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#meanwhile the pure vessel is confused as all hell
scribbleshanks · 3 years
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The Pure Vessel better not be a snitching vessel.
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raspberry-starship · 2 years
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Start reading the series here.
Masterlist for this book is here.
Read by scrolling up the tag here.
Dean had been fighting off ghosts intermittently for a half hour. He cursed under his breath and looked at the rift, wondering when the sign to start would rear its head.
“C’mon, c’mon…” He muttered, adjusting his grip on his crowbar.
The world began to tremble then. He looked up into the sky and saw wisps of light beginning to fall down towards Earth. Dean shielded his head preemptively, then when nothing happened, he looked up. A tone sounded all around him, like a gentle buzzing of one horn note. All the souls were being sucked back into the chasm beside him, not attacking.
“It’s time, Samuel.” Rowena said in the mausoleum. “I can feel them, they’re being called back to Hell.”
Sam nodded and quickly set the book down. He moved to stand over the cauldron she’d prepared for them, taking both her hands. She gave him a reassuring nod and then they began.
“Mundus fractus est. Sanetur acre vulnus. Adveniant harena atque saxum, sursum, et deorsum.” They said in unison.
There was an intense tremble to the ground, distracting Sam. He looked up, breaking eye-contact with Rowena. She squeezed his hands, recalling his attention.
“Sam.”
He nodded quickly and they returned to their incantation.
“Claudatur porta inter orbes terrarum… nobis et illis.”
Outside, the hex bag Dean had set down beside him began to glow purple. He grabbed it quickly and tossed it into the rift. The world quaked and the hole began closing in on itself.
Suddenly, the tone stopped, leaving the world empty of sound for a moment. Dean looked up and saw that souls were no longer being pulled into the rift. Instead, they were flying up towards the barrier to bang into it again. He watched in disbelief, unsure of what was happening.
Meanwhile, however, Rowena knew what had happened. She knew that something had gone wrong, and the ending she’d been dreading since receiving that call from Ian became the only way out.
“Did it work?” Sam asked, pulling away from her.
She didn’t answer. He walked towards the door, listening for any information on the other side. The noise of someone rummaging through a bag drew his attention back to the witch. Rowena was on her knees, a knife in hand. Sam watched in horror as she raised it to her own shoulder and began to dig around in her flesh.
“Agh!” She winced, groaning in pain.
“Rowena?!” Sam moved towards her.
She used the knife to pop out a tiny hex bag from under her skin. She looked at the blood-soaked bag for a moment then dropped it on the ground.
“Rowena?” Sam asked, at a loss for words.
“My last resurrection sachet.” She said, standing on wobbly legs, “’Won’t need that where I’m going.”
“Where y—where you’re ‘going’? What are you talking about?” Sam demanded.
“Lilith’s Crook, Belphegor sucking the souls into Hell,” Rowena said, “that was your only shot. But it wasn’t mine.”
Sam cocked his head slightly in confusion.
“Magic can do anything, Samuel, can contain anything,” She walked over to him, “even the vast multitudes of Hell.”
“Contain? What do you mean, ‘contain’?” Sam asked.
“I can soak them up for a time if I pay the price.” She replied.
“What? How?”
“‘Death Is an Infinite Vessel.’” Rowena said, “It’s a spell so simple it draws that its power from its caster. There’s just two ingredients.”
“And you have them here?” Sam pointed to the ground.
“Aye.”
“Rowena, why didn’t you tell us?” Sam yelled, suddenly angry.
“Because, dear, the first ingredient is my own still-coursing blood.” Rowena took a deep breath, “And the last is my final breath.”
Sam’s face morphed then from one of incredulity to one of pure disbelief. “What?”
“I’ll absorb the ghosts and demons and return them to Hell.” She said, “In the grand scheme of things, they aren’t very powerful, so all the lower-level demons and lost souls will be sucked into me.”
Sam shook his head slightly.
“In time,” Rowena took a breath, “my body will break down, and they’ll be released right back where they belong.”
“No, no, Rowena, no.”
“Yes, Samuel.” She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek, “To perform this spell, I have to die.”
Sam didn’t want to believe her.
“And it has to be you that kills me.” She finished softly.
“No.” Sam turned away from Rowena.
With a surprising amount of strength she grabbed his arm and yanked him back to face her.
“It has to be you.” She said, another tear falling from her eye, “My real, permanent demise is at your hands—it’s in Death’s books.”
“Yeah, well, you know what? Screw the books.” Sam gritted out.
“I can’t do this myself, Sam.” Rowena said, voice cracking, “I can’t.”
Sam tilted his chin away, unable to tear his eyes from hers.
“It has to be you that kills me.” She said.
* * *
The front hatch to the Bunker opened. Ren appeared, headphones in and a lighter in hand. She was going to sit on her rock and smoke and just be alone. Less than a mile away, the ground was trembling and the Earth was cracked in two, but here, in the woods around the abandoned power plant, it was peaceful.
Her hands shook a little as she lifted the joint to her lips. She tried to get the lighter to spit flames but her clammy thumb just slipped off. She sniffled and with her face contorted in anger, she tried again. Again, and again, and again she tried to spark the joint until finally she got the lighter to ignite.
The first breath of smoke into her lungs was like it always was; an unnatural warmth rolling down her throat and expanding into her bronchioles along with the cool sting of air inhaled after the drag. She held her breath for a long moment, staring out at the trees. Then the smoke came tumbling out of her with a choked sob.
“Ren?” Jack asked softly from beside her, “Is this what it’s really like to be in love?”
They had been watching Ball of Fire, one of the old movies she’d watched with her dad and cousin. It was about a woman who went to stay with a group of researchers making an encyclopedia, where she taught them about slang and such. Her love interest was the expert grammarian working on the encyclopedia. Jack’s favorite movies were rom-coms and Ren had been introducing him to as many as she could find. This had been their first time re-watching one of the movies, at Jack’s request.
“Couldn’t tell ya.” Ren replied easily.
“You’ve never been in love?” Jack asked.
She shook her head, “Nah. I wouldn’t know it if it punched me in the face.”
“Well, why would it do that?” Jack frowned.
“It’s just a saying, Turbo.” She chuckled.
“Oh.”
They had been quiet for a long moment, just watching the credits roll.
“Cas says I’m going to live for a very long time.” Jack said, “D’you think that means I’ll fall in love someday?”
She smiled and turned to him, “Hell yeah.”
“Really?”
She shrugged, “From what I’ve heard you just know. I don’t know when exactly you know, but you just kinda… do.”
Jack frowned, “You sound like you do know what it’s like to be in love.”
Ren paused to think for a moment. “Non-romantic love, yes.”
“And… what does it feel like?” Jack asked.
“Uh, well…” Ren took a breath, “…it’s a need.”
“A need?”
She nodded, “A need to be close to someone. A need to know their opinion, to know their thoughts, to know they’re safe. It’s something you feel so deeply that you can’t question it.”
Jack had considered this for a long moment.
“That’s how I feel about you.” He said finally.
“What?” Ren blinked, turning to him.
“Can you not love your best friend?” Jack asked, frowning a bit to himself, “Because I always want to know what you think and I always want to be around you. There’s no questions—it’s just a feeling I have.”
Ren had been stunned, just staring at him in awe. She was his best friend, and that had been the first time he’d said it.
“I’m—…” She blinked, “ I’m your best friend?”
Jack smiled, “Yeah. Who else would it be?”
Images flashed before Ren’s mind; he was decorating cookies in the kitchen with she and Ian, then he was reading aloud a part of Percy Jackson that he found funny, and finally he was on his knees in front of Dean, a gun pointed at his head.
Suddenly, she heard a siren going off. She recognized it—it was the one that signaled the Bunker was being locked down. Ren’s brow furrowed and she straightened a little.
A shiver ran through her whole being. A feeling like a pair of eyes were boring holes through the back of her jacket made all the hair on her body stand. Slowly, she lowered the now-dimmed joint into her lap. With eyes wide, she began to turn in place on her rock.
There, standing behind her, was a young man with white hair. His eyes were dark brown, a stark contrast to his golden skin. He wore a bomber jacket and jeans, and something about him was painfully reminiscent of the best friend she’d just lost. She also, however, knew from somewhere deep in her gut that this was not a human.
“Hey.” He said with a smirk, hands in his pockets, “You mind if I take a hit?”
Ren’s hand closed around the joint, covering it completely. Silently, she shook her head, telling him “no”.
“Tch,” He clicked his tongue, “that’s too bad. I’ve missed drugs.”
“You—you what?” She shook her head quickly then demanded, “What are you?”
“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.
“You’re not human, I can tell.” She said without thinking, the weed making her lips a bit looser than she might’ve liked.
“Alright,” He took a slow step forwards.
Without hesitation, Ren slid off her rock and stood, the boulder now between them.
He raised his hands in surrender, “You got me, I’m not human.”
“Wh—what are you, then?” She asked.
A wicked smile curved his lip.
“You can call me Pai.”
“Hell’s closing. The walls are falling.” Rowena said to Sam, still insisting that he kill her.
“There has to be another way.” Sam tried to step away when she caught one of his wrists and pressed the knife into the palm of his hand.
“I wish there were, I do.” She said, forcing him to take the knife when he resisted, “I don’t care about anything enough to take my own life. Not you, your brother, not even the world.”
Sam’s eyes glistened as he tried to wrench his hand free from her surprisingly strong grip. She only held the hand with the blade in it tighter, forcing his hand to stay wrapped around it.
“But I believe in prophecy.” She gritted out, clearly trying not to cry, “And I believe in magic.”
“No,” Sam continued to struggle.
“And I’m here, and you’re here, and everything we need to end this right is in our hands.” She positioned his hand so the blade was pointing at her stomach.
Sam titled his chin away, clearly conflicted. She could see the tears in his eyes and it only made some of her own slip out onto her porcelain cheeks.
“I know this in my bones.” She breathed, still holding the knife poised at her abdomen. “It has to be this way.”
Sam’s nose wrinkled as he tried to keep his emotions down.
“Do it!” Rowena cried suddenly, “Kill me, Samuel!”
Sam didn’t move, neither pulling his hand away or pushing it closer. Instead, he looked everywhere but at her, trying to think of another way around this. He was pulled from his thoughts when a small hand reached up and pinched his chin. She turned his head to force his eyes to meet hers again.
“I know we’ve gotten quite fond of each other, haven’t we?” She said softly with a miserable smile. “But will you let the world die, let your brother die, just so I can live?” The thought seemed preposterous to her.
Sam wanted to shake his head but he knew she was right. With tears brimming in his eyes, he reached forward to bring her into a hug. As they stepped closer together, the blade broke the skin of her stomach. She gasped beneath him as he held her close, two tears slipping out of his eyes. She shuddered beneath him and he pulled away to look at her. She took him by the chin again and nodded, staring him in the eye.
“That’s my boy.” She said with a tender ferocity.
He sniffled pitifully and let go of the knife. She wrapped both hands around it and then began to twist. There was the sick noise of ripping flesh and then a small sob of pain from her. Another tear fell down Sam’s cheek, soaking into the stone floor beneath them.
As soon as he opened the door to the mausoleum for her, wisps of light began flowing into her open wound. She stumbled along ahead of Sam, hands holding her stomach as she moved towards the closing rift. When a ghost that had been antagonizing Dean was sucked away, he followed it to see her approaching. She waddled up right beside him, facing the chasm with tears on her face and what looked like a glint of fear in her eyes. Swallowing, she looked over her shoulder at the two Winchesters.
“Well,” She took a breath, “tell Fergus I’m sorry. And give Castiel a kiss for me.”
“Rowena?” Dean asked, unsure of what was happening.
“Goodbye, boys.” She offered them a watery smile.
With that, she spread her arms out to either side of her, and fell.
Sam turned his head away, stifling a new round of tears. Dean watched with lips parted in awe as she disappeared from view, into the collapsing chasm of the earth. The ground continued to rumble after she was gone but it only lasted a moment. Soon, the ground stopped shifting and everything was still again. And there they were, in an empty graveyard, surrounded by rotting corpses and standing in front of a giant patch of disturbed dirt.
Alone.
* * *
Red lights flashed overhead and Sadie crashed into a corner in the hall. She was holding one of her arms, having just left the electrical room to lock down the Bunker. She stumbled down the corridors, constantly looking over her shoulder. She tripped a little and fumbled with the handle to the armory door. She shoved it open and immediately moved to the blade cage, looking for an angel blade. She tore the drawer open, revealing the polished set of weapons.
There was a knock on the door.
Sadie froze, back towards the entrance. She swallowed, her hand gingerly wrapping around an angel blade. She closed her free hand into a fist to quell the trembling. Slowly, she turned in place.
A woman stood in the doorway and there was only one word to describe her: beautiful. She was east Asian with bright red eyeliner and dark, plum lipstick. She had big, curly auburn hair and dark eyes with vitiligo skin, and and unreadable expression always worn on her face. She stood at about five-eight but she was imposing in her own right. When she looked at Sadie, she seemed to stare straight through her.
Sadie shifted into her fighting stance, holding the blade up.
The woman’s lip ticked up into a smirk.
Ian shoved his door for the tenth time, trying to get free. It was only then that he noticed the air was colder than when he’d started. He stopped fighting with the door and looked down to see ice crystals forming on the wood near the locking mechanism. He frowned incredulously and squatted down to get a better look when a voice spoke behind him.
“Boo.”
Ian gasped and jumped, turning in place to see a stout woman standing in his room. She had dark skin and her jade-green hair was braided out of her face in neat rows. She cocked her head and looked him up and down, adjusting the small sunshine yellow parka she was wearing over a white tank and jeans. Her gray eyes flickered up to meet his again. A wicked smirk began curving her lip upwards.
“Wh—who are you?” Ian asked, receiving his answer a mere second later when he heard her mind respond. “Mar—Marchosias?”
“Marc is fine.” She said with a smile, “Not that you need to know that.”
“Why?” Ian found himself asking.
“’Cause I’m gonna kill you, pretty boy.” She beamed.
“Wh—what for?”
She blinked, seeming a bit taken aback by that. “For keeping me and my siblings locked away.”
“B—but I didn’t do that.” Ian said before he could stop himself.
She frowned, “You didn’t?”
He shook his head.
“Oh.”
