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hollybell51 · 2 years ago

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?”

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine.

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?”

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?”

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added.

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.”

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.”

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression.

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly.

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once.

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink.

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily.

You smiled. “Lemonade.”

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter.

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly.

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.”

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left.

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them?

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.”

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it.

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you.

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing.

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing.

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him.

“It is.”

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.”

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.”

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright”

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking.

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you.

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.”

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?”

“No, we’ve got two singles.”

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.”

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.��

“I know, but–”

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.”

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed.

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.”

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you.

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched.

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault.

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab.

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.”

“Should I keep going?”

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad.

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead.

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.”

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.”

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you.

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to.

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his.

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade.

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound.

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright.

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it.

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses.

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing.

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside.

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters.

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused.

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips.

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering.

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.”

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…”

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed.

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.”

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away.

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?”

He nodded.

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he murmured.

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him?

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him.

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment.

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.”

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?”

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked.

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.”

He stared. “Do you want to?”

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath…

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?”

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you.

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life.

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?”

“Mhm.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that.

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful.

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake.

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.”

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning.

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before.

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to.

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that.

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out.

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…”

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled.

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.”

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?”

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip.

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?”

You smiled. “Magic word?”

“Please,” he practically growled.

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute.

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.”

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.”

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless.

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.”

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright.

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face.

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting.

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?”

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?”

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.”

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.”

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning.

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body.

“Mhm.”

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.”

“I want you to feel–”

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?”

“But I’m–”

“Cas.”

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you.

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.”

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy.

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit.

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked.

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, Cas, just like that.”

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly.

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good?

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps.

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?”

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing.

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you.

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine.

Cas froze immediately.

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.”

“Is this not–”

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs.

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small.

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face.

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.”

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.”

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged.

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable.

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want to squash you.”

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.”

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?”

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out.

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.”

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed.

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock.

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours.

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?”

He swallowed, his eyes dark.

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.”

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?”

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time.

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?”

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name.

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that.

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs.

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!”

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra.

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.”

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.”

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be.

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch.

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed.

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?”

After a moment, he nodded.

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again.

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.”

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?”

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty.

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.”

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him.

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much.

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

“Hello.”

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).”

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.”

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully.

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…”

He waited, watching you stumble over your words.

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?”

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?”

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked.

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden.

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt.

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.”

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.”

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question.

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier.

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point.

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing.

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.”

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam?

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck.

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.”

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything.

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.”

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.”

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared.

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.”

“No? Who else?”

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now.

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.”

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all.

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas.

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.”

“No, I mean–”

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?”

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug.

Cas frowned. “Told him what?”

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!”

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.”

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?”

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas.

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.”

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.”

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?”

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.”

“Mhm, back at Stanford–”

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.”

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.”

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly.

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back.

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.”

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

4K notes · View notes

myosotisa · 2 years ago

Text

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it.

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #vampire!Eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #myo4munson

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fanfictionalraven · 8 months ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Title: Right Where You Left Me

Summary: The reader, a waitress at the local diner, has become good friends with Dean. What happens when he disappears without a trace?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 7,309

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author's Note: This story takes place through the events of the second half of season 12, starting with episode 9 "First Blood". It's also the first story I've actually written and published in nearly 6 years, so grant me a little grace please. Enjoy!!

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A voice says. You snap from your thoughts and look at the people sitting at the table in front of you. You’d gotten distracted by the bell at the door, a new customer coming in. Not the one you were looking for though. Putting on your best smile, you shake your head slightly.

“I’m so sorry. Where were we?” You ask, glancing at the notepad in your hand.

“We were trying to ask you about the pie of the day,” the woman says. You nod and try not to sigh.

“Cherry,” you tell her. Dean’s favorite. They order two slices which you deliver to them quickly before going into the kitchen. “Stew, I’m taking a 10,” you announce to the cook. He waves a hand at you and glances at the clock.

“Make it 5,” he shouts as you slip out the back door. Leaning against the wall with a sigh, you slip the brace off of your wrist and roll the sore joint slowly, wincing.

“This job,” you mumble before pulling your phone from your apron. Going into your recent calls, you hit the name at the top. Dean. He wasn’t going to answer. He hadn’t in weeks after all, calls or texts. It rings…and rings…and rings. Just as you’re about to give up, the final ring is cut off.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice asks, curiously. Confusion and a million unpleasant thoughts sweep over you in an instant.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to reach Dean,” you say.

“This is his phone. At least, I think it is…who is this?” She asks. You sigh and run a hand over your face.

“My name’s Y/N. I…I work at a diner and Dean’s one of my regulars. I haven’t seen him in a while and…I was worried,” you tell her. You can hear the confusion in her voice when she responds.

“A waitress who has her customer’s numbers and calls to check up on them?” She asks.

“No. Well…yes, but…Dean’s more than just a customer,” you say.

“What exactly is Dean then?” She asks, a slight edge to her voice. What is Dean? That was the very question you’d spent countless nights asking yourself.

When Dean had first wandered into the diner and sat in your section, he was just another tip. Sure, the two of you had flirted but, to be honest, you flirted with most of your customers. You had bills to pay after all. He came back the very next night, claiming the pie had just been too good. On his fifth visit to the diner, he wandered in just as you clocked out and invited you to join him. You sat in that booth across from him for hours, laughing and talking. At the end of his seventh trip, you slipped your phone number to him on the back of his bill. He’d called you before his car was even out of the parking lot.

That was nearly a year ago and the two of you talked and texted regularly ever since. Sure, he’d go silent for a little while but then he’d saunter into the diner, give you a crooked smile, and ask for the pie of the day. Throughout that year, the two of you flirted, laughed, and teased each other. There had been a few occasions when he’d catch you as you were leaving, place a to-go order, and then you’d ride in his car out to some deserted spot to talk and eat. You’d gotten to know each other intimately. In an emotional sense that is. Dean always kept you at arm’s length. He’d never asked you on a real date. Your coworkers insisted he was probably married and just stringing you along. And now some strange woman was answering his phone and…

“Y/N?” The woman on the line says.

“Sorry. A friend. Dean’s…a really good friend,” you tell her. “Can I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mary,” she starts and you immediately let out a heavy sigh.

“His mother. Of course,” you breathe with relief.

“Yes,” she says, slightly surprised.

“He’s talked about you a lot. Where is Dean?” You ask. Now, it was Mary’s turn to sigh.

“We don’t know,” she tells you.

“What?” You ask. “It’s his job, isn’t it?” You didn’t know exactly what Dean did but he’d come into the diner beaten and bruised on a few occasions.

“Well…yes,” she says.

“Have you called the police?”

“Y/N, break’s over,” Stew calls from the back door.

“Give me a minute!!” You yell to him. He grumbles and slams the door shut. “You have called the police, right, Mary?”

“That’s not exactly an option,” she says, slowly.

“Well…what about Sam? Or…or Cas?” You ask. There’s the briefest of pauses.

“I’m…I’m here with Mary,” a second voice says.

“And Sam was with Dean,” Mary adds. Cas was there as well, listening to your conversation. You frown and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think.

“I want to help,” you tell them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but…we don’t even know you,” she says.

“Well, then, come meet me. I get off at 8:00,” you say before giving her the address for the diner. “If you don’t show up, I’ll call the police and report them missing myself.”

“We’ll be there,” Mary says before disconnecting the line. You slip the phone back into your apron pocket and run your hands over your face. Sliding the brace back onto your wrist, you head back into the diner.

The rest of your shift drags on slowly. You don’t make nearly as much as you could have on tips, your normal perky personality absent. At 8:15, you finally manage to clock out, throwing your apron into the dirty linens bag. You rush out the front door and look around, phone in hand. The front doors of an unfamiliar car open at the same time. Mary, you recognize her from the old pictures Dean had shown you, gets out of the driver’s side, and the man you assume to be Cas gets out as well.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, watching you. You nod and rush over to the two of them.

“While I wish it was under different circumstances, it’s nice to finally meet you both,” you tell them, holding a hand out. Mary gives you a quick once over before placing her hand in yours.

“I wish I could say the same but…”

“Dean never mentioned me,” you say. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. You’d often wondered and now you knew for sure. You were a secret.

“So, what exactly do you know about their work?” Mary asks. You frown and shrug.

“Not much. I figure…best case, CIA…worst case, I dunno…the mafia,” you say, more than a little embarrassed. Mary smiles a little and looks down at the ground.

“Not exactly. It’s a bit more freelance than that,” she says.

“Like a bounty hunter?” You ask. Mary shakes her head, looking around.

“I’d rather not discuss it here. Would you be willing to go back to the bun…where the boys live and talk there?” She asks.

“Of course,” you agree, immediately.

***

Never get in the car with strangers. The age old advice rang through your ears as you rode in the back seat to wherever Mary and Cas were taking you. Of course, these two weren’t exactly strangers. They were at least Dean’s mother and best friend. You truly felt like you actually knew them with how much he’d talked about them.

Mary continues to drive as you watch the cityscape disappear. It isn’t too long before she’s pulling onto a desolate looking road. The road leads into a dark tunnel, only lit by the headlights of Mary’s car. Your eyes have to readjust when she pulls into a much more brightly lit area. Looking around, you find a room that appears to be a garage holding several very old cars. This much at least screamed Dean, relaxing you a little.

“You said they live here?” You ask, trying to wrap your mind around that statement.

“Yes. It’s an old bunker. Used to be home to a secret society, the Men of Letters,” she tells you. You nod and try to keep your face in check. You can feel her watching you in the rearview mirror.

“Are they in this secret society then? You ask as she parks the car.

“No,” she answers. “It died out in America decades ago. There is still an active branch in London though.”

“Douchebags,” Cas mutters. You both look at him and he glances between the two of you. “That’s what Dean calls them.” You let out a small laugh as the three of you get out of the car. Mary leads the way through the bunker quietly. You follow, looking around and trying to take in as much as you can. She leads the two of you into what you assume is a library given the shelves of books all along the walls.

“You drink?” She asks, holding up a bottle of brown liquid. You nod as you take a seat at the table. Admittedly, you were more of a wine drinker but you felt the impending conversation would require something stronger. Mary pours two glasses and sets one in front of you before walking around to the other side of the table. She takes the seat opposite you and looks at the glass, swirling it slightly. “You sure about this, Y/N? Once you know the truth, leaving it behind can be pretty difficult.”

“Please,” is all you manage to say. She nods and throws her drink back quickly.

“Alright,” she starts. “I come from a long line of hunters. Not the kind you’re thinking of. My family hunted monsters. Ghosts, demons, witches, vampires.” You strive to keep your face in check as you take a slow drink. This was not what you were expecting at all. “When I was 19, dating John, the boys’ father, a demon killed him and my parents. He offered me a deal. He would bring John back and we could live a normal life, as long as I gave him permission to enter my home in 10 years. I was suddenly alone and holding the dead body of the love of my life. I agreed. Ten years later, he entered my home and killed me. John took the boys on the road and they became hunters as well.”

