#god finishing blade and ex aid almost back to back is A TRIP

[rosemirmir]

Finished ex aid today, still have many, many thoughts to simmer and develop the words for but there are some things I can say (Spoilers)

So right off the bat, I think this is Takahashi's strongest writing I've seen. Haven't seen Zero One so I can't judge it, nor can I judge any supplemental material for ex aid that comes afterwards that he wrote.

I enjoy Geats tremendously, but his writing in Ex Aid feels stronger to me in ways I cannot articulate at the moment. (Also Geats is still ongoing, I don't wanna completely compare something that isn't finished yet.) Anyways, this is not the focus here though.

Though If there is one gripe I do have with Ex Aid I can name right now (again, thoughts still simmering) it's that the restart felt a bit contrived? I get how they needed to extend time for the last bit of episodes, but I felt there could have been a different way to go about it.

I really enjoyed this entire cast of characters. Parad especially got me with his arc and developments which I did not see coming. I love when a character smacks me emotionally and grips my heart out of the blue.

I loved Poppy, she is a delight. Kiriya felt tailor made for me. Kuroto is so much and is fun to see because of that. Nico is my daughter. And Hiiro and Taiga... AUGH

The big thing though, and the reason why I'm making this post in the first place:

Is that the ending arc of this show felt... Kinda weird to watch since the pandemic started? I don't even know if weird is the word that best describes what I felt. It just really hits different after 2020, and this ongoing pandemic.

This is not the fault of the show though. Takahashi couldn't see 3-4 years into the future.

That being said though, it is why the ending to Ex Aid hit me so hard. Emu's speech to the press, and his hope and optimism for the future as the world continues to deal with the gamer virus into the future... I needed that.

Man, I really fucking needed that.

Without getting into detail here, the state of things since the pandemic began and continues to go on has broken me in a lot of ways and still continues to devastate me.

So seeing Emu's speech at the end there made me bawl. I think it made me cry more than any other scene in the show. It gave me a bit of some really needed hope.

Emu is a rider i really appreciate. His hope and optimism that he has is just so important to me.

So I can say that Ex Aid will be a very special series in my heart, not only for how the ending affected me positively, but other reasons as well too.

#even though i didnt make a liveblog tag as i watched it ill just start it now #this is a stream of thoughts and i really hope it makes some sense #i dont know where it is in my rankings of what ive seen yet #both because my thoughts are still simmering but also I just suck at making rankings and lists for things #but ex aid is definitely gonna have a special place in my heart #god finishing blade and ex aid almost back to back is A TRIP #linky posts #linky watches ex aid

[sherl-watson-holmes]

Welcome to London (Sherlock x reader) Chapter 6

I start my senior year of high school in less than two weeks, so I don't know how frequently this will be updated, honestly probably not that less frequently, cause soon enough I'll give up and just do this with all my time anyways. Oh god, in one year I'll be going to university myself😬. Okay, so I wasn't originally going for it, but I got the feels, so this chapter contains self-harm, please don't read it if that triggers you or makes you uncomfortable. If you really want to know what happens in this chapter I can fill you in on it. Just please, don't read if it'll upset you, and please, if you ever feel down, talk to someone, me or anyone you feel comfortable with!