There was a pause and then he heard a soft click from behind him. He turned to see that the door was ajar. Without hesitation he yanked it all the way open and skidded out into the hall. He took one last look at Marc and then began sprinting off towards the war room. In his wake, the arch-demon smiled.
“It’s much more fun when they run, anyhow.” She mused aloud, not needing a real reason to hunt Ian down and kill him.
Ren’s shoes hit the ground over and over again, branches slapping at her face and yanking at her clothes. She continued sprinting.
She blinked and suddenly she wasn’t in the woods anymore but careening right for a cliff. With a screech she threw all her weight behind her and tumbled to the ground, right at the edge of the precipice. Panting heavily, she forced herself up onto her feet and turned around. Like she’d been dreading, there was Pai.
He stood with a cocky smirk on his face and his hands still in his pockets. She swallowed and glanced around, wishing desperately that she hadn’t taken those hits of the joint—strategic planning isn’t the easiest when one is high. All she’d been able think of doing was running, so she’d torn off away from him, trying to sober up a little before she dealt with what she was sure was a powerful demon.
“What are you?” She asked, “What do you want?”
He let out a sigh of a laugh, “I’m just trying to talk to you, you’re the one who ran.”
“Well, you’re the one who teleported see against my will!” Ren snapped, “Where the hell are we, anyways?”
“Tibet.” He replied, taking a deep breath of the fresh air, “I haven’t been here in ages.”
“Alright, cool, glad you could reminisce.” Ren said, “Now could you take me back?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
“Just… not yet.”
Ren heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
He studied her for a moment then said, “I’ve never seen something like you, and I’ve been around since the beginning.”
Ren frowned, leaning away from him slightly.
“You see,” He began to pace back and forth, “long ago, after Lucifer made Lilith the first demon, he allowed her to tempt some of her own into being just like her.”
Great, I got a talker on my hands, Ren thought to herself.
“She took five powerful humans and tempted them beyond redemption.” He smiled, “I was the fourth.”
“Cool.” Ren said flatly, “Why do I care?”
His eyes rolled back into his head then, revealing his white arch-demon gaze. Her blood ran cold and instinctively she shuffled backwards. A rock fell off the cliff behind her, reminding her that she was on the edge of a mountain. Swallowing, she steadied herself, trying not to look scared.
In the blink of an eye they were in a tropical rainforest. She swatted a fly out of her face and glanced around.
“How—?” She blinked, “How do you keep doing that?”
He smirked, “Call it a gift from God.”
Ren furrowed here brow, putting the pieces together. “So… so you were born human, with the ability to… teleport?”
Pai smiled, “God was always trying new things in the beginning. He stopped making experiments like me when Lilith got ahold of all five of us.”
“So, what, now you’re just gonna kill me?” She glanced around the lush landscape as it changed again and they were in an open field, “Or am I gonna be stuck teleporting with you for the rest of time?”
He thought for a long moment, eyeing her. “Have you ever been tempted?”
Ren’s expression hardened.
“I can see it in you—that anger.” They began to pace in a circle around each other. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing.” She replied.
“Oh?” He raised his brows in disbelief, “Why?”
“Because I’m not an asshole.” She said.
“But whoever hurt you is.”
She let out a humorless scoff of laughter, “All of the many people who have, yes.”
Pai shook his head slightly, “No, there’s something you’re upset about right now.”
Her mind immediately went to Dean. Something was building inside of her—some kind of fury that demanded release and all of it, she realized then, was directed towards him. She wanted to make him scared like he’d made her scared. She wanted to hurt him just like he’d hurt her.
Time to deflect.
“So, what,” Ren asked, “you wanna swap stories and get to know each other?”
Pai shrugged, “Why not?”
“Because fuck you, that’s why.” She snapped, “You don’t give a damn! You couldn’t possibly understand what I’m going through!”
Pai shrugged again, “Try me.”
“Bite me.” She replied immediately, turning away from him and crossing her arms.
She wasn’t sure if this was a fight they were in or if it was some strange dance. She was unsure what Pai wanted, and why he was trying to talk to her like this. Suddenly, she felt a pressure building behind her eyes. She was so furious. So furious and so miserable. Her body shuddered and she had the thought that she would not cry in front of this arch-demon.
A/N: hey so you can see what the new characters look like here.
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sayakxmi · 4 years
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Ok, so another AU idea - because of some misunderstandings, Cassim’s the one taken to the palace, while Alibaba stays in the slums. I kind of had 2 main ideas how this’d go, but I decided to go with the more role-reversal one.
Under the cut, because it’s long.
So. Basically, Rashid didn’t know his kids name, all he knew was Anise, and so did people he sent to find his kid. Except they’d seen Anise with Cassim a couple of times and were like: ok, that must be the one.
So the king visits the slums, and calls for Cassim. He tells him that Anise was a maid, and that they fell in love and conceived a child, and that apparently Cassim was that kid. (”They don’t look much alike”, well, neither do Sahbmad and Ahbmad, so everybody probably assumed: ah, it’s probably someone on the mother’s side!). Naturally, Cassim knew it wasn’t true, and at first he wanted to say so, but. The opportunity was there. He could go to the palace and help the slums from the inside! That seemed like a good idea. He’d take Mariam of course, it’s just... he couldn’t take Alibaba. The first moment they saw him, they’d know, and Cassim would’ve been thrown out like a trash he was, so he couldn’t let them see him. So he told the king that he had a little sister he’d like to take, and off they went.
So, Alibaba comes home that day, and nobody’s there. Ok, that happened sometimes. They’d come a little later. Mariam certainly would, Cassim sometimes disappears and comes back after few days, but he comes back. So he just have to wait.
But nobody came.
He learns a day or two later that Cassim and Mariam were taken by some rich people, and he hopes, fiercely, that it was some good guy, and he gave them home and food and safety, but if that was true, why wouldn’t they take him too? Cassim became slightly distant, true, but he wouldn’t just leave him behind without a reason, right? And it dawns on him, that Cassim was a thief, and what if he stole from the wrong person, and now they’re in prison or something? He is so. worried. He has to do something! He needs to help them! But.. what can he do, really? He’s just a little slum kid. A slum kid that isn’t Cassim, who was smart, and strong, and charismatic... Everybody felt his disappearance. Without Cassim, the kids didn’t know how to organize themselves, and without organization, they were weaker... Obviously, some kids try, but they do a medicore job at that. They’re not Cassim. Nobody’s Cassim.
And then there’s the plague.
Meanwhile, Cassim and Mariam start their life in the palace. While it’s obvious that this little girl isn’t the king’s daughter, she’s still Cassim’s little sister, and she’s protected by both Cassim (duh) and Rashid, who wouldn’t want any harm to Anise’s kid. He did love her after all. She might not be an actual princes, but she’s certainly treated as one, at least on the surface. The siblings study hard, and Cassim’s... Cassim. He’s a fast learner, and he helps Mariam, and they manage. They both often think about the slums and Alibaba, and they miss their brother a lot (Mariam was angry at Cassim for a long time), but the knowledge that they’re doing it to help everybody makes things a little more bearable. Alibaba would understand. And even if he didn’t, it’s Alibaba! He’d forgive them! He’s too nice not to! (Right?)
On his deathbed, Rashid admits that he realized Cassim wasn’t his biological child, but he still wanted him to be his successor. He also believes his actual son was dead, and Cassim doesn’t correct him, because he’s too shoocked. Maybe not all the nobles are bad... Anyway, Rashid believes that Cassim can save that country, so he names him his heir.
Unfortunately, after the king dies, the fraud comes to light (Ahbmad wouldn’t just let that trash take his crown, and somebody probably overheard Rashid and Cassim’s conversation), and both Cassim and Mariam flee. Ahbmad becomes the king.
Before that, the plague happens. So many people die, and Alibaba watches as their home is being turned into ashes, and this is what kills the hope inside him, the hope that kept telling him that Cassim and Mariam are alright, and that he can still find them, save them. These people, nobles, they didn’t care. Cassim and Mariam must’ve been long dead. So he cries, and mourns, and moves on, because Cassim wouldn’t want him to just stay put. No, Cassim would’ve want him to change things.
Alibaba accepts Markkio’s “help” and the Dark Metal Vessels he provides for the Fog Troupe - because that’s how they decided to call themselves. Alibaba quickly becomes a leader, more competent than they expected him to be, and before long the group’s known in the whole Balbadd. They steal from the rich and give for the poor. (A classic). Alibaba’s natural charm drawns more people to him, and the Troupe becomes a serious threat to the crown.
Al-Thamen isn’t happy, though. There’s something about this kid that, while doesn’t really make him immune to the Dark Metal Vessel’s curse, makes him somewhat resistant, and that’s rather inconvinient for them. Given enough time and knowledge, that kid could become one of their biggest threats, but at the same time if they manage to make him fall... Hmm...
Markkio provides a “better” weapon for Alibaba, one that makes black stains begin to appear on his body. They warned him, obviously, that this would happen - the stains are a side effect they couldn’t get rid of, and the weapon itself is very strong, so it uses more of his magoi, and makes him more tired. (They don’t mention the fact, that this sword poisons his rukh, too). He’s still annoyingly resistant, but that’s just the matter of time. It’ll force him to fall, sooner or later. And the harder he fight, the stronger the curse becomes, so. Good luck dealing with that.
Naturally, Alibaba pushes himself too hard, because somebody has to save his people.
Cassim and Mariam manage to escape, they find work in Qishan, where the dungeon stands, and sometimes Cassim wonders whether he should go or not. He probably would if it wasn’t for Mariam. He can’t leave her like he left Alibaba.
Years pass, Mariam becomes a cart driver, because she’s better at customer service than Cassim, and honestly it’s a miracle they allowed her to work, but whatever. She’s the one to meet Aladdin, except she’s nice, and when he asks for apples she gives him, and they become friends quickly. Then the whole desert hyacinth thing happens, and she manages to save the kid without falling, though she still wastes Budel’s wine, and gets both her and her brother into debt. She freaks out, but Aladdin decides to help her. They talked about dungeons, and they have lots of treasure inside, right? Aladdin wants a djinn, and Mariam wants money so she and her brother won’t have to become slaves. Win-win situation! The trio (because there’s no way Cassim just lets two kids go alone) enters the dungeon. Stuff happens, Cassim didn’t kill Jamil only because Mariam was there, and like hell he’d make his precious little sister see him murder somebody. More stuff happens. Amon has mixed feelings about everybody in that dungeon (save for Aladdin), but ultimately he decides that Cassim’d be a good metal vessel. He’s slightly worried, but Cassim has a lot of potential and it’d be a shame not to utilize it.
Just like in canon, everybody gets thrown somewhere else. Cassim, Mariam and Morgiana near Qishan, but Aladdin much closer to Kou (Tanzen Plateau, iirc). Again, just like in canon Cassim buys the freedom of all the slaves. He kind of appreciates that the slavery was never a thing in Balbadd. These nobles screwed up a lot, but at least that was never a thing there.
They stay in Qishan, waiting for Aladdin (Mariam insisted, and Cassim has to admit, he likes that kid, so he had no problem with that), but he just doesn’t come, and at some point they start talking about going back to Balbadd. At first Cassim’s reluctant - both because he’s lie came to the light, and becaue what can he do at that point. All his plans failed. But then he remember Alibaba, and agrees with Mariam that they need to go back, to see him again.
On the road they hear about a revolution brewing in their country, and they both get worried, because their sweet, pure and weak Alibaba was there, so there’s nothing stopping them anymore.
Meanwhile revolution truly is near, because Alibaba realizes that his days are numbered, and he can’t die, not yet, he needs to finish what he started. For Cassim, for Mariam, for the slums, and all the other people in Balbadd that are being treated unjustly. Even after all those years he’s still an idealist he’s always been. Obviously, by that time Alibaba’s already heard about Cassim and Mariam being in the palace. He added two to two and he know that they went there instead of him (somebody did call them “Anise’s children”, and that made him go. oh.). He knows they were found out, and rumors say that they espaced, and that they didn’t. They’re alive in the dungeons, dead on the road... So many stories! He had no idea what’s true. By that point he’s too scared to have hope that they survived, and at the same time his feelings are too mixed. So he just. Decides not to think about it. He has bigger problems. The curse’s spreading and he needs to cover his body more and more. The revolution needs to happen now. (By that point he at least suspects Markkio, somewhere deep inside, but he decides not to think about that, too.)
Somehow, Cassim, Mariam, Aladdin and Morgiana manage to meet each other near Balbadd, and because of that they also manage to meet Sinbad, who’s in a desperate need for some clothes. Cassim being Cassim finds Sin suspcisious, and then Mariam asks him if he’s that Sinbad, and Aladdin and Morgiana are slightly confused, but that’s how they learn that he is, in fact, that Sinbad. The funny “Aladdin has no idea who that guy is” moment happens. Their moods are being lifted, but then they get to Balbadd, and, oh dear, here we go.
Cassim has no idea what exactly happened, but he assures Sinbad that Ahbmad probably had it coming, because he’d met the guy, and... yeah. Cassim gets to talk with Sinbad alone, and Sin reveals that he knows about him from Rashid. He also saw what’s going on in Balbadd, and he wanted to help, so he promised to call his allies from SSA to support him as a rightful King of Balbadd, provided they had the right papers as a proof of that.
(Sinbad-Ahbmad talk happens in the meantime, whatever)
The night comes, and the Fog Troupe appears. They attack some rich guy’s house. Alibaba isn’t with them, he can barely move by that point, so he wants to save his strength for when it’s actually needed. Zaynab and Hassan see Cassim and Mariam, and they’re relieved? Angry? Disappointed? They don’t know, but they’re sure of one thing - Alibaba’s dying (the two of them are the only ones aware of his condition), and even if both Cassim and Mariam abandoned him years ago, he’d probably want to see them once more. They don’t want to approach them, though, because he’s not alone, so Zaynab show up much later at night. (Hassan stayed with Alibaba trying to help him, even though he’s not very good at that, but he’s trying.)
Cassim and Mariam don’t fight, they agree to go to see Alibaba. They feel so guilty. They sacrificed their relationship to try to change that country, and they failed. What if Alibaba hates them? He has every right to. As they do thourgh the streets they used to know, they learn that Alibaba’s the actual leader of the Fog Troupe, and that yes, this happy-go-lucky kid plans everything. Zaynab’s angry at them, and tells them how worried Alibaba was, and then how devastated he became after he realized how merciless the higher-ups, when the slums burned. The siblings aren’t exactly surprised by now (they’d noticed the slums were gone), but they didn’t know it happened only year after they left. They thought it was a more... recent thing. In the end they ask, why Zaynab helped them meet Alibaba, and she only says that it’s for his sake. She doesn’t say much else, but both Cassim and Mariam feel that something’s really wrong.