Mary stops as you stand slowly and make your way over to the bottle she had used earlier. With shaking hands, you refill your glass before downing it quickly. This was insane. Mary was insane. There was no way this was real.

“Mary…I…you really expect me to believe all this?” You ask, looking back at her now. She shrugs slightly and looks at Cas. You’d forgotten he was even there. He’d been leaning against a bookshelf behind her, watching you. You look at him as he starts to make his way around the table towards you.

Panic quickly rises in your throat and you have to remind yourself that these are Dean’s people. At least…you’re fairly certain they are. You’d never seen pictures of Cas and the only ones you had seen of Mary were from when Dean was just a child. Now, this strange woman was trying to convince you that monsters were real and your friend hunted them for a living. Cas stops next to you and looks down at your hand.

“Why are you wearing that brace?” He asks. You blink, surprised. You’d half expected him to knock you unconscious.

“I, ummm…” You hold it up and shake your head. “Carpal Tunnel from work.” Cas nods and briefly touches two fingers to your forehead before you can even register the movement.

“You won’t need it anymore,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief before taking the brace off. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel any pain as you roll your wrist in every direction. You look back up at Cas and then at Mary. She smiles and shrugs.

“Angel,” she says. You know the shock is clear all over your face as Cas helps you back to your seat. The three of you sit in silence for a little while as you process all of this information. You’re grateful for the time they give you.

“You, ummm…” You stop and look at Mary. “You said you died.” She runs a hand across her forehead and looks at you, debating on if you’re prepared for more information. You give her the best reassuring smile you can manage at the moment.

“God’s sister brought me back as a thank you gift to Dean and Sam for helping her reunite with her brother,” she says. You’re absolutely certain your jaw hits the table.

“Well…that was…nice,” you manage. “And they were on a…a hunt when they disappeared?”

“Lucifer had possessed the president of the United States,” Cas starts. “We were going to exorcise him and return him to his cage in hell.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, immediately beginning to massage your temples. “This is…this is a lot.”

“Now you know why Dean never told you,” Mary says. You nod, still attempting to rub away the migraine threatening to explode behind your eyes.

“I, ummm…can I take a walk?” You ask. Mary nods, smiling a little. You hoped you were handling this better than she expected. You’re still shaking as you rise from your seat again and make your way down one of the hallways. Your mind thinks back over things Dean had mentioned about his work and, frankly, it lined up. He’d never given you a lot of details but now it was starting to make sense.

You stop in the middle of the hallway and glance around. Your curiosity gets the better of you causing you to push open the door in front of you. It was a bedroom, modestly decorated. You make your way into the room and find a familiar picture sitting on the bedside table. It was the photo Dean had shown you of him and his mother. Glancing around the room, you surmise that it must be his room.

You pull open the drawer of the bedside table and gasp. Inside you find several things, another gun, a handful of credit cards, and fake ID’s. But the most surprising thing was sitting right on top. You gingerly pick up the picture and can’t help but smile. It’s of you, sitting in the front seat of Dean’s car, laughing. You remembered when he’d taken it, one of the many nights you’d spent talking. You didn’t realize he’d had it printed and kept it so close. Maybe you were more than just a secret.

“Y/N?” Mary asks from the doorway. You look up at her and she smiles. “I was getting ready to head out when you called, a vampire thing in Missouri. Cas said he’d take you back.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you tell her. She nods once and leaves you alone.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You call Stew and make up a story about a death in the family out of state, telling him you’ll need a week or two off. He reluctantly agrees. You stay at the bunker with Cas after that. Your days are spent diving into the lore books in the old bunker, learning anything and everything you can. Cas teaches you how to do “research”, showing you how to tell the difference between normal weird and supernatural weird. He shows you one of the spare bedrooms but you end up sleeping in Dean’s room instead.

The two of you are making your way to the library when you hear Cas’s phone ringing. He rushes ahead to answer it and you go over to a new shelf to find something else to study.

“What?” He answers the phone. “Dean?” The book you’d picked out slips from your hand and you rush to his side. “What, what happened? Wh-where are you?” You stare at him, tears stinging your eyes. He grabs a pen and pad off the table and quickly jots down a note. Rocky Mountain National Park. State Route 34. “Yes. – Wait, where? – Wait, what does that…” Cas sighs and sets the phone down, frowning.

“What did he say?? Are they okay??” You ask. He glances at you and shrugs.

“He sounded rushed. Like they were being chased,” he says. You nod and pick up the notepad, trying to hide the rush of emotions you were feeling.

“We’ve got to call Mary. Meet up with her and get to Colorado,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and frowns.

“No, Y/N. It’s too dangerous for you to come along,” he says, taking the notepad. You shake your head, tears falling freely as you look up at the angel.

“Cas, please,” you beg. His resolve breaks instantly and he sighs, picking his phone back up.

“Dean would not approve,” he mumbles before calling Mary.

The two of you pull into a parking lot several hours later. Mary’s car is already sitting, waiting. She gets out and clenches her jaw when she sees you rise from the passenger side of Cas’s car.

“You got here quickly,” Cas remarks. Mary nods, eyes fixed on you.

“Yep. What the hell is she doing here??” She asks. Cas sighs and looks over at you.

“Mary, please. I won’t get in the way, I swear,” you tell her. Frowning, she shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s not about you being in the way. We have no idea what we’re walking into. I’m more worried about you getting hurt and what that would do to Dean,” she says. Swallowing hard, you set your jaw. Mary wasn’t going to see you cry too.

“Please. I have to be there. I need to see him with my own eyes,” you plead. She watches you for a moment, debating internally.

“Dean’s gonna kill us,” she says before turning to Cas. “We may want backup.”

“Crowley and Rowena?” He asks. She scoffs and you glance between them.

“The King of Hell and his mother, the witch?” She asks. You frown and shake your head.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you comment. Mary smiles a little and looks at Cas.

“I hope we can do better than them.”

“I may have an idea,” he says. Mary nods and makes for the driver’s side of her own car.

“Good. Seat belts on. I drive fast,” she tells the two of you as you load into the car as well.

The British Men of Letters. That was Cas’s idea. Mary almost immediately pulls out, supposing “the demon and his mommy” don’t sound so bad anymore. You hang back, watching the situation unfold. The two Brits, Mick and Ketch from what you gather, offer their services seemingly free of charge. They make a few phone calls, getting access to a satellite of the area Dean had mentioned. Mary and Cas are able to deduce the direction they’re headed and a good spot to meet them.

The two cars move to the new location and you all unload once again. You look up at the night sky and think about the last night you’d spend with Dean. He’d picked you up from the diner at closing time and drove you out of town to a remote location. You’d both laid on the hood of the car, splitting the last of the pie of the day.

“Y/N,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to face her and immediately launch into pleading again.

“Mary, please. I don’t want to wait here while you two go on…”

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand up. “That’s not what I was going to say. Dean’s already gonna be pissed we brought you. He’d kill us both if we left you with those two. Just stay close to us and if something goes wrong, run back here.” You manage a relieved smile and follow her and Cas further up into the woods.

The three of you come into a small clearing and it isn’t long before there’s a rustling in the brush. Cas and Mary both move into a defensive stance in front of you. You wring your hands as you wait. Cas takes a few steps closer to the noise just as Dean and Sam fall through the bushes. Your heart jumps into your throat at the sight of Dean and you almost break down crying right then.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas says, relieved. You can see the tension immediately leave Mary’s shoulders as she takes in the sight of her boys. Sam rises first and pulls Cas into a tight hug. His eyes land on Mary and he smiles.

“Mom,” he says, letting Cas go. He starts to make his way across the clearing towards her when you register the confusion on his face. Dean finally stands and hugs Cas as well. Sam pulls Mary into a tight embrace that she immediately returns. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“Y/N??” Dean’s voice rings across the clearing. You smile, swallowing back tears, and wave slightly. “The hell is she doing here??” His voice is thick with anger as he makes his way over to Mary. The venom in his words takes you by surprise. Mary raises her hands slightly.

“She was worried about you. Called your phone. I answered and she wanted to help,” she explains. You and Dean stand there, staring at each other. Dean’s eyes are full of a rage you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“How much do you know?” He asks.

“A lot more than I did a week ago,” you tell him. He shakes his head and looks to the sky before looking at his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a gasp of surprise and returns the embrace. Dean’s eyes never leave your face. “Let’s get out of here,” he says before walking straight past you.

You take a shaky breath and run your hands over your face. You had anticipated he’d be angry, of course. But you had hoped the joy of being together again would cancel that anger out at some point. Mary pats your shoulder before she starts to follow Dean. You debate on staying right there in the woods for a moment before falling in step behind them. Sam clears his throat slightly as you all walk.

“Mom, how did yall even find us?” He asks, attempting to break the tension.

“They helped,” she says, pointing to Mick and Ketch as they come into view.

“Dammit!! They know about her now too??” He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, get in the car.” You stare at him in disbelief for a moment. “Car. Now,” he demands. You wipe at your eyes furiously as you storm back to Mary’s car. Sliding into the middle of the back seat, you realize for the first time that the Dean you knew and this Dean, the real Dean, may not be the same person.

The five of them talk for only a moment before coming to the car. Cas takes the passenger seat quickly and Dean doesn’t hide the dirty look he gives him. You shake your head, unable to believe that having to sit by you in the car was that unsettling. Had you misinterpreted your entire relationship? Sam gets in on your other side and smiles at you, awkwardly.

“Y/N, wasn’t it?” He asks. You look at him and smile bitterly.

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you Sam. I’ve heard so much about you. And don’t worry. I know the feeling can’t be mutual. You’ve never heard of me before, have you?” You ask, letting your anger burst out for a moment. Dean’s hand tightens into a fist on his leg as he stares out the window. Sam’s awkward smile becomes apologetic before Mary changes the subject, filling them in on everything they’d missed.

Mary continues to drive on into the night. You catch Sam and Dean both nervously glancing at the clock at the front of the car. They seem to only be getting more anxious as the minutes tick by.

“So wait, you're hunting?” Dean asks his mother. She glances back at him in the mirror and shrugs.

“A little bit,” she says. Sam smiles and shakes his head.

“Yea, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he teases.

The exact second the clock switches over to 12:00, midnight, the car dies. Mary eases it onto a bridge as she tries the key again.

“It’s time,” Sam says, getting out of the car. You look at him then over at Dean.

“Stay in the car,” Dean tells you. Rolling your eyes, you slide out right behind him, tired of being ordered around tonight. The others all get out as well and look around, taking in their surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Mary asks.

“Yea, Dean. Sup?” A new voice says. You all look over to find a woman standing in the middle of the bridge. You look around, trying to figure out where she could have possibly come from. Dean takes an immediate step in front of you, shielding your entire body. Instinctively, you step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his back, assuring him you were there and okay.

