessness that he must eliminate is buried with Michael -- the narrative embodiment of Dean’s toxic shackles: predeterminism, Brodependency, parental absenteeism, repression, toxic misemotionality, and blunt tool expendability as his father’s hammer and society’s hammer. I adore Dean’s consistent self-awareness over the seasons as he learns to differentiate what he can and cannot control. And Michael is jailed inside a FRIDGE *light bulb explodes* It’s time to achieve self-actualization. Sure progress.

DEAN’S “ROCKY’S BAR” EASTER EGGS, MIND!PAMELA BARNES AND DESTIEL

Rocky’s Bar (Rocky & Bullwinkle & Friends!!) was an EASTER EGG meta dream set by Wanek, with thematic colours of blue (depression, loneliness, and isolation -- blue is immediately evoked as soon as Dean starts gaining self-awareness of his past trauma-laden life and remembers the real Pamela), dim reds and somber yellows. GOOD STUFF!!

@intelligentshipper​ wrote/gathered superb colour meta on this consistent palette of Self + Depression this season - RED || BLUE & YELLOW || I’ve also briefly touched upon the recurring hues that we saw in another hardcore meta episode: Scoobynatural 13x16.

Hello bisexual colours (pink, purple, blue in this setting; observe the metaphor of this very moment - Repressive Toxic Past/Paternal Figure Michael wrestling for dominance over Dean. We live in a meta world.)

Without sounding redundant, here’s the list of Easter Eggs by sasquatchandleatherjackets/mittensmorgul. 14x10 bursts with so much symbolism that it warrants >2 rewatches!

SEARCHIN’ FOR A RAINBOW by the Marshall Tucker Band playing in Dean’s bar (see above):

I rode into town today In my mind, I said 'Lord I'd like to stay' Something in me said boy, move on Don't know what it is the good lord bred it in my bones

And I'm searchin for a rainbow, and if the wind ever shows me where to go, you'd be waiting at the end and I know, I'd see the hill with that pot of gold.

This old mount I'm ridin', she's gettin' kinda' tired But in my heart she knows there's this one desire She's gonna' take me to the end of our road

One of my favourites: the Daphne Loves Fred carved on the bar counter!! Fred, who represented Dean’s healthy masculinity -- was loved by Daphne, the dual counterpart of Dean’s non-repression: the side of him that adores wearing pink nightgown dresses, pink satin panties, vegetable water, romcoms and romance novels...the side of him that adores and embodies everything defined as “feminine” within a heternormative patriarchy. Reiterating past meta, Daphne also symbolized the traditional poster woman he should be attracted to, but never truly obtains for himself. Why? Because his true desires break tradition, and Dean’s subconscious knows this. They break his harrowing past of repression and psychological toxicity. They throw away what John Winchester wanted for him. x

 And in this--

FB = Winchester “Family Business” = Jensen’s Family Business Beer Co, with FOX RYE and (phallic-shaped) COSMIC COWBOY as FBBC drinks (and the latter evoking 13x06 Space Cowboy and Cowboy!Cas. This episode, guys. WOW.) 

Moving onto Michael’s subtextually telling construct of Pamela Barnes --

x

Mind!Pamela, well, she blew MY mind! @thetwistedwillow already describes amazing crucial points here. And let me provide commentary on the riveting and pertinent subtextual D/C double whammy of their office scene together:

DEAN: How come you always have a boyfriend?

PAMELA: How come you only want what you can’t have? You don’t want me -- you just like to flirt. Besides, I’m a psychic, so I kinda know.

DEAN: All right.

Mind!Pamela asking Dean why he only wants what he can’t have, linked to Pamela having a boyfriend, establishes romantic connotations. Pamela was D/C exposition.

There’s truth in jokes. Pamela's lines to Dean could be construed as genuine interest, but Yockey actually shot that down via Pamela confirming that the flirting is just for fun, with Dean not actually wanting her, and it nudges at the Destiel context. To me, if you move this outside the D/C context, it would make no sense, because the real Pamela did kiss Dean. They had a passing attraction to each other. Why not have them kiss again, then? Well, Pamela encapsulated both Dean’s subconscious psyche and Michael’s mouthpiece. And by Freudian design, both Dean and Michael know who he truly wants. 

Cas is once again ensconced in the negative spaces.

Keeping in mind that Michael has seen Dean’s memories and feelings via possessing him, Michael’s construct of Pamela in the bar setting was, in certain respects, his unsaid Empty-parallel statement: “I know who you love - what you fear.”

Dean wants what he can’t have. He still thinks he doesn’t deserve Cas, and indeed, in his heart of hearts - in the deepest crevices of his being - Michael knows (like most Expositional Eldritch Villains do e.g. S11 Amara) who he loves and what he fears (manipulating Dean’s fears into snake-tongued attacks on Sam and Cas; those statements aren’t true, but human beings are contradictory, and Dean thinking such things about them long ago can still plant self-doubt today, but TFW are strong, and it’s all about conquering negative self-process to come out on the other side unscathed. I mean oh boy, we thought Lucifer was the prime expert on manipulation. Michael’s just as bad as his brother, if not worse.)

Dean is in love with the angel “who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” (spot-on impersonation by Jensen) and Michael knowing the exact words then punches me in the feels because it’s a profound line...the iconic line verbalized by Cas to Dean in 4x10 Lazarus Rising that offset their love story later on. It’s the prime beginning.

x

To me, Michael hereby implies that he saw Dean’s memory of the first time he set his eyes upon Cas, and that it’s a highly valued memory which caused Michael to taunt it in the first place.

Like others have already pointed out as well, Dean’s memory of Pamela shows True!Form Cas blinding her in 4x01, and that certain memory, on an intriguing note, successfully breaks Dean out of the dream construct.

Since I don’t want to subject my readers to longer rambling, more of my meta on Pamela Barnes, Destiel, and the 13x06 Tombstone M/F Destiel-coded cowboy cutouts in Dean’s Mind Bar can be found here (with some repeated points that you’ve read throughout this post): http://naruhearts.tumblr.com/post/182144879031/14x10-destiel-cowboys-and-pamela-barnes

- - - - 

TL;DR sign me up for the necessary pain!! All the TFW storytelling threads of the last few seasons consistently pushing SPN’s primary themes of Family, Unity, Love and…Love, New Beginnings, Self-Actualization and, of course, mental/emotional CATHARSIS from the old toxic past, will come together. 

On another Destiel-adjacent note: Dean and Cas, their narratives running parallel to each other like they always have (especially since S12), are making the toughest, selfless, and sacrificial choices to save their loved ones (via Michael and Empty) and achieve the greatest win of all: living, hoping, and trusting interdependently.

And then Sam -- additionally making an impossible non-toxic codependent decision that I definitely believe is him giving Dean the go-ahead for self-imprisonment -- will encounter John in Endverse-adjacent AU!AU. *rubs hands together* CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AHEAD.

DEAN’S CAGE/SARCOPHAGUS, 14x11 PROMO, AND FREE WILL

(Screenshot by me from my TV lol)

Obviously we saw very little of 14x11. But I saw enough to flail over it!! 

Dean built a coffin - a sarcophagus for himself. A Pandora’s Box, as coined by @thetwistedwillow who also screamed with me in terms of the heartbreaking circular narrative of Dean’s S14 ‘burial’: simultaneously punishing himself and protecting the world from his failures --> the dual subtext of Dean’s return to ashes that naturally leads to resurrection. Lazarus Rising to Lazarus Dying. 

x

Aka Dean imprisoning himself via isolation on his own free will and ultimately subverting Michael’s efforts to imprison Dean via coercion and possession.

I can’t even believe the sheer metaphorical symbolism of this!! CLOSET!BOX. Seriously. Again, years of Dean meta (and queer Dean meta) roped together in an angsty paradoxical basket by Yockey and co.

For Dean to emancipate himself—and save his loved ones + the world—he’s gotta imprison himself with the current source of his trauma (Michael) as well as deconstruct and deal with all the other remaining trauma he bottled up. Lazarus will rise again.

As Billie says, every single one of Dean’s endgame deaths were rewritten (this textualized TFW as the harbingers of their own destiny, where Dean himself “broke enough rules” to get his endgames rewritten!! I can’t tell you enough how gorgeous that is.), and they all end the same way, with Michael breaking free and using Dean to burn the world to the ground...EXCEPT FOR ONE.

(I had to) x

x

Guys, I’m burning with curiosity!! What endgame did Dean see? Utter shock was written across his face -- an intense disbelief and surprised demeanor, topped off with what seemed like tears in his eyes -- that gave me pause. 

DEAN: What am I supposed to do with this?

BILLIE: That’s up to you.

That’s up to you --> Anubis said: Death, the reapers, and even God have no say. All the rules? All the cosmic constraints? They’re just useless in itself. They pass away. There are no rules. TFW “broke the rules” over and over and over again because they can.

A person’s choices in life dictate their fate.

“It’s about the journey, not the destination.”

