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lightforthedeadvine · 3 years

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Title: How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

Author: @lightforthedeadvine – Anwamane_13 on AO3

Written for: @localwhiskeylez

Gift Exchange: @destielsecretsanta2020

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 11.905

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

AN: Wow, I can't believe it's done! I really hope you like it, @localwhiskeylez! Sorry for any typos, English is not my first language. Merry Christmas!

How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

How Dean Winchester realizes that the love of his life is his best friend and, being the moron that he is, it only happens after he's already dead.

INTRODUCTION

This article seeks to help the reader to solve unfinished business during their life on Earth. It is an observational interventionist study, based on the author's life. Some angels and demons were injured during the execution of the study, but the fact only serves as a background to illustrate the situations in which the author found himself and are important for the understanding of the facts.

1- When you’re still alive, be emotionally constipated.

Cas dies and Dean can’t get up, can’t look anywhere except at his wings, frail and broken shadows engraved on the ground. This is it. This time Cas’ death is for good. Dean isn’t ready for this, he can’t deal with this, he needs to get up and pretend he’s not there, kneeling on the ground next to his best friend’s body. His mind is empty and too full at the same time.

The thing is, Cas has died before, but Dean had never been left with his body to deal with. It makes his death more real somehow. So, he wraps the body with the old curtains, and he refuses Sam’s help. He doesn’t need anyone right now. They burn Cas, a hunter’s funeral. Dean listens to Sam trying to explain to a confused Jack that it’s time to say goodbye, but he can’t say anything. The flames are high and Dean can’t stop thinking that Cas deserved so much better than this. In the back of his mind there’s something he should have done, something he should have said, some way he could have showed Cas how appreciated he was. But Dean is not sure what it is, and he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to feel anything, or rather, he can’t look at what he’s feeling too closely, or he’ll lose it.

Later, he loses it in booze, he punches the door until his knuckles bleed, he hates everything, he yells at Sam, he wishes he’d had kept Cas’ coat, so he could keep it in the Impala’s trunk, like before. He’s not sad, he’s furious. Stupid angel, getting himself killed like that. Stupid, stupid angel. Sam, the giant girl that he is, wants to talk, but Dean snorts and refuses to acknowledge anything that resembles a chick flick moment.

He doesn’t cry.

2- When someone tells you he loves you, don’t say anything.

“I love you”, Cas says, and he puts his bloodied hand on Dean’s shoulder. He pushes Dean to the floor, and when the Empty comes, Cas has a slight smile on his lips. He looks… in peace, almost. Angelic. And then he’s gone.

Dean thinks “why didn’t he tell me about the deal” and “this can’t be real” and “I need him to come back”. He looks at the wall and there’s nothing there indicating that his friend, the best friend one could ever have, just vanished through it.

Dean’s mind is running so fast he can barely keep up with it. Cas’ ‘I love you’ keeps ringing in his ears, playing in the back of his head, like a broken record. Dean is astonished. He had no idea. He didn’t know. He feels that this ‘I love you’ was very different from the ‘I love you, all of you’ Cas said when Crowley saved him from dying poisoned, with Dean, Sam and Mary not knowing what to do, how to stop Cas‘ death. Dean knows Cas meant a whole different thing this time; he could see it in Cas’ eyes. This time Cas meant the love kind of love. Dean had no idea an angel could even feel this kind of love. But if he knew, would it have changed anything? It’s not as if Dean would say it back, it’s not as if he deserves this love, an angel’s love. For fuck’s sake, it’s ludicrous.

Dean said nothing, he just kept shaking his head no and saying dumb things like ‘what are you talking about’ and ‘don’t do this’. He said nothing meaningful in Cas’ last moments, nothing his best friend could take with him to the Empty to justify the sacrifice he was making. He wonders if Cas thought he didn’t care, but probably not, because the stupid angel has always seen the best in him; something Dean is not even sure it’s there.

Cas said he loved Dean. And Dean didn’t say anything. He has no idea what he could have said, but he should have said something. Anything. Cas gave his life to save Dean’s, and Dean just stood there; just let him go.

His cell phone rings but Dean has no idea how to answer it. He looks at the wall again. He can’t speak right now, he’s not even worthy of speaking right now. Dean puts his hands on his head, cover his eyes, tries to leave the world outside for a while longer. His head, his heart, his whole being hurts.

This time he cries. This time Dean sobs.

3- After losing someone you care about, live the rest of your life pretending you’re ok with it.

Miracle jumps on the bed and Dean holds his dog close for a while, taking comfort from his furry best friend. They grew very attached to each other, and so far, no one has come to claim the dog, so Dean is confident he’ll be able to keep it for good. He gets up, getting ready for another day of Sam making breakfast, going for a run, maybe calling Eileen or Jody and Donna. Dean will walk Miracle, maybe. Watch old reruns, make pancakes, even though Sam will complain one shouldn’t eat breakfast food for lunch, and have a tasteless salad, as always. Dean doesn’t care, Miracle will help him with the stack of pancakes. He still needs to finish filling the job application on his desk, but he’s not in a hurry. He has all the time in the world, right? No one is controlling them now, and Jack sounded like he’d let things run free.

When Sam mentions Jack and Cas, Dean says they should keep on living, because that’s what Jack and Cas would want them to do. The truth is, he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he shoves a huge piece of pie into his mouth. He knows Jack is around, in every drop of rain and every wind, and inside and out of the bunker, like he said… but Dean’s almost sure they’re never gonna see him again, and he misses the kid. As for Cas… Dean has no idea what the Empty’s like, but an eternity of nothing sounds like an endless punishment worse than hell, and once again, he can’t help thinking that Cas deserved better. Before he can think how much he misses his best friend, he decides to focus on anything other than the dull ache inside him every time he thinks of Cas’ sacrifice. Cas died so they could live, and they’re gonna live, dammit.

Sam pushes pie into Dean’s face and hearing his laugh makes Dean think that everything is gonna be alright, eventually. His baby brother’s laugh is one of the things that keeps him going these days. He’s grateful for that. Content, if not happy.

4- A crucial point for doing something after being dead is dying. So… die.

This one is hard to explain.

Dean doesn’t want to die. But as it is, death comes in the most stupid way possible, and he doesn’t want to fight anymore. He’s tired. He doesn’t want Sam to call an ambulance, because it’s not gonna work and he doesn’t want the kid to get his hopes up. The rusty thing inside his lungs hurt like a motherfucker, it’s getting hart to breathe and his mind is fuzzy.

Sammy, he thinks. Sammy’s the most important thing here. Dean needs to tell his little brother how much he loves him, because he knows he hasn’t said it enough. He needs Sam to know he’s always been the most important thing in his life, ever since John put baby Sam in his arms inside a burning house and told Dean to protect him. He needs Sam to know that Dean doesn’t regret being Sam’s mother, father, old brother and friend; he doesn’t regret not having a childhood because he knows, he knows, he gave Sam one; at least the best he could. Dean needs Sam to tell him he’ll be alright; that Dean can go in peace; that Sam will get a life for himself after this.

4.1 - Ignore any mention of your best friend and give only a small smile when being told he’s not in the Empty anymore;

‘Cas helped’, Bobby says. Jack made this incredible Heaven for everyone and Cas helped. Bobby arches one eyebrow when he mentions Cas, and Dean pretends he doesn’t notice. He smiles slightly, comforted by the fact that his friend is not in the Empty anymore. He hoped, no, he knew Jack would set his chosen father free, but somehow, he never asked him. He doesn’t know why. He could say he was in some kind of daze, caused by the shock of everything that had just happened, but… it’s not an excuse; he should have asked Jack about Cas, and he didn’t. Sometimes Dean is really stupid.

4.2 - Spend forty something years driving and waiting for your brother to join you in the afterlife.

Suddenly, Baby is there.

Although time moves different in Heaven, it’s a bit, well, a lot strange that right at the end of the long road, probably the Axis Mundi, Sam is there in the fucking bridge, as if he’d been waiting for Dean. Has Dean just spent forty years driving? Really? What about Mom and Dad? Why didn’t Dean go see them? What about Ellen and Jo, probably right there inside the Roadhouse, where Bobby was… why didn’t Dean get inside? What about Cas? Isn’t it strange that Cas wasn’t there to welcome him to the afterlife? And… Dean didn’t do anything except wait for his brother for four decades? This is surreal.

The happiness he fells when he hears Sam’s voice, though, is indescribable. Somehow, he knows time has passed and Sam had a life, a fucking normal apple pie life, and Dean is so, so grateful his brother got to have that. As for him, he can finally stop worrying about the kid. Sam has always been Dean’s everything, and now it’s as if… his work is done.

“Eileen and I… it didn’t work; she… was traumatized, I guess. Being around a Winchester was more dangerous than any monster,” Sam says when they’re in the car, returning home, wherever the heck ‘home’ is. “And Dean’s mother… she got pregnant; we hadn’t planned anything. She, um… didn’t know I was a hunter, so I kind of… I retired, started working as a paralegal. But we were too different, it didn’t work anyway, and she left when Dean was fifteen.”

“Dude, you named your kid after me?” Dean is all smiles.

“Dean Robert Winchester,” Sam says, proudly. “A great kid. Preferred his ink on his right arm.”

“You didn’t raise him as a hunter, did you?”

“Hell no,” Sam snorts, “but here and there a hunter came looking for advice, and… the kid was smart, figured there was something strange going on. And on his sixteenth birthday a shapeshifter moved to our backyard, so…”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the bunker?” Dean wants to know. If Sam worked in a law firm, what happened to the bunker?

Sam suddenly looks uncomfortable. “I, um… I gave it to Jody, Donna and the girls. They did a great job over the years, built a really big net, organized the branches… Claire and Kaia, they’re, like, top hunters in the country now.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Dude, that’s great, but…”

“I couldn’t do it, Dean,” Sam says in a hurry, earnest. “It wasn’t the same without you. There was no one else. I was alone, and I… I just couldn’t.”

Dean pretends he doesn’t feel a pang in his chest at hearing how bad it was for Sam. But hey, heaven or not, he’s not gonna start a sharing and caring scene with Sam now, right? “What about Miracle?”

“Lived for twelve years more, was Dean’s best friend.”

“Dude, I’m never gonna get used to this. You named your kid after me. Wow, I mean… I know I’m important, but… didn’t know you couldn’t live without a Dean in your life,” Dean jokes.

But Sam is serious. “I really couldn’t.”

“No chick flick moments, Samantha,” Dean tries to lighten the mood, because, shit. He expected Sam to miss him, of course… but not like this.

Sam appears to take the bait. “Jerk.”

Dean laughs. “Bitch.”

5- In Heaven, pretend you’re not looking for your Angel best friend.

Mary and John live not far from the Roadhouse, just like Bobby said. Their house is a replica of the Lawrence house, the one that caught fire. Dean thinks it’s creepy that Mary ends up living in the same house in which she died, but hey, she seems happy. They both do.

“So, dad, how did you get this house? Not that I remember much of it, but me and Dean, we went back there for a case,” Sam asks, eyeing Mary, because well, she was the ghost that lived there. She just smiles quietly at him. “From what I can see, it seems just like the old one.”

John looks different. At peace. The lines on his face seem softer, leaving him with a younger appearance. Mary’s presence did this, Dean can’t help thinking. Having a forever with the love of your life can do this to a person. Not that Dean knows from experience since he’s never had a… never mind. Lisa was never the love of his life, and Dean doesn’t want to think about her; still hurts.

His father’s eyes radiate happiness. It’s a bit strange, in a good way. “We were together in our private heaven,” he tells. “But I confess, it was a little boring, because it never changed. Then they came,” he shrugs, “and everything changed.”

“They?” Dean asks.

Mary smiles. “Mostly, Jack. He came and… we had a serious talk. It was never his fault, how I came here. He was distressed, and I pushed too hard.” She holds John’s hand. “Jack said we shouldn’t be separated from the ones we loved, because there is space for everyone. So he opened all the doors, fixed all the bridges, and suddenly our friends, family… they were all there. We started to build a heaven where we could all live together…”

“And Cas suggested it would be a good idea if we lived in our old house,” John finishes. “He built this for us exactly as we remembered it.”

Dean arches his eyebrows. Cas? Since when is his father on a nickname basis with Cas? “You know him? Cas?” he can’t help asking.

“Of course he knows Cas,” Mary laughs. “he’s Jack’s right arm. Everyone knows him.”

“And where is he?” Dean asks.

Mary shrugs. “Around,” she says enigmatically.

Okay. Dean frowns a little. A guy dies and his best friend doesn’t come to greet him? Then he changes the subject, because really? Not a pleasant thing to think about.

-------

Ellen and Jo are still in the Roadhouse by the time Dean gets back there. Sam stayed behind with their parents. But Dean suddenly needs to see everything and everyone. As if he has already lost too much time. And, maybe he has, driving through the Axis Mundi, waiting for Sam. But hey, now he has all of eternity, right?

“So, how does it work? This heaven?” he asks, while Ellen pours him a one more shot of Johnny Walker.

“We just… live. We do what we want and see who we want. When Cas built this place for us, ‘cause I said I preferred to work; you know me, I’m no woman to sit still… anyways, he said that the things we’ve always wanted to do, but it was never the right time…”

“Or…” Jo smiles, standing beside her mother, “we were always busy killing the next monster… well, these things, we could do them all now, you know? And… it’s freeing, really.”

“Cas built this place” Dean repeats like a parrot, not really paying attention to what they’re saying. “You mean my friend, Cas.”

Ellen raises her eyebrows. “Do you know any other Cas?”

“Nope.”

It’s annoying, really. Cas built the Roadhouse for Ellen and Jo? That’s great, they more than deserve it, but… he didn’t take the time to see Dean when he arrived?

------

Things are starting to get ridiculous.

Dean has visited and met a lot of people since he arrived. And apparently, since Jack decided to rebuild heaven, Cas has:

a) Built a house for Bobby and Karen, and the woman was delighted by his manners. Such a handsome and polite ‘boy’.

b) Found Charlie’s mother, Gertrude Middleton, they had a teary and wonderful reunion and now they live together by the mountains, where the internet (in Heaven? Huh…) is better than any other place on Earth.

c) Rescued Kevin from ghost-life. The boy spends his days playing cello and going on dates with Channing. Linda Tran is around too.

d) Eileen died on a hunt a few years after Dean. Cas found her parents and she finally found her happy ever after with them.

e) Gave back Pamela’s eyes, and the psychic went traveling around the heaven-world, eager to seeeverything.

So, it’s Cas this, Cas that, blah blah blah. Dean is getting annoyed.

Oh! On top of that, Kelly Kline apparently sees him a lot. In fact, she sees him more than she sees her own son, since Jack is always busy being the almighty and all. How does Dean know? He finds Kelly by chance while walking around, and as soon as she greets him, she asks “Have you seen Castiel yet?” with a knowing smile. He hasn’t, of course. And then she wastes no time telling him how wonderful Cas is for helping Jack with the heaven thing, since her son is young and has a lot to do. Apparently, Cas and Kelly spend a lot of time together, talking. Dean changes the subject and leaves as soon as he can. He is not jealous, of course. Of course not.

Dean is not only annoyed now. He’s a little hurt. As if his friendship didn’t really mean anything for the angel. Part of him thinks it’s stupid, because Cas loves him, he said so, didn’t he? But his absence is telling. Somehow, Dean knows Cas doesn’t want to see him. He just knows.

6- When you see him, try to talk about the elephant in the room, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.

It’s a bit strange, this heaven Jack has created. Because now time seems linear, and Dean has no idea how this happened, since it went by so fast before Sam arrived. But now there are days and nights and an endless string of people Dean wants to see and spend time with. So much, that he has no idea where he’s supposed to live, but he doesn’t ask anyone. He sleeps at his parent’s house, or Charlie’s place, or at Bobby’s. It’s a wonder he sleeps at all, because he really doesn’t need it; he’s dead, they all are. But they eat and drink and sleep, and they have long, long talks, like a never-ending party with all the burgers, pies and beer Dean could ever want.

It’s great.

Also, it feels a little bit… empty.

So, Christmas comes. Apparently, this is a special time in heaven too. There’s a party at the park and Dean finds himself in charge of the cheeseburgers. He’s there, by the grill, flipping the patties and making sure they don’t burn. Then Dean sees him.

He’s standing by the lake. Different clothes, the dark jeans and blue t-shirt look so unusual for him, but Dean would recognize that head of dark hair anywhere. Cas is not looking at him, he’s talking to a couple, an open smile on his face, so different from the burdened expression he always wore. Dean forgets about the grill and everything else. He just walks towards him, his heart thundering in his chest and a million questions in his head.

“Cas!” he calls before he reaches him, arms opening to hug him, and Cas turn his head, his very blue eyes wide and …

Oh.

There’s no immediate recognition in those eyes.

It’s not Cas. It’s Jimmy Novak.

Dean’s arms fall. “Jimmy,” he says, just to make sure. He deflates like an empty balloon.

“You’re… Dean, right?” Jimmy says, and shit, Dean should have never had mistaken him with Cas. His eyes are exactly the same, but Cas’ eyes sparkle when they look at Dean, and Jimmy’s just… don’t. And the voice, there’s no way this… generic, normal voice could ever belong to Cas. Even his relaxed posture is completely different than Cas’.

“Yeah. Dean Winchester,” he says, because now he has to make small talk with the guy, and he really, really doesn’t want to. His chest gives a funny pang looking at him, and Dean thinks of Claire, for the first time really understanding what she went through whenever she looked at Cas and thought of her father. Dean is looking at one, wanting to see the other, because they look the same but they’re so, so different, and it’s just...disappointing doesn’t even get close.

“It’s good to see you, Dean,” Jimmy says solemnly. “Is your brother well?”

“Yeah, he’s… around.” Dean says, looking around, already knowing he won’t find Sam here, because his brother found Bobby’s library and, the big nerd he is, he must be reading somewhere, even though they don’t hunt anymore. “But there’s so much lore here, Dean!” he’s said, eyes sparkling.

“That’s great,” Jimmy says, and then he frowns a little. “Where’s Castiel?”

“How the hell will I know?” Dean lets out, the he looks at Jimmy apologetically. “Haven’t seen him.”

Now Jimmy looks a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. It’s just that – that Castiel was always thinking about you when we were sharing my – my -” he gestures at himself.

They’re both saved by a burning smell.

“The burgers are burning, you idjit!” Bobby screams from somewhere, and Dean just looks at Jimmy, gives him a yellow half-smile and leaves, relieved. He never loved the smell of burning burgers so much.

----

It’s late, everyone has gone home. Dean doesn’t have a home to go to, and he really doesn’t care about it right now. He’d be there alone, anyway. He has no idea how much time has passed since he came here, and it’s a bit disorienting. He’s sitting by the pond, where he saw Jimmy earlier. He’d be drinking right now, if he thought it would help him forget. Can you get drunk when you’re dead?

He’s not an ungrateful bastard. He knows he’s in heaven, and it’s – it’s just great, something he’d never thought he’d have. And wow, his family and dearest friends are here with him, and things couldn’t be better. He’s grateful for everything, and if Jack were here, he’d hug the hell out of the kid. Um… deity. Almighty. Whatever. Still, he’s one third Dean’s son, so he’ll call him kid if he wants to.

The thing is, somehow, he wants more. More than eternal happiness, and he feels a bastard for not being satisfied with eternal bliss. But he misses having something to worry about. He misses the bunker. Shit, he even misses hunting, even though thinking about his last hunt gives him chills. But most of all, he misses having Sam, Jack and Cas by his side, the four of them against the world. He misses Cas’ eyerolls, his deadpan lines, his lack of notion about personal space. His hand on Dean’s shoulder, eyes solemn, glistening –

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Before he knows it, Dean is half-keeling on the grass. “Cas, buddy, you got your ears on?” he prays, like he did so many times before. “I – I hope you can hear me, that you’re alright, that you’re happy now that you’re back home.” He sighs. He has no idea what to say. “I never thought I’d get a chance to pray to you again, but here I am.” Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to go on. “I miss you, man. And – and I know you’re avoiding me… I mean, I know I was a dick to you for so long that maybe – maybe you don’t wanna see me? You could… at least come and say goodbye, you know? I hear you see and help everyone and you never, never come to see me. And I have no idea why.”

A bark makes him look around, and suddenly a light brown, furry dog jumps on his arms. He half-falls sitting on the grass while he hugs his companion from long ago. “Miracle!” he greets the dog, and his heart feels lighter already just for seeing him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns his head so fast his neck hurts a little. “Cas,” he breathes. “You’re here.”

“Yes, um…” Cas gestures at Miracle. “I found your dog.” He’s dressed as always, white shirt, black suit, tan trench coat, tie askew. He looks awesome. He’s a few steps away, and he doesn’t come closer. The smile he gives Dean doesn’t exactly reaches his eyes; not that Cas smiled a lot. But he’s looking at Miracle now, like he’s avoiding looking at Dean. ”I hope all is well with you…?” he says lamely.

“All is – “ Dean sputters, disbelieving. “That’s what you have to say?” he closes the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters from Cas. “Where the hell have you been? I arrived here ages ago, and you haven’t come to see me.”

“Bobby was here to greet you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Bobby, Mom, Dad, Charlie, Jo, Ellen… even Jimmy freakin’ Novak. Everyone except you.”

Cas opens his mouth and starts to shrug, then aborts the movement, still looking at Miracle, perched on a log. “You don’t need me, Dean. You already have all you wanted. I made sure you have everything you could possibly want; everyone you love is here. Why should I come?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean’s not sure he should be swearing in heaven, but hey, he was brought here like this, so they’ll just have to deal with him this way. “Because we’re friends, asshole!” he says, exasperated. Then, quieter, “because I missed you.”

“It’s not of import, you’re with your loved ones now.” Cas says, awkwardly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, and – “

“Stop it, Cas,” Dean says, frowning. This is not how he expected their reunion to be. “What’re you talking about? I missed you man, every minute of every day, and – “

Cas finally looks at Dean, and he looks so sad Dean almost pinches himself to make sure he’s awake. “Jack had just rescued me from the Empty and he asked if I wanted to see you, and – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you were brought back and you didn’t come to us?”

“I saw you, Dean. You were happy. Eating pie, laughing with Sam. And I decided to step aside and just let you have the life you deserve. You and your brother together, like it was before heaven and hell came into your lives.”

Dean throws his hands in the air. “You’re an idiot, Cas, come on! Is that why you never came?”

Cas shrugs. “I know we angels gave you a lot of sorrow, and you have no idea how much I regret everything my brethren and my father put you through.”

Dean huffs a breath. “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I was one more pawn in the game at first ,but I became the one closest to you. And every time I tried to do something right, I just brought you more grief,” Cas rambles on, “and if I had just stayed away, maybe things would’ve been easier. All the mistakes I’ve done… all the times I let you down…”

“That’s bullshit, Cas. What the fuck are you talking about? Since when I, we, didn’t want your company?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, I didn’t want to burden you anymore. I thought that… it was better that I stayed gone, and…eventually you and Sam would be alright.

“Oh, that’s so like you, Cas! Deciding things about my so-called wellbeing without telling me! Is this how you show you love me? Staying away?”

Dean’s eyes widen. Where the fuck did that come from? What the hell happened to his tongue?

Cas’ breath hitches and he looks at the ground, and even in the dark Dean can see his cheeks turning pink. Such a human thing…

“Dean,” Cas says, and shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Dean knows what this is about. He feels guilty already, because the last time they saw each other, Cas spilled his heart on the damn floor and Dean just stayed there, looking. “Don’t what, Cas?” he asks softly.

“You don’t have to say anything about… that. I said my piece, I… I spoke my truth. That truth still stands, it will always stand. Part of the reason I said it was because I thought… that I wasn’t coming back. But here I am, and here you are and, and I know how you feel. Rather, I know how you don’t feel. So, you don’t have to say anything, or do anything. It’s okay. Only… it may take some time before I fell less… mortified in your presence.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas has practically just said that the – the love thing was true. Is true. Well, Dean was the one that started this particular subject, the asshole that he is.

