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nkdk-kelp · 2 years ago
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Sylvix Dump 2! I really made a ton on twitter over those few years dkfslds but it was very good practice for me getting back into fandom and stuff, after many years of burn out
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The Dangers of Hope Ch. 10
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Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.
Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.
Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.
Chapter Warnings: Angst, show level violence
Word Count: 7,447
A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.
If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊
I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.
I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️
A/N 2: Sorry again that this chapter got postponed a day. But here is the conclusion of the series. (Except for the epilogue coming next Saturday - or maybe a little earlier. 😉) I've absolutely loved writing this series. Loved living in the Endverse for a while, so thank you so much to everyone who came along with me. And an extra, super-duper thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged their thoughts about the story as we went along. Kind words fuel authors. ❤️ And oh yeah, this chapter's a bit long. Sorry! 😊
Main Master List || Series Master List || Tag Lists
The dividers below were created by @saradika
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Y/N didn’t want to look away, she wanted to keep her eyes on Dean. But the white light was absolutely blinding and she eventually had no choice but to turn away from it. The rush of white noise was almost deafening before becoming suddenly silent. 
There was only darkness behind her eyelids now so Y/N opened her eyes and stood up straight, looking at Dean where he still stood, halfway between her and Zachariah. His back was to her and she took a step towards him.
“Dean?” She questioned quietly.
He turned slightly so he could see her over his shoulder. He peered at her for a moment, almost scientifically, before he gave his head a brief shake.
“No.”
Y/N would never be able to explain it, but somehow it was Dean’s face, Dean's voice, and yet it wasn’t him. Something was missing from his sparkling, jewel green eyes.
This was Michael. Dean was gone.
Without a moment’s pause, the archangel strode towards the other angels and in the span of a breath they were all gone, leaving behind only the sound of fluttering wings. 
Y/N stood stock still, staring at the empty, open field where Dean had stood less than a minute before. Around her chaos began to spread. The people who’d been putting out the fire were rushing towards them now, trying to find out what was going on. Screams echoed as people saw Johnston lying dead on the ground.
Everyone was asking her questions, but she had no answers, she had no words. She just stood, as people rushed around her, feeling as though she’d wake up at any moment. She’d wake up and Dean’s arms would be around her and when he woke she’d tell him about the horrible dream and how scary it had been and he’d hold her gently and tell her it was all just a nightmare.
“...I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe…Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.”
Dean’s soft words whispered their way into her mind and she shivered. This couldn’t be happening.
Without warning her knees buckled and she fell to the muddy, wet ground, her muscles simply going limp. She covered her face as more tears began to fall. She felt the weight of all her tears gathering in her chest, threatening to crush her, when suddenly she heard Risa calling her name.
When she looked up the soldier was standing over her, still holding Emma in her arms. 
“Y/N, you can’t. You just can’t right now. Emma needs you, and I’ve got to… “ She waved an arm towards the people who were panicking all around them.
Y/N felt her mind rebelling, all she wanted was to sit there in the mud and let the cool night air numb her to the all-consuming ache spreading throughout her body. 
But she looked up into Emma’s little, terrified face, and forced herself to really hear the horror and confusion all around her; she knew she couldn’t just fall apart. 
She nodded at Risa and pushed herself to her feet. She took Emma from her and the other woman gave her a nod and moved into action, working with Cas and her fellow soldiers to start organizing the chaos, trying to get campers back to their tents. They also started debating how best to deal with the burnt out cabin and Johnston’s lifeless body
For her part, Y/N simply turned away from the cacophony and walked slowly back to the red tent. Emma was sobbing on her shoulder and Y/N gathered every ounce of her exhausted strength to try and console her little girl.
When they reached the tent Y/N set Emma down on her cot and wrapped a warm blanket around her while she went to light the stove and warm up the tent. After standing out in the cool night air for so long with no jackets, getting them warm was the first order of business.
Before long the little stove was chugging out ample heat, and she went back over to Emma and snuggled her daughter into her lap. After a while the little girl’s tears subsided into deep, shuddering breaths. Her voice was tiny and quiet when she spoke.
“Dean is gone.”
Y/N felt the whispered words pierce her heart. “Yeah, baby.”
“Will he come back?”
“Yes.” Y/N said it without thinking, her soul making the decision. But she didn’t want to lie to her child either, so she amended her comment. “I’m sure he’s going to try really hard to come back.”
Emma seemed to accept that and was quiet for a little while. Then she spoke again, her soft words tinged with fear. 
“Did the bad man kill Eric?”
Y/N squeezed her tighter and nodded against the top of her head. “Yes, baby, because he’s a very bad man.”
“Will he come back to kill us?”
Y/N felt her stomach plummet with fear and heartbreak that her daughter’s mind was so clouded with terror.
Y/N shook her head. “No, baby. He won’t come back now.” She hoped she wasn’t lying.
“Because Dean saved us?”
Y/N felt as though her heart was being crushed. “Yeah, sweet pea, because Dean saved us.”
***
The next few days passed in a haze for Y/N. She was trying desperately to keep it together for Emma’s sake. Her daughter was having nightmares every night and the last thing she needed was her mother crumbling on her. But Y/N was barely sleeping, no more than a couple of hours a night. Every ounce of her being felt exhausted - worn out beyond measure. 
There were no classes to teach, thank goodness; the camp was still disorganized and a bit scattered. A dozen or so campers had left, afraid of more angel retaliation. The campers left behind were trying to salvage what they could from the big cabin, and deal with the rest of the burnt out building. 
Three days after Dean had gone, Cas came to their tent in the evening, carrying extra wood and asking Y/N if she needed anything.
“No, Cas, we’re good. You don’t have to worry about us.” She said with a forced smile.
“I told Dean I would take care of you.” He said with conviction. “It’s still cold at night, hence the wood. What else do you need?”
Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, Cas. Really.”
He lifted his chin towards Emma who was sleeping on her cot. “How is she?”
Y/N gave a small shrug. “She's trying to cope, like all of us.” 
He nodded and then headed out. As he lifted the tent flap, Y/N called him back. When he turned his bright blue gaze on her she hesitated before asking the question that wouldn't leave her mind.
“Can we get him back? Somehow?”
Cas stared at her intensely for a moment before his eyes softened slightly; his deep voice was gentle as he spoke. 
“We can hope.”
Y/N closed her eyes. “Yes. Hope.”
When she opened her eyes again, the angel was gone.
***
A week after Dean left they still hadn't figured out any way to get him back, or even how to find him. Cas had begun to hear angel radio again, but the angels were being very quiet. Just the odd remark here and there that made Cas believe that they were still in Kansas, but he couldn't be sure.
The camp had gone back to functioning - mostly. But people kept saying things like, “We’ll run it by the Boss and see what he says.” before realizing that was impossible. The soldiers were trying to run things smoothly between them, and Brandy was helping to keep things as organized as possible. 
But Dean was very missed.
A full eight days after losing him, Y/N sat up at the table one night, desperately trying to think up a way to get Dean back to her. Her eyes were scratchy and red-rimmed as she let her head fall into her hands.
She may have fallen asleep right there if there hadn't been a sudden burst of white light. It lit up the tent, blinding her. As it faded slightly, she could just make out a man's shape. Her heart leapt for a moment before realizing this man was much too small to be Dean. 
A deep booming voice spoke and shook the ground around them. 
“Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. Fear not, Y/N: for thou hast - Ow! Son of a bitch!” 
The angel cut off his proclamation and held up his hands as Y/N smacked him repeatedly with a broom. The last of his angelic light went out like a candle and he grabbed the broom away from Y/N and snapped it with incredible ease. 
“What the hell, lady?” He rubbed the side of his head where she'd walloped him. “You know that worked great with Mary. SHE knew how to be ‘sore afraid’.”
Y/N went to Emma's cot where her daughter was crying silently, obviously horrified to see another angel, inside their tent this time. 
“Get out!” Y/N said with as much strength as she could muster.
“You really don't want that, trust me.” The angel said, his hazel eyes twinkling, a smirk on his thin lips.
“Who are you; what do you want?”
He gave a little bow. “Name’s Gabriel, but I prefer Loki.”
The tent flap opened and suddenly Cas was there with Risa and Patrick flanking him. But Cas pulled up short when he saw the other angel.
“Gabriel?”
“Hey, bro!” Gabriel said cheerfully.
Cas looked to the two soldiers on either side of him. “I'm fine here. You should patrol the area. Look for anything amiss or out of place. But don't approach it without me.”
Both soldiers gave a curt nod and left.
Cas came fully into the tent and his face was very wary. “Gabriel, what are you doing here? Where have you been for the last thousand Millenia or so? Most of us thought you were dead.”
“Nope.” Gabriel's voice was still nonchalant and cheery. “Just in a sort of witness relocation. Got sick to death of Daddy's beefs and Lucifer and Michael's petty squabbling. So, I took a little time off. Sailed around, saw the world, got myself a brand new face.” 
He framed his face with his two hands. “Cute, right?”
Cas just frowned at him and Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You have never known how to have fun Castiel.”
Cas raised an eyebrow. “Well, these humans are under my protection, so I'll save the fun until after you tell me what you're doing here.”
Gabriel lost his smirk and he crossed his arms. “Isn't it obvious? I'm here to save the day, as always.”
Cas scoffed. “Not likely. You tend to sew chaos.”
Gabriel shrugged. “What can I say, it's a talent.” He moved back to lean against the table. 
“But seriously, I'm so over this apocalypse. As soon as Lucy dumped his little virus on this world, I was outta here. No fun to be had with a bunch of humans barely clinging to life. So, I traveled near and far, all over the galaxy and a little bit further. It's been sort of fun. But let me tell you, there are only so many green-skinned, six-legged chicks you can bang before you start pining for home, you know?”
He gave his head a shake. “Don't know how Captain Kirk did it.”
“Get to the point, brother.” Cas said, annoyance lacing his tone.
“I'm here to help.”
“So you said. How?” Cas asked harshly.
Gabriel shrugged again. “I have a way to shove Lucifer and Michael into the cage.”
From his pocket he pulled out an oddly shaped object. It was an X made up of four circles, four rings, by the looks of it.
He held it up. “Borrowed these from the horsemen. Well,” he shrugged, “to be fair, only Death was willing to part with his, the others didn't wanna give ‘em up easily. But, you know, archangel trumps most. I was glad Death was so cooperative though, he woulda been a tough one to beat.”
Cas stepped up to him and held out his hand. Gabriel dropped the cross into it and Cas peered at it closely.
“The horsemen’s rings. What will this do?”
Gabriel's voice was quiet. “Keys to the cage, brother.”
Cas’ eyes widened. “Lucifer’s cage?”
Gabriel nodded. “And Michael’s too.” He paused for a beat. “And mine.”
Cas frowned. “Yours? Why would you throw yourself into the cage?”
Gabriel shrugged, but Y/N could see a flicker of some deep emotion pass over his mobile features. 
“Someone’s gotta pull those two down there. And I’d say after millions of years, and untold damage to the world, me and my brothers could use some time alone and family therapy.”
He allowed a smile to turn up the corner of his mouth.”From what I understand old Raffy’s taken up as a god on some distant planet. He always did like to be worshiped.” He shrugged again, his smirk firmly back in place. “So, it’s just the three of us.”
Cas shook his head. “Why are you doing all of this, Gabriel?”
The archangel took back the key to the cage and slipped it into his pocket. “Told ya, got sick of banging green chicks on Mars.”
“No. That's…there are no green women on Mars.” Cas said, looking at Y/N as though to reassure her. 
Y/N stood up and walked the few steps to where Gabriel stood, looking him straight in the eye. “Can you bring Dean back?”
Gabriel contemplated her for a moment and then shook his head. “No.” 
Y/N felt her stomach lurch, and she opened her mouth to shout at him, but Gabriel held up a hand, patting his pocket with the other. “With this I can open the cage, and I can pull my brothers down with me to be locked away. But if you want Dean back, you’ve gotta get him to toss Michael first. Otherwise, his body and soul come down too.”
Y/N began to panic. “What are you talking about? You are not dragging Dean down to hell, no matter what!” She shouted, her fists balled. “I will not let you.”
Gabriel’s smile looked genuine for the first time as he looked at Y/N fuming in front of him before turning to Cas. “She’s feisty! Dean knows how to pick ‘em!”
He looked back at Y/N and held both his hands up in surrender. “Look, I can’t extract Michael from Dean’s body, it doesn’t work that way; Dean has to be the one to throw him out. And there’s nothing I could say to give him that kind of strength.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you might be able to. You’re our best shot.”
He looked to Cas. “If she can get Dean to toss Michael, I’ll grab on to him. I’ll be able to hold him for a little while. Hopefully long enough to get to Lucifer and try to get Sam Winchester to eject him.” 
He shook his head. “That one’s gonna be a lot harder, and I’m not gonna lie, I don’t hold out very much hope. I also don’t know what kind of shape Sam’s gonna be in even if he can get him out. He’s held Lucifer for five years now, he might be too far gone.”
Cas nodded. “If we can get Dean, he can get Sam. Or, he’ll be the best chance anyway. And if Sam manages to eject Lucifer, Dean won’t care what condition he’s in, he’ll fix him.”
Gabriel gave a nod. “We’ll see, I suppose. But we gotta start with Dean so…” He looked at Y/N. “What do you say, beautiful?”
Y/N contemplated him for a moment before looking at Cas. “Do you trust him?”
Cas was quiet for a long time, looking Gabriel over, the debate clear in his expression. 
The archangel rolled his eyes. “Thanks, bro.”
Finally Cas nodded. “Yes, I believe we can trust him.”
Y/N took a deep breath, hope and fear spreading throughout her body in equal measure. “Okay, then let’s go save the Winchesters.”
***
Their traveling party was prepared and ready to go in very little time, most of which was spent explaining to Emma why she couldn’t come. 
Y/N knew how terrified her little girl must be, thinking she was losing her mother now too. Eventually though, her tears subsided and her little face became resolved to what was happening. It broke Y/N’s heart to see that resolve, to know that her daughter’s soft heart was getting tougher. 
Y/N swore to herself that she was going to bring Dean home, and they would live happily ever after, spoiling Emma and letting her go soft once again.
Before they left, Y/N gave Monique a hug and thanked her again. She’d pulled her friend aside earlier and spoken quietly with her, asking her to take care of Emma if anything should happen to her. Tears had welled up in Monique’s beautiful amber eyes but she’d clasped Y/N’s hands tightly. 
“I will always look after Emma as my very own.” She shook her head and dashed away her tears. “But you’ll be back in no time, I’m sure. So, I’ll see you soon.”
The soldiers, Brandy and Monique had all checked privately with Y/N about whether or not she was really okay to set off with two angels. Y/N reassured them that she trusted Cas completely and he trusted Gabriel. So she did too. Besides, she’d reasoned, if this was their only possibility to save Dean, she had to take it. 
Gabriel said he knew just where Michael was staying, so she held Cas’ hand as the archangel tapped his brother’s shoulder and in a blink they were suddenly standing just outside a rundown Victorian house. 
The springtime sun was just beginning to lighten the sky in the East as they popped into existence on the sidewalk outside the house.
She hadn’t even had time to wave goodbye.
The three of them walked slowly up the front stairs and through the door. As they entered the house they heard a voice call from the back. 
“The polite thing to do would have been to call first, you know.”
Y/N felt her heart leap. She recognized Dean’s voice, but it sounded different. The consonants were more clipped, the words more even in tone, almost bland, bored. His voice had none of Dean’s rough, expressive way of speaking.
The dissonance continued as they walked into the sitting room and found Dean. He held himself ramrod straight, and when he turned towards them, his face held none of Dean’s stony anger, or joyful exuberance. It too was bland, cold, his normally shining, emerald eyes looked almost empty.
Looking at this version of Dean was very difficult. Somehow being in front of this non-Dean made Y/N miss him even more. 
But he never spared her a glance. All his attention was on his brothers. “Castiel, it’s been a long time. And Gabriel,” he looked him up and down, “it’s been even longer. Millions of years, in fact. I almost didn’t recognize you in this vessel.”
“Yeah, got this one custom made by a good friend of mine.” He ran a hand across his chest. “I’ve grown quite fond of my earthly form, so I’m happy I don’t have to share it with a human, and I don’t ever have to turn into a bright white mist, cause there's no human inside to reject me. This beautiful face is mine all mine.”
He smiled wide, but Michael just frowned. “That’s sacrilege, brother. Our angelic form is greater than any human disguise.”
Gabriel shrugged. “But they sure come in handy don’t they. If you wanna get anything done on earth, they really are a necessity.” He raised a hand towards him. “Hence all your trouble to get this one.” 
Gabriel's tone became grandiose and overwrought. “For here is your sword, your one true vessel. Destined for eons to be the one human whose bones you were the most eager to jump.”
Michael stared at him soundlessly for a moment and then spoke in the same even, emotionless tone. “Why are you here, Gabriel? And why have you brought this human?” He pointed at Y/N, but still didn’t look at her.
Gabriel paused a beat before answering. “Well, we have a bone to pick with you.” 
That was the signal to spur Cas into action. A white light shot out from Gabriel’s hands, connecting him to Michael. As the two archangels fought, Michael trying desperately to break the hold Gabriel had on him, Cas ran in front of him, drawing a straight line from wall to wall in holy oil and then dropping a lit match, trapping Michael behind the line of flame. 
Gabriel let his brother go, grunting with effort as the connection broke. Michael’s borrowed face was no longer emotionless, it was furious and bubbling with hate. 
“How dare you!” He shouted at Gabriel. “How dare you try to interfere with my destiny. This fight has been postponed for five long years while Lucifer ran amok. It is my duty to fight him and end him!”
Gabriel was scowling at his big brother a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. “You said doody.”
Everyone paused to look at him askance, and he shrugged. “What? That’s funny! Nobody has a sense of humor these days.” 
He shook his finger at Michael. “You know who would have laughed at that, the man you’re possessing. He would have thought it was hilarious. Or at least, he would have before the apocalypse struck. Been a bit down in the mouth since Lucifer possessed his brother and ended the world.”
Michael was still livid and he spoke through gritted teeth. “We tried to tell Dean that I needed my sword, that I needed my vessel to fight Lucifer, but he wouldn’t listen. He brought this on humanity.”
“Bullshit!” Gabriel called out and all traces of his humor were gone. “You could have used another vessel, you could have made due as Lucifer did before Sam. But no, you wanted THIS vessel.” He pointed at Dean. “And you were pissed you couldn’t have him, so you threw a hissy fit and left the world to burn.”
Silence reigned for a moment before Gabriel spoke again, quiet now. “And I left with you. I cashed in my chips and walked away from the table. But I kept an eye on humanity while I was galivanting around the universe. Kind of an old habit, and what I saw shocked me. The world was over, civilization destroyed, and yet - on they all trudged. These people. These humans. They kept on fighting. These flawed broken toys we all mocked and looked down on, they fought, they loved, they helped each other, they won and lost, but no matter what, they just kept going.”
Michael was motionless as Gabriel continued, pointing towards Y/N. “And just as there was a possibility of hope, just as they found a way they might be able to win, might be able to restart the world, here you come again, army in tow, ready to level the planet all over. And for what? So you can fight some ancient grudge match with our brother?” He shook his head. “What is the bloody point?”
Dean’s jaw ticked with Michael’s annoyance. “It’s my destiny. It’s what I was created to do.”
Gabriel looked sad as he glanced over at Y/N. “Well, not if she can help it.”
Y/N knew this was her time, it was on her now to help Dean find strength enough to eject the possessing angel. Michael’s cold eyes looked at her through Dean’s sparkling jade and she closed her own for a moment, imagining the warmth in Dean’s expression before she opened her eyes and smiled at him.
“Dean, can you hear me? I need you to listen, I need you to trust me. Throw him out. I’ll be safe, Emma and I will both be safe now. But I need you to come back home.”
“Dean isn’t available at the moment.” Michael said darkly. But she could see him squinting, almost as though he was in pain and Y/N chose to believe that Dean was fighting him from the inside. 
She kept talking as though Michael hadn't spoken.