In 4x03 In The Beginning (this title, y’all - authors and stories!!), no matter what Dean did to try and kill Azazel so that the subsequent murders of Mary’s parents, John, and the penultimate deal to resurrect John at poor Sammy’s expense are avoided, Dean realized that he could not alter Mary’s choices. Azazel still ended up poisoning Sam with demon blood. He couldn't influence her endgame because she wrote it herself in conjunction with external parties Cupid and Heaven (huh, forced free will paradox). At the same time, Mary’s journey invokes the key subverted difference of the Dean/Cas vs Mary/John parallel narrative which is fundamentally important to remember -- Free Will vs Destiny. Chosen Love vs Fated Love. Mary freely operated on fate’s influence, while Dean and Cas’ first meeting proliferated into a love story no one has ever foreseen, where they both defied subservient expectations and destiny fulfillment. 

From the first point of contact, Dean and Cas seared their influence upon the other in the form of a profound brand. 

x

Dean and Cas can make their own choices -- and have done so -- outside of predetermined plans for them. Dean and Cas’ love in itself blossomed out of free choice. Through rough seas, high tides, bright beaches, and hellfire, their love proved impervious. It was impervious to Heaven, Hell, reapers, and any supernatural force we’ve observed that tried to split them apart over the course of the show.

Attempting to constrain (Love and...) love, the greatest and most powerful force in the universe, is impossible.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics: chaos in the universe, which is the ultimate isolated system, only increases and never decreases.

Cosmic constraints all boil down to, well, nothing. We write our own fates. Michael failed to understand this concept. Destiel/TFW weren’t “defying” rules but acting as human beings with inherent agency the whole time. They are the authors and actors of their lives. Heaven/Hell despised humanity’s free will, when God’s miracle was truly his “mistake”: his draft worlds and giving humans free will. The flawed drafts = the universe becoming increasingly more chaotic.

It’s futile to enforce constraints, labels, and norms. Dean is absolutely narratively framed as the prime Death. The death one encounters depends on one’s choices.

In sum, Dean must LET IT GO. Do what you want to do, not what you need to do, though they go hand-in-hand. Drawing upon the last few seasons pertaining to baptism of the Self and interpersonal relationships, this includes communication, transparency, and quality time together.

x

As I’ve said here regarding 14x07 and Jack’s mirror role: 

We had these wonderfully poignant moments pushing back Dean’s performance: exposing the core of his heart wrapped up in the walls of trauma, guilt, and crippled self-process. Dean sees his Free Self, who is waiting…encouraging him to let go and live life to the fullest.

His Free Self is starting to break the water’s surface — has been doing so this entire cathartic S14 narrative of looking in the mirror (actively hammered down in 14x04/5/6).

Dean’s realizing that yes, life may not be all these big, amazing moments. There’s numerous valleys of pain, horror and death. But there’s also numerous rivers of optimism and joy (hello to the river they visited in this episode. It pretty much re-consolidated SPN’s Rebirth/New Beginning themes carrying over from S12: a baptism of the self and interpersonal relations). Family and friendship. Faith and love. He simply needs to cast his line, catch the fish Cas, and pull it out of water for good aka make the dreams, wants, and desires reality.

As @thetwistedwillow pointed out, Dean’s initial offer to head out to a potential hookup bar was a foil for Jack the Non-Performative mirror of Dean: the wingman move winking at the old (DYING) remnants of his John-polished performativity and calling back to Dean bringing newly minted Cas to the brothel in Free to Be You and Me, in that the night took an unexpectedly not-salacious but sentimental turn. That night, Dean hasn’t laughed so hard in years, even with his own brother.

8 years later, Jack knew what Dean’s heart truly wanted. He felt it. Jack rejected the hookup offer precisely because — just last episode — he perceived Dean’s natural tune. It was casual sex, shacking up, and adios (yes postmodernmulticolouredcloak) no longer. It was romance and courting before dating, which involved emotional exploration and ding ding ding, spending time together (also both on the familial and romantic levels -> BEING THERE with Dean: the key gesture conveying that he deeply matters to you, and you matter to him). Jack wanted the same thing, too.

It all comes full circle. Free to be you and me indeed, since Dean’s almost free of John’s ghost, as a father, brother, and husband. We’ll be here to witness his complete emancipation.

14x10 textualized Free Will and the neverending stories of neverending stories of neverending stories: we can do what we want by formulating our own rules, and each individual has a moral compass influenced by their differing experiences.

Whatever Dean’s seen -- we don’t know what he saw, and we may not EVER know, and it’s literally pure conjecture at this point, but for the sake of meta speculation...legitimate HAPPINESS? His dream bar epitomized in real life but even better, where the realism of it involves not having to sell out ANYTHING nor sell out HIMSELF? Retirement? Dying from old age? Marrying Cas? The ACTUAL beach, toes in the sand, umbrella drinks, with matching Hawaiian shirts? General BAD things leading to good things? Yes, this is Supernatural, and as Cas put it in 14x09: no one can experience permanent happiness in The Life™ , but recall subversion. Death preceding Life - the natural cycle - persists. Dabb & Co have created an SPN narrative plethora of New Beginning cyclism for a while now, so of course I have no doubt that a positive endgame is in the cards -- whatever Dean’s read has stimulated Dean’s motives to build his sarcophagus. He thinks he has an idea of what to do to get to this endgame or (what I expect/hope is) Happy Death?

Heck, in the 14x10 context of Author God, writing drafts, and reaper books -- what if his ending is: 

TA-DA!

It’s up to Dean to write his own ending. He has a blank slate as Author of his life.

The possibility of this blank slate ending as a win at first glance seems to entail the worst kind of choice -- since we all know repressing your trauma and emotions aka locking yourself up breeds maladaptive unhealthiness in the long run -- but it’s an absolutely necessary choice. The final countdown before self-actualization.

I kept saying it last season and I’ll say it again --

Dean Depressed Winchester must “die” so that Dean Self-Actualized Winchester can live. Dean building Pandora’s Box - CLOSET!BOX - for himself is LITERALLY an amalgamation of ‘Deal with your Trauma & Self’.

He should open the closet of happiness, embody self-acceptance, and go after what makes him happy -- what makes him psychologically wholesome, for Cas himself, Dean’s narrative half, tells the truth of his root fears: 

x

Dean does deserve to be saved. He deserves happiness in all of its variant forms -- the eclectic rainbow of beach vacations, retirement, Rocky’s Bar, finding romantic love -- and he must try to believe it himself. His closet!box is the catalytic literal/metaphorical object for this chief realization. 

And to emphasize how important the burial is regarding Dean’s psychological progression, ta-da, my 13x20 Dean meta still applies today, primary themes carried over into S14 by Dabb & Co:

And what are Dean’s WINS (plural) by dying? Saving people instead of losing people–saving Mary, Jack, Sam, and Cas. Saving the world. Reuniting his family unit. Interacting instead of performing. OUTING INSTEAD OF HIDING. HIGH DEPRESSIONLESS SELF-WORTH INSTEAD OF LOW DEPRESSIVE SELF-WORTH.

Better yet, Dean will undergo character development in relation to his loved ones (and Cas). With high self-worth, Dean’s capable of learning how to value HIMSELF independently. In turn, without personal obstacles he’ll learn how to sustain HEALTHY interdependent relationships and COMMUNICATION as well as learn how to WHOLLY GIVE HIMSELF to others (Cas).

Tell Cas he’s not expendable, Dean. Disclose the real reason YOU “needed him back”. Expose your feelings, choose Want over Need, and push away your rejection fears! Cas loves you dearly—let him know that his love for you is reciprocated. Nothing but good things ahead!!

And that’s the mystery of life: to live is to die. To die is to live. By “dying”, Dean saves his loved ones. He saves the world. He saves Cas, his romance-coded (sub)textual lover, Jack his son, and Sam his brother -- his family.

He saves himself. 

His mind, his rules.

And Dean doesn’t know FOR SURE if this burial choice will lead to a win -- neither do we know if he’ll go through with it until 14x11 airs -- but that’s AGENCY, my friends. It’s the meat of particular Time Travel Is Bad tropes: if we know our ending, life loses meaning. The choices we make to get there loses value. Humanity loses unpredictability. Ergo the journey through life - the POINT of living - is about executing choices and taking chances.

"If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do." - Camus, Absurdism 

The biggest reminder governing my SPN viewing as it had last season:

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Fragments of a Fractured Mind Ch3

Benjamin Poindexter x OC

Wordcount 1.7k| No warnings

AN: As I load more of these chapters up I will make a Masterlist to link this story and all of my one-shots I’ll post so readers can find them in one place.

Dex had never tried a quinoa power bowl before, but he had to admit he could see the appeal. It was a healthy choice, if not cliche and trendy. The food fit the atmosphere of the restaurant; low maintenance decor in dim lighting. He'd counted at least three people in faded jeans and Ugg boots. If it was summer he expected they'd be switched out for capris and Birkenstocks.

Zoe had been silent on the way there after giving him the directions. Occasionally he would survey her through his peripheral vision, the passing streetlights casting a warm glow over her as she faced the window. He had not been able to get an inkling over what she was thinking.

Now as they sat at the restaurant in one of the stiff faux leather booths, she had returned to her usual chipper self. Dex felt he was reverting back to form as well, a bad case of the jitters starting when he couldn't seem to keep his right leg still.

"So a fair trade then, a ride for food," Zoe said as she stirred her straw around in her iced tea. Their empty bowls sat in the center of the table, pushed together by happenstance.

"I guess, yeah."