“Cas…” he knows he needs to say something, even if it’s not what Cas maybe would like him to say. “I had no idea you even could feel like that. I’m not, I’m - “

“If you’re going to say you’re not worth it, don’t bother. I stand by what I said, and every word is true. You’re the best human being I have ever known, and I’d like that you at least give me the courtesy of believing in my words.”

Dean is speechless. Once more, Cas is spilling his guts and Dean is silent. He’d kick himself in the ribs if he could. His courage had dropped to the floor somewhere, but he finds it. “Was it my silence that made you leave? That made you do that? ‘Cause if it was, it’s on my top five worst mistakes.”

“It was to save your life. I couldn’t let Billie take you.”

“So you made me watch the Empty take you instead,” Dean deadpans.

“I had to. It was that or letting you die, and I couldn’t let her hurt you and do nothing. I’m expendable, Dean. Always have been. In heaven, on earth. But in that moment, I mattered.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean shakes his head. “You’ve always mattered to me. And coming here and not seeing you? Knowing you were around the whole time? It was a shitty move, Cas.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but he suddenly stops. He closes his eyes and frowns, as if hearing something. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he says. “I have to go.”

“What, now?”

“Yes.”

Cas was never a specialist at Goodbyes. Curiously, Goodbye was the last thing he said before he died.

There’s a bright light, a white-blue bright thing that starts on Cas’ eyes and grows, grows until all Dean can see is light. Cas is not there anymore, but there’s a huge beam floating against the night sky. Dean can see the tips of two huge, white wings coming out of the white-blue light. The words “multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent” comes to his mind and he knows that he’s looking at Cas’ true form. Even though it’s probably wise not to look directly at it, Dean can’t turn away and, well, maybe one of the perks of being dead is that he can look all he wants and his eyes are still working. Cas is awesome.

Now Dean is truly speechless. He’s never seen something so wonderful in all his life/death. In awe, he sees Cas going higher and higher, and he murmurs, more to himself, “Don’t take too long to come back, Cas.”

“I won’t,” he kind of knows, halfway between his head and his chest. What he really hears is a high-pitched sound that he knows it’s Cas’ true voice, but now his ears don’t bleed and he can understand what he’s saying. Wow.

The last thing he wonders before Cas goes up so fast that he looks like a comet, disappearing in the starry sky, is how can someone so fucking amazing like that can have such a low opinion of himself.

7- Pretend you’re ok with the fact that you never see him anymore. Eavesdrop every conversation to try to get a clue of his whereabouts.

“There’s some kind of rebellion up north,” Jack says. “Castiel was called to help with it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Sam asks.

They’re in the bunker, of all things. Cas hasn’t come back, but here and there he comes to see Dean in his dreams, and at first Dean thought it was a regular dream, until Cas told him that the bunker was ready, and if he wanted to move there, he could.

And there was a freaking awesome replica of the bunker up the hill; the only home Dean ever remembers besides Baby, minus the dungeons and the endless corridors. But the important parts are there: the war room, the kitchen, bedrooms, library, garage, Dean’s cave. Sam decided to live there with him, and it’s been a week – or is it a month? Hard to keep track of things here – when Jack finally came to visit. He asked for a homemade burger, of all things, Dean’s homemade burger, and before he started, Dean was going to ask him if he wanted chili sauce with it. So, he isn’t eavesdropping, he’s not a gossip kind of guy. But Jack and Sam are talking in the war room, and when he hears Cas’ name, Dean stops before they can see him.

“Because the rebellion is about me, partly, Castiel thinks it’s not wise that I go. I trust his judgement.” Jack says. “Some angels think I’m too young to rule the universe.”

“You are pretty young,” Sam snorts.

“Well, there’s the fact that some of them still resent Castiel because of his past actions. It’s hard to forget he said yes to the devil, and I’m afraid an angel’s memory is endless. Theirs certainly is.”

“He did that so I didn’t have to,” Sam says, regret in his voice.

“Of course he did.” Jack’s voice is laced with amusement. “Everything Castiel did since he rescued Dean from hell was to protect him; then you two; and, in the end, me too. He’s the most human angel I’ve ever known; he has a heart. That’s why my mother chose him to protect me.”

“He wasn’t always like this.”

“Oh, I know, he was a dick, Dean told me. Like all the other angels here. I’m trying to teach them how to think for themselves, but it takes time. And every time a group decides I’m too young to rule, or Castiel is still unreliable, or both, he goes there and tries to convince them to come back.”

There’s silence for a while, and Dean is caught between wanting to step inside or waiting to hear more about Cas.

“I suppose I should be glad,” Jack goes on. “If they decide to go against us, it means they’re starting to understand free will. If Castiel changed, so can they. Although, he’s always had an incentive, which they lack. Anyway, Castiel is good at convincing them; even if he’s my father, he wouldn’t be my commander if he wasn’t a good strategist.”

“Nepotism, huh?”

“Not at all. I offered to turn him into an archangel, since there’s no one left… but he insisted he wanted to remain a seraph. He’s very down to earth, so to speak.”

“Will he be alright?” There’s worry in Sam’s voice. “Won’t they get… I don’t know... violent?”

“Oh, don’t worry. He can handle them. Besides, if they kill him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“What the fuck?” Dean almost yells, finally going inside. “You’re just gonna let him die? What the fuck, Jack? Dying hurts!”

“So, you were eavesdropping, Dean,” Jack laughs. “and yes, I want chili sauce in my burger.”

“You knew I was here?” Dean knows his face must be comically red now, but he doesn’t care.

“I know everything,” Jack simply says, “and Bobby Singer was teaching me about pranks and sarcasm the other day, so I decided to do a little test.”

“With me,” Dean deadpans.

“Yup!” Then Jack says, more serious. “He won’t die here, Dean. I have his back.”

-----

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Jack comes to the kitchen when Dean’s doing the dishes, after dinner. Sam is… somewhere under a pile of books, probably.

Dean just shrugs.

“I know you worry about him,” Jack continues, “I worry too. But Castiel is very, very old. And wise. He may not have always known what he was doing in the past, but he knows now. He’s in his element. You should see him in battle,” there’s pride on Jack’s voice. “he’s spectacular.”

Dean thinks of Cas’ true form and the way he gives every bit of his focus in a fight, and well, he has to agree with Jack, Cas fighting in heaven must be something to behold.

“He went furious when he knew you were going to die; he spent ages complaining about how you were supposed to have a long and happy life. And then he built this part of heaven for you himself. But… dying young was always in the cards for you, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dean shrugs again. “I’m happy now. And I didn’t want to have gray hair anyway. Been there, done that, didn’t like it.”

“Are you, really?” Jack asks. “Happy?” He looks genuinely worried, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“If you know everything, smartass, why do you ask?” Since Jack knew about the chili sauce before Dean said anything, it stands to reason that he knows every freaking thing inside Dean’s head, right? “And stop reading my thoughts.”

“So, stop projecting them everywhere,” Jack arches one eyebrow. “You make it really difficult not to listen. And when I ask if you’re happy, it’s not because I want to know. It’s because I want you to know. There’s a lot of things you already know but you don’t realize. Not yet.”

“Like what?” Dean is getting annoyed by this enigmatic version of the kid.

“Oh, you’ll get there,” Jack pats his shoulder solemnly. “You’ll get there. Now, how about getting a job, so you and Sam don’t get too bored?”

-----

The job Jack found them was as “newcomers’ advisors”. Apparently not everyone is okay with dying. Hunters are particularly difficult to come to terms with the idea. So Dean, Sam, Eileen and Bobby help them getting used to it.

Mostly, they talk. They show them the neighborhood, explain how heaven works. Help building their houses, finding their loved ones, keeping track of family that’s still on Earth, things like that. It’s something to do, and Dean’s glad to have this to fill his days. Like Ellen said, he’s a hunter; he can’t stay home and do nothing but an endless string of family and friends’ reunions. The boredom would kill him if he wasn’t already dead.

It’s a good thing Jack has been doing here. Heaven residents are organized in teams and they have work to do. If they want to, of course. No one is obligated to do anything they don’t want to. But there’s still a lot to build in heaven, it’s a huge place after all, so there’s work for everyone. People who’s been dead the longest and lived isolated in the eternal loop of their private heavens, have a little more difficulty adapting to changes; but they have literally all the time in the world. Feeling useful does wonders for Dean. Life goes on as it should. Well, not life, per se, but still a good one.

Cas never comes. He keeps appearing in Dean’s dreams here and there, and they talk about nothing and everything, like they always did. Sometimes, he watches Dean fishing, standing on the pier by his side; other times they just drink beer and talk side by side inside the Impala. Dean misses seeing him in person, though. He can’t exactly feel when Cas touches his shoulder, or when he pats his back. Well, he can, but it’s a muffled sensation somehow, the ghost of a touch.

And it’s not enough.

8- When confronted with the fact that he’s more BAMF that you had realized, pretend you’re neither impressed nor slightly turned on.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says one evening, when he is in Dean’s cave watching Doctor Sexy reruns.

Dean raises his head to look at him and – Whoa!

Cas is in a golden armor, holding a huge sword, expression solemn. He… glows. Like, there are little sparks of light floating around him. And his wings… wow. Huge, beautiful black wings, making him officially the most amazing creature Dean has ever seen.

“Cas!” he says dumbly, and he can’t stop staring. He has the vague notion that he needs to close his mouth, but he’s in too much of an awe to do it.

“I need your help,” is all Cas says, and he puts his hand on Dean’s arm and –

They’re outside, in the bunker’s rooftop, which is an awesome place to be, because Cas built it on a hill, the sky seems so close and you can see the lights of people’s houses down below. It’s almost as if you’re suspended between heaven and Earth.

“You alright?” Dean asks when Cas winces a bit after they land.

“Just a minor scratch.”

“Lemme take a look,” Dean says, his hands already on Cas’ shoulders, looking for a way to take the armor off him.”

“We don’t have time. We need to go to hell.”

Dean blinks. “Come again?”

“Rowena, she sent me a message. Apparently, the rogue group of angels that didn’t want to follow Jack, joined with a group of her demons who were showing… discontentment with her leadership. They’re wreaking havoc down there and Rowena’s having a hard time controlling everything.”

“So heaven will help hell. Huh.”

Cas shakes his head no. “Not heaven. Just me. No other angel would follow me down there. But, as you see, I’m a bit hurt and I can’t go on my own. I was thinking that maybe you and Sam could help me.”

“What about Jack?”

“I can’t contact him now. He’s in the Empty again.”

“Why???”

“We need archangels, Dean. Heaven is too big, and we need someone with power enough to contain everything while others rebuild. I – I can’t do everything alone, and… we need someone with more power, who’s not Jack, in case he needs to be away for a while. And I – I don’t want more power. We already know how I acted when I had more power than I could deal with. More pride than compassion.”

“Come on, Cas, that wasn’t you,” Dean reasons.

Cas gives him a curt and serious nod, like he’s saying, “I don’t agree and I don’t want to go on with this subject.” But what he says is “Jack went there to try to find and rescue Gabriel. He won’t be back anytime soon. Will you help me?”

------

Of course Dean will help him. And so will Sam, Eileen, Bobby, Mary, John, Rufus, Ellen, Jo. Some of them are a bit worried about going to that place – well, it’s hell. But they don’t shy off a good fight, and most were already missing their old hunter’s life, with the absolute lack of things that go bump in the quiet nights around here.

9 - Here is the part where you have an epiphany and see that, even dead, you’re still emotionally constipated, and you fell in love with him.

“Cas, wake up. Please.”

Dean holds Cas’ head between his hands, but the angel’s eyes remain closed. He doesn’t need to breathe, so there’s no way for Dean to be sure he’s alive. Rowena said he is, but still, the lack of movement in unnerving.

“You sure you can’t help him?” he practically roars at her. “Isn’t there anything you can do? What kind of witch are you?”

“The dead kind, dear,” Rowena answers drily. “I still have my powers, but they obviously don’t work here.” She looks around. “I’m amazed I was even allowed to enter this place. It’s… a little on the ordinary side.”

Since there was no one with enough power to open a portal for them, they lay siege in hell the old, fashioned way. Cas knew a backdoor, but it was, of course, guarded. Half the group came in from the front and the other half from behind. A few more hunters, recruited at the last minute, formed a group of twenty something people. Cas, the badass he was, came in from above, breaking everything on his way (“Just as I did when I rescued you, Dean,” he said).

Of course, things went wrong. Of course. None of the hunters died, because first: they were already dead and, second: every single one of them had killed demons before.

The angels were a whole different thing. Sam and Dean went straight for them, no time to waste. Despite their experience in dealing with them, these ones were more than dicks: they were angry dicks. “Winchester,” one of them snarled, as if it was an insult, and their attack was fierce and fast. But Sam and Dean knew a lot of fighting tactics and, little by little, they made their way towards the throne room.

Rowena was nowhere to be seen, but behind a huge, closed metal door, Dean heard her yelling “Take your angel hands off me!”

After a while, the group of hunters dealing with the - now dead - demons joined them and, together, they start getting rid of the angels. Dean didn’t know the repercussions of killing an angel in hell, and frankly, he didn’t care. It was hard to believe the dicks were together with the demons in a plan to restart, once more, the freaking apocalypse. Again. One more time. But it was true, Cas had told then on their way here. Besides being dicks, they had no imagination. Getting rid of them was long overdue.

Sam kicks the metal door when they hear a whooshing sound.

Inside, Cas has Rowena in his arms. Around them, several dead angels. She looks a little dizzy, her head on his shoulder. He looks a little winded, and he gasps “We need to leave,” before disappearing in a beam of light. Dean and the others need to go back the way they did: going up seven levels of steep stairs.

When they arrive back in heaven, Dean has no idea where Cas and Rowena went, but on a hunch, he goes to the bunker. Rowena is sitting at the war room, elbows on the table, red hair in disarray, head in hands. She looks shaken.

“Cas?” is all Dean asks.

“In your room,” she answers.

So, here they are. Cas is on Dean’s bed, still in his armor. Dean has no idea how to remove it, and he’s afraid to move him.

“One of the angels had a blade near my throat,” Rowena’s voice trembles slightly. “Castiel started to talk to him, trying to convince him to let me go. The other came from behind and he didn’t duck in time.” She opens her hand and shows them an angel blade, dirty with something slimy, silvery and shiny, almost like mercury.

Angel blood. Cas’ real blood.

“It didn’t go all the way in,” Rowena says. “I think he collapsed as soon as we got here. When I came to myself, we were on the floor. I helped him get to your room. He closed his eyes and…” she trails off.

Dean nods slightly. “Cas…?” he tries again. But Cas is still like a marble statue. All Dean can think of is that Cas was already hurt when they went to hell, and on top of that he was stabbed, and now he – he shakes his head to send the dark thoughts away. Cas can’t die here, can he? Dean has just killed a couple of angels a few hours ago, but they were in hell. Do angels die in heaven?

“Dean?”

Jack’s voice is like music to Dean’s ears. The young man stops by the door, all wide eyes. He approaches them slowly, staring at Cas. When he gets close, he puts a hand on Cas’ chest and closes his eyes. For a few seconds they just stay there, completely still, as if suspended in time, but Dean’s heart is aching inside his chest, so he knows this isn’t a nightmare.

“There,” Jack says. “I closed all the wounds.”

“All the wounds?” Dean asks, dumbfounded. “As in, a lot?”

“Too many,” Jack answers. “Angels fight aiming to kill, never to just hurt. But he’s going to be alright now.”

“He’s still not waking up.”

“The damage was in his true form, no less. He needs some time to recover, to replenish his grace. He’ll wake up, Dean. He’ll be alright.”

Dean can’t hold an angry huff. “Stupid angel. He had to go and help Rowena and put himself in danger like that.”

Jack shrugs. “He always felt at least partially responsible for what happened to her. After I brought him here, they kept in touch.”

“So like Cas,” Dean shakes his head. “The idiot’s born in heaven, a badass commander, but he has to go and make friends with the sorry ass humans, he rebels, falls, sacrifices himself a handful of times… befriends a witch queen of hell, almost dies – again – in a mission to save her because he feels he owes her something.” “And who told him he was responsible for her death, asshole?” his mind offers.

“You know Castiel. Always happy to bleed for someone.”

“Jack, get out of my head!” Dean snaps.

Jack raises his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you were thinking of Cas saying he was ‘always happy to bleed for the Winchesters’. Your thoughts are all over the place, very loud, I should add. If you don’t control them, they just fly to my head. For example, right now, you’re thinking I’m an asshole, and also wondering what you’ll do for the rest of eternity if Castiel dies.”

“Fuck, Jack, come on!”

Jack blinks and suddenly Cas’ armor is gone. He’s in his old attire – suit, tie, trench coat. Then he puts a hand on Dean’s arm and squeezes a little, forcing him to raise his head and look at him.

“Castiel will wake up. I promise. But the thing is, you shouldn’t be worrying about what you’re going to do if he dies. Rather, what you’re going to do if he lives. He’s here, Dean, and so are you. What are you going to do with it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“And that,” Jack gets up and looks at Dean sadly, “Is why Castiel’s greatest joy so far was just in the saying, not in the having. You’ve wondered why he thinks so little of himself… but have you ever given him any reason to think otherwise, Dean?”

Jack just disappears in the air, one moment here, the other gone.

Dean feels like he’s just been punched.

-----

A day and a night come and go, and still Cas sleeps. Dean never leaves his side. Sam comes, offers him soup, then beef jerky, then a beer. Dean refuses everything. It’s not as if he needs to eat.

“Dean – “ Sam starts.

“Not now, Sammy,” Dean closes his eyes. “I know you’re worried, and I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Jack said… um… that I should leave you alone, that you have a lot of thinking to do. So, if you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

Dean just nods and Sam goes.

The room is dark except for a bedside lamp, projecting shadows on Cas’ face. Looking at him, Dean shakes his head again. Stupid angel. Beautiful, beautiful creature that came into Dean’s life more than twelve years ago and saved him so, so many times. Someone Dean can count on. Someone he can’t live without.

Wait.

He can’t live without Cas. Even if he’s technically dead, spending heaven-life without him is something Dean can’t conceive.

Shit.

Suddenly, everything is so clear that Dean doesn’t understand how he could be so dense. All this time, and his stupidity let him spend his life thinking he was unworthy of love, when in fact… he was loved by the most awesome person that ever existed. And he loves this person back just as much.

He does, doesn’t he? He has always – shit, he has always loved Cas back, and why the fuck did his stupid brain not get to this conclusion before?

Yep. It’s official. He’s a moron.

Jack knew, of course. That’s what he meant when he said Dean had a lot to think about. Even Sam, he probably knew too, judging from the faces he made whenever Dean and Cas started one of the many bickering sessions they had. Or one of the staring contests. Meg, Crowley, all the times they, and so many others, implied there was something between Dean and Cas, and Dean thought they were just trying to piss him off.

He spends a long time thinking, not realizing he has one of Cas’ hands between his. It’s like a twelve-year film is passing inside Dean’s head. Long stares, small touches, soft and private smiles, stupid choices, sacrifices… it was all there for anyone to see, but Dean was blind, how could he be so blind? Cas’ love for Dean was written in everything he did since forever.

Dean, on the other hand… looking back he can see, clear as day, the many, many times he was a dick to Cas. He never gave him a reason to stay, then complained because he left, even if he never stopped him from leaving. He never let Cas feel appreciated. He hardly ever thanked the guy for saving his ass. He doubted him; he blamed him; he kicked him out of the bunker when Cas was human and vulnerable. He doesn’t deserve Cas’ love. Cas could do better.

But the thing is… he has Cas’ love, and what he’s going to do about it? Because, on the other hand, Dean can also see the trench coat that spent ages in the Impala’s trunk. He can see his bloody hand punching a door when Cas was dead. He can see himself spending almost a year looking for Cas in Purgatory, and refusing to leave without him. So many, so many small things that he always labeled as friendship, but now is so, so clear it was... so much more.

“Cas,” he closes his eyes. “Hear me. Please.” He’s praying, taking a leap of faith here, and he hopes it will work. “You need to wake up. See, I have something to tell you, but you need to be awake for that, ‘cause it’s very important and… it can change everything. I need you, so please, please – “

“Hello, Dean.”

10- Tell him how you feel. Live/die happily ever after.

They’re on the bunker’s rooftop again. It’s becoming Dean’s favorite place.

Rowena has gone back to hell, once her lackeys got rid of all the bodies. Jack went back to the Empty, they’re negotiating Gabriel’s release. Sam, as soon as Cas woke up, remembered he needed to visit Mary and John asap.

So, Dean and Cas are alone.

They’re sitting on the rooftop, feet dangling, and Dean has a beer in his hands, more to have something to hold and ground him than for drinking.

“Cas, “ he starts. But he has no idea what he’s going to say. Rather, he has, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’ profile, illuminated only by the moonlight, almost shines. Everything about him seems to shine, like he’s so beautiful and perfect inside that the light can’t help but spill to the outside. Technically, he knows that’s Jimmy’s face. But it’s so different from Jimmy’s. The hair in disarray, the so very blue eyes with a hint of silver, the perpetual frowny face… and the guttural voice. Traits that make Cas unique, traits that no one else has. For Dean, Jimmy’s face is ordinary. Cas’ face, he can’t get out of his head. Now that he knows.

“You said you had something to tell me,” Cas says. He’s not looking at Dean, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice, almost as if he’s afraid to know what Dean has to say.

Dean clears his throat. Here goes nothing. “When you died… the last time you died,” he starts.

“Dean, please,” Cas almost begs. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What if I want to talk about this?” Dean blurts out.

Cas cocks his head to the side. “Dean?”

“It made me think, Cas. What you said, it made me think. But… I didn’t want to think. Because… it hurt. It hurt so much that I put a lot of stuff on top of it, shoved a lot of things under the rug so I didn’t have to see what I’d wasted.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bear with me. You will.”

Cas only nods, but his eyes are a little anxious, a little wide.

“Then the freakin’ metal bar came. I didn’t want to die, you have to believe me. But – bit I didn’t want to live like that either. And I didn’t see a way to change. I was looking for a job, already knowing how it’d be. The empty feeling inside me, just like when I was with Lisa and Ben; I had an apple pie life, I had a family, a job… and inside me there was this void they couldn’t fill.”

“I thought you were happy,” Cas murmurs.

“Yeah, sometimes I’m good at pretending. But listen to me, I’m not finished yet.”

“Okay.”

“So, when the metal bar went straight to my lung, I knew that the little time I had to live… I didn’t want to waste it in a hospital, I needed Sam to know that he was my everything. He was, Cas, because that’s the way I was raised, that was drilled and imprinted in my head when I was four. And, I had to tell him that, and if they took the bar off, I’d probably die without him knowing it. I didn’t fight because I wanted to die. I just made a choice, and it was to let my brother know that he didn’t have to stay with me in the bunker forever, he could have a life. A normal one. I took him off from his apple pie life fifteen years ago, I needed to put him back.”

“Dean, this is… Sam was devastated. He’s have stayed with you, not out of obligation, but because he loves you.”

“I know, Cas. I know. But I was dying, man. My thoughts were all scrambled. I’m telling you this because I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’re the first one I’m telling this. You’re probably the only one who will know this, ever.”

“I’m honored by your trust in me,” Cas says solemnly.

“Yeah, yeah, better late than ever, right?” Dean says, a little self-deprecatingly. “But listen. There’s more.” He takes a deep breath. “Some things you told me that day stayed with me. That I wasn’t the killer I saw in myself. That I was good. That everything I did was for love. But… now I realize that all that love, it was never directed at someone that should’ve gotten it the most, because he loved me when I didn’t love myself.”

“Dean, what – “

Dean raises his hand to make Cas stop talking. “The thing is… When you said those words to me, and I didn’t say anything… I should’ve said something. I should’ve. Even if it was just ‘you’re important to me, Cas, don’t go’. But I’m a coward and I didn’t say a thing, and you were just gone. I blinked, and you were gone, and I knew I’d never see you again.”

“I didn’t say it to be reciprocated, Dean. I said it because I had just had an epiphany and I was so happy for finally understanding that I could just say it, because it was the truest thing inside me for a long, long time. I realized that and… I had to let you know. But I wasn’t expecting anything from you, I didn’t want that burden on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything.”