My Wattpad: -kavacado- "How about that one?" Sherlock pointed to a nurse right outside your room. "Hmm" you thought for a minute "happily divorced, dating someone since before she ended her marriage, 2 dogs, one kid, but he lives with the ex-husband." You deduced. "Think again (y/n), observe." He urged you. "Ah, two kids, and both girls." You finished happily. You couldn't sleep at night, and Sherlock rarely slept at all, so he stayed up all night with you, teaching you the art of deduction. Just when you were about to point another woman out to Sherlock for him to deduce, your doctor walked in. "Hey doc! You're just in time for me to ask, when can I leave?" You smiled at him. He chuckled before responding "I am pleased to inform you that you can leave tonight." You mock frowned "Aw, doc, am I that bad a patient?" He laughed "Not at all Ms. (l/n), but I'm sure you want to be back home, we will discharge you tonight." He left and you sighed in relief. "I cannot wait to get out of here, by the way, have you seen my mom? I expected my sister to be busy but I figured my mom would come." You asked Sherlock. "She's waiting for you at home, we told her that you'd be out soon, so she decided to wait there for you." He told you as he poured himself some water from the water jug next to you. "She always did hate hospitals." You chuckled. Throughout the day, all of your friends came to visit you and even some old friends from high school came to see you when they heard about what happened. When night came you were discharged and you caught a cab home with Sherlock and Jim. You got home, greeted by your mother who gave you an awkward hug before letting you go up to bed. Your sister fortunately was already asleep so you made your way up to your room with Sherlock's help, while Jim went to sleep in his own room. As he set you down on the bed you hissed in pain. "What happened, where does it hurt?" He began to frantically look you over when you chuckled. "Sherlock I'm fine, it's just my rib, the pain meds are starting to wear off." He took out a pill container from his coat pocket and took out two pills for you. Handing them to you, he said "Take these, I went out and got your prescriptions when you fell asleep for an hour in the afternoon." You popped them in your mouth and took a swig of water from the bottle on your nightstand. "Go to sleep Sherlock, you've been with me the entire time since the accident." You pushed him lightly towards he door. "No way, I want to be here if your pain comes back, you may need to go to the bathroom, or maybe you'll need water, or you might get hungry, or-" You cut him off "Fine, Sherlock, fine, just shut up, will you?" He chuckled before sitting next to you on the bed and making sure you lied down comfortably. "Okay." You giggled at him as he sat rigidly against your headboard. "You can lie down Sher, go to sleep, you're right here, I'll wake you up if I need you." Reluctantly he lied down next to you, still rigid, but you could see him slowly relaxing into your mattress. As soon as you saw him relax completely, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep. It's currently about 4am and I'm on a road trip, so forgive me if the chapter gets shitty from here on, I'm a bit sleep deprived but I want to write. You woke up with Sherlock's arms wrapped around your waist and your legs tangled with his. You smiled up at him when suddenly you realized... you... had... you had drooled on his shirt, his purple shirt! Shit, shit, shit. You slowly slid out of his grasp as you realized that the pain in your side was back. You slowly made your way down to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb anyone, since the pain in your side wasn't too bad yet. You tiptoed into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You expected it to be Sherlock reprimanding you for forgetting to wake him as you turned around, but you were met with your very pissed off looking sister. "Hey sis." You waved at her awkwardly. "Hello (y/n), how're you doing?" She asked you in a cold tone, although you knew she probably didn't care, if you went off of her hostile look. "Um, good, thanks for taking care of my car for me." You started off in the direction of your room as she nodded. You were just about to exit the kitchen when you heard her call after you "So, Are you going to take David back after all of this?" You slowly turned around confused as to why the hell she would even ask that. "No, why the hell would I?" She sighed before answering "(y/n), after all he's done for you-" You cut her off "After all he's done for me? You mean after all he's done to me. He caused this