#except I don't because you didn't do any of this
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Akihiko: It took you a long time to fulfill your promise.
Leal: *his trusted friend and husband* My apologies, Master Akihiko.
Akihiko: *smiles* You don't need to apologize.
Leal: Thank you—
Akihiko: However, I expect the utmost service from you.
Leal: Y-Yes!
Leal: *sigh*
Leal's sister: Did you get an earful from your wife—er, your husband?
Leal: Yes...
Leal's sister: It's not like I'm agreeing to him, but why did it take you so long?
Leal: ...
Leal: Master Akihiko and Lady Yuurin came from prestigious and affluent family. You must be exceptional to seek their hand in marriage.
Leal's sister: ...
Leal's sister: You're not that exceptional, brother.
Leal: I know. That's why Master Akihiko helped me to be one.
Leal's sister: Ah... That makes sense now.
Leal's sister: Though you could've just seek for his sister's hand—
Leal: You shouldn't say that!
Leal's sister: Huh? Why not—
Akihiko: Leal?
Leal: !!!
Leal: *slowly turns around* Y-Yes?
Akihiko: *smiles* Nothing. Please continue to enjoy your chat with your sister.
Leal and his sister: ...
Leal's sister: I'm going back to my room...
Sebek: WHAT CAN YOU SAY, HUMAN?! ISN'T DIASOMNIA THE BEST DORM YOU'VE EVER SEEN?!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: No.
Sebek: WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU!
Yuurin: I consider Savanaclaw to be the best dorm simply because I'm a member of it, and Leona-senpai and the others treat me with kindness and respect.
Sebek: Now that you explained it like that...
Yuurin: Though I appreciate you sharing stories of your housewarden. No wonder you admire him a lot.
Sebek: ...
Sebek: Human... I CAN TELL YOU MORE ABOUT WAKA-SAMA IF YOU'LL ALLOW ME!
Yuurin: Sure.
*After chatting for hours*
Yuurin: If there is a Malleus-aficionado, it would be you.
Sebek: *exhales with pride*
Yuurin: Anyway, it's late. I have to head back to my dorm.
Sebek: What?! We will be having a sleepover! You can't just go yet!
Yuurin: I don't have pajamas with me.
Sebek: Wait here! *goes to rummage through his drawers*
Sebek: I've got a spare one!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *after Sebek gave her privacy to change into his pajamas*
Sebek: You don't look bad, human!
Yuurin: Thank you.
Sebek: Let's go! Lilia-sama and Waka-sama are already waiting in the lounge area!
*Malleus, Lilia, and Silver staring at Yuurin.*
Lilia: Ooh~ Sebek~ Are you best buddies now?
Sebek: N-No, Lilia-sama! Yuurin didn't bring any pajamas so I've decided to lend him mine!
Malleus and Silver: ...
Malleus: Well, Lilia and I have prepared activities we could do.
Silver: While I made sure to get the comfiest pillows we have in the dorm.
Lilia: Yes! Let's have fun for the rest of the night!
Leona: Yuurin! Why are you just arriving now?!
Yuurin: It was a sleepover.
Leona: *frowns* *then sighs*
Leona: Would it hurt you to send a single message?
Yuurin: I'm sorry.
Leona: ...
Leona: Tch. Here's a punishment for worrying your housewarden.
Leona: You'll only talk to me with your girl voice.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Is that a punishm—
Leona: Girl voice.
Yuurin: *switches to her feminine voice* I don't see that as a punishment, Leona-senpai.
Leona: It is. Deal with it.
Akihiko: *chuckles* I agree with Yuurin. That is not a punishment, Leona.
Leona: Hmph. As if I could ever punish her.
Akihiko: True. *chuckles*
Leona: Oi, Aki.
Akihiko: Hm?
Leona: When are you going to tell Yuurin you got married, huh?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: I will tell her personally. Or she would get the wrong idea. *chuckles*
Leona: ...
Leona: You are in Sunset Savannah now.
Leona: Though, seriously? Leal?
Akihiko: Leal is trustworthy.
Akihiko: And he is scared of me.
Leona: ...
Leona: Yuurin mentioned to me that her brother is a gentle soul.
Leona: *smirks* I guess she's wrong about that?
Akihiko: *chuckles* No. Yuurin has always been a good judge of character.
Leona: ...
Leona: By the way, on Yuurin's debut, what's your plan?
Akihiko: ...
Akihiko: I want her to wear the prettiest gown.
Leona: Ha! We're thinking the same!
#twisted wonderland#twst yuurin#twst akihiko/akane#twst leona#twst sebek#twst malleus#twst lilia#twst silver#twst oc leal#twst unveil
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AITA for moving a box of spaghetti?
I (24F) live with my retired parents (66M, 66F). I pay rent (though significantly below market rate) and I pay for all my own expenses (groceries, insurances, phone, etc.). I also provide free live-in pet care when my folks travel, which they tend to do for weeks at a time.
My mom is kind of a control freak about the house. I am not allowed to have visitors, or any belongings outside the confines of my room. She also used to extend this to my room, but not since I turned 18. When I was in high school, I had to secretly buy and assemble a desk while she was at work because she thought a desk would "ruin the aesthetic" of my room. The only exception to the "no stuff" rule is in the kitchen, as perishable foods don't really do well in bedrooms.