"Hey, but the transaction's not complete yet. You still have to take me home." She leaned back in her seat, peering at him through her thick lenses. "I wouldn't mind talking some more first. I don't really know much about you."

"Why did you transfer here?" Dex asked, and she looked surprised by his sudden forwardness. He only jumped at the opportunity because he didn't want her to ask him something first.

"Well, it wasn't actually my first choice to come here. I needed out of my old job in New Jersey, and this branch had an opening. No one was clambering for a spot in Hell's Kitchen it seemed."

"No shit. What was so bad in New Jersey that you came here?"

"I worked in the Behavioural Analysis Unit," She said.

It wasn't difficult to put the rest together, but Dex couldn't imagine why she had chosen to work in the investigation of violent crime. She was too... delicate.

"I think I was still under the delusion that I could be the next John Douglas or something like that, but it didn't take me long to figure out that I couldn't cut it in that line of work. So I looked for an out, and I took it."

"Too bad you got saddled with us," said Dex.

Zoe chuckled. "Oh no, you guys are alright, except for maybe Hattley. Or maybe it's me. My last boss seemed glad to be rid of me too."

"It's because you're hard to lead." That had slipped out without him meaning for it to. Zoe didn't appear to appreciate the criticism.

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, well." Her hard stare rattled him, and he looked down at his hands in his lap, clenched so tight they were white at the knuckles. "On missions, you can be reckless."

"And you can be excessive," she countered. Dex turned a hard look of indignation on her but she didn't falter. "I'm sorry, did I say something you didn't want to hear."

"Right," he sighed. "Let's just drop that then."

She nodded, running a hand through her hair. "That's a good idea. I was having a good time until just now."

Dex found that hard to believe. He was terrible company to be in and he had managed to block her attempts at getting to know him at every turn.

"What about your family, are they here in Hell's Kitchen too?"

The family was always a good topic to bring up, as he had discovered with other work colleagues. Usually, they couldn't stop bullshitting the details about their loved ones, and that kept him from having to say anything.

"Oh God no. My parents are still down in Jersey, and my brother lives in Memphis. None of them were exactly thrilled at my move to the city, but they knew I was miserable in my work." She paused a moment, and he watched as her hand glided down her glass, her fingers collecting tiny droplets of condensation. "What about your family?"

Dammit, she hadn't stewed in that topic as long as he had anticipated. He swallowed, and his right leg ceased its incessant tapping. "No siblings and my parents are gone."

Here came the part he hated. A flash of sympathy and pity in the eyes. She reached her hand out across the table, forgetting that both of his were out of reach beneath it. "I'm sorry I brought it up. That must be awful."

"It's hard, very hard," he said, his eyes unblinking.

She retracted her hand, and something he couldn't understand flitted across her face. "I'm sure it is."

Was it doubt? She didn't seem to take his answer as sincere. Dr. Mercer never instructed him on what to do if that happened. He felt like he was drowning, and Zoe was the lifeboat pulling away from him.

"I think that's enough for tonight. You still have to drive back to your place after dropping me off, and it's getting late," She said, already stepping out of the booth to slide into her jacket.

No, it wasn't, it was only eight thirty.

Just a moment ago he would have been glad to be wrapping up the evening. It would have been on his terms, but now that Zoe was in such a rush, he was angry. It felt like she was bailing on him. Sometimes his own thoughts were exhausting, and he tried his best to shove them down.

The walk back to the car was spent with them having no eye contact. Dex slammed his car door with a little more force than was needed while Zoe's made the smallest clink shut. Once she had her seat belt on, she leaned forward and imputed her address into the GPS for him to follow.

Aside from listening to the computer's voice on which turns to make, Dex was finding it difficult to focus. He never realized how different it was to associate with a work colleague outside of work. He could talk to another agent well enough when it was about a mission, but he'd never been faced with social interaction, at least not since his time served in the military. Wade Wilson had been as close as he'd come to having a friend, but only because he was so obnoxious that he could do the talking for both of them.

Friendship, was that what Zoe's aim had been? If so, she had failed miserably. Or maybe he was the failure, he wasn't certain. Dr. Mercer had said he needed a North Star, but he already had Julie. He saw little point in keeping Zoe around.

When he pulled up to her apartment building, the street was quiet. She lived around the corner from Little Italy, a part of the city that was made up of older residents. That explained most of the lights being out at this hour. The streets had been plowed of snow, making it easy to pull right up to the curb.

Dex thought she would have moved like lightning to get out of his car and to the safety of her building. He watched her closely, but she remained still except to turn her head to face him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"For what," Dex replied with a frown.

"I was annoying, before at the restaurant. I can talk about myself and unload all of my past on a person, so I just assume it's the same for everyone. You're not like that. You didn't want to let me get to know you, and that's fine. I just... I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you said that," He pointed out. "That's too many sorries for one thing. It's fine, but you're right about me. I don't like to let people know me, and that means everyone, not just you."

"Glad to know it's not exclusive," She said, a playful smile gathering on her face. "Doesn't mean we can't be friends though. I don't need to know everything about you to know you're someone I trust."

Dex was glad it was dark in the car because he could feel a flush creeping up his neck to his ears.

"I trust you too." He said, clearing his throat. It was hard to relinquish the stoic demeanor he had built up, but he owed Zoe that much after putting her through an awkward evening.

"Good, that means I'll have your back with Hattley. Special Agent Poindexter, the best team player I know."

Dex rolled his eyes. "And I'm meant to promise the same?"

"You catch on quick, Dex. I knew you were trustworthy. Don't be afraid to sing my praises when she's within earshot." She reached into her purse, taking out a pad and a pen to jot down a short line. "Here," she said, sticking it to his dashboard. It was her number. "Proper friends should keep in touch."

"Thanks. I'll get back to you with mine," He promised.

That final exchange signaled the end of their night. It was a good note to leave on. Zoe unclipped her seat belt and adjusted her scarf before reaching for the door handle. "Well, good night Dex. I'm glad I haven't scared you off yet."

He watched her go around the car and into the nook of the front door before disappearing inside.

"Likewise," he said aloud to himself while peeling the post-it note from his dash.

For a brief moment, he thought about crumpling the paper and throwing it away. It would have been the easy choice, but something stopped him. Zoe wasn't a selfless, kind person willing to save everyone. Not like Julie was. She couldn't possess those qualities while working for the bureau, yet she had a spirit that was fierce and determined, perhaps to make up for the job she had failed at in New Jersey. He still didn't know what she could be to him. Not a North Star. Maybe he just needed her nearby.

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Deadpool 2 (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review the weekend after the movie is released in the U.K. So if you haven’t yet seen the movie don’t read on.

General Reaction:

Pop culture references, or "Meta-Referencing" as it's called in some circles, has become such à staple in both movies and television that it is hard to know who originated it. But in terms of who owns it, that largely is Fox as their animated TV shows, such as Family Guy and American Dad, are built around it. However, Deadpool as a character is a meta-referencing construct. Spouting pop culture satire is what he has been known for since his creation, being the "Merc with the Mouth" and fans may worry that if he didn't have that, would he be a quality character.

Well if Deadpool 2 is anything to go by, I'd say that's a yes. Yes there are still meta-references spread throughout this movie, but the movie doesn't rely on them and instead becomes a fully-rounded comic-book action movie. In my opinion more so than the first Deadpool movie and even Avengers: Infinity War in terms of story.

Yes the plot is pretty much ripping off Terminator but it does Terminator how you would expect Deadpool to do Terminator. Not only does it satirically play homage to that movie but also the amount of pot shots it takes both at the MCU and DCEU is fantastic.

My two critiques with the meta-referencing in this movie is 1) There is a joke made about child molesting early on in this movie that hinders on that line of very poor taste and 2) They missed some very obvious chances to make fun of some of the movie's cast that they had no reason to miss. When your main character wears a mask covering his mouth, then the writers and director have no excuses when watching this movie in post and saying "Hey we missed an obvious Billy Skarsgård as Pennywise joke and a joke about Orange is the New Black, Black Panther and Wonder Woman, no worries we can have Ryan Reynolds dub over" but alas there is nothing.

As a fully rounded movie however, there is one thing I never expected to see in a Deadpool movie and that is a genuinely emotional scene, in this case Vanessa's death, yes the first movie had Wade discovering he had cancer, but with this scene there were one or two moments I felt would be used to turn the scene satirical, both with the microwave pinging and Wade's emotional reaction but surprisingly they just kept to the reaction...it was somewhat watered down at the end when Wade went back in time and saved her but I'll get into that when I talk about Vanessa further down.

Cast:

On the subject of characters, much like the first movie this cast proves to be a great support in a movie that is solely the Ryan Reynolds/Deadpool show, unlike the first movie though this cast do just seem to be supporting players.

Ryan Reynolds was born to play Deadpool just as Hugh Jackman was born to play Wolverine and Krysten Ritter was born to play Jessica Jones. What he does with this character is nothing short of magic. I cannot describe just how much I love this actor in this role, this is coming from a guy who has never been a Ryan Reynolds fan...at all.

I love the fact they finally embraced Pansexual Deadpool as he was clearly in a committed relationship with Vanessa but he did have some flirtatious banter with Colossus and even Cable, I mean he used his crotch in Cable’s face as an offensive attack.