The moment they see Alibaba they notice that he’d changes. He looks more tired than they thought was humanly possible, his smile is weak and not entirely sincere, and he’s covered in so much cloth... They want to ask, but it’s... hard. They feel terrible. What on earth happened to their brother when they were gone? But Alibaba ignores the curiosity, and offers them tea instead. He asks them a lot, about the palace, about the desert, and then the dungeon. He’s unexpectedly excited about the last one, but all his movements seem sluggish and so, so tired, and it’s sad to watch, but the siblings allow themselves to forget, at least for a moment, that they aren’t really siblings anymore, not really.
Alibaba’s relieved, happy even, but he’s also sad, and angry, and he feels a rather worrying urge to snap Cassim’s neck, and it takes lots of his self-control not to do that. And the pain in these dark marks on his body is almost unbearable, and he could swear he hears somebody screaming at him, at Cassim, and Mariam, but he ignores that, and lets himself be a kid for a moment. He ends up breaking a cup in his fingers. What a shame. It was a nice cup. And even nicer tea. Well, it happens sometimes.
Cassim gets annoyed with all this “nothing bad happened between them” and basically calls out Alibaba on acting like this. He’s not angry at Alibaba, he’s angry at himself. And he asks Alibaba, why isn’t he angry. All Alibaba says is that he has no time to be angry. He doesn’t elaborate, even when they ask. Instead Alibaba asks if Sinbad really agreed to help them. When Cassim and Mariam nod, he proposes a meeting between the Fog Troupe and Sinbad. As long as it happens in this room, it’s fine. 
Cassim and Mariam leave with their questions unanswered, but then again, did they even have the right to ask? They talk with Sinbad, and everybody agrees. Sinbad (and Ja’far, and Aladdin, and Morgiana - Masrur stayed back to make sure nobody interrupts them) arrives, and they want to talk, but because Sinbad is Sinbad, he notices that something’s wrong. And so does Aladdin. He says that his Rukh seem to be in great pain, but Alibaba shrugs it off, saying that there are more important things to talk about. Cassim and Mariam want to know what was that about pain, but Alibaba ignores them, and talks with Sinbad instead. They discuss some stuff, and ultimately, Sinbad wants to talk with Alibaba alone.
Sinbad asks if Alibaba’s condition is Al-Thamen’s doing, but Alibaba doesn’t recognize the name. He does admit that somebody gave them weapons, but won’t say who. Sinbad tells him what Al-Thamen is, and Alibaba gets irritated, because he doesn’t care what’s their goal. He needs to save his people - the means are unimportant. They talk a little longer, Sinbad trying to convince Alibaba to calm the heck down, and try to find a way that, idk, won’t kill him, and the last argument he uses is that Cassim and Mariam would be devastated if he died. Alibaba laughs bitterly, and says that they never cared before.
If it wasn’t for Ja’far, the others would’ve eavesdropped, but he made sure they didn’t. Sinbad naturally comes back and tells Ja’far what happened anyway, and that’s when the quartet does. Cassim and Mariam are?? Terrified??? What do you mean Alibaba could drop dead any moment??? They want to go to Alibaba right away, but they’re stopped by Sindrians, and it waits for the following day, and the following day is when Kou appears, and Things Happen.
Cassim and Mariam try to catch Alibaba, but it’s a futile effort. At first because they were busy with literally everything (Kou appears, Ugo “dies”, Aladdin goes into a coma), and later because Alibaba isn’t in the hideout anymore.
The palace, of course. That’s where they go. The Fog Troupe fights on the streets, though, and Alibaba’s nowhere to be seen. They storm the palace, where the dungeon monsters await, Morgiana helps fighting the monkeys and they go further, until they reach the throne room, where they do find Alibaba, barely standing, in front of Ahbmad. This is the first time they see him at least slightly uncovered, and, dear Solomon, almost his entire body is dark purple by that point, it looks really, really bad. Is that the curse? They have no time to ask.
Some fighting happens, Cassim dethrones Ahbmad and declares Balbadd a republic. It’s less becaue he thinks it’s a good idea, and more self-loathing and remorse. He feels like shit, he failed literally everybody, and how can he trust himself not to harm the others in the future?
(Kou leaves. For now.)
Alibaba is... actually very ok with the idea. He never cared about the crown, and, honestly, this does sound like a good thing. The people will rule themselves. It should be fine now. Sinbad and some members of the SSA are there, too, and support Cassim, so maybe it’s going to be... fine... now...
Alibaba collapses, everybody freaks out, and then it gets even worse, because Alibaba - involuntarily - turns into a Black Djinn, attacks everything and everyone. The situation is bad, Judar appears and starts controlling Alibaba, it’s pretty bad until Aladdin shows up, solomon-wisdoms Judar, and then allows Cassim to go inside Alibaba’s djinn form.
He... honestly didn’t know what he expected to see, but certainly not this much... white. Sure, it’s not a lot, but still much more than what would one expect from a person that apparently fell into depravity. It gives Cassim hope, that maybe it’s not too late to save Alibaba, and at the same time it makes him furious, because he’s certain it’s somebody else’s doing. (And jealous, because he doubts he’d have been strong enough to resist that curse).
It takes him a moment, but he finds Alibaba. The little one, who just recently got abandoned by his only remaining family. He feels terrible, watching his little brother cry like this, knowing fully well that it’s his fault. He wants to comfort him, but the moment he touches little Alibaba, he gets thrown into his memories.
He doesn’t know how to feel, now that he realizes how much persence Cassim’s had in Alibaba’s entire life. Even while he was gone, Alibaba almost constantly thought about him (and Mariam, but slightly less), about what he’d do in this or that situation. He’s flattered, and slightly flustered, but more than anything he’s sad, becaue he can see how much Alibaba missed him and Mariam, all the hopes that got crushed, how he mourned, and then tried to move on, but never managed to do it entirely. He can see how betrayed yet relieved he felt when he found out they left to live in the palace, how scared he was to hope that Cassim and Mariam are at least alive. And by the end of his life (no, it wasn’t the end, he won’t let it be), how genuinely happy he was to see them again, and how scared he was of himself, because all his negative emotions were running rampant inside of him, and how he didn’t really care about his death, as long as they succeeded in making Balbadd a better place for their people...
They both end up crying, Cassim feeling guilty for the decision he’d made years ago that lead Alibaba to this place, and Alibaba just because he missed him so badly, and missed being so openly emotional with him, and they apologize, and hug, and it feels so right to be like this now, but then they realize that the curse’s still there. They’re unsure what to do, but ultimately Alibaba prompts Cassim to use Amon to get rid of it. Cassim had this idea, too, but he was, and still is reluctant to do it, because what if he harms Alibaba this way? In the end, he agrees, and everything disappears in flames.
Cassim finds himself outside the Black Djinn and notices that it’s gone. Alibaba lays next to him, he doesn’t move and Cassim and Mariam - who ran up to them - freak out, but it turns out he’s still breathing! But he doesn’t wake up, no matter what they do.
The Kou is close, so they choose to escape to Sindria, more worried about Alibaba’s health. At least the curse’s gone, right?
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atamascolily · 3 years
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lily liveblogs Star Trek:TNG 1x11 - “Haven”
aka the “Troi has an arranged marriage” episode.
we get to see Riker smirking as he watches two attractive women in togas play the harp. Oh, Riker.
creepiest message ever for troi: a silvery mask attached to a literal talking cube. Quoth Troi: Oh fuck no.
I don't blame her for being upset; I'm disturbed myself. 
the creepy message box opens up, spilling jewels all over the transporter, and Troi has to inform the oblivious Riker about her upcoming arranged marriage that she very clearly hates
(Item: I cannot tell what is up with her relationship with Riker because the show has given us very little information to date, but I cannot imagine any scenario where this wouldn't be awkward and embarrassing.)
(Left to my own devices, I assume that Troi pegged Riker on the regular and she was the one who broke up with him, but I suspect the writers thought it was the other way around, lol. but it's pretty clear that Riker is dtf aliens and Troi is half-Betazed, so... *shrug*.)
Troi tries to explain her situation to Picard while Riker is mansplaining in the background. RIKER PLEASE CONTROL YOURSELF.  
All Picard wants to know is if Troi is gonna be sticking around or if he's going to have to find a new counselor, lol.
Troi tells him she won't be staying, and Picard is very clearly disappointed and trying to make the best of it, and you can just SEE the moment where Riker realizes he's still in love with Troi and goes all soft, and it's rather endearing.
(For the record, I mock Riker relentlessly, he's often an asshole, and I hate how the writers keep writing him so he's Always in the Right / expect us to identify with him, but I do enjoy him as a character most of the time.)
Riker leans casually against the wall not looking at Troi LOL. He doesn't have to because she can read his emotions.
Troi: "don't ruin your career for me,"
Riker: "babe, but I wanna"
troi: "how ‘bout no"
 Riker: "okay, then, guess I'll die"
troi: how 'bout you stop being a dramatic bitch and dance at my wedding?”
riker’s like "maybe?" and walks STRAIGHT INTO DATA WHO HAS NO IDEA ABOUT THE WRITHING MASS OF AWKWARDNESS HE’S STUMBLED UPON
Deanna's future in-laws arrive OH THE SPACE FASHION LOL
her fiance Wyatt is human (???) gives her a "chameleon rose" that changes color with her moods, I am SURE we will be seeing more of this magic mood ring flower later as a plot point, but 10/10 excellent gift.
(his sweater game is pretty good, Wesley Crusher should take notes)
Troi calls her mother "eccentric" which is a massive understatement
her mom's first act is to scold her for not using telepathy and to make Picard carry her luggage even though she knows he's the captain
(okay, so Troi is half-Betazed, and her MOM is the Betazed and her dad is human? for some reason I thought it was the other way around but w/e)
the other dude with the elder Troi is her valet, so that makes her snub to Picard even worse, and Troi puts her foot down in the corridor
(love how both geordi and data look at that and agree "not gonna touch that shit")
The fact that Troi's mother is such a raving narcissist makes me love Troi so much more. Like, I already loved her, but this just takes it to the next level.
pretty sure the dude playing the valet is the same guy who was the time traveler in "Where No Man Has Gone Before", lol
picard: please accept our humbly awful '70s space future accommodations
I don't know what color white is on a Mood Rose, but that rose has been pure white ever since Lwaxana Troi showed up
Lwaxana Troi believes in radical honesty, which actually puts her roughly on par with Data in terms of social skills, ironically enough.
Troi, who is a professional diplomat, is like, Mom, please, fuck no, humans are complicated, okay?
"Failure to communicate is inherently hostile" - wow, that's this show's philosophy in a nutshell, isn't it?
I love Electorine, the leader of Haven (the planet they’re orbiting) - she looks like how I imagine a grown-up Ozma of Oz
So Troi's fiance is human? I'm so confused about the politics here, especially when Lwaxana is such a snob about Betazed superiority. 
Troi tries to console Wyatt by saying "I'll only be half as annoying" as a Betazoid/my mother. He doesn't laugh, but I think she meant it to be funny? I LOVE YOU TROI.
He wants to know if she can read his thoughts, she says no, but maybe we'll get there, and then she almost spills the beans about Riker, but catches herself at the last possible moment
to his credit, dude picks up on that right away and asks "Do I have competition?"
Troi says NO, but we all know that's a lie.
Turns out Dude also has issues: he's been hearing voices/seeing the face of a woman his entire life, and he just assumed it was Troi because aliens are Like That, am I right?
he says it doesn't matter but he's CLUTCHING THE PORTRAITS HE'S DRAWN TO HIS CHEST AS IF THEY'RE HIS MOST PRECIOUS POSSESIONS so I have Grave Doubts
Picard to his personal journal: am I biased? I'm pretty sure I'm not and this is a legit disaster in the making.
oh hey, there's a strange vessel approaching the planet to investigate, so time for another conference!
(ngl: I realize the conference room scenes are unpopular but I personally love them even though they generally do not work on multiple levels from a writing/viewing perspective)  
turns out the ship is full of plague and heavy-handed metaphors about the nature of humanity
Lwaxana Troi causes a scene at the cocktail party quarreling with her future in-laws, and both Troi and Riker are in their own personal hells
data looks like he could use some popcorn
Love Troi in her non-work outfit here
Data tries to chat up the silent valet about his drinking habits, with hilariously awkward results
RANDOM GONG FOR NO APPARENT REASON
Lwaxana has a pet Tradescantia vine that starts crawling on one of the in-laws and Riker has Had Enough
Everyone is appalled to learn that nudism is mandatory at Betazed weddings.
Troi screams at everyone and storms out and Tasha is amused.
Data believes the proper study of mankind is man: "Could you continue the petty bickering? I find it so intriguing."
awww, riker is brooding in the holodeck, lol
SEARCH YOUR FEEEEEELINGS, RIKER
(why does Troi always have to be the adult in this relationship?)
So "Imzadi" is confirmed to mean "my beloved" and Troi asks if they're beyond that now, and Riker's all jealous and defensive, and... surely they have polyamory in the 24th century??
Rikers like "I'm an all or nothing guy," which, okay, fair. BUT WHY THE HELL DID YOU TWO BREAK UP THEN, I'M SO CONFUSED? Did Troi break up with you because she thought it was interfering with your career (not sure how that tracks but whatever)? Or did Riker instigate the break-up? (In which case, I have less sympathy because he shot himself in the foot there! GROW UP, YOU FOOL, GROW UP)
Wyatt the Betrothed shows up and is like, "oh, hey, your loss" to Riker, which just made me roll my eyes.
Riker responds by stalking off in a dignified huff, lol SO EMOTIONALLY MATURE, Y'ALL.
"So we'll go half naked?" AHAHAHAHA, TROI, I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DEADPAN SENSE OF HUMOR SO MUCH.
meanwhile, the plague ship approaches *jaws theme*
turns out the woman in wyatt's drawings is on the ship, although I admit I would not have made that connection if Troi hadn't pointed it out
Wyatt goes to ask Lwaxana for relationship advice, which goes about as well as you'd expect it would.
he decides to break quarantine and transport over to the plague ship because HIS SECRET DREAM WOMAN IS REAL (and also he's a doctor and this is his life dream to cure the plague)
the ship is decorated with portraits of Wyatt at various ages which is totally not creepy at all
so anyway, that's that!