“I have so many plans for us. Once we’ve made the cure possible, and the world is able to begin again, I really want us to go back home, back to Chitaqua. I wanna build a cabin there. Nothing fancy, you know, just something a bit bigger than the tent, but still cozy - with a bedroom door that locks.” She finished with a wide grin.
She stepped a little closer to him, careful to avoid the flame. “And, of course, I think we’re gonna have to get Emma that dog she asked for. And we can celebrate birthdays and holidays with all of our friends and family. We’ll keep them all close, and safe.”
Michael was stepping back from her, looking away and shaking his head as though he was dizzy. 
“Dean, I love you so much. All I want is to spend my life with you. Please kick him out. I know how strong you are, I know you can do it.”
“I’ll kill her!” Michael screamed out suddenly, as though his inner thoughts weren’t loud enough for Dean to hear. “You understand me? If you want her to live, want to keep her safe, stop fighting me. Now!”
Michael was breathing hard, but a joyless smile was spreading across Dean's beautiful face; the archangel was obviously pleased. 
“That's better.” He whispered, still slightly out of breath.
They were losing Dean, she could see it. Michael was terrorizing him again with threats against her. So, acting purely on instinct, Y/N made one last attempt, one huge Hail Mary. 
She took a deep breath and leapt over the fire, throwing her arms around Dean’s neck. She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him with every ounce of love and passion she could muster. 
She put everything into the kiss, every moment she’d loved him, and every promise she was making him were all there, tied up with all the hope in her heart. 
She felt a tingling against her lips that started to burn as she pulled away. She jumped back and fell to the ground as Dean let out a roar, and his mouth opened wide. The blinding white light that had consumed him was being forced back out of him, in an incredible light show that ended abruptly as Gabriel reached out and pulled the light into himself.
The darkness was complete for a moment before Y/N’s eyes could adjust. As the world came into focus, she could see Gabriel on the other side of the flame, breathing hard and fast. Cas walked to his side and poured some of his own white light into Gabriel, which seemed to stabilize him slightly. 
But his voice was still wobbly when he spoke. “We gotta go. I don’t know how long I can hold him in here with me.”
Y/N nodded and crawled over to where Dean had fallen to the floor. She turned his face towards her just as his eyes fluttered open. 
“Y/N?” He whispered and she nodded at him with tears flowing.
“Yeah, I’m here, I’m safe. We’re all safe.”
Dean shook his head. “But how…” He sat up slowly and looked towards where Cas and Gabriel stood. He squinted and shook his head in confusion. “The Trickster’s an angel?”
Cas’ eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel. “You were the Trickster the boys went up against? Twice?” 
Dean’s voice was slightly annoyed. “Yeah, he killed me like a million times.”
Y/N felt her stomach lurch, but Gabriel just waved it away as nothing. “I was trying to teach you boys something; wasn’t my finest moment maybe, but you gotta admit, the tacos were funny.”
“Not to me, asshole.” Dean grumbled. Y/N was very confused and about to ask for clarification when Gabriel bent double.
“Ugh!” He groaned. “Okay, could you postpone my spanking for that very hilarious prank until after I’ve saved you all?”
Y/N nodded and helped Dean to his feet. Gabriel looked at him. “Okay, pal, this one’s on you. We’re gonna go get Lucifer so I can toss all of us into the cage. We can try to get Sam to chuck him first. We’ll need you for that. But if you can’t get him, and it seems like Lucifer might get away, I’ll grab Sam as is and jump into the cage.”
Dean stormed up to him. “You are not taking my brother to hell, you understand me?” 
Gabriel just shrugged. “Then I guess you better reach him before it’s too late.”
He groaned again as he fought his brother internally, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his head. Without saying any more, they all got into position so Gabriel could zap them to Lucifer’s location. 
Just before he could manage it however, there was a bellow of rage from behind them, making them all turn. From the doorway, Zachariah charged forward, angel blade bared and aimed for Dean’s jugular. 
Dean shoved Y/N out of the way as the angel charged them like a bull. But when he was just a couple feet from Dean, Cas stuck his foot out, sending the furious angel spilling to the ground in a comical looking pratfall. 
He fell onto the still burning holy fire and screamed in pain, rolling around, trying to escape the flames. Before he could pull himself free, however, Dean grabbed onto the silver blade the angel had dropped. He raised it high, and then plunged it deep into his throat, forever freezing the angel's sadistic face in agony. 
More blinding white lights burst out of the dying angel, forcing Y/N to once again cover her head and shield her eyes. When she reopened them, she could see the angel’s blackened wings, as his empty vessel was slowly consumed in the flame. 
Dean stood up and then helped Y/N to her feet. After giving her a once over to determine she was alright, he turned to Cas. 
“Nice job, buddy. Very Keystone Cops.”
Cas frowned. “I don’t know an officer by that name.”
Dean just smiled and then slipped the blade into his pocket as he looked down at the dead angel. 
“Good riddance.” He said under his breath before a panting Gabriel yanked him back into position and zapped them all away.
Suddenly, in another heartbeat, they were all standing in a bombed out street; the buildings around them were crumbling and burnt. It was all that was left after some of the original fighting between the army and the Croats five years before. The bombings hadn’t worked. 
As they stood looking around, a man caught their eye. He was strolling out of one of the buildings less than twenty feet away; he was very tall and had long brown hair and an easy stride. 
Y/N could hear Dean gasp slightly beside her and she took his hand. The man, who could only be Lucifer, slowed down as he approached them. His smile was soft and patronizing.
“Well, well. This is a surprise. What a merry little band of rebels you’ve all turned into.” 
He nodded at Gabriel. “Our brothers and sisters all thought you must have been killed somewhere, but I knew better.” He studied him for a minute before smirking. “And I see he got hold of you, Mikey!” He said loudly. He chuckled. “He always was a cuck.”
He frowned slightly as he spared barely a glance for the rest of them. “But Gabe, buddy if you’re here to try and put me back in that cage?” He raised his hand and closed it into a fist and Gabriel began coughing as though he was choking. “Well, that simply isn’t going to happen.” 
Cas ran forward to help, but Lucifer tossed him aside with a sweep of his hand. Dean pushed Y/N to crouch behind an upside down car. “Stay here.” He warned, before turning back towards his brother.
“Sammy?” He called tentatively. Lucifer looked over at him and dropped Gabriel to the ground as he let him go. He faced Dean and shook his head. 
“You.” The devil said, his voice menacing. “You have no idea how sick I am of you. Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to Sammy bellyaching about how he was letting you down? Do you know how ANNOYING it is to execute a perfect reign of terror just to have this boy,” he banged his chest, “weeping in my head instead of truly reveling in it with me?”
He shook his head. “It’s only been quiet in here since I threatened to find you and end you. See that’s how I got Sammy’s cooperation in the first place. I promised that if he said yes I wouldn’t snap your neck like kindling.” 
He waved towards Dean dismissively. “You were sound asleep at the time, you wouldn’t remember this. But Sam finally said yes, as I always knew he would, and in return I promised that you could keep on living. So when Sam wouldn’t shut up and stop whining, a simple threat to revoke our original deal was enough to silence him.”
He smiled, and Y/N thought it was pure sin for such a sweet, dimpled smile to sit on the face of evil. Lucifer tilted his head slightly as though he was listening to something. 
“But now…hey Sammy.” He said in a silky tone. “Been quiet so long, I'd actually started to miss you.”
Dean took a step closer. “Sammy, can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m so sorry, more than I can ever say. I never should’ve walked away from you. We should have fought these assholes together. I should have known that we’re stronger together than apart.”
He swallowed. “But you’ve gotta chuck him. We’ve got a plan, little brother, we can win. Believe me.”
Lucifer rolled Sam’s bright, hazel eyes just before he slammed his fist into Dean’s face, almost knocking him to the ground. 
Gabriel shot light at his brother, but it was much weaker than what he’d thrown at Michael; so much of his strength was being used to keep Michael locked inside himself. Cas added his strength, but Lucifer quickly pushed them both away, severing their hold on him. 
Blood gushed from Dean’s lip, his jaw already swollen and purple, as he started forward again. 
“Sammy, I need you to force him out. I know how strong you are. I know you can do it. I never should have doubted it, never should have believed they could defeat us. We are Winchesters and we never-” 
He broke off as Lucifer landed two more swift blows to his face, causing a sickening crack as Dean’s nose shattered and he crashed to the ground.
Y/N gasped and jumped up, running forward even though there was nothing she could possibly do. Gabriel and Cas fought him again, forcing Lucifer to stumble back slightly. But he found his footing quickly and severed the hold as he had before, this time sending both angels sailing through the air. 
Lucifer stared at Dean, hatred spreading across Sam's handsome features. "I am done with you." He shouted. "You are not worth my time."
Looking as though it was a struggle, as though the body he was possessing was fighting back, Lucifer raised his arm, his fingers poised to snap. Y/N screamed, memories bursting in her mind of the swiftness with which Zachariah had ended Johnston’s life with a mere snap.
But before he could manage it, Lucifer once again stumbled backwards. This time, however, Cas and Gabriel had barely risen from the ground and were just walking back towards them. 
Lucifer dropped his arm and fell suddenly to his knees. “No.” He whispered, shock suffusing the word, and then he screamed. “No!” The ground shook and rumbled, knocking all of them down.
Suddenly a burst of white light erupted from Sam’s mouth, and as he had before, Gabriel reached forward with his own light to trap his brother. 
The light suffused the archangel-turned-Trickster; it was no longer being wholly contained within himself, but spilling out of him as he tried to hold on to all of their angelic forms within his one custom-made vessel. 
Jerkily he reached into his pocket and threw the key at Cas. “Now, brother!” 
Cas tossed it to the ground and began chanting. As the chant ended, a wide hole began to crack open in the street.
Gabriel pitched forward towards the hole, but his body seemed to be disobeying his commands - his brothers were fighting against him with all their strength. The light emanating from Gabriel seemed to be splitting, as though the other two archangels were separating from him.
With one last surge of strength, Gabriel leapt forward and dove headfirst into the hole in front of him. There were deafening sounds of furious screaming that were quickly swallowed up as the ground closed around them.
There was only silence for a long time, as they all struggled to get their bearings, to reconcile what had just happened. 
Y/N was the first to move, running to Dean just as he stood up, and then collapsing in his arms. Dean held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and then cupping her cheeks to kiss her mouth, hard and fast. He pulled away and smiled.
Cas stepped forward to tap his fingers to Dean's forehead, instantly clearing the blood and bruises. 
Dean nodded and smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, Cas.”
He looked back at Y/N and his beautiful eyes and mobile, expressive face were once again his own and Y/N rejoiced.
Dean turned them both to face Sam where he still knelt on the ground. With a quick squeeze, Dean stepped away from her to reach out a hand to his little brother.
Sam hesitated only a moment before he took it and let Dean pull him to his feet. The two men stared at each other for a minute before Dean yanked Sam towards him to wrap the taller man up in a bear hug, his arms wrapping over Sam’s shoulders and clinging tightly. 
Sam’s face crumpled slightly and he crushed his brother’s ribs as he hugged him back. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t…” He trailed off, but Dean was shaking his head. 
“No, Sam, no.” He pulled back to clap his hand against the side of Sam’s neck. “This isn’t on you.” Sam gave him a look and Dean shook his head. “Well, it’s certainly not all on you. We both fucked up, but we have a chance to fix things now.”
He turned back to Y/N and held his arm out towards her. She stepped forward to take his hand. Dean was beaming as he made the introductions.
“Sam, Y/N, Y/N, Sam.” Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean grinned. “Meet my wife.”
Sam’s eyes widened and Y/N gasped. “What?” She squeaked. 
Dean shrugged. “Well okay, maybe there’s still the formalities to go through, like the wedding ceremony.”
“And a proposal!” Y/N said, laughing from sheer joy, utter exhaustion and the madness of their new reality.
Dean grinned at her. “You saying you don’t wanna?”
Y/N beamed up at him. “Definitely not saying that.”
Cas interrupted. “Before you start planning the wedding, can we go home?”
Sam looked dazed and spoke softly as though trying to decide if it was all just a dream. “Where is home?”
Dean clapped him on the back. “Camp Chitaqua. You’re gonna love it, Sammy! Trust me. It’s paradise.”
“With outhouses.” Y/N said with a snort.
Sam’s smile was soft, and it suited his kind, handsome face much more than it had ever fit the devil.
“Sounds perfect. Let’s go home.”
Cas stepped forward and in a blink they were back in the field where the spring vegetables were just sprouting - where they could hear the voices of their friends and neighbors, and smell the thick scent of pine and new earth.
There was a cry of shock as the campers saw them all suddenly standing there. Shouts conveyed the message quickly throughout the camp and everyone came running to see their return. 
Y/N let out a cry of happiness as she saw Emma racing towards her, her little legs eating up the distance surprisingly fast. As she reached them, Dean scooped her up and pulled Y/N into the circle of his embrace so that the three of them hugged each other tightly. 
The rest of the day was spent celebrating and rejoicing, hours of storytelling, and off-key singing around campfires, food shared and enjoyed by everyone. 
Eventually, Dean, Y/N and Emma broke away to bring Sam to Dean’s old tent. They lit a lamp and Dean gave Sam the grand tour, pointing the way to the outhouses from there, and assuring him the cot was more comfortable than it looked. 
Sam nodded, still looking as though he couldn’t take it all in. Seeing his confusion, Y/N kissed Dean on the cheek and picked up Emma’s hand. 
“You boys have so much to catch up on. You should take some time together.”
Sam shook his head. “No, you’ve been away from each other long enough. This reunion should be yours.” He said, nodding at Y/N and Dean. Throughout the day he’d been caught up on how everything went down with Michael and Zachariah. 
But Y/N shook her head. “We’ve been apart a week, you’ve been apart for years. You need this time.”
Dean looked down at her, love shining in his gaze, before tossing his brother a smile. “Don’t bother arguing, Sammy, she always wins.”
He bent down and kissed Y/N deeply, making Emma curl her lip.
“Ew.” She said succinctly, and Y/N laughed as she pulled out of the kiss. 
She looked at Sam and then moved in for a hug. Sam hugged her back and she beamed up at him. 
“I'm so glad to know you, Sam Winchester. Welcome home.”
With that she pulled Emma out of the tent to let the brothers get to know each other again.
Hours and hours later, the camp was finally quiet. A lamp glowed here and there as people slowly settled into their tents for the night. A happy peace settled over the camp, blanketing it in coziness and calm.
Y/N had sung Emma to sleep an hour before and was now stretched out on her own cot. She was planning on waiting for Dean to come back from visiting with his brother. But almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, her absolute exhaustion hit her and she was out immediately.
She woke with a start some time later, and then sighed deeply as she felt Dean’s arms tighten around her. Across the room she could hear Emma’s soft snores and her eyes filled with tears as the reality hit her anew that they were all truly together again, safe and sound. She turned in Dean’s arms so she could face him.
“Dean.” She whispered. 
He smiled a sleepy smile and kissed her softly. “You were sleeping so soundly when I got home, I didn’t want to disturb you.” He whispered back, voice craggy with sleep.
“How is Sam?” She asked.
Dean sighed. “He’s okay. Gonna take time for him to be a hundred percent, you know. But he’s here, and he’s smiling, and he’s...Sammy.” He shrugged slightly. “So, that’s enough for now.”
Y/N nodded and wiped away a tear, finally making Dean notice them in the dark. His voice sounded slightly worried as he cupped her cheek and thumbed away the wetness. “Sweetheart, you're crying. Why?”
Y/N shook her head. “Because all my hopes and dreams have come true. We’re together, we’re safe, the camp is safe, the devil’s gone, and we actually have a real chance of remaking the world.”
Dean’s voice voice was a bit choked up too as he responded, grinning. “Yeah, but I don't plan on forgetting that promise you made me. When the world is fixed, we’re coming back here to live out our days in a big log cabin with locking doors and indoor plumbing, right?”
Y/N giggled. “I’m not sure about the indoor plumbing, but everything else is definitely in the cards, I hope.”
Dean pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Well, we’re in the business of hope, so I think our chances are good.”
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Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma
Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world
Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire
Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96
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bunni-bun · 1 month ago
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bunni I saw your tags on my post about the hurricane I hope you're okay and safe!!!!!! I'm worried for you!!!!!!!!!
risa, my love, thank you for worrying🥺
i'll be alright for the most part, i'm just worried about flooding in my area since that's prone to happening and i hate flood waters. the street directly behind my home always floods and it's nightmare 💀 but otherwise, i'll be alright. the area i live in is on the hospital grid system so we usually either keep our power or get it back within a few hours tops. i'll be okay 💖
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bopeisdope · 1 year ago
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can i please ask for N, T, V for the ask game?? hope you’re doing well!!
First of all I am SO SORRY I answered this so late! Time got away from me 😔 I'm doing okay. I got lots of college apps and music school auditions to deal with so I'm a little stressed. I hope you are doing well! And I want to say I love your writing! Now to the ask game:
N: I only have two things I want to see more of really. I'm kind of a hypocrite about this but I wish I saw more people adding to others people's post, not just in the tags. Especially in a fandom as small as the unwind fandom, because I find it so fun to talk to people and hear their ideas. Another thing I wanna see more of it is book analysis!! I love fanart and fanfic but I'm so bad at both and going on long tagents about the book is something I am good at!!
T: Connor Lassiter is not straight. He probably bi or pan but he ain't straight. I will die on this hill.
V: Oh my gosh I relate to Risa SO MUCH. I have always had this fear of not doing enough when it comes to things outside of school work, like playing my instruments. But even though I'm at the top of my section sometimes I feel overlooked just because I'm a girl. It sucks when people assume things. Then my competitiveness is increased tenfold just because I feel like I have to prove myself.
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elen-aranel · 3 years ago
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Chanced Chapter 6: Enterprise - Arrival
Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: references to crew deaths (offscreen) WC: 3k Taglist: @fzziiee​  (if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know <3) Notes: The +1 thing... I said to Chris and Reader, Now be happily ever after! But they said no, so we still have some way to go. This is finally Canon Adjacent - references the TOS Pilot, the Cage. Rating: Mature for moments in other chapters Summary: You shouldn’t be nervous, you tell yourself, on the way to the captain’s ready room. You know Chris; you like him. But that’s the problem, you think, with your hand poised over the door chime. You know Chris. Not Captain Pike. But you won’t get to know him just standing here.
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Starship Enterprise, 2254
Starship Enterprise is the most prestigious ship in the fleet. And you can’t quite believe, as you fly round her saucer, close enough that you can even see red, blue, and gold uniformed shapes through the windows, that you’re piloting the Lizzie Bennet into her shuttle bay.
Your new red uniform still feels a little strange. Bright. You finger the shiny red stripes on your cuff; it’ll take a while to get used to reading ranks off sleeves rather than badges.
In the end, everything had happened so quickly.
You loved the Cooper; you had been there for years. But you’d been feeling ready for a new challenge for a while. You knew you were eligible for a promotion but there wasn’t much change of that happening where you were: you weren’t the only one who loved the ship. Plus a couple of your particular friends in other departments had moved on, too. You had been keeping an eye on open positions across the fleet for a while, but you wanted the right thing, and not just change for the sake of change. You could have gone for chief of security on a smaller ship, like a science vessel or medical frigate, or even a ship the size of the Cooper. But telling other people what to do is not as exciting as the thought of exploration. You wanted a posting on a Constitution class.
You couldn’t believe it when you saw the perfect position on offer… on the Enterprise. The most prestigious ship in the fleet.
But also… Chris’ ship.
You cherish your memories of that week on Risa… was it really four years ago? And of course you wished you could have had more with him… but you were under no illusions. Neither of you were going to give up your lives. You both had callings you had to be true to.
And even if you did serve on the same ship, Chris had told you about not wanting to be in a relationship with someone under his command. You respected that; you understood completely. Being involved with someone in your chain of command was opening yourself up to so many risks, and you had seen it go bad. You were lucky that you’d had support on Starbase 58 so it didn’t go wrong for you.
So the question was, could you have a purely professional relationship? Maybe get to be friends, but never have hope for anything more?
You didn’t even have long to think about it; the Enterprise was coming in to pick crew up at the Vega colony, and the Cooper was nowhere near. You could only even consider the posting because of the Lizzie Bennet – she could get you there in time.