Reynolds’ physical comedy is upped in this movie, not only does he have that brilliant crouched over through the legs on a moving car bit that I found quite funny but also the that prison break scene when Wade falls from the walkway smack onto a table with his body effectively bent over was really gross and really cool. I haven’t seen physical comedy this funny since Jim Carrey in the 90s; think Ace Ventura or The Mask, even The Grinch, that is what I was reminded of watching Ryan Reynolds in this movie.

As I said, everyone else was effectively a supporting player but the next two with the biggest roles were Josh Brolin as Cable and Julian Dennison as Russell Collins aka Firefist. What is interesting about both these characters is I have only ever seen them in the 90s X-Men animated series. Cable was a recurring player in all four seasons while Russell was named Rusty and only appeared in one episode during Season 3.

Josh Brolin as Cable was surprisingly very good and the fact he is still appearing as Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War was not a distraction because both characters are very different and with the CGI on Brolin for Thanos, there is a definite distinction between the two.

They definitely didn’t spend enough time establishing Cable as a character in his own right, outside of the fact his wife and daughter Hope were killed by an adult Russell which is why he traveled back in time there was no real character development. There was a minor scene when Cable is looking in the mirror at his body and it does seem he’s pained over the fact the techno-organic virus that is never mentioned is trying to take over his body but other than that there is really nothing defining other than the fact he was a formidable threat.

The fact he chose to stay at the end of the movie wasn’t exactly a shocker because Deadpool 2 was a back-door pilot in setting up X-Force, even though he saw that his family were alive because his daughter Hope’s teddy bear that he carries with him which was burned but then looked like new when they fixed the timeline which was a stereotypical time-travel trope but a good one, he decides to stick around for no real reason. When Wade says a line earlier in the movie saying “That’s just bad writing” I was thinking Cable’s ending was more sloppy.

As for Russell Collins aka Firefist, I really didn’t get on board with this character. Yes he was the troubled youth that had trauma in his past and being a Mutant in this universe is never good for anyone of any age, but he was just angry. Yes he had one or two funny lines but most of the time his motivation as a character did not seem genuine. In fact, Russell here reminded me of Jamie Foxx as Electro in The Amazing Spider-Man 2, a character needing to be needed.

Whereas Domino I felt I did not get enough of, genuinely mostly everything we have seen of the character in this movie was in the trailers. She had one or two more good lines particularly with the truck chase but outside of that I was left underwhelmed as a fan of Domino’s because I wanted her to be a scene-stealer similar to Black Widow, Deadpool even calls her “Black Black Widow”.

Colossus again proves to be quite a comedic and competent character despite his earlier appearances in the original X-Men trilogy. The only issue is, we never see him outside of being metallic and yet again Deadpool makes the joke about the studio not being able to afford more X-Men than Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead.

Although there is a fantastic cameo from the X-Men: Apocalypse X-Men team while Deadpool is making this budget speech as the shot cuts to a profile shot of Wade showing a classroom with that team played by those actors in. In the room there is Beast, Quicksilver, Nightcrawler, Storm, Cyclops and bald Professor X all of whom were played by the same actors who portrayed them in X-Men: Apocalypse. It was interesting to see that neither Sophie Turner nor Jennifer Lawrence made an appearance as Jean Grey and Mystique respectively but literally the show was a blink and you will miss it type of shot.

Circling back to Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and I’m going to call her Ellie because it’s easier and that’s her civilian name, again like Domino most of what we’ve seen from her we saw in the trailers but what was confirmed in this movie was her LGBT status.

Now it is not confirmed if she is bisexual or a lesbian but she is in a relationship with Yukio, who I think is supposed to be Surge from the comics but her name is Noriko not Yukio and Yukio is in fact from The Wolverine portrayed by Rila Fukishima in which case I am frustrated with this character because I loved what Rila did with it. Regardless, I applaud this movie because I have recently written up a Research Project for my university course about the lack of LGBT representation in Marvel and this movie gave me hope that maybe they are turning a corner, both with the teenage lesbian lovers and Deadpool’s pansexuality.

I did have the opportunity to meet Brianna Hildebrand at Comic-Con in March but opted out in favour of Yondu but I continue to be happy with her role in these movies.

Then X-Force as a team, the biggest tease I have seen for quite some time, I haven’t seen such a tease lacking followup since The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and the promise of the Sinister Six. Almost every trailer in this movie promoted the X-Force team starting in this movie but what the trailers failed to say was that they’d be seen for a grand total of five minutes and then literally be killed off save for Deadpool and Domino.

When you have the likes of Terry Crewes and Bill Skarsgård in the movie, particularly with Billy coming off of such a success with It, yet barely have them speak and don���t really have any screen-time or development before killing them off just to say “We’ve had X-Force” it’s a waste. I mean I get only having Lewis Tan for a glorified cameo as he is more of a stuntman and he was playing a character that would have been all stunts mainly but again it was such a wasted opportunity.

Although the one thing the team did right was give us a bigger shock cameo than Matt Damon in Thor: Ragnarok and I am talking Brad Pitt as Vanisher. Now for most of the time Vanisher was invisible however when he fell down onto the power-lines and got electrocuted to reveal himself as Brad Pitt, the audience I saw this movie gave the biggest reaction all movie. It was such a surprise and such a non-commitment type of role that Pitt didn’t have to do it but either did 20th Century Fox a favour or Ryan Reynolds a favour, either way it actually made me respect him more.

Outside of that brief cameo, the biggest shock for me was the reveal of Juggernaut. I was actually very surprised to see him in this movie. When they “foreshadowed” the character, I genuinely did not know who it was going to be but the fact it was Juggernaut and looking more like Juggernaut than Vinnie Jones did I was loving it. Although I wasn’t so keen on the fact that Ryan Reynolds provided the voice, again Vinnie Jones was great vocally and physically in the role it was just how they styled him I had a problem with. Also the fact he was defeated by essentially having an electric enema was a little bit in poor taste, again there’s a line and Deadpool both as a character and a franchise dance very finely on it.

Then as for Vanessa, I really like Morena Baccarin as an actress but currently I am not entirely sure she knows what role she wants to commit to. Yes she is a mainstay on Gotham and has been fantastic on that all season and it is clear she was not in the first few episodes because of filming this, but then there is the fact she is back voicing Gideon on The Flash which is a minor voice-over role and then there was this but it is such a watered down version of the character from the comics to the point where she was never revealed as a mutant or had her appearance from the comics. Although interestingly enough the character did first appear in the comics as Domino before revealing herself properly.

The end-credits scene which saw Ellie fix Cable’s time-travelling device and stupidly giving it to Deadpool allowed him to go back and save Vanessa, meaning she’s not dead, which if you follow time-travel lore means the events of this movie should not have happened but even so I digress.

Deadpool’s Future:

My final thoughts are on the future of Deadpool in terms of movies because of course there is a pending merger that could threaten that.

I do think that when you consider the fact Fox is in the midst of having it’s movie and television properties going over to Disney, one has to consider if Deadpool and the X-Men have a future. Yes Kevin Feige is going to want to capitalize on Deadpool’s box office to add to his own gross and they have confirmed that Deadpool will stay R-Rated. but the meta-referencing to the MCU may have to be taken out if the character becomes part of the MCU and also if Ryan Reynolds does not continue to have control over the character as he does now then we lose something special.

Now they have said that Deadpool 3 will in fact be an X-Force movie and it is already in negotiations, however I do not believe that any development in terms of script, casting or filming will take place until this merger is confirmed. While I think Deadpool is meta enough to be the only surviving character from Fox in this merger, I do think making the movie as Fox but then either part way through or even at the point of premiere becoming a Disney property would mess up what is currently one of the best comic-book movie franchises out there.

Overall I rate this movie a 9/10, it’s not the best movie I have ever seen however both as the type of comic-book movie it promised and the type of character actor Ryan Reynolds is it is a perfect movie. It just isn’t higher because I do not feel the immediate urge of a rewatchability factor.

So that’s my review of Deadpool 2, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Marvel Movie Reviews as well as other Movie Reviews and posts.