Lwaxana concludes by flirting with Riker, much to his amusement and Troi's annoyance
it turns out the valet could talk this whole time, he just... didn't want to before now? Or maybe he's come to understand humans better enough to communicate on their level... or just really liked the wet bar at the reception
(oh, and I was totally wrong, that color-changing rose was just a space macguffin that didn't go anywhere, sigh)
at least we'll always have the vine-pet-creature-thing!
I still don’t understand why this episode is called “Haven,” the planet has almost literally nothing to do with anything and nobody even goes there.
so this episode has a lot going for it! lots of fun character moments, even if I’m still confused as hell about a lot of things the show should have explained.
am I entertained? oh, absolutely.
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fourth-best-jeanist · 5 years
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(This is a crack fic based on y’all suggestions that me and my sister @trble921 wrote in about four hours. Hope y’all enjoy. Disclaimer: I have not seen nor have any knowledge of the Merlin fandom so I hope that part is accurate :))
The Adventures of Prince Shouto, Death the Kid, Ming Ming the God, King Arthur and one sleepy Spider-Man
In a faraway land full of magic and wonder, lived price Todoroki of the Endeavor sea kingdom. He was the future king of the sea, but wanted nothing to do with the current king, Endeavor. He often skipped out on his princely duties to enjoy the company of his best friend Ming Ming, the non-binary merduck god of the aquatic animal kingdom.
“Ming Ming!” Shouto called out for his friend as he entered the reefs. Out from the depths of the rocks poked out a small friendly face, the most powerful sea creature in existence.
“Shouto! There you are, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” Ming Ming exclaimed with awe. The two frequently met up to discuss and complain about their broken family lives, something the two had in common.
Meanwhile in the land above water, a small runaway rich boy laid under the tarp on a small fishing boat, trying to keep warm. He awoke with a start, as the boat started moving. His mind immediately started weighing the countless possibilities of what could be happening, was he being kidnaped? Would his dad have to pay a ransom? Once the vessel stopped, his mind slowed as well as he heard the sonorous cries of the boats captain, singing.
“Babyyyyy shark doo dooo doo doo do doo...”
The stowaway was confused - why were his captors singing such a shitty sea shanty? On the other side of the tarp, a dramatic scene was about to play out.
Peter Parker was a simple man, who loved the simple pleasures of life, such as fishing. Every Saturday morning he would grab the infinity gauntlet from his bedside table (for good luck) and go out to sea in order to catch some fish for himself and Aunt May. He had barely started his shanty about prepubescent sharks when he saw a duck pop out from under the water. He smiled when he saw the small creature swim closer.
“Hey little buddy, want some bread?” Peter hummed as he tossed an entire baguette at the duck.
“How dare you assault the god of aquatic life? I shall curse you for eternity to rot in the hell dimension” the duck said.
Peter snapped his head side to side wondering who spoke, but just found the duck, now swimming threateningly close to his boat. He began to question his sanity when he saw a head pop up from under the water, a handsome young dual haired head.
“What are you doing under the water? Do you need a ride back?” Peter asked the man, with a worried expression on his face. The man just scoweld and rolled his eyes.
The idea of hiding under the tarp for much longer angered the young rich boy, so he devised a plan to surprise and get the high ground in a fight. Counting to himself, he readied himself for the attack.
“Hands where i can see them!” he yelled, emerging from under the tarp. He spied two young men and a duck, what lame competition. As he was eyeing the competition, he made eye contact with the dual haired man in the water, and immediately was entranced.
“The asymmetry in your face intrigues me” he thought out loud.
“What the fuck” Said the duck, pulling the stowaway back into reality.
“Alright fools, hands up. I need to know your names, ranks and intentions.” The first to reply was the man on the boat.
“Uh - I’m Peter Parker, and this is my infinity gauntlet. My rank is an Avenger and my intention is to go fishing for my aunt May”. The stowaway nodded and pointed his guns towards the stunning man in the water who begrudgingly replied.
“My name is Shouto Todoroki, I am the first in line for the throne of the Endeavor kingdom, and my intentions are to stop Ming Ming from killing an innocent civilian for throwing bread at them.”
The stowaway confusidly looked around, “who in the fuck is Ming Ming?”
“Right here you asymmetrical asshat” replied the duck.
The stowaway nodded and decided to introduce himself “My name is Death the kid, although i’m sure you already know that.”
All of this was way too much for poor Peter Parker to handle. Sure, aliens were normal for him, but talking ducks? He had always had a tough time dealing with rich kids too, so out of pure terror, Peter grabbed his gauntlet, pushed Death the Kid off the boat, and slung away on his webs.
“Get back here! How dare you disrespect the ruler of the aquatic animal kingdom!” Ming Ming yelled, chasing the scared spider boy, and leaving Todoroki and death the kid alone.
“HELP!!! I CANNOT SWIM!” Death the kid cried as he felt himself sinking under the water. As he began to lose hope, he felt two strong hands grab on to him and pull him back to the surface of the water, supporting the Kid from sinking once again.
Coughing up his lungs, Death the kid searched for his rescuer, only to find none other than the handsome prince himself holding him above the surface. He gazed into the mermaid’s eyes as Todoroki gazed back. With just a look, Death the Kid recognized the signs of a Troubled Family Life.
“Todoroki, I don’t mean to be brash, but are you currently being crushed by the expectations of those around you because your father is a big shot who accomplished something immpressive in his lifetime?” Todoroki gazed back at the curious man.
“Yes, that is my exact situation” he replied. “But there is one thing we don’t have in common, our insecurities.”
“My left side is unsightly” they both said at the same time. Gasping they peered at each other wondering how they could perceive themselves as anything but beautiful.
“What is wrong with your left side?” Todoroki asked curiously.
“These unsightly stripes won’t go away no matter what I do, it makes me so unsymmetrical, I can’t stand it!” he replied, punching the boat. “What about you? What’s your story?”
Todoroki looked down broodingly “You see, my mother was in an arranged marriage with my father and it drove her crazy, one day we were swimming in as geyser field and she snapped. She used the boiling water in order to rid my father from my face.”
Death the kid held out his hands to grab Todoroki’s face, “I think your left side is beautiful, and I hope one day you find it in yourself to love it as much as i do. Even though the different colours of your hair and asymmetrical nature of your face anger me to a primal level, I believe I can find it in myself to love them as I love you.”
As they were deeply entranced in this conversation, they did not notice the turtle watching from afar, with a deathly look in its eyes.
“King Arthur, you have a visitor, sir,” Arthur’s servant announced.
“Bring him in,” Arthur replied.
The servant opened the doors for the visitor, claiming urgent business with the King. Into the throne room walked Tuck the Turtle, with a frown on his face, determination in his walk, and revenge in his heart.
“King Arthur, sir, may I bring to your attention an ungodly war that threatens your kingdom?” Tuck began, “There is an entire kingdom of underwater people who live in the seas to the west! I heard earlier today, as I relaxed by the coast, that they plan to take over the above water kingdoms as well! Sir, you much send your best army there immediately.”
The king thought this over, and decided to take action. “I shall send my entire army of underwater robots to fight these mer-folk. I appreciate your concern for our kingdom!”
As Tuck left the castle, he muttered under his breath. “Finally, I will be able to get revenge against my sibling, Ming Ming. All three of us siblings were Gods! I knew that Linny was not doing her job, so naturally she had to go. I could rule better than Linny any day! But since that was murder and treason and an awful thing to do to a sister, my title as a God was revoked. But with this war to distract those merpeople, it will be easy to get my revenge! I’ll be the only sibling left - and I will be the single and only God of the Animal Kingdom!” Tuck cackled to himself as he walked the coastline, eyeing the kingdom that would soon be his to control.
Tuck, however, was not the only one who could use eavesdropping to his advantage. In the shadows, sat Death the Kid himself, conveniently overhearing Tuck’s entire plan.
“He intends to attack my prince!” he said in a panic, “I have to go warn him”.
“Shouto!!” Death the Kid yelled as he waded into the ocean waves, “Shouto!! I need to warn you!! Shouto!!” He knew that he couldn’t swim. But this was life or death (haha) for the love of his life, and he was willing to put himself on the line if there was a chance of saving his prince. He swam and swam as far as his pathetic noodle arms could take him.
Death the kid felt himself growing weaker as the moments dragged by, fear of drowning weighing heavy in his head. He felt his vision growing weaker and slowly fading to white, when this faded and he regained his ability to he breathe and see. He was in a pure white room with no walls, curves or bends. Hearing a noise, he turned around, only to see his father, death himself.
“What is happening father, what are you doing? I need to go warn Shouto!” Death the kid turned around frantically looking for an exit.
“I’m giving you a choice, my son” Death answered, “you have the choice to either stay as you are and continue your life, or to give up the land and join Shouto. Please note if you decide to go with Shouto, you can never return to land, and in turn, will never be able to come visit me or your old friends ever again.”
Death the kid stood stunned for a few minutes, wondering what he had to give up in order to be fully happy? Would he give up his old life, or would he give up Shouto, the love of his life. After, thinking about the consequences of not being able to warn Shouto, he made his choice.
“I’d like to join Shouto, please use your plot convenient magic to give me a tail” Death the kid exclaimed.
“That’s what i thought you’d say” Death mumbled, bending over to his son “No matter where life or death (haha) takes you, I will always be the first to support you, so always know that i love you very much.” Death reached down to hug his son “now go, save your man”.
Death the kid started to feel an extreme cold sensation on his body as he woke up from his haze, slowly opening his eyes and remembering that he was in the ocean, and had a mission that was life or death (haha). Panicked, he tried to get up as quickly as possible to go warn Shouto, but he felt someone’s arms wrapping tightly over him. He focused his vision and saw Shouto himself holding him in a comforting hug.
“I was so worried about you” the two said in sync. Shouto stifled a laugh, and continued. “I found you passed out underwater, I thought you were dead! But then you grew a tail and....well I was worried. I’m glad to see you alive and well.”
“I’ve had brushes with death before” Death the kid replied giggling at his own joke, realizing that he would have to explain to Shouto why that was funny. He snapped back to reality and grabbed Shouto’s arm and began yelling, “Shouto!! I must protect you! There is an army of robots on their way to destroy your kingdom! And where is that duck? There was a turtle talking about revenge and I think we are all in danger.”
Shouto looked back at Death the Kid, and decided to take action.
“Let’s go and prepare the army.”
King Arthur looked down at the ocean from the docs, turning back around to his army of high tech mechs.
“Prepare troops, its time for you to fulfill your duty and fight for your kingdom!” Arthur yelled as his troops ran and dove into the salty water. He turned to enter his own mech, and followed right behind his army.
Shouto had sent Ming Ming to warn his father of the incoming war, and to no surprise, as he swam down, the troops were ready and waiting on higher orders to act. Shouto and death the kid went to the front of he group to keep a watch for their enemy. When they could just make out the outline of the enemy, they sent the troops to attack. What followed was a gruesome and bloody battle, soldiers being hurt right and left. Shouto was starting to think he made the wrong call, could he have done something to avoid such bloodshed? He was so lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice Tuck sneaking up behind him, preparing to make a fatal blow. All Shouto heard was a scream before it happened, he turned around in confusion only to see Ming Ming rushing out to defend him against the danger. Ming Ming summoned an army of sea creatures to fight against Tuck, while making sure that Shouto was alright. Thanks to this distraction, both failed to see the immediate threat in front of them; Arthur was preparing his mech to finish off Shouto and his kingdom for good.
Death the kid swam around confusedly, what was happening? Where’s Shouto? He turned wildly in every direction trying to find his man, almost failing to notice his slim (But Toned) body from behind a gargantuan mech. He swam as fast as he possibly could in order to protect Shouto from this great threat, throwing himself in front of the danger.
“STOOOOP!!” he screamed. Arthur immediately realized who had commanded him to stop, it was deaths child himself!
“What on earth are you doing here? We are at war, you must step out of the way immediately!” Arthur commanded.
Death the kid shook his head, “you’ve been tricked by Tuck the turtle! There was no threat here, he simply wanted revenge for his own personal gain, at your kingdom’s expense!”
Arthur understood immediately the severity of what had been done, “wherefore is that dastardly turtle?!”
“Right here, king” a sneaky voice taunted, they all turned to face the turtle, not expecting to see him holding an immeasurable power.
“Where did you get that gauntlet!” Death the kid demanded.
“I stole it off that sleeping spider while you were all distracted” Tuck replied eyeing the gems “I guess this is one final goodbye, and thank you”
SNap
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saibug1022 · 6 years
Text
The Wingless Angel
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Sam Winchester x Reader-Supernatural
Word Count: 1813
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I don’t own you or any elements of Supernatural
A/N: Man this one was fun, but I feel like the ends could be better.
Request: Hey! Can you write a Sam x Reader where the reader is an angel from the Soul Relocation department where it's her job to rescue innocent souls from hell and vice versa and make sure the souls get where they are supposed to go, and she confronts Sam after she finds a vessel after the fall because he freed Bobby from Hell and that's supposed to be her job because Bobby's case has assigned to her? Sorry if it's super long and specific.
Key:
Y/N: Your name
L/N: Last name
e/c: eye color
h/c: hair color
f/c: favorite color
You loved your job. The Soul Relocation Department was always busy, but that was unsurprising considering your department was one of the largest and most important in heaven. There were angel lawyers looking through Soul Relocation Claims, or SRCs, and determining whether that soul should be relocated or not. There were the investigators whose job was to check Heaven and Hell every once in awhile for souls they didn't think should be there, filled out the claims, and gave them to the lawyers. And the garrison, of garrison 7, which was assigned to the SND, but of course your garrison would occasionally help out somewhere else if needed, for example when yours and Castiel’s garrisons worked together to save Dean Winchester. But normally you would carry out the verdicts of the lawyers, but when they were overwhelmed occasionally one of you would take a case.