accident, not me. I feel bad for him being in the state that he is , sure, but he put himself there, and me." You were yelling now, loosing your temper. Your sister began yelling now as well "Listen (y/n), I know that you've taken up the big responsibility of being the family disappointment, but please, I'm begging you, for once, do something right. This guy is right for you, I know he cheated, but he's going places, and frankly, you are not. He's a family friend and he wants you back, just do this one thing in your life right goddamnit!" You felt tears well up in your eyes at your sister's harsh words. You knew that she thought this, but hearing her say it was a totally different thing. You turned and ran straight back to your room forgetting the pain in your side, past All of your friends who unknown to you, had heard everything between you and your sister. You went into the bathroom of your room and locked yourself in. You began to sob as you sunk to the floor against the door. You heard Jim outside the door along with the others asking you to come out. You sat still until you heard all of them leave to give you space and then you came out, opening your drawers and rummaging through them to find something you hadn't used since you moved to London. You never needed too, but now all of the feelings of uselessness were flooding back and you continued to rummage through all of your drawers until you finally were able to fish out a little bag containing the blades that had such a big part of your past. You ran into your bathroom and locked the door. You set the bag on the counter and looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked like a mess, tear streaks running down your face, your hair all over the place, and the healing gash on your forehead covered by gauze. Were you really going to do this? Were you going to waste over 3 months of being clean? You almost walked out of the bathroom, but your mind went back to the conversation you just had with your sister and you could no longer stop yourself. You knew you would regret this later when you had time to think or rather stop thinking about your argument with your sister, but you couldn't resist the temporary relief you were about to give yourself. Wiping away the tears constantly and silently now streaming down your face you took a blade out of the bag held it in between you fingers. Sighing, you pushed the tip of the blade onto your skin and ran it across your forearm, watching the blood trickle down. You repeated this twice, four times, five times before a knock on the door startled you. "(Y/n), I brought you your favorite, dark chocolate brownies." You heard Sherlock's voice through the door. You remained silent, hoping he'd give up and go away. "(Y/n), c'mon, open the door, I know I'm the last person to be able to comfort someone, but you can talk to me about this, at least come out of the bathroom." He pleaded. You sobbed, accidentally dropping the blade into the sink, cringing as you heard it clink on the porcelain. "(Y/n), what was that?" Sherlock's voice became more panicked. "(Y/n), if you don't let me in, I'm picking the lock." He yelled sternly. You began to freak out, not knowing how to hide all of this from Sherlock. Realizing there was no way to hide this from him now, you sank to the floor, burying your face in your hands. Sherlock opened the door and quickly sat next to you, gathering you in his arms. After sitting in silence with you for a minute, he got up and left the bathroom. A couple of minutes later you saw him come back in with a first aid kit. Slowly he took your arm stood up, pulling you with him. He ran your arm under the faucet, and began to clean your cuts with antiseptic. After wrapping them up, he led you to the bed and sat you down with him. "(Y/n), it's been months. You were doing so well." He sighed, his head hanging low. Your head snapped to him, eyes widening. "How did you know?" You asked, horrified that he knew all this time. "I always know (y/n), I'm me. I decided not to bring it up, because I could tell that you were happy in London and I didn't want to mess anything up for you." You nodded and he put his arms back around you as you let you head fall to the crook of his neck. You sat like that for what seemed like ages before you heard him say "Do you want to talk about any of it?" "No." "Later?" He continued. "Maybe." "Okay." His hold on you tightened and you two sat at the edge of your bed until you eventually fell asleep from the exhaustion. Sherlock gently lowered your head onto your pillow before kissing your forehead and leaving your room to allow you some much needed rest.