“But I did, Cas. I do. I owe you my life, more than once. I owe you my humanity and I owe you never giving up on me, even when I gave up on you. I’ve reached to the conclusion that I owe you everything that remains good inside me. And – and then you left and I – why did you have to sacrifice yourself like that?”

“It was out of utter despair, Dean. We were in a situation that we had no way of winning. And I… I looked at you, and your face, so devoid of hope… and you were beautiful’ you were Dean Winchester! I held your soul in my hands a long time ago, and from that moment on, everything changed, Dean. I wanted to fight it at first, but it was useless. That was something my powers could never do, and for all the free will I had fought for, this one thing, what I felt for you, what I feel for you, is the only thing I have no free will over. And in that moment of – of desperation, I knew I would give my life for you again and again if I had to.”

“Cas…” Dean says, amazed. He can’t even begin to understand the love this timeless creature, this angel that was been around since the beginning of time, feels for him. It’s beyond his comprehension, but in Cas’ eyes he sees that every word is true. This love, this seemingly enormous thing that made Cas defy heaven and every order that Chuck, Naomi, Zachariah, Uriel, Raphael and everyone else ever gave him, it’s too much for Dean’s ordinary human mind to understand. But he wants it.

“I was… I was so used to you always being around that I didn’t realize that whenever you were gone, every time, Cas… you took part of me with you.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “Dean…?”

“You said I deserve to be happy. Then you built this – this heaven for me with all I could possibly want, but Cas… I could never, I can never be happy here - ”

“Dean, don’t,” Cas starts. “Please.”

“- not without you,” Dean goes on. “Never without you. You can put everything and everyone here, you can build me a bunker, a palace, I don’t care. If you’re not here, it will never make me happy.“

Dean inches closer, until his face is so close to Cas’ that he can see his long lashes and his blue, blue sparkling eyes. “So, I’m telling you… that thing you said, back there, that you couldn’t have? You can have it, Cas. It’s yours. It has been yours for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize.” “But Dean, how can you –“

“Shut up, Cas, don’t spoil the moment.”

“But I – “

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean’s voice is laced with fondness.

“But you – “

“Dean loses his patience, just a little. “Cas! For Jack’s sake!” Then he adds, softly, “I’m trying to kiss you here, so unless you really, really want to stop me, just. Shut. Up.”

Cas snaps his mouth shut.

Dean closes the distance between them and his lips touch Cas’, briefly, softly. There’s no electric current, fireworks, sparks flying, like in the paperback novels Dean will deny forever that he reads once in a while. There’s only this indescribable happiness. There’s this sense of “this is it” inside his head. Cas is it.

They come apart slowly, and Dean looks at Cas’ eyes, which are bright and moist, and Dean smiles, knowing that these almost tears are of happiness. The same happiness he feels, knowing that finally, finally Cas won’t go any other minute of his life without knowing how much he is loved. Because he is.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers, “and you’re it for me. So, if you want, we can, maybe… spend all eternity together?”

Cas smiles, the kind of rare smiles that scrunches his nose and wrinkles the corner of his eyes. The smile Dean has never seen in him, except when they’re together, laughing. “I’d like that,” he says. “A lot.”

“Alright,” Dean murmurs, going for another kiss.

They have all the time in the world, and they’re not in a hurry, so the kiss doesn’t end anytime soon, and morphs into another one, and in so, so much more. The moon in shining up in heaven’s sky, but Dean knows it’s a pale comparison to the shine in Cas ‘eyes.

--- --- ---

About the author

Dean Winchester was born on January 24, 1979 to John and Mary Winchester in Lawrence, Kansas. He died on November 19, 2020. He is the couple's first child, four years older than his younger brother, Sam. He is named after his maternal grandmother, Deanna Campbell. Dean was raised as a hunter by his father, after his mother’s death. He lived the life of a nomad, eliminating several monsters, ghosts, evil spirits and demons, and saving a lot of humans. He also played a crucial part in Apocalypse I, Apocalypse II, the Darkness Apocalypse and in Chuck Shurley’s (AKA The Almighty) demise. He also killed Adolf Hitler. Currently, Dean lives in Heaven, sector 24 – A, with his partner, his brother and his dog. He works as a Newcomers' Advisor. Mail can be sent to PO box KAZ 2Y5.

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Epilogue

Snippet of life in Heaven.

“Sammy, take this.” Dean shoves the little booklet in Sam’s hand.

They’re in one on the many gatherings and parties around here. This time, is for Bobby and Karen’s vows renewal. Everyone is there, everyone is happy, dancing, smiling. Dean sees Sam in a corner, surreptitiously looking at Eileen, on the other side of the room, talking to Cas.

Sam picks the booklet. “How to fall in love when you’re dead,” he reads. “A guide by Dean Winchester.” He looks at Dean, frowning. “Did you… write this?”

“Dean shrugs, cheeks reddening. “Cas helped. But I did most of the work.”

“Wow, Dean,” Sam’s face shows his astonish.

“I mean… I figured this could help other people to solve their… unfinished business, you know? I solved mine,” he says, looking at Cas, who is talking to Eileen using ASL. He’s really amazing. “If I solved mine, a lot of people can, too. Just – just don’t read it near me, or don’t ask me anything about the things I wrote there. It’s… I still don’t like chick flick moments, okay?”

“You don’t fool me,” Sam smiles, holding the booklet close. “I know you’re a big sap.”

Dean clears his throat. “I know you’re still in love with Eileen, Sammy. So, go and talk to her. Things are different here, but just because we literally have all eternity in our hands, it doesn’t mean we have to waste it.”

Sam looks at Eileen again. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m gonna read this, and talk to her.”

“You do that. But maybe you’ll want to skip the part where things got really steamy at the bunker’s rooftop."

“Ewww, Dean! Come on! I did not need to that information!”

“I’m just kidding, Samantha, don’t get your panties twisted. ‘Cause, if I’d have to write about all the times things got steamy between me’n Cas since we got together, this would probably be R-rated.”

Sam slaps Dean’s shoulder, but he’s laughing.

“Ew, not again, jerk!”

“Bitch.”

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“Did you give your book to Sam?” Cas asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not a book, Cas.”

“It’s about us. For me it’s a book, and you’re not changing my opinion about it.”

They’re close, facing each other, and somewhere there’s soft music playing. Dean doesn’t even notice when he and Cas put their hands on each other’s waists.

“Dean, I… um… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Cas says, serious.

“Shoot.”

“Jack wants to build a new section in heaven, and I volunteered. And I, um… I need your assistance.”

“Sure,” Dean says. “What is it? A new bible camp?” he jokes.

“A beach.”

Dean frowns. “Did I hear you saying a beach?”

“Yes. Like… um… the Bahamas.”

“But… why do you need my help to make a beach?”

“I don’t need your help with the beach part. But I… I was thinking that maybe, if you want, you could um… build a cabin there. And…” Cas’ cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “And of course, I’d have to go there and inspect it. And we would be… you know… alone. You and me. With no other angel or human soul around.”

Oh.

Dean arches his eyebrows. “Castiel Winchester, I didn’t know you had a devious side.” He widens his eyes. Oops.

“Winchester?” Cas’ eyes, if possible, are even wider.

It’s Dean’s time to blush. “Yes, um… if you want to. But if you don’t, it’s – “

“Dean. I’d be honored.”

“Yeah?”

They’re swaying slowly, almost dancing together without even realizing it.

“Yes,” Cas says. “Would you be too embarrassed if I kissed you now?”

“Nah,” Dean smiles. He looks around. Every one of his extended family and friends is there. “They’ll all probably read the booklet, anyway. Besides, the only one that didn’t know we were boyfriends without the fun, was little ol’ me.”

“Good,” Cas says, kissing Dean, the kind of soft and unhurried kiss that leaves no doubt of the love behind it.

Dean kisses him back, his chest almost bursting with joy, with love. And, in his lips, Dean tastes the forever that awaits them.

THE END

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#destiel secret santa 2020 #15x20 fix it

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Note

hi, idk if you're taking requests rn but i was wondering if you could do a peter x astrophilia! reader where they're stargazing and he's just staring at her in awe while she rambles about space and she sees him staring and just blushes n goes quiet 🥺

Astrophilia

Astrophilia- (noun) Love of and/or obsession with planets, stars, and outer space.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

At age fourteen, you didn’t exactly have much on your plate. It was the summer before high school and your days mostly consisted of the same things: Subways rides to the “dangerous” parts of New York (or as far as Aunt May allowed) and trips to random streets you couldn’t find on a map. Some days were spent inside playing Mario Kart until your thumbs hated you, and some days were spent outdoors until the sun had fully set and your parents were just about ready to kill you for being out so late. No matter what you were doing, you days were spent with your best friend Peter Parker.

You’d been friends since preschool and being apart was not something either of you enjoyed. Today was no different. You were hanging out in Peters room, just three days before high school was going to start.

It was a slow Sunday. You were just sitting on Peters bed, joking around like always. It's been that way for years, Peter and Y/n, the dynamic duo. But you kinda always liked him a little more than a friend. You couldn't help it. Peter was sweet, kind, adorable, respectful, and treated you like royalty. You didn’t know when the platonic moments in your friendship began to feel romantic, but once you noticed, it was all you thought about.

“Do you think the people will be nice?” You asked Peter as you curled into on of his pillows. Peter joined you on the bed and shrugged.

“I’m sure they’ll be nice enough.” He said.

“Do you think the boys will be nice?” You asked the real question that was on your mind.

Peter was quiet for a minute and shifted his position.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and kept his eyes down. “Maybe?”

You sat up on your elbow and faced him.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” You asked him awkwardly. Sometimes, having a boy best friend made conversations like these harder than they needed to be.

“The boys?” Peter squeaked, feeling a weird feeling in his tummy at your sudden interest in guys.

“Yeah.” You said shyly.

“Of course they will.” Peter stated. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m kinda, I don’t know, nerdy.” You shrugged.

“You think you’re nerdy?” Peter asked. “I wear science pun T shirts and my aunt still packs my lunches.”

“Yeah, but what about the whole space thing?” You asked him. You were a bit of a space geek, something Peter adored about you.

“Y/n, you’re a genius when it comes to knowing about space. That doesn’t make you a nerd. That makes you super cool.” Peter assured you. He hated when you felt insecure about your intelligence. You were the smartest person he knew, and he loved that.

“I’m glad you think so, but I doubt high school boys will find my geekiness ‘super cool’.” You said meekly.

“What kind of guys are you into anyway?” Peter pretended to just think of the question, when he’d really been thinking about it for months. You laughed a little to yourself, know long the kind of guys you were into were Peter.

“I don’t know. Nice ones? I don’t really think about it. As long as he’s kind and can make me laugh, I’ll take him.” You shrugged with a small smile. “And if he knows a thing or two about space, that’d be nice too.”

“You’re telling me all a guy has to be is kind, funny, know a little something about space to be with a girl like you?” Peter asked in disbelief. “There’s gotta be something else, something you look for.”

“A girl like me?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know.” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “It was a dumb question. Forget I asked.”

“Okay.” You watched Peter curiously for a moment before looking away. “And I like musicians, by the way.” You blurted. “That’s the thing I look for. Especially the guitar.”

You and Peter dropped the topic and went on as usual.

The first day of school came and went. When the sun set and you finished your homework, you took Peter to the roof to stargaze like you always did. You sat between Peters legs against the chimney and tilted your chins towards the sky.

“Wow.” You breathed.

“The stars are really showing off tonight, aren’t they? Putting on a show for us.” Peter said softly as he watched your reaction to the sky.

“I could look at the sky for hours.” You sighed and held onto Peters arm, which were wrapped around your shoulders.

“They seem so close. Just a few miles from where we are.” Peter commented.

“Well the closest star to Earth is Proxima Centauri. It’s just 4.2 light-years away.” You absentmindedly told Peter a fact about space. You missed the fond smile he gave you as he found himself wanting to know more.

“And the furthest?” He asked.

“The furthest star right now is 100 million light years away. It’s in the M100 galaxy of the Virgo Cluster.” You said like it was common knowledge. Peters eyes gleamed with an inexplicably fondness for your intelligence.

“How many do you think there are? A million?” He asked, playing dumb now to coax more facts out of you.

“About 200 to 400 billion, and about a trillion in the Milky Way.” You answered, suddenly becoming self conscious of your words. “Uh, I’m guessing.”

“Seems like a pretty good guess to me.” Peter shrugged against your body.

“Sorry. I’m being weird. I’ll stop.” You shifted awkwardly and swallowed.

“You’re not being weird.” Peter said defensively. “Tell me about them.”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder at him.

“The stars. Tell me about them. I want to hear everything you know.” Peter smiled sheepishly.

“No you don’t. It’s boring.” You shook your head.

“Not to me.” Peter promised. A smile tugged onto your lips and you turned back towards the sky.

“So, space is infinite, obviously.” You began. “You got your planets, galaxies, moons, nebulas, and of course, stars. My favorite are stars.”

“Me too.” Peter held you closer and rested his chin on your hair as he listened.

“Stars are luminous spheres made of plasma-“

“Plasma?” Peter asked.

“It’s superheated gas threaded with a magnetic field.” You answered. Stars are mostly made of hydrogen, which they fuse in their cores.”

“Got it.” Peter nodded as if he understood a word you said. His sudden interest encouraged you to keep going.

“That process releases energy, which pushes against the weight of the outer layers of the star and stabilizes it. The energy is also released as heat and light, which radiates out to space.” You continued.

“Amazing.” Peter stared at your profile. The way your face lit up when talking about something you loved made Peters heart melt. He could listen to you all night.

“I know, right?” You laughed happily, making Peter grin. “And did you know stars were some of the first objects to form in the early stages of the universe? We’re looking at the same stars dinosaurs, Galileo, and King Henry have looked at. Isn’t that incredible to think about? The same sun that warms our skin has shown on Alice Paul and Stan Lee. That’s why I love space so much.”

“I didn’t know that.” Peter said gently.

“Because people don’t take the time to learn about it.” You sighed in disappointment. “I mean, they teach us about the phases of the moon and whatnot, but they don’t tell us about the basic groundwork of the universe. Like, have you ever been taught how a star is formed?”

“No. Could you tell me?” Peter asked gently.

“Well, as long as you’re asking.” You smiled sheepishly to hide your excitement. “So, star formation happens in clouds of interstellar gas and dust called “nebulae”, right? The star starts to form when the cloud is nudged into a spinning motion, usually by a shock wave from a nearby supernova explosion or something. Clumps begin to form, and they get hotter and hotter as they gain more mass. When the temperature inside reaches 10 million degrees Celsius a star is born.” You recited. You looked over at Peter and noticed that he was dead silent, just staring at you. Your cheeks heated up when Peter didn’t say anything, and you got quiet. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s okay.” Peter snapped out of his awe and assured you. “Keep going.”

“Do you really want to hear about stars?” You asked suspiciously.

“No, but I like to hear you talk.” Peter admitted.

"I still can't believe Liz turned you down.” You changed the subject to something more Peters speed. He had asked Liz Allen to the back to school party at Flash’s house and she promptly turned him down. “She's crazy."

You felt Peter shrug against you again and you wondered if you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

"It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her anyway.” Peter answered honestly.

"I know, but still. Who in their right mind would turn you down? She’s lucky you even looked her way.” You said, not even realizing what your words meant to Peter. He felt it too, that shift from platonic to romantic. He was just glad you weren’t facing him and couldn’t see his blush.

“You’re just saying that.” He replied.

“No, I’m not.” You said sincerely. “You're so nice to everyone and so smart. And oh my God, the funniest guy in the world. And not to mention, cute as hell.”

Peters body suddenly felt warm against yours and you wondered if he was blushing.

(Yes, he was)

"Nowhere near as cute as you." He said in a shy voice. You looked back at him gave him a playful shove.

"Oh, shut up. No I'm not." You looked back at the sky to keep yourself from smiling as Peter shook his head.

"You should see the way guys look at you. They practically drool." He muttered, and you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Oh, please. No guys stare at me.” You dismissed. “Why would they? I'm nothing special."

Peter finally looked at you and met your eyes.

"Do you really not know you're beautiful?" He asked, confusion in his voice.

"What?” You asked quietly.

"You know you're beautiful, right Y/n?" Peter sat up a little and sounded serious. Unsure of what to say, you didn’t answer and just chewed your lips.

"Did you really not know that?” Peter asked again.

You shook you head and Peter laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not beautiful, Peter. Not like Liz, anyway. Not even close." You said softly, making Peter look at you like you were crazy.

"Yes you are, Y/n.” Peter said firmly. “Inside and out. I can't believe no ones ever told you."

“Why does it matter?” You shrugged.

“Look up.” Peter said suddenly, and you did.

“You see those stars? All 200 to 400 billion of them?” He asked and you nodded. “You are more beautiful than every single one of them. Even the trillion in the Milky Way. And you’re wrong. The closest star isn’t 4.2 light years away. She’s sitting right next to me.”

“You listened.” You smiled small and looked back down at him.

"I always listen.” Peter told you. That's it, hand me my backpack.” He commanded. You laughed but did as you were told. Peter began to dig in his backpack, emptying it of books to find what he was looking for.

"What are you doing?" You asked him. He didn't answer, but pulled a small ukulele out of his bag.

“Since when do you play?” You asked in shock. You were so sure you knew everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

“Since about three days ago.” Peter answered as he held the instrument to his ear and tuned it.

"Just listen, okay? I know it’s not a guitar, but listen.” He asked calmly. You nodded, dying to see where this was going as he began to strum his ukulele. His fingers soon found the rhythm and a melody flowed out. You didn't recognize the song a first, but soon realized it was You're Beautiful by James Blunt. You smiled and rested your hand on his knee as he played.

"My life is brilliant, my love is pure. I saw an angel, of that I'm sure." He sang softly. Not only could Peter play, the boy could sing. His voice was smooth and angelic, making your heart flutter. You’d never been serenaded before and it was definitely something you could get used to.

"You're beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, it's true. I saw your face in a crowded place and I don't know what to do. Cause I'll never be with you." He continued the song, finally looking away from the strings and into your eyes. You listened to him as closely as you could, basking in the moment. There was that incredible voice that you loved. Peter was always shy about things he was good at, and you wondered if that’s why you’d never heard his singing before. You felt robbed of his glory for the past 14 years.

"There must be angel with a smile on her face when she thought up that I should be with you.” He sang through a smile.

You beamed at him and his cheeks grew pinker and pinker. Peters fingers dragged along the strings as he approached the final verse.

"But it's time to face the truth; I will never be with you." He strummed once more before setting the ukulele down on his lap. He looked very satisfied with his little serenade before looking up at you for approval. You looked up into his brown eyes and broke into a huge smile.

"That was beautiful, Peter. I loved it.” You told him honestly as you reached over and took his hand. “But some of those lyrics are a lie."

Peter put the ukele back in his bag and sighed.

"No they're not, Y/n. You really are beautiful." He promised.

You laughed softly and toyed with his fingers.

"No, not those lyrics." You shook your head and Peter looked confused.

"Then, which lyrics?" He asked.

You held your breath and looked away from his gaze. It was time to take a leap of faith. “The ones that say ‘I'll never be with you’, I mean.That’s not true. At least, I hope it’s not true.” You look into Peters eyes and search them for a reaction. You thank your lucky stars when you see his face light up and a huge grin making its way across his lips.

"REALLY?!" He asked excitedly, then clears his throat and tries to look casual. "I mean um, really?" Peter asked with all the hope on the world in his eyes.

“Really.” You confirmed.

"Truth is Y/n, Liz didn’t turn me down. I actually turned her down for a the party because…” he trailed off.

"Because?" You asked, encouraging him to continue.

"Because, well...you're the one that I want. Not her or any other girl. I wanna be with you." He said softly and carefully, in fear of being rejected.

Little did he know, you had been dreaming of being his for months at that point. You didn't want to spend another second being just his friend. Peter looked at you longingly, expecting you to say something. But you didn't say anything; you just leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, gently in the pale moonlight. Peter seemed surprised at first, but then kissed you back, cupping your cheek with his hand. You leaned forward and pushed him back against the base of the chimney, melting into him. You finally broke apart and stared at each other in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence. He brought his slightly cold hand back to your cheek and you leaned into it.

"I really like you, Y/n.” Peter smiled, looking the happiest you’d ever seen him.

"I really like you too, Peter.” You smiled back.

Peter laughed in joy and kissed you again.

“Do you want to go to that party together?” Peter suggested “As a couple?”

“I would love to.” You agreed to his offer and turned around again to settle into his arms. You tilted your chins towards the sky again, returning to your stargazing. This time, you weren’t thinking about space. Stars weren’t your favorite thing in the universe anymore. Now, it was Peter Parker.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #iron man #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker x best friend!reader #peter parker x astrophilia!reader

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

A Quiet Night in Temeria (Jaskier x reader, Part 1.)

Description: Geralt of Rivia isn't always there to watch over Jaskier, his best, yet incapable bard friend. Sometimes, when the Witcher knows that there is bad blood between the bard and someone else, he writes a contract and offers a job - silently watching over Jaskier traveling the roads.

Part Summary: When you took the job of watching over some bard from a notice board, you thought that everything's gonna be just fine - but you didn't know that Jaskier is a problem magnet.

Warnings: Some fighting, some gore, but overall just Jaskier being messy and all over the place.

Word count: 4.2 K

Tagging: @nemodoren

Series master list: The Incapable Bard's Contract

It was a quiet night.

That kind of night you always tended to hate the most - almost everything could go wrong in a minute, literally. It usually went like that. Everyone was having fun at one minute and the other one, a fight was started. You've seen it many times, especially on bard meetings under the Ancient tree, which was a place where almost any traveler was allowed to seek a few kind words, wine, and fun.

When these fights happened, the people and creatures of all sorts were arguing, yelling and punching each other for less than ten minutes, since the Druids always made them stop; yet you knew how these went.

You didn't join such fights, nor bards traveling through the Continent. So what were you doing in the Temeria wilderness, eyeing down one of them? Well, to put it simply - you found an interesting note from a nameless person on the notice board in Novigrad. The note was searching for someone who could fight and had a lot of patience - perfect for you.

That was why you were sitting in a top of a high tree, on a branch that could support your weight. You were eyeing a near campfire with people around it. They were drinking, chatting and enjoying themselves, but you had your eye on one particular member of their small settlement. The man had a blue, luxurious coat on and played the lute, making everyone laugh. Thank God that you didn't listen to that.

When you wrote back to the contract note, soon, a small letter was delivered to you, written in messy handwriting. It stated as follows 'Since I am currently unable to travel with the bard who goes under name Jaskier, your job would be to escort the bard from the meeting of free bards in Temeria to Oxenfurt. Payment will be given to you at the meeting point. 2000 Orens on hand.' When you read the letter for the first time, your jaw nearly dropped. Two thousand for quietly sitting in the shadows, following a bard and making sure that he won't be killed?

That was almost a dream job. As the letter informed you, you found the man at the meeting of free bards in Temeria. It wasn't too hard since Jaskier, that was the man's name, surely enjoyed being in the spotlight. He was jolly, to say the least, and liked to surround himself with girls and a cup of good wine. A typical bard-ish behavior, as far as you were concerned.

Most of the people and creatures he was hanging out with seem to like him, so you weren't too afraid that someone would poison your bard or beat him up. Most of the time, it was the third day and to that day, you were almost halfway through your way, you were mostly observing the man from a great distance; he has never seen you, he had never talked to you or acknowledged your presence at all. He didn't know that he was being watched.

Just as you were most of the time, you were just a small shadow lingering at the back of his head - nothing more. You never approached the bard, telling him about being his... Bodyguard, when you had to put it like that. You came to the inns after him, checking into the room opposite his so you could hear everything that was happening in that room. Most of the time, he was only inviting ladies there, sometimes he was playing on the lute. You quietly followed him to the markets, just pretending to look at the goods, always keeping at least ten meters long distance between you and the man. When he was eating out in an in, you ordered food there as well.