[killypool-archived]

canon;; pre-dp, dp, dp2, post dp2

QUICK STATS:: status: open to anyone for plotting, starters, ask memes age: birth (technically) 39 - 42+ location: varies

for anyone not familiar with the deadpool movies, this is a synopsis of the events of the two movies if you are unable to / have no interest in watching the movies. this information is also available on wikipedia and the following information is only my rewording of the events. god this got so much longer than expected. under a read more for length. if anyone wants a TLDR of the two movies, i might be able to not write 10000 words on that.

pre dp  /  dp

following a dishonorable discharge from the military after 14 years of service ( 10 as a green beret special forces sniper ) wade adopted the mercenary lifestyle. he lived alone in a shabby apartment in new york city, the only person he could consider a friend the bartender at sister margaret’s home for wayward girls - the bar full of mercenaries and low lives. after his latest ‘hit’ - threatening a teenager to stop stalking another teenager, a hit he did for free and without injuring the stalker - he met vanessa - a sex worker who had wade falling head over heels. after a lovely first date at an arcade, wade and vanessa begin a whirlwind romance over the course of the year (january - december). 

in december, wade proposes to vanessa. a voice over reveals this was just a temporary commercial break of happiness from the trainwreck his life normally is - and would continue to be. immediately following his proposal, wade passes out in their bedroom. a trip to the doctor reveals that wade has stage 4 cancer - starting in his liver, the cancer has already spread to his prostate, lungs, and brain. vanessa urges him to seek treatment, and wade and vanessa embark on a ‘cancer world tour’. upon this tour, wade discovered doctors scamming patients, claiming to remove the tumors without surgery by using sleight of hand and animal organs. enraged, wade attacks and murders the crook in broad daylight. it’s then he understands that he’s snapped. he’s gone too far, and treatment alone won’t make him the wade vanessa still needs.

he’s offered one last opportunity. a creepy man in a suit sells him promises of superpowers. unable to make vanessa suffer through his last moments, wade agrees and goes to the workshop. it’s there he’s tortured for weeks. he’s injected with a mutant gene, but it’s suffering and the need to survive that will activate it. weeks are spent in icy cold water, lashes, drowning, fire. but still wade’s snark remains. making an enemy of the man torturing him - ajax (francis) - wade is forced into an air deprevation chamber that suffocates him, keeping him just on the brink of death. it’s now that he finally mutates. but it comes at a price. 

his body is now able to recover from everything. his cells are constantly regenerating, constantly healing. but his skin is scarred, his vocal chords scarred, his appearance so horrifying and disfiguring that wade can’t go outside without suffering debilitating panic attacks. attempts to talk to vanessa are met with panic. after reducing the workshop to ash, there’s nothing left for wade to do besides track down francis and find a cure for his appearance. 

a year is spent tracking francis down - bringing this organization that trafficks mutants as government weapons to its knees in the process. but wade is not a superhero. adopting the name deadpool and creating a suit to hide his ghastly appearance, wade’s attempts to kill francis are thrwarted by colossus and negasonic teenage warhead - an x-man and x-man trainee sent to stop his rampage. he narrowly escapes, going home injured to his elderly blind (and former mafia) roommate, blind al. his plans to recover and strike once more are ruined with the news that francis knows where vanessa is. going to finally reveal himself to vanessa, insecurity pulls wade away from his once fiancee just long enough for francis to kidnap her. 

final battle ensues with wade asking colossus and negasonic for help. vanessa is rescued (though not completely without injury) and wade is allowed a final confrontation with francis. but francis laughs at his search for a cure for an appearance, unknowingly sentencing himself to death in the process. though colossus tries to stop wade from murdering francis, wade fires the gun after realizing that there’s no way to save his appearance. 

cue sappy face reveal with vanessa, who is able to embrace his scarred appearance and him, appearing thankful just to have him back.

dp 2  /  post dp 2

in the wake of going so long away from vanessa, wade atones for his mistakes by trying to be a hero. mercenary business in full swing, wade goes after mafia, gangs, high level crime syndicates in an attempt to make the world a safer place for the love of his life. he returns home after trying (and failing) to take out a particular bunch of baddies to see vanessa on their anniversary. it’s here vanessa announces his gift is the removal of her iud - birth control device. together once more, they can begin a family. 

it’s after a heart to heart about wade’s insecurities of ever being a good father (as a result of his own abusive father) that disaster strikes. seeking revenge, wade’s apartment is attacked and at the last second, a bullet meant for wade hits vanessa. fueled with rage, wade is the only survivor that night. 

the next months pass in a blur of alcohol and attempts at his own life, though no death is ever permanent. each time his heart stops beating, he’s able to see vanessa once more, unable to reach her. ‘your heart’s not in the right place,’ she tells him. with the riddle confusing an already broken wade, wade latches onto colossus once colossus brings him back to the mansion to rehabilitate him. after a confrontation with the lawful good man of literal steel, wade adapts to a homely life inside the mansion - embracing doing good. 

a confrontation with russell (firefist) changed that. reluctant to go out into the field, colossus brings wade on a mission to subdue an angry 14 year old setting fire to the orphanage he was held in - the essex home for mutant rehabilitation. using minimal violence, wade gets russell subdued enough to be handcuffed only to approach him. unlike everyone else seeing only an angry, violent, dangerous child, wade recognizes russell as a victim of abuse - burns from a cattle prod on his neck. unable to let a child abuser go free, wade withdraws his guns and immediately begins firing on the staff of the essex house. 

colossus, filled with rage and unwilling to listen to wade’s explanation, has wade arrested, a collar inhibiting his mutant abilities snapped around his neck. with this collar, he’s unable to heal and his cancer is able to grow uninhibited. the next few days pass painfully in the prison with russell as his cellmate. a heart to heart reveals that russell is completely alone in the world, no one to protect him, and he’s become jaded. he understands now that no one is going to save him - a thought reaffirmed when wade pushes him away. russell confuses wade pushing russell away because he doesn’t want russell to watch him die as wade’s rejection.

this only continues as a break in occurs in the prison. a man from the future - cable - comes with only one plan in mind - the murder of russell collins. wade is able to - during his fight with cable - escape the prison, though russell hears wade stating he ‘doesn’t give a shit about the kid’ and turns away from wade. russell takes wade’s earlier advice and befriends the scariest, largest guy in the icebox - the juggernaut. 

an attempt to rescue russell from a convoy moving him to a new facility is thwarted once more by cable, despite the team of heroes wade gathered for help (especially since all but one immediately died jumping out of a plane.) his attempt to save russell only pushes russell further into juggernaut’s arms and wade is left (literally) torn in half. domino, the sole survivor of the x force, takes him home to blind al to recover where cable decides to pay a visit.

rather than attacking wade once more, cable asks for help. he explains that he came to the present (his past) to kill russell because after russell kills the abusive headmaster, russell murders the entire orphanage and continues on to kill cable’s family. though wade sympathizes with cable, he’s unable to agree to the murder of a child and asks for a chance to set russell on the right path.

he tries once more to appeal to colossus, begging for help saving russell only for colossus to refuse him. angry, wade leaves the mansion and goes to save russell with only domino and cable at his side. giant fight scene proceeds, and colossus agrees to fight, assuring wade that he won’t give up on him and that wade shouldn’t give up on russell. more fight scene. a lot of death. many murder. 

finally, wade and cable are able to confront russell, pleading not to kill the headmaster. every attempt to steer russell straight fails, russell burning wade and throwing him back, telling him that ‘i can’t trust you. i can’t trust anyone.’ convinced that russell is unable to change, cable goes to shoot russell. in a last ditch effort, wade snaps the mutant collar around his neck and states ‘if you’re going to kill someone today, it’s gonna have to be me.’ and immediately proceeds to jump in front of the bullet cable fired.

once russell realizes what wade has done, he experiences a change of heart - the effects of this change evident as cable’s daughter’s teddy bear goes from burnt and blood stained to clean once more. fatally injured, unable to heal, and refusing to let the collar be taken off, wade is surrounded by friends and allies as he dies, giving his farewells and cracking jokes to keep spirits high and because he was afraid in his last moments no one would care if he died. while he finally passes and is able to greet vanessa in heaven, cable is torn with guilt and uses the last charge of his time sliding device to go back to just before the battle, slipping the skee ball token he stole from wade under wade’s katana straps, saving his life. 

going to leave the scene, dopinder is able to slide in and murder the headmaster, fulfilling his dream of becoming a killer in the last minute, and wade and his gang walk off into the sunset to pat benatar’s we belong. 

the end credits see negasonic teenage warhead fixing the time slide device, which wade proceeds to use. first to save vanessa, to save peter (a harmless middle age man who joined the x force for fun), to murder deadpool in the wolverine movie, to murder ryan reynolds before he was able to film green lantern - you’re welcome, canada, and finally, to murder baby hitler. 

all post dp2 threads will disregard the end credits scene. all post dp2 threads with a vanessa (or unless specifically requested) will have wade go back to save vanessa with the time slide device, but will follow the same plot of wade needing to save russell. only now, the x force doesn’t die and wade has a reason to live after. 

the end.

until the next movie.

[shiroe-is-my-baby]

Self-Insert Bio: Violet Howl - Marvel

(( This is a long, very detailed bio for my insert! It includes some timeline things that I finally have cleared up a bit, as well as relationships and some bio’s that are in the works that will clear up a lot of her origin story. As well as fics that will come later, and the chapter list for that will be here. ))

@self-shipping-angel, @shinsen-haruki

🐺 Name: Ashley Wolfe

Superhero Title: Violet Howl

🐺 Age: 24

🐺 Appearance: She’s rather short with an average build, with long and flowing purple hair. Bright blue eyes and a small frame that she uses to her advantage to be faster and underestimated in fights. The color of her hair stays the same, but only sometimes does she have her large claws and fangs. Her casual wear usually consists of styles that are less than exposing as her hero uniform (t-shirts, jeans, occasional dresses). But the less attire she has to shift the better.

🐺 Personality: She’s cunning and a kind-hearted spirit that cares about the world and those around her. Sometimes a bit too emotional, a part of herself that she had problems with in the past when it comes to controlling her powers. She’s smart and thoughtful, though sometimes can be a little sensitive and stubborn.