#bbc #sherlock x reader #Sherlock #john Watson #molly hooper #mary morstan #jim moriarty #reader insert #Welcome to London

[pherryt]

Prompt generator suggestion! #69, Supernatural, Destiel pairing, hurt/comfort

So, here you go - a Canon Divergent (End of Season 8, Start of Season 9) Destiel fic with Hurt/ComfortFor everyone else: It is deliberately Canon Divergent because Li hasn't seen past the season 8 finale. So Shhhh....don't tell her how much (or how little) I've changed to fill this prompt :DThere is also a teaser, hidden in here, of something I want to touch on more in a much longer season 8 fix it fic that I hope to be able to get underway sometime. But i need to finish other projects first. Word Count : 1623 (added a read more because it’s long. Hey, i’m getting the hang of this! I didn’t even have to look it up this time :D )

______________________

The sky would have been beautiful…if Dean hadn’t know what the bright, falling streaks of light really were.

Helping a slightly unsteady, but surprisingly alive (thank god!), Sam to the Impala with the newly cured demon’s help (Crowley was eager to make amends in any way he could, and Dean was inclined to let him), Dean couldn’t help but send up a prayer, uncertain if Cas could even hear him.  

Cas, man, tell me you’re all right? Please. You’ve gotta be all right.

Getting everyone settled, Dean turned the keys in the ignition, but continued to stare out the windshield, wincing at every white-blue streak that hit the ground. Sam looked over at him in concern and sympathy. “I’m sure he’s okay. How many times have we thought him dead or gone and he’s always come back?”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded, refusing to look at his brother. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.” Dean got the Impala moving, grateful that Crowley didn’t attempt to reassure him as well. After all, this was all his fault. If hadn’t been digging after the Angel Tablet in the first place, none of this would have happened.

The drive back was silent, heavy. Dean couldn’t even bear the thought of the familiar tunes that normally soothed him. All he could think was that he had to get back to the bunker as fast as possible. Cas would find them there.

If he was okay.

God, if you’re still out there, listening, please let him be okay. Dean knew the prayer would be useless. God hadn’t answered any prayers in who knew how long, but his phone had remained silent, and if Cas could have, he would have called him, called Dean.

With every mile, Dean felt more hope and fear pressing in against him. By the time he pulled the Impala to a stop in front of the bunker, he was filled with dread.  He looked towards the door of the bunker, hoping against hope that he’d see a tan trenchcoat standing before it. A dark head of hair tilted at him.

But he saw nothing and his heart sank.

“Dean,” Sam started, “If they fell, Cas might not have his wings anymore. It might just take him a little longer to get here – “

With a growl, Dean shoved out of the car and slammed the door shut. He hurried away from his well-meaning brother and to the front of the bunker, rounding to the stairs that led to the slightly underground door –

and came to a shocked halt.

There was a tan trenchcoat against the door, but it was slumped to the ground and covered in blood. Dean’s heart stopped and then started again when he saw the slight rise and fall of the body before him. He nearly tripped in his hurry to reach Cas.

“Cas? Cas! Shit, shit, shit! Are you okay?” Dean knew it was a stupid question. Of course Cas wasn’t okay, but he couldn’t help it, his mouth running away from him as he fell to his knees beside the apparently heavily injured Angel and carefully reached out for him. “Fuck, Cas, why the hell are you bleeding? There’s blood everywhere! Why aren’t you healing yourself?” Another stupid question. In his head, Dean already knew the answer.

Cas’s head inched up slightly with a groan and his eyes squinted at Dean. “Dean?” his gravelly voice was broken and low.

Sam reached them then, as Dean ran his hands over Castiel, checking him over. Sam pulled out the key and got the bunker open, the lights turned back on  and gestured Crowley in, before turning to offer Dean his help in getting Cas inside.

Refusing his brothers help, Dean made to help Cas to stand, but the first touch to the Angel’s back made Castiel cry out in pain and Dean recoiled.

Exchanging worried looks, Dean didn’t turn Sam’s help down the second time, and together the managed to get Cas inside, down the stairs and through the bunker to Dean’s room.

Sam had halted in front of one of the other empty rooms but Dean had shook his head. “No, Sam. I’m not taking my eyes off him again.”

Having learned from their first mistake, Dean didn’t bother attempting to lay Cas down on his back, but maneuvered him onto his front, stripping him down to his boxers and wincing at every cut and gash and bruise the Angels skin revealed.

Cas passed out before they even made it to the bed.

“Dean, his injuries – “

“I know, Sam!” Dean cut him off, then covered his face briefly and forced himself to calm down.  “We’ll deal with it later. Just…get me our first aid kit okay?”

“Already on it,” Sam said quietly, slipping out of the open door. Together, the brothers cleaned and stitched and bandaged every wound they found. Cas woke up briefly a few times with a groan or a whimper. Dean hesitantly gave him painkillers, vowing to keep careful watch over his usage, remembering all too well the future that Zachariah had once shown him.