“Billie?” Mary asks, recognition and confusion mixed on her face.

“The reaper?” Cas asks. You close your eyes, trying to think back over your studies. It wasn’t one of things you’d become familiar with but gauging everyone’s reactions, this wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t understand,” Mary says, shaking her head. Dean sighs and hangs his head.

“Mom, that place…there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing,” he starts to explain. You glance around at everyone and notice the horrified look on Cas’s face. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked to her and then Billie came to talk to me,” Sam continues the story. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…”

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently,” Billie says, smiling. “And that is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“No,” you whisper from behind Dean.

“Why would you –,” Mary starts.

“We were already dead,” Dean tells her. “Being locked in that cell with nothing…I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam finishes. You shake your head, taking a step away from Dean.

“No,” you say again. He looks over his shoulder at you and his anger has completely dissolved. “Dean, no.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Billie says, waving. You look at her in utter shock but Dean steps between the two of you again.

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas says, shaking his head.

“Yea, they do,” Billie says. “We made a pact bound in blood, You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?” She asks, looking between the brothers. Sam looks at Dean, then at you, and back to Dean who shakes his head.

“Me,” Mary says before either of them can answer. She turns to face Billie, pulling her handgun from her waistband. Sam and Dean both immediately object, stepping forward to stop her. Billie flings both of them away with a wave of her hand. You rush to Dean’s side and fall next to him, immediately checking him for injuries. He shakes his head and fights to rise to his feet again.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies?” Mary asks. “I’m a Winchester.”

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smile. Mary cocks the gun and raises it toward her head. Sam and Dean both object loudly again, fighting to get to her.

“I love you,” Mary sniffs. Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, a sharp pointed blade pierces through Billie’s chest from behind and she immediately falls dead. You stare in shock at the dead body lying before you. Cas stands over her, the blade in his hand dripping blood. Mary lowers her gun as Dean and Sam are finally able to get to their feet. Dean takes your hand, pulling you up as well. You begin to pale as you stare at the body.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, looking at his best friend in shock.

“What had to be done,” he says. “You know this world – this sad, doomed little world – it needs you…” Your ears begin to ring and you take a shaky step closer to Dean. His arm comes around your waist, eyes never leaving Cas as he continues to talk. Something about keeping all the Winchesters alive.

“Dean,” Mary says, pointing to you. “First dead body.” Dean looks down at you just as you go completely limp in his arms.

Dean runs his hands over his face before taking a long swig off his beer. A lot had happened in the last day; dying, coming back again, running, fighting for their lives, getting back to their family, you, Billie, you, Cas killing a reaper…you. That was really the only thing on his mind…you. He had so carefully built a relationship with you. A relationship based on half truths and secrets but a relationship nevertheless. Now, you knew the whole nasty truth. It was going to be Lisa all over again…

“Dean?” Mary asks, sticking her head into the kitchen. He glances over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Can I join you?” Nodding, he points to the empty seat across from him. She walks over, taking the seat quietly. He stares at the bottle in his hands. “Dean…”

“You shouldn’t have told her,” he tells her firmly. “It wasn’t your place. I didn’t want her to know. She was safer not knowing. Now…I’ll never see her again.”

“What? Why?” Mary asks, confused. Dean stands and throws his empty bottle into the trash.

“To keep her safe!!” He snaps, spinning on her angrily. “People around me don’t hang around too long. They either run or they die. It’s as simple as that. Especially the ones who mean the most to me. And she means…” He stops abruptly, emotion closing up his throat. Mary frowns as she stands and walks over to him.

“It only seems that way, Dean. Y/N, she’s…she’s strong. She took everything I told her in stride and she stayed. She stayed here with Cas and she’s been learning how to do the job,” she tells him.

“That’s even worse!! I don’t want her anywhere near this,” he says, fighting back tears. “If it was just normal hunter stuff then maybe but the stuff we deal with…Lucifer and Amara and God…I want her as far away from all of this as possible.”

“Don’t you think she should get a say in this?” Mary asks. He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“No. Soon as she wakes up, I’m taking her back home. I’ll never go back to that diner.. She’ll never see or hear from me again,” he says.

“What?” You whisper to yourself, standing just outside the kitchen door. You turn on your heels and rush down the hall towards the garage. Your car was there and you’d spent enough time at the bunker to know how to get out. You hadn’t heard much but you heard enough. Dean didn’t want to see you anymore, plain and simple.

***

Three months, five days.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw Dean. You’d left the bunker, rejected and heartbroken, and Dean had kept his word. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come in for any pie. Life was back to normal. Boring, regular, normal. You found yourself reading into everything you saw on the news, wondering if it was a case Dean could be working at that very moment.

You’d volunteered to close down the diner for yet another night. Floors were mopped. Counters and tables wiped down. All you had left to do was lock up. Flipping off the lights, you step outside into the cool night air. You turn to lock the door when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. Damn it. You’d been so lost in thoughts about what you had believed was a werewolf in Michigan you hadn’t checked the parking lot first.

“Hello, love,” a heavy British accent says. There’s nothing familiar and certainly nothing friendly about the greeting. You stand frozen for a moment, weighing your options. You didn’t have many.

“We’re closed,” you say, not turning to face him yet.

“Not here for the pie,” he jokes. He’s closer than he had been.

“Look. My manager has already taken the deposit to the bank. I’ve got a few bucks in my purse and that’s it. I haven’t seen your face yet. You can turn around and leave, no consequences,” you tell him.

“Afraid not. Got a job to do. A message for your little hunter boyfriend,” he says. You let out a short laugh.

“You’re definitely barking up the wrong tree,” you say. His reflection is in the glass of the door now, standing right behind you. You take a deep breath and turn to face him finally. “Dean Winchester doesn’t care about me. Hurting me, won’t hurt him in any way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, brandishing a knife. You bring your knee up, hitting him in the groin. He grunts and doubles over, giving you enough time to run towards your car. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t slow him down enough. Before you can make it to the car, he’s grabbed you by your waist, knife at your throat. “Any last words I can pass on to the Winchesters?” He breathes in your ear.

“Go to hell,” you spit at him. You feel the knife press harder against your skin as angry tears slide down your cheeks. What a way to go. Dying for a man who couldn’t care less.

Before the Brit can finish you off, a car whips into the dark parking lot, lights shining bright on the two of you. It takes your attacker by surprise and you feel his grip relax just enough. A sharp elbow to his abdomen has him letting you go. You fall to your knees as you attempt to run away. The car skids to a stop and you hear the voice you’d only dreamt of hearing again.

“Y/N!!” Dean yells as he runs at your attacker. He tackles him, knocking the knife from his hand as the two men hit the ground. Mary runs to your side as Sam runs to help Dean. You weren’t sure why. Dean had the upper hand, sitting atop the man, punching him in the face. Repeatedly. That’s when you realize, Sam wasn’t helping Dean. He was pulling him off.

“Dean, it’s over,” he tells his brother. “He’s dead.” Mary helps you to your feet, examining you as Dean makes his way over, wiping his bloodied hand off on his shirt.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean asks, taking your face in his hands. He looks you over and frowns at the knick on your neck. Running his thumb over it gently, he wipes the blood away.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, taken aback by his gentleness and concern. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a crushing hug. You gasp and freeze before slowly returning the embrace. Mary touches Sam’s shoulder and nods back towards the dead body. They slip away to deal with that and give you two some privacy. “Dean…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I put you in so much danger,” he says, letting you go. “I didn’t know we were being watched. I didn’t know.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” You ask.

“The British Men of Letters. Turns out it was a join or die type of situation. They’ve been watching all of us for a while now. They knew about you before you ever knew anything,” he explains. “They had brainwashed Mom but we just got her back. Sam and Jody led a raid of the Brits’ headquarters. Saw the pictures of you, of us here. We got here as quick as we could.” He winces now and you finally register how badly beaten he looks.

“What happened to you?” You ask, knowing your attacker hadn’t even gotten one good swing in. He limps over to his car and leans back against the hood.

“Grenade launcher,” he says, pointing to his leg. “Bad fight with Ketch.” He points to the rest of himself.

“Gre...huh??”

“They locked us in the bunker. Shut off the air supply. It was our only way out. And it was freaking awesome,” he says, smirking now. You roll your eyes at him and try not to smile, fighting back that familiar feeling he always gave you.

“Well, thank you. I’ll be more careful. Try not to close up by myself anymore,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He nods slightly, watching you.

“Or you could come with me,” he says. You scoff a laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Dean. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“What?” He asks. You shrug, trying to give him a confident smile.

“I’m officially relieving you of the burden of my safety. Whatever happens to me, happens. Don’t let it get to your conscious,” you tell him, looking around for your purse.

“Y/N,” Dean says. He watches you walk over and pick up the discarded item. You throw it over your shoulder and look back at him. “Come here,” he says gently, holding a hand out.

“You don’t want me. I know that. Please stop this,” you say, looking down at the gravel under your feet. You hear him sigh and look up as he starts to limp towards you. “No. Stop. You’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes now before taking your face in his hands for the second time tonight. This time his eyes aren’t searching for injuries. They’re searching for answers.

“Why would you think I don’t want you?” He asks, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. You get lost in the green of his eyes for a moment before the memory of that night comes back.

“I heard you with Mary. You said I wouldn’t see or hear from you again. And I haven’t since I left the bunker that day,” you tell him, hating to relive those harsh words. He nods, his hands leaving your face. They don’t go far though, immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“Is that all you heard?” He asks. You nod, wishing he’d just let you go home instead of dragging this out. “I didn’t leave you alone because I didn’t want you. I left you alone because I needed to keep you safe, because I want you too much, because I care about you too much.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare up at him. You had to have died and gone to heaven for him to be saying these things, the things you wanted him to say so desperately.

“You were so mad when you saw me…”

“Because I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. Hunting, especially the things we end up hunting, it’s dangerous,” he pauses and closes his eyes. “I had just made a deal with a reaper to die. Again. I’d already resolved myself to the fact I wasn’t going to get to say a proper goodbye to you, tell you how I felt, how happy you’ve made me over the past year…and then you were there, right smack in the middle of everything. I was furious, yea, but not at you. I was mad at myself. I never shoulda came back here to begin with.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the feel of his hands on your waist. That was good. That was right.

“I fell for you so hard that first night I came in for dinner. I was just supposed to come in, pick up something for me and Sam, and head back to the bunker. But when I walked in and saw you…I had to know you,” he recalls. “I thought a couple of visits couldn’t hurt. I could just be a customer, see you, talk to you. Maybe you’d eventually learn my name. That third time I came in and saw you getting ready to leave I was devastated. So I asked you to join me, thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell. You’d just gotten off work. Surely you wanted to get out of there and get home. But you stayed and you sat with me and…I knew I was in trouble.” You’re crying now. You don’t know exactly when the tears started but they were falling quickly. Dean brings one hand up and wipes at each of your cheeks gently. “And then you gave me your number…man, I almost called you from the booth,” he laughs. You do as well, reaching up and taking his hand. You press a kiss into his palm.