But in the end, you were confident… you’d been friends with Chris before you’d been lovers. And you were never all that close – you hadn’t even seen each other in four years. If he didn’t have a partner who was a subordinate, he could have someone on a planet somewhere, and that would be fine. You would be happy for him.
You were going for a senior position, so you would likely have to interact with the captain regularly. But the Enterprise… for the sake of your career, you told yourself, if there was even a chance, you had to apply.
You put your transfer request in. You didn’t expect it to be approved.
Yet somehow it was, and here you are, pulling into the shuttle bay. Landing Lizzie in an out of the way corner.
You give your uniform one last check in the mirror before you leave, making sure your collar lands perfectly. Then before you know it, you’re stepping out on to the deck of the Enterprise. Your new home.
“Welcome to the Enterprise, Lieutenant Commander. You can call me Number One. Not many people get to arrive on their own ship.” She raises an eyebrow, and you take her proffered hand.
“Thank you, and thanks for making space. I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but Lizzie Bennet is at your disposal if she’s ever needed for a mission. She’s getting on but I keep her updated. She can still give your shuttles a run for their money.”
“Louvier will be the judge of that, but thank you. Could be that we’ll need her one day.” She gestures to a crewman standing beside her. “Jones here will show you to your quarters and help you get settled in. The new security chief arrives tomorrow, so your work proper will start then.”
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“—and here’s your synthesiser. It’s programmed for food as well as uniforms, but most people eat in the mess hall. Chef is pretty good. And I think that’s it… unless you have any questions?”
“No, I think I’m good.” You pat your trunk. “I have everything I need.”
“Well, comm me if you think of anything or need anything else,” Jones smiles. “Always happy to help.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” You nod at him as he leaves.
Now you’re alone you can get a proper feel for your space. And space is the right word; these quarters are much larger than the ones you had on the Cooper. You even have a separate bedroom. You had requested some furniture ahead of your arrival, and the quartermaster has provided you with a neutral grey two-seater sofa and matching armchair, and a low coffee table. You think you might see if you can synthesise a vase for it. In the meantime, though, you open your trunk. A blanket that Penny made was the last thing you packed; you take it out and arrange it over the back of the sofa. It’s crochet squares in rainbow colours, and now you have it out your quarters are beginning to feel like a home.
Thinking of home makes you think of Lizzie. She isn’t your home but she is a link to it, and you ought to stop by engineering and introduce yourself to Louvier. You meant what you said to Number One: you’ve used Lizzie for missions in the past. Like the time when you helped with the emergency evacuation of a colony – all the De Milo’s transporters and shuttles were at full capacity, and you did five runs taking twenty colonists each time. Or the time when a rogue software update took all the Cooper’s shuttles out simultaneously, and you had to ferry a junior diplomat to a rendezvous with another ship.
So you want Louvier’s seal of approval for her, and… it never hurts to be in with the engineers. You never know when spare parts might come your way.
You straighten your jacket – it’s still red – and head out.
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As you walk through the corridors, take the turbolift, nodding and smiling to the crew you see, you wonder what had happened here. Things are just a little off.
You’re aware that something must have happened for the Enterprise to need multiple new crew members during her mission – the reason you’re there at all – but it still strikes you. Everyone is pleasant, but the atmosphere in the corridors is muted.
Engineering is a hive of activity when you get there, though, which you should have expected – a stopover like this is a good chance to work on all the systems they can’t access at warp.
“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” you say to a human woman logging into the console closest to you. “Do you know where Chief Louvier is?”
She smiles brightly, brown eyes lighting up. “Are you one of the new security officers? Welcome! I saw him just back there.” She turns, points. “There he is, with—”
“Captain Pike.” Your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper, as you see him standing talking with another officer who must be Louvier near the warp core.
And as much as you had seen Chris in uniform before, you have never seen Captain Pike.
You see him now, though, and it’s not just the gold jacket in a sea of red. It’s the easy air of authority, even as he’s clearly listening to what Louvier says, nodding in agreement at some point or other. It’s his bearing. You had thought you were good at shedding your Starfleet persona, and you are, but you hadn’t realised how much of Captain Pike – Commander Pike, when you’d last seen him – Chris is able to leave behind too.
Then he turns toward you, feeling your gaze. His blue eyes meet yours.
Engineering falls away for a moment as he takes you in, as you take him in, and you can see that same shadow in him. But then his face softens into that familiar little smile.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you hear yourself saying, and you find yourself walking toward him. But no. He’s the captain. Nothing more. You’re here for Louvier. You have to get a grip.
“Lieutenant Commander, welcome to the Enterprise.” His voice is warm and friendly, but… giving nothing away, especially given the onlookers. He doesn’t acknowledge that he knows you.
You incline your head. “Thank you, Captain. I’m happy to be here. Looking forward to a new challenge.” You smile, and turn to include Louvier in the conversation. “I wanted to get down here right away, to introduce myself and seek your approval, Chief, for my shuttle, the Lizzie Bennet. She’s at the Enterprise’s disposal if she’s ever needed for a mission, but I’m guessing you’d like to take a look at her before you sanction her for duty?”
“What d’you think Louvier? We can always use another shuttle, right?”
Louvier tilts his head. “I heard we were getting a new addition to the bay. What is she? Type 1b Corvette? Is she modded?”
“Yes. The shell is original, but I’ve replaced most of the systems over the years. An all-new impulse engine… uh… eighteen months ago? I totally redid the EPS grid, too.”
“Yeah, they can be pretty inefficient in some of the civilian specs. How about transport? They don’t come with transporters, do they?”
Chris – Captain Pike – steps back. “I’ll let you two talk shop. Louvier, if you have the last round of requisitions to me in the next hour or so we should be able to get everything before we leave. And Commander, if you could stop by my ready room at 14:00?”
“Aye, Captain.”
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You shouldn’t be nervous, you tell yourself, on the way to the captain’s ready room. You know Chris; you like him. But that’s the problem, you think, with your hand poised over the door chime. You know Chris. Not Captain Pike. But you won’t get to know him just standing here.
You press the chime and walk in as the door opens.
The room is homey, in a way you didn’t expect. There are warm coloured pots, a throw over a sofa, a long wooden table with a black mark down it that splits and forks. Of course it makes sense that the room would reflect his personality, but even so he seems to have gone to much greater pains than any other captain you’ve served with to make the room feel comfortable.
“Lieutenant Commander, thank you for joining me.” Pike stands and walks round from behind his desk.
“Of course, Captain.” He gestures to a chair as he heads to the sofa, and you sit, straight.
He doesn’t speak immediately; he studies you, and you study him in return. Command is… is weighing on him, you think. In the set of his shoulders. The tiny crease between his eyebrows. Perhaps in the extra grey in his dark hair. He’s as handsome as ever, though. Matured from the man who sat at your table all those light years and all that time ago. He wears the years well.
He sighs, gently.
“I didn’t recognise you.” That little quirk of the mouth is there again, but just a corner raises. Not a full smile. “When I initially approved your application. The photo on your file, it looks so different. In uniform, with your hair—” he gestures. “Even the way you stand is different. Number One picked you out first, and your references from the Cooper were glowing. It actually took talking to Captain Th’Venar for the penny to drop. He said he’d be sorry to see you go, but that was why we should take you.”
You warm at that. The Andorian knows his stuff around security, especially where combat was involved. He’s a good captain and you’ll miss him.
“And then he mentioned your shuttle, how it had been a bonus asset, and—” he shrugs, self-deprecating. “But I just wanted you to know that you’re here on your own merits. Not because we—not because of our friendship.”
“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate that. I did wonder whether to apply at all, given our past together, but…” you shrug. “It’s the Enterprise. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come around every day. I had to try. And… we’re adults. I trust you.”
His eyes warm. “Thank you for that. I appreciate it.” He stands, expression going a little distant, and you stand too. “Well. I’d better not keep you; I’m sure you’ll want to get settled in.”
“Yes, sir.” You head toward the door, turning as it swishes open. You wonder from his expression if he’s about to say something else, but he doesn’t.
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You leave the ready room feeling… you’re not sure. Positive, you decide. You knew Pike wasn’t the sort of person to approve a transfer for the wrong reasons, but it was good to have the confirmation that there were no… expectations there.
And there shouldn’t be expectations.
You’re professionals.
You head to your quarters, casting about for something to do. You unpack a few more things: a little model of the Pemberley, your parents’ ship, that you used to play with as a child; a holo-sculpture of a tree that morphs from wood to metal and back again by the artist whose work you saw at Starbase 90; the Lezanian singing stone you colleagues on Starbase 58 gave you as a goodbye present, and your jewellery box. You don’t have a huge collection; just a few pieces that are special. You stare at the box, thinking about your favourite necklace and… …no. You put the box down. You can unpack more later.
You bounce on your toes. You feel like you need to get moving; you were cooped up on Lizzie for too long. That must be it. You synthesise an ENTER tee, change into workout wear, and consult the computer to find a gym.
A session with a punching bag helps you burn off some of that excess energy, but you still need to centre yourself. Target practice helps, even though you aren’t at your best for shooting things. You find yourself getting into the zone as you focus on the targets, though, and by the end the computer informs you that you made the top ten on the week’s leader board. That isn’t too bad, but you expect to top it – you were always competing for first place on the Cooper and the De Milo, so there’s room for improvement.
You return to your quarters in a much clearer frame of mind.
Now you need some answers.
You shower, then synthesise a glass of water and curl up on your new sofa, pulling your blanket over you. You take a moment to run your fingers over the soft yarn, picking out a square which exactly matches your uniform.
“Computer, play the Captain’s logs, starting with stardate—stardate… uh… six weeks ago.”
“We are investigating the third planet of the Kappa Agri system. Science Officer Spock wants to collect samples of the local flora, in hopes that…”
The first few entries are mundane; Number One led an away mission to gather specimens which may be useful in developing treatments for Doratrian flu. Then a couple days at warp, with a battle drill one day, and a squash tournament the next.
The next one starts innocuously, too. “We are in orbit of Rigel VII, preparing to explore an abandoned fortress built by the Kalar, the native species of this planet. Our Xenoanthropology specialists are eager to learn more about this species; they have features in common with Earth’s long-extinct Neanderthals, but at a much later stage of development. We have to be mindful of General Order One, of course, but Security Chief MacDonald is confident we can investigate undetected by the local populace.”
“Captain’s log, supplemental.” Pike looks… like you’ve never seen him before. His hair is all over this place, his gold jacket is torn, and you can see a bloody scratch across his torso. His shoulders are slumped, his jaw is tight; the way he holds himself—he’s smaller somehow. And his eyes… he looks past the camera, haunted. “The fortress was occupied. We’ve lost Chief MacDonald. Boyce – the whole medical team – are doing their best, but the injuries were severe. It doesn’t look like Commander Gurvren will make it. It’s touch and go for Specialist Li. Lieutenant Commander Jasper, Lieutenant Harmon, Ensign T’Gira, and Crewman Sh’Sandreth are all in a stable condition but are too severely injured to operate on in sickbay; medical is keeping them in stasis and we’re en route to the Vega Colony where they can get the life-saving treatments they need. It’s likely that… well. Ensign Spock, Lieutenant Tyler, and Crewman Fisher were injured too, but they’ve been discharged.” He looks down at his chest, as if noticing his wound for the first time. “I know I should have prevented this. End log.”
You exhale. You knew it must have been bad, but Chris’—Pike’s expression… that defeated tone…
You remember fellow crew members who have been lost in the past. Ensign Carter, a geologist who had been in the same class at the academy as you, and served with you on the De Milo. You hadn’t been on that away mission, but you heard that he wouldn’t leave his project when the volcano he was taking readings on started erupting unexpectedly. You didn’t know him well, but his death shook you; you learned there was a fine line between persistence and recklessness.
And then on the Cooper, on a mission you were part of. You knew the negotiations between the Beneru Lunar Royalty and the Gemiri Planetary Authority would be dangerous because there was so much at stake. But there was so much at stake; if they could reach a resolution millions of lives would be saved. Lieutenant Ricci was the one who took the sniper’s shot instead of the Gemirian president, not you, but it could have been you. And you knew that as painful as it was to lose a colleague, she would have been satisfied that her sacrifice wasn’t in vain, and if you had been the one in that position instead of her, you would have been too.
But as you look up the security logs – what there is of them, anyway – this is different.
That fortress… the scans showed there were blind spots. Science had done its job, providing the data. The mineral composition would be one tricorders had issues with; the ship’s scanners did. And knowing that, the preparation just wasn’t there. Security is everyone’s responsibility, to an extent, but as a security officer you have to be the one to ask the right questions, if other people haven’t. It’s your primary concern.
And on the ground, security had apparently just assumed the castle was abandoned; they hadn’t proceeded with any degree of caution.
You watch the next few of the captain’s logs. Pike at least looks the part, uniform and appearance neat and correct, as he dispassionately details one funeral, then another, then another.
You imagine all the other attendant duties that go with that: Compiling the after-action report.  Reviewing death certificates. Contacting families.
It’s no wonder that by the last one he looks tired and drawn.
“Computer, end playback.”
At least you know what happened. Why you’re here.
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lifewouldbebetteronmars · 3 years ago
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Castle Towers Fall
Chapter 14 *Angst Warning* *TW Blood*
Cordelia sat down in a chair with her baby brother and held him in her arms. He was sleeping now and she envies him.
She envies him for his world not being shaken up like hers just was. She envies him for being able to sleep as the drama started to unfold. He doesn’t understand what’s happening right now. That their older brother, isn’t really their older brother.
But that’s crazy because Alastair is her brother. He will always be her big brother who has protected her since the beginning. She can’t see him any other way, she wants to say it doesn’t matter that they have different fathers and that their mother lied to them for years. But she can’t.
Cordelia just wants to pretend that she didn’t hear her mother say they don’t have the same father, but how can she?
So she envies her baby brother for not understanding this, for not understanding that her world just came crashing down.
And Alastair’s did too.
Oh poor Alastair, oh her poor dâdâsh. He didn’t deserve this. Out of everyone, he didn’t deserve this to happen to him.
“Cordelia?” Cordelia turned toward the voice to see Thomas Lightwood.
“What are you doing here?” she asks quietly, trying not to wake the baby.
Thomas shrugged and sat down next to her. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I came to make sure every one was alright, Alastair didn’t look too good when you left earlier. Neither did you to be frank. Is everything alright?”
Cordelia didn’t particularly know how to answer that. It wouldn’t be fair to drag Thomas into her family’s drama. And she was sure Alastair wouldn’t want that.
“Yes. Alastair and our mother are just having a chat, which means I get to bond more with our baby brother. Alastair’s going to be so jealous.”
She tried to make her voice sound upbeat, but she knew she had failed by the look on Thomas’s face. But he didn’t mention it and just continued talking like normal.
“Does he have a name?” he said, looking down at the baby.
Cordelia shrugged. “Not yet. Mâmân hasn’t told us yet what she’s had in mind.”
“He’s kind of looks like Alastair.”
Thomas let out a small laugh when the baby smiled in his sleep.
“That he does. Luckily Alastair was adorable as a child. If he wasn’t, that would be an insult.”
“I don’t think I would believe you if you told me Alastair wasn’t cute as a child, he’s the kind of person who’s always looked cute, even-” he was blushing as he slapped a hand over his mouth. “I mean-”
Cordelia interrupted him. “It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone. And you do realize I saw you two in the library today, I’m not blind.” 
He blushed even redder at that, the red flush spreading from the tips of his ears and down his neck.
She continued on, in spite of his embarrassment. “And I think you’d be a good match for my brother. Providing that you don’t hurt him like his last lover did, Cortana and I would have a field day with you if you treat him badly. Not to mention Risa, she definitely wouldn’t like it either.”
Thomas gulped at her threat and nodded slowly.
“I promise that I have no intention of hurting Alastair. Not more than I already have, anyway.”
I would rather you hadn’t hurt him at all. She thought to herself. Cordelia didn’t know what exactly between Alastair and the Merry Thieves, but she knew that she didn’t like the way they had been treating her brother.
“Good because you’re one of James’s friends and I don’t fancy hurti-Alastair?!?”
She was cut off by her brother running from their mother’s room in near-tears. It seemed his fight-or-flight instinct had kicked in, this time in flight.
What happened in their mother’s room? Did he not like what he heard?
“Alastair! Dâdâsh, wait!” she said and almost ran out after him, nearly forgetting she had the baby until he squirmed at the sudden movement.
She turned to Thomas. “Do you mind holding the baby while I go find Alastair?”
“Of course not.” She was about to shift the baby into Thomas’s arms when the voice of her cousin Jem-Brother Zachariah-started to ring through her head.
Cordelia, your mother needs you. She wants you in her room, immediately. She was sure that if his face could show emotion, her cousin’s face would be twisted in concern.
Cordelia looked around, distraught and torn between the two problems at hand. Should she go to her mother? Or go and find her brother?
“Cordelia, go. Your mother needs you, it must be important. I’ll go find Alastair.” Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled reassuringly.
She nodded at him and he turned in the direction Alastair had ran in, he couldn’t have gone far, she thought. He wouldn’t leave in a time like this.
But she pushed that thought out of her mind, as she started to follow her cousin back to her mother’s room. Cordelia walked in to see Risa trying to comfort her mother who was sobbing and breathing heavily, her skin noticeably paler.
“Risa? Mâmân? What’s going on?”
And that was when she saw the blood staining her mother’s sheets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dun…dun…dun!!!!
Seriously guys don’t kill me
Tagging
@youwerealwaysmysecret
@styxdrawings
@imchaotic-dontmindme
@devikaontheoffbeat
@banescrown
@kit-herondale-blackthorrn
@fantasy-rep
@king1pin
@the-come-n-stare-family
@lovelaces
@interestingdork
@doitforthecarstairs
@crispynun
@littlx-songbxrd
@regalremedy
@lightwoodmiau
@buttcrflys-rose
@alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1
@fatilightwood
@melanielocke
@writeordie-4
@thomas-thedavid-lightwood
Okay reminder, if you’re on the tag list and you change your URL, let me know
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icycoolslushie · 3 years ago
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THG Thomastair AU
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“I wish we could find sanctuary,” Thomas said. “You know, with shelter and such.”
“But Thomas,” Alastair said, “you are my sanctuary.”
TW/CW: If you're reading this, you've probably read The Hunger Games books or watched the movies so this has the same stuff as in them!
Idea // OG post // Ask
Disclaimers: This has headcanons along with snippets. Hopefully it's not OOC. Any Persian is what my Iranian friend told me. I like to headcanon that all the districts have their own language. Warning: The plot might be non-existent. Also, if you see any kind of mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc.) please let me know! Kinda long :)
Thomas is from District 7
Alastair is from District 11
The president is Josiah Wayland
The Head Gamemaker is Maurice Bridgestock
Eugenia is part of a group to overthrow the Capitol
Barbara and Oliver died in a previous Hunger Games
It was like it was in the books
Alastair used to be in a relationship with Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, Charlotte Fairchild
Risa is Sona’s sister so Alastair’s aunt
Alastair volunteers for Cordelia
Cordelia struggles with him and finally says in “I love you” in Persian (dooset daram) before Alastair goes on the train
Cordelia is like Prim
Alastair’s mentor is Ragnor Fell
They be sassy together
Thomas’s mentor is Charlotte
Alastair’s stylist tells him Alastair should dye his hair back to black
In the opening ceremony, Thomas dresses as a tree and Alastair thinks how Thomas makes “a boring costume look beautiful”
Alastair has a suit on with leaves embroidered on it which Thomas later tells him “it was like nature blessed you”
Jem may or may not be an Avox Jem is Alastair’s Avox
Thomas Tanner is Thomas’s Avox
For training Alastair throws spears and pulls a 8
Thomas uses a broadsword in training and pulls an 8 as well
Thomas gets a compass rose tattoo from his stylist for the interview
The arena has a structure that looks like the Eiffel Tower at one end
The arena is covered in forests, except for the Cornucopia
When the canon sounds, Alastair runs toward the Cornucopia and escapes with a dagger to the forest
Thomas runs straight (ha!) into the forest
9 children die in the initial bloodbath
Alastair and Thomas both spend the night in trees about ten minutes away from each other
In the morning, Alastair hears rustling and eventually confronts Thomas
They first try to kill each other, but then they hear someone else and work together to fight the District 9 male tribute
Alastair puts his dagger at the tribute’s throat and stabs him there
Alastair doesn’t want to partner up and vice versa
“Alastair—I think you’d be a great person to team up with, but I . . . I don’t want to team up with you. I don’t want to team up with anyone. We—we might survive till the end, and then—” “No, Thomas, I understand. We’ll pretend this never happened. We’ll go our separate ways.” Thomas nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Part of him had been hoping Alastair would disagree with him, even when it was reasonable. He ignored it and set about laying the food they’d gathered.