She has decided it is her New Project to segregate all of their food from my food. I don't have an issue with that in itself. However, she is intent on doing it completely unilaterally. She first did the freezer, which she showed me excitedly. I was like "Oh, cool. Do you think we could switch which drawer is mine? I was used to using this one". And she absolutely freaked out, because I am not a ROOMMATE, I am a GUEST, and how DARE I have the ENTITLEMENT to tell HER where to put things in the house SHE OWNS. Please note that here she is screaming so loud that my friend, waiting for me outside, could hear her from their car.
We had a similar exchange when she showed me the fridge! I didn't have an issue with the actual organization there, but I was still like "hey you seem really stoked to show me this. I wish you would communicate about it beforehand though. Even if you're going to do it anyway, I feel like it's an act of respect to let me know what your plan is before you just start touching and moving my stuff". That again, didn't go well.
Today she decided to tackle the pantry. At this point this is a sore spot for me. I am like, physically holding myself back from heckling her as she does this. It doesn't help that she started doing this right before I was about to make myself breakfast so I am Hangry. She finishes like, an hour and a half later. I make my food. I notice that the way she has arranged my pasta, you can't get at any of the stuff without taking it all out of the cabinet. I fix it while still keeping all of my stuff on My side, but I have to remove a box of spaghetti because it doesn't fit quite right. I put it on the counter while I clean my pan because I'm not sure how I'm going to address it. I am definitely aware there is a chance I'm going to get yelled at, but I move it anyway.
While I'm scrubbing, my mom comes into the kitchen, sees the spaghetti box on the counter, and starts screaming bloody murder at me, at "audible down the street" levels. To the point where I was very viscerally upset for hours.
I obviously know that the severity of her reaction is literally insane, especially because I didn't even yell back at her. However, I'm torn on how justified I actually am in wanting to be included in the organization of the kitchen. AM I being entitled about this? Should I just let my mom do what she wants or should I keep trying to advocate for myself?
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I often feel like I'm gonna sound like a broken cassette and that this is too obvious and yet I get unpleasantly surprised every time.
Once again, friendly reminder that Darius' job was being a Coven Head, not "bullying Hunter all day". Palisman logs confirmed he ignored him, pretty much like everybody else (except some of the other Coven Heads DID pick on Hunter, physically pushing him around even) because Hunter was NOT his responsibility at the time and he did not know Hunter was being abused. Where do you all even get that, seriously...
The Any Sport in a Storm outburst was so obviously about Darius' issues with his mentor's disappeareance/death. But maybe I shouldn't say "obviously" since I don't think people process that unless they think about him for more than five minutes before hurrying to say he's shitty. It's not a justification, but people act as if he had been rude to Hunter just because it was in his calendar.
And then sometimes people dislike Darius via "vibes" and the vibes are racism lmao. Tell me where's this energy for Eda, aka another adult who didn't want to warm up to a kid and made mistakes to end up a good parent, who even told King once she would "break every bone in his body". Like we all know she didn't mean it and she wouldn't but she had been raising King since he was a baby??? If Darius had done that, the fandom would have torn him apart.
It doesn't escape me what the difference is between Eda and Darius.
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Coryo from the academy being bullied by his classmates, the reader defends him, but with other intentions *wink, wink*
Oh dear anon this is an idea I didn't know I needed but I legit fell in love with it! This is also my first time writing Academy Coryo and I really enjoyed it, he’s just so innocent I can't...
nsfw / mdni / academy!sub!coryo / academy!dom!reader
You were on your way to the library when you noticed a couple of girls taunting Coriolanus Snow in the hallway.
He was a year younger than you and you didn't know much about him except for the obvious fact that he was cute. And apparently he had some money problems because the whole conflict was about some extra food he had taken from the cafeteria for later.
“I knew it!” Valentia Frost looked upon him with an evil grin waving that goddamn sandwich in the air.
“Look at this little snob trying to act like he's one of us, but the Snows are actually a bunch of hungry beggars. So pathetic!”
Coriolanus stood by the wall completely frozen clutching at his textbooks. His face was flooded in red and you noticed tears welling up in his big blue eyes. He looked as if he was about to die from embarrassment and you suddenly felt sorry for him. Luckily you had the reputation of a menace after you had knocked out the biggest guy in your class when he tried to put a frog down your shirt.
“Leave him alone Valentia!” you shouted at her across the hallway. “The boy just wants to eat.”
“What are you his chaperone now?” The mean girl looked annoyed by your interference but she was also hesitant to push your buttons.
You approached her and stood dangerously close.
“Just fuck off!” You hissed and she reluctantly walked away, her clique following her immediately.
You grabbed Coryo by the hand and dragged him into an empty classroom nearby.
“Here you can eat your sandwich in peace.”
“T-thank you,” he said quietly, still looking terrified and embarrassed.
You approached him slowly and he started stepping back until he was stopped by an empty desk, he felt it pressing against his rear end and started leaning back as he felt your hot breath mere centimeters from his face.