“I never knew what we were. I was so confused,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry. I kept going back and forth. I told myself it was too dangerous, you were safer as my friend. But then I’d get you alone, in my car and…” His hand tightens slightly on your hip and he pulls you impossibly closer. “I wanted you so desperately.” His voice dropped lower and his eyes bore into your own.

“I wanted you too,” you just manage to whisper. His forehead is touching yours now. Your eyes flutter close as his breath washes over your face.

“No more secrets,” he says before finally bringing his lips in to meet yours. This isn’t a gentle, chaste first kiss. Your lips move desperately against his as your arms wrap around his neck. It was everything you’d imagined and nothing like you could have dreamed all at the same time. His lips were chapped but gentle. He tasted of mint and whiskey. The way his hands moved over your back, one sliding just beneath your shirt to caress the skin at the small of your back, was intoxicating. You force yourself to pull away, remembering that his family was in the near vicinity.

“I have one secret,” you admit. He looks down at you expectantly. “I freaking hate this job.” He laughs and shakes his head, kissing you once more quickly.

“Sweetheart, I got bad news. That ain’t a secret,” he teases. You laugh too as Dean looks over your shoulder at the diner. “This place is gonna go under without your pie. It’s the only reason anyone comes back.”

“Including you?” You ask. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks back down at you.

“Why do you think I’m keeping you at the bunker?” He asks. Laughing again, you try to step out of his arms but they only tighten around you. His face is suddenly serious again as he watches you. “But only if you’re absolutely sure. I can’t stress enough how dangerous this life is.” You smile as you take his face in your hands.

“Dean,” you start. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, Dean kisses you once again.

You leave your diner key in the door and a note taped to the glass.

I quit. -Y/N

****

Tags: @roseblue373

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #sam winchester #mary winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #cas #castiel #right where you left me #dean x waitress

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aimasup · 9 months ago

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Spoilers for The March 2024 Welcome Home Update, LONG post warning:

The Eddie Scene

Let's establish two realities: The Neighbourhood (theirs) and The Show (the humans').

(The third is ours, here, actually real, no black gunk and Welcome Home is just a really cool fictional horror project. Irrelevant, just wanted to bring us down to earth)

I like to believe it's an unaware Wreck-It-Ralph situation: The Neighbourhood exists as The Show because that's how they live and what they were created for.

They have a happy home in the commercials and episodes, interviews with humans and playfully leaning on the fourth wall (via Narrator). And when Playfellow Workshop had a really good influential show, they quite literally brought these puppets to life, perhaps too much.

That's where the trouble comes in; we don't know if the puppets being sentient was ever revealed to the public, or what the black rot even is yet. Personally I can't really even guess how much the other puppets know at the moment, not even Home. All we know is that Wally was the first to 'wake up', likely.

So I'm just gonna say what I think about the Eddie segment at the end of the commercial compilation from his perspective alone (bravo to the voice actors and artists my god).

The Neighbourhood...

The Show.

Here's what I assume: both in the Neighbourhood and The Show, Eddie is being given a break from working so hard. Because I believe the script/special was supposed to end here:

Eddie Dear was happy.

[calm jazz music as the title card fades in] And a Happy Homewarming to one and all! Ho Ho Ho!!

End.

Because it makes no sense why The Show staff would spend extra resources to give the puppet Not Quirky Anxiety and end their Christmas special on a worrying note for general audiences.

I think The Show staff wrapped up that scene and left to go check on the rest of the set or something, and the Eddie puppet was left there, alone in Wally's room set because its job is done. Except it isn't, and Eddie became aware somehow.

He sees Home, his friend, and something isn't right

I don't know what this is: my first thought was that it was Home's hand crank, and Eddie was seeing but not understanding the puppets behind the scenes

"Sources say, however, that this puppet’s (Home's) eyes could move through a hand crank on the other side of the prop facing away from the camera."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

His friend's eyes look dead but they're moving, I thought. But looking at it again, it looks more like a microphone stand a Show staff is holding? Some sort of set equipment. Speaking of the set

Wally's room is too big and leads to nowhere. Is this a visual representation for Eddie's mental state? Did they literally turn the lights off on set? Or can he not see everything right now because his poor fictional brain can't handle our reality just yet?

His hands are fuzzy but there's something in them. Something was under his skin just now. They don't feel like his hands.

"Eddie was a live-hand puppet who required two puppeteers to operate."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

I imagine he's in a limbo of awareness, he's seeing so many things and not quite understanding what they are, and he's getting more lost and panicked

Can you imagine how overstimulating it must be to go from a clean, happy children's fantasy reality to a world with the laws of physics?

The clock's ticking doesn't quiet down and it's constant. He's sweating when nothing is wrong (?). Gravy was poured on the tree ornament, he's always helped do that, but now it's dripping onto the floor and it's making a gross mess. Little things like that don't have consequences unless the script calls for it. Eddie doesn't know that, and especially he's freaked out by the breathing and the heartbeat.

Maybe it's Home's, or his own, or both, idk.

What's curious is that Frank and Sally are fine and talking about the day's events. This means that Eddie should've been fine after the episode too, relaxed like normal, but he didn't get to. He probably didn't even know when they got there or when Sally left.

This image right here? I think it symbolises the scary clash between both realities by now.

2 (Eddie and Wally) or 4 (counting Sally and Home) out of 9 neighbours being aware is too many. Frank wasn't supposed to have to comfort Eddie. The episode was supposed to end and Eddie can see all of it.

(and yeah maybe romance is an additional factor here)

We don't know if people remember seeing this scene on their televisions. Maybe the episode ended as normal for them. The cameras weren't rolling, so currently, we only get to witness the puppets' descent into decay because someone behind the television is Letting The Neighbourhood In, bit by bit.

Maybe we'll get to see all the other puppets go through the same awareness crisis as the website keeps updating. Personally, I don't think there's an ulterior motive for Home, nor do I think any of the puppets are under strict supervision to behave a certain way for filming episodes, like celebrities.

What freaks me out is that they banter with the narrator and do commercials for real products. They're aware of the fourth wall but only because the fourth wall let them be aware. And it even got me thinking about the nature of existing as a concept (they're fictional characters. they don't really exist? Not in the same way individual humans do anyway. They aren't really supposed to belong to themselves.)

Sorry this turned into ramble rubbish, these are just my thoughts, could be entirely wrong about everything. Welcome Home is just super neat and the amount of effort gone into it shows. Lemme know what yall think, kudos if you read this far

For your troubles 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍯🥛🍵☕🍶

Extra note: I don't think they require the puppeteers to function outside of episodes either. They just live their lives chilling, don't even know there's a Show. Maybe there's an explanation but for now I'm content with 'it's magic'.

That being said I've seen other theories about the peas and the isolation of Eddie specifically those are real neat

#my post #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home spoilers #eddie dear #derealization #personal stuff #welcome home theory

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becauseimanicequeen · 3 months ago

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Clocks, Watches, and Time in 4 Minutes

We're halfway into 4 Minutes and I thought I would write a bit about the different ways they use clocks, watches, and time in the show (so far).

I've already written about time a lot in my timelines post, but I just can't seem to stop thinking about this, so here I am... Again.

We all know time matters in this show. What I love about it, though, is the attention to detail. Because the details matter. They're being super intentional with them.

Don't believe me? Then let me show you.

When Great picks up Korn's phone at the bar and tries to open it (in ep 4), it says 09:10 pm:

But, the small clock at the top left on Korn's phone says 11:02 when Great snoops through it:

That's just Great continuing to see this anomaly when he's alone (it also tells us he's still at his 11:02 stage in this episode).

But then, when he sends the text about Nan's location to his own phone, Korn's phone still says 11:02 at the top:

But the text Great just sent to his own phone was sent at 09:12 pm because the phone knows what time it is even if Great can't see it:

See?

It's about the details of this show!

All the clocks and watches matter in 4 Minutes, not just the obvious or big ass ones they focus on to capture our attention. All the clocks/watches matter because they're intentionally set by the crew (I'm a thousand percent sure about this).

Now, let's look at some different ways they use time in the show.

So far (in chronological order), we've seen time used for showing:

Cold openings

Great's time anomaly (11:00-11:02 so far)

Great's 4-minute phenomenon (which Den calls it in his research)

Different timelines/realities in scenes that follow each other chronologically

Digital vs analog clocks/watches

Differences in 24-hour and 12-hour settings on digital clocks

The 4-minute time limit

Different timelines/realities in the same scene

Let's go through these one by one and hope that I can work within the image limit (seriously tumblr, I need more than 30 images per post, lol).

Cold Openings

The first two episodes open with events that happen outside the events of the rest of their episodes.

The first episode starts with Tyme getting shot and a patient in the ICU having a cardiac arrest (whom I, and many others, believe to be Great).

The second episode opens with Tonkla beating the shit out of someone with a rock.

Both these openings are isolated events that aren't connected to any of the bigger timelines or other events, yet.

Great's Time Anomaly

This is every time he sees 11:00-11:02 (which is as far as the clock has come at this point).

It started at 11:00 in the 1st episode:

Then it turned to 11:01 in the 2nd episode:

And 11:02 as Great was watching the clock in the 3rd episode:

So far, he's still at his 11:02 stage (which we saw on Korn's phone in the 4th episode). But I think the ominous ticking will continue in the next episode (or the 6th episode at the very latest).

Great's 4-Minute Phenomenon

Great has had 6 4-minute phenomenons (4MP) so far:

Hitting Manee (ep 1)

Bumping into Tyme at the hospital (ep 1)

Seeing Title beat the shit out of Dome (ep 2)

When he had a conversation with Tyme at Uni (ep 3)

His and Tyme's argument at the hospital (ep 4)

Seeing Samarn shoot Nan (ep 4)

The first 4 in the list above include clocks to show that Great is jumping back 4 minutes (I will only show 2 of them because I need to save images, lol).

When he arrives at the hospital in the 1st episode:

After he's bumped into Tyme:

After he's sent back:

When he walks away from Tyme after their conversation at Uni:

After he's been sent back:

The last two in the list above don't include clocks at all, probably because Great (and we as viewers) know what's going on when he has his 4MPs in the 4th episode. We don't need it explained again.

Different Timelines/Realities in Scenes that Follow Each Other Chronologically

I've written about this already in my timelines post, but I will summarize it here.

Chronologically, the scene where Korn is with Tonkla in the 1st episode is followed by the family dinner, which is followed by Korn dropping Great off at home.

Interestingly enough, Korn arrives at Tonkla's place at 07:15-ish pm:

Tonkla wants a second round at 08:55 pm, just as Korn's dad calls and wants Korn home for dinner:

Then, when Korn drops Great off at his condo after dinner, Korn's watch says 07:15-ish:

While the clock on Great's phone says 07:13:

This is all meant to be the same day Great hit Manee. Everyone (Great, Korn, their dad, and Great's mom) is wearing the same clothes throughout these scenes that happen on the same day. Yet, the times are different.