But they gather food and decide they’ll have a meal together and then go their separate ways
They make a meal of some fruits they find on trees and on the ground
Thomas just cannot eat the celery
They part ways
By the second night, fourteen people in total are dead
Thomas goes to the Eiffel Tower structure the next day
He climbs onto the first level and greets Alastair
Alastair’s leg is wounded
Alastair explains that the Careers fought him
The Careers include Augustus Pounceby and Clive Cartwright
“Tell me. Tell me who hurt you. I’ll kill them.” Alastair had never seen anyone so angry on his behalf that it unnerved him. “It doesn’t matter, it was the Capitol—” “Don’t,” Thomas said quietly. “Don’t try to downplay it. I want to make them pay.” Alastair paused. After a minute he said, “It was the Careers. The District 1 and 2 tribute. Augustus and Clive. They climbed onto here and started fighting me. I gave Augustus a good cut on the arm and Clive a nice scar on his cheek but they overpowered me. Augustus stabbed my leg. They left laughing.” “They didn’t finish you off?” Alastair shook his head. “I think they . . . wanted me to suffer. It isn’t like I can go anywhere, and I have no allies, so probably wanted to come back tomorrow and then finish me off. But it’s not like I’m going to last that long.” The last sentence caught Thomas off guard. “What?” “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Thomas thought about the District 1 tribute, Augustus, who had been saying that Barbara was weak before the Opening Ceremony. That Barbara, who had gotten him out of a scuffle with a Peacekeeper, was weak. That Barbara, who had volunteered for her cousin in the Reaping, was weak. He thought about the hate he had felt for the Career. Then he thought about graceful, elegant, bleeding Alastair in front of him, the way he had hugged his sister, the way he guarded himself, and decided. “No,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you.”
Thomas bandages Alastair’s wound
“Alastair, you’re hurt. Please let me wrap your leg in leaves and vines.” “Thomas, you don’t understand. I’ve always bandaged my own wounds. It’s not going to change now.” “Sometimes,” Thomas said, “it’s better to let others take care of you. They do a better job than you realize. Alastair, please. You’re bleeding. Let me help.” Alastair saw something in Thomas’s eyes: truth. He thought back to how many people would want to help him: his father, his mother, his aunt Risa . . . when he was young. As he grew up, all of them faced the same cruel system and all of them were expected to take care of their own wounds. Now, here was someone willing to help him when he should be killing him. It gave Alastair such a feeling of care and belonging that he nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone take care of him for once.
They eventually decide to team up
Thomas makes a meal out of things he finds in the forest
He and Alastair eat it
Alastair heals from his wound
By that night, nineteen people are dead
Augustus, Clive, and the District 8 female tribute are still alive along with them
Alastair takes first watch during the night, Thomas takes the second
Alastair gently moved his fingers across the compass rose tattoo that Thomas had gotten from his stylist. He felt Thomas’s pulse. He promised himself that that pulse would go on even when his own didn’t.
The next day Alastair and Thomas set off (Alastair’s leg is healed)
Augustus and Clive are waiting for them
Thomas kills Augustus, attacking with A LOT of force
Clive gets a good hit on Thomas with a sword on his left arm
Alastair and Clive fight, Clive flees finally while he’s bleeding from a dozen cuts
Alastair bandages Thomas’s wound with leaves and vines
“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.” “Thomas—Thomas, you’ve lost too much blood. You’re going delirious.” Thomas sighed softly. “I would go delirious if that meant I could hear you say my name one more time.”
They get a sponsor gift: a whole meal of steak and sides, which they finish that day
When Alastair bites into an apple, Thomas wants to kiss him
Both of them fall asleep at night
When they wake up, they’re in a prison; a Capitol prison
They were in prison. But even if they were in hell, Alastair wouldn’t have minded. They were together.
They lie in each other’s arms, seeking warmth
“Why are we in prison? What did we do?” Alastair demanded, getting up as Josiah Wayland stuck his ugly face in front of the bars. President Wayland’s lip curled. “It isn’t you that did something, it’s your family.” Thomas gasped sharply. “Eugenia.” The president smiled cruelly. “So you do know her crime.” Thomas swallowed. Alastair put his hand in Thomas’s. “What did my family do?” Alastair asked, trying to change the topic. “Why, your sister did the same thing,” Josiah Wayland said. This time Alastair gave a sharp gasp. Thomas squeezed his hand, and Alastair drew a bit of comfort from him. But his mind was on Cordelia, his little sister, what would happen to her— Wayland, the monster he was, smiled wider as he saw Alastair and Thomas despairing their sisters’ fate.
Cordelia joined the same rebel group Eugenia was in
“But why are we here? What did they do that you had to take us out of the Games?” Thomas demanded when he had finally calmed down. It seemed that all the Lightwood siblings would all die in their youth. “As soon as they are in our custody, they will be executed. In front of you two. Everyone thinks the two of you killed each other. After they’re dead, both of you will be executed.” Thomas swallowed. “Why? Why will you execute us?” “Your sisters should have thought about your safety before they did what they did. At least you’ll be able to tell them goodbye. If the executioners give you the chance,” President Wayland added before he gave another cruel smile and left.
Thomas and Alastair despair over their and their sisters’ fates
“We’ll fight them. I don’t care. We’ll fight the Capitol. We’ll make them pay for what they did to Barbara and Oliver and Jem and Will and Tessa and my mom and every single person they hurt. We’ll make them pay, Alastair.”
Thomas sighed. “If only we had hope.” “I don’t think about hope, Thomas. I think about you. You’re my hope.” And now I’m going to lose you, Alastair wanted to add, but he didn’t. And then I won’t have any hope left.
“The odds were never in our favour, Thomas,” Alastair whispered, closing his eyes. Then he added softly, “And they never will be.”
Letter addressed to Alastair Carstairs, District 11 male tribute of the 56th Hunger Games, from Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, found crumpled in a trash bin of the Training Center floor 11
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Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer Also tagging @jurdan-my-beloved who originally requested the headcanons and @youngreckless Lmk if you wanna be added or removed!
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astriefer · 4 years ago
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Please have this messy, badly written scenario as a humble gift to you, because I wanted to do something since I reached 200 followers!
Bits of Truth
They stood in front of the Carstairs' townhouse in Cornwall Gardens. Christopher seemed mildly confused about what they were doing there as if he had not been paying attention. James shared one last glance with Thomas before he knocked on the door.
A few bits of silence flew by, in which they had held their breaths. Then footsteps tapped on the floor, and the door cracked open.
A wave of relief passed through James that not Sona nor Risa or any other maid came to open the door. Then he thought what a peculiar thought it was for him to be relieved by. Alastair looked at them, frozen in place, blinking a few times as if he didn't believe they were truly there. He rejoined his composure hastily. He didn't let them in - he stood in the front door and his eyes searched theirs for an explanation. It was like a weird staring contest. Eventually, Alastair spoke first. "Cordelia is not here. You know it fairly well."
He moved to close the door. "We haven't come for Cordelia," he said quickly, which received another incredulous glance from Alastair. "Well, we have. But not because we thought she'd show up here. We came to talk to you."
Alastair narrowed his eyes, expressionless, and considered James. Then he glanced at Christopher and Thomas, noting their desperate eyes. "About my sister?"
"We won't take long," promised James, despite he wasn't sure it's true. Alastair studied him, and James felt himself going rigid. He leveled Alastair with his indecipherable gaze.
Then Alastair had stepped back from the door and ushered them in. "My mother is in her bedroom, resting, and Risa went shopping for supper. So, you have to be quiet. Make it quick.'
~~~~
Alastair took their coats and tilted his head towered the parlor. A kettle whiselted in the kitchen. As he gestured them inside he turned the other way. A fire burned in the chimney, and a book rested peacefully on the armchair. When James examined closer he discovered it was written in Persian. Thomas mumbled something about Persian poetry.
Alastair came inside with a tray and James thought he was, for a change, being hospitable, but he ignored them and disappeared up the stairs. When he got back, empty-handed, James assumed the tea was for his mother. Alastair placed the book on the table as he sat down in front of them. Thomas and Christopher set on a love sofa and James set stoned on another armchair. He didn't waste time being the kind host, James presumed. "What it is about my sister?"
The golden-eyed boy decided the best tactic was started from what he knew. That wasn't much, but it was the most important thing, and he was certain about it, at the very least. "I love your sister."
Alastair raised his eyebrows, amused. "Yes, that's something that tends to happen between married couples, I've been told."
James shook his head. "This marriage, of Cordelia and I," just saying her name on his lips made a treacherous skip of his heartbeat, full of hurt and love. "It was a sham marriage."
Alastair pools of dark marble were fixed on James when he explained, rather awkwardly, the events that led to their marriage. And then events that led to Cordelia leaving the country. He prospected Alastair would be outraged, throw spears at them, maybe even recite some very angry poetry phrases in Persian. Instead, Alastair was very still for very long. When he did speak, the words weren't the James expected them to be. "I knew the marriage wasn't out of love," Alastair said calmly. "But I didn't expect you to tell all that rubbish."
James blinked. "It's the truth."
"Oh, I know," Alastair returned with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I doubt you would come up with such a ludicrous idea on your own, even if just to spite me. and I also know Cordelia wouldn't have slept with you unwedded, no matter how much she loved you."
All the thieves caught their breath when Alastair leaned forward, his month curving in an odd angle. "I also know being married to you was a wish she never thought would come true, and that you cared for her. You claimed her as yours and you defended her. It was good for Cordelia, and so I said nothing."
James snorted, although he hadn't found the conversation funny. Not the least. "I thought I loved Grace at that time. I felt bad when the thought of living with Cordelia was more appealing than I expected." The thought of Grace made his features harden. "And because of Grace, for years I've been blind. Manipulated. I lost my wife and Parabatai. She played with me like a doll; messed with my feelings, messed with my life. This is unforgivable."
He did not notice Christopher who tensed up and fixed his spectacles on his nose. "She did some bad things," he said, surprising them all. "But I don't think she's evil."
James furrowed his brow. "She's like a siren: beautiful and compelling, but going after her will only end in you being drowned."
"I see," Alastair said, turning back to James. "But why? Why did she do it?"
"Does it matter?" James asked. "She hurt so many people. She doesn't even deserve to apologize. It won't matter anyhow - the damage is done. After all she has done...sorry will never be enough. Nothing will."
"It matters," Alastair said. "Because you don't know her side of the tale. You don't know what she thinks. What she feels. You don't know if she had to do what she did."
He was tempted to say Grace has no feelings at all. "I believe I'm allowed to be angry."
"I do agree that what she had done to you is far above a jest or a play with hearts," there was a strange flame burning in the deep ponds of Alastair's dark eyes. "And you have no obligation to forgive her. But why not hear what she has to say? You are the one with the power. You know the truth. She can not affect you any longer."
James shook his head. "You don't know Grace," he said coldly, gravely. "She will try to use me. She will try and make me do as she wishes. I will not be a pawn in her game again. She controlled my life long enough."
Alastair glanced away, pondering over something. Thomas turned his head nervously between James and Alastair. For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Thomas inquired, "Why do you insist James will hear her out?"
"You have no idea of her motives," Alastair retorted. "What she's done - she must know it's wrong. And she will have to live with this knowledge for the rest of her days. You are allowed to be angry, James, and rightfully so. But don't let it blind you. That you have been kept from certain kinds of evil doesn't mean everyone else had. You have no clue what led her to those decisions." Alastair looked distanced. James managed to guess he's not been talking only about Grace. "You should talk to her. You may not forgive her, but you deserve to understand, to know why to hear the plain truth. And you should let her mourn what she could have had and lost."
James wasn't sure he fully comprehended. "I wouldn't have loved her. Even without the bracelet issue - my heart belongs to Cordelia."
"What do you mean?" Christopher asked. "That not everyone had been kept from evil."
Alastair shrugged. "I met Tatiana Blackthorn only once. She's a madwoman. She doesn't seem like the kind of caring, kind mother to pet her daughter's shoulder. Besides, Grace seemed to be controlled by Tatiana, rather than working alone or alongside her."
"She took the love of my life away from me," James growled. "Nothing can atone for that."
"The love of your life is my sister," he reminded James. "I can hardly find the idea of her being heartbroken a good thing. And the one who caused this pain is not much liked, as well. But you shouldn't think that just because you would've done it otherwise, it was an option for her. You can't know what are the options in front of people. You can't know how they feel unless you talk to them. So talk to Grace, James. Then seek out my sister. If you love her like you claim you do, will you give up on her so easily?"
"No," James stood up, "I will not."
Alastair nodded. "why did you come and tell me about your little schemes? Why now?"
Now, after so much time of lying, why tell the truth? Why not keep it in its cage of delicately made lies?
James cut his gaze to the book on the table. Thomas answered instead in a quiet voice. "She is your sister. You must have been worried about her. We wanted to tell you because - because you deserve to know the truth and understand why things happened the way they did."
What Thomas did not say was what none of them wanted to admit. Cordelia ran away to Paris with Matthew. Even if she'll be back in only two weeks - they all were worried sick. James couldn't blame her, he was awful and blind. All of this was a mess. If she needed time to calm down in Paris, he couldn't deny it of her, even if he had a say in this choice.
Alastair studied Thomas, and James felt the half-Persian hadn't quite believed them. It was true - they needed his help in the future. But it was a start. "Anything else? A ghost friend? Another evil aunt?"
"No," Christopher affirmed.
"Good," Alastair said. James might have imagined it but he thought he saw Alastair sneak a glance at Thomas before standing up. "Now get out of my house. Risa will be here any minute."
~~~~
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I- how?? Thank you so much, everyone!! 🙈 Thank you, you can't understand how much it means to me. 🥺
This is mind-blowing. Truly. For whatever reason you follow me, know that I love you <3
Tagging some of my mutuals, you are all wonderful and make my time here so much better (not all of them because my brain is all wonky, but I mean all of you): @kit-12 @littlx-songbxrd @pink-party-dino @shadowhuntertrash @gummybears-4u @itsdaughterofthemoon @mcrrythievcs @fictionally-fantastic @reyna-herondale I'll tag more but I don't want to bother anyone so... thank you!! I don't know what people find in my blog, but I am grateful, and I appreciate all of you endlessly.
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rainingpouringetc · 4 years ago
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day 7 - chocolates
“Alastair? There’s a very handsome man standing on our doorstep. I think perhaps you should invite him in.”
Alastair could practically hear Cordelia’s grin through the door. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling before rising and crossing the room. He pulled the door open, and, sure enough, his sister was beaming up at him just outside. He considered her for a moment, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. “Where’s Risa?”
“At the market with Mother.”
“Father?��
“Clave meeting. And I,” she said with a wink, “am at the park with James. Or I will be in about fifteen minutes.” Seeing his hesitation, she let out a laugh and pulled him downstairs by the arm—despite his many protests—and nudged him toward the door before slipping into the kitchen, where Alastair suspected she would sneak out the back door.
He took a moment to collect himself and breathe deeply before he opened the door. When he saw Thomas standing there, he became very glad that he had.
Thomas always had a certain presence to him, but something about the way he snapped his head up and smiled shyly, or the way he was fidgeting with his sleeve, or the thin box he was holding was suddenly overwhelming to Alastair. He thought he might’ve forgotten to breathe for a few moments.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked once he regained control of his motor functions. 
Thomas nodded quickly and stepped over the threshold, waiting politely in the antechamber for Alastair to close the door behind him and turn around. Before Alastair could get another word in, Thomas shoved the box toward him. “These are for you.”
Alastair accepted them, though a bit tentatively, and looked up to Thomas in question. Thomas simply smiled and glanced down at the box. Taking that as instruction enough, Alastair slid the lid off the box to behold its contents.
Chocolates.
More specifically, chocolates Alastair had first tasted in Paris during his travel year and fallen in love with. He’d never seen them anywhere else.
“I remembered they were your favorites,” Thomas was explaining, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did some poking around and found a little shop across the city that sells them. I’m not sure how much like the originals they are, but I thought—”
“Thank you,” Alastair said sincerely. He met Thomas’s eyes, overwhelmed again by that feeling, by that—
Love.
That’s what was coiling in his stomach and squeezing his chest.
Love, he realized, was showing up unannounced—unprompted—with his favorite chocolates.
Unsure how to voice this, he stood, staring, for several moments, opening and shutting his mouth a few times. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Thomas’s neck and burying his head in his shoulder. He felt Thomas return the gesture and drop a kiss on the top of his head, making his heart melt further.
When they pulled apart, Alastair plucked two chocolates from the box—one for him, one for Thomas. As they ate together, Alastair thought warmly, So this is what love tastes like.
i totally forgot about this until twenty minutes ago soooo i’m sorry lol. i hope you liked this! i feel like we need some fluff after the angst storm that was the thomastair letters and the musicale and... yeah, that whole mess.
°tags° @littlx-songbxrd @knifescythe @stxr-thxif @swifty-the-rake @itsdaughterofthemoon @lifewouldbebetteronmars @doitforthecarstairs @imherongraystairstrash @superboperamongerapricot @alastaircarstairsourboi @hufflepuffyskam [let me know if you want to be added!]
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That ask with the ice cubes was not only adorable/sexy as HECK, but also made me "aww" at Sooga wishing he could surprise Kohga with kinky fun too. So I guess this is an ask: what if there WAS something Sooga could think of to surprise his hubby in the same way, doing something kinky to Kohga? Honestly I think anything where Sooga takes charge would make Kohga swoon, especially if it's something public
I thought of just the fucking thing for you, anon!
"Vai! Settle down now, settle down!"
Sooga watched as the women hurried inside the building, damn near giddy. He couldn't believe he was doing this. But something...happened today, and it made him desperate. He snuck inside the bushes right by the doorway, peering into the class. The woman at the front cleared her throat, demanding attention.
"Alright, pay attention now! We have a new topic to dive into today; surprising your voe! Surprising your voe will keep a relationship fun, exciting even. Dina, let's assume you are already in a relationship with a voe. How do you surprise him?"
"Oh, what about new clothes? Something that compliments the frame?"
"Very simple, very nice! Good job, Dina."
Sooga scribbled what he could into his journal. Anything was helpful, and everything was worth noting.
"Let's see-Risa! Say you want to surprise your voe, give us something out of the blue."
"Choke him?"
"I...well I mean, TECHNICALLY you aren't wrong, but. You know what, I'm just gonna let you have that one."
That was more Sooga’s league, but it was still worth noting. He scribbled more, and listened on.
"Okay, Pasha. Pasha? PASHA!!"
Her yell scared not only the woman inside, but Sooga as well. He dropped his pencil, and watched helplessly as the pencil rolled away from him. He watched it until it came to a complete stop. He COULD reach it, if he was careful. He looked into the room, and seeing that they hadn't noticed anything, reacher for the pencil. Further, further...when his fingertips touched the pencil, there was a blade's end right at his face. He looked up, and mentally swore. Her blade was in his face, and two spears were pointed at him as well. As Kohga would say, 'I'm fucked'.
"A voe. A YIGA voe. Get up. Slowly."
Sooga obeyed, keeping his hands up in the air as he rose. The pink haired one stepped closer to him, nearly pressing her body against his.
"Why are you here? Attempting to kill us?"
"I say we cut off his dick and shove it down his throat, make him choke on it."
They all turned to look at Risa, even Sooga had to mentally go 'what the fuck'. She met their eyes, shrugging.
"Too much?"