Has a habit of having a short fuse and quick to upset, and isn’t too fond of change. Her self-consciousness still haunts her in her present, and can sometimes lead to only fragments of her powers working at a time. She is loyal to her friends, and never turns down an opportunity to assist in every situation. Being that she’s still so young, there’s lots of room for improvement that she is constantly struggling to achieve.

🐺 Power: Werewolf/wolf shapeshifter

🐺 Backstory: Ashley grew up in a small town, with only her mother and a younger sister. The three of them didn’t have much, but they had enough to keep them fed and housed and clothed. There was always something more that she was seeking out of life, somewhat feeling inadequate that she couldn’t seem to help her family. Even when she got her first job, it was all to assist and save up money for others instead of herself.

She had just turned 16 when her powers started surfacing. It was a slow process and only seemed to happen when she was asleep since she had a habit of sleepwalking when she was growing up. At times she’d wake up in a park or a strange place in the middle of the night and have no recollection of how she got there. Sometimes she’d be barely clothed, sometime’s she’d have scars on her arms and legs, sometimes she’d be hungry and sometimes she’d be full. It was always a scary thing for her that she couldn’t quite understand.

When she was 18 she moved out on her own, leaving behind enough money saved up to help support her family for a while. But she knew that she had to leave. There was something not right about her, and she couldn’t risk her family getting involved in case things turned out bad. Still unsure of exactly what she had, there wasn’t any control on her powers quite yet.

Not until she met the right person to help her control her emotions, thus stabilizing her powers. They continue to grow stronger with every full moon. She’s still unsure if it will continue to grow or if it will stop.

🐺 Strange: Depending on the au, both meet stories are slightly different just in a sublevel context. Both aus haven’t been fleshed out entirely since the timeline is still being worked out, but a lot of it is pretty self-explanatory. In both timelines, Violet meets Stephen at first in her wolf form and then doesn’t meet him in her human form until a month later. Each meeting is inclined by her genuine curiosity of him.

Although, in the main timeline they knew each other beforehand, but not on the best of terms. Priya had been a patient of his after an altercation with another lycan (an oc to come). She was first exposed to him after the woman was unconscious for a small amount of time, the two of them not having a very good meeting. Unable to really stay by her side, she had to try to continue the fight without her. It was because of Stephen Strange that allowed her friend to heal quickly, although she was rather quick to escape from the hospital to help assist Violet in the problem at hand. More about that in another post later, and some more information down below. 

Stephen didn’t meet Ashley again until years later, after his enlightenment, in a café. The two of them hit it off rather well the second time around, and he had no idea that he had in fact met her again previously in her wolf form. A fact that she kept secret until they had been seeing each other for a couple of months down the line.

In my non iw au, the two of them still meet at a café, but in a different point in time and they have no previous affiliation with one another. Things still occur the same, except iw is completely stroked from the timeline in general. Giving them more time to be together, and this is the au where Quinten and Melanie exist in. 

🐺 Priya: She first becomes aware of Violet after a string of incidents that were beyond the young woman’s control. There had been plenty of large wolf sightings, but a lot of it was brushed under as being coincidental since no one had fully gotten substantial proof. One would call it mostly luck that she wasn’t caught, and given that Violet was old enough to somewhat stabilize her powers on any day that wasn’t a full moon.

She was mainly interested in finding another person like her, even though she was insistent on staying hidden. Going out of her way to seek out the wolf, she eventually found Violet after a trek in her lycan form and tracking the scent of another wolf. Bringing her into her hideout, she kept her restrained until Violet had shifted back into her human form later that morning.

It didn’t take a lot of convincing for Violet to put her trust in Priya, especially since she was the first person she had ever met that was just like her. It felt like a miracle to her, given that she had gone so many years feeling like a freak and an outsider for her powers. It was honestly a relief that she wouldn’t have to do this alone, and a couple months later the two were training together.

They became really good friends after spending years together, and Violet was soon able to control her powers enough to have more control over herself after shifting and while in wolf form, and also give her more time that she can spend in wolf form without becoming fatigued. Some more things that she was able to perfect is her morphing abilities in her hands and her ears, though still very limited was still possible. She was also able to control her emotions enough that spontaneous shifting would be very slim. Though, there were still accidents and she can still be very unstable if made too upset. Not to mention, there was still the risk of getting lost in her wolf form and possibly staying in that state for a long time.

They were just getting to a good place, her sleepwalking during a full moon almost becoming nonexistent, when they were introduced to another lycan much like Priya. Only he wasn’t like them. Though, he tried to make them believe that he wasn’t going to cause any harm. He would lead them into a battle that would shift their focus and bring them out of hiding long enough for the public and other eyes to become involved.

🐺 Tony: He found Violet after the two wolves came out of hiding to stop a lycan from harming real lives. He was made aware of this, and instead of bringing her in he was genuinely curious about her. The powers that she held looked extremely promising, and he wasn’t exactly sure what else compelled him to do so. It just felt like the best option, at the time, but it would mean so much more to them in the end.

It took a lot of separate altercations for her to finally sit down and talk to him, under the promise that it would be completely confidential. They met up at a discreet location and talked about her powers and what had happened that resulted in the lycan. She told him everything that she could, excluding key factors like Priya and their location and how long they’d been hiding.

For the next year and a half, Tony spent looking into her and coming back to discuss ideas in the hopes of luring her out. Still unsure of what exactly was compelling him, he felt like she had potential of being great. He also could tell that she was questioning it, though there was something holding her back.

That was when the dark place that she found herself in after the fight with the other lycan began to surface. And how the two of them slowly began their trusting and compassionate relationship. Slowly building until she trusted him enough to agree to become an avenger.

🐺 Relationships:

Lydia Wolfe - mother, more on her later in a separate bio

Ally Wolfe - younger sister, more in a separate bio

Tony Stark - father

Wade Wilson - friend

Scott Lang - friend

[theshapeshifter100]

Wolf and Raven Chapter 3

First

Previous

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Masterlist

---

The night went without incident, and the two shifters met up the next evening, as they were starting to fall into the habit of once the day was over.

“Were there any demons today?” Raven asked.

“None that I spotted,” Wolf paused to yawn. “My apologies, I snatched a few hours of sleep, but I did not sleep well.”

“No. I confess that I did not either,” Raven held onto the staff with both hands.

Wolf narrowed her eyes for a moment, looking Raven up and down. “Are you not cold?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you cold? You do not appear dressed for this climate.”

“I am fine, thank you Wolf.”

Wolf did not believe her, but instead merely nodded to herself. “Very well.”

“I spoke with Raven of Old after you left last night.”

Wolf nodded again slowly, unsure of the relevance.

“He had previously told me to be wary of you,” if Raven noticed the shift in Wolf’s face she did not comment. “And last night he told me why. You led a group of Nevar’s forces to a camp and destroyed it, and he insinuated that you had fed Nevar information on where to find your people.”

Wolf let out a long sigh. “That is what he told you?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Wolf found the branch above Raven’s head fascinating. “And what do you think?”

“I am uncertain. He told me that this was many years ago, and you have given me little reason to doubt you, but…”

“But now you are questioning my intentions.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I am grateful that you are so forthright with me, and I shall be forthright with you in return,” Wolf shifted her feet. “Raven, old Raven, does not know the full story. I was captured by Nevar and held for several months. He, among other things, took my Staff of Power from me and dragged information from me. Information that was given neither freely nor willingly.

“He then released me, with no explanation. In hindsight I should have known. I should have seen the trap, but I did not. I ran for safety, not realising that Nevar’s forces were just out of hearing,” Wolf let out a long sigh and ran a hand down her face. “The loss was catastrophic, and the Royal Family would not hear my excuses. I was banished to this place.”

Wolf dropped her hands to her sides. “There is my story. Whether you believe it or not is your decision. Raven of Old did not.”

Raven narrowed her eyes at her. “Were you in any way loyal to Nevar?”

“No!” Wolf cried louder than she intended. “Not at all! I would have been happy to have never seen him or his minions ever again!”

“Even though he has your Staff of Power?”

Wolf blinked. “Is that what you think this is about? That I called you all here to regain my staff? To be blunt, the thought had not crossed my mind. I will admit that if the opportunity arises then I might try, but I have no intention of getting close enough to Nevar to try!”

Raven appeared unfazed by the outburst and Wolf swallowed, trying to shut down her anger and fear.

“Believe what you wish to believe Raven. I will continue to guide the Warriors through the Giant’s Trials, and perhaps we will have enough of them left to save this place.”

Wolf stormed away, turning into a wolf and running into the forest. Now alone Raven let out a long sigh before glancing at her staff. She sighed once more before walking to back to watch over her Warriors.

 ---

The next morning Wolf had news to share with the Warriors.

“The Giants spoke with me last night,” she informed the Hawks, and soon after the Bears. “They told me that during these challenges you will be able to gain seeds. These seeds will help slow the spread of corruption as we get closer to the Heart Tree, and you will be able to use them revive fallen Warriors with my aid as before. But do not use them all in this effort, as the power of the seeds will also help the Heart Tree to heal, and if you do not have enough, then the tree will die. Now, we shall continue on your challenges.”

Still, the Warriors struggled again, this time it was the Bears who lost a member, and Wolf had to bring them back. Barely any seeds were collected, much to the Giant’s annoyance when she informed them later that day.

Thankfully, there had been no sign of demons. At least, on Wolf’s side.