(Technically, Korn drops Great off at the same time as he arrives at Tonkla's place, which is super interesting.)

Digital vs Analog Clocks/Watches

I've already gathered the digital and analog clocks/watches from the first 2 episodes in a separate post (including the ones we've seen in the teaser and trailer).

I won't add images of them here (since I need to save images for the rest of the post, lol), but you can see them throughout this post.

Both digital and analog clocks/watches have a prominent place in the show, even though the digital clocks are more obvious and attention-grabbing.

I haven't yet figured out if there's a pattern behind the use of either in certain scenes or situations. Analog watches can obviously be a luxury item, so Great and Korn's watches are more than likely used for that reason as well. But other than that...

Great use and is surrounded by both digital and analog clocks and watches. Korn always wears analog clocks, but his times are shown on his phone as well. I'm pretty sure Tyme's watch is a digital one. The clocks at the hospital are digital (I can't remember if I've seen an analog clock there). Yet, the staff at the hospital have a mix of digital and analog watches.

So... I don't know. But at least they show a variety of clocks so it doesn't get boring, lol.

Differences in 24-hour and 12-Hour Settings on Digital Clocks

I've written about this already in my timelines post, but I will summarize it here.

The hospital seems to have a 24-hour setting in some cases, as we saw from the image of the clock on the front desk saying 13:10 when Great arrived (image above), but not in other cases even though this is in the evening:

Since it's the same hospital, I would find it strange if the clocks had different settings (or perhaps that's just me, lol). Perhaps, then, this is a way to show different timelines/realities (since Manee is, more than likely, dead in the real timeline/reality).

Interestingly, Great seems to have both settings on his phone as well (or, the phone is showing the time as 12 hours wrong).

The clock on his phone, when Korn drops him off after their family dinner (image above), says 07:13 while his phone at the hospital shows 13:14 (image above) and 16:33 and 16:29 when having his conversation with Tyme at Uni (images above).

His phone is clearly set on a 24-hour setting, yet, it says 07:13 at night? Obviously, he could've changed the setting after that night. But it could also indicate that different timelines/realities are present.

The 4-Minute Time Limit

This showed up in the 3rd episode in a vision Great had of himself and a mystery woman (who we now know is Lukwa) in a gallery:

It also shows up in the 4th episode as Lukwa talks to Den about this gallery and the mystery man (who we know is Great):

And we learned (even though most of us knew it already) that this is the limit of time a brain can survive without oxygen.

Different Timelines/Realities in the Same Scene

The clocks/watches were screaming at me in the 4th episode, to a point where I couldn't ignore them even if I wanted to (which I didn't). I've written about this in my timelines post already, but I'll summarize my thoughts about it here.

Korn and Great were in different times in the scene are the bar. Korn started the scene at 06:50 pm:

While Great's watch showed 03:20-ish when he arrived at the bar (after my ramble in my timelines post about this, I thought it was most logical if this was am for Great considering the scenes that follow):

Great's time is consistent to him as it turns to 03:50-ish while they're still in the middle of drinking:

While Korn's time stays consistent with him, which could be seen when Great grabbed Korns phone and it showed 09:10 pm when he tried to open it (image above).

It's also interesting to note that, if we follow Great's time from the bar, then he's kissing Tyme in the tent at 02:00 pm:

This would mean that Korn's time, at this point, is 05:40 am, which (according to my calculations in my timelines post) is the same time Great ditches Korn at the bar to go save Nan.

(This could mean that everything that happened in Great's timeline/reality after he left the bar didn't happen in Korn's.)

Anyway...

Korn and Great exist in completely different times/realities even though they're in the same scene together. And I absolutely loved that detail with those clocks/watches. That whole bar scene was heaven for my brain.

Things are definitely changing when it comes to timelines/realities in the show, and I'm on the edge of my seat with every new episode.

I can't wait to see what time-fuckery we'll get in the next one.

Is it Friday, yet?

#4 minutes #4 minutes the series #thai ql #thai bl #thai series #my shit

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1moreff-creator · 2 months ago

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EP 13 Revision: Trying to Solve the DRDT CH2 Murder

Back in my bullshit I go! So, episode 13, what a chapter! Really made my old murder theory seem unlikely, so let’s see if there are any convincing alternatives, shall we? As a heads up, most of my theory actually remains the same, a lot of this is just me going over some other possible alternatives. Although I’m also going to talk about what happened to Ace as well, and that theory has changed quite a bit.

Spoilers up to CH2 EP13. CW Murder, hanging, strangulation, asphyxiation, Eden!Culprit, Ace!Culprit, Nico!AceAttacker, blood, mention of Xander losing his eye.

You don't exactly need to know what my previous theory was to understand this post past the “Murder Method” title, but it might help, so here's Levi!Accomplice anyways. Speaking of:

How Dead We Talking?

Levi: In that case, we should be suspicious of those who *do* have an alibi in the evening but not in the morning.

Levi: Then, did the killer perhaps use some sort of mechanism to hang Arei?

These lines in particular, especially combined with some other dubious lines in the past, make me very doubtful Levi!Accomplice is the right answer. An obvious presumption of this theory is that Levi would want Eden to win the trial; if he didn’t, he’d just call her out and explain everything. Even if he just gave her the fish, I think he’d have said that by now. But these lines have Levi actively pointing people towards the right culprit (if it’s Eden) or the right method. You could read this as him choosing to betray Eden after Hu’s speech, yet still hesitant to fully reveal his involvement. However, given he willingly admitted to his secret because he considers honesty good and wants to be a good person, it seems weird that he’d keep being disingenuous and hiding evidence from the cast.

There’s also this statement:

Levi: But it is a “good” thing to make sure someone else doesn’t die, even if I personally do not care about the outcome.

Of course, you could read this as him wanting to save the life of the person he considers the “most good,” that being Eden, but the problem is he also admitted to seeing other participants (such as David) as good. I’m not fully opposed to stretching dialogue to fit certain theories (I still believe venus-is-thinking’s explanation of Eden’s breakdown after the Arturo story in the trial works well enough not to disqualify Eden as a potential culprit, for example), but I have my limits. A lot of what Levi said in his speech and beyond reads a bit too strangely for me to really consider Levi!Accomplice as likely as I once did.

Is it 100% dead? No. There is the ticking clock motif in the background, and some of Eden’s reactions to Levi’s speech could be read as pointing towards this, but I feel like that might just be a “foils” thing? Like, the person with quote unquote “bad” thoughts that does good things, contrasted with the person with quote unquote “good” thoughts that does a pretty bad thing (if Eden killed Arei).

(Disclaimer: there’s no such thing as “good” and “bad” thoughts and feelings, it’s your actions that determine whether you’re good or not, Levi’s a good person even if he has low empathy, you know this)

In any case, while there’s a world out there where Levi!Accomplice is still the right answer, just in case, let me throw out a few more theories on how this could work. Unfortunately, I can’t come up with any answer that solves every mystery of the case as well as Levi!Accomplice does, which is why I still consider it possible, but I’ll do my best.

Murder Method - Hey, I Wasn't That Wrong!

The things discussed in this chapter halfway confirmed a lot of what I speculated about the method itself (assuming Teruko isn’t wrong, but I feel the trial would flow a bit weird if she presents one relatively good theory and then backtracks). The killer used the spinny thing as a pulley to pull Arei up to the ceiling, using the rafters and the seesaw (yo the seesaw WAS important, Korekiyo fans winning!) to set up the mechanism. After Arei was high enough, they tied the rope to one of the handlebars so it would tense before Arei hit the ground, and let go. To make sure her neck would break instantly, they also attached water jugs to her in order to increase her effective weight. To avoid the rope sliding off the handlebars, they used tape with a sandpaper-y texture that makes it easier to grip. In other words, the tape from the gym. It is also implied the killer splashed Arei with water, either accidentally or to hide her body temperature.

I got… most of this right. I didn't catch the seesaw thing, nor the splashing with water thing, and I didn't fully realize the purpose of the tape, plus I thought the killer would have used a second piece of rope attached to the swing set as a "stopper" instead of tying one long piece of rope… but the main pieces are there!

The last few details haven't been discussed yet, but I still think they're solid. To get the rope over the rafters, they tied one end to something like the ball of clothes (or any equivalent) and threw it over the said rafters. On the way, they accidentally hit the lights, displacing them and causing it to break and start flickering.

(How many posts can I fit this image into? Watch it be wrong, too)

The rest is simple. Arei's wrists (and possibly feet) were bound by the tape after something happened to scuff the floor. That's actually a sticking point of the old theory: figuring out exactly how those specific scuff marks would form.

I've always just taken them as evidence of some kind of struggle, but how do they form? Well, they look like either tire tracks (which I'm gonna assume are impossible) or, perhaps, clawing at the floor.

Since the old "struggle" no longer applies, I'm going to take a shot in the complete dark and speculate, with practically no evidence, that the struggle is: The killer managed to tackle Arei to the ground from behind, Arei falling stomach first, and either strangled her with the rope or smothered her with the ball of clothes (because evidently I just like to throw this thing at any unsolved mysteries I can, sometimes literally) until she lost consciousness, but no more. Arei clawed at the floor while this was happening, generating the scuff marks.

(I am assuming the rope is long enough to do this even with the mechanism already set up, which it should be)

Now, you might be thinking that there’s a method I’m leaving out, that being the turpentine. Since DRDT’s turpentine can apparently knock people out, isn’t it possible she was knocked out with it?

Well, actually. If the method Teruko describe is accurate (which for the purposes of this post, I’ll assume it is), Arei cannot have been knocked out with turpentine.

Why? Because of the marks on her wrists. The ones that imply they were bound by tape at some point.

Why is this a problem? Simply put, turpentine’s too good to need the tape around Arei’s wrists. In the Ace case, Ace was unconscious for quite a while; however long it took to set up the murder mechanism, and a little after Eden and Teruko entered the room. Translated to Arei, if the killer knocked her out with turpentine in the playground, they would easily be able to put the noose around her neck and do the pulley trick before she woke up, making the tape redundant.

This leaves us with three options if Arei was knocked out with turpentine. Either Arei was knocked out outside the playground, at which point you’d need a different explanation for the scuff marks on the floor; the killer didn’t know how long turpentine induced unconsciousness lasted; or the killer was extra cautious for some reason. Notably, those last two would imply the killer is different from the Ace attacker, since Ace’s wrists were never bound as far as we can tell, and at that point you need to explain how they got the turpentine in the first place.

Compare that to unconsciousness induced by asphyxiation. Although it could take up to two minutes to knock Arei unconscious, consciousness is regained around ten seconds after pressure is relieved in cases of asphyxiation. That’s too quick for comfort, since if Arei regains consciousness before the rope takes her off the floor, she would easily be able to slide the noose out of her neck.

