#eh shephard

[squideo]

The Coolest Animated Characters of All Time: Icons That Stole Our Hearts

Animation offers a vast variety of options for character design, each created to attract a particular demographic. Not every character becomes an icon, however, which is why Squideo is breaking down the animation character designs of ten of the coolest animated characters of all time.

01. Mickey Mouse

The icon of the Walt Disney Company, Mickey Mouse is arguably the most recognisable character in the world. Created by Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks in 1928, Mickey Mouse is one of the oldest entries on this list (but not the record holder) and helped make Disney the company it is today. As is often the case for successful creations, there is some dispute how Mickey was created; but we’re glad to have him.

Mickey Mouse set the style for all future Disney animation designs. The rounded character, use of bold colours and a distinctive colour palette for each character; it all started with Mickey. Disney has its own unique animation style, crafted over its 100 year lifespan. The animation style has changed over the years with the incorporation of new technology, especially 3D computer animation, but remains distinguishable from other animation companies.

02. Winnie-the-Pooh

First featured on screen in 1966, the character of Winnie-the-Pooh was created in 1925 by British author A. A. Milne and illustrated by E. H. Shepard. The rights are held by Disney, yet other adaptations have been made. Perhaps the antithesis to the Disney version is the Soviet Union’s version of the famous bear, released in 1969 and followed by two additional films, which removes Christopher Robin but adds a narrator.

With the exception of the 1925 and 1969 versions of Winnie-the-Pooh, the character design remained consistent in the Disney productions which helped this Winnie-the-Pooh become the most identifiable version of the character. In that classic Disney style, Winnie-the-Pooh is soft and cuddly, and easily spotted with his amber and red colour palette.

03. The Simpsons

Sticking with yellow-hued characters, it’s time to look at one of Earth’s most popular families. First appearing in 1987 as a short in The Tracey Ullman Show, The Simpsons went on to get their own franchise in 1989 that is running to this day. It’s the longest-running American sitcom and animated series with 34 seasons and 750 episodes (as of August 2023).

Beyond the prominence of the colour yellow, The Simpsons are recognisable for their geometric appearance. Bart, Lisa and Maggie’s spiky hair, Homer’s chevron hairline and Marge’s rectangular dress. The design is easy to reproduce and remains recognisable even if the style changes. The Simpsons have hosted many guest artists for the couch gag, from Guillermo del Torro to Sylvain Chomet, yet no one would mistake what they were watching for any other animated show.

04. Bibendum

Bibendum, known as the Michelin Tyre Man in the English-speaking world, is the oldest entry on the list. First created for this French company in 1894, this character has become an icon the world over and remains one of the oldest trademarks still in use. Its popularity has been referenced in books, film, television and songs. The character even starred in a 2009 animated short film, Logorama.

The character has changed over the years to reflect the times, but every version remains identifiable as the Michelin Tyre Man. Despite tyres turning black in the 1910s, the character has retained the whiteness of the earliest tyres in production. After 120 years, it would be hard to change the essential makeup of this character without destroying the Michelin brand.

05. Mulan

The eighth addition to the Disney Princess line-up, and the first who was not a real princess, Mulan hit the screens in 1998. This animated character reinvented the formula of a Disney Princess film, by making Mulan into a hero who saves herself, her family and her country. The romance is relegated to a subplot, and the film doesn’t end with a wedding.

Despite Mulan only having two feature films to her name (1998, 2004), the character has appeared in multiple Disney shows and videos games, most famously appearing in 2016 Wreck It Ralph with the other Disney Princesses. Her tenure as a Disney Princess hasn’t gone without controversy, however. A redesign in 2013 prompted a public backlash as the character’s skin was lightened, causing a swift reversal by Disney.

06. Scooby-Doo

These mystery solvers have been on television since 1969, branching out into films (animated and live-action), video games and comics. The core gang have stayed in place with the titular Scooby-Doo joined by his friends Shaggy, Velma, Daphne and Fred. Some additions have been made to the original Hanna Barbera line-up, such as the divisive Scrappy-Doo.

Like the other oldies on the list, the Scooby-Doo characters have seen significant redesign over the years. From making them children in A Pup Named Scooby-Doo (1988) to giving the human characters tiny eyes in Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated (2010), but the biggest change came with Velma (2023) which sought to diversify the originally all-white cast.

07. Totoro

Despite being the subject of only one feature-length film, the character Totoro from My Neighbour Totoro (1988) has become a cultural icon in Japan. Brought back in ani-manga books, a novel and – most recently – a stage adaptation, Totoro has fame outside of Japan too. In fact, its popularity led to a cameo of Totoro in Toy Story 3 (2010).

Created by Studio Ghibli, Totoro has been adapted as the production company’s mascot much like Mickey Mouse has been at Disney. Using hand drawn animation, bright colours and individually coloured frames, the rich visual style is a sharp contrast to the Western examples featured in this list.

08. Tom and Jerry

Created by the renowned William Hanna and Joseph Barbera duo 17 years before they formed their own company, Tom (originally called Jasper) and Jerry were originally the product of MGM when these characters first debuted in 1940. The journey has continued in the hands of numerous producers and three studios, making fans with their slapstick comedy for over 80 years.

Tom’s angular ears and fur are set against Jerry’s rounded character, making them opposites in both personality and appearance. While the animation style has shifted slightly over various incarnations, the original 1940 characters are still identifiable in 2021’s Tom and Jerry in New York. The only real difference is the lightening of both characters’ fur and the addition of Tom’s sinisterly evil eyebrows.

09. Betty Boop

Made by Fleischer Studios in 1930, Betty Boop’s appearances in television and film hasn’t increased much since the decade of her creation. In spite of her limited filmography, Betty Boop has become one of the most iconic animated characters of all time – replicated in merchandise, comic book films and two films in the 1980s.

Betty Boop is a personification of the 1920s and flapper style. At first, the character was meant to be an anthropomorphic French poodle but Betty Boop was soon modelled after singer Helen Kane instead from who the classic catchphrase came: “Boop Oop a Doop.” Heavily censored by the Hays Code in 1934, Beety Boop’s appearance drastically changed – but it was that early incarnation that has lasted into modern times.

10. The Smurfs

Created by the Belgian comic artist Peyo in 1958 under the name Les Schtroumpfs, The Smurfs is one of the highest-grossing media franchises of all time. Popularised with English-speaking audiences when The Smurfs’ TV series launched in 1981, these iconic blue characters with their distinctive white hats (called ‘Phrygian caps’) quickly entered the mainstream.

These characters are so popular in Belgium that in 2005, UNICEF used The Smurfs to create an advert for their fundraising campaign for Burundi and the Democratic Republic of the Congo – both former Belgian colonies. They’ve since been reimagined in the 2010s using 3D computer animation, bringing The Smurfs to another generation of viewers.

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#animated characters #disney animation studios #mickey mouse #walt disney #ub iwerks #winnie the pooh #aa milne #eh shephard #christopher robin #the simpsons #the tracey ullman show #matt groening #homer simpson #marge simpson #bart simpson #lisa simpson #maggie simpson #guillermo del toro #sylvain chomet #the simpsons couch gag #bibendum #michelin tyre man #logorama #mulan #disney mulan #wreck it ralph #scooby doo #hanna barbera #a pup named scooby doo #scooby doo mystery incorporated

[cassketti]

send him (adrian shephard) to walgreens (or some other mundane place) (if you would like)

Lol

#cassketti art #adrian shephard #i posted this twice so . eh whatever

[im-not-a-sheep]

oh no i think i drew the mask a bit wrong

#the eyes are like too far apart #uhhhhhhhhhhhhh #eh i cant be bothered to fix it #adrian shephard gonna look like a sad panda or smth

[transformsx]

just the same survey thing i appropriated for laura.

SELF + HEALTH

how do they see themselves?   basically realistically, except when it comes to like, being worthy of love / people being attracted to her; she definitely has a Damaged Goods Complex and she is very embarrassed about it

how do they want to be seen by others? competent. useful. gender-free

what is their life motto? “wow, i've never thought about it like that before. and i never will. i've already forgotten what you said, good bye forever“ - wolfpupy 2016

would they rather lead or follow? so hard not to make a gilmore girls joke atm but it depends??? she likes to operate within a #system and she doesn’t like being responsible for other people. but she is also extremely stubborn and hates being told what to do :-)

what motivates them? literally just spite. well, also love / [house tully vc] Family Duty Honor. but mostly spite

are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? tongue. or any old plastic bag will do

do they have any pet peeves? yeah about 5 of them

what do they most regret? don’t worry about it.  

what achievement are they most proud of? she is the achievement she is most proud of

do they have any scars? yeah, lots

do they have a disability? she has fibromyalgia

do they have any allergies or food intolerances? probably. but i do not know them... yet.

do they have any long-term illnesses or injuries? several poorly-healed broken bones. chronic intestinal/digestive issues.