This is kinda what kick-started this story. Lately, more and more evil souls were making their way into Heaven- you blamed Naomi’s leadership and her focus on the angel tablet- which meant the lawyers were getting swamped with SRCs. And so, as the leader of your garrison, you took the next case that came in, which was a Hell-to-Heaven SRC for a man named Robert Singer. After close examination, you came to the conclusion that he certainly wasn’t an amazing person, but he definitely didn’t deserve Hell. You approved the SRC and began to search for a vessel. You settled on a girl with e/c eyes and h/c named Marie L/N. You appeared to her, got the usual yes, and were soon back in Heaven preparing for the usual debate you had to have with Crowley to get a soul out of there when you something come over angel radio: “Bobby Singer is saved. Sam Winchester has completed the second trial to close the gates of Hell.”
This caused mass hysteria among your brothers and sisters, who all celebrated. All in all, it sort of reminded you of a scene from a movie Castiel had once made you watch with him called High School Musical 2. Meanwhile, you just groaned in annoyance, and everyone looked at you with looks of confusion and sympathy on their faces. Well, those with vessels.
Now being an angel wasn’t, well Heaven. It was full of hardships from the loss of your father, to the civil war in Heaven, to the apocalypse. But to you, the worst thing by far was the fall.
There were so many things that contributed to the horror of the fall. First, it was the confusion, the sudden pummeling of an invisible force until there was a painful yank on your wing. The surprise when you suddenly were no longer in Heaven. The fear you felt when you realized you were falling. The pure terror when you realized that you couldn’t teleport or return to Heaven. When you discovered that you were trapped as your wings burned and were ripped to shreds, and just wait for the pain of hitting the Earth, praying the whole time for it to end, and knowing that your prayers weren’t going to be answered. But even worse, was the horror and hopelessness of seeing your brothers and sisters falling alongside you. You reached out to one of your sisters desperately, whether or not for her to save you, for you to save her, or simply to know you weren’t alone you weren’t sure. She reached for you but just as your fingers were about to touch a sudden patch of turbulence hit her and she screamed as she was flung to the side, leaving a clump of feathers behind.
Eventually, you hit something hard and could just barely hear the sound of a nasty crack coming from your wing before whatever you had hit collapsed under you with a loud crash and you hit something even more solid, and going through that too. Finally, you hit the ground, this time with a large pile of debris on top of you. You knew you could easily lift the debris but you didn’t even try. The pain was almost unbearable and had reached the point where you were certain your vessel was dead. And you didn’t even want to anyway. You weren’t sure who you were anymore. You couldn’t get back to Heaven, Angel Radio was just white noise, you didn’t know what to do.
“Sam!” You heard a gruff voice shout, accompanied by two pairs of running footsteps. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” A winded, somewhat fearful voice responded.
“What was that,” The first voice spoke again and you began to try to lift the rubble. It was much heavier than you expected and your sapped strength from the fall was being no help. You didn’t even have the strength to cry out yet.
“I’m not sure,” The second voice, who assumed was Sam, started then paused as if considering something. “For a second, I thought it was an angel. But they already fell.”
“Not all of the angels fell.” You heard a third deeper voice that you thankfully recognized. A pair of footsteps rushed forward and you felt the rubble began to shift. “There was one angel Metatron hated most of all. She was constantly pointing out fallacies in his logic and basically making sure he didn’t trick the angels until recently. He had somehow managed to curse her to fall for all eternity, but the loss of his grace must have broken the spell. Y/N can you hear me?”
“Castiel,” You managed to rasp out. “Thank father.”
“We’re going to get you out Y/N hold on,” Cas assured you. S
Soon the rubble began to shift more as if more people had begun helping. After what felt like another eternity of you crying out in pain if debris shifted the wrong way a burst of light made it through and a hand shot through. You gripped it tight and with a huge yank it pulled you out.
“Oh my god,” The man who pulled you out said. He was inhumanly tall and his brown hair came down to his shoulders. From his voice, you were able to identify him as Sam.
You raised an eyebrow as you realized he wasn’t looking at you, but behind you. However as the adrenaline given to you by the hope of being rescued faded you began to feel a horrible pain from your back and wings. The pain was like nothing you had ever felt before, worse than that time you had been captured while rescuing an innocent soul from Hell and tortured until Cas’s garrison saved you. Black spots began to dance across your vision and you very clichely collapsed onto Sam, panting heavily.
“Shh hey it’s okay,” Sam pulled you into him and rubbed your back where your wings should be.
Your eyes widened and you managed to turn your head to look at the debris pile behind you. There they were, your beautiful, reliable wings were lying there in the dust. No longer attached to your body. They were a part of you both physically and emotionally and now they were lying there, they’re unique and elegant f/c charred nearly beyond recognition. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Strangely it wasn’t Castiel or any of your brothers or sisters who were there for you at this time. It was Sam Winchester. You had moved into the bunker with them and would usually help them by healing/treating them after a hunt and by helping them with research. You would normally hunt with them, but even four months later you were still having phantom pains from the scars on your back or just forgetting your wings are missing altogether. Often times you would have nightmares of the fall and would end up snuggled into Sam for reassurance. He would come into your room as if he felt your distress and hold you till you fell asleep.
You had been bored and were reorganizing the library, a sort of side-project you and Sam had been working on when you heard the Bunker door slam open and Dean shout “Y/N!” You looked up to see Dean and Cas carrying Sam down the stairs, who was badly beaten. You cleared the map table and they set him down on it. Sam’s eyes were closed and he was cut and bleeding in more places than you could count.
Now as you had discovered your wings were a large source of grace, and losing them meant your grace needed to regenerate after using too much of it or you would risk losing it completely, and you had healed Dean from a bullet through the leg less than a week ago, so you had little grace currently, not enough to heal Sam and it be safe for you. You bit your lip nervously, a human habit you had picked up, and healed him as much as you could safely. Then you began to run around frantically, bandaging and stitching his cuts until you came across one in his chest that was so deep and you knew was the worst. There was no way you’d be able to heal him enough with human medical supplies so you set your jaw and put two fingers on Sam’s temple. Castiel realized what you were doing and rushed forward to stop you but it was too late. Your blue grace began to flow through Sam until he was good as new and he shot up with a gasp. Dean embraced his brother and saw the look in your eyes before grabbing Cas by the sleeve and dragging him out of the room. Sam slid down from the map table and you captured him in a hug.
“I thought I-we lost you,” You whispered into his chest.
“I know,” Sam spoke into your hair. Before pulling away and holding you out at arm's’ length. “Actually why didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry Sam but I couldn’t let you die.” You looked down at the ground.
“Y/N you used up your grace for me,” He phrased it as a question but his tone implied it was more of a statement.
“Yes,” You nodded. “But I just couldn’t, not when I’ve still got a bone to pick with you.”
“Okay,” Sam laughed lightly and a little forced, sensing your wish to change the subject.
“You freed Bobby from Hell.” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “You know we have angels for that right? Heck, I was on my way to grab him ya jerk.”
Sam simply laughed again, picking you up and twirling you around before setting you down on the map table where you swung your legs like a little kid, and bit your lip.
“Umm Sam? That thing humans do to show affection, I believe it is called a kiss?”
“Yes, it is,”
“I would like to try it with you if you don’t mind,” You looked back up into his eyes which were wide as a shit-eating grin spread across his face.
“I would love that.”
You pulled him down into the kiss, both of you smiling into it, your lips moving in unison. It was sweet and passionate and everything you had never known you always wanted.
At least until you heard a shout of “About freaking time!” from behind Sam.
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hellomissmabel · 7 years
Text
Of Dusk and Dawn part 5
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MASTERLIST
Pairing: Apollo/Steve x reader, Bucky x reader
Warnings: Mentions of an attempted murder.
Word count: 1.465
Summary: Y/N is the Pythia, the Oracle of Delphi, blessed by the God Apollo with the gift of foresight. Yet one day a hunter sets foot in her temple and she is struck by a dark vision. With the blood moon approaching fast, higher powers take the upper hand and shake up Y/N’s life and love. Is she strong enough to survive the wrath of a Goddess? Or shall she wither and die in the aftermath of a God’s sorrow?
A/N: Written for @marvelous-fvcks her challenge. My prompt was Greek God AU.
Series masterlist can be found here
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By divine intervention, the moment she fell into his waters, the God sent his sea horses to retrieve her body and bring her to the sailor’s vessel. The sailor would then bring her to shore, to where the hunter resides. For Poseidon’s ears had received word of a quarrel between the twins and judged that this girl did not have to suffer for the sake of one scorned Goddess.
Poseidon, at the request of his brother Zeus, hand-picked a man of noble repute to guide the lost souls back to the shore. His eye had fallen upon a man who was once a slave, yet always a fighter. And as Poseidon watched the man sink with the ship that would bring him to foreign lands, he decided it was time to introduce himself to Sam.
“There will come a day,” Poseidon’s human form Tony spoke to the sailor as he dried on the sand, “That the sea horses will bring a woman to your boat. It is Zeus’ will that she be kept alive until the hunter, whom you’ll meet in due time, can bring her back to the safety of her temple. She is the Pythia, the Oracle, and she is special to Apollo, Zeus and Zeus’ bastard son by the name of Bucky. This shall be your destiny, the task you will have to fulfil if you wish to live a meaningful life.”
And so Sam waited and waited for the sea horses to bring said woman to his vessel. Barely breathing and on the brink of death she came to him. Immediately, as he set course for the shoreline, he wrapped half a dozen blankets around her. As he looked down upon her, his eyes took in her swollen belly and the heartbeat that resides in it, however weak. The child will not survive if the waves do not roll faster, so he prayed to Poseidon for help and assistance came in the form of ten sea horses.
Meanwhile, Bucky spirals down the rocky steps down to the beach, just in time to run towards Sam carrying an unconscious Y/N in his arms. “James,” Sam exhales in exhaustion as he gently lays Y/N in his arms. “We have to keep her warm.”
“I’ll get a fire started. Come quickly,” he replies as he lowers his head to feel her faint breath ghost over his skin. “She’s still alive.”
Sam shakes his head, retracing his footprints in the damp sand. “I can’t join you, my friend. This is your destiny, I have already fulfilled mine.” And with those parting words, Sam steps into the waves towards his boat.
Bucky doesn’t have much time to ponder about the meaning behind Sam’s cryptic answer, hurrying up at the best of his ability towards his house on top of the cliffs. Kicking open the door, he softly lays her to rest on his bed, cushioning her with blankets and pillows as the fire cracks behind him. Swiftly he retrieves wood from his shed to keep the fire sizzling all the night long. She doesn’t regain consciousness much, but when she does, her hand instinctively searches for the warm touch of his crude skin.
She awakens with ease as the dew drops of the early morning dawn shine softly in the light of a new day. Bucky has nursed her to health and helped her through this crucial night, keeping watch at all times in fear of Artemis’ return. But Artemis doesn’t know she survived and basks in her ignorant victory. Y/N and Bucky are safe, for now.
“Where am I?,” she inquires carefully, still a little dazed and confused as she takes in her unfamiliar surroundings.
In an attempt to sit up with her back against the wall, her fingers slip off the bed and brush Bucky’s hand. A mild slumber had overtaken him briefly, but the skin contact jolted him awake. “You are at the coastline, in my home. I believe you must remember me?”
“The hunter,” she hums in recognition, “The non-believer.”
Bucky offers her some water and some food, but she declines and tells him she’d rather know what’s she’s doing here first. “Last thing I remember is going to bed and dreaming the same dream I’ve had the past months. But this time it was different,” she adds in search for an explanation, “I followed the red-headed child through the woods.”
Brushing some hair away from her face, he rests the back of his hand against her forehead to check if she has a fever. “The red-headed child was Artemis. She tried to kill you.” Immediately she cups her swollen belly in her hands, feeling the steady heartbeat of her unborn child. “The baby is fine, Y/N,” Bucky assures her kindly.
Artemis, the sister of the man she loves, tried to murder her in cold blood. Artemis, the Goddess she has looked up to her entire life. With tears in her eyes she lets the information sink in. She can’t wrap her mind around it, yet she has to. But not now, not in his house, not when Apollo is due to visit her and their child. She has responsibilities, towards her child and Apollo, even if those same responsibilities get in the way of fate.
“You have to take me back to the temple, please,” she pleads with him after a moment of silence to gather her thoughts. “Apollo will be worried for me.”
She seems urgent to leave his house even though she hasn’t gotten all her strength back. “You can’t leave, Y/N. You need to keep calm for the sake of your child.”
With wild eyes, she stares at him and it makes him uncomfortable. “I can’t, Bucky.”
“It’s for the best,” he reasons further but the Oracle won’t hear it.
“I’m afraid that if you won’t let me go, I’ll have to tell you something you might not want to hear.”
Bucky eyes her curiously, but she finds not traces of fear. What she’s about to tell him will shake up his whole world and might not be in her own best interest. Yet she has to tell him the truth, for she will not be able to carry such a weight on her chest for much longer.
“Your father is Zeus. You are a half-god. Your mother shared her bed with him and from their union, you came to be. I know this because I saw it in my vision. The amulet belonged to him.”
“Why are you telling me this?,” Bucky questions her warily even though he knows the Oracle does not lie. Nevertheless, she speaks in strange tongues, incomprehensible words about the man he has known as his father filling his heart with a bittersweet ache.
“Because Zeus had a plan. For you and for me.” She releases a shaky breath and her quivering fingers intertwine with his. “He chose me as his bride, before Apollo chose me as his Oracle. But father and son didn’t know this either, and the three fates pulled a cruel trick on everyone. They foresee things even I cannot foresee.”
The Pythia clenches her fingers around his, holding their clasped hands close to her heart. “You must never speak about this to anyone, do you understand?”
“Then why are you telling me this?,” Bucky repeats as a strange anger rolls in thick waves off him. He doesn’t recognise the emotions rushing through him. What he’s feeling at the moment has no name. It is pure and maybe it’s his body restoring the divine power brought upon him by his birth father.
“Because I am carrying Apollo’s child in my womb and he will do unspeakable things to you if he ever finds out.”
“That’s why I have to take you back to the temple right now, isn’t it?”
She blows out a long breath, averting her eyes and pinning them on the view outside, the outstretched shoreline that welcomed her so brutally in last night’s sleepy haze. “Yes, Bucky. Yes. I can’t stay here. I can’t be here with you. I can’t. I have to put my child first. I can’t allow myself to stay here any longer because I will fall in love with you if I do.”
She is on the verge of breaking down in front of his eyes and his heart goes out to her, unable to act selfishly on behalf of his throbbing heart.