But as you said, you didn't like quiet and peaceful nights. A calm night was going hand in hand with approaching disaster. Soon, your face furrowed when you heard some noises coming from the woods behind you. The needles and sticks were crackling under the footsteps of at least two men. They were sneaking under you, whispering and pointing to the campfire.

Your palm caught the branch under you, you put one of your legs up and in a fast move, you jolted, so you could squat. From memory, you reached for a small throwing dagger to take a hold on a weapon. At first, you thought that you're a bit paranoid. Them sneaking up to the campfire certainly didn't have to mean that they were about to kill someone.

Maybe they just didn't want to be seen and they wanted to go around the bards as quickly and silently as possible. Yet, you still held the dagger to be prepared for an immediate attack. You furrowed, even more, when you saw one of them signing in the direction of your bard. No way. No one would try to get your bard in danger. No-one other than you, as far as you were concerned.

You leaped off and fell directly on the third assassin who you haven't seen until that very moment. You did it as silently as you could, you held him in your arms and dragged the man behind a tree, to a bush. There, you kicked the assassin to the temple of his head with the steel tip of your boot and knocked him out consciousness completely.

The other men didn't even notice you, which was only playing in your favor. Again, you took out a throwing dagger and played with it in your palm. For a while, it was just a matter of seconds, you took a good look at the situation in front of you - the bards with their women were sitting at the table, two men were crawling in front of you and another four were on the other side.

At that moment, you knew that you will grab a lot of attention, yet you had to be quick if you wanted to save somebody's ass. To do so, you just stood up and threw the dagger into the man's head - you never missed before and this situation wasn't an exception. The blade got through the skull in a matter of seconds and the dead body fell on the ground. Before the other man looked at you, you already jumped at him and took him down to a roll, cracking the back of his neck. You both fell down - only you were able to roll, so you were kneeling in front of the campfire. The other man was surely dead.

Every bard quickly shut up, their women freaked out and ran away with yelling. They were terrified of you and the assassins suddenly interrupting the meeting. Most of the bards let their lutes go and disappeared in the woods around. When Jaskier was about to run away as well, you caught his collar and pushed him on his back, letting him lay on the ground. Jaskier just closed his eyes and exhaled with pain. You had some strength in that body. When he tried to get up, you pressed your feet into his chest, taking out another throwing dagger.

"If you move, I'll miss." - You warned him with hissing through your lips. You looked at another man charging at you and your face grinned on its own. Well, that boy didn't charge for too long, as you stretched your arms and threw it. The dagger stabbed directly into his eye. But your trouble were just starting with one man jumping on your shoulder, taking you down off Jaskier.

As soon you put your feet off of Jaskier's chest and tried to fight the aggressor, headbutting him, scratching the right side of his face, while you searched your back for the last throwing dagger, the bard crawled backward, behind the log he was sitting at just a few minutes ago. He searched around the log for a lute, standing up and breaking the instrument over the man's head as you pushed the body off of you. The man's face fell directly into the flames and only loud yelling could be heard. It was horrendous.

Before you could even look at Jaskier, another man made a quick move with his sword, bruising your upper arm, ripping a hole in your fucking shirt. After that, you took the bigger dagger from behind your buckle and steadied yourself before letting the last two men standing attack you. They were in complete sync and harmony while they attacked you, so it surprised you when Jaskier put another lute on fire and pushed into one man's face. You took the other one by his shoulder and kicked him into his crotch with your knee, pushing him the dagger into his throat, feeling his warm blood dripping on your palms almost immediately.

When you finally could take a deep breath, only you and the bard were standing up, looking at the mess around you. Six men were dead, one was laid down in the bushes, knocked out. Two of them had grilled a part of their body, one still grilling in the fire, two were taken down with your daggers, one had cracked spinal cord and the last one was just bleeding out under you.

"Thank you, my fair lady. I will be forever your debtor. Whatever you want, just tell me, I'll get you that. Do you want a ballad, a tale, or money? Or me? Or are you thirsting after the law of surprise?" - Jaskier started to stutter and kissed the tip of your hand when you weren't concentrated. You took the hand immediately, looking disgustedly at the bard, cleaning it on your upper thigh as you started to collect the daggers out of the bodies on the ground, ignoring almost all of them.

"Did you meet someone particularly dangerous in the last few months? Is someone after you? Speak, bard, my patience is wearing thin." - You said in a rough voice, cleaning the throwing daggers on your thighs.

"No. I don't recall anyone, dear lady..." - Jaskier gasped for air and followed you like a lost puppy, looking at you with respect and admiration. - "Bloody hell, you massacred them, one after one. Were you doing that from the good of your heart of you didn't want to see a... Particularly handsome bard dead?" - The man came directly in front of you with a wicked smile on his lips, stopping you from collecting your shit.

Your eyes closed a bit as you watched his face. You looked as cold as ice, which was a kind of a challenge for Jaskier. He didn't know who you are, he didn't know your name and he didn't see you until that very moment. Yet, you jumped in and saved his ass. That must've been something, right? Destiny or something like that.

"I just care about you surviving, don't flatter yourself. You're dressed as a princess, I highly doubt your fighting skills. So... Anyone? Not even Radovid's men? No men from Crow's Perch or Novigrad? Anything like that?" - You kneeled and started to search through the bodies to look for any clue - for notes, orders, letters, wax seals, coat of arms, anything. The only thing you knew that these men weren't from King Foltest of Temeria. Temerians never more only black clothes and their clothes were weirdly sewed together. Plus, Foltest was as smart as he was handsome - he wouldn't try to murder bards on his own land if he would be suspicious then. If Foltest would ever send his men after Jaskier, he would do it once the bard leaves Temeria.

"How did you even get here?" - Jaskier asked instead of answering your questions. You rolled your eyes and exhaled loudly. Great. So you had a smartie who talked back. After a moment of your silence still looking at those men, Jaskier asked again.

"Who are you then?" - Jaskier asked with confusion as he watched you standing up. You sure looked dangerous enough to be an assassin, yet there was something Jaskier would describe as Witchery, almost dangerous about you. You had three throwing daggers in leather straps on your back, one longer dagger on your hip, a white linen shirt, and leather pants, now soaked in blood. You snapped one man's neck in an instant which needed some training for sure. You weren't just a local save-the-day neighbor.

"Just call me Y/N. I'm looking out for you because of a note I responded to in Novigrad. That's all. You're a job. Once it's done, I'll just disappear again." - You exhaled and took his sleeve to drag him behind you as your intuition was telling you to go somewhere safe before other men would turn around after the first assault group failed. But the bard stopped and got back to get his notebook and his lute, looking at you.

"Northing personal here, missy, but you have just executed six men in front of my very own eyes. What gives you the idea that I'll follow you? The world's bloody crazy these days!" - The bard told you in a high pitched voice, which surely indicated that he's stressed out. You got that. To see you for the first time in action could be a little unnerving, but at the moment, you didn't have time or patience to talk Jaskier through the business.

"Tell me, idiot. Are you dead or not?" - You put your palms on your hips and gave him a furrowed look. Men were just too much to take in at times. - "Let me answer you, okay? You're not. Why not, you might be asking yourself and I must say - a good fucking question, comrade. So, I'll put it like this. If you get killed, I won't get my payment. That's why I'm here. Can we go now, missy?"

"So if I won't want to go, you will have to stay here with me?" - Jaskier tried to act up, like a man he was, but as soon as he saw the dead bodies again, he almost threw up. Plus, there was a weird stench of grilled meat in the air. You knew that he won't stay.

"If you won't go, unfortunately, due to safety reasons, I will have to put you in unconsciousness state and escort you away from this place, mister Jaskier." - You changed the tone of your voice and even the way you stood, now standing like a soldier. You were nice, if you wanted to put it that way, to him and the bard didn't budge - so you tried a more respectable approach, acting like a soldier. Which was known to you? But it seemed to make something with Jaskier since he exhaled loudly and caught up with you.

"Tell me, lady Y/N. Are you a sorceress or a fortune-teller? Or a mutant? Do you have something to do with the Witchers?" - Jaskier was just giving you a question, after question. So that was why you should have a lot of patience and that was the reason why the payment was so high. You suddenly understood.

"Does a person who can fight necessarily have to belong or have something common with the Witchers? I haven't ever seen one, I thought that these guys are legends - scarecrows for the kids." - You said ironically and took Jaskier off the main road, yet still copying its direction in the woods, so you could be hardly seen.

"Uh, no. I know a few, one or two. They are more than real. So you're not a Witcher... Are you with the sorceress council, then?" - Jaskier didn't let his curiousness fade away as he continued with asking. You furrowed, even more, grunting unpleasantly. Jaskier was very... Jolly and talkative. Oh, dear.

"Me and a sorceress? Oh lord, did someone hit the fucking back of your head? Have I cast a spell?" - You wondered and continued directly to the inn, taking the fastest route. Your senses have sharpened again as you stopped at the place, where the roads were crossing. It looked completely empty, yet you were nervous. The village was just fifteen minutes away, but there were a lot of possibilities to attack you.

"I don't know, kind lady. You look like a Dryad, or perhaps a Fairy or a Rusalka, and yet, you act like a Bruxa. You might be a sorceress for what I know." - Jaskier told you and ran after you again. You stopped and ironically looked at the man. That was a blatant compliment from the bard since you were bloody, muddy and bruised and just killed six men. Yeah, he was comparing you to monsters, but to ones, who looked like princesses at a first sight.

"Let me end the topic - I am not a Witcher, I am not a sorceress nor a mutant, I am not a monster. I am a human being. Now, let's just go. We need to hurry up." - You ended the conversation and tried to speed up. Jaskier truly shut up as well and tried to be as fast as you were. You could somehow sense that Jaskier's not completely on board with hiking. You were in front of the inn just after a few more minutes.

There were a lot of people inside, particularly a lot of drunk people, so your intuition let you rest a bit. There was no threat to you at the time. You dragged Jaskier along to the innkeeper, smiling at the fat man with his face completely red.

"What can I help you with, young lady?" - The innkeeper asked with a wicked smile and you just closed your eyes a little, telling him that he should let those names and thoughts rather be.

"A room it would be, mister. I've ordered a single room here in the afternoon, hope you remember me." - You said uncomfortably and watched the people around. Anyone could literally any time call the guards at you, going through the village dirty in blood from your head to your toes. That would probably be a minor inconvenience.

At the next second, Jaskier proved himself not to be dumb - he quickly took off his jacket off and just rolled you into it, covering your dirty and cut shirt, smiling knowingly at the innkeeper. Usually, you didn't like to play games with your targets - but any of your targets had seven trained assassins on his ass until that day. You should kill the last one just to make sure, damn it. You nodded and looked at the innkeeper.

That old pig surely imagined something under Jaskier's action and started to laugh, but his laugh sounded like the snoring of a pig.

"I see how things are. So, mister Jaskier, I presume you would like to share one room with the lady?" - The innkeeper leaned in excitedly, his shining eyes looking into your faces. If you couldn't handle your self-esteem in that sort of thing, you would surely be as red as a tomato. Yet, because you were able to control your emotions, you were just deadly staring the innkeeper down.

"One room with two beds. I would like your people to move all of our things there, washing service and a hot bathtub. And key from the room, of course." - You said coldly, trying to cut the imagines off. But then you rolled your eyes and sighed. - "I don't like sleeping in one bed." - You mumbled quietly to save the situation.

Jaskier was a great actor, raising his eyebrows at the innkeeper. The innkeeper quickly wrote, more like drawing, a few things down. - "And a bottle of our finest wine, I presume?" - The innkeeper winked at Jaskier, but you froze and gave the bard a look as well. Great. Now the old, disgusting pig surely thought that you're sleeping together. That was just awesome.

"No. Thank you, kindest sir, but I don't need wine. My ballads will be just enough." - Jaskier gives him a wink. There was any resistance from your side anymore. You just wanted the bard somewhere safe and a hot bathtub. Those were your inner wishes at the moment.

"Well then, my girls will bring you your things from your room and I will ask them to prepare you a bath. Enjoy your stay." - The innkeeper said and with that, you walked to one of the tables, waiting for someone you could order your food and drinks from. You looked at your hands and sighed - the blood was slowly drying down. When you sat down, you got the bard a look.

"Hope that you don't take anything personally. We wouldn't be on the same page then." - You mumbled and nodded at the girl serving, asking her for two pints of ale. Jaskier shook his head, yet a smile didn't disappear from his lips.

"I would think that only when I would like to get skinned alive. And I like my skin, I really do." - The bard assured you in a calm voice and you nodded.

You ate in complete silence, quickly as possible to be in the room as soon as possible. As the innkeeper told you, there were your things on the table, Jaskier's on the other one, there was a huge bathtub in the direct middle of the room and to your surprise, even the key wasn't missing, put on the table - next to a bottle of wine and two glasses. Jaskier seemed to be in joy about that; you didn't think about that much since you started to undress.

"Whoa. Whoa. What's that, missy?" - Jaskier cried out, but instead of turning, he stood there and stared your chest down as if it was the first time ever he had ever seen woman's breasts. You rose your palm, pretend that you wanted to smack him, and he immediately turned away from you.

“Don't you dare to turn around until I am in the bath. Do you understand?” - You hissed as you pulled the pants down off your body and stepped aside from the boots. The man nodded, yet his head shook a bit as he exhaled loudly. You were truly something... Particular.

You got on your knees and slowly slid under the water level, closing your eyes in relaxation. You quietly hissed when your bruised upper arm followed your body under the water.

Blood slowly flowed down to your elbow, it was almost everywhere, smudged on your skin - it was nothing too bad, but the blood was still dripping from the wound. A few centimeters askew and there would be a dagger stabbed into your hand.

“Does it hurt?” - Jaskier turned around as soon as he understood that you are completely covered in front of his eyes, under the water. - “Do you want me to rub it in chamomile or any other paste? I have experience with rubbing chamomile on someone.”

You turned around to face him, finally letting your hair fall down. Your lips parted for a moment, then the water splashed on the ground as you turned around again. You leaned your head to your shoulder and put your arm up, so he could rub the chamomile into your cut. The feeling of being freaked out was not something you were fond of - the fast heartbeat, sweat on your spine and small tense in your belly.

The touches were light and slow, his fingers were your rubbing skin as he tried to get the blood off. That was truly a sign that he has done that before.

“Is there a lot of people you rub your chamomile on, bard?” - A silent whisper of your voice sounded through the whole room. It was more of a curious question than a sarcastic one, you were just interested in the answer. The man exhaled with an under breath laugh.

“There's a few. Especially one of my friends, he's constantly fighting monsters and after that, he looks rather poetic, but he always smells like goat.” - Jaskier picked a handful of water from your bathtub and cleaned himself, standing up. There was a small delight from a pleasant surprise inside of you - Jaskier didn't stare down even once and he had more than one chance.

“May I go to sleep now? Or do we plan some spectacular adventure to go through this night? I would be up for one and two. I need some inspiration, that would just suit me right now.” - Jaskier rose his eyebrows and wiggled them when you turned your face to him. After a moment, there was a slight shook of your head. Jaskier fell asleep after a moment and finally, you had the time to think some plan through.

Even if it wasn't the simplest thing to do, to keep Jaskier alive at all costs, you were eager to succeed in your mission.

And the realization hit you right there in the hot bath - Vizima was just thirty minutes away from you. And you had a lot of friends there - in the whorehouse exactly.

#jaskier #jaskier the bard #jaskier x reader #the witcher netflix #netflix #geralt of rivia #white wolf #the butcher of blaviken #joey batey #marigold the bard #dandelion the bard

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

Photo

Edmond Monabellan, in fairy robes. For that moment you want to research a character, for proper representation, but the information isn’t there because white washing of history!

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 4.2 - Time Stands Still: Edmond 4/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

violence, murder, war

On the first day of Autumn, Meriam gave her kingdom a princess: Odette Craweleoth. In four week’s time, an army of Anglia needed to march north to aid Isfisceard, against Mage Prince Edmond of The Far North. Meriam knew he would win if she was not them. She had given her word on behalf of Anglia, in promise of peace with the two north kingdoms, to deal with the prince personally; as a stronger magic user. Meriam was being pulled into war. Furthermore, to arrive on time, the Anglian cavalry, and Meriam, would need to leave promptly. But she was still in recovery with her brand-new daughter, and was far to weak to use magic or ride long-distance and into war. Each week that passed, she made the army wait, in hopes she would recover just enough to join them. She wanted to hate Odette for holding her back, but couldn’t, because after almost a month of constant contact, Meriam had become attached to her only child. She was scared what would happen to her baby if she left for even a day. It was Meriam’s nightmare; ill from child bearing, homebound because of child she didn’t want, had the lives of hundreds of men in her hands, and being forced to use magic in battle. Meriam lay next to her husband, feeding her daughter, and humming her nephew to sleep, thinking; there had to be something she could do that would result in everyone, includer herself, winning.

Time is not to fooled with, but in Ealden Cynedom, it has a way of healing from tampering. As if everything is meant to be, and destiny is unchangeable. Meriam didn’t like using her powers to affect the minds and experiences of time on people, but she needed time. Unlike common folk, Meriam could afford to wait till the last possible minute. If she needed time, she could always make more, by stopping, reversing, or forwarding the clock. With little but a small hourglass, in a marble upon a chain, she was able to move the world around her, backwards. Two weeks after the battle she was supposed to attend, of which was likely won by Prince Edmond at the cost of many lives, Meriam made the world reverse to one week before the battle. She reversed the event she had failed to attend, resurrecting all who had fallen, and erasing the memory of it ever taking place. It is one thing to use time on a person, a group, or a city; but Meriam was too great a mage to think so small. The whole world was within her control with enough concentration. Still weak, but able enough to use magic to compensate, she marched with the royal guard, who was unaware the Grand West was three weeks in the future compared to other lands. May her fairy robes protect her, for Meriam intended to come home and hold her daughter and husband again. She had a promise to keep, and intended only to return after Edmond Monabellan groveled for an alliance at her feet.

At dawn, Feon woke like any other day. She put on the water to make the porridge, and her family ate breakfast while making their plans for the day. Feon was going to comb the town for daughters of the sea, her husband was going to get wood and sharpen their knives. Their daughters were doing laundry, and Lyra was sent to gather herbs and berries in the glens outside the village. By mid mourning, everyone was off to their tasks. while Feon kissed her husband at the door, the town guard came, and ripped her from his arms. Feon was dragged through the town, as she began to hear panicked yelling and horns. She struggled to get free. The men overpowered her, and dragged her to the edge of the short stone wall of the village. The lord was there, organizing soldiers into formation, and Feon’s captors pulled her head back by her hair, and yelled at her to sing. They pulled at her while the screams started, and a rally speech was given. And all Feon could think about, was where is Lyra? Feon looked around frantically as she was being yelled at to sing a protection enchantment over the town; but that would require feeling love and desire to protect, and Feon only felt fear. Then, lit arrows came, and landed in the nearby the roofs, causing a fire. There was more screaming and panic as the villagers attempted to put out the fire. The two men continued to pull Feon’s hair, and yell for her magical aid in battle. They needed to hold on until Anglia came. Then Feon looked across the field and hills. The world went silent, as directly across the field, her eyes met the yellow eyes of a black haired rough young man, in violet and gold wolf armored robes. He rode a bear, and was exuding a glow like a black hole. She could feel her heart pound against her chest, as a second wave of arrows fell, and the battalion charged to meet their enemy. The promised army of Anglia failed to arrive in time. Feon could not afford to wait for her son Lyra to return; So, she began to sing.

Not a moment earlier, in a tent in the Algonquian camp, Edmond sat with his sister, Luthid. His painted hide tent, was lavished in furs, silver and fine fabrics. His general, who was promised lordship if he conquered the Northlands of Celticia, reminded Edmond of his uncles wishes. Algonquia did not want to kill the people of the Northlands, they just wanted access to its mild weather and greenery. The King of Algonquia did not wish to send his nephew to the imperialistic frontier; It was Edmond’s choice, as a paladin, to help his families kingdom. Even his own men feared him, after he cleared battle after battle to reach the island of Isfisceard. But after using magic for murder, and missing his home, and fearing for his sister, Edmond began to doubt his mission. The radiant green bogs, glens, hills, and song of the sea, were beautiful enough to make him cry; As he murdered its innocent people for someone else. He loved fey, and learned to use weapons as a boy groomed as an heir. The only male heir left. If his sister Luthid died as well, Algonquia would be kingless. And there would be no way for Edmond to give power to the people if the Far North was in untrustworthy hands. He wanted to go home. He wished he had suggested diplomacy sooner. But the soldiers of Algonquia crossed an entire nation, and tasted its blood and riches along the way. Edmond was too far to go back.

Edmond ordered his general out of his tent, and asked for his sister. The general denied his request; Luthid agreed to summon fey for battle in the camp, and was in a small tent preparing. The amount of magic required to control fey, needs a mage to have magic move through them constantly, destroying their bodies. If the battle went on too long, and Edmond did not aid her in controlling their collection of wolf fey, she may die. Edmond felt terror, but did not show it. He went upon the back of his familiar, and lead the lines forward in the crisp ocean air of morning, according to battle plans. They were silent as cats, and swift as foxes.

Edmond was to slowly advance with his foot soldiers, after the arrows of stone and fire had been shot. The yells, and miscellaneous weapons of Celtician men no longer scared them. They had tasted too much victory. After the arrows, behind Edmond, would be the wolf children controlled by Luthid in the camp. Including three Aliki wolf princes they had captured. The carnivoran fey and skilled warriors, tore threw the small army of Isfisceard; and Edmond was untouched as he drew a sword of darkness, while seated high upon his powerful mount. His fairy robes made him impenetrable. And then he heard the sweet song of a woman, and a veil of gold move over the burning town; his eyes met Feon’s, as she cried in fear, attempting to put a charm on the village. It reminded him of how he wanted to cry. For his brethren, for his actions, for his sister, and from the immense pain he felt as a black arrow pierced his familiar from the sky. He became disoriented and no longer absorbing sound for his spells; for a moment, he was weak. Just as quickly as sound had resumed, it dissipated. The battle field began to slow to a stillness, and the sound of hooves approached from the south.

Meriam swooped down upon Nihten, landing in front of Edmond who was gasping his chest on his knees. She looked like Raven, clad in black raven kingdom robes, and black makeup against her pale colours. She was unflinching, like a disappointed mother that saw through their child’s lies. She lifted a silver sword, the gift from Helrem that could cut anything, and pointed the blade at his neck.

“You bitch!” Edomnd yelled, lashing forward with his sword. His intent was to knock away Meriam’s blade. But Meriam held firm; and Edmond’s shadow sword met her own sword, it was cut in half. As time resumed, and her men swept the battle field, They started devastating his troops with their horses. Edmond was shocked, and then Meriam kneed him in the face.

“You disgust me. Those wolf children, and their princes, would have trusted you once. And you make them taste the foul blood of men. You are no mage.” Meriam scolded. Nihten began to peck and pull at his cape, as Meriam tore off his tunic and gloves. Without his robes he could be killed easily. Then he noticed the fey flee form the field, and the two dead Aliki wolves, and their third brother gagging on the blood in his mouth. The fey were free, thus Luthid, his sister, was dead. Edmond dropped his head. He would not come home, and he did not want too. The yelling, and clashing began to sting like his aching heart. The year of sieges resurfacing in his mind. Meriam held her blade high to kill him, and then noticed he was crying.

“Let me at least see my sister, even if she is dead, one last time.” He cried. Then Edmond lifted his head, and yelled for his troops to retreat. Meriam lowered her sword. “I don’t want death anymore. I want my palace bed, and to drink with my uncle, and see my sister wed. I want to howl charms of good dreams into the night, and be the last king Algonquia will ever need. I will leave this land and yours alone. I do not want it anymore. These warm green fjords, come at far to high a cost.” He cried. Meriam lowered her sword. That was exactly what she wanted to hear, and it made her sad. Meriam grabbed Edmond’s collar, and dragged him to his camp. All the soldiers parting ways she walked. As if her presence demanded the men of all three armies to show respect. She gave off an aura of darkness and regality. Meriam walked through the Algonquia camp, and turned their tents to water with only a whisper; and delivered the incapacitated prince to his dead sister’s side. Then she left the way she came, moving calmly across the battle field, and through the burning village. She walked through their house fires, saving their children, and alchemized water to put out the flames. Meriam seemed so steady, its scared people that they could not read her reaction to the battle. Neither joy nor woe. Inside, she was too sad to feel.