PERSONALITY

describe their personality in one word. stalwart

someone wrongs them. do they respond with revenge or forgiveness? she’s probably just going to pout about it until they start groveling. she is a simple man and she is unlikely to be vengeful on her own behalf (frank might kill you for wronging her, though; this HAS happened before). but she’s also never forgiven anyone for anything in her entire life, and she shows no signs of starting now :-)

do they make snap judgments or take time to consider? she does make snap judgments, but she is open to reconsidering them (though she will probably never admit she was wrong --- it happens, but it takes a lot).

are they a glass half-full or a glass half-empty kind of person? [jack shephard vc] there’s a glass?

do they express themselves through words or deeds? eh, both, but deeds are more reliable. she’s one of those people who often shows affection by being mean.

how often do they lie? as often as necessary. she doesn’t have any qualms about it. the closer she gets to you, though, the less likely it is to happen --- both because she’ll want to be truthful, and because the more defenses you knock down, the worse she will be at lying. she is so easily flustered when she is comfortable ;_; it is very sweet to me ;_;

do they listen to their head or their heart while making a decision? her heart lol though this will NOT be obvious

HABITS

how organized/disorganized are they? very organized but not necessarily in an obvious way. it makes sense to her, though. it’s not meant to make sense to you.

do they have any routines? just little ones --- the order she does things in the morning, or the steps she goes through getting ready for bed, those types of rituals. otherwise her life calls for a lot of adaptability. 

talk about their mannerisms. way ahead of you. that tag is so funny. i highly recommend it

is there an item they take with them wherever they go? not other than her phone

good habits and bad habits. she’s a squirrely little nail-biting nervous smoker. and she’s always nervous. most of her habits are fine, she’s very. she’s an istj

THOUGHTS

their views on formal education vs self-education? she’s not a snob. she more than likely got her GED and definitely started out in community college / was in school way more than four years. that said, her education was really important to her, and while she definitely thinks many self-educated people are Just As Capable, she isn’t likely to like ... be able to comprehend having an in to higher education and passing it up. because she is an istj. but it’s not her business

what are their thoughts on animals? she doesn’t really have any deep thoughts or feelings about them. she does have two cats, though, so her heart is not wholly cold and dead.

how much do they care what people think about them? generally, not much, but then there are a select few people whose opinion of her is like, Everything In The World, so don’t go thinking she’s too well-adjusted

do they enjoy being the center of attention? why or why not? sexually. otherwise not at all. i don’t need to tell you why, it’s not much of a reach

how do they feel about learning? positively ...?

which do they value more: creativity or practicality? practicality. both are important, though. 

thoughts on material possessions? she loves Her Items. everything about her house is so sentimental. that said, she is so clingy with her things because she grew up in poverty --- she isn’t entirely used to having things. which is an important caveat, obviously.

would they rather win an argument or avoid conflict? :-)

views on people in general? ugh.

what qualities do they admire in other people? passion, loyalty, diligence, self-awareness

how do they feel about fun? as long as you don’t want her to do it in public

what do they want written on their tombstone? she’s not thought about it. i doubt she even has a preference about what happens to her when she dies --- she’s like, idk, survivors, whatever makes you feel better :*

thoughts on privacy? (are they private or are they “tmi”?) she’s private. not exactly secretive, though, if you have clearance.

thoughts on superstitions or the occult? (do they believe, not believe, etc.) nah.

what are their religious views? she’s an atheist. not the annoying kind. she just doesn’t get it.

THE PAST

what was their childhood like? the kind of story that you think you’re to a point with that’s like “well, at least things can’t get worse!” but then you know her another year or two and you find out that they really can.

what did they want to be when they grew up? nothing. not for a lack of passion; she just wasn’t inclined to think that way. it would not have served her especially well. 

as a child, what were they most likely to be found doing? playing with bugs. drawing. reading, once she got good at it --- school did not come easily to her when she was getting used to it. nobody had ever really worked with her on anything before. 

which memory stands out most clearly? there’s a flashback sequence about it if you care enough to dig :-P

TOUGH STUFF

do they have any phobias? i’ve been thinking about that. i think the only ones likely to Be Relevant are she’s got some degree of fear of dogs, and she is very afraid of being sedated / anesthetized. she does not like doctors at all.

do they get nightmares? yes. she doesn’t remember her dreams all that often, though, because she drinks herself to sleep every night x

what kind of person are they? small :-)

would they let someone take the blame for something they did? not under many circumstances, but the show is called ‘how to get away with murder’ and is very much about a codependent family of morally grey legal professionals. so.

what is one way to earn their trust? you just have to be persistent. and CONsistent. it takes a certain kind of person, i guess, because she does not make it easy.

what is one way to lose their trust? she isn’t so good at that part.

one thing they would hate anyone to know about them. eh. 

they have to pick one: to be loved, to be feared, or to be admired. loved! loved! but it is nice to be admired. it is sometimes even nice to be feared.

have they ever been bullied or teased? like. yeah. k-12 was hell for her.

FUN STUFF

what are they confident about? her abilities. 

talk about their moral alignment. easydamus: True neutral characters are concerned with their own well-being and that of the group or organization which aids them. They may behave in a good manner to those that they consider friends and allies, but will only act maliciously against those who have tried to injure them in some way. For the rest, they do not care. They do not wish ill on those they do not know, but they also do not care when they hear of evil befalling them. Better for others to suffer the evil than the true neutral and his allies. If an ally is in need, the true neutral will aid him, out of genuine love or because he may be able to count on that ally a little more in the future. If someone else is in need, they will weigh the options of the potential rewards and dangers associated with the act. If an enemy is in need, they will ignore him or take advantage of his misfortune.True neutrals are offended by those who are opinionated or bigoted. A "hell-fire and brimstone" lawful good priest is just as offensive as a neutral evil racial supremacist in their eyes. They do not necessarily strive for philosophical balance. In fact, they may avoid philosophical considerations altogether. A true neutral may take up the cause of his nation, not because he necessarily feels obligated to do so, but because it just makes sense to support the group that protects your way of life. True neutrals tend to believe in lex talionis forms of justice.

what will make them laugh? you’re on your own! if it happens for you, you will have 7 years of good luck.

what makes them feel safe? just ... knowing where she stands. that includes her relationships with people. she’s easy to reassure if you’re in the right Relationship Category.

favorite color and the reason for it. blue. pretty.

favorite book genre? literary. she likes old mystery novels, too. 

favorite movie genre? nora ephron movie. you’ve got mail is her favorite.

do they have a role model? lmfao

#study.

[siro-cyll]

Thinking about a multiverse hopper Ford briefly meets, Shephard

#shephard #these are messy but eh #it's all i've been able to draw with work being busy

[valko-lapsus]

It's their birthday, and they get to launch that fucking gnome into space if they want to.

#half life #half life opposing force #hl #hl:of #gordon freeman #adrian shephard #gnome chompsky #sorry if the quality is kinda eh i was quickly sketching this out while watching the stream

[simptasia]

all the women in LOST are doms, all the men are subs

#lost headcanons #all... all of them... its really quite remarkable #you ever see a m/f couple and you KNOW she has fucked him with a strap-on? or at least they would if given the opportunity? #LOST is full of that energy #kate & jack... juliet & sawyer... shannon & sayid... charlotte & daniel... #all of 'em but those stick out to me the most #bruh don't let anybody try to convince you jack shephard and james ''sawyer'' ford are not Subby As Fuck #also i feel like if ben was living within a context where he could've developed and expressed his sexuality in a healthy manner... #that he would enjoy being consensually tied up #eh maybe in limboverse

[shephardlovesyou]

Quick (I wish) sketch of Yukari Takeba mashed with someone else whose birthday happens to be on Oct. 19th.

Happy Halloween

#my art #sketch #messy #rough #yukari #not great #but eh #shephard draws

[wherekizzialives]

WWI: Fifty two months, fifty two posts – 30 - War as drawn by man who illustrated Winnie the Pooh

WWI: Fifty two months, fifty two posts – 30 – War as drawn by man who illustrated Winnie the Pooh

I must admit that until I came across this book in my local bookshop I had no idea that E. H. Shepard, best know to us all as the man who illustrated A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh, had served in WWI, never mind that he’d drawn his way through the trenches (although that should have been obvious, given that he’s an artist). On Amazon the book is summarised thus:  Shepard’s War is an intimate,…

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#EH Shephard #war art #winnie the pooh

[myclownjunction]

Turning tables! Karl Heisenberg x Reader that can shapeshift into animals

*He stalks you first to scare you to death and then trying to kill you, he loves to chase you around the factory seeing and hearing your pants and yelps you're just a simply scared girl, right?

*WRONG!

*You walked around in the big stuffy factory creepy feeling that someone watches every step you take and look around your instincts scream at you to change so you do turning into a rat

*Karl Heisenberg comes out awaiting you on the top stairs but sees nothing that leaves him dumb folded, he looks over the perimeter, he can't see where the hell did you go, you were here he saw you on the camera!!

*WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO? AND WHAT THE HELL DID HAPPEN IN THESE FEW MINUTES!!!

*Him confused so much that he starts to turn everything upside-down, scraps and metal parts flying around he is so confused and angry, where is HIS PLAYTHING? Did the loneliness make him see things? No, it can't be! You were running around and dodging the soldats right and left!!!

*You, on the other hand, hold yourself not to blow your undercover the whole situation reminds you of an angry puppy that can't find its favorite toy to play with, and that highly amuses you as you squeak as a metal part flying nearby hits you and him muttering something about "Filthy rascals!"

*He moves around again as you try to skedaddle your way out of the hallway to the hole near the metal doo, where he came from, and into the next room to get away from his attention, as you head bangs and objects being thrown from behind the door he says "Come on, doll you can't hide forever right?!" ohh yes you can!

*He's angry now as you feel something strong being smashed, probably by his hammer. The man wants to play. BUT.WHERE.ARE.YOU.HIDING?

*You need to shape-shift again and at the very moment you turn back at your normal self, a damn Soldat wobbles into the room, making you groan as you hear Karl's laughter and him saying "Now I know where are you darlin'!" as you hear him walking closer so and the Soldat does you're angry as you transform into a rather huge bull and gore the poor idiot even before he has a chance

*Heisenberg barges through the door as he says loudly with excitement "FOUND YOU, LITTLE RED RIDING HO-..." He freezes as he looks at the blood-covered bull and the dead Soldat he's so damn confused "What the actual FUCK is going on here..is it some kind of damn rodeo or somethin'?" his presence makes you snort and bolt from your spot.