"Yes, Risa, too much. But the thought was there."
"He has yet to answer us. Why WERE you in the bushes? You a pervert?"
"Without trying to be rude- ew. No, I wasn't doing any perverse thing with any of you. I...I wanted to attend your class."
They all looked taken aback. They turned to their teacher, who huffed, bringing her face closer to his. It was intimidating of a stance, and he would've been less terrified, had it been a man.
"You. Want to attend a class...where vai's try to date and marry voe's? But. YOU are a voe, are you not?"
"I am. But...my relationship with MY voe is...struggling. I want to please him, terribly. I heard of your class, and I was hoping, honestly, genuinely hoping I could learn something. Anything."
Risa cocked her head to the side.
"Wait. If you wanted to join, why didn't you just take the form of a fellow Gerudo?"
Sooga opened his mouth, only to shut it. Shit. That would've been a good idea.
"I...I wished I thought of that. This is...embarrassing."
Their teacher looked him up and down, before stepping back, and tucking her weapon away.
"We will help you."
"You will?!"
"We will?!"
"Yes. A voe who does something so stupid for the sake of another, is a voe truly in love. Grab your pen and come inside. You will get ONE class, so take in what you can."
"Yes-er, sorry, didn't catch your name."
"Ashai. Yours?"
"Sooga. It's a pleasure, and an honor."
They allowed him an empty seat as they walked in. They seemed uncomfortable with him, but that didn't matter. He needed to learn something, ANYTHING. Ashai wrote on the board, pointing to it.
"We will skip lessons one through three, given that you are already in a relationship. So, lesson four, 'how to attend to your voe's needs'."
-----------------------------
"Anyone seen Sooga? I haven't heard from him, and he hasn't arrived when I called."
The other blade masters shrugged, not having seen the man since last night. He was about to ask Von, when his slate went off. A text from Sooga.
'I left you something in your room. On the nightstand.'
Weird. Kohga went anyway, and saw it when he walked into the room. A huge vase full of mighty thistles. How cute.
"Oh...you idiot."
He walked up to it, and looked at the tag that hung from the silken ribbon.
"'Boo'? The hell does-"
Suddenly Kohga was yanked backwards. His face was grabbed rather roughly, and lips were smashed onto his. Kohga was about to stomp on the assailants foot, when that all too familiar voice cooed against his lips.
"Did I scare you?"
"Fucking hell, Sooga- thought I was gonna have to beat your ass for a second. Yeah, you got me, you really did, big boy. This why I couldn't find you this morning?"
"I've been getting a surprise for you, yes. It's not just those flowers."
Kohga chuckled, lifting a hand up to pinch his cheek.
"Oh look at you. You look damn near smug. Is it poetry?"
"No. But there WILL be something that sounds just as sweet, my Master."
He kissed his hand, before grabbing it, and forcing them both behind his back. Kohga tried to move them, when he suddenly found them bound by rope. Tightly. Kohga looked confused for a second, before he chuckled.
"Sooga! You naughty dog you! What are you planning?"
"You'll see. Now walk."
Sooga was being plenty rude today, giving him a little shove to get him walking, and holy SHIT did Kohga find it hot. Big, stud man, shoving him around, tying him up, bossing him around. He led him to their bed, before gesturing to the other gift he got him; giant mirror. Kohga chuckled.
"Aw, you got me another present. It's nice. What next, chocolates?"
"On the bed."
Sooga was NOT in the mood for playing, he seemed. He obeyed, sitting down on the bed. Sooga crawled in behind him, and helped Kohga put his arms up.
"You know how beautiful I think you are? You don't truly understand. The way I look at you. The way I crave you. Now, thanks to your gift, you're going to SEE what I mean."
Kohga was about to ask what he meant, before his arms were lifted above his head, and his bound hands were tied to the wooden support beam above them. Kohga snickered, giving them a good tug, just to test the knot.
"Good tying on this, it's sturdy. But I thought you LIKED it when I used my hands."
"I do. I really, really do. But you’re mischievous with them,"
Sooga sat down behind him, letting his own hands caress his frame. Sooga's hands were slow, loving, and in a 'hurry the fuck up' kinda way, it was hot.
"Your hands make me forget what I'm doing. So, in order to show you what I can do, you're going to playing games under MY rules."
"Am I really THAT much for you, Sooga?"
"Yes and no. Yes, because your hands are unrivaled, but no, because we both know if you wanted to, you could escape from your confines at any time. You're just being nice. And that's another thing I like about you."
Kohga felt his breath hitch as Sooga grabbed his throat, forcing him to look at the mirror. Oh the LOOK Sooga was giving him. Was this what he looked like when he couldn’t see his face directly? He tried to keep his signature smirk, really he did, but holy shit was it...hard.
"I like many things about you. I like how you look in my arms. I like how your eyes soften when you see me. I like how you know you're the most attractive man I've ever known."
There was a small kiss to his jaw, before Sooga had to hold him still, given the sudden tight grip onto his ass.
"I like your body. I like your ass. It's full, it's perfect, and it is MINE."
His hand pulled at the yiga attire, not caring what ripped and tore. Kohga gasped at the absolute GALL in this man.
"Sooga my CLOTHES! You know those are-"
"I like the way you fucking whine,"
His grip was tighter on his throat, Sooga’s voice grew huskier.
"When you want to act like a brat. It's adorable. I like your stomach, it gives me so much for me to hold."
Kohga couldn’t believe he wasn’t saying shit as Sooga grabbed handfuls of his poochy tummy, playing with his fat in the same way one would a breast.
"We all think about it. But only I get to touch it. Only I get to fill it, full of food, of my love. Fucking hell, you drive me crazy."
Sooga forced his legs to part, before grabbing at his hard cock, slowly stroking it in his hand.
"Like your cock. God I love your cock. It's thick, it's gorgeous. It feels so good in my hand. I like how you squirm because you want me to go faster. You're SO impatient. You want what you want, and you want it when you want it. It's sexy, in a way, knowing you won't wait for what you deserve. I admire that about you."
Sooga held him still as he pumped his cock, slowly and firmly, enough to make Kohga squirm. Sooga was a bastard, KNOWING how he hated this stupid slow and sweet approach. He wanted it fast, hard, and raw. But Sooga was in charge right now, and that was hotter than anything. Sooga kept going; chin resting on his shoulder as he listened to his breaths, and until his hand was covered in a thick layer of precum. He pushed Kohga’s mask up, just enough to reveal his lips.
"I love your lips. The way you kiss, the way you eat, the way you talk. Anytime I see your mouth do anything...it makes me want jump over the table, and fuck you. How I keep my composure around you, I have no idea. Your lips are...so greedy. They take anything they are given."
Sooga proved it, shoving two fingers into his mouth, letting them slide back and forth across his tongue, back and forth, making drool dribble down his lips. He could taste his own precum on his fingers, and it was absolutely gross. Suffice to say, Kohga was fucking throbbing.
"That's it. Drool for me. Get that pretty mouth ready for me. I like feeling your precious mouth take what I want to give it, and do so oh so hungrily. You're so greedy. Never satisfied. Ever hungry. I adore that about you."
Sooga pulled his hand away, and even got out of bed, standing right next to Kohga. Kohga licked his lips, trying to look SOMEWHAT composed. Even behind locked doors, he had SOME reputation to uphold.
"Open."
Sooga grabbed onto his head, pushing it back as he shoved his cock right into his mouth. Kohga hated how good it felt, essentially being forced to suck on the slowly moving gerth in his mouth. Sooga hated it too, given the way he swore under his breath, the way his face softened once he looked up at him.
"You're going to like this, I know I will. Look at the mirror again."
Kohga looked at the mirror, and holy shit was he a sight. Torn clothes, cock leaking precum, and drool running down his chest as he savored the cock in his mouth. But that wasn't the good part. The good part was when Sooga suddenly shoved himself in fully, balls deep into him. Watching himself not only squirm, but watched as his throat bulged, full of Sooga’s cock.
"Aren't you magnificent? Aren't you wonderful? Aren't you just so cock hungry? Gag for me. I know you can."
Kohga was tempted not to, absolutely stubborn, but they both knew he couldn’t resist it. He liked gagging, he liked being at the mercy of a big, strong man, with his mouth stuffed to the brim with man meat. Sooga smacked his cheek a bit, correcting him as if he were an animal. Then he gagged (with a little bit of help from Sooga really pushing himself in), damn near making Sooga melt upon the feeling. He pulled himself out quickly, actually shaking a little bit.
Poor Sooga. Despite being a big bad dom, he was still the buff cutie who could cum oh too quickly. Kohga grinned, looking up at him.
"Oh come on, you were close! I don't deserve a little treat?"
"You will get the treat I intended for you. As tempting as it would be, you aren't the one in power here."
Kohga was about to say something smart, just to be an ass, when Sooga got behind him again, grabbed a hold of his meaty thighs, and slammed himself right into his ass. Oh the way it sent a shiver up his spine. Sooga grabbed a piece of his torn clothes, before balling it up, and shoving it right into Kohga's mouth.
"I don't want you to talk. I want you to sit here, and watch me fuck you. I want you to be helpless against me. I. Want. YOU."
And boy, Sooga wasn't kidding. He kept his grip on his thighs, slamming himself in and out of his ass. All while Kohga was forced to just sit there, and watched himself get railed. His cock was throbbing and leaking, drool was soaked up by the cloth and was spilling down his chin, and Sooga.
Oh Sooga.
He didn't move his face from his shoulder, letting him hear that quick breathing, his swears, even his animalistic snorts. He, even now, didn't stop meeting his gaze in the mirror. He wanted him to look him in his eyes. He wanted total and complete possession of him. And he could have him. Seeing how his cock pounded into him, seeing how precum slathered over him and only made this sound even wetter. It was gross, it was shameful, and it was driving Kohga CRAZY.
"Look at you. You LIKE it when I fuck you like this. You like taking control sometimes, we know this. But when you submit yourself to me, when you're letting me destroy this ass I love so much- I can tell you like letting me have you. Im going to stuff you full of you cum. Nod if you want that. Nod if you want me to hold you down while I FUCKING breed you."
If Kohga nodded any faster, he'd get a headache. That seemed to be enough for Sooga, who, with a loud swore, came. He didn't stop moving either, making his own orgasm more intense by still stimulating himself. Oh the way the cum was pushed into his ass, the way it soaked onto the sheets below. Sooga sounded exhausted behind him, even the grip on his thighs were shakey. But his voice didn't falter.
"Cum on my fucking cock. NOW."
Then Sooga, supporting him with only one hand, used his other to bring his hand swiftly across his ass. It hurt like a BITCH, and he already knew a bruise was gonna come from that big, open palm. And of course, it made Kohga cum. His cum spilled onto his stomach, his sheets- all while Sooga still slammed his hips against his.
It took a good damn minute for Sooga to finally stop plowing his ass, but when he did, Kohga saw them both panting like hell in the mirror, shining in sweat. Once Sooga seemed to hit that post nut clarity, he removed the gag from his mouth, watching in almost fascination as the drool came pouring from his mouth. Kohga didn't even bother trying to swallow any of his spit- letting it fall wherever it pleased. Kohga gave a light shake of his head.
"Holy....SHIT Sooga. The fuck was all of THAT about?"
"Did you...not like-"
"Ooh don't you start. That was hot as HELL! color me surprised, I didn't expect that from you~"
That was the word he seemed cling to. 'Surprise'. That was what he wanted, apparently, given the sigh of relief he had.
"I wanted nothing more than to surprise you, my Master."
He kissed his forehead, before starting to try to untie his hands.
"So where DID you pick up such a neat little trick?"
"I uhm...took a class."
"You took a CLASS?!"
Kohga had no idea why, but that was SO funny to him. He wanted to laugh, but he immediately say Sooga shrink a little. Guy was so self conscious in this relationship, even from the start. He leaned in to kiss his masked cheek.
"I'm flattered. Really. You did something new, for me. By Ganon you're a sweetie."
Oh the stupid blush on his stupid face. He cleared his throat, continuing to un do his hands.
"I...thank you, Master."
"Uh huh. Can you hurry it up big guy, I need to pee SO fucking bad."
"...I'm hearing 'keep you here'"
"Oh my god you fucking-you are not doing this right now."
"I mean. You're already here, I'm already going to have go clean these sheets ANYWAY-"
"SOOGA."
"Okay okay, I heard you. Had to TRY."
Kohga was stuck with an absolute fucking idiot. And he loved him so much.
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keijikunn · 4 years ago
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The things we do for love
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── A @babythotshq​ collab “Winter Wonderland”
BUILD A SNOWMAN
Pairing: Kunimi Akira x fem!reader  Tags: time skip, fluff Summary: Kunimi Akira learned to love the snow through the years. All because of you.  Word count: ~2.5k
Author’s note: This is my piece of Winter Wonderland, and my Secret Santa is Mimi from @mimi-cee-hq​! It’s the first time I’ve ever written for Kunimi, so I hope I didn’t mess up too much. We don’t talk that much, but you are very dear to me, Mimi! Hope you had a great holiday and an even better New Year!!
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Kunimi Akira hated snow. It bothers him how it wets his clothes, how moving around gets complicated because of the iced streets and, obviously, the cold weather. The boy couldn't see the appeal of the traditional white cover of the winter. He has to wear layers of coats to protect himself, not to mention the constant need to remove the snow from the sidewalk. 
Leaving bed in the morning was hard, going to practice wasn’t pleasant - not that the other days were, in Kunimi’s opinion. Whenever the forecast announced the first snow of the season would fall soon the raven haired boy's mood instantly dropped. As a child, no one could talk to him as soon as he woke up - his young version needed his sweet time to get warm and cozy inside his school uniform. 
The adult life didn’t make it any easier, only adding to his dislike. After moving out of his parents’ house at the beginning of his second year in college, Kunimi faced all the problems of snow by himself. He had to clean up the muddy trail his boots left at the entrance, shoveling all of it every morning before classes and the worst of all, in his opinion, the constant black outs because of heavy snowfall. 
Kunimi absolutely hated snow. 
Contrasting his opinion, there were yours. You loved the iced water that falls during winter, painting Miyagi in white. This season of the year has some magic in it, you couldn’t really explain; but ever since you can remember, early december mornings meant bundling yourself in your thickest coat to play with the first snow. 
His first impression of you wasn’t the greatest, since you were the reason why he got a cold. 
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Kunimi wasn’t in his best humor. 
He adjusted his scarf around his neck, pulling the strings of his hoodie together, trying to prevent the cold wind from hitting his ears. He underestimated mother nature, not believing it could snow as much as it did during the morning while he was in class. Kunimi’s clothes, though they seemed to be warm enough to the cold day of winter, didn’t suit the wetness of melting ice on the street. 
“I hate this.” The boy muttered under his breath, taking another step into a thick layer of snow. His socks, drenched in a ridiculous freezing water, could be enough to stop his blood circulation on his feet. “And people wonder why I despise snow.”
The familiar beige wall of his house appeared on his eyesight, ripping a sigh from his chest. Kunimi was so ready to reach his home, take a long and hot shower and confine himself under his fluffy comforts to sleep. All he needed to do was take a few more steps, then he’ll be- 
A sudden touch on his back made him fall over, his arms barely reacting on time in order to prevent major injuries on himself. The weight of a second body on top of him knocked the air out of his lungs, said sensation intensified by the cold snow wetting the front of his hoodie. His feet were already cold, the tip of his nose was red and now this? Kunimi was fuming to say the least.
“Oh my gosh, Kunimi-kun, I’m so sorry!” He recognized that high pitched tone, it was his neighbour’s daughter, Risa, and an unknown girl trailing behind her. The older one sported an apologetic smile on her face, but her gloves covered in snow gave away she wasn’t that sorry. “I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was building a snowman with my cousin, Y/n, but then she decided to throw snow at me!” 
“Sorry!” She was pretty, Kunimi had to admit it, even though she was wearing a white beanie matching with a scarf hiding almost her entire face. A pang of jealousy struck him at the sight of such a comfortable and warm outfit she’s wearing. 
“Whatever.” Kunimi exhaled deeply, evidencing all his annoyance, not sparing a second glance at both girls. Risa exchanged a few words with her cousin that he couldn’t make out- and he didn’t care at all.
Now he had another reason to arrive quickly at his house. He definitely needed a warm bath. 
No words could describe how pissed off Akira was the next morning, when he woke up with a sore throat and high fever. He didn’t know if he was more angry at nature for having snow as part of it, the pretty cousin of his neighbour or himself for not checking the forecast. Either way, he still was sick and cranky regardless of the blame he desperately wanted to attribute to somebody else besides himself. 
His parents were off to work, leaving him by himself in the house. At least I got to stay in bed the whole day, Kunimi reasoned with himself, letting a content sigh escape his lips. He snuggled into his soft covers, turning to his side to reach out his phone to kill some time. The first thing that caught his eyes was the little icon on his forecast app, indicating it wouldn’t snow that day. Kunimi rolled his eyes at the coincidence, exactly the day when he hadn't to leave his house he checked the weather. 
“I should sleep, it’s not like I have many free days to do whatever I want.” He muttered under his breath, voice raspy and a few octaves lower than usual.
The boy didn’t know how long he slept, but he was harshly pulled off from subconsciousness by a loud knock on his front door. He groaned in annoyance, turning to face the wall, covering his head with the black covers over him. Kunimi thought that pretending no one was at home would make the unexpected visitor leave after a few tries. 
“Kunimi-kun, I know you’re in there. Your parents dropped by Risa’s house asking me to check on you. Heard you’re sick.” A feminine voice shouted, making him wonder how old his parents thought he was. Ask for the neighbours check on me? Am I 7 years old, mom?
Having no choice but to open the door for the strange girl, Kunimi put on the nearest hoodie he found and a disposable mask his dad left on his desk. He didn’t realise the sickness made him weak and gave him body ache- after all, he spent the whole morning lying down. Preparing mentally to have that social interaction, the black haired boy unlocked knob, opening the entrance. 
The familiar beanie, now with a dark blue scarf, hiding almost her entire face - besides her eyes - came into Akira’s sight. Behind the girl, he could see the little path that led the gates to the door was cleared from snow and he wondered when his dad had time to do it between his tight schedule. Focusing once again on the person in front of him, Kunimi noticed a thermal bag in her hands. 
“Hi, Kunimi-kun, I’m Y/n- Risa’s cousin. We met yesterday.” She bowed quickly, minding the object she had in hands. 
“How could I not remember?” Kunimi shot back under his breath, but he knew Y/n heard what he grumpily said, offering him half smile. 
“Your parents stopped by Risa’s house in hopes to talk to her parents, but they’re off on a business trip and I’m babysitting that little rascal,” Y/n started to explain. “They told me you were sick, and I imagined that me and my cousin had some blame on it. So we cleaned the doorstep and I made okayu* and a bottle of shogayu** as apology gifts.”
“You didn’t have to Y/n-san.” He faked a smile, you actually had to, it’s your fault I’m sick. “Thank you for these, though. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it!” She answered passing him the item and slowly stepping away from him. “Get better soon. And next time, wear thicker clothes!”
“Thanks, I will.” Kunimi scoffed, finally closing the door from the outside’s cold weather. 
His first impression of Y/n was terrible. She liked snow, she made him sick and teased him about his questionable choices. Kunimi hoped he’d never see her again. 
Oh, how wrong he was.
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Kunimi’s first encounter with you pulled him out of his slumber, a faint smile on his face as he remembered the very first time he saw you. Almost three years after that, he found himself lying on the bed you share with him. 
Life is funny, huh?
He was quick to notice you weren't there beside him, your side of the mattress still a bit warm - indicating you just left your position. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, the black haired man got up and headed to the bathroom outside his room. The water was unnecessarily cold, though justified by the season: it was winter after all. The exact period of time Akira grew to tolerate by your side. Much to his surprise, since the very first winter you two spent as a couple he watched his words about your favourite weather. 
You were at the living room, staring through the glass door that led to the backyard. The man quickly noticed the reason that captured your attention: the snowflakes danced in the air, slowly falling down. The first snow always captivated you, and Kunimi didn’t understand why, just like he didn’t wrap his head around the fact the iced water could be actually nice. 