On the beach, that was now silent and raging, Meriam found Feon crying and dishevelled upon the pale quartz stone. Feon then ran to the Lighthouse, and up the cliffs. Meriam walked slowly after her. Her stern demeanor softening to one of sorrow, as she followed her friend up the stairs to the peak of the sea wall. Feon wailed into the stormy void, and Meriam walked up, and held her.

“My children and husband died putting out the fire. And Lyra never came back from the woods by the battle field. Down there, by the rocks, an evacuation ship has fallen to a kraken, who was summoned by their song. She must have really liked it. Then the stirring waves approach, and I believe Lyra has been claimed by the sea. Why am I alive Merry? Out of everyone, why me? Why not my children?”

“You protected your village from further danger. That is why you are alive like many of them. I must admit I am so sorry; I wish I could have come sooner. But you did not tell me how long it would take for me to gather strength for this mission, after bearing a child. I also didn’t expect I would love her so much.” Meriam whispered. “I understand, why you do not want to leave them behind. I can’t imagine your loss, Feon.”

“I am happy your family is safe. I am happy the Far North retreats and bargains for forgiveness and friendship. I am happy-” Feon sniffed.

“Do not lie. Even if this battle is over, you have lost so much this day. You may cry, I will be here next to you.” Meriam sniffed. “I will cry with you.”

After a few days of restoring the village and resting, Meriam and her men prepared to leave. The people of Isfisceard and Celticia thanked them, for not only winning a battle, but ending a war. They were willing to leave the past behind them, for the chance at another dawn. Before Her troops left, Meriam walked to the beach. There was white fog that did not block the sun, upon the pristine beach. Laughter of selkies collecting shells echoed across the empty sand. Feon stood by her rock, looking into the perfectly flat sea.

“I came to say good bye; but now I am disturbed by the silence of the sea.” Meriam said.

“Oh, goodbye my friend.” Feon said starring into the fog. “Well wishes to your family; I trust helping with the village’s babes means your daughter won’t starve when you return. Though I know a woman of your noble standing shouldn’t need to worry about such thing. Sorry; I just miss my own babies so much. You know, you were right; I think I want to stop journaling magic texts, and instead write poetry for charms.” Feon said. She was still gazing into the horizonless distance.

“No worries. But, why do you observe nothing so closely?”

“This morning I saw a man on the beach; wearing white and gold fish robes, and with ginger hair twisted into strands that are tied in an elaborate knot. And I hear the fey of the sea thank their Queen father for a song of calmness and mist. I am happy; Lyra will live on, safely around magic.” Feon smiled.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #story 19 #short stories #fantasy #feon #lyra #meriam #nihten #luthid #edmond #eatheltwein #odette #eobreth

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caleblewis94 · 3 years

Text

Preview: The Door To Infinity

Puck was now a forty-two-year-old man who still hadn’t learned his last name due to a grease stain from a slice of pizza obscuring the name on his birth certificate in the no-good year of 1978. Why couldn’t his mother or one of his eleven older siblings have told him somewhere during these last 4.2 decades, you ask? Why because they had all died in an oxygen tank explosion that had completely obliterated the house before the Fire Department could even arrive, of course. What else could have possibly happened? Puck’s mother whose name was literally Mother, and who had once been a nun before she was banned for playing Elton John on the church organ, could actually be called Mother Mother, the mother of Puck, because as the saying goes: once a mother, always a mother. That sure is a mouthful, thank God she’s dead.

Mother returned home from the hospital bringing with her a cart of portable oxygen bottles for her own mother, Mother the first, who suffered from COPD which was exacerbated by the pre-existing condition of being apt to not listen to advice or heed warnings. Upon the delivery of oxygen bottles, Mother Mother the mother of Puck finally thought to cut the umbilical cord. The wailing mucus membrane with the fat, pudgy face of a forty-two-year-old man on the disproportionately large head of a newborn had tripped her on the way up the stairs, reminding her that she had forgotten to “forget” him at the hospital. With a sigh, she cut the umbilical cord with the first thing she could find: a pair of safety scissors. The act was hilarious and took nearly fifteen minutes to complete. Afterwards, she lugged the oxygen bottles in and gave them to her ornery old witch, but minus the cool magical powers, of a mother.

Some say that a mother’s intuition can cause her to feel an impending sense of danger to her own. Perhaps this is why she went lovingly outside, cradling the slimy, writhing middle-aged newborn in her tattooed and cigarette burned arms, and ever so carefully dropped Puck into the first pile of trash she had found lying by the street, which just so happened to be a random bale of hay in a DIY manger that her neighbors had attempted to assemble after purchasing it from Ikea before growing frustrated and throwing it half-finished in the street. One can say this motherly intuition saved the baby named Puck that would one day grow up to become the man named Puck. Then again, her motherly instinct didn’t seem to apply to her other eleven comically-named children.

Mother Mother, the mother of Puck, went back inside her home. Puck no longer cried. Now he sat in the Ikea manger with his arms crossed and his lower lip jutting out. This would become his signature look which would make him quite popular, albeit for mocking purposes, with all of the former high school football stars who would form the majority of his coworkers at the glue factory in his adulthood. Moments after his mother entered the house behind him, he would hear, though he wouldn’t understand because he was a baby and everybody knows babies can’t understand words, his mother shouting at his grandmother in her obnoxious twang of a Country accent that Puck would thankfully never acquire himself.

“God Dayum, you old bat, Cain’t you read?” Mother Mother, mother of Puck shouted.

“I can read, you little skank. I’m just having me a cigarette,” Shouted Mother, mother of Mother Mother the mother of Puck.

“I’m tired of you smokin’ meemaw!” Shouted the shrill voice of one of Puck’s siblings. Judging by the whiny tone, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume it was Kyle.

“That’s too dayum bad.”

“The sign says no smoking, because it could explode if exposed to fire!” Mother Mother, mother of Puck shouted back.

“Then why hasn’t it yet?”

“Comical effect!”

In completely coincidental, and in no means embellished or made-up fashion, the entire house exploded immediately after the joke in the dialogue was wearing thin. The sound of the explosion sounded to Puck like the winner to the 1978 Darwin Awards if they were around in that terrible, no-good year of 1978. Kaboom with a capital KA.

Now, it’s reasonable to ask why Puck? Why this ugly, slimy, miniature spitting image of Donald Trump? Why did this little clump of living smegma survive in lieu of his entire family being incinerated instantly like a bunch of redneck Icaruses that flew directly into the sun because they didn’t believe the Science that said the sun can hurt you? It is because of a thing called fate. Puck wasn’t meant to die that day. For, you see, you beautiful reader, you, Puck was destined for greater things, like developing a nicotine habit he couldn’t quite kick, working in a glue factory overseeing the melting of the horses, and his destiny to die in a hilarious accident involving a shopping cart at the age of 42. As a wise man once said, so it goes.

∞

Puck, now a forty-two-year-old man full of past traumas and experiences that shaped him into the disgruntled, burned-out, and inconsiderate grump that people subconsciously hoped would drop dead, went to the supermarket. What he bought at said supermarket holds no importance whatsoever to the rest of the novel, but for the record was; 19 bushels of crab legs, 30 cans of Ragu spaghetti sauce, 20 gallons of vegetable oil, 12 cartons of increased fat milk, 8 sticks of extra-salted butter, 57 liters of Mountain Dew, 3 bottles of Coca-Cola that had been stuffed under the clearance shelf since 1958, 5 jugs of eggnog, despite it being the middle of April, two of those obnoxiously bright blue lightbulbs for some reason, and a Milkyway Lite because he was trying to watch his figure.

Puck pushed his shopping cart outside. Of course his luck would have had him picking the cart with the broken wheel, causing it to limp along like a sprinter who had torn their ACL and was desperately trying to hobble their way across the finish line. Plus, the fact that he had so much food weighing down the cart didn’t help him steer it any easier. Life was so hard for poor Puck. On his way to his car, Puck was passed by an old lady on one of those automatic shopping carts that truly highlighted the pinnacle of modern invention. The old woman was smoking three cigarettes at the same time, blowing tendrils of smoke through her nostrils like a dragon who had already expended all of his (or her) fire and couldn’t ejaculate any more. She had an oxygen tank on the back of the cart, though she wasn’t using it. Maybe she’ll need it later, Puck thought. Yes, riding an automatic shopping cart around a store for an hour sure is exhausting work.

Puck got to his car and popped the trunk, which promptly swung open much faster than normal, hitting him in the chin because even his car was tired of his shit. In the background was the sound of an explosion, but Puck thought nothing of this. He flung the groceries in the trunk and shut it back, then he promptly took the shopping and left it right there in the middle of the street, despite there being a coral only twenty feet away. It wasn’t that Puck didn’t see the coral—he did—he just decided to rebel. It was his way of sticking it to the proverbial man. Puck got in his car and drove home, the shopping cart looming menacingly in the parking lot, vowing to get revenge on the forty-two-year-old-man.

When Puck got home, he realized that he had forgotten to also purchase a diet Mountain Dew, because—how can he watch his figure without a pound of aspartame in his system?—Puck lovingly kissed his wife goodbye, and by lovingly kissed his wife goodbye, I mean he didn’t kiss her goodbye, he simply said “I forgot something, be back in ten” then left. However, he wouldn’t be back in ten. In fact, he also wouldn’t even be back at the supermarket in ten, traffic was awfully heavy for two in the afternoon on a Sunday. Also, he wouldn’t ever be back because he would be killed in a tragic, yet hilariously Shakespearean way. A way that said, maybe there is a God who occasionally involves himself in the affairs of humans to deliver righteous justice.

Puck went to the self-checkout line again, but this time at least he actually had under ten items. He hated the small talk Cashiers would make with him, especially the pretty twenty-something-year-old ladies who would make blatant attempts to flirt with him by saying things like “Good morning, sir,” “Paper or plastic?” and, worst of all, “Would you like a receipt?” The total on the screen came up to three dollars and twenty-three cents after tax. It was a bit more than he thought it had cost when he was just here half an hour ago, but he was trying to watch his figure, dammit, so he would not and could not be stopped. He paid for the bottle, and also a banana, and left, not even bothering to take the receipt that had printed from the machine.

“Have a nice day,” said a blonde and blue-eyed nineteen-year-old with a smile that conveyed anything but a genuine smile inside. It was a smile that seemed to say that this young lady was going through her own personal troubles and was having a tough time but was trying her best to be strong and kind to others. To anyone else it would be inspiring, but to Puck it was just another attempt to flirt with him. Puck, not wanting to be rude, gave her that kind of sideways smile any suburban white person would give someone they accidentally made eye contact with in public, and walked by, sidestepping a random broken piece of an oxygen bottle by the door. As he crossed the windy threshold that separates the land of groceries from the humid, suburban air of the Greater Atlanta Area, he swallowed the banana in one gulp. It was a fun party trick he had learned in college. He didn’t have to waste time chewing, and everyone loved it. Especially the random man he had accidentally made eye contact with in the process of the great swallow.

Puck walked out into the crosswalk without looking both ways, not that he needed to look both ways, there were stop signs and everybody in the United States obeys stop signs. He dropped the banana peel absentmindedly onto the ground and made his way towards his car.

As Puck approached his car, he bumped into the shopping cart he had left sitting in the street—not the corral, mind you—thirty minutes prior. The cart rolled forward towards him, ready for its vengeance. If it were alive and wielding a knife, it would totally stab Puck right in the abdomen. For far too long Puck had violated its shopping cart family’s rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of being put back in the corral. But, luckily for Puck, it wasn’t alive. It was a shopping cart. In frustration with this minor inconvenience, Puck pushed the cart further into the street with one swift kick.

“I should have used a basket,” He muttered to himself.

However, the shopping cart heard him make this remark. Or it would have heard him if it were alive and had ears or some other method for processing auditory information. And if it were alive and capable of not just processing auditory information but also understanding English, this comment would have been the last straw. The shopping cart would teach him a lesson if it were alive. Puck was so lucky it wasn’t alive.

Puck turned back to his car and fished for his keys in his pocket, except the keys weren’t there. What the hell, Puck thought. I just had them! He checked his pocket again as if he could possibly miss a keychain the size of Timbuktu, and to his utter shock, the keys hadn’t pulled a David Copperfield and magically reappeared. He turned back around to head into the store and angrily ask the poor girl behind the customer service desk if anyone had found and returned his car keys, as if she were the one herself who had misplaced them. However, before he could do so, something glimmering beneath the partially clouded sky caught his eye. His car keys lied in the bottom basket of the shopping cart that, after being kicked, scampered away before settling eighteen feet away from Puck and just a measly two feet from the corral.

You got him now, you devious shopping cart you, the corral would have thought if it were alive and capable of thought. With a long, drawn out sigh, Puck crossed the street. He removed the keys from the lower basket and glanced at the corral which was now literally not even out of his way to return the cart to. The shopping cart was already facing towards the corral like a baby reaching out for its mother. Puck didn’t even have to walk forward at all to return it, all he had to do was lightly push the cart and it would be back in its rightful place. Puck didn��t do this. Instead, he took the cart and placed it back in the middle of the street for some reason, and then went back to his car.

This would have been the final straw for the shopping cart if the shopping cart had any packets of straws left to give, never mind the rude comment about getting a basket instead. Oh, if only the shopping cart were alive and capable of inflicting punishment upon this horrible man with an even horrible-er—or, dare I say—horrible-est name. Puck? More like duck, the shopping cart would have thought, not that the cart would have any prejudices against ducks, it was just a slightly speciest saying it would have learned growing up in a family of shopping carts in the Southern states.

Suddenly, like a car that had hit a pothole at 110 miles-per-hour, causing it to flip over multiple times before flying into a tree, a car driving at 10 mph, ignoring the 5 mph speed limit sign on the wall next to the cross walk, struck the banana peel Puck had left in the middle of the street. The car going twice the speed limit, lost control and swerved to the left, ironically enough while using a blinker. The out of control car collided with the poor shopping cart with an unquenchable thirst for blood and vengeance at the devastating speed of 2 mph. Puck turned around in time to see the accident.

What, scientifically speaking, should have sent the cart forward with the same force as the weak kick Puck had given the cart minutes earlier, oddly enough launched the cart at the speed of 200 mph directly at the man who never put his carts back in the corrals where they belong. Puck didn’t even have time to realize the error of his leaving-shopping-carts-in-the-middle-of-the-street ways, before the cart flew directly into his face, causing his head to explode like the 125,452nd watermelon destroyed by the great philosopher Gallagher, splattering blood all over a man walking past who had made the foolish mistake of wearing a white t-shirt over-confidant in his ability to avoid acquiring a stain, and sparking the obsession with blood of a three-year-old who was watching the whole scene unfold through a pair of binoculars from his parents’ house across the street.

Puck, the youngest son of Mother Mother the mother of Puck, and the youngest grandson of Mother the mother of Mother Mother the mother of Puck, was dead, though his story and misadventures wouldn’t end there. It was a tragic death. Nothing that has ever happened in human history has ever been more tragic than the death of Puck on that cloudy April day in the year of whatever year this is being read in. But don’t be sad—stop crying, society says it’s not cool to cry with empathy—for there was a sign that he had read thousands of times before that read: Please put your shopping cart up, we can’t afford another fatal accident. So, if it makes you feel any better, Puck kind of deserved it.

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chrisevansbabymama · 5 years

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Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.2

Here is the second instalment, at long last! Still using the same gif as the previous, as it’s still the same night. The more time I sat on this chapter, the more time I’ve had to tweak it and change it from the original draft, so it’s still slightly longer than usual - all 4,288 words, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for being so patient.

_______

Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4.2 - He’s Just Not That Into You:

“I gotta say,” Chris said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, suddenly very coy.

It’d been a mere five minutes since they’d left the restaurant and were walking in the direction towards her house. They’d delved in and out of a couple of topics, including Mya and Dodger who Chris confessed to be missing, but was trying his best to not be on ‘daddy mode.’ Kayla found that so cute, and could see he had been honest when he’d said he wanted to get out more and put himself out there, it seemed his internal battle was learning to let go of his dependants. Whatever putting himself ‘out there’ meant for him, she supposed she could only be happy for him.

“Mmmh?” Kayla asked when the pause was a second too long.

“I’ve just...I’ve had a pretty good night tonight,”

Kayla pressed her lips together to hide a smile, her heart fluttering at the way he casually dropped the compliment. Here she was thinking that he would have given up anything to be anywhere else. His warm eyes met hers, but with the look he wore she could discern that there was more to it. She wasn’t going to interrogate him and make it awkward, if he wanted to, she was sure he would say it.

And she hadn’t been wrong about there being more to it; it was more of a feeling than Chris could put into words. It was a weird, funny feeling he felt; elation somewhat laced with anxiety. The good kind.

“It was nice to finally get out of my suite and do something that’s not work related, or taking the kids out,” he said, referring to his two kids – Mya and Dodger.

Then his stomach twisted as guilt washed over him for confessing that he enjoyed his time without them.

“It’s okay,” Kayla looked at him reassuringly. She could sense his aura change in the same way that her siblings’ would when they talked about finding space and a life outside of their kids. “To do things without them, you’re not neglecting them. Call it self-care,”

“Yes ma’am,” he nudged her gently with his elbow, relaxing at her encouragement.

Kayla was smiling too now but she looked ahead in the direction they were heading, “Y’say you had a good night as if you are surprised that I’m good company,”

“Not that, I wasn’t surprised,” he quickly corrected, appreciating the humour to lighten up the threatening sombre mood. “I just mean that I didn’t realise how busy the whole team was, that I never really got a chance to know you properly since you joined us,”

“Relax Hollywood, you’re sweating,”

As usual, comedy was her go-to defensive mechanism so that he couldn’t see the effect his words had on her, because she was more than flattered that he actually enjoyed being alone with her. At least that’s what she was going to take from his statement.

“You are right, I mean this whole thing took off so quickly for me, I haven’t even processed it,”

Kayla recalled to the day she got a call from his assistant Tiffany, asking if she was able to assist on a photo shoot the following day. His previous make-up artist had gone on maternity leave and he had been booked on a last minute cover shoot, so they needed someone to groom just for that one day. But a photo shoot turned into a contract for several projects, then she was hired on for the Lobby Hero and possibly Infinity War press; but the later was still TBC due to his conflicting schedule. She prayed that he was going to do a few rounds of press for it, otherwise her work with him was coming to an end in less than a couple of weeks.

Once he starts Lobby Hero, that was going to be it, and then he would start filming the last Avengers instalment not too long after. He had spoken about going to Boston in the small gap before filming. He was very much a family-oriented man, Kayla accepted the fact that once he was in Boston, he would shut the rest of the world out. Especially his Hollywood life; which she was a part of.

So yes, whilst he didn’t overtly say he only enjoyed spending time with her alone; Kayla convinced herself that he was implying just that, because it was probably the first and last time she would ever be alone with him like this.

Chris nodded, “It’s crazy, it’s such a fast-paced industry you never get a chance to slow down. I’m glad we got that tonight. You were pleasant enough,”

His devil may care tone at the last statement earned him a sharp glare and a heavy sigh, enough to make Chris retract.

“London, I’m joking,” he said quickly putting an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

He was incredibly tactile, this she had learnt very early on since the first time she worked with him; the hugs, the gentle touch on her upper arm when he was trying to squeeze past her, the tap against her leg when he was laughing hysterically. Her favourite touch was when he would gently squeeze or rub her shoulders on a long day of interviews. He would comfort her with a “almost there London,” as if she was the celebrity ready to retire from the repetitive questions.

So this was nothing.

It didn’t feel like nothing though. It felt nice. It felt like she belonged there, flush against him.

When she didn’t respond he wrapped her in his arms in the biggest teddy bear hug he could muster, gently swaying her.

“Talk to me,” he sing-songed.

“Please say something,” he was starting to worry that he’d upset her. “I’m not used to you not having anything to say back,”

Kayla’s voice came out muffled as she breathed against his chest, “You’re so annoying!”

“There she is,” he finally laughed in relief, drawing back from the hug but still held onto her, this time he slid his hands down her arms until her held her hands, studying her but he failed to suss her out.

Please kiss me, she thought, glancing at his lips.

Chris considered it. She was only a few inches away, he could do it seamlessly if he wanted. But he didn’t know if she would like that. She looked away quickly before he could even suggest to her that he was going to kiss her.

But Kayla had only looked away because she noticed the make-up stain she’d left on his shirt when he’d squeezed her against his chest. Too embarrassed to confront it, despite her boldness towards him, she figured that some things were better left unsaid. If she brought attention to it, she knew he would be put off. He’d always been vocal about being a simple guy, liking his women natural - your girl next door type*. Hence why she’d gone for the ‘no make-up, make-up’ look tonight, to look as natural as she could for him.

Patriarchy 2 – 0 Kayla.

“Your hands are cold,” he said quietly deflecting the tension brewing from the assumed rejection, squeezing her hands gently but firm in an attempt to warm them up.

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, shaking off the thought of the very close encounter. “You were right, it’s cold,”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he said shrugging his coat off and swung it around her, he held onto the lapel.

“I didn’t want you to say ‘I told you so,’” she pouted childishly. “You don’t have to do that Chris, you’re gonna get sick - that blazer is not gonna keep you warm. And we can’t have you sick and cancelling all your work commitments,”

“Maybe that’s the plan, I deserve some time off. A little flu never hurt anybody,” he shrugged with a wink.

“No seriously, Keith will kill me,”

He titled his head and studied her, before saying, “Why thank you Chris for this coat, you’re such a gentleman,”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t sound like that,” and then laughed at his attempt at her voice, before finally accepting the coat and sliding her arms into the sleeves, letting out an earnest, “Thank you.”

“And now you can’t say I’m not a nice guy,”

“Wait, what?” Kayla laughed with uncertainty. “I have never said you’re not a nice guy,”

Chris smirked, giving her a side-glance that she couldn’t read, but one thing for sure was it was so sexy.

“I don’t know, sometimes I get a feeling that you hate me,”

“I don’t hate you, I just enjoy knocking you down a pedestal or two. Keeps you grounded,”

He smiled.

“Works like a charm,”

“Besides, if I hated it being on your team, I’d have left within a second, believe me,”

“Well, wouldn’t want that,” he commented, eyeing the coat on her before doing up the buttons that he had disregarded when he had been wearing it. “Want me to get you an Uber home?”

“No, unless I’m boring you?”

“Ha, never that,” he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and eyed the pavement as they paced in unison. “I was thinking that since you’re not going to die of hypothermia now that you have my coat, maybe we should do something spontaneous,”

Kayla eyed him suspiciously, frowning and raising a questioning eyebrow.

Chris looked at her nonchalantly, his eyes glazed with a mischievous shimmer.

“I’m worried,”

He laughed softly, “Nah it’ll be fun, nothing to worry about,”

“You’re making me nervous, how spontaneous? On a scale of 1-10?”

“Uhm...8...”

“Go on,” her tone was still doubtful.

“Let’s go catch a film,”

“I don’t understand,” she was dumbfounded.

“I really don’t wanna end the night,” coyness really suited him. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, his face turning a shade of pink again. “Remember when we were teenagers – well, I don’t know about you, but I used to sneak out at night and I’d always make sure I’d stay out as late as possible and make the most of it. I knew if my mom caught me out, I’d never be allowed again for a while…tonight’s kinda like that. But instead of my mom, work’s going to occupy my time and I might not get a chance to do this again until I finish Lobby Hero. So if you still care to spend the rest of the evening with me; what do you say we go watch a film?”

Kayla felt sad. His face was a shimmering look of hope, like a child asking to go to Disneyland; which was the source of her sadness. Why did going to the theatre excite him so much? Something so normal and regular to her, and took for granted, for Chris normalcy was a luxury, it seemed.