*His done with the surprise "I guess it's time for a good ole ride, eh?" he smiles and walks through the secret passage making it in front of you as you hit the breaks before crashing into him, he chuckles and smiles winking at you "Gonna give me a ride there, buddy?" 

*You smile too, making the playful attitude of the man in front of you to confused, even more, "Wha-?" he could not finish the sentence as you shapeshift into a dog or more specifically into a German Shephard 

*He's stunned... No really how in the name of the hellish hell did you turn into a dog! Well, he guesses there's only one way to find out. Chase it is he knows the factory better than his five fingers as he walks through passages and tries to find your source through the CCTV cameras

*Silence as you run around trying to find a way out. Heisenberg, on the other hand, enjoys the chase it makes him hungry for more, he wants you for his plan, and guess what...YOU WILL BE PART OF HIS PLAN EVEN IF HE HA TO PUT A MUZZLE ON YOU OR RIDE YOU INTO OBLIVION!!!!

*Let the chase begin, you fast him-faster, you clever him the-cleverest, you hide, he seeks and hell being on his territory it's a losing game for you since the very beginning 

* But he didn't expect you to change forms so fast."YOU LITTLE-!" he snarls in his deep gruff voice already losing patience. He decided to try a more narrow hole. BIG MISTAKE! HUGE!

*He's stuck, so stuck, you come close to him in your dog form, breathing heavily as your tongue sticks out to cool your running session from him, letting your guard down...NOW IT WAS YOUR GRAND MISTAKE

* "Okay let's face it, you are the owner of the factory. If I help you out and chase away trespassers and might even help you around the factory that you'll never hurt me! Is that a de-" you try to finish as a chain wraps around your neck as Heisenberg laughs and walks out the much larger hole now and looks down at you smirking, you think you're dead...........

*He thinks of the pros and the cons, then slowly nods his head as he squats and looks at you letting his hand towards you carefully "I think of you're loyal to me and obedient pup, we'll get along...what do you think?"

*You, on the other hand, pull away as he squints at you, you look at the chain, then at him and he chuckles "You might bite me, I'm not a fool...prove that you won't pup!!".

*He waits as he looks at you and you take one step close to him, ears up and nose sniffing his glove, as you take his scent in and come closer as he lets his hand on your head petting you slowly and scratching behind your ears

* You feel his warm hand as he pets you and now you understand why dogs love to receive rubs and scratches...it's a heavenly feeling you bark happily wagging your tail earning a chuckle from him

*Since then you work together as you help him around, catching rats, helping him carrying heavy things and him taking good care of you and protect you IF YOU DARE TO CALL YOURSELF A MONSTER...Just you dare to! "Darlin' you wanna me to show you how the real monster looks like!?" you blush at his comment he chuckles and says "I mean I could show you this monster too darling, it doesn't bite !" he winks and laughs as you blush and squeal his name in embarrassment

*Karl is surprised one time when you turn into a mare and proceed to give him a ride, he's frantic as a little child could be, he feels happy and free in that moment, careless as one time he had been, he so grateful to you for this amazing moment

*Oh HIM, POSSESSIVE OF YOU, he doesn't ket lycans near you and any other monster, FORBID the other Lords to look at you HE PROTEC, he ATTAC,

 *Even if you don't know it yet, you got his attention and now there's no way out of this he gave you his trust, and his trust is a very, very hard thing to win

*You're his, and he's yours and this will be till the last breath of both of you!!

*Loves to watch how you hunt people in your many forms, helping him out in the factory and with trespassers, he ADORES your puppy form, he would coo and hug you all day, he adores just holding you close and playing with you, as you help him in the workshop, he would practically shove the bad mood in the hind and enjoy his time with you, this man is a mush when you're in your puppy form.

*He'll buy puppy things from the Duke to drees you and make you look cute, you wear the collar he gifted you even in human form, showing him how deep you care for him ;)

*You CAN TURN INTO A DRAGON...he's lovestruck, he loves to fly with you as he enjoys the freedom, the views but most important his time with you, if you shed a scale or teeth he'll make a trinket from it and wear it with his other necklaces. You love to see him coo over you as you're blowing the fire to mend some metals together it's hot, I MEAN REAAAALLLY HOT!

#kalr heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karlheisenberg #karl heisenberg x you #karlheisenbergxreader #heisenberg x reader #re8 heisenberg #daddy heisenberg #heisenberg imagine #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg resident evil #myclownjunction posts #myclownjunction writes #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[hunterartemis]

The Fiery Priest Quotes That Killed Me and Brought me Back like St. Lazarus

"Evil Spirit, Hang in there"

"God is telling me to shut your mouth"

"You should pluck your nose hair. You deal with civil complaints don't you?"

"You there! at 2nd... 4th... 6th... 8th row with the Mocha Bread! How dare you much during the Mass..."

"Have you ever been beaten with Cow's ribs?"

"Gosh, he still handsome after sunset. I should have put on some makeup"

"It's so embarrassing but I need to pee." "Don't go peeing, what if you jinx the game!"

"EH DAEBUM TRADING, THE 150 MILLION IS MINE" slaps lips "crazy fella, what are you saying?!"

"You won't go down because of cheating, gambling, or loan sharks. you'll go down because of your poop"

"Does this make sense... in bad daylight... in broad daylight we have been robbed by a German Shephard and a Rover. In Korea too!"

and last but not the least

"ahhh... STRESSS!"

#the fiery priest #kim nam gil #lee ha nui #the fiery priest quotes #is the fiery priest even real #kdrama shits and giggles #kdrama funny quotes #comedy #laugh

[lunarreaper-ut]

I've come up with another question, this time for everyone.

Does anyone own a pet? If so, what is it, and what is their name?

Not a lot of the Cast have animals actually, but I've debated having Killer eventually get a pet! I'll put the ones who do have a pet under the cut!

Edge has a pet! Edge has a Paveline (Pav-eh-line), a mostly feline creature with features of a peacock! There are normal cats and dogs in this universe, but there are many fantastical creatures too, and Paveline are one of them!

He calls her Monarch. She has a red coloration, as a Paveline can come in various colors rather than just the typical peacock colors. She's a very prideful creature, and she and Red do not get along all that well. She's larger than your typical house cat, and she loves fruit.

Stretch and Blue have a dog, a Pomeranian named Sweets. She's a very well trained, intelligent pupper! Stretch takes her for walks daily, and Blue has her food homemade. Sweets likes playing dress up. They're debating getting another pup to add to the family.

Comic feeds a Fae Shephard that he found in the forest, but he doesn't really own it. A Fae Shephard is a dog-like Fae creature, which typically have elemental magic. A Fae Shephard may go by other names, depending on the breed of dog it resembles.

Fae animals are best left to the Fae, but he found it when it was a pup and he couldn't just leave it. He took it home and fed it until it was big enough to live on it's own.

It visits him now and then, and he feeds it while it hangs around. It's usually gone by the time Pyrus gets home. Comic calls it Shep. He's not sure how Shep gets around, but he's sure no one else has seen Shep. Maybe she teleports?

Shep is very quiet, almost unnaturally so, but she is a Fae animal so Comic isn't too surprised.

#answered asks #Kingdomverse? #Kingdomverse #KV!Edge #KV!Stretch #KV!Blue #KV!Comic

[david-keystone]

You wanted what???!!!

Carpe Diem Quam Minimum Credula Postero. Seize the day, trust as little in tomorrow as possible. Sounds like good advice. When you have grandchildren running around your house holding up their arms to you, it is truly required policy. Don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world. But, getting from my office to the kitchen is like traveling through an airport on Christmas eve with evidence that apparently Santa’s sleigh crash landed at Gate-6. Never mind a German Shephard and two exceptionally opinionated cats to muddle through, it is always a challenge, at least it will keep me light on my feet and in good shape.

So, this is Tumblr huh. Well, last decade it was livejournal. Eh, it was ok for awhile. But posting anything other than words, was for awhile a bit tedious. By the time they made it easier, I had lost interest. Of course, there’s always blogsphere, but once again, I want a virtual kettle of anything and everything in one location, so regardless, i can post words, pics, videos, humor, rants, whatever.

So we’ll see.......oh for those that are reading this, my profile pic is when my wife and I went to Disney World for a week. Everyone that saw that pic called me Bocephus. Whatever......

#Druid #Smoky Mountains #Spiritual #Ancient Knowledge books relics

[this-house-is-half-alive]

angry bcuz you arnt the only gayboy shephard, eh mitch 💽

MITCHELL: I’m pissed because he won’t fucking admit it!

MITCHELL:  I think since Alyx and Adrian were so kind enough to invite Vandalay here, I think I should get to invite someone to join us too.

[Mitchell gets up and starts to walk off.]

ADRIAN: What is he-

MITCHELL: Oh Cemeeeeent~!

ADRIAN: Mother fucker-!

#thiha #mitch.chr #adrian.chr #chapter three #anonymous

[chipper9906]

Bound To You - Chapter 6: Dead Ends

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE:  Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 9,111 

Overall Word Count: 43,900

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Profress (6/?)

Chapter Preview:

Dean could see just how bad of a state the guy was in; dark bruises were littered all over the man’s pale skin, multiple cuts and lacerations decorating every piece of skin Dean could see, oozing out streams of dark blood that stained the button-up shirt of the man’s suit.

‘Jesus… what the hell are they doing to the guy?’

‘That’s not a “guy”, Dean…’

‘Huh?’

‘I recognize the man… that was the last vessel I saw Atheed possessing…’

‘You telling me the Men of Letters managed to trap an angel?’

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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

Dean found himself waking up the next morning to the delicious smell of bacon wafting down the hallway and into his room. It was this – and only this – that convinced Dean to haul himself out of the comfort of his warm bed and pull himself into his chair.