“Then I shall bring you back at once,” he concludes shortly, his mouth running dry and void of any taste but the sting of rejection. He has been mesmerised by her from the start, only to find out it’s no coincidence. Only to have his heart trampled on by her affections for a God he doesn’t even believe in
Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean67 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @beyondbarnes @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict
Series tag list: @nativesebby @taylorjacksonandtheolympians  @sad-af1121@throwingup-rainbows @thegreentgirl @jughead-wuz-here @redroomproperty @sgtbxckybxrnes @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @lifeofmarvvel @amiarealfan @captainsbestgal @whiskeyandwashitape @kimistry27 @superpaperclip @acunningstargazer @heyitsaznfangirl @follow-the-freeway  @mo320 @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @katalina-from-hellbound @grantsgorgeousgirl @winterwolf57 @lycanmomma @caffeinatedcellist @yknott81 @thefandomimagines @lostinspace33 @jasmineladjevardi @majbritsr @dinorapreira @naturalistamisslyn @winenighthoe @aliasauthor @heneed-somemilk @quoththe-raven @thelostswan @2017booklover @suz-123  @magellan-88 
Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you!
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huntertales · 7 years
Text
Part Two: This is All Your Fault. (Point of No Return S05E18)
Episode Summary: Dean begins to think the only way to stop Lucifer is to say yes to Michael, but the angels decide they don’t need him anymore. The Winchesters and Castiel are horrified at the angels’ new game plan and take on Zachariah to prevent an all out war on Earth. Meanwhile, the reader quickly learns making risky deals with Heaven and Hell have their consequences. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,988.
Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist
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“The Devil told you in a dream, so you just believe him? That’s your big plan?!”
You sat on top of the desk with your feet dangling off the edge as you occupied yourself by reading the book you had been back in the kitchen, trying your hardest to ignore the three men and angel of the Lord. The emotion in the room was nothing but pure anger at what you’ve done. You told them about your entire plan—from selling yourself to the Devil and tricking Heaven into bringing back from the dead. Just for a little while. There was no point of trying to defend yourself as Dean took his time to yell on the top of his lungs about how stupid your idea was. He paced around the room with his arms flailing everywhere as he got red in the face about the kind of danger you were putting yourself in. Cas managed to squeezed in the remark that angels were tricky, not to mention all of you still didn’t know how to put Lucifer back in the cage.
Sam was nothing but disappointed at what he was hearing. He stood across the room with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you with that kind of expression that made him look like a bit of a puppy. It was the kind of look that he gotten when he could have done something to stop this, but failed. He was acting as if this was his fault. Sure, he was nothing but upset at what you had had, but he was more worried about the sort of plan that could easily backfire if Lucifer got his hands on you. This wasn’t your fight to take on head first without a bit of help. And just the idea of you sacrificing yourself to becoming the Devil’s vessel so he could be saved made his stomach tighten with anxiety.
But the thing you wouldn't dare talk about was why you had asked Adam to be brought back from the dead. Whenever they tried to ask, you would grow eerily silent with a look of guilt and look down at the floor. You knew they would eventually find out and get angry all over again for dragging the young man into this mess without thinking.
Adam had returned back from the bathroom in some new clothes when he cleaned himself up from being pulled out of the ground. He fixed himself a drink after being offered by Dean and headed for the cot again, deciding if they were going to get any sort of answers, the young man would do it. You shut your book and placed it down on the table, knowing you had to be present for this conversation to defend yourself when Adam spoke the truth. Dean pulled up a chair so he was now sitting on it backwards as Sam leaned himself against the desk and Cas remained at his spot previously. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing things were only going to get worse from what he was about to admit.
“So, why don’t you just tell us everything?” Dean asked the younger man, eager to hear what he had to say. “Start from the beginning”
“Well, I was dead and in Heaven…” Adam began, painting a picture that was easy to believe as he started to describe what his personal afterlife was like with a bit more vivid details that you particularly could have done without. “...Except it—it, uh, kind of looked like my prom. And I was making out with this girl. Her name was Kristin McGee.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Heaven.” Dean said. His lips stretched into a smirk, knowing enough that his own personal trip upstairs had the same kind of memory when he first got up there. It was of a better time in your relationship when you had given yourself to him in the backseat of the Impala. Before he told you about what he did to you in Hell...Dean quickly shook the thought out of his head and asked a sly question to forget the thought. “Did you get to third base?”
Sam cleared his throat as his eyes shifted to his older brother for a second from how he was losing focusing on the point of this conversation. “Just, uh...just keep going.”
“Well, these angels, they popped out of nowhere, and they tell me I’m chosen.” Adam explained to the younger man. You felt your hands grip around the edges of the desk as your nails dug into the wood as Sam asked what the man meant by that. “To save the world.”
“How are you gonna do that?” Dean asked, you could feel his eyes shift over to you.
“Oh, me and some archangel named Michael are gonna kill the Devil. I’m his sword or vessel or something.” Adam said, his tone casual as if this topic was like discussing the weather. And not about the fate of the world that now rested in his hands. You could feel his eyes shift over to you as he continued on talking about the plan they had told him. “They told me that Y/N’s his vessel and the reason why he’s walking free. Supposedly she can help us swing the fight so Heaven can win. I don’t know. They didn’t tell me that much.”
Dean chuckled at what he was hearing, “Well, that’s insane.”
“Not necessarily.” Cas said. The angel began to think about how this could work and what sort of benefit could come of this from the plan. Dean looked over at his shoulder and gave the angel a confused look from what he meant by that. “Maybe they’re moving on from you. Perhaps Y/N’s plan could work. He’s John Winchester’s bloodline, Y/N is the figurative spawn of Satan. She could be strong enough to be his vessel if she becomes a demon. It’s not perfect, but it’s possible.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath.
“Why would you do this, Y/N? You know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in playing both sides like this?” Sam questioned you as he turned his head to look at you. It seemed that his little puppy dog expression had been changed to pure anger. You looked away from him when he started to treat you like a small child who had no idea of what they were doing. “Don’t get me started if they figure out what you’re doing. Cas, do you really think they’ll do it?”
The angel shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe they’re desperate.”
"Maybe they've wrongfully assumed this world was going to be saved by a couple of idiots who do nothing but screw up." You said, cutting off the angel before he could say anything else. Your lips stretched into a smirk when Dean looked over his shoulder and at you. "Sorry, Dean. Hate to make all that self-pity go to waste."
“All right, you know what? Blow me, Y/N.”
You scoffed at his insult, “Kiss my ass, you son of a bitch.”
“After everything’s that happened. All that crap about density, suddenly Y/N gives the angels a Plan ‘B’ and they run with it?” Sam asked. You looked over at him when be brought up another point that you had thought about. “What happens if we can’t find a way to stop the Devil? Then what, Y/N?”
"You know, this has been a really moving family reunion, but, uh, I got a thing, so—"
“Sit your ass down.” You ordered to the younger man. The tone of voice that you had used took everyone by surprise. Enough was enough. You pushed yourself off the desk and eyed all of the men in this room, wanting to make it clear you were taking charge of the conversation. You looked back at Adam and told him the truth. “Hate to break it to you kid, but the only reason why I asked you to be brought back because you’re a distraction to keep the angels busy trying to get everything together for a fight that’s never gonna be. Here’s really what going to happen. All of us are going to work together on finding a way to send Lucifer back to the cage. Neither you or Dean are going to say yes to Michael. And, if you sons of bitches have a problem with my plan, you can shove your opinions up your tight asses.” You waited a moment for anyone to respond, and when all you got was silence, your lips stretched into a smirk. “Thought so. Now, if you excuse me, I have some research to do. Far, far away from here.”
You made it a beeline for the doorway, but before you could make a single step, Sam lightly grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you backwards. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Get back here, Y/N. Sit down. The both of you.” Sam said. He pulled you back to the desk as Adam sat back down on the cot, unwillingly. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the desk in defeat. But the look on your face was anything but submission to his plan. “The angels are lying to you two. They’re full of crap. There’s got to be some other reason why they’re doing this.”
"Yeah. I don't think so." Adam disagreed with the plan. Sam scoffed as he asked him why that could be. "Uh, because they're angels.”
“They tell you they were gonna roast half the planet?” Sam asked, wanting to make sure the kid knew well enough of what he was about to get himself into.
“They said the fight might get pretty hairy, but it is the Devil and his freak, right? We got to stop them.” Adam said. He nodded his head at you, with a sarcastic tone, he tried not to make his jab at you not as intention. “No offense.”
“None taken. Besides, it won’t be long until you’re dead. Again.” You said. “There’s another way, buddy. You’re not gonna fight.”
“Great.” Adam replied as he slapped his thighs with his palms. “You gonna tell us what it is?”
“Well, we’re working on the power of love.” Dean answered before you could. You narrowed your eyes on him from his response when Adam asked how it was going. “Not so good. You see, it's kind of hard when her heart is cold and black—like her soul.”
“Look, Adam,” Sam threw his older brother a dirty look from the rude remarks that didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He tried to focus back his attention to another family member that was about to get himself killed for what he might agree with. “You don't know me from a hole in the wall, I know, but I’m begging you. Please, just trust me. Give me some time.”
“Give me one good reason.” Adam said.
Sam let out a sigh, he tried to wrack his brain for any sort of response that was good enough for a man that he never really met until today. He went for something that was bold, but true. “Because we’re blood.”
Adam didn't seem to like that response, “You got no right to say that to me.”
“You're still John Winchester’s kid.” Bobby said.
“No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I didn't have a dad.” Adam corrected the older hunter. He looked at the brothers and you, wanting to make one thing clear. “So, we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family, and if I do my job, I get to see her again. So, no offense, but she's the one who I give a rat’s ass about, not you.”
“Fair enough.” Sam agreed. “But if you have one good memory of Dad—just one—then you’ll give us a little more time. Please.”
Adam fell silent from the pleading that was coming from his older brother that had never met before until today. He looked at the five of you, just a bunch of strangers that were standing in his way to getting what he really wanted, but for some reason, he agreed.
+ + +
While Adam was being kept an eye on by Bobby, and Sam was following you around like your shadow, it only meant the two hunters and angel had one last person to put on lock down. Dean didn't like this new plan that everyone seemed to have agreed with behind his back and neglected to ask his opinion on the situation without asking. He circled the panic room, as if he was going to find a way out of here and make his grand escape. This place was a fortress. Walls made of iron and salt, the door locked from the outside, making Dean a prisoner for however long they were going to keep him here. But it seemed he had company. He turned his head to the door as he watched it slowly open. You and Sam stood on the outside to talk. But from the look on your face, you were unwillingly a participant in this. Either Sam brought you down to make nice, or you were just trying to start another fight. So, Dean decided to go first and attempted to get under your skin. He wanna gonna keep going until you hated his guts. "Well, sweetheart, not for nothing," Dean said, deciding to make a move on you, despite the tension. "But the last time time you looked at me like that...I got laid." "Oh, I know that. But it's been a long time since that happened between us." You replied back as you crossed your arms over your chest. “The only thing that's been screwing me good and on the regular has been life.”
“Why don't you go keep an eye on Adam?” Sam suggested to you. You looked over at the oldest Winchester for a second, he gave you a wink for your remark to push things further along. “I’ll be up in a second. I just want to talk to Dean alone.”
You nodded your head and reached to close the heavy iron door, leaving the brothers alone for a moment in the panic room. You were about to turn back and given them the privacy that Sam wanted, but you found yourself staying back, curious to see what he wanted to speak about.
“Is this really necessary?” Dean asked, gesturing to the panic room that was a bit of an overkill for the man.
“Well, I mean, we got a hands full, Dean—a houseful of flight risks.” Sam chuckled out, obviously not liking how the situation had unfolded. Dean shook his head as he mentioned something about not letting them do it, the younger Winchester had an assumption for what he was trying to say. “Who, Adam and Y/N? No, I’m not, either. We’ll find a way to stop it.”
“No, you’re not getting me.” Dean said. His voice echoed slightly as you pressed your ear to the iron door, you could hear footsteps tread across the floor, as if he was walking across the room and away from his brother.
“Oh, no, no, I ‘get’ you perfectly. You wanna make sure Y/N’s safe. I want that, too. It’s a stupid thing of what she did, but Adam’s under control. He won’t do it. Neither of them will.” Sam said, agreeing with his brother on that point. “But I’m not letting you do it, either.”
You heard a silence fall between the brothers, your eyes adverted around for a moment as you tried your hardest to hear what they said next. "That kid's not taking a bullet for me. And there's no way in Hell Y/N's throwing herself to the wolves." Dean said with a matter of fact voice. Sam spoke his older brother's name, but the man cut him off. "I mean, think about how many people we've gotten killed, Sam. Mom, Dad, Y/N's parents, Jess, Jo, Ellen. Should I keep going?"
“It’s not like we pulled the trigger.” Sam said, as if that argument would be strong enough to validate the lives they had lost over the past few years.
"We might as well have. And to mention the things we did to Y/N alone. You pumping her full with demon blood, me torturing her and acting like nothing was wrong. I can't let her sacrifice herself for us. That's not fair." Dean said. You could hear just in his voice of how much sadness he was carrying around from the things that he had done in his past that he could never change. He wanted to only help, but the man seemed to only give pain to the people he loved. "I'm tired, man. I'm tired of fighting who I'm supposed to be."
“Funny, you’ve been treating Y/N like crap since she got here. You wanna tell me what the hell happened between the two of you?” Sam wasn’t falling for his brother’s depression as he tried to get to the bottom of what was going on. Dean remained silent. “Whatever. Do you think maybe you could take a half a second and stop trying to sacrifice yourself for a change? Maybe if you and Y/N make up we can actually stick together and solve this problem.”
“I don’t think so.” Dean muttered.
“Why not?” Sam questioned his older brother, trying to find a straightforward answer. “Dean, seriously. Tell me. I wanna know.”
“I don’t believe...in you. Or the three of us.” Dean admitted what had been bothering him for all these long days. You pressed your ear closer against the iron, Sam wasn’t the only one who was taken back from the answer. “I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood or some other demon chick or what, but...I do know they’re gonna find a way to turn you. Y/N’s not gonna be the one who takes your spot. But she's gonna be your reason. Like she’s mine.”
“So, you’re saying I’m not strong enough.” Sam said, wondering if that’s what he meant. His lips stretched into a smirk, as he was trying to move that he wasn’t weak. Or the man he was a little over a year ago. “I’m not gonna fall for whatever they throw my way.”