The Angels had fallen. Cas had been working on a spell to close Heaven but obviously he’d been tricked. He must have fallen too. But what did that mean? Did that make them human? Was Cas human now? Was that why he was unable to heal himself?

Sam left Dean alone with Cas, saying something about attempting to calm down a very freaked out Kevin. Dean didn’t even look up as Sam left. He just stared at the Angel in his bed with a heavy heart. Relief that Castiel was here, that he was still alive flushed through Dean, but at what cost? He itched to be closer, but he restrained himself. It was clear Cas was in agony. He didn’t need Dean making it worse.

Instead, he hitched his chair as close as he could get to the bed without falling into it and kept vigil over his best friend, but at some point, he must have fallen asleep. Dean jerked in his chair, nearly falling out of it, woken by a strangled sound beside him. He whipped his head around and down to find Castiel awake and curled in on himself, shaking, tears rolling down his face and his chapped lips suffering even more abuse as the Angel bit them, trying not to make a sound.

With a quick glance at the clock, Dean realized Cas was due for another dose of medicine. “Shit, Cas…” he stumbled to his feet and fumbled for the meds and a bottle of water. “Here, these will help.” Dean held the pills up to his lips, assisting Cas in swallowing them down, holding the bottle for him. Water dribbled down his face and Dean gently wiped it up.

“Dean, I –“ Cas’s voice stuttered and hitched and Dean hurried to reach out a soothing hand to him.

“Sshhhh…Cas, take it easy and try not to move too much, okay man? I don’t know what happened but you’re a mess, especially your back.” Dean swallowed, trying to keep an even and calm tone. The twin gashes going down each shoulder blade were long and deep and nasty looking.

And he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what had caused them.

“Did…did Sam…?” Cas fought to speak and Dean crept closer, his hip hitching up onto the bed, Cas’s hand clutching at Dean’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah, he did it. Gates of Hell closed and he’s alive! I mean, I don’t know how, but he is. Now all we gotta do is get you better, okay?”

“I failed…” Cas whispered, his eyes closing.

“It’s not the end of the world, Cas,” Dean said. “You’re here, you’re safe. We got your back, okay?” Dean straightened up, tried to get up on his feet and let Cas sleep when the Angel pulled at him with surprising strength, a sob ripping out.

“Don’t – don’t go. Dean, please,” Cas choked out around the sob. Dean’s heart ached for everything Cas must be going through, all the pain – both physical and emotional – and against his better judgement, Dean kicked off his boots and slid into the bed beside him, pulling Cas as gently into him as he could, tucking the Angel’s head under his chin.

“I’m here, Cas. I’ll stay, as long as you want me.” Dean murmured the words into Cas’s ears, closing his eyes and running his fingers ever so gently through the Angels – ex-angel, he corrected himself – hair. He hummed a soft song, not even thinking about what he was doing, and increment by increment, Cas relaxed against him, the sobs quieting down and the shuddering slowing.

“Always…always wanted, Dean, always wanted to stay,” the words were so soft, Dean almost hadn’t heard them, wasn’t sure he was meant to hear them. “As long as it was with you. I think…I could truly face anything, as long as it’s with you.”

“Then I’ll never leave you alone, Cas, you got that?” Dean swore. Cas’s fingers tightened where they clutched at Dean and he nodded his head against Dean’s chest, bumping into his chin gently.

They said nothing else, but drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. The days ahead would be hard, Dean knew. But he’d do whatever he could to help Cas heal, and to adjust to being human. 

Dean had almost lost him today. Had lost him more than once and it had been devastating every time. He couldn’t let this chance slip away on him again, the way he had every other time Cas came back like a miracle.

And this time, Dean was determined that he would finally admit he loved Castiel.

#supernatural #writing prompt #destiel #fallen castiel #hurt/comfort #season 8 finale #season 9 start #canon divergent #li-izumi