He had only just settled into the chair when there was a light rap of knocks on his bedroom door. He looks up to see Sam poking his head through the gap he cracked open in the door, eyes briefly scanning across the room before landing on Dean.

“Oh, good, you’re up! Thought if the smell of bacon wouldn’t get you of bed, then nothing would…”

“I’m always happy to be woken up for bacon, Sammy.”

Sam glanced at something behind the door, chuckling quietly to himself before returning his attention to Dean. “There’s someone here that’s dying to see you…”

Dean didn’t even have time to ask Sam who he was talking to before Sam opened the door a tad bit wider, giving enough room for a blur of fur to shoot into his room, claws skidding on the concrete floor as Miracle runs to him.

“Hey, girl!” Miracle was jumping excitedly at his wheelchair, desperate to get as close to Dean as possible. It didn’t even seem to faze her that Dean wasn’t quite the same as he was when he left. She just cared he was home.

‘Is… is that a dog?’

‘Yeah! This is Miracle!’

Miracle had managed to get her two front paws atop of Dean’s legs, and Dean got the jarring feeling again when he realized he couldn’t actually feel her weight on his legs. He didn’t have much time to ponder over this as Miracle had reached his face, running her slobbering tongue everywhere she can reach.

“Blegh – Good to see you too, girl.” Dean lightly pushed her away from his face, ruffling his hands along the sides of her face.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Sam said through his chuckles, backing out from the doorway and disappearing down the hallway. “Breakfasts waiting – don’t let it go cold!”

‘Oh - this was the surprise you were talking about?’

‘Yep! You don’t sound too surprised?’

‘Just… processing it. I didn’t think you were much of a dog person?’

‘Eh, not really… But ever since Colonel, they’ve earned a bit more of my respect.’

‘The… German Shephard that was a witness to murder?’

‘That’s the one. Sometimes I think about making that disgusting potion thing to talk to Miracle. I never did learn what dogs were put on Earth for…’

‘…What?’

“Uh, nothing, nevermind. So, you wanna meet her?’

‘Am I not doing that right now?’

‘Not properly! You should take control, meet her right! Give her a good scratch behind the ears.’

‘You want me to take over? You’re sure?’

‘No Cas, I’m not sure; I’m worried you’ll take control of my body forever and kill my dog. Yes I’m sure you dumbass, now get up here!’

Miracle was able to pick up the change immediately. The second the familiar green eyes of her owner turned into that dazzling blue, her furiously wagging tail came to a stop. Yet, she did not move from her position. She didn’t back away from him in fear like Castiel was expecting her to.

“Um… hello,” Castiel greeted the dog leaning on his lap awkwardly.

‘Dean, I’m worried I’m going to startle her.’

‘Why? Can she sense you’re an angel or something?’

‘Dog’s have incredible senses, far beyond what humans are capable of. It’s likely she can feel my grace inside you, perhaps even smell it.’

‘…What does grace smell like?’

‘It varies from angel to angel. The scent typically expands out to the vessel, so it’s likely you may even be able to pick up on the smell if you were close enough.’

Cas stretched out a tentative hand towards Miracle, slowly moving his hand as not to spook her. He stopped his hand right in front of her snout, to which Miracle gave him an eager sniff.

‘Huh… that’s kind of cool, actually. Is it kind of like humans, where our body odor can smell different to other people?’

‘Not entirely the same, but similar. A human’s scent is used for mating purposes, typically. If a person has a pleasant smelling odor, it’s because their immune system is vastly different to yours.’

‘And that’s good for mating because…?’

‘Because then if you were to have a child, their immune system would be the strength of both of yours combined. It’s nature’s way of increasing your offspring’s chances – of course, humans have adapted so well in most countries that infant mortality rate isn’t much of a problem anymore.’

‘Huh… you know a strange amount about humans, Cas.’

‘Well, it was my job to watch over them for millennia’s. There’s not much else to do but learn about them.’

The longer Miracle spent sniffing Cas, the faster her tail began to wag – going from a steady swing back and forth to a blurred mess of fur. Castiel wasn’t too sure why, but the sight brought a warmth to his chest and a joyful smile stretching across his face. Miracle only became more excited at the sight of his smile, trying to pull herself up even closer and bury her head into his hands for more scratches and pets.

‘Think it’s safe to say she likes you, Cas.’

Even Dean was smiling within his own mind, watching as his best friend bonds with his other best friend.

‘I like her, too. Her fur is addictingly soft.’

‘Great for cuddles.’

‘Dean Winchester cuddling a dog? I’m sorry I missed such a sight.’

‘Says the big scary angel of the lord that’s practically melting in her paws…’

‘You think I’m scary?’

‘Now? Nah, but only because I know you wouldn’t hurt me… too bad. But when I first met you? Yeah… when you showed me your wings for the first time, I was both in awe and seconds away from pissing my pants.’

‘As soldiers of God, I suppose it makes sense that we were created to have a fear invoking appearance. In fact, when he was still in Heaven, Gabriel would often regale the story of talking to the shepherds; how he had to call after then to not be afraid as they ran away…’

‘I think I’ve heard of that story before… wasn’t it in the Bible?’

‘That it was. Gabriel begged for the story to be passed onto the prophets…’

‘Sounds like Gabriel. And that sounds like my stomach growling… Let’s get this show on the road, Cas; bacon’s awaiting.’

Switching possession was still a strange feeling for Dean. It was almost like trying to squeeze past someone in a tight corridor, going from this muted and out of focus vision to a sharp and overwhelming reality.

Miracle happily trotted alongside Dean as he wheeled down the bunker’s hallways, plastering on a smile as he descends the little ramp over the stairs into the kitchen. Sam and Eileen were situated behind the kitchen counter, Eileen sipping on a fresh cup of coffee whilst Sam finished up plating a towering stack of fluffy pancakes.

“Morning!” Eileen was the first to spot him, lowering her mug back down and returning Dean’s warm smile. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, actually,” Dean answered honestly, wheeling himself over to the kitchen island and eying up the food goods on display; an appetizing spread of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and – the newest addition from Sam – a plate of pancakes.

“You guys make all this?” Dean was fighting himself tooth and nail not to snatch a piece of bacon for himself (and slip a piece for Miracle….)

“Yep,” Sam replied, looking proudly to the spread. “Eileen cooked up the bacon and eggs. Thought you might want some good eggs and not my rubber eggs.”

“Good call,” Dean had given in to the urge, speaking through a mouthful of perfectly crispy bacon. “Surprised you’re not serving me those egg whites only omelet and fake bacon…” Dean paused, glancing down frantically to the half piece of bacon in his hands. “Wait, unless-,”

“It’s real bacon,” Sam assured him, though rather disapprovingly as he began shoveling some eggs onto his own plate. “I’m not that cruel.”

“You did it before! Brought home that synthetic crap from the store…”

“It tastes just the same!” Sam argued over his shoulder, searching through one of the cabinets for their depleting bottle of maple syrup. “And it’s better for you.”

“It does not taste the same,” Dean grumbled in response, accepting the freshly poured cup of black coffee Eileen passed over to him. “And that’s why I don’t let you go shopping for groceries on your own anymore.”

‘Sam does raise a valid point, Dean.’

‘Oh no. Don’t you start with me too, Cas. I’m already sacrificing my whisky for you, do not ask me to give up my bacon on top of that.’

“I was starting to worry when the smell of sausages cooking didn’t rouse you from your slumber,” Sam commented, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Good thing the bacon did the job, or I’d have assumed you passed in your sleep.”

“Eh, what can I say,” Dean shrugged his shoulders, wheeling himself and his plateful of food (very carefully…) over to the kitchen table. “Getting stabbed through the back really takes it out of you. Plus, you see this face? Doesn’t stay this pretty at my age without some beauty sleep, Sammy.”

“You’re not that old,” Sam scoffed. “Besides, since when do you sleep in till noon?”

Dean nearly spat out his mouthful of coffee, frantically shoving his flannel sleeve back to check the time on his watch. Yep, just as Sam had said, his watch blinked back the numbers ’12:23’ at him in bright white lettering. “Huh… would you look at that…”

“You have a good dream you didn’t want to wake up from something?” Sam joked, having no idea how close to the truth he actually was.

“Something like that. Man… can’t remember the last time I slept that long. You know, without being knocked out or forced unconscious, or anything like that.”

“Obviously, your body needed the sleep,” Eileen commented, finishing off her last triangle of toast and placing her leftover scraps of sausages and bacon on the floor for Miracle to feast on (which she definitely didn’t leave on purpose). “Doesn’t matter how much drugs the hospital pumps you with; you’ll never have as good of a night’s sleep as you do in your own bed.”

“Amen to that,” Dean stretched out his arms in front of him, listening to the satisfying cracks and pops of his elbow and shoulder joints. “So, what’s the plan for today? Straight to the library, skim through books till we’re bored to tears?”

The happy go lucky smile on Dean’s face slowly slipped away as he saw the anxious looks Sam and Eileen were sharing. Uh oh… That was never good. That was the look of ‘we have something we need to tell you, and we know you’re not going to like it’. Dean hated that look… especially since he knows he’s been one to sport the expression for himself many times over the years.

“Uh, actually…” Sam begun, looking to Eileen for help. “Eileen actually kinda… found a case… while you were in the hospital.”

“Oh…” Dean squeaked out, the remaining few bites of pancake left on his plate no longer looking as appetizing as they did a few seconds ago.

“I wasn’t looking for one,” Eileen stressed that fact, guilt already twisting at her features. “It’s… it’s kind of been all over the news, actually.”

“Yeah, and that’s kinda the reason we’re bringing it up,” Sam added in, backing up Eileen. “From what we think we know… there’s already been seven deaths connected to this thing.”