Instead, Raven saw her first.

“Stoats, move quickly now,” she instructed, watching the dark cloaked figure. The Stoats obeyed and picked up the pace, and Raven sent a bolt of lightning at the demon, sending it back to whence it came.

When it was gone Raven paused, looking at her staff. She then turned her gaze east, roughly where she assumed Wolf was. Demons, especially alone, were easy to defeat with a Staff of Power. Wolf, by her own admission, had no such power anymore. It would make anyone afraid.

The two did not meet again in the evening for another two days, six days into the quest. They would meet just after the trials had finished for the day to swap reports, but little more.

“Are you having trouble?” Wolf noted with some amusement one time, as Raven waded through the snow.

“This snow is endless,” Raven grumbled. “Does it never melt?”

“It is unfortunately winter. The snow will not melt for several months.”

“How do you cope in a place like this? The endless white, like bone.”

“I am used to it, although I thought the same when I first arrived. The cold can be bitter if you are unprepared.”

“I admit I was not fully prepared,” Raven stomped her feet on the packed snow. “It is hard to retain my dignity with the Warriors if I am constantly losing my balance.”

“There are two methods of movement, you shuffle, or you place your whole foot down at once, as though you were marching,” Wolf advised.

Raven frowned, and carefully shuffled across the snow, then tried putting her whole foot down.

“Sometimes you have to pick your battles, whether you push your way through deep snow, or try to dance on top.”

“It does snow where I am from, I know some of this,” Raven snapped, and Wolf stepped back, holding up her hands in partial surrender.

“I meant no offence, I do not know what you know. Mind reading is beyond the scope of my abilities.”

Raven exhaled slowly.

“My apologies Wolf, you are trying to aid me, and I thank you.”

Wolf nodded and looked up at the sky. “I must report to the Giants. I will see you tomorrow.”

 ---

Raven actually went looking for Wolf the next evening, since Wolf did not appear for their usual meet up. Raven of Old’s warnings were running around her mind, and she just wanted to settle her curiosity and concern.

She found Wolf in between the Bear’s and Hawk’s camps. She had her own campfire set up and had cleared some snow away to sit down.

“What are you doing?” she asked, and Wolf was taken by surprise, looking up from her project.

“I am, making a cloak,” she held it up. It wasn’t finished, but so far the inside was lined with dark fur, and black feathers from various birds were being stitched onto the outside.

“What for?”

“I was making it for you. You do not appear equipped for the weather,” Wolf’s face twisted for a moment and she looked back down at the cloak. “Now it is something to keep my mind and hands occupied.”

“I… I apologise for what I insinuated a few days ago,” Raven said. “While I still cannot be sure of your intentions, I believe your story of how you knew Raven of Old.”

“Thank you,” Wolf turned back to the cloak. “I apologise for my reaction then. I have not been sleeping well, and the demon’s presence unsettled me.”

“They are unsettling,” Raven agreed, before squatting down next to Wolf. “Would you like any assistance?”

Wolf shook out the cloak. “If you could collect black feathers when you see them that would be most helpful. Unless of course you do not wish for this cloak to be black?”

“Black is suitable,” Raven assured. “Even if I do stand out here.”

“I am afraid you do stand out in this all snow.”

“I will cope,” Raven assured. “How did the Bears and Hawks fare today? You missed our usual meeting.”

“Ah, so I did. I apologise, I was distracted,” Wolf lifted up the cloak to show what she had been distracted by. “As for the Warriors, they have performed well today; they have collected a fine selection of seeds over the last two days. How did the Lynx and Stoats fare?”

“They are beginning to struggle, but I believe they will settle into their stride.”

“That is good,” Wolf looked up and stared into the middle distance “The Giant’s Trials will continue until we are within several miles of the Tree. This will give the Warriors plenty of time to collect seeds and settle into their teams.”

“And lose some along the way?”

“It may happen,” Wolf shrugged. “I am not relishing this, but I only have so many runes to bring them back with.”

“Indeed, and this land is starting to resist my bringing them back. I will not be able to do it forever, even with the seeds that they find.”

“Let us hope that luck remains on their side.”

“Indeed.”

Raven fully sat down on the ground, clearing away the snow.

“Do you not have your own camp to return to?”

“I will return to it, but I assumed you would like the company.”

“…You assume correctly,” Wolf mumbled. “Thank you.”

“That, and we can strategize, plan. Raven of Old has told me that he cannot sense Nevar within the desolate realm. He thinks that the power he is draining from here may be helping to hold him in this realm.”

Wolf swallowed. “I see. Then strategize we shall.”

The two talked, Wolf making mention of the black fortress and the corruption, Raven noting Nevar’s previous strategies. After several hours, the two had the beginnings of an agreed plan.

[thran-duils]

You Are Staying Here With Me

Title: You Are Staying Here With Me (Rise for Your King, Part 21) Pairing: Reader/AU King!Castiel Summary:  The reader was betrothed to the prince but when a neighboring king decides to dole out justice to your future father in low, he destroys the royal family, leaving you with the two youngest princesses. The mage king takes an immediate liking to you, letting you live. What will you do with this opportunity? Words: 2,881

Part 20 || Part 22 || Masterpost || Fanfic masterpost

Castiel paced restlessly outside the tent where Y/N was being treated by Kalin. The guards were avoiding getting in his way since he was in a right mood. His pants at the knees were filthy having knelt in the mud after waking from his séance, finding Y/N injured by his own hand. When she had collapsed against him, he’d immediately shouted for help. He hadn’t realized that Balthazar was there until Balthazar had come down to help him pick Y/N up.

When Kalin finally emerged, she stepped in front of Castiel and warned him, “She is weak. I am only stepping out for a moment to let you know what is going on. I put her under so she could recover quicker.”

“Aren’t you even going to ask what happened?” Castiel drawled, watching her closely. He half expected her to throw it in his face.

Kalin instead did the opposite. She was calm as she stated, “I know what happened. You lost control like I said you would. There’s no use in me gloating.”

“She should have stayed behind in the tent. I told the guards to not let her follow me.”

Sighing, Kalin responded, trying to be diplomatic, “You can’t blame them. She is their queen. If she –”

Castiel cut her off, “And I’m the king! My word is the final word.”

“Then make that clear next time.”

“There will not be a next time. I let them go. They’re no longer in my service.”

Kalin looked shocked, “Even Balthazar?”

Shaking his head, Castiel answered, “No. Not Balthazar. He was not given the same order as them, so he’s not at fault. From what he told me, he tried to stop her when he realized what was going on but she refused to listen. And he was unable to follow her to me.”

“Because?”

“It wouldn’t let him.”

Kalin didn’t need to ask what ‘it’ was. She knew how dark magic reacted around people trying to interfere with its operation.

“Well, thank the mother for small favors,” Kalin responded before adding, “I believe you marked her. Marked her viciously.” Castiel was stoic and Kalin exhaled, “But I expect you knew that I already.”

“I do,” Castiel responded stoically. “And I’ll remove it. But not now. I don’t have time or energy to waste. She will survive until this is over, as will I.”

Kalin held her tongue, refusing to argue with him further on it. He knew the risks, no matter how clouded his mind was by whatever darkness was beginning to swirl inside him. She was exhausted and needed to recuperate from healing his wife to the best of her abilities. She was no Castiel but she had done her best. So, she simply told him, “She’ll come to in the morning, your grace. Try to rest. Please.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you won’t,” Kalin replied with a sigh before turning and retreating back into the tent.

Castiel stood there for a few more moments before turning on his heel and striding back towards the tent where Y/N and him had been staying before. Balthazar was waiting outside with the three new guards standing at attention outside their king’s tent.

“If I may have a word, your grace,” Balthazar greeted him.

“If you must. Make it quick. I’m tired.”

When they were inside the tent, Balthazar started in immediately, “She will be alright?”

“Yes. Kalin did her job.”

“Will she remember what you’ve done?”

Castiel did not like the tone in Balthazar’s statement and turned his eyes to him, narrowing them. “She’ll most likely remember, yes. But why is that a concern to you?”

“Because you’ve broken her trust before. More than once. And it’s my job to advise you on how to approach problems. This is a big problem, my king.”

The shadow behind Castiel illuminated by the candle seemed to grow in size for a few moments, catching Balthazar’s eyes but flickered again. Balthazar tried to tell himself it was merely a trick of the light but he knew Castiel better.

“She will remember, yes. And she will no doubt be afraid of me for awhile. But, she will get over it.”

Cocking his head slightly, Balthazar questioned, “Over it? You hurt her because you’ve been tapping into dark magic. And now it lashed out and injured your wife. That is not something you should simply state that she will get over it, Castiel. You’ve been down this path before and you know how it ended last time. I know how it ended last time. I don’t wish to see the same pattern repeat itself.”

This time, there was no mistake that the shadow behind Castiel grew, advancing on Balthazar along the walls of the tent.

A growl left Castiel’s lips, “It is not your place to be questioning me on my actions! There is a threat to our kingdom and it means to hurt everyone in it. I will not let that happen! Not again!”

Balthazar snapped, losing his temper, “YOU hurt her!”

Castiel’s face fell immediately, his hand coming to his side again limply, the shadow retreating.