"You and Y/N always have been close. All she's ever done is baby you and sweep your problems under the rug. That's how it's been our entire life. And she would do anything for you. But she already did—and you’re pissed about it. You would rather take her spot than stomach the idea of her being the one who rots. And that’s how we say yes. It’s because of her.” Dean said. You felt like someone had thrown a weight on your shoulders and demanded you to hold it without making a sound. You bit the inside of your cheek from what you hearing that was a new confession that you never thought would come from Dean's mouth. “And don't forget about the demon blood, Sammy. If she turns, and you get a whiff—it's game over from there. I already seen before.”
“That was different, Dean.” Sam tried to defend himself at the harsh accusation being thrown against him. “It was famine that got me thinking that that way. I’m clean now.”
“You say that, but I can't trust you anymore. Not after Ruby, and going behind my back and starting this whole mess.” Dean said. He shifted the blame now on his little brother. It was either your or his fault, never would he admit himself that he was the one who had pushed the first domino. “You’re angry, you’re self-righteous. Lucifer’s gonna wear you to the prom, man. It’s just a matter of time until we do exactly what those sons of bitches want. If it's not the blood, then it's gonna be some attempt at saving Y/N. There’s no other way around it, man. You know it.”
“Don’t say that to me.” Sam hissed at his brother. He shook his head as he tried his hardest not to let his emotions the best of him. “Out of anyone...not you. We need you. Y/N needs you. And all you've been doing is putting her down. She doesn't know any better. None of us do!”
“I don't hate, Y/N. God knows I love the woman to death. She's always been the one who tried to keep us together. But...she's also gonna be the who tears us apart. It's the truth Sammy, and you know it." Dean told his brother. You tried your hardest to keep yourself from ripping down the door and telling him off. But you couldn’t do that. Because you knew there was truth into what he was saying. The three of you would do just about anything to save one another. Everyone knew that. That’s how it’s gonna end, because you were blinded by own your obsession to save one another. “And when Satan takes you over, there’s got to be somebody there to fight him, and it ain’t gonna be that kid. We don’t have any options to ice the Devil, so it’s got to be me. I have to be the one who saves this family.”
You stepped away from the door after listening to what Dean had said, suddenly overcome with several different emotions that you weren't sure which one was the right one to respond with. You didn't know If you wanted to scream, cry or tell someone off about what you were hearing. But the one thing you knew for sure was that you needed to get out of here. And quick. You managed to race up the basement stairs and back to the first floor of the house without Sam catching you. The only thought on your mind was trying to get some air. You quietly tried to walk to the front door, but you were stopped when Bobby managed to catch you just in time. You let out a frustrated sigh and looked at him, wondering what he was trying to accomplish here. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bobby asked, you rolled your eyes. "I just need some air. Okay?" You told him the truth, quickly reaching a hand to wipe away a tear that escaped your eye without even realizing it. You managed to get your emotions under control for a moment when you noticed Bobby's expression softened slightly at what you had done. You rolled your eyes at his sympathy you really didn't want right now. "Look, I'm not going anywhere even if I wanted to. I promise you that’ll stay. I just need some space..away from here for five freaking minutes."
You unlocked the front door when Bobby looked away from you, making you believe that was enough permission to unlock the front door and step out to the cold night air that you hoped would be more of a comforting friend that the ones around you had been lately. Cas stepped out from the library to see a shadowy figure become lost in the rubble of the graveyard of scraps. He looked down at the older hunter, wondering why he would have done such a thing, Bobby shook his head, knowing that out anyone, you were all just talk. There was no way you would be leaving anytime soon. There was no reason why. Sam's footsteps echoed off the walls as his tall figure appeared out from the basement. The same look of defeat was settled in his expression. However the conversation had started with his brother, it wasn't hard to assume it didn't end well. Cas looked over at Adam, who had been sleeping peacefully on the cot for the past few hours, along with Dean in the panic room, showing no signs of escape. He turned his attention to the window that overlooked the yard, as his eyes narrowed, it appeared to the two hunters that the angel was trying to look for something. "Excuse me," The angel headed for the front door and stepped out to the porch. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
The angel found himself walking out to the yard and trying to find where you were. If he had learned anything from the Winchesters and human emotions while he down on earth, it was that friends were there for one another during times of distress. Cas walked for a minute until he stopped in his tracks, the not too far distant sounds of someone's sobs caught his attention, he knew where they were coming from. The angel followed the noises until he rounded the back of the house, finding where you had ended up. You sat on the back steps of the house with your back turned to him and your knees close to your chest. You were trying your hardest not to let anyone hear you crying from inside the house to let them worry.
"Y/N?" You accidentally jumped a bit from the sound of someone's voice breaking your concentration away from what you had been doing. It was a moment of a few sniffles as you quickly wiped away the tears to look over your shoulder slightly, giving the angel a peek at your bloodshot eyes and face full of sadness. You told him to go away, but he had a feeling you wanted him to stay. "Would you like to talk?" You slowly put your guard down as you stretched out your legs and looked at him in the eye again, giving him a glimpse of what you had been doing. "Why? You here to tell me that my plan is stupid? That all of this is somehow my fault?" You asked him with a sarcastic tone of voice. "Trust me, I've heard it enough from everyone. I just wanna be alone, Cas." "I don't think you should be. I know you're sad. And I'm your friend. We listen to one another's problems when they're upset. That's what friends do, right?" The angel asked, almost seeming to be like a small child who had no clue. He seemed so nervous himself, but you could sense he was serious about this.  You looked at him with a bit of a surprise expression from what he had said. His lips stretched into a faint smile, you found yourself slowly being lifted from your thinking as you let out a bit of a chuckle from how he was behaving. You rolled your eyes and moved over slightly so he could take a seat next to you. Both of you sat there for a moment in silence, unsure of what to do next, so, Cas asked you again. "What's bothering you, Y/N?"
You kept silent for another few seconds. You tried not to let everything spill out all at once, but it did, you could feel another rush of tears suddenly come over you at his question. “Do you ever feel like everything's your fault? You ever think, ‘If I wasn't born, maybe this world wouldn't be so screwed after all.’” You asked someone who didn't know much about human emotions, but it showed when Cas had honestly answered with a no. He backed it up by saying that it must be hard, feeling like that burden being on your mind all day. “I mean, I understand that I’m not a good person. It's fine that God didn't create me. I screw up on the regular. I don't mean to. I’m honestly trying. But...I don't wanna be blamed for what's gonna happen. That's too much.”
Cas furrowed his brow, “Be blamed for what?”
“For being the reason why Sam and Dean say yes. That's not supposed to happen. Everything that I have been doing for them was so they didn't get to that point!” You admitted. You bit your bottom lip as you kept another sob from escaping. Dean’s words still replayed in your head like a bad tune that made you feel all sorts of emotions that were full of darkness and guilt. “The boys have always been there for me. From the second my mom passed away, to not making a big deal about me turning into a freaking demon. I was making those deals to help. So it could buy us some more time. Because, no matter what you wanna believe, there is a way to stop Lucifer. But....the thing that kills me the most is Dean. He doesn't believe his own family can stop this fate. And...And he thinks what I’m doing is just going to ruin things. Maybe he's right. Maybe this is all my fault.”
“No, it isn't.” Cas tried to reassure you. “This has been planned out before either one of you were put on this earth. We’ll find a way to stop this.”
“What if we can't?” You asked him. Your eyes were glazed over again when you looked at the angel, letting him witness a sort of vulnerability that he had never seen before in you before. You looked defeated and drained of any emotion, all because of what you had overheard Dean say, making you believe something that wasn’t true. “What if the fight really happens and all of this has been a waste?”
Cas didn't know what to say to make you feel better. He noticed from the fluorescent lights above that you looked exhausted from the lack of sleep you must have been getting over the past few day. Or maybe it's been months of restless nights with a mind that never stopped worrying about the people around her. Never in his thousands of years of living would he have been sitting outside, feeling sorry for a half-demon that was the spawn of the Devil. But you had been far different from his expectations of who you were becoming. For something that had so much anger and evilness, you were giving him a side of yourself that showed what being a human was all about--love, sacrifice. Over the past year alone, you and Cas had sacrificed so much to make sure the Winchesters wouldn’t say no. And that made the angel feel something that was all new to him. It was a sense of an emotion that would be felt if someone had hurt a person they were close with. It was what you might call protectiveness.
You looked away from him and let out a sigh, not knowing what he was about to do. The angel pressed two fingers against your forehead and watched as your eyelids slowly fluttered shut, the result of what he had done made you lean over him until you were resting on his shoulder. You would be in a deep sleep for the next few hours. The angel made sure to keep you in a comfortable position on the porch for a moment as he got up and headed back inside the house.
The angel peered inside the house to see Sam was occupied with getting himself a drink in the kitchen as Bobby sat at his desk once more, both of them were distracted. Cas walked forward to the basement doorway and headed downstairs. He quietly approached the panic room, deciding it would be best to have a talk with Dean. If anyone could talk some sense in the man, Cas might be lucky. As the angel approached the last step, his attention was quickly brought over to the iron door when he heard a crashing sound coming from inside the panic room.
Cas called out the oldest Winchester’s name as he walked forward with caution, wondering if this was some kind of trick, or he was hurt. He peered into the small slit in the door and peered into the room. The angel noticed the table was knocked over and a light bulb was broken, leaving fragments of broken glass. Cas did what he thought was right, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, wanting to make sure the man was okay.
The angel glanced around the room, wondering where Dean was, but when he spotted him next to the closet door with it open, blood smeared on the mental with a sigil that was all too familiar for Cas, he knew what this was. It was a trap. Cas tried to warn the man not to do this, but before he could, Dean pressed his hand against the door, a sudden burst of light made him shut his eyes for a moment before it faded. When it did, the oldest Winchester noticed that it worked, Cas was blown to somewhere else. He didn't really care. There was precious moments he had before someone noticed what he was doing.
Dean cautiously stepped out from the panic room and walked over to a rack that he tossed a coat of his after getting down here. He grabbed it and put it on, knowing it was chilly out there. As he slipped out his keys, Dean waited a moment to see if anyone had noticed what he’d done, all he had gotten was pure silence. The man walked to the small staircase that lead out to the backyard of the house. Quietly, he followed a path around the place, he passed by the back steps, not seeming to expect anyone would be here. But he stopped for a second when he noticed your body. He froze in his spot, waiting for you to move, yet you remained motionless for a few moments. Dean moved forward to see what was wrong with you.
A small smile spread across his lips at the sight of you passed out on the porch, your head resting on the side of the house. Your endless days of little sleep and countless hours of doing research for a way out had finally caught up to you. Instead of appearing frustrated, you looked so peaceful. Dean could feel his throat tighten at all the things he had said over the past few days. None of them which what he meant. For some reason, in his twisted plan of getting to that thing called paradise and the sweet offer that was waiting for the both of you, he lashed out at you. He wanted you to hate him for long as you were still alive. Because it would be easier to think the both of you could start all over again when the problems of the world would be over.
There would be no more monsters to fight, he could just focus on you. The idea of living in a perfect world where he could be with the people he loved was the reason why he was doing this. Maybe if he were younger he could keep on fighting. But at this stage in his life, after losing so many people, he was tired. There were too many hurdles standing in his way, and he was running out of effort to keep fighting.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He whispered to your sleeping figure. He gave himself a moment to bend down and softly pressed his lips against your forehead, giving you a kiss goodbye. “But I gotta do this, sweetheart. Not you.”
Dean left you alone on the porch steps of Bobby's house, after he blasted Cas off to another part of the world, who really knew. But his head was clear for the first time in eight months. He knew what he was about to do, he was gonna say yes to Michael. And nobody was going to stand in his way of getting what he wanted.
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ceciditangxl-blog · 7 years
Text
Stretch Your Wings
Some Gabriel and Castielle fluff because I can. 
Warning: Warm and fuzzy feelings ahead, enter at your own risk
Castielle felt like they had been battling the apocalypse forever. It seemed like every time they pushed back one world ending catastrophe, a new one rose to take its place. If she weren’t an angel, they would have begun to blend into each other in her head. 
The constant war on the never ending end times was exhausting all around, though Castielle was much better at hiding that than her human counterparts. It wasn’t so much the physical exhaustion that got her, that was easily recovered from, it was the mental and emotional strain that got her. 
It sounded selfish and vain, but the angel hadn’t had any time to take any kind of care of herself beyond the absolute necessities. Her wings, which currently sat folded against her back, were an complete disaster. She hadn’t had the chance to even try and maintain them since she had first led the charge into hell to rescue Dean. 
Just thinking about the state of her poor wings made Castielle depressed. Wings were a source of pride for angels, a direct link to their grace, to the very thing that made them angels. To have hers in such a state was shameful at best. 
Pulling herself from the rapidly spiralling train of thought, Castielle shakes her head. Sam and Dean were away on a hunt, which she assumed was going well as they hadn’t called on her yet, and they would not be back for a few days. She would be alone for that period of time, she figured she might as well make good use of it. 
She stood up from the armchair in the library she had been occupying for the last little while, and made her way to her bedroom. The light flicked on as she walked in. The room was sparsely decorated, Cas’s tastes were simple and minimalist. She dug through the dresser opposite the bed, looking for something more comfortable to wear in the place of her usual business casual attire. It would have been simple enough for her to simply change her clothes with a mere thought, but she had found that she enjoyed the motions of changing her clothing the human way. 
Once she was in a plain black tee and a pair of dark wash jeans, she left the room, turning the light off on her way out. She slipped on a pair of running shoes and made sure the bunker was locked up before leaving. She touched down in an empty field a few miles out from the bunker. It was a considerably large field, littered with wildflowers and fireflies. 
Castielle paused for a second to simply take in the scene in front of her, somewhere in the distance she could hear rushing water. For a moment she was reminded of heaven, back when she was still a fledgling, spending most of her time playing with Gabriel. An intense feeling of longing flashed through her at the thought of the archangel, but she shoved it down, determined not to let her grief ruin the night. 
She doubled check to make sure she was completely alone. Then she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and willed her wings into physical form. At first they only appear in their smaller form, as she would normally have them do, but tonight she plans to indulge herself. She wills them to manifest at their true size, over double what they were now. 
She can feel them responding, stretching out, reaching for the edge of the forest that surrounded her. It felt as if a rope that had been tightly tied around her was unravelling. Being in a human vessel is restrictive, even claustrophobic at times, especially for long periods of time. She feels the tension leaving her, making it easier to breathe, even though she didn’t actually need to. The relief flooded her and for the barest of seconds she was overwhelmed by it. 