“Jesus… seven?” Dean couldn’t believe he hadn’t caught wind of this himself. Then again, it wasn’t as if he had been actively searching for a case these past few days…

“We did some more research into it this morning. We’re pretty sure it’s a simple salt and burn job – a day, maybe two. It’s local too, just a few towns over.” Sam told him.

“And you’re… what, asking me for permission?” Dean wheeled himself over to the sink, focusing on dropping his plates into the soapy water rather than on Sam and Eileen’s matching looks of guilt.

“No, just… wanted to let you know is all,” Sam forced the words out rather awkwardly, unsure whether to keep in place or walk over to Dean. “We, uh… we’ll be heading off in about twenty minutes. We’ve already burnt enough daylight, so…”

“Yeah, course. Sure,” Dean forced out, pushing down the bitterness that wanted to enter his tone. “Don’t want to be the one that’s holding you guys back like I have all morning, so don’t hang around for me or anything.”

“Dean-,” Sam tried, taking a single step towards him. 

“It’s fine, Sammy,” Dean snapped, holding out an arm to stop Sam from getting any closer. “Seriously. You two can watch each other’s backs, so I’m not worried there. You guys need any help, then – y’know – don’t know there’s much I can do but, guess you can call me; be whatever FBI director or whoever you need to call if the local badges start asking questions.”

“Dean… you know we wouldn’t be doing this usually, but… with the hunt so local and so many people already dead…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dean brushed Sam off. “Go. Really, go on the hunt. I’ll be fine here. Get some research done for once.”

“We won’t take long,” Eileen assured him. “We want to help Cas, too. We’ll be here for that, we promise.”

“Uh-huh. You guys better get going then. Don’t let me stop you,” Dean rolled away from the two of them before they could say anything, forcing himself back up the ramp and down the bunkers hallway, which never seemed as long as it does now.

Miracle, ever loyal, trudged on after him, slipping into his room before he slammed the door. Turns out that slamming the door is more difficult when in a wheelchair, having to grab hold of the edge of the door behind him and force it backward. It didn’t quite make the echoing slam the heavy wooden doors usually do, which only pissed him off more. What’s the point of slamming a door if the person you’re mad at can’t feel it shaking through their bones?

‘You not gonna say something? Tell me off for getting snappy at them or some crap like that?’

‘I thought that if I remained silent that you wouldn’t direct your anger at me. Clearly, that didn’t work. I get that you’re frustrated Dean, but it’s not fair to direct that at Sam and Eileen. They haven’t done anything wrong-,’

‘Haven’t done anything wrong!? I haven’t even been home a day and they’re already ditching me for a hunt!’

‘Are you saying you wouldn’t do the same in their place? Knowing that seven innocent people have already lost their lives?’

‘No! I mean… maybe… it’s just… I just got home. Now I’ve got to sit around here doing nothing while they’re out there working?’

‘I know you want to be out there with them, Dean; but Sam and Eileen are just doing what’s right. And I think you know this, otherwise, you wouldn’t have been provoking me into “telling you off”.’

‘Really don’t like how much of me you’ve figured out after being in my head for like, three days.’

‘Does that mean I was correct in my assumption?’

Dean sent over a slightly blurry, staticky, barely put together mental image of his middle finger over to Cas, hoping it’d ruffle some feathers.

It did.

‘No need to be rude, Dean. I think I’ll retreat for a bit while you get over your temper tantrum.’

‘Temper Tantrum? Seriously? You treating me like I’m five - is that it? That how you think you’re gonna solve things?’

Cas stayed true to his word, only silence filling the gap in his mind which Cas’s words typically took up.

‘Temper Tantrum… say’s the guy that’s giving me the silent treatment. Now that’s childish.’

Silence. Nothing but silence and his own thoughts echoing in his mind.

‘Fine. Be like that. I’ll go find my own damn work to do…’

  * * *

The library never felt quite so empty and… boring. Sure, he still had Miracle, who was curled up in her memory foam dog bed that Dean had dropped a few pretty pennies on (and still hasn’t told Sam about the actual price). As great as she was for company, it turns out that dogs aren’t so skilled in the whole conversation part of companionship. Unless you count Dean talking to her in that way people talk to their dogs - which he once found annoying but would now be a hypocrite to say so.

Dean had scoured through all the book titles that seemed to allude to any information on angels and vessels – well, those on the bottom of the bookshelves anyway – and now had them neatly stacked on the table in front of him. Sam and Eileen had long since left the bunker, wisely choosing not to say goodbye – or anything for that matter – disappearing into the garage and leaving him here. The hours had ticked by way too slow, the words on the page in front of him starting to blur together and become an incomprehensible mess. He had re-read this particular passage on the comparisons of the limited real-life encounters with angels to their bible counterparts about five times now, but his brain was stubbornly refusing to take any of that information in.

Dean slammed the thick-binded cover closed, choking back a cough when it kicked up a mini mushroom cloud of dust, sliding the book across the table away from him. It was all starting to feel pointless. He knew that angels were pretty elusive creatures in the supernatural world, but he had no idea it was by this much. Damn near every book on angels, or any mention of angels in any creature encyclopedia he’s scanned through all seem to have the same message of “we’re talking out of our ass here”. All these books were nothing more than guesses based on other supernatural creatures. And sure, yeah, they got some of those guesses right from the limited knowledge of angels he’s got from Cas, but there was no guarantee on any of the info. What if they find something that can bring Cas’s body back, but it’s another hypothesis? What if it goes wrong? What if it doesn’t work at all? What if messes Cas up on the transfer, especially if they need to use all of Cas’s grace for it to work, and-

‘You’re panicking.’

Dean startled in his chair, Cas’s voice joining the spiraling thoughts in his mind for the first time in a good few hours.

‘What?’

‘Your heart rate has increased to a hundred and five beats per minute and you started screaming in your head again.’

‘Oh, and so you decided to take pity on me and stop the silent treatment?’

‘I decided it was best to interrupt your incoming anxiety attack before you put too much strain on your healing body. And it seems to have worked, considering you’re converting your worries into pettiness and directing it at me once again.’

‘I get it, Cas. I’m being a dick. That what you wanted to hear?’

‘I was hoping for an apology, but I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.’

‘Damn straight it is. Now, you gonna help me here for what?’

‘Help you how?’

Dean pulled the next book out from the top of the stack, thumping it down on the table and flipping it open to the first page. ‘You can put your special angel eyes to use and help me find something of use in here.’

‘My… special angel eyes?’

‘Yeah. What, you telling me an angel's eyesight is the same as a human’s? That the high and mighty angels of the Lord were cursed with the same pathetic eyes as the mud monkeys-,’

‘Dean, you know full well I do not look down on humans like my other brothers and sisters occasionally do.’

‘I know, Cas. Was making a joke. I’m just saying, could use a second pair of eyes as I read through this. Point out anything I might miss. Which I will. A lot.’

‘I’ll try my best.’

Another two hours passed in companionable silence, the only sounds in the library being Miracle’s snuffled snores and the occasional flip of the ancient and fragile papers under Dean’s fingers. Cas hadn’t said or anything to him in that time – or pointed out something that Dean had skipped over – which only made Dean feel all that more disheartened about this whole ‘creating a body’ idea. He hadn’t really considered the possibility that the idea might not be possible… He had just assumed he’d find something about it in one of the Men of Letter’s countless collection of books and that eventually, it would lead them to somewhere.

‘Dean… what’s that?’

‘What’s what?’

‘At the end of the table. Where you scratched your names into the table. Is that…?’

‘Oh, right. Didn’t show you…’ Dean wheeled himself over to the end of the table, the beginnings of a smile on his face as he looked down at the names crudely carved into the wood. ‘After we came home, we, uh… added you and Jack to the table. Bunker felt damn quiet and I, uh… It’s stupid, but I went back into the dungeon. Thought maybe… I dunno, maybe you’d still be there. You weren’t of course, and… next time I saw the table, I realized we should have added you long ago. Should have had the opportunity to carve your name yourself, but… yeah…’

‘Oh…’

‘You’re… okay with this, right? I’d ask Jack too but, y’know…’

‘I’m more than okay with it, Dean.’

‘You good, man? You kind of sound like you’re about to cry. You’re… not about to cry, are you?’

‘No…’

‘That didn’t sound very convincing.’

‘Didn’t sound very convincing to myself, either. Dean, do you… do you mind if I take over for just a moment?’

‘Uh… sure, Cas. Go ahead.’

Castiel pushed himself into the front of Dean’s mind, waiting for his grace to settle into full possession. He pulled himself closer to the table, reaching out with Dean’s hand and placing it down on the carvings. As gently as possible, he traced the letters of his name with his finger, ignoring the sharp bite of the rugged edges. His name. It was his name that Dean had taken the time to painstakingly carve into the table, both his and Jack’s resting alongside the Winchesters like they were always there.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to add your name sooner.’

‘I never expected you to. Which is why, perhaps, this is… affecting me more than I thought it would.’

‘Yeah… one of the things that made me realize how crappy I can treat you sometimes, Cas. Hell, you should have demanded to have had your name added here.’

‘I would never demand such a thing, Dean. This is… a very personal decision that only you or Sam could have decided, and I… truth be told, I don’t have the words to say how much this means to me.’

‘I don’t think you need words when you’re making my eyes cry, Cas.’

‘Oh, sorry – I’m still not used to your body…’

Castiel raised a hand to his eyes, finding that Dean was telling the truth when he wiped away the tears that were moments away from spilling over. He gave one last look to the names on the table, one last touch to the aged wood before handing Dean’s body back to himself.

‘Guess we better get back to researching… good old research…’ Dean held back a groan as he wheeled back over to the seemingly never-ending pile of books stacked on the table.

‘Probably for the best, yes. Actually, I was thinking before… I wonder if any of these study pieces are by Lilly?’