That means the killer would need to tie her hands to make sure they could pull off the pulley trick without issues, which explains the marks on the wrists.

A note on the asphyxiation thing; I think even a weaker person could realistically pull this off if they caught Arei by surprise. From what I understand, it’s difficult to meaningfully resist against strangulation from behind, so even if Arei is stronger than her killer, it’s a plausible method. However, I could be wrong about this. It might shock you to know this, but I'm not very well versed in the logistics of murdering people.

Also, you might say that that's insane. Why do all the mechanism stuff if they had already asphyxiated her unconscious? And while that is a very fair question, there is no way to eliminate it. Keep in mind Arei's wrists were bound at some point, but the mechanism was still used. No matter how the tape got around Arei's wrists, there will always be a time when the killer could have killed her in a very simple manner (eg stabbing her, strangling her, bludgeoning), and still chose to complicate the method.

There are a few reasons that could be, but I currently believe this is related to what Teruko brings up at the end of EP 13. The mechanism is similar to the one used to try to kill Ace. This way, the killer could point to the superficial similarities as a way to pin the blame on Nico. Or the killer straight up is Nico and they're just obsessed with this method for some reason lol.

Oh, also, Arei’s missing a glove. I assume the killer removed it to better apply the tape on the wrists and just… have it in their pocket, I guess. I really don’t know what to make of this thing.

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Side Note: The Ace Case

I said in my first reaction to EP13 that I would review the Ace case method. Since I don’t feel like making a separate post, I’ll tackle it here. We basically got one piece of evidence regarding this: Teruko believes there was either a hanging or a pulley involved.

Now, you might know this case is actually lot harder to figure out than the Arei one. The first time I tried to come up with a method, alongside venus-is-thinking, accirax and thebadjoe, we went kinda insane. There's a lot of really weird evidence in the short investigation we got, which led us to creating gym-wide wire circuits, crucifying Ace, giving Eden the turpentine, hypothesising about wire yo-yos and on-off switches for the fans, and who knows what else. As fun as that was, there was surprisingly little hanging and pulleying in that thread, and now that Teruko's implied the Arei method is somewhat similar to the Ace method, we might be looking at not-great answers.

And because this method is so difficult, I’m not very confident in the answer I’m about to give. I think it’s better than what I had before, but there’s still a few questions. I’m not too bothered by this though, since we’ll get answers in a few days anyways.

First thing to clear up: I firmly believe Nico did everything by themselves. The killer needed the turpentine to knock out Ace; Nico never denied taking the turpentine when accused, and straight up admitted they “made a serious attempt on Ace’s life.”

Rose: They even lied to and stole from me to commit murder. Out of everyone here, they’re the least innocent.

Nico: I—! I didn’t kill Arei! I swear!

Charles: But did you not intentionally try to make a serious attempt on Ace’s life? Answer honestly.

Nico: Y… Yes…

Then, when speaking about what they did, they always speak in first person singular, never giving any indication there was anyone else involved.

Nico: I didn’t… think about [the trial after the Ace thing]… I… I never should have… done that…

Not to mention they were in the gym, alone, with their cloak off, and they had the most motive for killing Ace. They’re the only person we know for sure had the opportunity to grab the turpentine, they said they were going to kill Ace before this happened, etc. You can certainly twist all of this in some way to make Nico not the sole culprit, and I respect those theories, but for me, the most compelling explanation is the one that makes the least amount of assumptions. That the guy that admitted to trying to kill Ace and implied they did it on their own, tried to kill Ace on their own. Occam’s Razor, and all that.

Plus, if there’s anyone else to blame, most people point to Hu. But…

Hu: It is not and never will be your decision as to what happens with our lives.

Note: The next part has been slightly edited, as I feel my original wording was poor

I don’t see Hu as the Ace attacker. There’s too many lines that (in my opinion) you have to really stretch to make it plausible, and while I’m not entirely opposed to doing such things (spoilers, I still believe Eden!Culprit), I’m only fond of doing them when there’s physical evidence to back up the claim. The dialogue can be interpreted in different ways, but I just do not see any real evidence Hu was involved in either crime this chapter.

Edit over

Yes, Hu’s wire is there, but Nico already stole one custom weapon from a friend, why wouldn’t they steal/borrow a second one? Even if they didn’t straight up ask for the wire, Hu claims she and Nico ate breakfast in Nico’s room, so it’s not difficult to assume Nico could have gone into Hu’s room at some point and gotten the wire that way. It’s also true Hu never calls them out on this, but that’s because she never saw the crime scene; even if she knows Nico had the wire, she probably wouldn’t immediately assume it was used in the murder.

Again, theories where Nico isn’t the sole culprit are perfectly valid, but I personally don’t believe them. I may get proven wrong by the end of the week, but oh well.

Aside from that, let’s make a quick recap of the evidence we have. Ace’s body and wounds; bloodstain on the wall; lone wire; fan wire; broken fan; moved benches; stool (brought from storage?); broom (pulled right out of Ace’s ass-); fallen weight rack; isolated weights; non-functioning fan; clean pull-up bar; Rose’s and Teruko’s account (Nico took the turpentine and used it to knock out Ace); banging noise; Nico’s missing cloak.

(Btw; I talk about the lone wire and the fan-wire as two completely separate things, since it makes things easier. Just assume Nico broke the wire before the murder attempt)

The first thing to note is that hanging Ace actually solves a particular point of contention from the first thread; Ace’s wounds. Because of the way Ace always grabs the front of his neck in the sprites after waking, some of us thought there were only injuries on the front. Meanwhile, others posited there were wounds all around Ace’s neck, based on the sprite and the blood on the wall.

But hanging offers an interesting middle ground. The wire tensing around Ace’s neck could cause injuries on both sides, but if Ace was slumped over, the injuries on the front would be deeper because gravity. I think? I’m no expert on hanging, might need Whit to confirm that one for me. But it’s conceivable, so I’ll go with it.

But we can’t just hang him simply. If you check the first thread, you’ll remember that by far the weirdest piece of evidence is the blood pattern on the wires. It stops and starts in weird places, as seen below:

This is difficult because it means the wire wasn’t continuously wrapped around Ace’s neck as you might expect. However, you might also remember one of the only explanations I have for the lone wire’s blood pattern; a noose pattern.

If the lone wire is tied in a way where Ace’s neck bleeds over the know but not the noose, the pattern is explained.

But how do we work a noose into the hanging? Well, a yo-yo. I’m kidding, but only kinda; you can put the noose around the isolated weights to weigh down Ace, making the hanging… more fatal? Look, I don’t know why Nico did half this shit, okay?

The big thing that’s left are the actual logistics of hanging Ace. It’s a lot harder than you might assume, and while I’m probably vastly overcomplicating it, I wanted to put the broom somewhere and this might be the bests place for it. So, taking inspiration from badjoe’s idea of using the broom to stabilize Ace, my own yo-yo theory, and venus-accirax’s general idea of crucifixion, I present to you:

A brand new murder diagram!

(Btw, didn’t mention it, but the fan can’t be spinning for this to work. Either there’s an off switch or Nico just broke it with the broom and then put it back more or less)

As you can see, the main trick is putting the broom across Ace’s jacket, going from one sleeve to the other stick-first, and then using the wires to lift it up (first the one on the pull up bar, then the one on the fan), wrapping them around Ace’s neck in the process. This allows Nico to keep Ace upright and with his neck as close to the ceiling as possible while putting the wires where they need to be. The lone wire is attached to the pull-up bar. Not pictured is the stool, which Nico probably needed to pull this off, btw.

After setting this up, it’s just a matter of pushing the broom out of Ace’s jacket. This would cause Ace to fall, tensing the wires (I’m hoping the pull-up bar is higher on the wall than it looks :v) and toppling the bench he was on. Sort of. The exact location of these things escapes me a bit.

After that… it’s possible Ace falling immediately caused the fan to fall, or the fan held for a moment, and this moment is when Nico got their cloak out of the gym. Maybe?

In any case, the fan collapses, the lone wire rips the tape out of the pull-up bar as it flies off, and Ace falls backwards. I’m hoping he’d be close enough to the wall to fall in a way that makes the back of his neck stain the wall with his blood.

When that happens, Nico starts to panic, grabbing the lone wire, putting the weights off to the side (I don’t know how they got there), and looking at Ace’s body just as Teruko and Eden enter the gym.

That’s more or less it. There’s obviously a few problems with this, and it’s probably significantly more complicated than the real answer, but it’s solid enough that some of it might be right. I just want to explain the blood on the wires, man.

One question is why the left fan isn’t spinning. This depends on how turpentine works in DRDT. If it emits fumes that you have to inhale for a while before passing out, Nico turning off the left fan (be it with an off switch or by breaking it with the broom) could be a way for them to make sure the fumes don’t dissipate. When Ace enters the gym, the turpentine could be open and hidden, in a way that after a while, Ace inhales all the fumes necessary.

However, it’s also possible turpentine works more like how chloroform is usually depicted. In that case, it’s possible Nico used their cloak as a rag to apply the turpentine, then took it out of the gym to avoid inhaling any fumes themselves.

Because i’m case you haven’t noticed, Nico’s cloak is sorta like Arei’s glove, in that I have no idea where they went, and thus can’t really imagine how they fit into everything.

What is with DRDT characters and mysteriously losing their clothes during murders?

It’s also physically dubious; not enough that I really think it’s 100% impossible, but still. And I have no idea what happened to the weight rack beyond “there might have been a struggle” (which only kinda works, those things are heavy), or why Nico put the weights there…

And I don’t know why Nico did any of this. My pal, please, just fucking stab him next time.

Is this right? Probably not, but I think the general idea is plausible. We’ll find out in a few days just how wrong I was about this, anyways.

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Alright, so for the big question.

Whodunnit?

There are a few important things to consider when it comes to a culprit theory. I’ll outline them here so you can judge your own picks for culprit based on my criteria, though obviously it might be different from yours. Personally, I believe any genuine theory on the culprit must account for the following things:

-Time of Body Manipulation: Because of the swinging and the marks on the wrists, which should fade quickly, Arei’s body must have been hung shortly before it was discovered. Since she’s assumed to have died at around 7:30 AM (yes, there are theories to the contrary, but I can’t address every single possibility here, so I’m just going to take the 7:30 AM time of murder as accurate since it’s what I believe), it’s assumed that’s the time the body was hung. The culprit should probably be someone without an alibi at the time, potentially clearing David, Veronika, J, Hu and Nico.

Potential Workarounds:

+Fake Alibi: Applicable mainly to Hu and Nico. But would either of them be willing to die for the other? Also, Nico agreed with Teruko that David was acting suspicious at the end of EP11. If they’re the culprit, casting doubt on David is a bad move. If they’re an accomplice and want the culprit to win, it’s a bad move. If they’re an accomplice and don’t want the culprit to win, they’d just say who the culprit is. There’s probably other examples like this, but that’s just off the top of my head.