“Don’t rush to thank me yet. Do you really think I'm done with you already?”
“I-I don't have any money…” Coryo confessed, his face bright red with shame.
You almost couldn't believe how innocent he was. He literally thought you were gonna make him pay for protection as if you were some kind of mob boss.
“I don't need your money, blondie,” you cooed and let your hand wander under his uniform kilt touching him rather inappropriately.
Coryo's mouth flew open as he slowly started to realize what were your true intentions.
It looked like he was trying to say something but words weren't coming out of his mouth, he just stared at you, his big baby blue eyes wide with shock.
You kept palming him for a short moment, then stopped abruptly.
“Of course, I’m not gonna do anything you don't like.”
The loss of contact elicited a soft whine from Coryo's lips.
“No, no, please…” he suddenly regained the ability to speak.
“Please what?” You teased, it was so arousing to see him all bushy and ashamed like that.
“Please continue… I did enjoy that.”
You leaned even closer to him, your lips lingering just near his.
“Okay then,” you whispered, causing his breath to hitch.
You let your lips press against his in what turned into a gentle kiss. You thought of it as pretty chaste, but Coryo almost jumped when he felt your lips on his.
Could it be possible that he hadn't even made out with a girl? The thought alone caused wetness to pool up in your panties.
You gave him a flirtatious smile and started unbuttoning your uniform jacket and shirt, revealing that you were wearing a pristine white bra. Without hesitation you pulled your titties out of the lacy fabric making Coryo gasp at the sight.
“Do you like what you see, Coriolanus?”
“I-I think you can call me Coryo now,” the boy was barely able to get the words out.
“You have beautiful breasts. May I…?”
Instead of an answer you took his hands and placed them on your tits. Coryo started fondling them carefully, his thumbs circling around your nipples, which were getting hard under his touch.
Enjoying his warm and soft hands on your skin you unzipped your uniform pants and let them fall freely on your neat shoes, followed by your panties.
You sat Coryo on the side of the desk and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, then got his kilt out of the way and slowly lowered yourself on his bulge, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of your naked wet pussy pressing against the raw fabric.
Coryo watched your movements in awe, his eyes widening at the sight of your bare cunt landing just above his aching cock. He wanted to fuck you so badly but you had decided to leave that for later.
You knew his virgin cock wouldn't be able to take it for too long so you started rubbing your dripping cunt against his hard-on slowly grinding your hips back and forth.
Coryo let out a cute little whimper and you echoed it with a moan finally feeling a little relief for your aching pussy.
“So responsive, baby, so hard for me already,” you whispered against his lips before catching them in another kiss. Coryo kept making the cutest sounds that vibrated against your mouth as you kept rubbing yourself on him making circular movements to get some friction for your clit.
The blonde boy moved lower leaving a trail of soft warm kisses down your neck and wrapping his lips around your nipple. He sucked on your titties hungrily as you dug your fingers into his soft blonde curls and tugged on them gently feeling your climax slowly approaching.
You sped up your movements grinding yourself against his rock hard bulge with full intensity feeling your wetness overflowing and staining his red uniform pants. The friction felt so damn good that it brought you over the edge and you threw your head back moaning loudly as you came all over his clothed cock.
You grabbed Coryo's face and kissed him roughly feeling his whole body trembling as he came inside his pants. The boy's mouth fell open and you licked along his lips and tongue as he savored his orgasm, probably the most powerful he had experienced yet.
After climbing off Coryo's lap you looked at him with a satisfied smirk. The boy's pants were completely messed up, both from his cum and yours, he sat there panting heavily, his face flushed and hair disheveled. He looked so pretty like that.
“Look at all the mess you made,” you mused. “Turns out you're a little whore, Coriolanus Snow.”
Coryo had no arguments to refute that. The shade of red filling his cheeks only got a bit deeper.
“Are we going to do this again?” He asked, looking at you curiously.
You smiled at him and adjusted his kilt, hiding the big wet stains on his pants.
“Of course darling, I’ve still got a lot to teach you after all.”
#thank you for the ask#coriolanus snow#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#thg#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#thg tbosas#blurb#cts ask
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One of the things that frustrates me about Viv's designs is that they don't really tell me anything about the character's motivations or personality.
If I came knowing nothing about Hazbin and you tell me that Cherry Bomb is a punk from the 80's, Sir Pentious an inventor from Victorian England and Alastor a radio host from the 1920's I would have a very hard time believing you.
(((Especially since for some reason, Viv dresses almost all her male characters in Hazbin with some variant of the same suit and bowtie)))
But I think that no - other design frustrates me more than Nifty's. She is supposed to be a Japanese housewife from the fifties. Yet her dress is looks more like a Halloween costume of a fifties girl than something women would actually use at the time.
Her hair is not even accurate, it should be more curly since perms were really big among Japanese women during that time.
However, the fact that she wears a costume of a fifties woman could come in handy if you write a decent backstory.
Let's start by saying that Nifty was not an adult during the fifties, she was actually born during the early sixties into a very conservative and traditional family who told her that the only thing she needed to worry was to marry a decent man, have kids and take care of the house.