“Uhmm...I thought you said spontaneous,” there she was again with the humour, she cringed immediately, realising this wasn’t the time.

“Uhmm yeah it is, for me anyway....” he shrugged casually and looked ahead.

“Chris?” she wanted to ask him if he was okay. Maybe the magazine event he’d been too had been a negative reinforcement of the cons of his job, as he had mentioned earlier that he barely knew anyone there and had to endure it, in the name of good press.

“Mhhh?”

“Yes,” she said, she deflected. “I mean, yes, let’s go watch a film. I’m a little overdressed though,”

He smiled so brightly that her concern for his wellbeing vanished, “You sure?” she nodded. “Honey, we’ve both been overdressed since that restaurant,”

“Maybe I should go home and change my shoes and get my coat so you can have yours back,”

“Everything you just said defeats the whole ‘spontaneous’ part, I usually have to go to the theatre dressed in a hoodie and baseball cap. I go miles to be incognito, tonight, I’m living on the wild side,” he retrieved his phone from his trousers pocket. “I’m getting an Uber as we speak,”

Kayla considered this: never imagining the first time alone with Chris in a dark room would be in a movie theatre. She had to admit, it would be fun to sit in such a close proximity in the dark. They’d both missed their opportunity to kiss the other just several minutes ago; maybe fate was giving them another chance.

“ See anything you like, London?” Chris shifted from his window seat to the middle, minutes later as they sat in the back of the Uber exec. He held the phone so they could both see the movie listings.

If she was going to be honest, none of the films stood out for her but this wasn’t about her. So she looked on as he scrolled slowly, thinking more about her strategy on dealing with being in the dark lit room with him. What better way to get up close and personal than a film? It was the perfect set up for that missed kiss; she pictured it so vividly: his arm would surreptitiously snake around her shoulder as he pretended to yawn and disregard the film before making a move on her. She had seen this scene many times in films that she was even surprised Chris was going to be this predictable.

Annihilation, Irreplaceable You, Peter Rabbit, she read the listings…Fifty Shades Freed.

“Game Night?” he offered after several debates.

Kayla looked at the poster on his screen and glanced up at Chris, “So much for spontaneity, Chris no offence but if you were to die tonight and I was to read your eulogy about the very last film you saw, you want it to be this?”

“Whoa,” he was genuinely startled. “There’s a lot to unpack there. First of all...actually you are right. I told you I don’t get out much. And second, that’s so deep, why does someone have to die tonight?”

“You thought I was going to get hypothermia,”

“Are you suggesting we watch something a little steamy?” he cocked his eyebrows playfully and gave her a look that she recognised instantly. He was back in form. “Fifty Shades Freed? Is that what you want?”

Kayla shook her head with no witty comeback to rally with him.

“I haven’t seen the other ones,”

“I should hope so, not suitable for kids,”

“Game Night it is, only because you’re annoying me and I’m not gonna give you what you want,”

Chris ignored the double entrendre. Begrudgingly.

Kayla’s imagination has always been very active since her youth. She’d learned to be imaginative as a means to escape from a young age, hence why she has always gravitated towards creative subjects and eventually a career in the arts. When she’d imagined the exciting prospect of being alone in the dark with Chris, what was going to ensure seemed clearly written in the stars. Though a small part of her thought the idea was too far fetched, it became more promising when she realised that they were the only ones in the late showing of Game Night in the theatre.

The ticket purchasing was strategically planned to avoid Chris being spotted by any chance. Judging by how seamless every stage was, she became more optimistic that halfway through the movie he was going to make a move on her, like they did in the movies. She wondered if the sign would come when he either placed his bag of popcorn on the floor or on the seat next to him, yawn and sneakily wrap an arm around her shoulders. Then she imagined he would naturally whisper something in her ear, making her giggle before lifting her chin with his index finger and finally kissing her.

And so it happened:

Half way through the film, he placed his almost empty bag of popcorn on the floor and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Her heart was thudding, leg jiggling nervously, so she crossed them and tried to act normal, as if she didn’t even know what was happening. It was surreal, the adrenalin charged through her that she didn’t even know what to do anymore and feared she wouldn’t give him the kiss of her life.

So Lauren was right. He does like me, she thought, making a mental note to thank her and apologise profusely for dismissing her claims.

“Oh man,” he stifled a yawned and muttered under his breath, becoming increasingly restless.

Everything was going according to plan. And imagination.

A few seconds passed and she didn’t feel an arm on her shoulder, nor did he inch near her. Instead, he inched away, resting his elbow on the other armrest and his chin on his clenched fist. The arm around her shoulder never came. She kept her eyes glued on the screen, watching on in a haze, barely concentrating. She felt sick.

She’d done the calculations, and this wasn’t the outcome she expected.

But then again, Maths was never her strongest subject.

She soon realised he hadn’t been trying to flirt or intend to make a move on her. His eyes were shut and chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She watched him for a few seconds, thinking it was a sick twisted joke, maybe he would crack and burst out into a laugh, and yell “gotcha,” but he was actually in a deep sleep. He didn’t flinch or budge at the reverberating sounds throughout the rest of the film.

That’s when she knew that dream was over. There only so many disappointments one could take and keep sticking around with hope.

“Chris...Chris...” he heard her faint voice in the distance, ignoring it because he thought it was another one of his dreams where she made a regular appearance. He felt a hand on his shoulder, her voice speaking again. “C’mon, we have to go,”

“Hmmm?” He sat up, opening his eyes as they prickled from the glare from the screen ahead. He looked around and saw her. A delightful sight, even if it was slightly dim. “Kayla?”

“Good morning,” she laughed.

What a sound to wake up to, he thought.

“Morning?” he instantly panicked, his mind automatically thinking of Mya and Dodger.

“I’m joking, the movie’s finished. I didn’t wanna wake you up earlier, you looked really comfortable.”

“How much did I miss?”

“Like the last hour,”

“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing his hair back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d sleep,”

“It’s okay,”

“I can’t believe I made you come out to enjoy a movie by yourself,” he grimaced as he voiced his concern, cringing at the thought. “I��m really sorry, I owe you. So much for spontaneity huh? You should have left my ass.”

“Chris, relax. It’s fine; it’s been a long day for you. I sleep through a film all the time,” she waved a hand dismissively.

Still, he felt bad. He had wanted to spend the entire night in her company, (not even in a sexual kind of way) and he had jeopardised that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said to quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Still half asleep,”

“Okay Sleeping Beauty, shall we go?”

“Let’s,”

The wait outside had been icy and awkward. On Kayla’s part, it was the affirmation that he wasn’t that into her, that kept playing on her. She didn’t know how to act around him anymore; scared to give too much of herself away, even though she was already in too deep with her feelings. She now had to negotiate a healthy balance between being herself, as always but not allowing him to sway her. Or flirt with him.

On Chris’ part, he felt like he had let her down; it wasn’t about the kiss – he didn’t suspect it, it was the fact that he had kept her out all night only to fall asleep. He wouldn’t even blame her if she was offended. He worried she would never subject herself to something like this again; imagining that she thought the worst of him. Had it been a date, would he have fallen asleep? Even worse, he felt embarrassed, and he couldn’t even figure out why. Maybe at the realisation that maybe his life was as boring as everyone was implying; so he asked himself, who would want to date that?

Chris insisted on ordering them an Uber each, but Kayla politely insisted she could get her own. Being the chivalrous charmer he was, Chris didn’t back down easily, but Kayla took the initiative and just booked them both a ride. The drama was unnecessary, this was New York; right in the heart of Manhattan where taxis were aplenty.

But they’d both been cunning; using the Uber excuse to buy more time with each other. As if they had both accepted it was their last goodbye, a closure on the feelings they had harboured for each other. And maybe if they stuck it out a little longer, one of them would bite the bullet and make a move?

“I should give you this,” she said sliding off his coat. “Thank you for letting me wear it tonight,”

“Don’t do that,” he waved a hand. “Take it, it’s cold,”

“There’ll be a heater in the car, I’ll be fine Chris,”

He drew close to her again, politely putting it back on and redoing the buttons she had undone to give it back to him, “Keep it on,”

She sighed, giving in quickly, “Okay, I’ll bring it back on Monday,”

“Okay,” he could careless.

“Here goes your ride,” he squeezed her shoulders as the car pulled up in the waiting bay.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. And thank you for the dinner, I owe you,”

“Yes, you do. You owe me that Pad Thai,” he winked playfully before hugging her briefly. “See you on Monday, London,”

He opened the door for her, guiding her in with his hand on the small of her back.

“Bye Chris,”

It wasn’t long before the car was circling Columbus Circle, routing back to home. Above all, albeit the anti-climactic theatre ordeal, she’d had a good night with Chris. Far beyond her expectations, so what was it going to hurt if they were only going to be friends?

It was all replaying like a movie reel; the laughter, the touches, the anecdotes and his scent. The way he set his eyes on. The way he listened when she spoke. His scent on her, she breathed it in – his coat a vivid reminder of him. A vivid reminder of the way he would wrap his muscled arms around her and never wanted him to let go.

She suddenly remembered the huge make-up stain she’d left on his shirt and cringed.

The moment was over.

She felt her phone vibrate in her bag; she had ignored it the entire night, never one to be glued to it when she was out. That was a lie, she used to be glued to it; always one to take pictures for Instagram until she got bored of over sharing and instead shared her work on it, occasionally peppering her feed with food snaps, selfies, with her family or a cheesy snap on holiday.

She wondered if Chris would follow her on Instagram…or if she had the balls to follow him first.

She took her phone out, her friend’s Instagram post notification the source of the vibration. She scrolled down on the notification centre, opting to read Lauren’s copious messages that she’d missed earlier on when Chris had joined her at the sushi place.

9:49pm

Lauren: Sorry babe, won’t be making it tonight. I’ve been regurgitating my guts all evening. Have fun.

Lies, Kayla thought, trusting Chris that she was probably entangled under the sheets somewhere with Seb.

9:50pm

Lauren: Oh yeah, I purposely forgot to ask Keith and Tiff to come along. Ooops.

9:54pm

Lauren: Because I lied, I’m not sick. I decided not to come, and thought I’d leave Tiff and Keith out of it too. I thought you kids needed the evening to yourselves and I didn’t want to play 3rd wheel tonight. I do it all the time, not doing it tonight. You kids have fun.

9:55

Lauren: So I hope your inadvertent date with Chris goes well.

10:35

Lauren: ....you’re welcome.

11:01

Lauren: No reply? I’m guessing you’re “playing hide the zucchini”? Thank me later.

11:01

Lauren: ps. safety first kids. Love ya xxx

She shook her head in disbelief; too tired to figure out whether she should be angry or laugh. It was less funny now that she knew for sure that Chris only had platonic feelings towards her. She now needed to speak to Lauren sometime in person, figure out a way to politely tell her to stop bringing Chris up. She needed the closure.

As if on cue, his name popped up on the banner of her screen; a strange sight and brand new occurrence. They had never directly communicated with each other via phone, even though they had each other’s numbers. It was always Lauren that organised non-work related occasions, and if it was to do with work, she dealt with Keith and Tiffany. Never him.

His very first text message to her said:

Chris: Let me know when you get in. Thank you again for tonight; I owe you big time, especially for falling asleep.

Kayla: Likewise. Honestly, don’t worry about it lol

She wanted to shut him down, be dismissive but subtle and polite. She wasn’t going to do this again.

Closure, closure, closure, she chanted in her head.

Chris: I insist. I’m a man of my word.

And just like that, her resolution to get over him disappeared. How could she?

Chapter 5

_______________

Disclaimer: Gif not my own

Tags: @thegirlwithpaperheart @disaster-rose @youlifetime @mississippifangirl @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours@dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations @daybreak96 @l-auteuse @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab@melaninmarvel @milkymil-k @dyckvandyke @prettymuchboodup @i-fear-neither-death-nor-pain @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun

#Daddy Hair Care #daddy chris evans #Chris Evans #chris evans gif #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #Chris Evans fan fic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x woc #chris evans x black reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #Chris Evans imagine

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sobstoriesandshitposts · 4 years

Text

2019 has already ended but here’s a list (+ my unasked for opinions) of all the books I’ve read in 2019 in chronological order, Part 2.

((Disclaimer: this is a shitpost for myself and highly overrun by my emotions — I shall not be held accountable if my opinion is taken seriously. And I know it’s 2020 already, but procrastination is prevalent.))

By the way, here’s part 1, if you’d like.

8. The Dragon Republic

Rin was an absolute mess the entire book and god knows how frustrated I got with the dumb decisions™ she made every step of the way. But the poor girl was going through some shit and she picked it all up at the end, so I’m ready for the third installment, and to finally, see the end of the poppy war. Also, THE THIRD BOOK HAS BEEN NAMED “THE BURNING GOD” and I stan. But generally, book 2 wasn’t very memorable to me, and I don’t remember it very well anymore so it was eh.

Characters: 3/5

Plot: 3.5/5

General feel things factor: 3.5/5

9. An Ember in the Ashes

God, I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED BY THIS BOOK. I almost hate it. I might actually. It’s definitely the book I dislike most of 2019. Ok listen, I’m pretty sure I dislike it because I hadn’t been in the right mindset to read it, and it just ended up not being the kind of book I was looking for in terms of plot and mood. Maybe it was intentional, but everything ended up being really dreary and boring and so underwhelming to me. I didn’t feel anything for the story nor for the characters (whose names I no longer remember). I mostly wanted to follow the first girl’s story rather than the other two characters (even though honestly, I didn’t care for what was happening to her either) so I ended up skimming half of the book and then forcing myself to finish the rest of it. Why didn’t I just DNF it? I don’t know too. I was probably going through some kinda mood.

Characters: 1/5

Plot: 1.5/5

General feel things factor: 1/5

10. To Kill a Kingdom

NOW. I’ve seen some reviews on this, and boy, were they mixed — but let’s ignore them, because here is my significant opinion: it was cute. I think tkak is just a simple, short fantasy-romance that got out a cute couple and was done with it. I loved Lira’s character, idk there was just something about her dryness (hah, even though she’s a siren-) that I really enjoyed. Although I have to say, the main guy character had been rather bland, and I don’t remember his name anymore. But anyway, I liked the first-meeting-girl-slaps-boy-scene. I liked the pirates. I liked the romance. I liked the straight-forwardness. I liked the happy ending. (And after AEITA, this was exactly what I needed.) So 10 points to Alexandra Christo.

Characters: 3.5/5

Plot: 3.5/5

General feel things factor: 3.5/5

11. An Enchantment of Ravens

SO. DAMN. ADORABLE. Some people hate enchantment, some people don’t. I personally absolutely loved it. I found Isobel and Rook so cute together, and everything was just really soft and fluffy. Like tkak, it’s just a short and sweet romance, but it leans more towards the fairytale vibes — and I was vibing. I found both the main characters so whimsical and dramatic and ridiculous and they were just so ENJOYABLE to read about. The plot was simple and to the point and it didn’t meander when it didn’t have to — so I don’t care what anyone has to say, an enchantment of ravens is probably one of my favorite reads in 2019 and I adore it. (And the line “Now stop making me feel things.” is just iconic to me. I mean, please, Rook.)

Characters: 4.5/5

Plot: 4/5

General feel things factor: 4.5/5

12. Graceling

Alright, so this is the book I ended on before I stopped reading, aka stopped ignoring the reality of my exams, to start studying for my exams. I found Po and Katsa cute together and I enjoyed their dynamics, but they got a little boring towards the end. I think their relationship got too mature and serious for me (or maybe exams looming over my head just made me really depressed) so they lost the childish charm about them that had drawn me in in the first place. But that doesn’t change the fact that Katsa is an absolute badass, that the entire scene in the courtyard where they fought is iconic, and that the truth behind Po’s sight at the end made me cry. Wasn’t my favourite, but graceling was enjoyable, which was exactly what I needed to feel satisfied to end on, and not too drawn into a world that I needed another one to replace it after it ended. Thank you Graceling, for saving whatever had been left of my grades.

Characters: 2.5/5

Plot: 3/5

General feel things factor: 3/5

13. The Cruel Prince (& The Wicked King & The Queen Of Nothing)

This is definitely my favourite book (and series) of 2019 and I was ruined by it. I actually had to reread the cruel prince, because the first time I did, I didn’t enjoy it and that didn’t sit right with me — I mean, come on, Holly Black is my queen and there’s no way I’d dislike a 4.2 star book of hers. And boy, was that one of the best decisions I’ve made in 2019. I was so immersed in Jude’s world and everything she was about to face; I rooted for her the whole way. I loved her character so, so much (for once, we get an mc that is actually smart). I loved Cardan so, so much. Honestly, I truly liked all of the characters. And Jurdan? I live for that sh*t. I was completely floored by this trilogy and I. Still. Want. More. (+ The quotes from this series??? Just freaking iconic.)

Characters: 5/5

Plot: 5/5

General feel things factor: 5/5

14. Sorcery of Thorns

Ah, yes, another one of the books I was disappointed by. After An Enchantment of Ravens, I had been so excited to read the second work of Margaret Rogerson, but it wasn’t what I thought it’d be. I really enjoyed it at first, but around the half way point I started to get bored and almost DNFed it. And yes, I am aware that Sorcery is meant to be an epic fantasy and is different from Enchantment, but I just thought that the characters would still have that whimsical, ridiculous flair that had been done so well in Enchantment — but the character building here kind of just fell flat for me. Although there were moments I did enjoy reading about Elisabeth and Nathaniel, I just didn’t really see the chemistry between them and I couldn’t appreciate their interactions and banter much. I felt like Silas was just a cookie-cutter “cold on the outside but warm on the inside” character as well. Okay, I’m being extra harsh on this book because of my crushing disappointment from great expectations, but actually, Sorcery had been a pretty good read that started off well. Although the middle got a little dry, i think it picked itself up again at the end and I felt compelled to finish it. Plus, Silas’ moment made me tear up even when I hadn’t expected myself to, so, that’s always a bonus.

Characters: 3/5

Plot: 3/5

General feel things factor: 3/5

15. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue

So whimsical. So funny. So light-hearted — yet it had the surprise punch-you-in-the-gut feels. I spent a good deal of time laughing over Henry’s antics (when he ran naked around Versailles???? Oh my god, what are you doing, Henry?) and his efforts at trying to be a decent human-being. It was honestly, a very heart-felt and romantic story, which really has me torn up because how does Mackenzi Lee weave in so many heavy, important themes like abuse, trauma, racial and sexual discrimination and mental illness, and still make it such a light-hearted story — that was done well? (And lets not forget how she’s also managed to include some serious Fullmetal Alchemist vibes in there complete with murders and violins and pirates. Geez.) She’s a genius that’s how. The number of times I’ve almost cried, but was saved by Henry’s comments is just- ugh. If there’s any book I’d recommend just for being a damn good book, it’d be this one because, wow, was it good.

Characters: 4.5/5

Plot: 4/5

General feel things factor: 4.5/5

16. Carry On

We have now reached my final book of 2019: it was an absolute delight and one of my favourites. I just loved the characters, like they were so enjoyable to read about. I mean, I felt like Simon had a stick up his ass for a good portion of the beginning, but he softened up later on and my god, Baz. I loved his character so much. And the pining? HELL YES. And then, of course, his refusal to admit that he was pining to anyone else but himself. Simon and Baz were just extremely shippable, and I was ready to gobble up whatever I could of their romance. So fluffy, so ridiculous. Rainbow Rowell also made good use of the switching POVs. I normally dislike it when author’s switch the perspectives because it tells a side of the story that I really don’t care for (ahem, an ember in the ashes...) but Rowell did it so damn well. Even Agatha’s pov was enjoyable. She provided a different perspective on things compared to the other characters and I actually really liked her “I don’t want to have anything to do with this bullshit” take on things. It was fresh, and funny, even if she was being an ass half the time. So, Carry On? It’s a yes from me.

Characters: 4/5

Plot: 3/5

General feel things factor: 4/5

And finally, my 3 DNFs, in which I will rant about them just a little:

1) Wicked Fox

Didn’t like the writing style. Normally I don’t notice writing styles much because I’m just not that good with the technicalities, but Wicked Fox’s bothered me and I just couldn’t enjoy it. Also, I wasn’t in the mood to be patient, so I just decided to drop it.

2) Serpent & Dove

I actually really liked the beginning, but I think I wasn’t in the right headspace and I started to get bored by it, so I stopped reading. I’ll probably pick it up again in the future when I’m in the mood for it though :)

3) Throne or Glass

My god. I picked this up purely as tribute for Feysand — which, I guiltily admit, I really enjoyed — but- I- I couldn’t get past the first five chapters of tog. Putting aside the writing style (Why! Are! There! So! Many! Exclamation! Marks!), I didn’t feel anything for any of the characters, and any of the scenes. I don’t know what it is, but everything just felt so disconnected from me, and I had an inkling that I wasn’t going to care about what happened to the mc, or what happened with her and the other two (who I presume are) love interests because even on first impression, and a little past that, both seemed so bland to me. Sigh.

That’s it for the list; if you’re still here, good on you.

#the dragon republic #an ember in the ashes #to kill a kingdom #an enchantment of ravens #graceling #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #sorcery of thorns #the gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue #carry on

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commentaryvorg · 5 years

Text

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 4.2

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time, as we began chapter 4, Gonta has become even more desperate to be useful to everyone, Monokuma gave out another motive that makes no sense as a motive from his point of view, Keebo became partially responsible for every future death through inaction, the true nature of this situation was hiding in plain sight in Shuichi’s lab, and Kaito vowed to protect his sidekicks despite having no way to guarantee it (because he’s also become even more desperate to be useful to them).

Kaito also found a Flashback Light, so we’re about to do that. Everyone’s gathered in the dining hall except Kokichi.

Himiko: “I guess… he must be a real pro at hide-and-seek. I magically looked all over the school, but he was nowhere to be found.”

And you’d think Himiko would be good at finding hiding places, because her, uh, magic, often involves secret passageways and hidden compartments. So I guess Kokichi really is just that good at hide and seek.

Tsumugi: “But I’m still uneasy about these Flashback Lights… Are they really okay to use?”

I don’t know, Tsumugi, you tell us.

Anyway, Kokichi shows up.

Kokichi: “Unfortunately, I couldn’t use the card key.”

Shuichi: “You couldn’t use it?”

Kokichi: “Yeah, I had no idea where to use it, so I just gave up instead.”

This is of course a lie, and Kokichi did in fact find where to use the card key and view the outside world. So now’s the time to talk about this.

It could be argued that at this point, Kokichi falls into despair upon seeing the outside world and genuinely wants the mercy kill outcome that he gets Gonta to try and achieve. But that cannot be the truth, because he deliberately outs Gonta in the middle of the trial while everyone is still pretty sure Kokichi did it, and later outright shows everyone else the outside world, even though the whole point of the mercy kill would have been to prevent them ever seeing that. That interpretation just does not make sense, and I’ll be giving more detailed and precise reasons why as we get into the case.

But even if we ignore the events of this particular chapter’s case and the theoretical attempted mercy kill, him falling into despair here still doesn’t fit. See, Kokichi has made it very clear by now that he’s aware this killing game is being put on as a show for people’s entertainment. His entire plan in chapter 5 hinges on the fact that there must be an audience; if he’d started believing here in chapter 4 that everyone was dead, that plan wouldn’t make any sense. And he’s clearly already working on that plan during this chapter, based on his hints at being the mastermind and the fact that he gets Miu to build him some things that he’ll need for it, most notably Electrobombs.

So, since Kokichi is basically certain about his audience theory by this point, when he sees that the outside world is supposedly completely barren and uninhabitable – therefore there’s no people who are watching this? – he has to conclude that it must be a lie.

Upon seeing a supposed apocalyptic world outside that’s really just a big lie to make an exciting story for people’s entertainment, he might even have started to wonder what else is a lie – everything from the Flashback Lights? Maybe even their very talents?

This isn’t the moment Kokichi falls into despair. This is the moment he figures out that everything is fiction.