Dean closed the cover to the third book they had been smimming through, pushing it over to the ‘completed’ pile at the other end of the table. ‘Who’s Lilly?’

‘Lilly Sunder. You don’t remember her?’

‘Oh. Course I remember her. Huh, I didn’t consider it… She did say she had studied angels, didn’t she?’

‘Devoted her life to us. Both in scientific curiosity and… for revenge. I know her studies were from a long time ago, but it’s a possibility that her work could have ended up here. Perhaps under a different pen name, though.’

‘Why would she use a different pen name?’

‘Lilly was working on her studies back in the turn of the nineteenth century. The world wasn’t exactly accepting of women who were interested in the scientific field – especially when that involved mixing science with religious aspects. Trying to theoretically dissect a biblical creature back then… even a man in that field would receive quite the backlash.’

‘Right… Wow, humans suck, huh?’

‘You have your moments of beauty, just as you can have moments of cruelty. I like to think that you’re still maturing as a species. Someday, there will be nothing left but beauty.’

‘Very poetic, Cas.’

Dean couldn’t muster enough energy to pull another book towards him, rubbing at his tired eyes with a frustrated groan. He leaned back in his chair, glancing around at the books on shelves that surrounded him. “All the knowledge in the friggen’ world… but nothing of use.”

‘We don’t know that for sure.’

‘Doubt we have enough time left to comb through every book here, Cas.’

That gave Dean an idea. He perked up in the chair, swiveling his head towards the file cabinets that lined the back of the room. ‘Maybe it’s not in the books… maybe the Men of Letters did some research themselves? There could be something in their files!’

‘It’s a possibility. Though, I do not know of any angels that were in contact with the Men of Letters during the time period they worked in.’

Dean wheeled over to the first cabinet on the left, guessing that anything to do with angels would be stored under the ‘A’ section. ‘You say that like you were aware of every angel's movements.’

‘Not myself, but… As I’ve said before, angels rarely visited Earth before the start of the apocalypse. Only specific cases that were deemed necessary for intervention by those higher up.’

Dean’s finger stilled at the file he had reached, feeling a kick of hope burst in his chest at the title: ‘Angel Exorcism – Exorcising An Angel Whilst Leaving The Vessel Intact.’

‘Cas? You heard of something like this?’

‘An angel exorcism? Other than the relic you used on Lucifer whilst he was possessing your president… Typically, the only way to ‘expel’ an angel is for the vessel themselves to revoke their permission.’

‘You think it’s possible?’

‘I don’t see why not. If humans have found a way to place such magic into a relic… it’s a possibility.’

The file – though, it was more of a folder – was made from thick parchment paper and had been written up by a typewriter. Much to Dean’s excitement, within the folder was a reel of film that was labeled with the same title as the file.

‘Dean… I don’t see what this has to do with recreating a vessel.’

‘I’m just counting our blessings that there’s something angel related in these cabinets. And there’s talks about the vessel here, too. It’s worth a watch at least, right?’

A few minutes later (and a near tip over on a ramp that Dean would rather not mention), they found themselves in the projector room. Dean pulled out the old reel stored within the projector, feeling a fresh wave of sadness wash over him when he recognized it as the tape of Mr’s Butters that Jack had found. Dwelling on those feelings never led to anything good, so Dean hurriedly shoved the other reel into the projector slot and pressing the play button before any more thoughts of Jack begin to settle into his mind.

A grainy mess of greys and whites sparked to life on the screen, frames flickering past until the image of a man in a sharply dressed man came into view. Ah, seemed it was their favorite Men of Letters, Sinclair… Dean could recognize the room as their dungeon room, the sigils painted on the ground looking freshly painted. Behind Sinclair, just out of view, sat a battered-looking man in a chair. His hands were bound in a familiar-looking pair of silver cuffs, head slumped down in apparent unconsciousness. Next to the chair was a wheeled table, a silver tray sat atop bearing tools that Dean couldn’t quite identify yet.

“Experiment Number two-zero-seven for the Men of Letters Archive. This experiment is led by me, Mr. Cuthbert Sinclair. And my assistant behind the camera is one of our new initiates of The Men of Letters, Mr. Henry Winchester.”

‘Henry Winchester… your grandfather?’

‘Yeah… On dad’s side. I didn’t really think about how much he did in the Men Of Letters; I just knew he died after Abaddon possessed that other chick that joined the same time he did.’

“Now what we have here… is a rare occasion. The second I’ve seen. Most of humanity believes angels to be God’s messengers… there to pass on the good Lord’s words to those that are meant to hear it. Some believe them to be God’s minions, there to dish out miracles when God is… unavailable. Neither of these are true. Angels are soldiers, created to carry out God’s dirty work… And if one ever decides to bless you with their presence? Well, I’m afraid to say that a miracle is the farthest thing that will happen to you…”

Sinclair turned away from the camera, which followed him as he stepped up the side of the man still slumped over in the chair. He had come more into focus now, and Dean could see just how bad of a state the guy was in; dark bruises were littered all over the man’s pale skin, multiple cuts and lacerations decorating every piece of skin Dean could see, oozing out streams of dark blood that stained the button-up shirt of the man’s suit.

‘Jesus… what the hell are they doing to the guy?’

‘That’s not a “guy”, Dean…’

‘Huh?’

‘I recognize the man… that was the last vessel I saw Atheed possessing…’

‘You telling me the Men of Letters managed to trap an angel?’

‘It seems so…’

‘You know this angel?’

‘Not too well… We had occasionally crossed paths I suppose, but… I wouldn’t say I “know” him, no. Atheed’s garrison had been dispatched to survey a particularly troublesome band of demons who had managed to fatally wound one of us… the demons were dispatched with, but Atheed never returned. It was assumed he fell in battle, but… now that seems not the case.’

“Now, our inhabitant here hasn’t been particularly talkative… Some of the hunters under our employment were working on a typical demon case when it seems our winged foes here took a particular interest… One was left severely injured once the dust had cleared, and our hunters thought it best to bring him here for help.” Sinclair clicked his mouth and shook his head in disappointment, using his index finger to lift up the angel's chin. “A shame most will never know the true evil of these creatures… these beings with unfathomable power we foolishly believe to be our side…”

Sinclair let the angel's chin drop back down to his chest, turning his face back to the camera and flashing a smile. “See, here’s the thing – best thing we can do for most is to take this here-,” Sinclair gestured to the tray next to him, pointing directly to the angel blade – which likely belonged to the angel in question. “-And rid the world of one of these things… but in doing so, we create waste; somewhere hidden in there, crushed by the weight of this creature, is a human being. A devout believer tricked by this angel’s silver tongue. Some may say that they already sealed their fate when they agreed to possession… but as I said, angels can be very persuasive. Why should this innocent man have his life cut short? Why isn’t there a way to remove the angel, but keep the man inside alive? Today, we’re going to try just that with a little theory of mine.”

Much to Dean’s confusion, Sinclair then proceeded to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt. Then, Dean caught sight of the thin silver chain wrapped around his neck, leading down to a small glass vial that Sinclair lifted up to the camera. The vial contained a bright liquid-like substance, it’s color hidden by the black and white footage. Not that Dean needed to see the color; he already had a feeling he knew what that swirling mixture inside the bottle was…

‘It’s… it’s grace. Atheed’s grace.’

“The last time we had access to an angel, we were able to perform another experiment; finding a way to extract an angel of their grace to see the effects it had on the angel, and to see what uses the grace can provide outside its host. I have repeated the same procedure here, but this time I have not extracted all the grace. You see, when we first performed the procedure, we expected for the removal of the grace to also remove the angel. Not so, unfortunately. It simply stripped the angel of their power, leaving them mortal… taking over control from the vessel. So this time, our angel here still has some of his grace left, but not much. Barely enough to keep himself an angel.”

Sinclair dropped his hand away from the vial, now reaching for a small box contraption sat atop the tray. He picked it up, thumb hovering over a plastic window which encased a big red button that gave Dean some serious villain type vibes.

“For our next step, we will be moving our angel outside the bunker. If things go right, there shouldn’t be a mess to clean up, but for safety sake, this is best done outside.”

Just as Sinclair had said, the footage shifted from grainy footage of the bunker interior to a shot of the forest outside the bunker. Atheed was still sat in the same chair, handcuffs still secured around his wrists, but now he seemed to be regaining consciousness. He was clearly out of it, eyes half-lidded as he blearily took in his surroundings, barely having enough strength to lift his head up from his chest. As usual, Sinclair was stood next to him, though this time a few steps away. The contraption was still sat snugly in his hand, that infuriating smile remaining plastered on his face. Strangely, Dean could see a few wires extending out from Atheed’s body, trailing down from his chest to the ground, connected to the contraption in Sinclair’s hand.

“Not only will we be removing the angel… but my hope is we are also able to kill the angel. The amount of Grace it has left is dangerously low – not enough to survive a transfer to another vessel. And these cuffs here are helping to dampen that even more… Otherwise, our angel here would have fled long ago. The only thing keeping this angel alive, to exists in this plane… is the vessel he resides in. So, it goes to say that it would be in his best interest to keep the vessel alive, wouldn’t it?”

Sinclair flashed one last smile at the camera, gesturing for the cameraman his grandpa to step back. Henry did as he was told, walking backward from Atheed as Sinclair followed him at a leisurely pace. The camera panned around to reveal a makeshift cover of sorts, a few sandbags hastily put together in the form of a wall, just enough space for two men. Henry settled behind the sandbags, camera pointed towards Atheed as Sinclair took his place behind the cover next to Henry.

“Our angel has had some… minor surgery beforehand. That is to say, we’ve stuffed him with a few pieces of explosives. Small pieces of dynamite. We left an opening for the wires to be connected to the detonator in my hand.”