Like a 50's woman!
This caused Nifty, a very extroverted and playful child who loved bugs and mud, to have a pretty stressed-out childhood. Every time her mother found her playing in the garden and getting dirty she was beaten. The germo-phobia she developed as a adult was partially because of this, since filled with germs = being harshly punished she always made sure everything was clean.
Eventually when she was 19, her parents arranged a marriage with a businessman and they tied the knot not even a year later.
Her husband was not bad,
He was rather handsome, had a stable job, a big house in Tokyo and could even afford going on vacation once a year.
If only he wasn't the most boring man alive then things probably would have been different.
Whatever he genuinely loved Nifty or not is completely irrelevant when he treated her more like a housemate than an actual wife. They even slept in separate beds and the only time they spend together was during dinnertime and then 30 minutes of TV before going to bed.
NIfty was suffocating in her marriage.
But is not like she could say something. The one time she tried talking to her mom about it, she just told her to "be thankful" to have so much free time since things will change when she has children.
Well, she and her husband hadn't been intimate since their weeding night, so that wasn't happening any time soon.
That stayed the same for a while, until one night, while watching TV with her husband a local boy/band appeared on screen
It was the early 90s and boy bands were allll the rage.
New bands formed every day and this particular one didn't seem too different from the rest. Except that maybe, the Bad Boy of the group captivated a 30 year old Nifty and rocked her world in a way she hadn't experimented before.
At the start everything seemed normal, she started by buying one CD or two, attending meet and greats in local malls and going to their concerts. Nifty didn't want her husband getting involved, so she got a part-time job to cover those extra expenses and not use her husbands money.
Of course almost all the merch she bought was of Bad Boy
Soon, she started having this fantasies, dreams were B.B confused his undying love for her and took her away form her boring husband and into a live of adventure and music. B.B was a real man, rebellious and strong that would be able to keep emotion and passion in her life unlike her husband.
Those dreams helped her to live another day, and maybe it was because of this dependency that Nifty started to believe that those fantasies were real. That she and B.B were a secret couple and the meet and greats they had were really "dates" that they had to do in secret from her husband.
Unfortunately, it was only a matter a time before dear Nifty became one of those fans who you end up seeing in a police lineup and reading in the newspaper the minute she started stalking B.B and talking about him as if he was her boyfriend with whoever may listen.
All went into a breaking point when one day, Nifty just got tired waiting for B.B to take her away from her boring life. Thinking about it she just came to the conclusion that it was her dear old hubby the one that was keeping B.B away from her.
That has to be it.
Her husband must be preventing B.B from fulfilling his promise!
What lies did he told him about her?
Does he want me as his prisioner forever?!
This is not staying like this!
That night, after her husband fell asleep, Nifty woke up, went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and stabbed her spouse 30 times before ending his life with one clean slit in the throat.
Now that the bore is dead, she and her precious Bad Boy could be together forever! Now he has no excuse to not fulfill his promise! A new life filled with love, excitement and adventure awaits!
But first she needs to clean, everything ended up a disaster.
Maybe it was the excitement she was feeling, or it was too dark to properly read the labels, but mixing cleaning chemicals can actually be extremely dangerous. You may create a very dangerous gas that could potentially kill you.
That morning, the neighbors woke up due a very strong smell and they shouted the minute they found dead bodies of Nifty and her husband. She had her skin partially burned as she had felt face down the mix of cleaning solutions that took her life.
And you and me know, where she ended
Congratulations, Niffty's yours now! You're clearly more qualified to be writing her. Please cherish her.
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“Aizawa has gotten his ass kicked in every single fight he's been in (except against the unnamed grunts at the USJ, right before he lost to the Noumu)”
Mentally reviews all the fights Aizawa has been in.
I… I think I need to sit down.
Aizawa's fights:
Aizawa vs the USJ Grunts: Total victory for him! Good job, buddy, Enjoy it while it lasts!
Aizawa vs Noumu and Shigaraki: Multiple broken bones and some of his skin is decayed.
Aizawa vs Todoroki and Yaoyorozu: I'll cut him a little slack here but he did basically get outplayed by his own capture scarf
Aizawa vs Dabi Clone: He actually did win this fight pretty decisively but it's also like the only thing he did this arc. Midoriya suffered permanent damage in his arms while you were interrogating mud, my man.
Aizawa vs Toga: Did not think to use his Quirk until after Toga attacked. She then used his own capture scarf against him and stabbed him.
Aizawa vs Overhaul and Chronostasis: Got taken out almost instantly; would have died if Amajiki didn't save him. I'll cut him some slack because apparently Chronostatis is a Mutation Quirk(????) so he couldn't erase it but also it really should be Emitter.
Blackwhip Emergence: Despite being on hand specifically for something like this, did not arrive to help until after the problem was solved.
War Arc Hospital Raid: Eraserhead mostly runs support in this fight while the other Heroes do the damage, but the Heroes do also win this fight, so I'll give it to him.
Aizawa vs High End Noumu: While he and the other Heroes do technically win, they take the first serious losses of this arc, and Shigaraki wakes up, meaning the whole mission is a failure. Also his leg is badly damaged by a Noumu, but, uh...