Kokichi was already angry at the gamemakers for forcing him into this game he hated just for the sake of other people’s entertainment, and he was already vaguely intending to claim to be the mastermind as part of getting some kind of revenge on them. All this would do is make him even more furious at them for fucking around with him on an even deeper level. It’s very like Kokichi to throw a tantrum when somebody else uses lies against him, like he will in this chapter’s trial. So he’s now more determined than ever to get some kind of petty revenge and beat the gamemakers at their own lying, manipulating game.

Kokichi: “Oh, hey, the Flashback Light. Lemme see that. Kaito doesn’t have the balls to turn on the switch—”

Kaito: “Of course I do!!!”

Good job making it look like you’re manipulating Kaito to do whatever you want him to when he was literally about to turn it on anyway, Kokichi.

Maki: “Similar meteorite impacts happened millions of years ago… All living organisms on Earth were annihilated…”

Yeah, no, that’s not what happened. A mass-extinction, sure, but not literally everything. Even if it was a fictional, more intense meteorite impact than the one that wiped out the dinosaurs, I still don’t believe it’d wipe out everything – some organisms are really stubborn little fuckers. And if it did wipe out absolutely everything, then the chances of life arising again, on the same planet, are astronomically small. The person writing this story apparently doesn’t really know their science and is just going for spectacle.

Kaito: “Then what happened to that plan? The one to save the world from the meteorites?”

Tsumugi: “Oh right… I just remembered that…”

Sure, you definitely just remembered it and didn’t know about it this whole time because you came up with it.

Miu: “Sh-Shut up! I’m tired of this! Let us outta here! Let us out!”

Meanwhile Miu has apparently snapped. Based on her reaction here, this might well be the moment she starts seriously plotting murder. I actually find it pretty neat that, for once, we have a character who decides to commit a murder not because of any chapter-specific motive but just because the overall stress of being stuck in here with the constant threat of being murdered has driven them over the edge. Chapter-specific motives shouldn’t have to be necessary. Admittedly, in a game like this one where there’s a much greater sense of co-operation than in most, it figures Monokuma would think they are necessary, so it also figures that it’d be one of the only two paranoid and non-co-operative people who’d snap in this way.

(Kokichi already snapped basically as soon as the game began, but he didn’t consider becoming blackened because he knew that’d just be playing the game and losing.)

Gonta: “Miu, calm down! It’s okay! Gonta will protect you!”

AAAGFHDSGHDSGH

Kokichi: “We probably need one more… Everything will start to connect after we remember one more thing…”

Meaning that, based on what he saw of the outside world, Kokichi’s already put all the pieces together and figured out most of the “story”.

Kokichi: “That’s why, if the meteorites really did fall on us, anything could’ve happened. A mysterious virus could’ve spread, or some weird technology… Or even an unknown substance brought to Earth that could’ve bent time and space—”

And, see, this doesn’t come across as a Kokichi who’s secretly in despair because he believes the outside world is in ruins. If that were the case, he’d just be saying something like “hey, maybe the meteorites really did wipe out humanity, who knows?”, because he likes to drop hints about truths he’s figured out like that. Instead of that, he’s listing all these fantastical possibilities which have no definite correlation with what he saw out there – because he’s figured out this is all fiction, and therefore he knows that any of these things really could be where the writers want the story to go from here.

Kaito: “Tch, that’s just stupid! It’s like the setting for some third-rate anime or game!”

And Kaito is unintentionally helping out with the implication that this is what Kokichi’s really thinking about.

Kokichi: “Do you think I’m making this up? But then, how would you explain Flashback Lights, Exisals, and even Monokuma? We may be used to it *now*, but that kind of stuff goes against common sense, y’know? Which means… it wouldn’t be too farfetched if any of the things I mentioned actually happened.”

Kokichi’s laying this on thick. He’s never really talked about this kind of thing to this extent before. This is making me much more convinced that I’m right in my assumption that he just recently figured out this whole thing is fiction. The reason I came up with that idea in the first place is that it’s the only thing that makes any sense, not because I knew of anything in particular hinting at it being the case – but his behaviour here, the first time we see him after he’d have figured it out, definitely seems to be a deliberate hint towards it.

Gonta: “Oh, before we go, Gonta put manhole cover back how it was. If we wanna challenge underground again, this time Gonta definitely—”

Kokichi: “Ah-haha, no-one’s dumb enough to challenge that dump again!”

So I wonder – did Kokichi see the outside world from the door at the end of that tunnel? Because that might explain why he would want to discourage people from trying the tunnel again now, if he knows what’s at the end of it and wants to keep everyone from falling into despair until he’s ready to have that happen as part of his plan.

Shuichi: (We can’t keep going like this… We need to find a way out. I need to solve all of these mysteries.)

Not just you, Shuichi! Yes, you’re the detective, but almost everyone’s started relying on you so much that they’ve forgotten there’s things they could do to help, too, leading to you forgetting that you’re not alone in this.

And now it’s Free Time.

Kaito: “Meteorites all over the world… No! There’s no point thinking about it right now! I’m better off thinking of something else!”

Kaito may be freaking out a little about the possible end of the world. But, being Kaito, he’s refusing to let himself dwell on that and trying to stay positive! By… ignoring the problem, but, I mean, what else can you do in this situation.

(He’s in Keebo’s lab for some reason. I guess he’s interested in all the sci-fi technology in here. Shame it never occurs to him to try and encourage Keebo to actually use this stuff.)

Tsumugi: “A biohazard from a mysterious virus spreading… Infecting people with an unknown disease…”

Excuse me, Tsumugi? I know this is just a reference to some videogame or other, but man, that sure is appropriately timed with the recent revelation about the meteorites, now, isn’t it. She’s deliberately foreshadowing while passing it off as one of her usual arbitrary references.

Gonta: “What can Gonta do… to be useful for everyone? Gonta think he could protect everyone… in underground passage! Gonta… no can take it anymore! Gonta not wanna lose anyone else!”

Oh Gonta; he just wants to be useful and stop anyone else from dying. He’s not even thinking at all about the meteorites next to this much more immediate issue.

Himiko is in Tenko’s lab! Aww. (While apparently being unfazed by the hidden Monokuma that happens to be dancing right by her feet.)

And she’s actually who I’m about to have Shuichi hang out with. He needs to have one more new hangout partner this chapter, and of the remaining people he’s not already been hanging out with who are generally pleasant people (on the surface), Himiko seems like the one Shuichi would have the most active reason to go for. After the hell she went through last chapter, and especially since he helped encourage her through it during the trial, it seems plausible that he might want to continue reaching out to her and trying to be her friend. Plus, she’s the other final survivor, so it seems appropriate. Also, there… may be one other reason I’m picking her, but we’ll get to that next chapter.

Himiko: “Nyeeeh…”

Shuichi: “Himiko?”

Himiko: “Nyeeeh…”

…Unfortunately, doing Himiko’s early FTEs at this particular time is not quite in line with canon, since they’re written for depressed-Himiko and not positive-Himiko. I imagine most first-time players who choose to hang out with Himiko during their main playthrough also get this awkward whiplash, because probably most of them don’t do so before this point. I know I said I’d keep the FTEs in line with canon as much as possible, but it can’t really be helped in this case. Still, the actual topics she talks about are something she’d have talked about regardless of when it happens; the only awkward part is her attitude about doing so.

Himiko: “It’s real magic, okay? You get it, right?”

Shuichi: “Real magic, sure.” (I feel like this conversation will go nowhere if I disagree…)

Himiko: “No, it’s magic. How many times do I have to tell y—”

Pfft, she’s so used to having to correct everyone that she’s genuinely caught off-guard when someone plays along. Having Tenko be all in on her magic thing must have been very refreshing for her, even if she was under too much of a depression haze to really feel happy about it.

Shuichi: (Isn’t it strange that such a lazy girl would go through so much work for a magic trick?)

Shuichi’s questioning this, but Himiko has occasionally mentioned her reasons for being a magi – uh, mage – before. She wants to make people smile, just like Kaede did!

Himiko: “A typical amateur question. You don’t need annoying preparations for magic.”

You really do, though. She must put a lot more work into her magic than you’d think to look at her. (And even if it was real magic, presumably you’d need lots of practice to get good at spellcasting, right?)

Shuichi: “You have a master, Himiko?”

Himiko: “Nyeh…? Did I not tell you?”

Shuichi: “This is the first time I’m hearing it. So there are apprentice magicians?”

Himiko: “Hm, that’s right. My master was an amazing archmage…”

Himiko’s master is going to be the topic of the rest of her FTEs, but the fact that he exists is basically the only thing we learn from this first one. It abruptly ends right after this because Himiko gets mad at Shuichi calling her a magician again.

Nighttime! Which means…

Shuichi: “It’s time for training!” (I feel like I haven’t done it in a long time… Alright, to the courtyard!)

Training! Shuichi’s so into it now! Kaito would be proud.

On the way out, he runs into Gonta.

Gonta: “But Gonta think it best not to go out at nighttime.”

Look at him worrying about everyone’s safety. Don’t worry, Gonta – Shuichi, Kaito and Maki would protect each other if anything happened!

Shuichi: “But the promise I made to Kaito is really important to me. I can’t break it.”

It’s adorable how much this means to him and how determined he is to keep it up already. Shuichi and Maki (and Himiko) will absolutely continue their training every day when they escape from here too.

Gonta: “Gonta not know you make such important promise to Kaito. Gonta… so useless.”

Aww, Gonta. He’s had nobody that he’s grown close enough to (FTEs aside) in a genuine enough way that he could have made that kind of promise with. Not only is he feeling useless, but even though he considers everyone here a friend, he must still be feeling kind of alone in his uselessness.

Shuichi: “Not at all, Gonta. Don’t worry about it. We all know how much you care about us.”

We do! Knowing that already helps in terms of emotional support, Gonta! You don’t need to go risking your life to be useful when you’re already important just by being you!

Gonta: “Shuichi, Gonta come to decision!”

…But that’s exactly what he’s just decided to do.

Gonta: “Gonta will sleep good tonight and prepare for tomorrow! Good night!”

And he’s suddenly so much happier now he’s figured out a way he can be useful, even though it’s this.

Kaito: “Ah, good. You’re here, bro!”

Shuichi: “Yeah… it’s been so long since the three of us have done this.”

The three of them have only done this together once, in fact – and yet they still feel so much like a trio by this point that Shuichi’s talking about it in a way that makes it seem like they’ve done so more often than that already. I love these three so much.

Maki: “…It’s because Kaito was scared of ghosts.”

Which is to say, it was Tsumugi’s fault. She cheated us out of more adorable training trio scenes. Boo.

Kaito: “First off, 100 sit-ups! You guys better get pumped up!”

Yeah, they better, because Kaito’s… not going to.

Shuichi: “One… Two… Three!”

Maki: “25, 26, 27, 28…”

…

Kaito: “When you really think about it, the universe is impossibly vast.”

Oh, Kaito. I’m pretty sure the reason he suggested sit-ups rather than push-ups this time is that he knew he was in too much pain to do much training, and so he at least wanted to be able to look up at the stars while he’s “slacking off”. It’s also a clever misdirection that he can make it look like he’s simply being distracted by space rather than that he has a more worrying reason to not be doing any.

Shuichi: (Kaito stood up slowly, his body hesitant.)

There go Shuichi’s observational skills picking up on evidence that indicates Kaito is in pain… and then not following up and coming to a conclusion from that evidence, because – well, probably because there’s still some truths he doesn’t want to pursue, especially when he’s not in class-trial, if-I-don’t-face-the-truth-we-all-die mode.

Kaito: “Sorry… gotta use the bathroom.”

Translation: just gonna go cough up some blood, guys, brb.

(Also, look at him apologising. Simply needing to use the bathroom should not ever count as “doing something wrong” even in his warped logic, so he’s not really apologising for that, is he.)

Shuichi: (Kaito slowly began walking away toward the school building.) “…I wonder what’s wrong. He’s not in much of a hurry for needing to go to the bathroom.”

Again, making relevant observations that he won’t be consciously drawing any conclusions from because that’s too worrying a truth.

Maki: “Do you want me to go check on him? I just finished doing my 100 sit-ups.”

Shuichi: “What? Already? But, ah, maybe you shouldn’t go… Because it’s… the boys bathroom…”

Maki: “…”

Shuichi: “…Did that not occur to you?”

Yeah, things like gendered bathroom taboos kind of get lost by the wayside when you’re forced through hellish training to become a child-slave assassin.

Also, man, the problems in this game that could be solved if the school just had unisex bathrooms. Shuichi would have found the secret passageway, Maki would have discovered that Kaito is dying…

Maki: “By the way… this seems like a good time to ask, but… Did you… like Kaede?”

So, of course, Maki’s asking this because she’s starting to wonder if she “likes” Kaito in that same sense and is trying to figure that out.

Maki: “Well… I assumed you didn’t, because that would be weird.”

Shuichi: “What do you mean, ‘weird’?”

Maki: “Liking someone you just met… especially in a situation like this…”

Shuichi: “… Then tell me… under what circumstances is liking someone *not* weird?”

Maki: “…Huh? I… don’t know. I don’t… really understand what that is.”

But she doesn’t understand why she would start feeling this way, because regardless of how great a guy Kaito may or may not be, it doesn’t make any sense that she’d feel this way about him, or about anyone for that matter, and it’s inconvenient and annoying. But if Shuichi also felt that way about Kaede in the same kind of situation, maybe it’s not quite so nonsensical after all?

Here’s the thing: the way Maki approaches this and her opinion of this concept here read as incredibly aromantic. I would know – I’m aromantic, and everything she just said sounds perfectly logical to me and is very similar to how I feel about such things. Yet I gather that such an opinion is an outlier and most people don’t usually see it this way.

Obviously, Maki does in fact feel this way about Kaito, or at least is beginning to, since she explicitly admits to her feelings at the end. I’m going to trust her judgement of her own feelings in that future moment enough to assume that she isn’t mistaken about them, since learning to trust and understand her own feelings is a large part of her character arc. So… Maki is demiromantic? There’s no evidence that she felt anything towards Kaito before he befriended her, so it could entirely be that the platonic affection she gained for him once he reached out and started helping her is what this has grown from. (That said, I’m not demi, so I don’t know exactly how that feels and whether that’s applicable here. She could also just be grey-aro.)

I’ll be honest: I kind of doubt that the writers were deliberately trying to portray Maki as being on the aro spectrum here, because haha canon aromantic representation in mainstream Japanese media, especially that which is more complicated than just plain aro, that’s a joke. They were probably just trying to write her as someone who’s been so emotionally numbed by her hellish backstory that she never got a chance to feel anything romance-related until now, now that she’s started to open up and be a person again. But the end result is that they’ve written a character who is incredibly aro-coded, whether they meant to or not.

Maki: “…Nevermind. Just forget I ever asked.”

Shuichi: “Forget you asked? Why did you bring this up, Maki?”

Maki: “…No reason. I was only curious.”

Shuichi: “No reason? Maki, you’re being… cruel. You ask me a personal question, then act like you don’t care—”

Shuichi’s reaction here strongly indicates that he did feel that way about Kaede, because if he truly didn’t, then he wouldn’t be hurt so much by Maki’s apparent indifference. But I should point out that this is the only actual piece of evidence in the canon storyline that Shuichi felt this way. I never mentioned his romantic feelings towards Kaede during chapter 1 because they weren’t relevant. The most important point is that they were friends. Everything Shuichi was shown to feel about Kaede back then was entirely consistent with a deep friendship brought about by this awful situation causing them to bond very quickly. All of it would have been the same even if he didn’t also happen to have had romantic feelings towards her. The romantic feelings were just an extra thing, confirmed to be most likely the case here, but not remotely the main focus.

And I appreciate that! The writing of chapter 1 could have insisted that we should care about Kaede and Shuichi specifically because there was romantic love involved, but it didn’t. Platonic love is just as important.

(This is also the case with Maki’s romantic feelings towards Kaito, for that matter. This scene and the very end of trial 5 are pretty much the only points at which they are relevant while Kaito is alive. The rest of the time, the focus isn’t on anything except their friendship. Her romantic feelings are a little bit more relevant, but there is a point to that that’s not just purely for the sake of romance itself, which I’ll talk about when we get there.)

Kaito: “Hey! Were you guys making out while I was gone!?”

So, clearly Kaito is oblivious to what they were just discussing, and I also highly doubt that he really thinks Shuichi and Maki are into each other – at no other point does he seem to think that way or particularly care about that kind of thing. This comment probably came about because Kaito was worried during his blood-coughing session that Shuichi and Maki might have figured out something was wrong, so he deliberately tried to shut down any conversation of that nature that they might have been having by making an awkward comment like this as soon as he returned.

Shuichi: “*Anyway*, what’s wrong, Kaito? Why did you leave all of a sudden?”

…Not that it was very successful, perhaps because of the very nature of the conversation Shuichi and Maki were actually having.

Shuichi: “Continue? I… don’t recall you doing even one yet, Kaito.”

Heh, Shuichi is being so sassy about it. He’d… probably be less sassy if he was more aware of the reason why Kaito hasn’t even started yet.

Kaito: “So, from the beginning! Of course, you guys are gonna restart with me!”

It’s so like Kaito to turn his own problems into an excuse to motivate his sidekicks to train even harder. Plus, this way it might not seem quite so obvious by the end that he’s done way fewer than them, at least if they don’t stop and think about it.

Kaito: “Let your sweat wash away all your sadness, fear, worry and hardships. Just start moving your body and your pain will become memories before you know it.”

Oh, Kaito. He’s giving such good advice while being so wonderfully hypocritical about it at the same time. (Although, in fairness, he’s specifically talking about emotional pain, and at least some of his own pain is physical, which is only going to be made worse by moving his body.)

Maki: “…Then you should train, too.”

Maki might have partially picked up on the fact that Kaito is in some amount of emotional pain, if she’s saying this.

Kaito: “Well, I don’t have anything to worry about. Cuz, I mean… I’m Kaito Momota! Luminary of the Stars!”

But what is she talking about, Kaito is fine. The Luminary of the Stars couldn’t possibly have any worries, obviously. If he did, then he wouldn’t be able to be a very good luminary, right? So, precisely because he is the Luminary of the Stars, he must be fine. He has to be.

Shuichi: “H-Hey! No fair, Kaito!”

Meanwhile, Shuichi is only finding it unfair that Kaito not having any worries means he supposedly gets out of having to do any sit-ups. He is not disputing the truth of what Kaito just said at all. Kaito apparently really does have Shuichi fooled, at least in terms of his emotional wellbeing, if not necessarily his physical health.

(But Maki is perhaps a little bit less fooled in the emotional department, in keeping with how last chapter made it clear that she didn’t see Kaito as particularly emotionally strong, not that that stopped him from making a difference to her.)

Shuichi: (In the end, Kaito convinced us to do all of our sit-ups over… But Kaito and I had to give up, and only Maki was able to finish.)

Apparently Kaito did end up doing at least some sit-ups after all. Still, the final tally is: Maki did two hundred sit-ups, Shuichi did a decent amount over a hundred, and Kaito… didn’t even make it to one hundred. Yeah, he is not okay.

(Given that his symptoms include stomach pains, and that sit-ups exercise the stomach muscles… looks like Kaito’s plan to give himself an excuse to look up at space while not exercising backfired on him. Whoops.)

---

[Next post]

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #ndrv3 #chapter 4 #daily life #free time events #commentary

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livvyplaysfinalfantasy · 5 years

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The last section of the 4.2 main scenario, with most of the plot development out of the way, involves further insight into Asahi sas Brutus and his motivations. We've learned that he has come supposedly to negotiate peace between Doma and the Empire, plus many reasons to doubt his sincerity. But as a bit of a distraction from the political discussions, Asahi asks that you, Alisaie and Yugiri accompany him for a tour around the very region where he grew up. This tour passes uneventfully at first, with Asahi remarking at several points how Garlean rule ultimately affected Doma for the worse.

No kidding.

But as you make your way to the town of Namai, you find Isse and Azami in the road, being accosted by Kojin of the Red. These Kojin were Yotsuyu's former mercenaries. Asahi is first to spring to the children's defense - and when the Kojin are defeated, with your and Alisaie's and Yugiri's help, he's also the first to comfort Azami. He refers to the Kojin's murderous behavior as "desperation", and "mismanagement" on the Empire's part. When Yugiri finally calls him out at 11:18 for taking such an apparently dim view of the Empire despite allying with it, he says that it's crucial to "look beyond narrow allegiances," and that the only way to change the Empire is not through external conflicts but through "change from within."

This then prompts a choice in the Warrior of Light's dialogue that, like similar branching points, feels entirely too binary to be of much use: either you agree wholeheartedly with Asahi's stated goal of internal (read: nonviolent) change of an evil empire, or you state that the Empire will never change at all. That the first choice is even offered in the first place seems to downplay everything that the Garlean Empire has stood for thus far in XIV's entire storyline, particularly in 4.0. We have seen absolutely no indication that the Garlean Empire, as a figure of imperialism, will ever change without direct opposition, because Garlemald would have to stop being an empire for it to change in any meaningful way. Similarly, while we have seen plenty of good and honest and noble Garlean characters, they have all chosen to forsake the Empire expressly because of its imperial policies; in all the years of XIV's story, we know of absolutely no one within the Empire who would be able to bring about the kind of internal change Asahi is describing, except for maybe Asahi himself, and that's assuming the player has completely missed every single villain cue thus far. On the other hand, while it is true that the Garlean Empire will (by definition of it being an empire) never change, this response seems to conflate all Garleans with imperials - an implication that’s furthered when Asahi immediately compares Ishgard's reformation to a wholly theoretical Garlean reform, which feels completely irrelevant to the question at hand. No matter how awful Ishgard's thousand-year theocratic rule was, no matter the atrocities it inflicted upon dragons, Ishgard’s steadfast isolationism was not comparable to Garlemald’s aggressive expansionist policy in any real and meaningful way.

Back at the Doman enclave, Hien is apprised of the Red Kojin's attack. Of course, neither he nor the others seem to be able to decide whether or not to trust Asahi. That said, Hien believes that the Garlean ambassador's demands will be easy enough to meet: the Domans do not practice summoning, and the stores of aether in the Kojin's sacred relics will take a long time to be restored. As Hien sees it, the only other "unfinished business" left to attend to is Yotsuyu's fate.

And so he enters the chambers where Gosetsu and Yotsuyu are being held, and he draws his katana with the intention of killing her. As he speaks to her deliberately for the first time in the entire patch, he says that she "should be at the bottom of the river" despite her tragic life. Again, Yotsuyu still has no memory of her past actions. Gosetsu argues on her behalf, saying that the "sins" of Doma's occupation lie with both those who gave the orders and the soldiers who carried them out, and that Yotsuyu has no sin to atone for without the memory of her crimes. This explanation completely bypasses the notion that not all of the cruelties that took place in Doma came from the Empire, or even as a result of war: it absolves Yotsuyu's family of their abuse, and it absolves Jifuya again of enslaving Yotsuyu. This distinction is important, considering so much of 4.1's main scenario focused on the flaws in Ala Mhigan politics and society that existed both before and after the Empire. The fact that hardly any attention is paid by comparison to the apparently deeply entrenched mistreatment of women like Yotsuyu, and that none of Doma's main cast see it as a priority to be addressed, makes this entire arc and its notions of morality feel that much more arbitrary. In the end, Hien listens to Gosetsu as the old samurai explains that he believes it to have been "the will of the kami" for Yotsuyu to be given a chance at a new life without the memories of her sins: speaking once more to Gosetsu, he says that Yotsuyu's life "is [Gosetsu's] to safeguard," furthering the idea that even in what is supposed to be her second chance, Yotsuyu's life is not really her own.

Try as I might, I can't come to grips with Hien in this scene; there's no way for me to examine his actions without thinking he comes off as pointlessly unkind. Maybe there would be more understanding of Hien's behavior if the story addressed what he might be thinking. After all, he's confronted with the woman who did so much harm to him, to his loved ones, and to his countrymen; her arrival has thrown into question his plans for Doma's continued peace. But Hien's pain is not ever the focus of this story arc, and it's at odds with 4.2's portrayal of Yotsuyu as a pathetic figure who's capable and maybe worthy of redemption.