‘They’re… they’re insane. They’re just going to blow this guy up?’

‘I… I feel sick. I’m not sure if I can watch this…’

“This is a risky theory, but… it’s the best we got. We need to put the vessel through some serious damage. So damaged that the angel will be forced to intervene. In its last-ditch effort, the angel will use what’s remaining of its grace to heal the vessel. But in doing so… it will have burnt through all that remains of its grace. We are left with the human, fully healed and soul still intact, whilst the angel… has been burnt out from the body. Dead. That is the theory, anyway. All that’s left now… is to see if my theory rings true.”

If Dean wasn’t so desperate for answers, he would have shut this torture porn off long ago. Instead, he – and in turn, Cas – were forced to watch the horrific event unfold. Sinclair flipped the little plastic covering of the detonator up, pressing his thumb into the big red button as casually as one would call an elevator. What was once Atheed disappeared in a spray of meaty chunks within a fine mist, the chair underneath reduced to a pile of singed timber, half of it thrown across the forest by the blast. As disgusting as it all was, Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the carnage. He was waiting to see those chunks of flesh on the floor start to connect back together, the spray of blood on the floor to collect and go back to its rightful body.

That didn’t happen. For a good ten seconds they could only stare at the stain on the floor that moments ago was a human being and an angel, four observers spanning across two centuries watching as an experiment fails quite spectacularly.

“Damn!” Sinclair exclaimed, tossing the detonator in his hands to the floor. “Experiment number two-zero-seven… has failed. Both the angel and human in our possession have been terminated… General conclusion seems to be that the angel did not have enough grace left to heal its vessel… Perhaps, if we’re given the opportunity again, we can repeat the experiment – but reduce the amount of grace we take from the angel…”

The frames begun to flicker, left on Sinclair’s pondering expression as the tape began to wheel down to nothing, the projector shutting off and plunging Dean into darkness. He had yet to say anything, nor had Cas. He could only stare vacantly at the blank projector screen, hoping that the image of that angel being blown into little pieces would eventually disappear from his vision.

‘Cas… you okay?’

‘No. That’s – what they did-,’

‘Yeah… I know…’

‘I know that the relationship between humans and angels have been complicated at best, but… to think the Men of Letters were capable of doing such a thing… To see us as nothing more than an ‘experiment’, it’s…’

‘It’s messed up. After all that, we’re no step closer to finding anything that’ll help you. I really thought there would be something in there, and… Jesus, I can’t stop thinking about how my Grandpa had a part to play in it… I guess they saw angels as… monsters. A threat to humanity.’

‘Our mission was to watch over humanity… We lost sight of that somewhere along the way. Now, though… I’m hoping things will change under Jack’s rule.’

‘You think he’ll make more angels?’

‘It’s a possibility. He has the power for it, even before he absorbed Chuck’s and Amara’s power. It would certainly help to stabilize Heaven, reducing the chance of the souls there being cast out and locking out those that are supposed to ascend.’

‘If only we knew what the kid was doing… would be nice if he dropped in every now and then, you know? A phone call maybe.’

‘…Huh…’

‘Huh? What’s “huh” supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing really, just… for a moment there, you sounded like a stereotypical grumpy father.’

‘Yeah? Well, we have a friggen’ God as our kid – you expect me not to be a little grumpy that he up and vanished on us? Are you not kinda pissed too, Cas? I mean – you died. And he didn’t do anything about it. Not even when you came back.’

‘I’m not going to say I understand why he hasn’t intervened in everything that’s happened since, but mostly… I miss him.’

‘I miss him too, Cas. I’m still pissed, but… I don’t know, maybe it’s more disappointment than anything. I thought – hoped, really – that once we dealt with Chuck we would all have a bit of a break. Chill in the bunker for a bit or, hell, maybe we’d finally take that beach vacation. Jack would probably go all giddy over the concept of sand-castles…’

‘That sounds nice… I think Jack would have loved that.’

‘It’s easy to forget he’s only what, three? Maybe four? Our new God is the son of Satan who is four years old… that’s not a recipe for disaster or anything, right?’

‘He hasn’t gone crazy with his newfound power and tried to bend everyone to his will yet, so he’s doing marginally better than I was.’

‘That’s… one way to look at it. And you were, what, a sprightly couple of billion years old?’

‘Not sure. I stopped counting somewhere after the eight billionth birthday.’

‘Well, if it makes you feel better Cas – you look damn good for your age.’

  * * *

It was rare for Dean to have a good dream.

This was something Castiel had learned over the years. Even though Dean would often voice his displeasure at him about watching over him as he slept, Cas would continue to keep an eye on his slumbering form. Occasionally, he would look into Dean’s mind to see what dream was playing out. If it was a nightmare, he would simply place his hand on Dean’s shoulder and ebb a little bit of grace through him, flushing out the nightmare from his system. It was the least he could do, and Dean always seemed to be that extra bit more rested when he did it – so he never really stopped.

That was until he lost his wings and the boys moved into the Men of Letter’s bunker. It was easier before when he could just fly over to whichever sleazy, rundown motel they had stopped in for the night and keep himself hidden while he watched over Dean. He knew that there was nowhere safer for Dean to sleep than in the sigil covered bunker, and yet… that urge to watch over him always remained.

Nightmares were a common occasion for Dean. That was to be expected of course, with all the unimaginable horrors he’s been through in his short forty-one years on Earth. Now that Castiel was residing within his head, he could finally brush away Dean’s nightmares whenever he stepped into them.

This nightmare, however…

It had caught him off guard. It had felt as if he had woken up to the nightmare himself. At first glance, he was certain he had entered Dean’s memories of Hell. The heat was unbearable, stifling him of any air. The room he was in was packed with smoke, filling his lungs and making it near impossible to breathe. Flames licked down the walls, the ceiling above him ablaze with red-hot flames. There, in the center of the ceiling, were the charred remains of who Castiel was certain to be Mary Winchester. Even though she was nothing more than a burnt corpse, she still screamed in agony, the sound piercing as it echoed around the room.

This dream… it wasn’t acting out like the actual horrific event had. At this point, John Winchester should have already been in the room. He should have been there to witness his wife pinned to the roof; stomach ripped open as the flames erupt. Dean should have run into the burning room, should have had his baby brother placed into his arms and commanded to “Get your brother outside as fast as you can. Now, Dean - Go!” from his father.

Instead, Castiel stood frozen at the sight of Dean, four-year-old Dean leaning over the white crib, its paint peeling from the intense heat as Dean tries desperately to reach for baby Sam within. The sounds of young Dean’s panicked cries as he reached for his screaming brother were overwhelming and heart-breaking, but it was what Castiel needed for his mind to kick into gear.

What he should have done was force the nightmare to disappear. Except, he wasn’t really thinking. More… he was acting on instinct. He had rushed forward, using his arms to shield himself from the embers that danced in the air as he raced towards the crib. Within seconds he had plucked baby Sam from the crib, holding him close to his chest as he wrapped his other arm around Dean, hauling him up and tucking him into his side.

Castiel could feel the burning heat behind him as he ran, pieces of the ceiling collapsing as the fire raged on. His lungs burned with every inhale of smoke, each breath resulting in a choking, spluttering cough that left him gasping for air that wasn’t there. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, matching his rapid steps down the damaged and soot-covered staircase. He very nearly ran into the closed front door, bracing himself before bringing up a leg and slamming it into the weak spot next to the lock. The door flung open from the force, the doorframe splintering and sending shards of wood flying. Cas ran through the front door and into the front yard without looking back, keeping his hold on Sam and Dean tight.

The first few breaths of fresh air were wonderful, and he would have collapsed to his knees and sucked in as much as he could if it weren’t for the two children he held in his arms. Little Sam was still wailing in his arms, struggling against the hold of a man who, technically, was a stranger to him at the time. Dean had since gone quiet, trembling in Cas’s arms as the two of them watched what was once Dean’s home burn.

“It's okay...” Castiel whispered to the two boys in his arms, lowering himself down into the damp November dew-covered grass and watching as the roof of the house collapses in on itself. “You're okay, now. I have you.”

“Is Sammy okay?” Deans' first question came in the form of a frightened child’s broken, trembling voice. A boy that was trying to be brave - even in the face of absolute horror.

“Sammy's fine. He’s a little shaken up, but he’s okay.” Cas lowered his arm down to Dean’s level, who immediately peered over the crook of Cas's elbow to keep a watchful eye on his baby brother.

“Thank you, Cas.”

Cas's eyebrows shot up at the mention of his name. "You know who I am?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, his eyes still glued onto Sam. “You’re my angel. Mommy says you watch over me.”

“I... I suppose I am your angel, yes. Your mommy’s right – I do watch over you. Well, big you, anyway.”

“I know,” Little Dean asserted, reaching out to trail gentle fingers down his little brother’s face, the soothing touch quietening the young boy's wails nearly instantaneously. “Big me say’s you’re my bestest friend in the whole world.”

Despite the horrific situation that was currently playing out in Dean’s subconscious mind, Castiel couldn’t help but let a small smile curl at his lips. “In the whole world, huh? Wow, that’s quite the honor.”

“Big me doesn’t have many friends,” Little Dean continued, the words dampening Cas’ smile just a bit. “Anyone he tries to get close to seem to… go away. Kind of like mommy and daddy did.”

Castiel tightened his hold on Dean a little bit more. “Yes… you’ve been through a lot – the both of you.”

“I have lots of friends at school!” Little Dean’s voice brightened considerably. “It’s not big school yet, mummy calls it kin… kinder…”

“Kindergarten?”

“Yeah! I started not long ago, and my friends are really fun! But… do you think I can keep going to kindergarten now?”