I really don’t think Hu or Nico did this, in case you can’t tell :v

+Third Party: A third party could have hung the body after the murder. But given this third party can’t be David or Veronika (again assuming 7:30 AM as the time of death), and I genuinely don’t know who else would do this, I don’t find this likely.

-Time of Fish Disappearance: Nico claimed none of the fish were missing the last time they fed them, after having dinner the afternoon before the murder. At face value, and assuming Nico ate around the same time Hu and Eden did, the fish would have disappeared between 7 and 10 PM, as the relax room was closed between 10PM and 8AM. And judging from how Teruko talked about the situation at the start of the trial, it seems unlikely that the fish were taken after 8AM. This would mean Eden, Hu, Charles and Whit cannot have taken the fish without some workaround. J, Veronika, Teruko and Arturo have alibis starting at least at 7:30 PM, so maybe they could have taken them, maybe not.

Possible Workarounds:

+Early Nico Dinner: We don’t know when Nico ate dinner, and according to a quick Google search, Americans are fucking insane and, on average, eat dinner around 6:00~6:30 PM.

Genuinely what. I eat dinner at 9:00 PM usually and that’s on the low end of the spectrum for my country. When I’m with family, I eat at like 10:00~10:30 PM. Are you US dwellers good? Deeply unserious country, I tell you.

With that aside, you get the idea. If Nico ate dinner at that time, practically every alibi given goes out the window, except Charles and Whit I believe. This would mean Nico didn’t eat with Hu and Eden, but neither mentioned them in the original alibis, so take that as you will.

+Fake Alibis/Nico!Accomplice: A lot of these alibis are just two people. It’s not outright impossible Charles and Whit, Hu and Eden, or Arturo and J are working together for a fake alibi. Well, maybe not the last one :v Alternatively, getting Nico to lie about the amount of fish they fed would work; the fish could have gone missing before Nico claims they did. I don’t find this particularly plausible, but it’s an option.

+Third Party/Arei: Someone other than the killer brought the fish to the playground, be it Arei or a third party. Arei could be plausible if the note is fake in some way, as the killer could have invited Arei in person and asked for the fish that way, but I find that somewhat unlikely because why give the time if the letter’s fake?

+Fake Fish: The fish in the playground (or maybe the pond, but likely the playground) are fake, either artificial or maybe taken from the kitchen… if that even has minnows as food. Don’t know how this one would work frankly.

+Early Catch: The killer planned to use the fish to hide time of death since the moment they heard the relax room would be closed during nighttime, and put the fish in the jugs before Nico got a chance to count them. If Nico didn’t count them as soon as they saw them in EP2, but rather later, when they first fed them, this gives plenty of time for anyone to pull this off. The killer doesn’t need to have everything planned from the start, just the fish trick.

I wonder if the amount of workarounds I found for this reveals some kind of bias… Who knows.

-BDA Rule: Rule 10; “The BDA will play when three or more people who did not witness the murder discover the body.” This could potentially clear Teruko, Whit and Eden.

Possible Workarounds:

+Third (Fourth?) Party: Someone who did not witness the murder, other than the BDA trio, saw the body before Teruko opened the door to the playground. At this point in the trial, and with David and Veronika having alibis for the time between the murder and the discovery, I doubt this is the case. Do you see why I originally landed on accomplice theory btw, it literally offers a workaround for every potential problem.

+”See No Evil”: If the killer turned their backs after letting go of the spinny thing, and didn’t see the moment Arei’s neck snapped, they may not be considered a “witness.” This could have been intentional, with the killer taking advantage of Teruko’s idea to search in a group of three (and her bad luck of picking just the wrong person) to try and clear themselves; or unintentionally. The killer may have decided to look away just because they didn’t want to see the death. This is especially plausible if the killer felt genuinely bad about what they were doing, which is the most common interpretation of Eden!Culprit.

-Handwriting: The handwriting on the letter doesn’t match Charles’ (custom weapon list), Teruko’s (abomination she calls a list of revealed secrets), Whit’s (he dots the ‘i’s with hearts), or Eden’s (sample in the trial).

Possible Workarounds:

+Fake Handwriting: The handwriting on the note could be fake; Whit wouldn’t dot the ‘i’s with hearts, Charles would write differently. And notably, the sample Eden gives in the trial is in print, while the handwriting in the note is in cursive, so it wouldn’t take any effort for her to fake it.

-Purpose of the method: If the killer really emulated Nico’s method to frame them, they have to know what that method was in the first place. Maybe not figure it out 100%, but they at least need to see the gym to get a basic impression of what the method may have looked like. This would implicate Ace, Teruko, Eden, and possibly the Ace attacker if they’re not Nico. Nico themselves might have also repeated method… Because. Alternatively, the method could have been used for the “See No Evil” BDA workaround, possibly implicating Whit or Eden again.

Possible Workarounds:

+Doesn’t Matter: There is no purpose to the method. The killer chose a pulley system because. I doubt anyone genuinely likes this possibility :v

+Something I haven’t Thought About: What it says in the tin.

-The gym tape: The gym’s tape was still on the floor when Nico left the night of Ace’s attack. At this point, only Teruko, Eden and Ace were on the room. MonoTV then locks down the gym, meaning no one can come in. We see MonoTV open the gym the next morning, and Rose and Teruko are the first to enter. The tape was gone. That, combined with the tape’s sprite disappearing from the background around the time Ace gets up, would heavily imply the tape was taken by either Ace, Teruko or Eden. Since the tape later appears to have been used in the murder, this heavily implicates them.

Possible Workarounds:

+Eden the Unwitting Accomplice: The killer asked Eden to get the tape for them. However, this would mean that Eden would immediately know who the killer is the moment the tape gets identified. It doesn’t work to frame Eden, either, because at that point it’s her word (“[killer] asked me to get it for them!”) vs yours (“nuh uh”). And I don’t care who you are, people will trust Eden’s words over yours. It’s much safer to just get the tape yourself, and everyone has access to the gym. This is a pretty outlandish idea, in my opinion, unless you can come up with some other reason the killer would give Eden (or Ace) for picking up the tape.

+Eden or Ace took it for no reason and returned it later: No evidence of this.

+MonoTV Put it in Storage: Doesn’t explain the sprite disappearance, but even if you ignore that, there is no indication it did that.

+Rose Took it With Sleight of Hand: Why would she mention it to Teruko then. Just grab it, pocket it and shut up. I don’t think this works.

+It’s Not the Gym’s Tape on the Spinny Thing: Then, narratively, why would Rose bring attention to it when she goes to the gym with Teruko?

Alright, I believe that’s all the major things.

Probability Ranking

Zero Chance:

-MonoTV, Arei: There are rules against this.

-Xander, Min: Xander’s dead, Min’s in Mexico (/j).

-Teruko: Protag privilege. Also her handwriting sucks too much for her to fake the note.

-Charles: His necrophobia would prevent him from manipulating the body after killing Arei, which is necessary to string her up on the swing set.

First Assumption: The Murder Happened at 7:30 AM the Day of Body Discovery

Although this isn’t technically 100% confirmed yet, I personally find it really hard to believe that the time of death is different from this. This eliminates:

-David, Veronika, J: Alibis. They have no reason to cover for each other, so they’re out.

-Hu, Nico: I believe Hu is currently the most popular pick for blackened, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why. Yes, she could be lying about the alibi, but if Nico calls her out, it’s curtains. Is Nico really willing to die for Hu? Is Hu willing to kill everyone, including Nico, to escape? Conversely, if Nico’s the blackened, is Hu aware of what she’s doing by faking an alibi? I doubt it given EP12, so she’d be lying because she has faith in Nico. But, at present, I have no reason to believe that. “It’s plausible” isn’t evidence. Sorry, but I cannot for the life of me see Hu or even Nico as culprits anymore.

Second Assumption: MonoTV Didn’t Take the Tape from the Gym

Though technically an assumption, since there is zero evidence it did this, I’ll say it’s an assumption regardless. It leads to:

Third Assumption: The Killer Took The Tape

As stated, if it wasn’t MonoTV, it kinda has to be either Ace or Eden. If the killer didn’t take the tape, that means either they asked Ace/Eden for the tape beforehand (insane, it’s much safer to take the tape yourself) or Eden/Ace took the tape for some undisclosed reason, then someone else asked them for it. But since we don’t know what Eden or Ace would want the tape for other than murder, this also seems unlikely. Thus, assumption number three is assumed, and eliminates…

-Levi, Rose, Arturo, Whit, and all the prior characters (minus Teruko ig). Yes, I believe the tape works as a smoking gun in the same way that the building map worked as a smoking gun against Min.

Notably, all the new characters here also fail to explain why the method was unnecessarily complicated, since none of them know about the Ace murder method. The exception is Whit, where the purpose could be the “See No Evil” technicality, but that comes with a lot of assumptions itself, and there’s other problems with Whit!Culprit (namely, fish).

And Then There Were Two

Ace and Eden are, in my opinion, far and above the likeliest candidates for blackened in this case. Both of them have their issues as theories, but both have things going for them. Let’s compare and contrast!

Point for Eden: Starch on Clothes

One point that’s Eden specific is an idea originated from thebadjoe’s mind. Since starch can be used as fertilizer, it’s possible the starch holding the ball of clothes together came from the enriched formula used in the relax room. If this is the case, the clothes must have been left there in either the first or second night of the second chapter, as putting them there during the third night would make them inaccessible before the murder. And Eden was seen acting suspicious in the dressing room, where clothes are, on the second night.

Eden: W-Who’s there? I know you’ve been following me!

[…]

Eden: Oh, it’s just you, Teruko. What are you doing here?

Like, why’s she so paranoid?

This isn’t disqualifying for Ace, however, as he could have done this the very first night. Alternatively, it’s possible Teruko misidentified the starch. There’s just no evidence for it, as opposed to Eden doing the thing, where there is evidence for it.

Workaround Needed (Eden): “See No Evil”

Eden is part of the BDA crew, meaning there needs to be a workaround for Rule 10. If Levi’s not there to accomplice it up, then “See No Evil” is the only acceptable workaround in my eyes.

Now, I fully believe that, no matter what, Eden probably would turn her back the moment Arei’s neck snapped. She didn’t want to look at Xander’s eye wound, so it’s plausible she would just not want to look when Arei actually died. Which means we just need the “See No Evil” technicality to work from a rules standpoint.

And while it may be a sticking point for some people, I personally think that a combination of MonoTV’s incompetence and Teruko’s bad luck could cause this technicality to exist. Especially given:

Eden [Right before the BDA]: Teruko, wait—

This reaction is best justified by Eden!Culprit imo. If Eden’s the culprit, I don’t think she realized the “See No Evil” technicality. She couldn’t refuse to search with Teruko, obviously, that would make her too suspicious, but she still didn’t want Teruko to open the door because she thought the BDA wouldn’t play, as she would think she’d be counted as a witness. But who knows.