“I’m surprised you’re not out there desperately trying to get a cold.” Kunimi teased, voice still husky from the long period of inactivity of his vocal chords. You turned to look at him, a smile plastered on your face. “Good morning, weirdo.”
“Morning, grumpy.” You extended your hand, signalizing the boy to scoot over - which he complied. The sensation of your arms wrapped around his waist was comforting, emanating enough warm to face whatever winter storm that has yet to come. “Will you build a snowman with me?”
“Is this a nicer way to say you want to knock me down on snow just like you did when we first met up?” He asked sarcastically, causing you to let out a loud laugh as you recalled said memory. “I got sick for days that time, it wasn’t good.”
“But I did clean your doorstep and made you food, Akira.” His facade broke at your beautiful smile. Of course you would pull this card, you always did when you two would playfully banter about how Kunimi always manages to get sick after spending some time outside during winter. “And I always take care of you whenever you get sick.”
“Touché, hm?” The pad of his index finger ran softly across your cheek, then Kunimi’s large hand cupped your face lovingly. The man recalled the past three years you spent as a couple, traditionally going out to please you; followed by a couple of days of Akira’s bed rest and tons of missoshiro*** to ease his aching throat from the cold he always manages to get. “Let’s go change clothes, yeah? I know later the snow will be stronger, and I definitely don’t want to be out there when it comes.”
The sparks in your eyes never fails to swell Kunimi’s heart, resulting in a soft look he casts at your back as you retreat to your shared bedroom to change from your fluffy pajamas. As the time passed in your relationship, Kunimi learned how to… tolerate little things he usually doesn’t - all because of you. You definitely changed his sour winter spirit. 
“C’mon, Akira!” You screamed from the other room, too excited to wait any longer for your lazy boyfriend.
“Don’t rush me, woman, the snow won’t melt in five minutes!” 
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Kunimi’s hands were stupidly cold. Even the leather gloves he has on weren’t enough to keep the warmth inside, all because he had to help you build a snowman. It wasn’t working, the snow was too soft to form any shape you wanted, but he hadn’t had the heart to tell you this - not when you were so happy to be in your backyard with him. 
So, instead of complaining, Kunimi kneeled down to scoop more snow, trying to create a well sized ball to be the base of your personal Olaf (he called you dumb for this). After a couple of attempts, and slightly giving up on making in perfectly, the black haired man managed to finish his task. It was falling on the edges, the top slowly crumbling due to its softness and Kunimi held back a scowl at the sight of it. 
“Oh, Akira! You did it,” you beamed happily, bringing a pile of snow that he assumed to be its head, and placed it on the top. The two of you completely ignored the proportion, as the body was way larger than the head, but that didn’t seem to upset you. Instead, you clapped your hands, quickly assembling the branches you found to make its arms and a few stones from your flower pots to make its eyes and mouth. “It would look better if Olaf had his carrot nose, though.”
“No, we’re not using our food in this.” Kunimi quickly denied, earning a huff as response from you. He stood next to you, carefully eyeing the poorly-done snowman, cringing at the fact he actually did it. 
“It looks terrible!” Your sudden comment was followed by you bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Yes, because you can’t wait a few days to play in the snow like a 10-year-old kid.” He said back, bumping his elbow lightly on your side. As you protested at such action, Kunimi decided to unwrap his scarf around his neck, gently putting on the snowman in front of you. “Still looks like shit, but I guess it’s a bit better. Now, let’s go inside before I freeze to death.”
“You wanted to take off your scarf, dumbass!”
“I did it because you’d pout if I didn’t!”
The bickering continued even after the two of you took a nice and hot shower, slipping once again in your pajamas. While you were freshening yourself, Kunimi busied himself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. It probably was a psychological effect, but he could swear his throat already itched a bit, even though any cold barely had the time to affect his system. 
The things we do for love. 
His train of thoughts were quickly interrupted by a tight embrace on his waist and a light pressure on his back. Your perfume overpowered any aroma the food in front of him emanated, filling his senses with the smell he associated as home. His left hand dropped from the pan on the stove, resting it on the top of yours on his abdomen. 
“Thank you for this morning, Akira.” It was such a trivial thing to thank another person, but it wasn’t for you and him. Because you knew he despises snow. 
“You better take care of me when I get sick from this, huh?” He playfully demanded, but he meant well- and you knew it. 
The things I do for love.
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*okayu: Japanese rice porrigde **shogayu: ginger tea ***missoshiro: miso soup 
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WINTER WONDERLAND MASTERLIST
DO YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN THE FUTURE RELEASMENT? FILL THIS FORM AND BECOME A BOOKWORM!
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the-last-dillpickle · 4 years ago
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Thanks for the tag @sapphosewrites​! I agree with you that these are always very neat to see what everyone’s up to!
For this, I’m choosing to share from a WIP that’s an AU where Garak comes along to Risa, as told by Worf’s POV. I’m always bouncing between a million and one stories so I can’t say when this’ll be done but I’m determined to finish it one day. 
They continued onto the beach, Worf eyeing the various couples wrapped in public displays of affection with distaste.
Then he did a double take on one particular pair.
It was Doctor Bashir, passionately kissing some beautiful young Risian woman. No doubt he too had succumbed to the planet’s atmosphere of debauchery. She twirled her fingers through his hair as Julian stroked a hand along her face.
But something didn’t make sense. There were too many limbs.
Worf stared, trying to understand where the extra arm was coming from but then the pair shifted and he saw it.
Garak. 
On Julian’s other side and wrapped around him from behind.
The dishonorable villain was feeling up the doctor boldly, letting his hands wander and linger. Surely, Bashir couldn’t be allowing this? The Cardassian had to be taking advantage of the doctor’s distraction to grope him.
But that theory was quickly disproved when Bashir broke his kiss and shuffled around so that he was facing Garak, pressing the Cardassian flat on his back and laying a hand on his chest as he began kissing him instead.
The woman seemed totally unbothered by this turn of events. She kissed along the back of Bashir’s neck and stroked along his side as her amour lavished his attentions on someone else.
“And you were worried about Julian,” Dax commented, brows raised.
Anyone with a WIP that wants to, feel free to share your own!
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satorisa · 3 years ago
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Falling: Chapter 3 - In Which the Boys Have the Best Sleepover Ever
Rating: T
Summary:  "I wanna forget all this burden in my past."
Alternate Reading: AO3
Because the best sleepovers involve watching Studio Ghibli movies, right?
With the May holidays coming up, Daisuke’s parents planned to go out of town to visit their college friends. Grandpa Daiki had left for Italy about a week earlier with a close friend to enjoy wood-fired pizzas, lemons the size of his face, and the beautiful, Sicilian breeze. And so, until Grandpa Daiki returned to Japan the Monday of the holiday week, it was unanimously decided that Daisuke would spend the weekend at the Saehara household.
“What’s the occasion?” Risa asked when she saw the duffel bag Daisuke had that Friday morning. “Running away from home?”
Daisuke nearly protested when Takeshi swooped in, wrapping his arm around Daisuke’s shoulder. “Nope! He’s sleeping over at my place for the weekend! Are ya—” Takeshi began to bounce his eyebrows. “—jealous?”
Risa laughed. “Jealous? Of not being invited to your ham fest? Puh-lease.”
Satoshi appeared on the other side of Daisuke and silently waved at Risa. She returned the gesture.
“Congrats on waking up early again, Hiwatari-kun. You’ve been on a roll lately.”
“Thank you.”
“So,” Risa asked with a grin, “what do you guys have planned for your super special sleepover?”
“I think we’re baking this evening,” Daisuke answered. “Then we’re marathoning Studio Ghibli films.”
“Absolute classics,” Takeshi interjected.
“Tomorrow, we’re taking Satoshi out to buy some clothes and…uh…spend the rest of the evening talking until we fall asleep.”
“For our brotherhood,” Takeshi interjected again.
“And then we’ll spend the rest of Sunday watching Studio Ghibli movies until we pass out.”
Risa blinked before she started laughing. “Actually, I take that back. I’m a little jealous I’m not invited.”
“You can’t sleep over, of course, but you’re free to join us!” Takeshi said, excitement dripping with each syllable.
She just smiled. “I’ll let you know if I can.”
Since Risa had lunch plans with Ritsuko that day, the boys decided to eat in Daisuke’s classroom. They needed to meet up before they headed home for the weekend to prepare themselves for Risa’s potential company.
“Boys,” Takeshi said as he sat down, “I shot my shot.”
“Congrats,” Daisuke said as he unwrapped his bread.
“Did you have to invite her over?” Satoshi grumbled, digging into the bento Takeshi packed for them that morning.
“Look, I get that you’ve got issues, but what’s the worst thing that could happen? Is she gonna try to get you alone to finagle information about Dark from you?”
Satoshi looked at Takeshi straight in the eye and knocked on the desk. Takeshi broke out in raucous laugher, and both Takeshi and Daisuke knocked on the desks they sat at in solidarity.
“I don’t think she’ll do that, though,” Daisuke reassured. “I think she was genuinely interested in what we’re actually doing.”
“I know,” Takeshi said with a smug smile. “She was hooked the moment you said we’re baking later.”
“Don’t tell me you tailored this weekend just for her,” Satoshi said.
“What little faith do you have in me?” Takeshi feigned offence. “I tailored this weekend just for you.”
Satoshi shrugged. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Takeshi shot him a quick glare before downing several large bites of his lunch. He chased it with water and, after a loud burp, he met both Daisuke’s and Satoshi’s gazes.
“Alrighty boys, let’s set some ground rules for this weekend if we so happen to find ourselves in Harada-imouto’s presence.” He raised a finger. “1) We do not joke about or discuss my crush on her around her. If she finds out, you are dead to me.” He raised another finger. “2) Satoshi is not to be left alone with her at all. For his safety. And, uh—” Takeshi put his hand down. “—that’s about it.”
“Um…I think I need to add one more rule,” Daisuke said.
“Aight. Add away.”
“3) Risa-chan cannot be left alone with me, either.”
Satoshi focused on his bento, picking at the eggs with his chopsticks. Takeshi leaned in, eyes glistening with curiosity.
“What secrets are you hiding from me, oh dear best friend?”
One of the underclassmen from the art club caught Satoshi on the way to the shoe lockers, so Takeshi went ahead while Satoshi talked to them. They quickly chatted about the en plein air social the club had planned during the holidays before going on their merry way with an enthusiastic farewell.
Those cute underclassmen of his were starting to grow on him.
After he switched his shoes out, he spotted Takeshi and Daisuke waiting by the entrance. He expected to leave with them to enjoy a fun evening with the boys when a familiar pink ribbon came into his field of vision.
“Hey, guys!” Risa greeted while Ritsuko, who trailed behind her, waved. “My parents said I could come over for some baked goods this evening! Mind if Ritsuko tags along?”
“The more, the merrier!” Takeshi said. “Welcome aboard the fun train, Fukuda!”
“I’m just here to steal your recipe for Valentine’s Day.”
He laughed, and the group was about to head out when Satoshi’s phone rang. He saw Inspector Saehara’s caller ID and picked up.
“Sorry to ruin yer plans and all, but somethin’ urgent just popped up that needs to be done ASAP.”
“Is it more urgent than baking?”
“I know you’re upset, Satoshi, but—”
“I’m telling Saehara-san that you called me in for work and ruined my youthful sleepover.”
“Satoshi, please don’t call—”
He hung up. The group looked at him in awe.
“Sorry, but something came up at the station. Have fun for me.”
Inspected Saehara locked the door to the office behind him. Satoshi glared at the older man, and he just guffawed.
“I’m really sorry, Satoshi.”
Fuming, he ignored Inspector Saehara’s apology and marched back home without him. When he arrived, Risa and Ritsuko were long gone. A half-eaten cake sat on the table, and Takeshi and Daisuke were playing a video game in the living room.
They looked away from the TV and, instead of greeting him, they started laughing at him for being a young professional. Satoshi’s eyebrows furrowed more as he ignored them, chucking his school bag at the sofa (narrowly missing Takeshi) before helping himself to some cake.
Plate in hand, Satoshi sat on the floor by Daisuke before having a bite. (Dark chocolate with ganache. Delectably moist, decadently rich and, most importantly, not too sweet.)
He watched them play while eating his cake, purposefully ignoring Inspector Saehara when he finally arrived with dinner. They all gathered in the living room, digging into the fried chicken as they began their movie marathon. They watched Princess Mononoke first since it was Inspector Saehara’s favorite film from the Studio Ghibli collection but, when the old man began to snore halfway through, Takeshi banished him to the master bedroom, and his muffled snores accompanied Joe Hisaishi’s ethereal score until the movie ended.
Daisuke ducked into the downstairs bathroom to get ready for bed in case he fell asleep while watching the movies, so Satoshi went upstairs to change and freshen up when he saw a text from Risa.
She sent him a picture from earlier; the girls stood to the left, guys on the right, as they framed the cake in the middle. The message underneath read: “had lots of fun earlier! hope we can do this again soon!”
Satoshi blinked, wondering what prompted Risa to text him. They only ever messaged each other to confirm plans with the group or to find each other in crowds: general housekeeping more than anything.
Satoshi: Did Fukuda steal the recipe?
Risa: yup! she’s got it stashed away on her phone! :)
He wondered what possessed him to message her, but the speed at which she replied with was astounding. His phone pinged again, and he saw another text from her.
Risa: how’s the movie marathon?
Satoshi: We just finished watching Princess Mononoke.
Risa: good choice! wish I could’ve stayed longer to watch with you guys :(
Satoshi: You’re still welcome to join us on Sunday if you’d like.
Risa: i’ll see if i can! thanks for the invite, hiwatari-kun!”
Satoshi sat at his desk, focused on his phone. And when Risa no longer responded, he left his phone on his desk to charge before heading downstairs. Daisuke was still taking a shower, but Takeshi was in the kitchen making hot cocoa.
When Takeshi saw Satoshi, he pulled him into a hug.
“Bro, thank you for inviting Risa over on Sunday.”
The boys breezed through more of the Studio Ghibli catalogue, getting through Castle in the Sky, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, until they began to fall asleep while watching Porco Rosso. Takeshi leaned on Satoshi’s left shoulder, snoring at a tolerable volume and occasionally mumbling something in gibberish. Daisuke leaned on Satoshi’s right shoulder, cheek smushed into Satoshi’s upper arm while he hung onto Satoshi’s appendage like a sloth.
And Satoshi, enamored by the Studio Ghibli magic that gave life to a story about a pilot-turned-pig in the Adriatic Sea, watched on. And only when the credits began, with its calming music, did Satoshi join his friends.
Satoshi woke up to hear something sizzling on the stove. He rubbed his eyes awake before sitting up on the sofa. The blanket that covered him rolled off his chest as the cool air from the AC hit him, and he saw Takeshi and Daisuke in the kitchen.
(Inspector Saehara was not in the kitchen, but Satoshi picked out his snores from the room in the lulls of the sound of breakfast.)
When he finally came to, he joined the duo. He silently greeted them while he began to make coffee, filling up the kettle for some hot water.
Satoshi stood separated from the bustle in the kitchen, watching the kettle while Takeshi and Daisuke made small talk. Only when the kettle clicked did Satoshi move as he began to grind the coffee beans. He made enough coffee for Inspector Saehara to have his daily two cups and poured some out for the boys before joining them at the table.
“Dude, Satoshi’s coffee is to die for.”
Daisuke laughed before taking a sip. His face lit up, surprised, before he took another sip. “Wow, this is great! Thanks, Satoshi!”
He just nodded. Silent.
Even though he hadn’t said a word all morning, the guys didn’t force him to join their conversation. They let him be, just like he wanted, as he relished in this moment.
After they said their thanks, they dug into the breakfast. And while Satoshi silently ate, listening to Takeshi and Daisuke talk about the most menial of things, Satoshi genuinely wished that they could do this again.
Commissioner Hiwatari never took Satoshi out to shop for clothes. He would come home with items that somehow always fit but were always more fashionable than comfortable or practical. (And, if Satoshi had to be honest, he hated everything Commissioner Hiwatari bought him.)
Satoshi thought Takeshi would take him to a Uniqlo or SHIPS, but the trio found themselves in front of the department store.
“…with what money are we buying my clothes?” Satoshi asked, adjusting the tote slung over his shoulder.
“Ma said to charge it as a business expense.”
“…how?”
Takeshi shrugged before rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, fellas, we’ve got one job today, so let’s stay focused. No distractions!”
“Says the one who always gets distracted by the food and kitchen appliances,” Daisuke joked.
Takeshi glared before they walked in, politely turning down the makeup samples they could bring back to their “girlfriends” as they made their way to the escalator. Daisuke and Takeshi pulled their phones out as they ascended, but Satoshi looked down at the sprawling floor in awe. Everything shone, neatly displayed or folded, and he was too enthralled by the sight that he didn’t feel the pang of regret that often accompanied him finally experiencing something he should’ve long experienced as a child.
When they made it to the floor that housed the men’s section, mannequins dressed in sleek suits greeted them. Satoshi recognized those brands as the high-end ones that made up most of Commissioner Hiwatari’s closet, and Satoshi marched on to find something less expensive. He passed by some popular streetwear brands, only known to him because of Takeshi and Daisuke’s mild interest in fashion, until he finally found more subdued pieces of clothing that catered to his tastes.
“Satoshi, uh, that brand’s—”
Takeshi’s warning came too late. Satoshi looked at the tag, and the price bounced in his head. It was too damn expensive for a casual sweater, so much so that seeing that many numbers together physically hurt.
“Takeshi, this was a terrible idea.”
“Bro, you literally aren’t even trying right now.”
“But—” Satoshi gestured to the clothes surrounding them. “—there’s too much to look through. And they’re probably all pricey.”
Takeshi sighed. “Just ask someone to help you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Just go up to one of the attendants and ask them to help you. I’m sure they can find something for you.”
Satoshi just blinked, looking at Takeshi like he had said something in Russian. Takeshi returned Satoshi’s confused expression, and Daisuke laughed when he finally caught on.
“Are you too nervous to ask them for help?” Daisuke asked.
Satoshi Hiwatari, literal kid detective, college graduate at the tender age of fourteen, terrified to ask for help at the department store?
Absolutely.
Takeshi smirked, and Satoshi sighed, leaving the thoroughly entertained duo before asking one of the attendants for help. She directed him to a brand he wasn’t familiar with, but Satoshi liked the style and, most importantly, enjoyed the price point.
And after Satoshi tried on what he picked out, narrowing down the pile of clothes he brought with him to the fitting room, they paid before heading downstairs so Takeshi could fawn over the food. Satoshi followed him, wondering what samples he could taste, while Daisuke went off to grab something for Riku when he visited her during the holidays.
After stopping Takeshi from buying an extravagant set of chocolates, Satoshi spotted a familiar pink ribbon tying back brown locks. Lo and behold, Harada Risa was in her natural habitat at the department store, admiring the cases full of desserts while she carried a basket of impeccable looking strawberries in her hand. He ducked behind the closest fruit stand.
“Takeshi!” he harshly whispered.
“Ye?”
“Harada is here!”
Satoshi motioned towards the preoccupied girl, and Takeshi’s face lit up. What a serendipitous occasion for them to meet at the department store! But a familiar mop of red popped into his field of vision and was in the peripheries of a certain girl who would most definitely stop him were she to see him.
Thus, by virtue of the bro code, Rule Number 3 of this sleepover took precedent. But it also gave Takeshi a fantastic opportunity.
“I’ll distract her,” Takeshi whispered. “Get Daisuke out of here.”
“Where do we meet up?”
“Men’s section. We should be safe there.”
Satoshi nodded.
“Harada-chan!”
She turned around and greeted Takeshi. Satoshi couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but she saw Daisuke briskly walk towards him. He ducked behind the stand next to Satoshi, and they silently watched Takeshi lead her away for them to escape.
May his shot go well.
“So, what’s the real reason why you can’t be left alone with Harada?” Satoshi asked as the two of them sat down in the men’s section.
“Is Riku being jealous of her sister not a good enough reason?”
“I’m sure it’s part of the reason, but I feel like that’s not the whole thing.”