Balthazar straightened up again, immediately apologetic for his outburst. “I didn’t mean to yell, your grace, but –”

The remorse that had been in Castiel’s face was gone and it was replaced with anger again. “Yell all you want Balthazar. I’m going to save this kingdom. And her. This was a minor setback.”

Scoffing, Balthazar responded, “A minor setback?!”

Storming towards him, Castiel loomed over him, and Balthazar retreated a step. “I know what I am doing. It is different, and she will be unscathed!”

Not missing a beat, Balthazar told him, “At least outwardly, your grace.”

Castiel’s nostrils flared at the insinuation, “I will let nothing near her!”

“What about yourself?”

“If you don’t watch your tongue, Balthazar, you’re going to find it missing from your throat,” Castiel growled at him and Balthazar closed his mouth, averting his eyes. “Get out of my sight! This conversation is over.”

Balthazar looked defeated, quietly watching Castiel who’s chest was rising and falling rapidly. Swallowing slowly, Balthazar responded, “You don’t need to worry, your grace. I’ll make myself scarce. You won’t have to see me.”

Leaving the tent, Balthazar did not spare a glance backwards at his king. Castiel took that as his defeat and cursed to himself before storming out of the tent a few seconds later. The guards were watching him wearily, not sure how to respond as their king blew down the same path towards where he had injured his queen.

He came to the clearing again, seeing the scorched earth, his eyes falling on the spot where he had burned a hand-print into his wife. Foolish girl, he thought to himself angrily. She shouldn’t have followed him. She should have heeded his warning that the guards were to explain to her. If she would just listen to him, she would be fine. She would be safe, and they could return to normal and he could coddle her, spoil her, and hold her close without worry. If everyone would just let him do what he knew was best.

Chest heaving, Castiel turned towards the river, his legs moving forward of their own accord.

Stepping into the water, the current did not sweep him away, but instead found him a formidable force, moving around him. Castiel waded out further, blackness seeping from him, staining the water, rushing with the current downstream.

He felt relief, the desire to corrupt leaving his bones, sinking into the running water.

<> <> <>

Your arm hurt no longer hurt but the mark was clear. Castiel’s large handprint was burned into your skin. Kalin had done a wonderful job relieving your pain and numbing it. She would have to do so for weeks she told you, unless Castiel was able to spare the energy before then to remove the mark. It would drain him drastically, but she told you he believed it was possible.

Upon hearing that, your anger had lessened a little. You didn’t know if you were truly mad at Castiel or the circumstance. Kalin had only explained to you briefly what had happened. Castiel had been relieving dark magic – how much he had been using was news to you – and you had interrupted it by drawing attention to your core. Around an inflamer as strong as you, dark magic would hum and grasp at you. Castiel had succumbed to it, latching onto you entirely. And leaving his mark, both inwardly and outwardly. You were still quite tired.

You had been alone all morning until Castiel had shown up, stepping inside the tent. Your heart leapt seeing him, wanting to kiss him. But your head told you to stay away from him.

“You are staying here with me.”

The first words out of his mouth were not ones you would choose to start a diplomatic conversation.

“Where else do you think I would be going?”

Castiel shrugged slightly, “I’m just squashing any conversation about you potentially leaving and going back home at the moment right from the start.”

Defiance rose up and you retorted, “Do you think here is safer than at home?”

His eyes flashed. “Yes.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Castiel seemed to have come in ready for this fight because he snapped, “You’re staying here and that’s final! You don’t have to see me but you will be near me! I don’t trust anyone to take you back to the castle safely. And the castle is not as safe as me for you.”

You closed your mouth, staring at him. Cracking his neck, Castiel inhaled sharply before continuing, “I know I hurt you, but you’re staying here. And since that is happening, I believe it’s best that you don’t lay with me until after this is finished.”

Narrowing your eyes, you inquired, “After what is finished?”

“Destroying Mowg.”

That’s why you were here. Finally. A straight answer.

Your voice was small as you questioned, “You’re bringing me to war?”

If he noticed your nervousness, he didn’t show it. “You’ll be close by. Knowing you are here will put my mind at ease. I need to know you are safe.” You said nothing to this and his eyes ran over you as the silence grew between the two of you.

It made sense. He wanted you close by to keep him calm and not have another thing to worry about. But, if he had hurt you – and admitted it – how much comfort could that bring him?

“This will be all over soon,” Castiel told you, his voice even. He paused before stating, “I’ll fix your arm when this is all over. Just next time… please listen to the instructions I have given. I give them for a reason. My sense is something you should adhere to.”

Again, you said nothing, just watched him. He sighed before saying, “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, Kalin will see to it.”

With that, he left you and you watched his retreating back as the tent flap closed.

He was keeping his distance from you. And something told you it just wasn’t because he was sorry about what had happened.

<> <> <>

“We are moving.”

Kalin had entered the tent merely less than a half hour after Castiel had left you. You were brushing your hair and looked over your shoulder at her.

“Where?”

“West.”

Towards Mowg. Castiel was not going to give up this quest. Sighing to yourself, you placed the brush down and asked, “How soon?”

“As soon as essentials are packed. We will move then. And the men have already gone ahead with the second set of tents.”

Of course. Castiel had made sure there were two sets so that during the move, there would be a set up for you all to come to to rest initially.

It was quiet for a few moments before Kalin stated, “He should have apologized to you.”

Giving her a shocked look, you responded without stuttering, “He did.” You weren’t shocked that she knew he had not outwardly apologized but the fact she was scolding him. Even if he couldn’t hear.

She merely looked unimpressed, “Words mean nothing.”

You were surprised at her assertion of what he had said was hollow. Kalin was not afraid to speak her mind. Looking down at the ground, you knew what she was saying was right. But something inside was telling you to not betray him and agree with her. He had been trying to expel whatever darkness was inside without hurting anyone around. And you had interfered.

And as soon as you thought that, you angrily scolded yourself for excusing him. He was going against everything everyone was warning him against and for what?

“Words are a first step. Action is what will come next. And I’m sure he will do his best to deliver,” you finally said to her.

Kalin watched you closely as you cleared your throat and walked on.

There was a battle waging inside of you. Parts of yourself fighting against the other to follow him blindly and the other to stand your ground because you knew this was a dangerous path.

<> <> <>

Traveling west through the mountains was long and exhausting. You weren’t even walking but the hours drug on and on. It seemed the closer you got to where Mowg and his dominion lay, the less life there was. The first few hours had been peppered with wildlife and you had smiled seeing the foxes, deer, rabbits, and the like. But they were scarce for the last hour or so.

Castiel was riding ahead of you, your eyes trained on his broad back. More than a few times you had caught yourself transfixed by the mere sight of him. It felt foreign the way you were drawn in by him. You had always been attracted to him, your desire for him a warmth between your thighs. But this was something deep inside… a rope drawn taut. It felt different.

Suddenly, the sky darkened, and your attention was drawn upwards.

There was a flock of what you believed were birds coming towards you; so many that they almost blotted out the sun.

That’s when you realized they weren’t real birds.

Castiel had swung himself off his horse and had ran ahead and you watched him in awe as he bolted far ahead of his company. His only thoughts were to protect and his feelings reverberated within you.

Magic shot from him, his hand raised towards the oncoming attack. The power was blinding and you had to look away quickly, his sunburst a shot towards the darkness incoming. Something made you look back and you squinted, your hand raised to shield your eyes. His gold magic was something to behold, engulfing the oncoming black cloud.

His dominance only lasted for a few seconds before he began to buckle slightly, looking like he was having trouble. You felt the tightness in your chest, and you leaned forward on your horse. He was in trouble.

Without thinking, you swung your legs over, dismounting from your horse. And as expected, someone was on you in a second and it happened to be Sam. He was following close behind you, and how you knew it was him without turning around made no sense to you. But you pushed that out of your mind, your focus being on Castiel.

Strings of black erupted from his hand, spinning circles around his gold and relief flooded Castiel, before being replaced with newfound determination.

Something tingled on your arm, originating from Castiel’s mark. Your stride coming to a stop, close to where Castiel stood, you looked down at your arm. Your brow furrowed before warm, complacency began rushing through your veins.

The gold and black weaved through what was now becoming grey and slowly fading to silver and then finally white. Castiel had won but it had been at a cost.

Lowering his arm, Castiel stared at the sky for a few more moments before turning to face his people behind him.

His eyes were glowing, a mixture of black speckled with gold. Entranced, you could focus on nothing else, your inner being stirring, urging you to move towards him.

Replenish. Replenish.

It was all that was running through your head. To help your master. Help him. You barely felt Sam’s arms wrapping around you, pulling you back towards him.

This was registered on Castiel’s radar instantaneously; someone else laying hands on you. His attention snapped to you and the gold began to disappear, the darkness intensifying in his eyes. He knew you were under his spell and his fingers twitched as if to beckon you.

You took a step towards him, only wanting to serve him.

Castiel broke the gaze, squeezing his eyes shut tight. A grunt left his mouth, struggling internally and you felt it too, as his fists tightened into round balls.

Just as quickly as it had come on, you were focused outwardly again, your mind clear. Blinking, the feeling and memory was fading quickly.

A shaky breath left Castiel as he opened his eyes again.

He was looking past you, towards his men.

“Mowg knows I’m coming.”

~~~

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