Her wings now stood at their full size, just over 16ft from tip to tip. It felt amazing to Cas, to feel the air against her wings, the grass brushing against the tips of her feathers. She rolled her shoulders and her neck, further releasing the pent up tension from her body. She reaches out with her grace, willing the winds to pick up, to which the oblige. Then she gathers herself and gives her wings a shake, feeling the wind rush through them. The air quickly became filled with hundreds of feathers, blanketing the field in black and drak blues and greens. 
It’s not a complete fix, but it feels a hell of a lot better than nothing. In fact she’s so engrossed in the feeling that she fails to notice that she is no longer alone. Somewhere at the edge of the woods, Gabriel stands, leaning against a tree as he watches Castielle stretch her wings in what appears to be a very long time. Even in the dark he can clearly see that she has been neglecting herself. He shook his head, not surprised in the least. Cas was always the first to sacrifice her needs where others were concerned, it came with the whole too much heart thing. 
He was only there because he had picked up on that brief flash of longing earlier, in fact he hadn’t even intended on staying, he was just going to pop in, make sure she was okay and quietly exit stage right. But after seeing the sad state she was in, those plans quickly changed. He sighed, moving from the cover of the trees and out into the open. 
He got exactly 6ft from her when she finally noticed him. She turned around, the shock evident on her face. “Gabriel?” She asked, a little in disbelief. It took her a second to process that he was really standing in front of her, very much alive and well. Then her expression became confused. “How are you here?” She asked. 
Gabriel simply shook his head. “We can play catch up later. How are you?” He questioned, eyes moving to her wings. 
Castielle opened her mouth to tell him that she was fine purely out of habit, but as she saw him eyeing her wings, she realized that she couldn’t get away with that lie this time. He could clearly see what bad shape she was in, so she might as well be honest about it. She swallowed harshly. “I have not had time to care for myself beyond the basics.” She says instead. 
“I can see that featherbrain.” He replied.
Cas is unsure what to say next, so she opts to press her lips together and not say anything at all. 
A sigh from Gabriel. “Well let’s take care of that then, before you run off to save the world again.”
Castielle nodded, still not sure what to say. She turns around, lowering herself down to sit on the grass. Gabriel follows suit, sitting cross legged behind the younger angel. It’s been so long since he’s groomed another angel’s wings that he’s worried he’s forgotten how to do it. His worries are quickly put to rest when his hands begin to move on instinct, innately knowing what to do. He starts by running his fingers through her feathers, gently pulling out the dead and loose ones. The wind had begun the process but a lot of them had become tangled and stuck in clumps. 
Castielle was admittedly anxious about the whole process, afraid that Gabriel would look down on her for letting herself get in this condition. But as each minute passed and he said nothing, she began to relax. The process was actually quite relaxing, and it made Castielle realize just how long it had been since she had actually socialized with another angel like this. Slowly her shoulders dropped, her posture becoming less and less stiff. She felt silly for doubting Gabriel, he had always been the kindest to her, before he had run off from heaven he had been her favourite. 
It took a while, but they were angels, patience was a part of the package, especially when things like centuries felt like nothing but the blink of an eye. Eventually the clumps of moulted feathers were gone, and Gabriel was able to move on to the next step. By this time it was close to sunrise, by neither of them paid that any attention, they weren’t expecting to be interrupted. Any human who may happen to stumble across them would only see a field littered in black feathers. 
Next Gabriel had to stimulate the oil glands to get back to work, and clear anything else that might be blocking them. An angel’s wings were almost living things, a living organism, a physical limb of their grace. As his fingers delicately massaged the tendons of her wings, he imagined that her wings were asleep, and as he worked he reached out with his own grace, encouraging them to wake up. 
Meanwhile Castielle was long lost in the feeling, which was heavenly, and that meant something coming from someone who was from heaven. As Gabriel’s grace, the pure essence of an archangel, touched hers she felt what humans called euphoria. It was pure, unadulterated bliss. She truly felt as if she were waking up after having been groggy and half asleep for so long. At some point Gabriel had begun to hum softly under his breath, a random yet soothing tune. Apparently after all this time Gabriel still knew how to tell exactly what Castielle needed, even when she herself did not know it. 
Once the glands had begun producing oils again, he paused to lean back, making a satisfied grunt. Cas couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Getting back to work, Gabriel once more ran his hands through the thick mass of sleek darkness, spreading the oils to the parched feathers. The difference was immediately noticeable. The feathers began to gleam, already looking healthier. It was during this process that Gabriel was reminded of how much he adored Castielle’s wings.
Even as a fledgling Cas had been special, right down to her wings. She was the only one with black wings, which unfortunately had led to a lot of bullying from the others, but he had always done his best to help the younger angel shake the comments off. He had always been convinced that her wings would be beautiful when they reached maturity, and he was pleased to find that he was correct. 
The rich black was accented by dark blues and greens, which blended in perfectly with each other, reflecting their respective colours when the light hit them just right. Gabriel had six, perfectly golden wings strapped to him, but they felt a bit lacking in comparison to the intricate beauty of Castielle’s. It took a bit, simply due to the sheer size of her wings, and how thick they were as well, but eventually Gabriel was satisfied with his work. He leaned back, but not before giving Cas a friendly pat on the back. 
“There you go Cassie, good as new.” He declared. 
It took Castielle a second to even register his words, having been so deep in the feeling of having her wings groomed. She shook her head, coming back to her senses. “Thanks Gabe, I think I really needed that.” She confessed. 
Gabriel laughed. “I’d have to agree, you really outta take better care of yourself kiddo.” 
“I’ll tell you what, you can save the world, and the Winchester’s asses, and I’ll sit around preening all day.” She teased. 
Gabriel smirked. “Cassie! Was that a joke? From you?” He poked at her, to which she rolled her eyes. “Good to see you haven’t become all work and no play.”
“That’s because there’s no such thing as work as long are you’re around.”
“Castielle! You wound me.” Gabriel said with mock hurt.
“And my point exactly.” She’s smiling though, she can’t help it, the archangel’s optimism is too infectious. 
“Hey featherbrain?”
“Yes Gabriel?”
“Wanna go for a flight? Stretch those wings out properly?”
A short pause. “I thought you’d never ask.
And with that the two took off into the air, soaring over the forest and confusing some early morning hikers who could’ve sworn they saw some very large birds. 
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kalicofox · 7 years
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Dream 2, 3/23/2017
No, you aren’t missing Dream 1. I forgot it, and it’s pissing me off, because it was cool as hell. Anyway, the dream was actually a lot shorter than this, but I thought it’d make a good story, so here it is.
Mike was being an asshole again. Not that that was a surprise. Mike was almost always an asshole. It was sort of his thing. Most of us were pretty sure that he didn't exactly mean it, but that he just had no idea how to communicate without being acerbic and cutting. Still, this brand of assholery was different. Almost like how he'd been when he'd broken his finger against the pool wall and hadn't told anyone until the meet was over. He hadn't wanted to interrupt it, he'd said. He'd wanted to stay until it was over. But what the hell could he have hurt himself on? The jackass hadn't even gotten in the pool yet today; too focused on delivering blistering diatribes for perceived failures to his teammates. He hadn't fallen, either, and coach would have had his head on a pike if he (or anyone) showed up drunk or hungover, so it couldn't be that either... So what the hell was going on? I finished my lap, then hauled myself out of the pool and stalked over to him seizing him up and searching for a visible sign of whatever it was that was making him act like a bear with a beehive up its butt. There. A wince of discomfort that was accompanied by his eyes flickering, just for a moment, to a flat black. Oh. Well that made much more sense. He was Turning. Grinning widely, I stuck two fingers in my mouth and blew hard, letting loose a shrieking whistle that cut through all of the noise in the echoing room the pool was located in, and getting everyone's attention. Hmmm. There were a couple of Harpies watching. Probably not a good idea for them to stick around. The Dragons, too. He'd be on edge enough with just water-based people around. Keeping air and fire around'd be probably a bad idea. "Can we get some privacy, please?" I called, letting the acoustics of the room carry my voice around, "We've got a new Change happening, and it looks like a water type, so..." Surprised, pleased murmurs sprung up here and there, and in ones and twos, all the non-compatible elements packed up and headed out, shooting thumbs up and broad smiles toward Mike, who just stared after them, confused. The few humans who usually showed up to watch practices were the last to leave, and they actually had to be chivvied out by Frank, who's disappointed frown I'm pretty sure could cow even the Dean. "So who's Turning?" Mike asked, a belligerent edge to the curious tone in his voice. I raised my eyebrow at him. "Really?" "What?" Mike asked, and I sighed, then reached out to poke him in the upper arm. "You are, dumbass." Mike nodded, half turning away from me to look at the pool, then did a double take, whipping around to stare at me. I couldn't help it; I started snickering, the dumbfounded look on his face pure hilarity to someone who'd already gone through her change years ago. "Wait, what? That's not possible!" "Why not?" I wanted to know, and Mike, it seemed, was happy to tell me. "Because I'm human! I've been human for my whole life!" "Uh huh." I nodded, "That's how it works, you're human for your whole life, up until you're not. Then you're something else, depending on your genetics." I paused for a moment, then, "How'd you make it to college without learning this in Bio?" Mike flushed, narrowing his eyes at me, "That's not what I meant, (last name), and you know it. My family's been human for the last ten generations. I know. I did the genealogy as my senior project in high school, and had it independently verified." I shrugged, "Then someone further than ten generations out must have been one of us, and now so are you." The flush vanished. "That can happen? Even so far back? Everyone always makes it sound like you've either got whole lines of Changers going back generations, or you're straight human, or you're half." I shrugged again. "Don't look at me, dude, I'm just the one who noticed you were changing. I don't know the really complicated shit. Now get in the pool." Mike blinked. "What?" Wow, sounds like the Change is really bringing down his IQ. "The pool." I said, as patiently as I could, "Get in." "Oh. Right." He was already in the speedo most of the guys on the swim team wore,  but the baggy green hoodie he'd been wearing over it was shucked faster than I'd've thought possible, and tossed aside as Mike headed toward the deeper of the two pools. "Jesus christ," someone muttered, and of course the others were watching. Mike was ours. I felt like an idiot for forgetting that, but I was mostly too busy controlling the urge to go hunt down and maim whatever had left the myriad of red welts on Mike shoulders, chest, and back. "What the hell happened to you?" I demanded, catching up with him in a couple of easy strides. Mike ducked his head, the tips of his ears turning pink. "It itched." He muttered, "Really bad, all right?" Oh. Oh, of course. That makes sense. There's no telling if he'll be mer or siren, but for both species the first change makes you itch horribly. It's the only way your body has to tell you to get in the damn water. And of course Mike would have avoided getting in. Not only would all of us have seen the scratches, but the salt water would have stung like a bitch. Or at least, if he was human it would have. Either mer or siren, once he's in the water, those scratches'll be, if not completely gone, then at least greatly reduced. For a second, he paused at the edge of the pool, and, without even checking my stride, I reached out, pushed him in, and dove in after him.
As soon as I hit the water, I let the part of my brain that held my physical form to one particular shape relax. For a moment I blurred at the edges, turning grey and wispy and insubstantial, then I exerted my will again and solidified as something very different than what I'd gone in as. More muffled splooshes told me that the rest of the swim team was joining us, and in a very short time indeed the pool was full of brightly colored scales and grinning faces. Mike, meanwhile, had kicked his way back up to the surface and was holding on to the edge of the pool. Someone else, Taylor, judging from the broad grey flukes that bumped gently against the pool wall, had joined him, and for a moment I was tempted to just let Taylor handle it all. Out of everyone on the team, she was the one who had the easiest time dealing with Mike's abrasiveness. She claimed that it came from knowing him so long. That she could tell what he really meant, and what was just him being socially inept, and for the most part, it looked like she could. But no. I'm the one who'd dumped the news on him. I should at least check and make sure he's fine.
I surfaced a couple feet away, finned my way forward a bit, and caught Taylor's eye. "Oh good." The relief on her face was near instant, and my eyebrows jumped nearly to my hairline. "His feet are cramping." She explained, and I winced. The first change is never fun. Your body has to get used to the idea that it isn't always going to be one shape, and oftentimes the second shape is wildly different from the first one. Still, I thought, letting myself slip back underneath the surface, this confirmed it. He's a siren. Mers, a lot of people say, are lucky. They don't have the same bone structure that Sirens do, so they don't have to deal with foot and toe and leg cramps as the bones rearrange and stretch. Sirens, however, say that they're luckier than Mers, because at least they stay warm blooded. It's an ongoing argument, and sometimes it's hard to tell if they're arguing over who's better, or who should feel worse for who. It was easy enough to catch Mike by one ankle, and for a second he flailed, kicking wildly until I could pin his legs both to the wall, my forehead throbbing where he'd nailed me with his knee. When he stopped struggling, I let him go, grabbed the ankle again, and, careful of my claws, started to massage his foot. It wouldn't actually feel good. Nothing would, until the change actually finished, but it would help keep his muscles from knotting up so badly that they got damaged by his bones stretching. Already I could feel his skin thickening, and his feet were longer, and, glancing up to check how much of his legs had grafted themselves, I swore, then let go of the leg I'd been working on and rocketed upwards with one pump of my own tail. "Take off the speedo!" I demanded as soon as my mouth cleared the surface of the water. Mike spluttered, but Taylor looked alarmed. "What?!" "Take it off!" I snapped, "If you don't, your legs won't graft properly, the blood vessels won't align properly, the bones will try to shape around it, and everything will grow wrong. You'll be essentially crippled in your siren form for the rest of your life! Take it off!" Mike's face went dead white, and I have, to this day, never seen someone shimmy out of a bathing suit as quickly as he did, keening softly as he bumped his aching, growing feet against the pool walls. Finally, a sodden lump of fabric thwapped to the rough concrete a few feet away from the edge of the pool, and Mike clung once again to the wall, his face still chalk white and drawn with pain. "Good job." I said, trying to smile reassuringly, and sank beneath the water again. There was the faintest hint of blood in the water, and I tried to ignore the taste as I filtered water through my gills. It was fine now. He'd gotten it off in time. Barely. But still. It was fine, and I still needed to help. Reaching out, I grabbed his ankle again and restarted the massage.
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