Aizawa vs Shigaraki: Takes a bullet to the damaged leg and has to amputate it. Proceeds to lose his eye to Shigaraki and has to sit out the rest of the fight on account of being critically injured.
Final War Arc: Got thrown off a cliff by Kurogiri. Was not even at the fight with Kurogiri. But he does come back from this one so I'll mark this a draw instead of a loss.
So that gives him a final tally of... three victories. And the only victory against a named character was a Twice clone.
Track record is, um. Spotty.
Admittedly, I don't think any of the other Heroes at UA (sans All Might) have as many fights as he does, so he's got a much higher chance or a horrible win/lose ratio simply by numbers.
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on sherlock adaptations: what do you think of house
I have so Many thousands of thoughts of House as a Sherlock adaptation that I could write a book about it and chapter one would be called: A HOUSE IS NOT A HOLMES© because I don't CARE that they called him House and idc that his apartment is 221b and that he plays the violin sometimes and solves problems, that's not my friend Sherlock Holmes!!!!!
House doesn't work as a Sherlock adaptation because deduction as Holmes practices it in the stories is not SPECIALIST KNOWLEDGE!!! the whole appeal of Holmes is that you read it and you feel like you could also deduce things. Holmes teaches you a way to look at the world and be more observant and use that knowledge to help people.
Holmes isn't a politician or a policeman even, he's a guy who wants to help because he's studied a particular way to see the world and you can too.........House is a SPECIALIST DOCTOR with a typical Doctor's God complex. That's as far as you can get from Holmes!!! The whole point of Holmes is he's not part of an institution!!! He operates OUTSIDE OF IT. House's knowledge base is medically specialist, you can't engage with his deductive reasoning the way you can with Holmes in the stories because to know what he knows you have to go to med school for 20 years. There's never a sense when you watch that you could have figured it out. Also, House's job description is institutionalised and established. He's not doing anything (med malpractice aside) that wouldn't be in the scope of any other specialist.
Thirdly, Sherlock Holmes isn't a guy looking to have power of people. This is the thing that arguably pisses me off most about House which is the interpretation of Holmes as someone looking lord his intelligence over others. I think this comes from the prevailing tortured genus trope. But also people not being able to tell the difference between Sherlock as a character who is just very open about his observations and someone who's an asshole. Sherlock is actually a very honest character which sometimes yeah means he's harsh but mostly he's just truthful. House mutilates this trait beyond recognition to the point of near constant and unrealistic cruelty.
Finally, I think making Holmes a doctor literally means you can't actually have a Watson because arguably the whole point of Watson, other than to be the audience pov, is to add credibility to Sherlock's unorthodox career choice AND to provide a traditional scientific perspective. House being a Doctor means none of that is really needed. Everyone knows, understands, and respects what a Doctor is!!! Wilson as a Watson figure has nothing to do except be the audience's WTF POV. Even the way Wilson and House's friendship is done is simply, like.... they didn't read the source material. Do you get that these men are meant to be at the very least friends who enjoy each other's company?? Also I think people need to shut the fuck up about House MD being a secretly gay show. A show doing homophobia on the regular isn't gay in any way that matters.
I say all this as someone who's watched it and enjoyed it at times. House and Cuddy were literally like one of the first ships I ever shipped. Do you know how weird it is to be 15 rooting for 2 middle aged co-workers on tv to fuck?? Anyways, I have lots of other thoughts about how the show handles House's addiction and disabilities and how arguably these are also taken loosely from Holmes lore. But if House MD must be considered a Holmes adaptation, it's one that mostly just mutilates. Almost every criticism hbomberguy says in his Sherlock is Garbage video essay is also applicable to House MD.
#house md#sherlock holmes#sorry to get weird about my no1 blorbo sherlock holmes I'm not actually <3#house
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Okay. So.
This post, right? I had this vivid bit come to me based on the deli comment + Pic combo. I do not plan on writing more. Free to a good home someone else take this I would NOT have any idea where to go with it oc or insert live your best life
You didn't usually come by this way, and frankly if there hadn't been closures for some infrastructure work you still wouldn't. The extra 10 minutes this unforseen detour was causing meant your entire schedule was thrown off balance. It was only by happenstance that plans got moved an hour back while you were already on the way. Normally you'd be more upset that shit got shifted while you were already on the way but you figured a solid "fuck it" was warranted and you should get yourself something to eat really quick.
You figured a new route would mean new restaurants, and had you decided this anywhere along your usual route or even before your turn down this detour? You'd be so right. You knew there were tons of little places you made notes to go back and try the ever nebulous sometime.
This would be an awesome sometime if it didn't mean trying to turn around and backtrack and the way the construction area had been? That was not appealing.
This road had a surprising lack of food options, and between the idea of gas station snacks or a little corner deli? You were gonna pick the deli first. Why not, good to try new things after all.
Only as soon as you walk in you see the guy behind the counter. Well, more leaning between the counter and the front, he's obviously tied enough to the place that he's talking to the only other customer in there, but someone else is actually making the sandwich while he chats with the guy waiting.