“Is that your detective instinct?”
“No. You’re just a little too obvious sometimes,” Satoshi said with a smile.
Daisuke sighed while Satoshi directed his attention to the passersby. A frantic woman passed by, quickly talking to someone on the phone in English.
“It’s just…Risa-chan has been a lot more clingy lately to the point that Riku’s starting to get annoyed with how much time I spend with her. And I’m having a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with Dark.”
“Like residual feelings of some sort?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know what do with that.”
“Talk to her about it?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why? Because you’re dating her sister?”
“Yeah. That’s one of the reasons, but I also don’t want to put her on the spot for it, especially if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“Is that why you were a little too excited to hear about Takeshi’s feelings for her?”
“Yeah,” Daisuke sheepishly admitted. “It’s the easiest way to resolve it. A win-win situation for everyone involved.”
“That involves Harada returning his feelings.”
“There’s always a chance.”
“You’re holding onto a slim hope, then.”
Daisuke laughed. “Better to be optimistic, I always say.”
“Well, I’m sure there are other guys in our grade we could always…gently persuade to pursue Harada were she to turn down Takeshi’s feelings.”
His friend shook his head in disbelief that Satoshi even suggested such an idea while Satoshi laughed. If Takeshi couldn’t worm his way into Risa’s heart, no one else in their grade would be able to. Only a person with such outstanding confidence like Takeshi could handle Risa’s overwhelming personality.
Either that or…
That wasn’t a train of thought he was willing to entertain. Not now. And, hopefully, not ever.
Satoshi spotted Takeshi’s spiky hair in his peripheries as he rode up the escalator, shining with jubilee.
“Hello, men,” he greeted as the enthusiasm faded from his face. “What the hell have you two been talking about to make y’all look like death?”
“We’re bracing ourselves for the interrogation later by screening our answers,” Satoshi answered.
Takeshi glared at him.
“You did what?”
Mama Saehara’s voice boomed through the house. The boys just arrived, and they stood at the entrance, removing their shoes while trying to make as little noise as possible.
Satoshi had never heard her sound like that. Her voice always had a light and cheerful tone despite her powerful looks, yet she sounded exactly like he expected her to in that moment.
“It was an emergency!” Inspector Saehara retorted. “I know that he had plans an’ all, but—”
“But what? You think work is more important than what you made him miss?”
“Well—”
Mama Saehara screamed a flurry of French, and Inspector Saehara gasped before replying to whatever she just said in Japanese. Takeshi sighed as they bickered on.
“I’m sorry about this, y’all.”
“It’s fine,” Daisuke said. “My parents get like this sometimes, too. Even grandpa has his moments.”
Satoshi blinked. It sounded like Inspector Saehara and Mama Saehara were arguing over what happened yesterday, but he didn’t realize they would get so heated over something like that. Satoshi had completely gotten over being called to work when he woke up that morning, so he couldn’t empathize with them arguing about it.
“Is this normal?” Satoshi asked.
“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to hear them like this, but I guess they’ve probably been holdin’ back because of you.”
Mama Saehara let out another exasperated string of words in French. Inspector Saehara demanded she repeat it in Japanese, taunting her, and she did without any hesitation. The boys gasped.
“I thought they got along,” Satoshi said.
“They do,” Takeshi said. “I mean, how else could they have been married for this long?”
“But—”
“This is normal!” Takeshi assured. “Besides, what family doesn’t argue?”
Daisuke nodded. Satoshi, however, decided he had had enough of the petty argument and marched into the kitchen to try to diffuse the situation.
Inspector Saehara sat at the table with his phone leaning against his mug. He looked up from the screen and balked at the sight of Satoshi before shooting him an awkward smile.
“Hey, Satoshi,” Inspector Saehara greeted. “How was yer trip to the department store?”
“Good.”
He expected Inspector Saehara to reply or for Mama Saehara to say something to him. She just grumbled something in French.
Inspector Saehara gasped.
“Have you no shame in cussin’ me out in a different language in front of our son?”
It was Satoshi’s turn to gasp. If only to lighten the situation.
Inspector Saehara cracked a smile.
Chips and beer in hand, Inspector Saehara retreated to the master bedroom. And, arms full of snacks, the boys retreated to Takeshi and Satoshi’s room upstairs. Satoshi sat at his desk, attempting to tidy his mess, while Takeshi and Daisuke sat on Takeshi’s bed, sharing an opened bag of chips.
“So…” Takeshi began.
“So…” Satoshi echoed.
Takeshi glared at Satoshi, and he smirked back. Daisuke laughed at his friend’s antics before munching on a handful of chips, cutting through the tension in the room.
“Tell us why you like Risa-chan,” Daisuke started.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Takeshi asked. “She’s adorable.”
“Then why’d you only start liking her recently?” Satoshi quipped.
“Hey, if you wanna take the floor, then you spill.”
“Do you want to cry?”
Both Daisuke and Takeshi looked at Satoshi, mortified, but he just laughed. Perhaps it was in bad taste to joke about what had happened to him, but Satoshi didn’t have any deep secrets or life problems to spill besides it.
Takeshi pouted. “You’re disqualified from speaking from here on out.”
Satoshi gave him a thumbs up with a smile. Takeshi returned it before he began to rock back and forth like a metronome.
“Honestly, I don’t really know, man,” Takeshi admitted. “After Harada-ane moved away and Harada-imouto started to hang out with us a lot more, I jus’ started to pay more attention to her an’ all. Next thing ya know, I’m daydreamin’ about her in class.”
Daisuke nodded while Satoshi blinked. He didn’t mind talks of romance when casually mentioned or joked about, but he felt uncomfortable hearing Takeshi talk about it so sincerely. He opened the box of matcha Pocky and hoped no one noticed him snacking on something he would never willingly choose.
“And I can’t help it even though I think she’s got her heart set on another guy.”
Satoshi bit the stick of Pocky in half. His eyes bounced from Daisuke and Takeshi, noting Takeshi’s growing impatience and Daisuke’s obvious awkwardness.
Takeshi’s keenness never failed to surprise Satoshi.
“She probably likes you, Daisuke.”
“What? No…”
“Bro, have you seen how she acts around you? Look, man, I know you’re dense, but you can’t be that obtuse.”
Daisuke glanced over at Satoshi, eyes begging for help. But Satoshi zipped his lips, keeping to Takeshi’s words from earlier. And, honestly, he wanted no part in this conversation at all.
“Daisuke, please, be honest with me. I promise I’ll try my best not to take it personally.”
He sighed. “…I know. I’ve known for a while now, but I don’t know if she knows. And even if she does know, I don’t think she wants to acknowledge it.”
“Does she like you because you’re you or because you were Dark Mousy’s host or something like that?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure most of her feelings are coming from her residual feelings for Dark, but Riku also just moved away. I wouldn’t be surprised if she started getting attached to me, to us, to fill the void of her sister.”
Takeshi groaned before grabbing his pillow and digging his head into it. “Unrequited feelings suck, man.”
Daisuke nodded while Satoshi bobbed his head in reflex. He remembered the pang he felt when he realized how important Risa was to him despite knowing how she felt for Dark. His burgeoning feelings, no matter how fleeting, still haunted his mind. Somehow, someway, Risa always crawled into his life uninvited.
Unlike Takeshi, however, he couldn’t welcome any of those feelings he had for her.
Luckily, his friends didn’t notice his absent-minded expression as he stared at nothing in particular and precariously balanced the stick of Pocky in his mouth. When he came back to the conversation, Takeshi had a devilish smile on his face while he nudged a red-faced Daisuke with his elbow.
“Come on, you can tell us how far you’ve gone with Harada-ane!”
“Absolutely not!”
Satoshi woke up.
Daisuke and Takeshi were still asleep. And he was about to fall back asleep considering how late the trio had stayed up, but he saw slivers of light blue filtering through the blinds and the lethargic haze clouding his mind cleared up despite the sleep deprivation.
He sent Takeshi and Inspector Saehara a message saying he’d be out just in case they woke up while he was gone and, phone in hand, he left the house to grab breakfast for everyone. There was a coffeeshop by the police station he was partial to, and he didn’t mind taking the slight commute to get there.
Satoshi rarely found himself this alert so early in the morning, but he enjoyed the calm stillness of Azumano at dawn. If he began to consistently wake up at this time, he wouldn’t mind adding a morning walk to his daily routine.
He didn’t think the coffeeshop would be so busy on a Sunday morning, yet he saw a large group huddled around the register when he arrived. Satoshi noted how young they looked and wondered why a group of teens would be willingly awake this early on a Sunday until he saw Ritsuko intently looking at a tablet in her hands.
He went up to her. “Robotics competition?”
She turned towards him, initially shocked to see him there, but a smile quickly settled onto her face. “Yeah. It’s just an invitational, but we’re hoping to win something at least.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks!” she said. “How’s your sleepover going so far?”
“Fun.”
She smirked. “Did you actually fall asleep last night?”
“Yeah. And I woke up early.”
“Unfortunately?”
“Fortunately. I’m sort of starting to like mornings.”
She laughed. “Well, I wish you the best of luck on your transition to become an early bird.”
The barista called their order, and the group swarmed around the counter. Ritsuko stood up and slipped the tablet into her bag.
“Sorry to cut this short, but we’ve got to head out now. See you around?”
“Of course. Kick their asses.”
Ritsuko blinked, taken aback by Satoshi’s choice of words before letting out a hearty laugh. “Saehara-kun really has rubbed off on you.”
After Ritsuko left with her club, Satoshi ordered. He waited at a table by the counter, enjoying the ambiance and the light muzak as he skimmed through the news on his phone.
After they called his name, he ambled home with the food and drinks in hand, watching Azumano wake up with every step he took. As the sun continued to rise and the sorbet-colored sky turned its usual hue of blue, he saw stores open, joggers zoom by him, and the occasional group of elderly women briskly walk past him. Everything felt different from the lunchtime hustle, the evening rush, like a car engine humming to life instead of zooming down the highway.
He really could get used to this.
When he returned home, the house was still. He began to unpack the food from the bags when he heard heavy footsteps barrel downstairs. Satoshi froze in place, and the sight of Takeshi coming into the kitchen couldn’t shake off the fear.
“Bro, Harada-imouto’s coming over around lunchtime later!”
“Cool.”
“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“You, um, scared me. With the loud noises and all.”
“Aw shit, fam. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Takeshi then noticed the food that Satoshi brought. He began to open the containers in excitement until he found an order he knew belonged to him. His face lit up before opening his arms. A proud grin eclipsed his face.
“Come here, brotha!”
“Too early. Hard pass…brotha.”
The boys (and Inspector Saehara) sat at the dining table, stiff from anticipation for Risa’s arrival. Inspector Saehara learned about his son’s feelings for the Saehara household guest after asking why the hell his son was making that much racket so damn early in the morning and, fully supporting his son’s infatuations, helped the boys clean up and splurge on some food from that fancy place he knew the Harada family frequented.
His boy’s gotta make a good impression somehow.
So, when they heard the doorbell ring, exactly at noon, they looked at Takeshi, begging him to let her in. They held their breath, pitying the lovesick fool when they heard his usual, confident babbling turn clumsy as he stumbled over his words. But when they heard the door close and saw Risa walk in, wearing a t-shirt dress that definitely leaned towards a casual ensemble for a day with friends than an outfit to catch a boy’s attention, they cautiously glanced at Takeshi to see his perception on Risa’s uncharacteristic fashion choice.
The boy was too ecstatic at her company that he was blind to her obvious message about how she truly felt about this.
Was this a success? Or a failure? They couldn’t tell.
“So,” Risa began. “what’s the plan?”
Risa insisted on starting with Whisper of the Heart.
Satoshi expected it have that whimsical fantasy that permeated the films he watched the evening before, but it didn’t. It had the whimsy, for sure, but he couldn’t connect with the realism of the film. So, while Risa, Daisuke, and Takeshi waxed poetic about the youthful vigor in the couple’s ending, the sentiment was lost on him, and he dismissed himself on the kitchen to “grab a snack” while the trio argued over what to watch next.
He stood next to Inspector Saehara who sat at the table that allowed for prime viewing of his son’s adolescence. He had a laptop in front of him, with Mama Saehara on the screen, and Satoshi waved to her. She didn’t notice since she seemed preoccupied with something else on her end.
“I didn’t realize you were in a call with her.”
“She’s just here to get real-time updates on Takeshi crushing over the Harada kid. We’re not actually having a conversation.”
“Because of what happened yesterday?”
“What do you mean what—” Inspector Saehara didn’t finish his sentence. He just began to laugh. “Oh, that? That’s nothing.”
“Nothing? But…”
“It happens all the time. Me an’ Ma are always arguin’ over somethin’. It happens with those yer close to, yanno?”
No, Satoshi didn’t know. The bemused expression on his face said everything, and Inspector Saehara guffawed.
“It’ll happen one day whether you’ll like it or not. Just don’t hate us when it happens, alright?”
Takeshi came in. “Bro, we’re starting My Neighbor Totoro! Hurry up!”
Satoshi nodded, following Takeshi back to the living room without any resolution to his conversation with Inspector Saehara.
He sat down in the recliner, distant from the trio on the couch. Risa was wedged between Daisuke and Takeshi, dangerously close to crossing the threshold of Daisuke’s personal space. The former was dangerously close to rolling off the couch over the armrest; the latter was dangerously close to crossing the threshold of Risa’s personal space. As an outsider looking in, the teens spelled out their emotions so plainly that it only hurt to watch.
Satoshi envied them. Of that innocence that allowed them to feel the emotions that come and go. To allow themselves to get caught up in a tempest of their feelings without worrying about how far-reaching the consequences would be.
The chipper tune of the movie’s opening brough his attention back to the TV. And while those on the couch sung along, he just nodded to the beat, unable to fight the smile threatening his face.
After the movie ended, to everyone’s dismay, Satoshi ducked into the restroom. When he returned to the living room, only Risa was there, lying down on the couch as she busied herself with her phone.
Clearly, this situation was in violation of Rule Number 2 of the sleepover code, but it seemed like there was nothing he could do to amend the broken rule.
“Where’d they go?” Satoshi cautiously asked.
“Daisuke’s parents called him during the movie, so he’s returning their call right now. And Saehara-san and Takeshi-kun stepped out to grab dinner.”
“So, your parents are letting you stay until then?”
“Yup! So we can squeeze in two more movies before I have to head back!”
“Which movies?”
“The Wind Rises and Howl’s Moving Castle.”
“Do they have romance in them?”
Risa winked. “Of course!”
Satoshi rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand your obsession with romance.”
“You don’t have to, but just know that you’re missing out on a fantastic genre.”
Satoshi shook his head, and she just giggled. “Maybe you’ll change your mind when you actually fall in love with someone.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“I wouldn’t end your sentence so quickly,” she sang.
“Perhaps, but I still think you’re slightly delusional.”
“But who isn’t slightly delusional when it comes to love?”
Satoshi wondered what possessed her to say that. And, when she met his gaze, he didn’t expect to see that earnest expression on her face. The Risa in front of him was no longer the adolescent girl who lived up the stereotype. This was the Risa trying to expand her horizons, to learn what lay beyond her perception of the world: the Risa that terrified him.
“Do you think I’ve lost it?” she asked in a whisper. “Being hung up over a ghost of a feeling? Of a person I can’t clearly recall in my memories? At the fact that you can’t fill the hole they left not matter how much you tell me about them?”
Satoshi hated this. He hated how easily Risa managed to skirt the edge of his comfort zone. She was precise enough to get her point across yet vague enough that it felt rude for him to strike that boundary. Not without him risking sounding like an asshole.
Not without him allowing her to cross a boundary he wasn’t ready for anyone, let alone her, to cross.
He began to formulate the words in his mind to say that he couldn’t answer that question, that he felt uncomfortable even being in the position of receiving her inquiries. Satoshi had to brace himself for her disappointment at him pulling away, but Daisuke came down before Satoshi followed through with the decision his mind was heading to.
“So, what’re we watching next?” Daisuke asked.
Satoshi nearly wept from the timing.
Sunday passed without any more drama. After they finished the movies Risa wanted to watch, she left without much fanfare, and the boys went through as much of the Studio Ghibli filmography as they could before they passed out.
Satoshi, however, woke up that Monday morning in a cold sweat with a splitting headache. So, while Takeshi and Daisuke left to pick up Grandpa Daiki from the train station, Satoshi floated in and out of consciousness while a familiar, winged Phantom Thief haunted his dreams.
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lifewouldbebetteronmars · 4 years ago
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Castle Towers Fall
Chapter 3
December 1885; Persia
Something felt off to Sona as she held her new daughter in her arms, studying the newborn’s tiny features. Her daughter looked a lot like Alastair did, with small hands and feet, a snubbed button nose that she would eventually grow out of. She had yet to open her eyes, content to just lay there in her mother’s arms, as calm as could be.
Sona’s thumb caressed the tumble of red curls plastered to the baby’s head, so similar to her own hair. She couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong, the baby was healthy and perfect, her feelings toward her no different than they had been when Alastair had been born. This little girl was just as darling as she had hoped she’d be, a perfect match for the now-mischievous Alastair, who still didn’t know his world would be turning upside down.
There was a small knock at the door and Sona could hear Alastair babbling on through it. “Come in!” she called, excited for her husband and son to meet her new daughter. But she was shocked to see Risa opening the door, Alastair holding her hand in an attempt to move closer to his mother.
“Mama, Mama, hi!” Alastair waved with a smile, pulling poor old Risa, who was struggling to close the door at Alastair’s insistence to be closer to Sona.
“Hello Alastair, joon, I missed you very much.” she said, beckoning Alastair closer. “Do you want to meet your sister?” Alastair gave her a confused look, scrunching up his features.
Risa lead Alastair closer to the bed, picking him up and setting him on the bed next to Sona’s legs, giving him a better look at the small bundle in her arms. The boy’s face still looked confused as he reached a hand out to touch the baby’s face, but Sona stopped his hand before he could. “You have to be gentle, joon, she’s very fragile. Softly, like this.” Sona demonstrated by running her finger along her daughter’s round cheek. Alastair attempted to copy the movement but was shocked when his sister reacted, making him jump back a little bit. The baby had started to squirm, opening her eyes to reveal dark eyes just like Alastair’s.
Alastair moved closer to his smaller sister, bringing his finger to her palm, letting out a giggle when she gripped it in her tiny fist. Sona couldn’t help but be reminded of when Alastair had done the same thing to Elias after he had been born. She shared a fond look with Risa, who was watching the three of them with a soft smile on her face.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and closed, startling both Alastair and the baby, the latter starting to fuss in Sona’s arms. She turned to see her husband slightly stumbling into the room and her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t drunk but she could smell the alcohol, making it obvious that he had been drinking. She instinctively held her daughter closer to her chest, soothing her with tiny bounces and quiet shushes.
“Where have you been, Elias?” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her, still holding their daughter protectively to her body.
Elias rolled his eyes but nonetheless stepped closer to the bed. “Celebrating. Now, is it a boy or a girl?” he asked and Sona could feel herself pale. She knew he had been hoping for another boy, so Alastair would have brother just like he had growing up.
“A girl, she’s perfectly healthy.”
Elias looked shocked, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility of a daughter. He nearly tripped over his own feet and ended up sitting next to Alastair on the bed, catching a glimpse of his new daughter. “Cordelia. That’s her name. Daughter of the sea.” he exclaimed, moving his hand closer to caress the baby’s curls. They looked almost picturesque this way; Sona holding the newborn as Elias admired her, Alastair sitting on Elias’s lap with toothy grin on his face.
The terrible feeling had returned to Sona in that moment as she watched Alastair and Elias interact with each other, Alastair starting to babble on and on as he tried to get Elias to share his attention, while Elias was almost too busy watching the newly named Cordelia. It felt like her stomach was a pit, watching Alastair tug on Elias’s waistcoat wanting his father to listen.
She nearly gasped when she saw the expression on Alastair’s face. It was one she had known all too well. The furrowed brows, scrunched nose, and small frown. Theodor always made that face when he was concentrating on something important, especially when he was determined. The faces were so similar it was scary.
Sona had never seen Alastair look so little like Elias.