It pained Castiel to see those hopeful young eyes peering up at him, looking to him as if he held all the answers. The real Dean – at least, the Dean he knows today - is there inside this young child’s mind. That Dean knows what comes of this day, of what is waiting for him; and yet, to tell this innocent child the truth… it seems unfathomably cruel to do so.

“I, um… I think that might not happen, Dean.”

Dean’s hopeful gaze slipped, dropping his head back down to look to Sam. “Yeah… I don’t think so either…”

“You will get through this, Dean. Both you and Sam – you’ll grow up into the two most important men on this Earth. Not only will you save the world, but the entire Universe – and all the other Universe’s to ever have been created.”

“We will? Me and Sammy?”

“You will.”

“But… Sammy’s so tiny.”

Castiel chuckled quietly, looking down to the baby in his arms that was barely heavier than a bag of flour, eyelids drooping shut as he began to feel comfortable in Castiel’s hold. “He is right now, yes. He’ll grow to be taller than you, though.”

“What!? That’s no fair! I’m the big brother! I should be biggest!” Dean pushed out his bottom lip into a pout, looking from Sam to Cas with big, wet eyes that Cas is sure got Mary to cave into Dean’s demands once or twice.

“If it helps - even though he’s taller - Sam still looks up to you. No matter what.” Castiel assured him.

The pout disappeared just like that, the first smile he’s seen from young Dean this night appearing on his face. “He does?”

“Of course he does. It’s what you two do; always looking out for each other.”

“And you!” Dean insisted, leaving no room for argument. “Big Dean and Big Sam look out for you too, like you watch over us!”

“Yes, you do,” Castiel agreed gently. “You always do.”

The last of the flames were dying out now. The house was left as a pile of blackened wood, the bare-bone frames of it barely standing after the damage. Smoke billowed up from the remains, blocking out most of the clear night above them. It was almost beautiful; the last of the dying embers glowing softly amidst the pile of soot and rubble – like an abnormally large bonfire.

“Cas?”

Castiel tore his gaze away from what was once the Winchester’s family’s house, eyes landing on Dean’s searching stare. “Yes, Dean?

Little Dean glanced away from a moment, watching baby Sam’s peaceful sleeping face before risking another glance up to Cas. “Can… Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course, Dean. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Little Dean paused, looking to him for a moment before scrambling up to his feet, leaning closer to Cas and cupping his small hands around Cas’s ears, whispering, “Big Dean is really, really scared.”

“He is?” Castiel asked, just about able to see Dean’s head furiously nodding up and down out of the corner of his eye. “What is he scared of?”

“That he’s going to lose you again.”

Dean had whispered it no louder than his last statement, yet he might as well have yelled it for how hard the words punched him in the gut.

Dean was stood by his side now, bracing himself against Cas’s shoulders as he waited patiently for Castiel to speak. It was jarring, seeing Dean like this. He was so used to Dean being the taller one than him - and now, even standing, Dean just barely reached his chin whilst he was kneeling down.

“Can I tell you a secret too?” Castiel asked, keeping his voice as hushed as Dean was. Dean eagerly nodded his head, eyes wide as saucers as he waited for Cas to spill his secrets. “I’m scared of losing you, too. And it never goes away. That’s what happens when you love someone.”

“Big Dean doesn’t like feeling scared.”

“Oh, I know he doesn’t. Could you do me a favor, then? I need you to tell Big Dean that I’m not going anywhere. As long as he wants me here, I’m not leaving.”

“You can’t promise that,” Dean said, much to Cas’s surprise. “Sometimes people don’t get to choose when they leave. If he could, Big Dean would keep you in his head forever, coz’ at least then he can protect you better.”

“I thought I was the one that was supposed to be protecting you?”

“You do. But Big Dean wants to protect everyone.”

Castiel sighed, looking up to the surroundings beyond the remains of the house. The stars were disappearing from the sky, the black of night spilling out and claiming everything else. Soon, everything around them would be nothing but an endless blackness.

Dean was waking up.

“Yes, he does... even when doing so risks himself...” Castiel noted, preparing himself to be ripped from this dream and into Dean's groggy, wakening consciousness mind.

“You're different, though,” Little Dean added, his voice fading away with the rest of the dream. “And that's why bigger me is so scared. You're something different to him – and he's too scared to find out what that kind of different is.”

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fix it #fix it #fix it fic #castiel/dean winchester #dean winchester/castiel #cas/dean #dean/cas #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers #fluff #angst

[ourimpavidheroine]

May I ask why it is you didn't write any homophobia into your fanfic?

You may!

I was born in 1969. When I was a young girl growing up in the 70′s, there was absolutely nothing available to me that referenced anything queer. No books, no media, nothing at all. And by nothing, I mean NOTHING.

Were there queer people in the 1970′s? Oh my yes. But I knew nothing about them because it was just not part of my world. As far as I knew, queer people did not exist.

The first time I learned about queer people was overhearing a conversation when I was about nine or so about my Dad’s co-worker Ernie, a lovely first generation Chinese American man who often came to our house to hang out and who once brought me a beautiful doll from China that had long black hair and a hanfu with lilies all over it. My mother was saying something to my Dad about not wanting Ernie around my younger brother and me because he was gay and my father got pretty pissed off at her about it. I couldn’t understand why Ernie being happy would be such a bad thing, so I asked my Dad later and he explained what that meant. My Dad being the guy he was, he pretty much normalized it for me and I took it at face value.

The summers of 1983 and 1984 I attended acting school in San Francisco and that’s when I learned a lot more about queer people. That was smack dab in the middle of the AIDS epidemic; one of the teachers lost his best friend the night before our class and sat on the floor and sobbed and sobbed about it. It was, you can believe me, a real eye opener.

But you see, this is what the media told me about gay people as a teenager in the 80′s: they all had AIDS and were spreading it to straight people. They were pedophiles. The men were desperate, lonely people or overdramatic bitches that fucked anything that moved. The women were mean and ugly and out to steal other people’s wives or weird hippy pagan ladies that never shaved and smelled. They would all come to a bad end, one way or the other.

My biology/sex ed teacher in 9th grade told us that same-sex crushes were normal for teenagers and that they would go away and didn’t mean we were gay. Oh, I thought. Well then I guess laying awake all night thinking about Annie Lennox in the Sweet Dreams video and that one redheaded girl on the varsity volleyball team is just something I’ll grow out of.

(Spoiler alert: I did not grow out of it.)

I did not think of myself as being queer. For one thing, I still found boys attractive. For another, Mr. Powell told us it was something we’d grow out of. And I wasn’t like any of those women that we started seeing bits and pieces of in the media. So I just didn’t think about it.

I was at university in the late 80′s and early 90′s, studying theater, and then of course I was introduced to plenty of queer people. That was when I realized that yeah, okay, this is not going away. I am attracted to both men and women; I am bisexual. (Pansexual wasn’t something I’d heard of then but it’s how I identify now.)

Were we in the media? Eh...not so much. A glimpse here and there. But again, not much. And when we were in the news? It was Matthew Shephard (oh god, I remember sitting on the floor and hyperventilating when I saw that on the news) or it was Boys Don’t Cry or Will and Grace where Will was played as straight by a straight guy and never had a boyfriend and Jack was played for laughs.

This was not what my life was like.

I did come out to my family in my 20′s when I got a girlfriend; no one liked my girlfriend (god, she was so hot but such bad news; the sex was so so so good but she was so so so rotten, learn from my fail, children) but the fact that I was queer fazed none of them on either side. I come from very liberal stock, however. (Very liberal.) When I divorced my first husband and brought my then Finnish girlfriend around everyone loved her. It was not a traumatic experience for me. It hasn’t been traumatic for me in Finland, for the most part. 

Of course I understand that this is not the norm for everyone coming out. I know people suffer from discrimination; I am next door to Russia, I know what the fuck is going on in Chechnya. Trans people in Finland are still required by law to be sterilized before they can legally transition. Gay marriage only became legal here very recently. I know kids get kicked out by their parents, still get sent to conversion camps. I am aware of the kind of violence transpeople are subjected to.

But this is my point. What are people still seeing on the news? What do they see in media? Homophobia, coming out trauma, violence, rejection, people having to engage in political debate for their right to simply exist. Is it better than it was even ten years ago? Oh yes, it really is. Absolutely it is. Is it good, though? Is it normalized?

Nope. Not yet. And I firmly believe that a huge part of that is because queer media is still being produced by straight people. Many of whom mean well, of course. But it’s not their story. 

I know it can be very important, especially for younger readers, to read stories about coming out, about homophobia. It’s a way for them to process it and I’m not about to sit here and say that’s wrong. It’s not wrong! But there’s a world of difference between a queer person writing their own experiences as a form of processing and a straight person using those experiences as a means of conflict in their stories.

Do I think Bryke had good intentions writing a whole coming out arc for Korra in the comics? Retconning homophobia into their universe? I do. I absolutely do! I think they are very careful and thoughtful about representation. It matters to them.

But the fact remains that Korra’s coming out and the subsequent retcon of homophobia was written by a straight man in order to add conflict/drama to his story. There is no other reason for it to be there; Korra being queer does not require a coming out storyline nor subsequent homophobia. 

Let me repeat this:

Being queer does not require coming out or homophobia. That is something that straight people add to the stories of our lives, both in real life as well as media.

So that’s what I am doing in my fic. I am normalizing queerness. Am I doing it perfectly? Of course not; I’ve been learning to write with my fic, and I’ve made certain choices I would like to go back and change now. But I am making a choice to write the kind of world I think queer people should be living in: I am normalizing us.

My queer characters have negative things happen to them; they are as human as I can make them. They don’t live in a utopia. But the things that happen to them do not happen because of their gender or sexuality. I am not now nor will I ever be killing my gays.

#long post #well this got long-winded didn't it? #more than you asked for probably Anon #but there it is #Anonymous