You were ready with a polite smile as you looked at the menu but something about the guy made you do a second glance and-
You knew of that neck tattoo. The long sleeves and pants he wore covering the rest of his skin suddenly felt a lot less sensible for the weather and a lot more like brush hiding something dangerous. That hammer might as well have been a sign saying 'this is not a place of honor', it was a warning and a potential threat all in one and you were not gonna ignore that.
You'd normally just turn on your heel and slide out, quiet and unnoticed, except he had noticed you.
"Welcome," and if that didn't feel like a bold faced lie to you but you keep a pleasant smile even as the fuckoff huge other customer, also very large, also very white and also very covered up- face mask, beanie, sunglasses in hand and hints of tattoos peeking from his sleeves- turns to look at you as well.
You try so hard to keep your polite smile and distinctly not make eye contact as you look over the menu. Your appetite is so far gone you don't know if you're gonna eat for the rest of the day, you weigh the odds between being able to just make your escape versus buying a drink and mentally trying to figure out if you had enough loose change to get a water bottle because you did not want these people to theoretically have your name. Not with that dogwhistle on his fuckin neck you didn't.
But you've never been so glad for your friends serial texting, your phone chiming four times in rapid succession in your pocket.
You fish it out and, well, damn, if that isn't one hell of a meme. You let your brow furrow, "oh son of a-" you look up and offer an apologetic smile, "so sorry, have a good one," and you beat feet and make a hasty retreat.
You dial that friend in question as you make your way out, "hey, yeah, I know you just texted me but I need to be on the phone really quick? Yeah uh," you do a bit of a look around and behind you, making sure your coast is fairly clear before you lower your voice and continue, "might've. Just accidentally walked into a white supremacist place?"
"HOW DO YOU ACCIDENTALLY-"
"It's not like they hung a swastika on the window," your tone creeps back up with exasperation, "the guy- manager or owner I dunno- he had the fuckin- the hammer on his throat! And he was too covered for me to check for iron crosses and with his only other customer being another giant white guy I wasn't playing the odds! Anyway, whatever, I'm almost there just. Hang out with me on the phone. Where the hell did you find that meme?"
--------
Look I'd cut back to where it goes back to the guys bantering here but like. I'm running out of steam and Price doesn't cooperate with my writing at the best of times.
Just know Simon absolutely makes the joke that pretty birds leaving is what happens when you let Roaches around your food. Roach just flips him the bird.
Gaz was absolutely walking down the street and heard some of that phone call. Absolutely finds it hilarious.
Anyway please if you want this take it free to a good home I do not need this freeloader
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Pyrrha: And where did you get those glasses?
Nora: I found them in the toilet! But it's fine, I called out to anyone who might have lost them and nobody answered, so that means they're mine!
Jaune: I don't think that's how-
Nora: Check it out! I can do smart things now~! (Presses finger to head) The sum of the square roots of any two sides of an isosceles triangle is equal to the square root of the remaining side!
Ren: Nora, that's a right triangle.
Nora: D'OH!
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Ozpin: Glynda, have you seen my glasses?
Goodwitch: Where did you last see them?
Ozpin: ...
Ozpin: She can't know that I dropped them in the toilet. Not me, the man who singlehandedly drafted the Five Kingdom Peace Accords.
Goodwitch: Sir, you said that out loud.
Ozpin: ...
Ozpin: (Turns away, Whispering) No, I didn't.
Goodwitch: More importantly, sir, student grades are at an all-time low this year. Should we conduct mandatory after-school study sessions?
Ozpin: (Puts in contacts) Might as well. As I recall, student scores haven't been this bad since the hey-days of Team STRQ.
Goodwitch: Yes, and unless we want to risk a repeat of Team STRQ, we should focus our efforts on re-education.
Ozpin: Oh, very well. (Points to RWBY, CRDL) Send them, them, (Points to JNPR) and- Oh, everyone except the egghead. She just might be our only good student.
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Jaune: Nora, you shouldn't wear glasses that aren't prescribed to you.
Nora: Pyrrha, just because you're ten feet tall doesn't you get to tell me what to do.
Ren: I'm Ren.
Jaune: (Snatches glasses) Gimme those!
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Bsd except Atsushi was taken into the Port Mafia by the Old Boss.
After being given the cue to begin from Mori, Hirotsu starts his tale.
"About a decade or so ago, a couple who were quite high up in the Port Mafia ended up betraying us. The details I don't know of, but for whatever reason the Ex Boss took it personally."
It wasn't unusual. The Old Boss tended to deal with traitors first hand rather than leave it to his underlings. It definitely made the man terrifying. But taking it so personally was odd.
"They bargained with him. You see they had a son who possessed powerful ability. It worked, the Ex Boss was impressed with it and sparred them with the trade being he kept their kid."
Hirotsu took out his lighter and lit his cigarette.
"The Ex Boss grew to adore him, the kid was basically his son. Atsushi Nakajima was the crown jewel of the Port Mafia.
He was a good kid you would think he was bathed in light. And yet there was a darkness to him. He was as vicious and cold as he was kind and warm."
Mori raised an eyebrow.