Point Against Eden: Eden’s Strength

By far the biggest sticking point against Eden!Solo under my murder method. She is canonically the weakest in the cast, and yet, she still needs to pull off four important feats of strength; throwing the ball of clothes, subduing Arei, pulleying her up, and hanging her body afterwards.

The thing is, even though Eden is “the weakest,” we… don’t have a good reference of how strong or weak she actually is. Eden’s still an adult woman, she doesn’t have to be hopelessly weak. So, how much do we have to suspend our disbelief on her strength?

Well, pulleys are powerful, and even though we are not dealing with an ideal pulley by any means, I think it’s reasonable Eden would be able to pulley Arei up. Obviously impossible to prove one way or the other, though. I also believe there’s a good argument that she’d be able to subdue Arei because, well…

Apparently, Eden’s a better fighter than any of us could have expected. If she’s able to rip out Xander’s eye with a fork, I think she’d be able to strangle Arei unconscious. Especially given there’s precedent for her making people fall to the ground by taking them by surprise.

(This is a silly point, but it exists)

The big ones are actually the ball of clothes and the hanging of Arei’s corpse on the swing set. Keep in mind she doesn’t just need to throw the ball of clothes (or something like it) over the rafters, but also do it with enough force to displace the lights. That’s kinda difficult. As for the hanging… well, that’s one of the reasons I started believing Levi!Accomplice in the first place, and why I put the broom where I did in the Ace method. It’s pretty difficult to tie a knot on the swing set with Arei as dead weight.

An accomplice does solve this, but with the recent insight we’ve gotten on Levi, I struggle to see anyone actually accomplice-ing it up, frankly.

Ace is stronger than Eden; in fact, he’s one of the stronger in the cast. He would have no issues doing all this, theoretically.

Well, physically, he’d have no issues. Intellectually…

Workaround Needed (Ace): Reason for Murder Method

But, hold on. I said that Ace, if he’s the killer, is probably using the mechanism to frame Nico, right?

Here’s the thing; that would imply he knows what Nico’s mechanism was. Or at least, has a vague idea. However, he was unconscious the entire time he was being attacked.

This would mean that after just waking up and with severe injuries, he managed to get a good enough look at the crime scene that he managed to figure out more or less what Nico did to him. And either he did that instantly, or he grabbed the tape for who knows what reason and later thought back and realized what happened to him.

Look, if Eden’s strength is a point against her, we also have to consider Ace’s intelligence. He is not figuring out what happened to him, and I struggle to think he’d even conceive of the idea of replicating Nico’s method to frame them.

That means he needs a different reason for doing the murder with the pulley method, and I can’t think of any. Not saying it doesn’t exist, just that it really does need a workaround that I am not able to find.

Workaround Needed (Eden): Fish Heist

As stated above, Eden desperately needs some way around the fact she has an alibi for the time the fish presumably disappeared. Here are the possible workarounds, and why they’re iffy.

+Early Nico Dinner: Unsatisfying to me, as I think it makes more sense for Nico to eat dinner with Hu and Eden, but one of the more plausible options. There’s a really tight time frame for Eden to grab the fish if Nico ate earlier, but it’s doable. It’s unfortunate we have no frame of reference for when Nico actually fed the fish.

If it helps, the fact that Eden and Hu’s alibi has such a specific start time (their dinner, 7:00 PM) could be because it’s going to be relevant, suggesting this might be the real answer.

+Fake Fish: No established way for Eden to pull this off. It’s possible, but there’s no evidence for it.

+Early Catch: One of the better answers, though it runs into a bit of an issue. It would mean Eden was planning around a murder the entire chapter. She doesn’t necessarily need to have the whole method in mind, just the trick with the fish, but she’s still gotta have been planning something. The problem is, in CH 2 EP 1, she says this:

Eden: If everyone else is feeling down in the dumps, then it’s my job to get their spirits back up! That’s how we’ll get out of here! By working together!

This is said to no one, she’s talking to herself. Which is very strange if she’s going to be grabbing fish for a potential murder just a few hours later.

There’s a few workarounds for this workaround’s issue, though:

*Eden could have grabbed the fish for non-murdery purposes. No idea what they’d be though, so that’s not great.

*She hadn’t decided to murder yet, but had it as a backup plan if she couldn’t find any other way to get out in the meantime. Uh… maybe? I struggle to see it, but it could work. She does talk about plans to escape a lot.

*The secrets spurred her into murdery action. Now, I really doubt Eden would kill to hide she’s a lesbian (not to dismiss the fact that everyone should be allowed to come out only when they’re ready, David), but there’s a detail learnt in chapter 13 that makes this workaround workaround more plausible: Veronika’s secret is not the worst thing she’s done. As a result, it’s not impossible that Eden has a worse secret than what Charles received, and MonoTV just didn’t pick it for some reason. This feels like a copout, frankly, but it’s technically plausible even if I don’t see any real evidence for it.

As you can see, the workarounds are far from perfect. However, it’s not just Eden who struggles with the fish.

Point Against Ace: Fish Paradox

It’s generally assumed the killer used the fish to make the cast believe the murder happened before nighttime, possibly between 7:30 PM and 10:00 PM specifically if they were banking on people finding the note. The problem is that Ace doesn’t benefit from this, as he has no alibi at that time. Getting the fish water is objectively harder than just getting water from the kitchen sink at nighttime or something, so why would he do it?

This is what we DRDT theorists* call the fish paradox. Any character who benefits from people thinking the murder happened before nighttime, only benefit because they have an alibi around 7:30-10PM. But assuming Nico fed the fish around 7:00 PM, that means they couldn’t have taken the fish. But if they could have taken the fish, that’s only because they don’t have an alibi around that time, which means they don’t benefit from taking the fish.

*Only I call it this. Don’t fall for my lies, there is no “we” :v

Ace falls into the second category: could have taken the fish in the time it’s assumed they were taken, but he doesn’t benefit from it. As a result, you need to give an alternate explanation for why the fish are there, and I can’t find one.

This paradox is what makes many, like me, believe there is some kind of trick around when the fish disappeared, be it an accomplice or some other workaround. Which lines up with Eden, but not Ace.

Workaround Needed (Eden): Handwriting

Straightforward, already explained it. She wrote in print during the trial, meaning the sample is unfit for comparison with the letter, written in cursive. I don’t think this is a problem.

You wanna know a bigger problem?

Point Against Ace: Teruko’s Live Reaction

This entire debate, the entire reason these two are the most likely culprits in my mind, is because they’re the only two who could have reasonably taken the tape from the gym, and the only real purpose of doing so would be murder.

But there’s a glaring issue. Logistically speaking, I find it almost impossible to believe Ace took the tape. Why? Because ever since the moment Ace woke up, logically, Teruko’s attention should have been on him. And since she’s the PoV character in that scene, if Ace grabbed the tape, we should have heard of it. Since we didn’t, Ace most likely didn’t.

It’s this point, more than any other, that makes me believe Eden is the culprit. The only way to make Ace!Culprit work taking this into account is assuming Teruko pulled the same thing she did with Arei’s body swinging; she saw it and didn’t say anything. But that’s different, because we actually saw the swinging ourselves as well; if Ace picked up the tape, and Teruko saw it, we should have gotten clarification.

Argument Bullet Round!

+Eden’s Newfound Plot Relevance: Some have claimed that the fact Eden is seemingly the one to have taken out Xander’s eye means she must remain alive for that plot point to remain relevant. However, uh, there’s another person in the pre-prologue scene where Xander loses an eye.

And that’s Xander.

Who’s dead.

If plot relevance didn’t save him, I doubt it’ll save Eden. If anything, DRDT has a habit of killing off characters the moment the overarching plot catches up to them.

+Heels: Hu mentions walking with heels in the playground can scuff the floor, and Ace wears heels (I think). However, walking on heels wouldn’t generate the scuff marks we saw, so I believe it’s a moot point.

+Not A “Good Person”: In this chapter, which has the hidden title “A Good Person”, Levi, Eden, Teruko, David, and Xander have been called “a good person.” Given the hidden title, it’s speculated this list is about characters who in some way tie into the themes of the chapter, so the blackened should be included. Ace has not ever been referred to as a “good person,” and I can’t see him being called that this late into the trial. Not the strongest argument, but it’s there.

+Motive: Much has been written about Eden’s potential motivations, but at least we know she has always had an interest in escaping the killing game one way or another. Additionally, it’s very possible Eden didn’t believe Arei actually meant what she said during the Arturo situation, as she wasn’t present during the playground breakdown where her secret was revealed; and might be regretting her murder now that there’s evidence she genuinely wanted to change. If you want a more detailed explanation, I suggest you read venus’ fantastic Eden!Culprit Narrative Defense and the “can Eden still be the culprit?” section of accirax’s ep 13 reactions (which also summarizes the relevant parts of the first post), which explain this idea in more detail.

Meanwhile, Ace… probably wants to escape as much as anyone else, but he’s not ultra pressed about it. No particular grudge against Arei, either. I can’t think of a good motive for him, but maybe there will be one revealed later in the trial.

+Thematic Connection: Arei and Eden are recap foils, obviously they have plenty of narrative and thematic connections to make this murder narratively meaningful. Meanwhile, while Ace and Arei are similar in some aspects, I can’t really think of any themes which could be meaningfully explored with him as the killer. That might be the bias talking though lol.

And more but I think I’ve made my point.

So, despite everything, I still believe Eden is the culprit. Maybe our girl is stronger than we expected?

Conclusion

I still think Eden!Culprit is the most likely option we have, just that I now consider Eden!Solo more likely than Levi!Accomplice. That said, even with the things I brought up at the start, I’d say Levi!Accomplice is still more likely than Ace!Culprit, while Ace!Culprit is massively more likely than the third most likely culprit. Who is… I don’t know, Whit?

There’s been a few changes to accommodate the things discussed in the trial: Arei got splashed with water at some point, the rope was tied to a handlebar instead of there being a stopper, and the grippy tape was so the rope wouldn’t slide off.

Aside from that, there’s been a few modifications to my theory to accommodate Eden!Solo. Using the reveal of Eden ripping out Xander’s eye as a basis, I think Eden would realistically be able to strangle Arei unconscious by ambushing her, and potentially strong enough to pull off everything else she needs to, though I get how that may be a point of contention. Eden must have also faked her handwriting in the trial, looked away in the moment of death to cause the “See No Evil” technicality, and something’s fishy with the fish. Either she grabbed them day one, or Nico had an earlier dinner than expected; at this point, I think it’s impossible to tell.

The changes for the Ace-Nico thing were outlined in full earlier, all that’s left in that front is to see how wrong I am about it this Friday! :D

All in all, there haven’t been as many changes as I expected. In fact, the majority of this post is just me repeating stuff I already brought up in other posts, but applied to more people. Hope it doesn’t feel like I talked more than necessary.

Anyways, thanks for reading! If you made it this far, you deserve to treat yourself and buy a cute clock that you like! See ya’!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt theory #drdt spoilers #eden tobisa #ace markey #nico hakobyan #jesus this took longer than it should have

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