Translations:
Joon - Dear
Tags:
@lovefairchild
@king1pin
@alastaircarstairsourboi
@styxdrawings
@imchaotic-dontmindme
@this-person-is-a-hoe
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spnsmile · 5 years ago
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#SPNStayAtHome @helianthus21 @pray4jensen @bend-me-shape-me
3. Thief (Endverse! Violence!) Rated: E
[Where Castiel is stolen while Dean was dead and things go to hell]
**** tagged graphic violence******* @verobatto-angelxhunter go away xD
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It’s Apocalypse like no other with Croatoan and Lucifer walking the earth.
Dean Winchester lived and died many times,  he just didn’t think he’d come back again for a final chapter after Lucifer in Sam’s meat suit, killed him.
Yet here he is, like the many times Death rejected him on his doorstep,  breathing and alive. He can remember everything. Finding Sam in the garden knowing it’s Lucifer? He and Lucifer standing off with that smug look on the devil's face.
About how he pleaded in the last seconds of his breath that the son of a bitch let go of his brother… but begging the devil, he knew the answer.
Lucifer played him well he ended up with several broken bones with feet on his neck. He still could feel the throbbing pain on his jaw, could still hear the crack of his spine when Lucifer mercilessly snaps his head. He knew it was the End and frankly,  he didn’t care enough. He always knew Sam will kill him in the end.
Should’ve listened to John bout killin Sam from the beginning.  
He wished he could but knew himself well enough he’d still come begging to save his brother. And it was with dawning regret that he finds himself back on his feet, in the same garden where Lucifer took his life. Still alive and kicking.
What conspiracy is happening among the gods that he, Dean Winchester should be granted eternal life? Is this what Cas meant by cursed resurrections? Though, in retrospect, Castiel was pretty drunk at the time having just broken an ankle. 
So he is alive, Dean knows he can only move on, he always does. Fall on his knees, stand up the next second. There's no time for him to think, no time to lose. If Lucifer resurrected him, it means the bastard has another plan. He is not going to wait to find out.
Besides, there was someone he had to make sure was also alive. Clutching his hands, he paves the way back to his campsite. If anyone attacked him now and then, they would be mistaken to think he was not armed in any way.
And Dean Winchester was just itching to kill.
He trespasses grudgingly upon Chuck's shack after an hour of walking, his armored jeep gone from where he last left it.
He comes to the campsite with the man he is looking for not around. Growling when he finds the ex-prophet of the lord half asleep on his desk with bundles of dirty papers on his desks, Dean bangs his fist on the door board. It snaps Chuck awake and when he sees who it was, he nearly fell on his chair.
Dean watches him stumble up. He came back to the campsite just before dusk. Everything was silent, there, everything remains still and Castiel's fancy room empty. Worry filled him first, something he hadn't felt for a long time. But he didn't let it show. Instead, he crosses his arms. He wants to know what happened, wants to know who survived and who perished with a growing fear that he might be too late.  
If he was too late, he can only blame himself...
Chuck stares at him, a little pale.
“Dean!  Oh good!  You’re- you're alive!"
"I know that," he growls, eyes darting to the windows and the door. He knows everyone can hear it. He can almost feel people stir in the camp upon Chuck's outburst. 
"What happened to you?"
"Looks like Lucifer doesn't wanna give me a pass on an easy death. Snapped my neck, then returned me to life."
"What..." Chuck goes paler, "...that's... I dunno... are you okay?"
Dean arches an eyebrow. "I just came back to life. How do you think I'm feeling?" he raises both hands, indicating Chuck to hand him the water jug on the side table which the ex-prophet quickly hands over.
"I dunno... I've never been killed, really. You've been gone a month, Dean."
Dean's eyes bulge.
“A month!?” Dean exclaims coughing hard, sputtering water all over his front until Chuck sensibly took the water back. Jaw dripping, Dean glares around feeling dry and sore. Heat runs under his skin, coiling at the back of his neck, making his stomach turn. He glares at the shorter man for there's no other outlet.
“Where’s the idiot junkie?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, finally pinpointing the itch that’s been nagging at the back of his head. He was missing someone usually in the front lines. Someone who should’ve been here five minutes ago… unless… Dean bows his head, all energy draining from his body.
“Castiel? No… He’s not here anymore.”
Dean slowly fixes him a dark look. Whatever expression he was making caused Chuck to step backward, shaking his head.
“No, no he’s alive. I mean- he returned after the mission with Hector and Risa but she didn’t make it. Hector too… their wounds… Castiel brought their bodies back. Said he couldn't find you... we're not sure...but he healed after 3 days of isolation. We all thought you were dead everyone thought you were dead, Dean..."
"So where is he?" it's all in the past now, the most important question had to be answered now. Dean knits his brows. Did Cas run away?
Chuck swallows hard. "Well, you know how this camp wouldn't be as strongly protected without you and your captains? I mean, I can barely handle a gun, and Cas is just... too devastated, Dean. He... we thought he gonna die in those three days. He had a fever, even delusions of seeing his brothers, you know? The final stage was the third day, we thought he was gonna die. Then he said something about an angel healing him and he's just up and about again."
Dean takes a threatening step forward, eyes glinting darkly. "Cas. Now, Chuck." 
Chuck shrinks back, suddenly realizing he was about to create another apocalypse by doing so. "We couldn't fight okay? So after two weeks, other militant groups began attacking us, we barely survived. Until Boris and his group came and offered this place protection..."
"Boris?" Dean's nose flairs, remembering the war-machine leader of the East faction. A tall man with sharp dark eyes that just dances of evil. Dean is disgusted with the guy. For all everyone knows, the guy turns anyone and every one his group captures into his slaves. A living human devil. But then-- "What does he want with Cas?"
 "Well, Cas was the acting leader at the time. He and Boris made a deal in his quarters and uh...." Chuck bows his head. "He went with Boris."
“What?” Dean's voice is low, barely audible. “Why would he go with Boris?”
Chuck hesitates. “Boris heard you died. He wanted to take over the camp. Castiel dealt with them and they had a private talk. There was a negotiation, then Castiel said he’d work with Boris… something about getting easy drugs on his side. Then he just left us.”
Dean stands taller, then without a word, left the shack.
"Dean! Where are you going?" Chuck calls behind him
"To get Cas, what else?" he storms off the camp, leaving those who have gone to surround the little hut gaping after him. But he didn't ask for anyone to come with him this time. No, if he was going to get Castiel, he was going to get him back on his own. He will burn the place down if he had to and he won't care. He sees his jeep and checks the content before hopping on. Everyone just knows what he was about to do and for their own sake, did not get on his way. If there was one thing generally known about him, it's the fact that you never wanted Dean Winchester on your back.
Suffice to say, Dean means to make true of that. He knows what to expect when he gets there. Knows Cas... fuck... Cas... gripping the rubber wheels, Dean revs the car and went on his solo mission.
Everyone knows the man will be leaving blood trails behind him when he is done.
No one steals from Dean Winchester.
It did not take long for him to get the audience he wanted. Boris' group camps in the military barracks on the Eastside. A pretty good hunting ground and location for its formidable walls. He drives in, uncaring of the blaring sound his vehicle is making. He maneuvers his jeep at the center of all tall buildings and leaves the headlights on before jumping down. He makes sure he is visible, can be seen through the gaping windows. For a second there's only silence. That was only for a moment.
When they realized it's Dean Winchester's shadow peace is triggered and like ants, a swarm of feet and sounds of clicking the metal gun fills the air. Dozens of men surround Dean at once, a beacon is lit- Dean Winchester glares around with only one thing in mind.
Kill Boris.
It wasn't even negotiable.
"WHERE'S YOUR CAPTAIN!"
Like he knows he was summoned, Boris comes trudging in from the corner wearing nothing but his pants. Dean's eyes bore on him darkly.
"W-Winchester?" the man says in disbelief, and yes, he fucking knows his fate even when his face remains expressionless. The way his eyes take in Dean Winchester is guarded and wary. "B-but you're dead. Someone saw you died by Lucifer's hand!"
"Sure did," Dean said. "Devil tried to kill me. But c'mon. Do you really think it would kick? I'm a Winchester, you dead man. You better return what you stole from me, you thief."
Boris startles a moment. He wets his lips, eyes widening a little.
"Listen, Winchester-- you don't-- he came to me on his own! Threw himself to me, that whore-- he's addicted and you know that! He can't live without me! You--" his voice falters because Dean slowly inches on him, all features of humanity's cover gone. Leaving behind a cold front of a man ready for a mass kill.
"Where is he?"
The men around him carrying loaded firearm took steps back when he glares from left to right. And Dean knows he no longer looks at them the same way. He knows when his primal instinct kicks in. Can control it after years of experience fighting off demons and other foul creatures. All it takes is for him to really show intent and he did. 
There was a gasp. Dean's eyes dilate when he sees him finally. Castiel comes out from the building where Boris had come from wearing a ragged shirt torn in many places. Dean stiffens. Castiel is looking at him open-mouthed, uncaring of his own disheveled form, bruised and limping body. All Castiel can do is look at Dean, blue eyes reflecting the man's appearance wide and full of disbelief.
Dean does the same, except when he looks around him, all he sees is red. Then Boris, the stupid idiot, glances at Castiel and grabs him by the neck, shouting to whoever was listening to why they let Castiel out. Someone said Cas killed his guards.
"That's impossible, I drugged him to stop fighting!" Boris hisses.
That triggered Dean senseless. He takes out his gun. 
Boris throws him a look, before dragging Castiel behind him by the collar, shielding him from Dean. No bargaining for the man too. The look in his face, his hunger, his thirst- Dean can see everything. This man was not going to give Cas willingly.
This man has decided Cas is his. 
Well, now.  You thief.
That kind of gesture against something Dean owned. Unforgivable. Dean hasn't felt that desire to kill another human for a long time The desire to tear him from limb to limb. Skin him alive and listen to him scream while he burns him alive.
"KILL HIM!" Boris bellows, shoving Castiel inside the building as his men step forward pointing their gun with a wild look in their faces. But Dean only smiles hauntingly.
"Lucifer can't even kill me and he tried, man," Dean says.
He only needs that window of fear flickering in their eyes- before he murdered them all. Not all. The rest know it's not worth losing their lives over and so, l ook flight from the mass murderer. But Dean makes a different chase.
Boris was still dragging Castiel when Dean sharply throws the angel blade hidden on his vest straight to the man's skull. He is dead before he touches the floor. Dean still feeling full and unsated,  goes to chop Boris' hands-off before gutting him with his knives. He doesn't stop till the blood is all over him. He doesn't want to.
When finally he is done, he pulls up, throwing the corpse on the ground, Dean surveys him with his darkest look, green eyes glinting in the dark.
“Whoever steals my man shall be put to death and the defender is not guilty of bloodshed. Read Exodus, fucktard."
Blood runs on the floor.
He takes deep breathes before looking around. He finds Castiel leaning on the wall, heaving deep breathes, his blue eyes glassy but wide.
Dean looks away. Takes a moment to compose himself so Castiel didn't have to see that face. Cas always told him how he hates it when Dean dons his 'fearless captain' face. Always teases him about it when they are on the bed. He always uses it to call him when Dean is particularly being unreasonable. 
He calms himself. Cas is under the influence. Dean is also bloody. He doesn't know how much torture and abuse Cas had to deal with for a month. Don't know the damage and didn't want to scare him. Didn't want to expect warm hands at once when Cas has been out of his head for two weeks.
Dean didn't look at him. Didn't wanna show him how scared he is too. But he begins by loosening his grip on the bloody knives, takes a deep breath, but it still took a while to release all the tension in his body.
Too stiff to turn, he lets himself stand straight and close his eyes with the deepest sigh. He can smell blood on his skin mixed with his sweat. He knows he has injuries too but didn't care. The pain burned his body. He swallows. 
So he is really alive. 
Just... Cas... Dean grits his teeth. No. It's not enough. He gotta kill them. Now. He makes to run after the shadows he can still see fleeing deep inside the other buildings. Oh, he needs to end them too.
Except something heavy threw itself behind him. Dean nearly turns around to murder whoever was attacking him from behind-- except the body remained limp with haggard breathing.
"D-Dean?"
Dean freezes. He turns. He catches the unsteady body in his arms too light and thin. Fuck. He meets Castiel's glassy eyes. Blue eyes recognizing him despite the haze of all the drugs in the system. The idiot who can barely stand on his feet. The idiot who fought back against his captors when he hears of a Winchester causing distress outside.
"Hey, Cas."
Blue eyes swim in tears and it's beyond recognition when Castiel's mouth just buries on his lips. Dean returns the kiss sharply, his calloused hands running and digging at that loose threads of Castiel's makeshift shirt. They just kissed like it's the last thing they will do. Even when Castiel was sinking on his feet, they don't let go. Dean gathers him on his arms and lets his lips savage the swollen red lips until it forgets everything it has gone through. Dean knows it will be hard for Cas, but he makes sure he clasps the man closer, letting him know he is really there.
They kissed soundly, kissed passionately tasting wretched blood on each other's lips but Dean didn't stop at the prospect of pain. They have to deal with the pain later. They have to deal with a lot of pain after. 
Dean sweeps Castiel on his arms while the man flings his thin arms around his neck, burying his nose on Dean's neck and sobbing his heart out. 
Dean calms. He fucking calms when he secured Castiel in his arms, and fuck anyone who will make him let go.
He carries Castiel to the passenger side of the jeep, now wrapped in Dean's dirty jacket, but Cas looks warm and calm. He is asleep and Dean curses the drugs. His Cas always knows the dosage to be just between what he can manage.
Dean tucks him in carefully before looking back at the burning building. He doesn't regret that. Doesn't regret coming back to life if it means saving Cas. 
Leaving the fire behind him with only twilight as his witness, he drove Castiel back in the camp feeling more like himself than the past five years. Something about him snapped that night and it's not his sanity. Whoever was still sane until now, he'd like to meet them, really. But the hole left by his brother came to a sudden conclusion when Lucifer killed him. Now he's back-- something changed.
He gasps when he feels cold hand cover his own on the gearshift. He looks down and sees Castiel's hands curling on his, entwining their hands. Dean looks up at Castiel and sees the angel staring at him with such unblinking fixation. Dean lets him. He pulls both their hands and tugs it up to his lips. He sees color rise from Castiel's cheeks, his gleaming blue eyes finding that spirit to smile, crinkling on the corners when Dean lets his mouth linger on the bruised skin
And he thinks they will be okay again. Not soon. But they will be. 
He drives the car to speed limit wanting to have Castiel look over at once. They never let go, their hands remain intertwined. Castiel would tighten his grip from time to time, only to get Dean looking at him. Dean thinks it's something about their eyes connecting. Maybe Castiel also just wants him to look. He does. Every time. Doesn't care if the jeep crashes, Castiel wants him to look. He does every turn.
And when he brings Dean to Castiel's original quarters with Chuck and the others helping out with medication and clean water on the old bathtub, Dean still didn't let go.
Castiel doesn't show any sign of wanting to let go either even when his eyes were drooping down.
He doesn't speak. He just stares at Dean. Quiet, contemplative, letting it sink in. Dean let's him. What Dean is most thankful for is how Cas's eyes are not dead but just... Cas. Not full of life but it wasn't dull too. 
It's just Cas with the sleeping thunderbolt behind his eyes.
They don't let go, Cas made it clear when he tugs Dean down the bathtub that he didn't want to release his hand. Dean have no objection to that. Chuck and the others were just glad to have Cas back.
So Dean sits at the bottom of the hot bathtub, feeling all the soreness of his body sting like fire. But he endures with Castiel lying on top of him, fast asleep and uncaring of his naked form on top of Dean's whose hands endless caress Castiel's curves soothingly. Castiel rests with his nose on the crook of Dean's neck, other hand wrapped around Dean's neck, bruised and all.
Their hands are still entwined.
There's no future where Dean thinks he will let go. 
He kisses Cas's forehead earning him a little snuggle, so he pulls Castiel's body closer. There's still time before dawn, he thinks. There's still time for him to do whatever it is that must be done. There's still time for him to close his eyes and enjoy the warm body of someone so important. He may not know what lies ahead after the twisted turn of events in this broken world, but he knows one thing, he's not letting go of Castiel or put him in any harm.
Never again.Never again.
AO3 @verobatto-angelxhunter @skeletonsinzeeclost  @epple-benene​
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sodomygf · 4 years ago
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got tagged by @degenerate-perturbation to talk about Women and i was like man. i never remember shit off the top of my head. then i wrote down some women on a sticky note and managed to sort it all out. not really a list of my top ten favorites as much as a list of Girls I Enjoy. Women I Appreciate.
1. Sera - Dragon Age. sera my beloved. she’s my absolute favorite dragon age character and the fact that a fringe group of weirdos are so insistent upon hating her only makes me love her more. she’s adorable and i think about her constantly. singlehandedly makes inquisition my favorite game. i’m down that bad.
2. Meg - Hades. HOT. i liked meg from the moment i saw her and i will fully admit that a huge part of it is me finding her attractive. i also just really like her and zagreus’s dynamic. i like these two exes feeling out their relationship after one comes to grow into himself as a person.
3. Sumi & Chizuru - Rent-a-Girlfriend. since these two are from the same trashy anime i figured i’d just slap them down here together. on a personal level, i really like sumi because her design and personality are soooo cute. and she’s super sweet. on a meta level i like chizuru because she really is the only option for that simp boy we’re all meant to project on. she’s literally the perfect girl. i adore her.
4. Risa Koizumi - Lovely Complex. mostly on here because lovely complex is my comfort show. risa is peak dumbass representation and i like her so much. i think about her and otani all the time. also i just like that lovely complex is an anime that frames risa as more of a pursuer than a passive figure in her love story. it’s nice.
5. Haru - Beastars. this rabbit FUCKS and there’s nothing you can do about it. i think haru being like, canonically promiscuous and into that because of the power it gives her as a #short queen made me experience some sort of Gender. and also just surprised me because i figured it would be a bev marsh situation (another Woman i like who did not happen to make the list) but it wasn’t! what a legend. i have a whole playlist about her, actually.
6. Sabran & Ead - Priory of the Orange Tree. love this book. these lesbians made me so insane. the tenderness of That One Scene that lives in my head rent free... man.
7. Kazusa - O Maidens in Your Savage Season. all the girls in the series are good but i personally projected onto kazusa. i also projected on hongo, but in a sort of negative way. when women have self image issues my brain is like wow.... relateable.
8. Eleanor Shellstrop - The Good Place. i’ve been meaning to rewatch the good place forever because i just really love the whole show. eleanor is one of those characters who really charms me with humor and her growth as a person makes me kind of emotional. and since i’m talking about her i guess it’s pertinent to say. i really really love chidi, so she probably would’ve gotten the spot due to chidi proximity regardless.
9. Maru - Stardew Valley. this science girl is so underrated. we’ve been married for 2 years and have 2 children on my main save, and i thank yoba for this every day. she’s so sweet and smart and charming.
10. Entrapta - She Ra. i like women who are smarter than me. entrapta is my favorite character in the whole show because of that and her questionable morals. i love a queen who will do anything in the pursuit of knowledge.
11. Violet - Violet Evergarden. bonus because i haven’t really stopped thinking about this sad sad girl since i started watching the show with ed. we’re not at the end yet but honestly it’s got so much in it that i like and violet is part of that. her slowly growing to recognize and understand her own feelings (and suffering) moved me, a curmudgeonly little guy. also i think she is an allegory for jesus christ.
honorable mention.
Daisy Tonner - The Magnus Archives. everyone has to have their fucking hot takes on the cops from the magnus archives and it’s like can you people shut up. saw a long ass post about if it’s moral to write daisy as butch or femme and as a certified black person who does not like cops i wish you people would stop being so performatively woke about this podcast and i hope the fact that it’s officially ended will help you all heal from terminally online disease. also i always pictured her being really hot. i love a morally objectionable fake woman.
talk about women or Else. (there is no else. just if you want to rant about girls i guess) @weredilf, @hyperactiveadhd, @co27, @tazwikia, kathryn if you’re reading this it won’t let me tag you’re blog but you’re also included. begone.
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