"If he was so special, how is it I haven't heard of him?"
Hirotsu sighed "well, like I said the kids ability was powerful. But he couldn't quite control it, we had our measures and things in place of course. But as the Ex Boss started to sick, he became afraid of Atsushi."
He shook his head frowning.
"The kid he loved like his own was now a monster in his eyes. He locked Atsushi down underground, under more security that we have for Q. Forbade anyone for even mentioning his name, it was like the kid never existed."
Mori was intrigued by that "and was this extra security warranted or was it simply paranoia."
"It wasn't at first, Atsushi wouldn't have hurt any ally and especially not the Ex Boss."
Hirotsu knew, because even when Atsushi was fully transformed he remembered the scent and smell of his allies. He'd never attacked them, not unless they stepped out of line.
"But the longer he stayed down there... Any love Atsushi had for the Ex Boss turned into hate. The Ex Boss come taunt him, torture him and betrate him. Eventually the he got too sick to go down there."
Dazai hummed, sitting up in his chair. "And I'm guessing he's still down there?" Hirotsu nodded "I think the plan was to slowly starve him. But his caretakers continued their jobs, I've been down and he's still there."
Mori nodded "so you think he'd be a useful addition to the Port Mafia?" Mori already knew the answer of course but he wanted to hear it.
"Definitely. Atsushi never quite had a home before us, he values this city as his. His to protect, his to take care off. It's what convinced him to start taking training seriously.
It didn't fit the Ex Boss's vision, but I know he'll fit yours sir."
And that, that was all Mori needed but they chatted a bit longer. On exactly what this ability was, and it definitely was quite impressive.
Who knew he'd find a diamond below his feet?
"So my old man is dead? Did he suffer?" Asked Atsushi, watching as Mori approached his cell. He was standing, the chain around his neck taunt but he didn't seem bothered by it.
"He did, right go the end. I would know, I killed him myself."
Atsushi's look of shock turned into a chuckle. "So you did. So what do I get for choosing you hmm?" He sounded relaxed but there was hidden malice in his voice.
"Time out your cage, and the ability to protect this city as you wish." Said Mori. Atsushi looked at him in suprise, than smiled at that last part.
Hmm someone who cared more for this city than their own wellbeing, oh Atsushi definitely would be useful to the Port Mafia.
"I can do that, could also share some tales of dear old dad. He's got secrets buried in these walls." Said Atsushi nonchalantly and it was Mori's turn to chuckle.
"I can do that, so Atsushi Nakajima what do you say?"
Atsushi lowered himself onto one knee. "I swear my life, my blood and my loyalty to this organisation. I will be it's eyes, it's ears and it's executioner as you see fit all in the name of protecting Yokohama."
"Welcome to the Port Mafia, Atsushi Nakajima."
#bsd atsushi#atsushi nakajima#bsd mori#mori ougai#bsd hirotsu#hirotsu ryuurou#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs#bsd
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the apple pie life for me (and you) // Dean Winchester x Castiel (SPN)
AVAILABLE ON AO3
Inspiration: Cough Syrup - Glee Cast (Cover)
Summary: One minute, Castiel is confessing his love as he sacrifices himself, so Dean can live. The next, Dean is dead, and Castiel's avoiding him in Heaven. Or maybe Dean's avoiding him. Dean has probably never been more confused in his life, feelings for his best friend and all.
TWs: kinda angst, mentioned vomit, very slightly alluded child abuse (john winchester), a little bit of yelling, sort of suicidal thoughts (like yeah, but he's already dead), cursing, crying, low self-worth, mention of self-sacrifice, Dean is bad at feelings (and so is Cas), avoidance, mention of death, and confrontation.
[[A/N: This is a finale fix-it, but with the finale still canon, if you will. Except Dean doesn't like just drive until Sam dies. This actually ripped out my soul and shoved it back in. I felt possessed writing this. Also, let Dean say fuck. Anyway. This shit will fuck you up, but it's a happy ending !!! Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]
Dean doesn't think he wanted to die.
But he's not really sure. And he kinda feels like that's something you should be sure about.
As he cruises along in Baby with no place to go, but also somehow having somewhere in mind, he just keeps thinking about it.
Lots of things, really. Chuck, everyone disappearing, Jack, Sammy back on Earth (he thinks he's always gonna worry about him), and... and Cas.
See that's... that's where his mind hitches.
Because otherwise, after Jack took over, Dean thought things were going pretty good. Great, even. Him and Sammy doing the same thing it all started with. (Sans the Dad thing, probably for the best, but still-)
But, the more he thinks about it now, where there is nothing but the road, Baby, and him... That life, that wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't living how he wanted to. Sure, he wanted Sammy in it, but to say he still wanted to be a hunter?
When he thought about it, it kinda felt like he was still playing the role that Chuck had carved out for him. He knows he had free will then, he knows Chuck wasn't in charge, but he just... That role was comfortable, familiar, and he thinks maybe... both him and Sam just fell right back into it.
And then, there's the just him and Sam thing. It started like that, yeah, and don't get him wrong, he loves Sammy. (It's probably in his bones now, it's so ingrained in his friggin' DNA.) But it wasn't just him and Sammy, not anymore.