As the peace negotiations continue soon thereafter, Hien comes clean about Yotsuyu's state and proposes that she will be turned over as a prisoner only if she manages to regain her memory by the time the exchange occurs. (The overacting of "dango" here, and in later cutscenes, has become an inside joke among me and @traversingtherealm and others.) Regardless, Asahi goes to meet with Yotsuyu in private... and though they are gone for a long time, he offers no objections as to the state of their arrangement when he returns, agreeing that she has indeed lost her memory.

It's when you escort Asahi back to the Garlean airship that things get really interesting. In the midst of a private farewell to the Warrior of Light, he at last drops all pretense of joviality and goes - for lack of any better description - feral. He calls you "savior of the savages" and threatens you with "a reckoning," and from there you're launched into an Echo vision of an event from Asahi's past two years ago. Asahi participated in the bitter reprisal against Doma's revolution efforts - thereby proving that his supposed concern over Doma's state during his tour around Yanxia was a lie, since he was there while it happened - and he was cornered by samurai and shinobi. Only through pure luck did Zenos yae Galvus happen to stumble upon the battle and take down every Doman, to a man. A Doman soldier described this moment during 4.0's story as the point at which Zenos slew countless trained samurai and took up the katana for the first time. True to form, Zenos bears no interest for the soldier whose life he saved and is focused only on where he can find a formidable opponent - and an awestruck Asahi informs him that of Lord Kaien's continued rebellion, thereby showing us that Asahi may be indirectly related to the circumstances of Hien's father's death.

Upon returning from the vision, it becomes clear that that moment bore a great significance not only for Zenos and for Doma but for Asahi, who is staring at you with murderous intent for having been the one to kill his "lord." He goads you to strike him and thereby jeopardize Doma's prospects for peace. Ultimately you do nothing - and neither does Hien, even once you tell him that Asahi has been misrepresenting himself and his motivations throughout the entirety of the negotiations. The return of Doman prisoners of war has become top of mind for Hien, and rightly so - however, while Hien does not by any means trust Asahi, he is nonetheless determined to "play his game" to secure the prisoners' freedom and will make preparations just as he and Asahi agreed.

As far as Asahi goes... after having over a year to reflect on him, I can't entirely say for certain if I would have enjoyed his character more if the 4.2 story had been different. I'm intrigued by his connection to Zenos, and I think that his role as a purveyor of information about differing Garlean factions is fascinating - especially since he is so obviously not a trustworthy source of other information. That said, I can't reconcile these concepts with the knowledge that he was complicit in Yotsuyu's abuse - and it's difficult for me to enjoy him as a villain knowing that his existence contributes to an inability for her character to grow on both a textual and metatextual level.

The 4.2 story wraps up on that relative cliffhanger, with a couple of scenes to hint at what may be coming for the future. For starters, Asahi is thoroughly pleased with how things went, which can't be good for us. While Asahi met with Yotsuyu, he gave her a strange mirror - and alone in her chambers, she uses that mirror to try her hardest to remember who she is.

Meanwhile, in the Garlean capital, we see our first glimpse at... someone who may or may not be Zenos yae Galvus recovering in a medical wing, with heavy bandages around the neck that Zenos himself slit atop the Royal Menagerie.

#LPFFXIV:S

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garyofrivia · 5 years

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a few Modern!Gang college AU headcanons!!!!!

not that anyone asked!!! and this has probably been done already!! but i’m bored at work so :/ i’m so sorry

Arthur:

graphic design major, creative writing minor

took a photography class to impress that cute albert boy from down the hall and worked extra hard all semester just to end up accidentally telling his advisor that he wanted to double minor in photography as well

Tired™

he’s def one of those students that can fall asleep a n y w h e r e on campus

has a sleeve tattoo and is working on a second ;;;)))

he doesn’t party often, but when he does, the entire fire department and 7 cop cars show up by the end of the night to break it up

there was a rumor his sophomore year that he beat up 5 frat dudes at once during rush week for harassing girls and no one has heard of any issues from that frat since

is banned from the local chili’s for dining and dashing

shoplifts chef boyardee, microwavable ramen, and snickers bars from the student center convenience store to Survive

Charles:

environmental studies major

is in 50000000 activist clubs

regularly punches racist white boys w/ maga merch in the dorm common rooms and when the RA saw one time he didn’t do jack shit bc…. he right

he’s never procrastinated an assignment in his life

studies until 5 am every night but? still wakes up at the crack of dawn to go to the gym????

works part time as a barista at a hole in the wall coffee shop/bookstore and is 100% a coffee snob

doesn’t smoke but knows every weed dealer on campus, mostly bc they’re all enviro studies majors

his roommate thinks he’s a myth bc he’s never there or is just super quiet, but rly he just Minds His Damn Business

can be seen reading for leisure on the quad when it’s sunny and warm

Dutch:

political science major, philosophy minor

arthur and hosea are his friends from high school and they’re the only ones that can tolerate his mood when he goes on Insane procrastination benders where he’s trying to write 4 essays in a single night on a fuck ton of adderall and energy drinks

frequently goes on rants while studying in the student center about capitalism and it somehow always results in him on top of a table, yelling about ronald reagan

it gets Annoying when he talks about ancient greece, which is… constantly..

has 4 girlfriends and 3 boyfriends but still has time to participate in debate team every saturday

accidentally incited a student labor strike on campus one time and the cafeteria wasn’t functional for a week

started 6 clubs, but never goes to meetings and can’t remember what literally any of them are for

doesn’t work at all but somehow? always has money??? like he pays for his friends’ dinners all the time?? how??????

Hosea:

graduate economics student

he’s that cool TA in a super hard class that sends the prof’s tests from previous semesters to all the students so they can study for the final

Constantly in the library reading/studying/tutoring

still lives on campus for some reason and pirates textbook pdfs out of his dorm room

has a 4.2 gpa, but acts like he’s never been to a single class in his life

gets high all the time and talks about moving to europe on a whim and is *THIS* close to just fuckign doin it

makes his own kombucha

when he can’t sleep bc of test anxiety he rambles to arthur and dutch until the wee hours of the morn about existentialism and how great the beatles were

is responsible for multiple people discovering they have a daddy kink despite not having one himself

John:

undecided major (communications maybe, but he hasn’t found his “passion” yet)

failed freshman english twice for just not showing up to class

drives one of those old subarus from the 90’s and does donuts in the student lot when it snows

has a CD collection from his Emo™ days in the glove box and pops one in every now and then when he’s alone and feelin’ nostalgic/sad

skateboards to class and usually almost runs over a bunch of people since he always has headphones on

death note is his favorite anime

that One Room on your hall that is ALWAYS playing loud ass music until 3am

is surprisingly really good at math and tries to help tutor his friends but gets frustrated when they don’t understand “basic” calculus on the first try

his favorite hobby is harassing the ducks on campus and has made enemies of multiple geese

Sadie:

criminology major

plays intramural sports, probably volleyball and softball

everyone’s Jock Girlfriend they wished they had but are too afraid to talk to bc she might snap someone’s neck if they look at her wrong

wears leather jackets and aviators for every occasion

one time gave a monologue about sexism in her political theory class after not saying anything for the entire semester and her professor was moved to tears

has a lot of friends but only a few are ride or die babey!!!!!!!! (it’s arthur, charles, and abigail and they bully john together)

knows a lot about cars and ppl pay her to fix theirs since college kids usually can’t afford to go to a garage

speaks german because she got bored one summer and taught herself a fucking language i guess

Sean:

french major (????why is he like that???)

he says he’s studying a different language because the thinks it’ll make him hotter, but really it’s because he fantasises about moving away one day to start a new life

always says how college isn’t really for him and is .2 seconds away from dropping out

hangs out with john a little too much for his own good and once broke his wrist while trying his skateboard

“hey, have you heard of [insert incredibly obscure punk rock band name here]?”

gets blackout drunk every weekend and keeps a journal for the sole purpose of documenting the various places he’s woken up

wears stupid beanies and owns one (1) hoodie that he wears year round

quotes memes out loud to be able to communicate his emotions effectively

a ~Film Hoe~

also………. he vapes

Javier:

international studies major, finance minor

studied abroad in spain and almost didn’t come back bc he loved it so much

plans to get mega rich so he can travel Everywhere

um,,, he loves classic lit and owns an entire library full of it

took a gap year after high school to tour with his band and kinda became a lil famous so that’s cool

runs a thirst trap instagram acct and models part time ;)

every single person that encounters him has been attracted to him in one way or another and they truly don’t even question it

he’s a major mama’s boy and she visits him all the time

he rooms with sean who drives him insane but they have similar music tastes and were able to bond over that

they get rowdy on saturdays but has his (few) friends over on sundays for a “family dinner”

Bill:

computer science major

used to play COD competitively and wants to get into videya game development

seems like kind of an idiot when he asks questions in class but his grades show that he’s smarter than he looks

did ROTC for the tuition money but dropped as soon as he found out that you have to enlist after you graduate lmao

southern angery boi that drives a pickup truck and hosts tailgates every single football game

has a bunch of dudebro friends that he hangs out with due to societal pressure, but all he wants to do is bake some cookies

his roommate was scared of him at first but when he bought him a lil gift for christmas before break, he realized that he was a big ole softie

is late to class bc he spends 65943598 years on his hair in the morning even though it literally never looks different

Lenny:

english major, applying to the education masters degree program

he wants to be a high school english teacher fuck me up!!!!!!

was super homesick when he first moved away :(

writes his friends papers for them sometimes even though he’s killing himself with his own schoolwork

netflix binges and video game benders are regular weekend activities and he’s been known to not move from his chair for 15 hours at a time

runs an avengers stan blog and cried at comic con when he met robert downey jr

begged the manager at the local comic book store for a job and the guy was just like “yeah, kid literally just apply online idc”

has lots of friends that rope him into doing hooligan shit instead of study

is a giant ball of anxiety for the majority of the semester and is just,, Trying His Best

Micah:

he was the maga kid that charles knocked out the first week of classes

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr headcanons #rdr2 HCs #modern rdr2 #jedmdjskjdkd jk about micah i cant do him out of pure bias so feel free to add him or anyone else!!!!!#this is EXTREMELY self indulgent wow #pls dont drag me

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themasterofcider · 6 years

Text

Reasons to Ship Markus & North (Marth/Norkus) 4.2

Markus Reawakened North's Fire (CONT)

The start of the freedom march sees some interesting characterization for North. In this moment it is as if she has swapped roles with Simon. This was clearly not her idea, and she's terrified. She pleads with Markus to not do things this way and drops her head when she understands that he's going to go through with the plan regardless. At first this baffled me. North rarely shows this level of cowardice. Initially it felt out of character, but it actually may not be. I mentioned her just now becoming actualized and owning her feelings. It makes perfect sense that she would be nervous about not only dying herself and losing touch with those emotions, but having her people die too. If we come at the scene from this perspective, then her caution makes a lot of sense. There's logic behind it from the way she wants to handle the situation. She wants to fight, because she saw how effectively it worked (or how ineffective peace was) at Capitol Park. In her mind a peaceful march makes little sense, as it's not a language humans understand. It could lead to everyone getting slaughtered for no reason. We then have God Droid summoning his fellow androids with something as small as a glance, and none of them question him. North and the other advisors witness this firsthand. Suddenly the police show up to assault unarmed, peaceful protestors. Markus is faced with a choice. To either fight, flee, or stand his ground. North urges him to fight. She knows they have greater numbers and can win if they choose to face them. She is quite forward about this. There's an eager, nervous confidence to her as she speaks. She believes this is the best choice. It would mean less death for her people and would teach the humans a vital lesson. Should Markus go through with the more aggressive option there's a huge battle, in which North is a skilled, eager participant. She's kicking the hell out of their rivals, beating them with nightsticks, and firing rifles as well as pistols. She even has a powerful moment where she fights directly alongside Markus. She also helps him up, should he take a bullet for her. I don't believe North needs Markus to be successful in combat (we see her picking up the slack numerous times should you as a player screw up), but I do think she feels much more energized doing so. They're fighting back to back, surrounded by three or four enemies, and together they still win. The odds are against them, but through sheer morale and determination they pull through. Briefly looking back at the situation in Capitol Park we know North loves fighting back, and she loves the validation Markus gives her when he chooses to do the same. Getting the chance to fight directly beside the person who understands you and inspires you would make anyone feel like they could take on the world. This is no doubt what North is experiencing. We can see this after she helps him to his feet. They hold each other's gazes for a moment. From her expression (and relationship meter) she's both touched and surprised that he would risk injury for her. She's in the middle of battle with the opportunity to get back at the humans but stops for several seconds to admire Markus. For someone so focused to do this, one can tell how impactful this man is. When the police flee there's an option to shoot or spare them. If you shoot, North jumps in, following Markus' example. Seeing the humans defeated everyone drops their weapons to examine the battlefield. The androids lost several, but they won. It's just as North predicted. They could take the humans, and they did. Her fiery, soldier spirit has once again been vindicated. As such, she has no reason or desire to back down from her position.

Jericho squad is in the captain's quarters discussing the effects of the march. There are serious repercussions for fighting, and everyone is fearing for their people's lives. Josh is understandably furious with Markus, and once again Simon mediates. North agrees with him, and doesn't want to dwell on the past. She's ready to move forward. In order to do this she encourages Markus to guide them. This is a pivotal moment in the game for North's character. If the player has messed up too many times, North takes control and the three kick Markus out. If the player has done well, you have her support, and everyone has no issues leaving you in charge. North is a fully fledged warrior at this point. She's acknowledged her past, is motivated, and isn't afraid to fight for what she wants. The narrative has told you not to make too many errors, or she will show you what she can do when inspired. All this is due to Markus. Good or bad. If he hadn't have shown up, she wouldn't have been moved to action. Thankfully this strong soldier still more than approves of Markus' leadership and allows him to make the choice. He has done so much good, and made everyone more spirited. She has no reason to doubt him even when things look bleak. If your next move is to talk to the humans North does her old avert gaze maneuver and pleads with Markus not to do this, because she feels that he will get killed. He's her inspiration and everyone's hero. Of course she doesn't want anything to happen to him. He means a lot to her. When Simon and Josh dismiss themselves North affirms this. "Since you've been here you've given us hope. You've given me hope." That quote encompasses this entire post. It's so sweet, open, and loving. Those words hit me right in the heart. It also proves the effect he had on her. Becoming a bit more serious North hands Markus a bomb. She could have kept it for herself, since her judgment is second best in Jericho. She doesn't, however. She gives the detonator to Markus and lets him decide if such measures are necessary. Some people may read this as her being unnecessarily cruel, but it's not. This is a worst case scenario usage only. It is also in order to protect her people. This is a war now, and in order to win a war you have to do what you must to win. Meaning I take the detonator just in case. After that North bears her heart to him. She tells him she's glad they met, and the two share their memories as well as a kiss. Shortly after North also departs . She pauses to let him know she doesn't want to lose him then is gone. Her body language and tone of voice in this scene are so telling. We know emotions have been something that she's kept deep within her. The fact that she steps closer to him before speaking emphasizes how much she trusts him and how much she's changed. She looks down again but not out of fear or in an attempt to close herself off. She's preparing to talk, to open herself up about not just how she feels but what her fears are as well. She doesn't want to lose this man. It would tear her apart to witness the death of the one who gave her the courage to be who she truly is. She lets him share memories with her once more, knowing the heavy impact it had on her the last time. What made her run away before now keeps her there. She has accepted the strength of feelings he brings out in her, and is willing to let him know her in the most intimate manner. When she's leaving she does it in such a slow, almost pained way. She stops to look at him once more. She doesn't want to be apart from him. She knows this could be one of the last times they're together, and the thought is killing her. If Markus dies she loses a friend, a supporter, a source of hope, and a lover. She's not ready to let go of someone who motivated her so intensely.

Jericho is attacked, and while fleeing Marth/Norkus run into each other. North is understandably panicked. From the way she speaks, it's clear she has her own plan, but she puts her trust in Markus by letting him make the choice. She doesn't like the idea of him risking his life to blow up the ship. From the alarmed tone of voice as well as the look in her eyes, she wants him to reconsider. Her ideal is to have him flee with her and Connor. We have to remember this is a chance to save some of the other androids from being killed. North knows this, but doesn't think it's worth it for Markus to risk his life. This means she could potentially end up losing Simon and Josh as well. I wouldn't say this is an honorable moment for her, but it is one that shows how deeply she cares for Markus. He's done a lot for her and everyone else that the thought of him dying is more painful than the thought of losing some of her people. The team regroups, and North is the first to notice Markus' return. She gives him a small, relieved smile before turning and running with the others. For some reason North pauses then gets shot. North doesn’t cry or plead for her life even with Simon encouraging Markus to leave her behind. She may not want to die, but she knows that if nothing else Markus needs to be protected. If she has to lose her life for him to continue helping others so be it. Luckily for her I don’t believe the android leader is the type to ever abandon a friend, so he rushes in to save her. They fight in tandem once again, harkening back to the freedom march and Capitol Park. Injured or not, North still gives it all she has. She is feeling well supported by Markus, and the extra assistance enables her to keep up the battle until their enemies are defeated. Connor covers them, and the five manage to escape safely. This is another one of those scenes that had me scratching my head in regards to North’s characterization. I’m not surprised that she would value Markus over everyone else. He is the soul of the revolution after all, but fact that she wouldn’t insist to go with him when this was a chance to save their people and provide him backup is just odd. It’s not like her her. Based on everything we’ve seen it doesn’t make sense. We know she’s more than capable of a fighter and puts her people’s safety way over hers. Then for some reason she stops running when bullets are flying. I could try to logic it out and say she was waiting for Markus, but I don’t really think that’s the case. Aside from the writers wanting an excuse to have North be rescued by Markus I can’t see why they’d have her behave this way. She’s not a damsel in distress, and it’s too far along in the story for her to be a coward due to emotional sensitivity based on how they’ve developed her so far. This was character regression for the sake of drama, and I’m disappointed with it.

In the aftermath of the destruction the remaining androids take shelter in an abandoned church. North is sitting alone. Silently pondering the events that have transpired over the past few hours. She's pensive but not defeated. She's alive, Markus is alive, and not everyone is dead. This woman has every reason to feel confident. More so when you consider that what her leader did was not in line with a pacifist regime. When we examine their discussion we get several, very telling verbal and non-verbal cues that confirm North's state of mind. From the moment Markus decides to sit beside her, North's eyes are on him. She's no longer deep in thought. In fact, North appears almost relieved that he asked how she was. She gives him a little smile as she affirms that she's fine overall. She gently scolds him about going back for her. She's happy to be alive, but he very well could have died. In an ironic twist, he actually breaks eye contact with her. This alone tells me how deeply North's words resonated with him. This is a serious, impactful thing to mention, but North doesn't turn away. She's now okay with facing the risks that having deep, emotional conversations entail. It's a little extra special that she gets to share this development with Markus as he's the one that gave her the strength to fight in the first place. Maybe him being beside her is affording her the confidence to have this discussion as well. This is supported by her telling him to prioritize the many over her. North truly is okay dying for the greater good, because at least her death would've helped change something. It's slightly different to how she was in earlier chapters. She has always been a proponent of her people, but facing her own death was slightly harder. Now we know she's absolutely unafraid of passing on. She also attributes the survival of the remaining androids to Markus' quick thinking with the explosives. To her the cause is still alive and well. Markus' actions have given her not only the numbers but the morale to keep their fight for equality going. This is very late in the game, but he can still be an inspiration to his actualized girlfriend. They mention the androids being rounded up in camps. North looks down for a moment, seemingly sad for those who were captured. She doesn't even flinch as she talks about the potential of every android dying. Her head is high and, she's staring her leader directly in the eye. She's okay with meeting her end, so long as she goes down trying to make a change. She tells Markus that he has to make a choice, and that she will support him regardless. For someone who also has the qualities of being a leader to allow someone else to make the decision on her fate - and the fate of everyone else like her - requires trust, respect, and humility. Markus has yet to steer them wrong, and she believes he won't anytime soon. With him at her side she is ready and willing to do whatever she must. He just needs to give the order. In a very tender moment she tells him she loves him, they do their precious hand connection, and Markus gets up to rally his people. This whole time North is watching him. She's waiting for his words as much as everyone else. The other androids may have survived, but they need guidance now. What happened was no doubt frightening. At this point only Markus' words can give them the comfort and motivation they need to carry on. Markus is truly something special. When I first watched this scene I wondered my Markus didn't tell North he loved her back, but I thought about it more as time passed. He doesn't need to say words to do this. He reaches for her hand to express his emotion in a physical way that only androids can. The other reason, is to make this moment bigger for North. We've seen her run from such intimacy in the past and suppress her feelings. The fact that she is able to admit this so calmly and with such certainty emphasizes the Markus affect even more. He really helped bring out so much of this woman. It's incredible.

Long live the revolution! Our heroes charge the camp, taking out all who stand in their way. Markus slams their flag into a barrier. As the four Jericho leaders step forward they stare down the opposition. With guns drawn and an unwavering gaze North speaks first. "Freedom or death." She’s ready to fight until the very last android is dead. Or until her people are freed. There is no hesitance or fear in her now. Only raw determination. When Markus echoes her words it is as if he is seeking assurance from her now. This is a small but important role reversal. Markus not only confirms that her stance is right, but it’s a sign that North has elevated to the point of being able to uplift the one who gave her the inspiration to be standing there now. When Markus gives the command they rush into battle under a barrage of gunfire and explosions. The Jericho quartet goes for cover immediately. North is reasonably shaken. She is aware of the odds, but Markus' plan of overwhelming their rivals gives her the push she needs to keep believing. "We're gonna do this. We're gonna get to that fucking camp, and free our people." She's assuring herself as much as Markus is. It’s very nice how they seem to be feeding off each other and keeping the morale up. If someone feels unconfident the other says or does something to erase the doubts. They are very much on even terms now. With his orders promising a success North jumps back into the fray. Simon and Josh eat lead, but she continues on bravely. Her group takes out the people operating the machine gun, and she announces that they're nearly there. She's much calmer than she was before. Clearly with each, little step her confidence grows. Justice is only a few feet away. Markus does some cool stunt with a rocket launcher, destroys a tank, and sends the humans fleeing. With their enemies in retreat, North turns to Markus in awe and announces that they won. She may have had hopes, but the reality causes her to simply stare in admiration.

They did it. What remains of team Jericho have liberated their people from an extermination camp, and Connor has summoned an army. With such a victory the humans must accept the changing times or perish for their defiance. The era of android equality has just begun. North is flanking Markus as he examines his new charges. She breathes and utters a line that embodies everything she is as a character. "We're free." Then she looks at him, wanting Markus to encourage the newly rescued androids. She wants him to speak to them in the same way he spoke to those broken, defeated souls inside Jericho. She wants him to ignite their spirits as well. He will, and she knows this. First, however he wants to take North in his arms, kiss her, share memories, and never let go. He has a job to do and professionalism to uphold as a leader, but he seeks solace and relief in her instead. A gesture North more than appreciates. She's looking deeply into his eyes, grinning almost the entirety of this scene, and basks in his love. When Markus does make his final, grand speech, North doesn't just smile. She beams. It's the happiest she's been in the whole game, and probably in her entire existence. Yes indeed, she's free. Free to fight, free to feel, free to love, and free to live. She is a person in every sense of the word. This woman opened her heart, confronted her past, fought hard for her rights, and is ready to begin her life. North would never have become actualized, never have become inspired, never have become human if this stranger with a wild imagination hadn't fallen into her life. If he hadn't spoken with charismatic, uplifting words that ignited the once quelled fire inside her. If he didn't take actions that shook her to her very soul. Without Markus she would still be sitting stone-faced on a crate, throwing a tennis ball between scavenging for spare parts. He gave her the motivation to be the dedicated, noble, courageous warrior that she kept buried deep within her.

If you’re interested in seeing 1-4.1 of my Marth/Norkus analyses click the link below:

http://themasterofcider.tumblr.com/tagged/reasons-to-ship-marth

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