So, how can everything be 'goin' good' when you're missing pieces, people?
Like Jody and the girls, Garth and his family, Eileen, Jack and... and Cas.
So, even though, Jack fixed it all, it was still kinda like him and Sam were the only ones on the planet. Alone.
He wasn't happy with what he was doing, he was missing people like hell, and his brain was in near-constant turmoil because... because his best friend was dead. And it wasn't like he tried to stop it, live like how Castiel wanted him to. What he died for.
But he just couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to live happily when Cas was dead? Because of him, of all things.
So, maybe... maybe he did want to die.
Dean doesn't think it's only the Cas... thing, he thinks it's a lot of things (probably). But, he thinks him not being there is really what makes it all so wrong.
He thinks back to when Cas was dead before, when... when all he needed was a "damn win" and he got him back. Everything was so much better, even though shit hadn't been done about Chuck or any of their other problems. He had a damn win.
He's just starting to think that maybe he didn't need a win, maybe he needed Cas.
And maybe that's why the life he lived wasn't what he wanted. Maybe that's why it was so easy to die when he'd been fighting all his life to live freely. Escape whatever goddamn prophecies plagued his life, and live how he wanted to.
Team Free Will, he remarked somewhere in his head.
And yet, the only one living freely was Cas. Sam and Dean, written like damn books, apparently, but Cas?
Chuck said he never followed him, said that he had a "crack in his chassis" (whatever the hell that meant). And he'd even... the turning point for him was Dean. Goddamn "gripping him tight and raising him from perdition".
That was when he'd veered off the path Chuck had built for him, and out of the damn countless universes, this... his Cas was the only one who broke the cycle.
And then, he'd think back to the moment he died for the... for the last time. What he said, and how he said it, and even when Dean tried to twist it to something that wasn't so goddamn scary. He couldn't. Because he had said it clear as day.
And just telling him gave him 'true happiness' (like a damn fairytale). He didn't expect a response, or anything, just telling him. Dean couldn't wrap his head around it at all. Hadn't since the day he said it.
Every time he thought about both of them, Cas's... confession and Chuck's words, he connected the dots. He'd never let himself think about it, but now he had all the time in the world to. It's all he could do.
So, he let himself think it, just this once.
Cas... loving him, that wasn't planned. That was all Cas. This Cas. His Cas.
He maybe even loved him so much that it broke god's will.
How was Dean supposed to handle that? Digest that? When seconds later, Cas was dead. Even now, he couldn't-
There was a house.
To his left, it had been miles of just meadows and fields, and now... now there was a house. A white house, that you sort of just pictured in your head when you imagined a 'family home'. It looked kind of oddly like his house when he was a kid, but also not at all.
It had a white picket fence and a big yard. It had all the works.
The apple pie life, his mind chimed.
Dean paused a moment, wondering if this was someone else's. His eyes peered around it, focusing on the long, empty driveway (the kind that was half dirt and half rocks). And he came up decidedly empty.
He took a breath, and mumbled low (maybe to make sure he could still talk), "'S worth a shot."
Flinching a little at Baby bumping along the rocks, Dean slowly crept up to the house. Eyeing it the whole time, as if it would change when he looked away. Or maybe like it wouldn't feel right halfway up the driveway.
But, he felt the same all the way through.
Dean pursed his lips, staring at the white shingles and the big porch with two rocking chairs -one on either side.
It was two stories, but still small. And it wasn't perfect either, not like out of one of those friggin' house magazines where everything seemed so clean, it was almost scary. There were scuffs and marks, and the grass grew too high right next to the steps.
He took a breath, and stepped out of Baby, throwing the keys around his fingers on instinct. The jingle was the only noise that filled the air then.
It was crazy how much the air smelt the same, felt the same. He could see the wind shift the blades of grass and the branches of the trees, it felt so much like... home.
Even though Dean had never seen this house before in his life, it felt like home.
That... That feeling was new.
He let his eyes surf over the land a second, before catching on a barn -rundown and hidden behind the house. And even though it was, Dean traced the driveway all the way back to it.
Letting himself take one last look at the house, he slowly trailed back to the barn. Feet crushing over rocks and twigs, he truly had never felt more alive. Ironically.
It wasn't the long stretch of road, the slick seats of Baby, or the low hum of the engine. It was the sound of birds, the smell of flowers, and the fresh air. Dean nearly almost bent down to get dirt on his hands just to feel it again, instead of the smooth steering wheel he knew so well.
He didn't though, and instead, approached the barn. Somewhere in his head, it rang familiar. He wasn't sure why or how, but as he walked through the door it just... he knew it.
And as his footsteps echoed through the air, it hit him.
Dean spun around on his feet and looked toward the door, almost on instinct.
He did know this barn. It was where he... where he first met Cas. He remembers it more with all the sigil and black paint everywhere, but looking back at the door, at the lights-
He laughed a little, the dramatic son of a bitch.
Dean cut himself short, watching the doors. Maybe he was expecting something, someone, but he'd never say it out loud. He couldn't, not now.
Cas had been right there.
And there was a part of him that wished he still was.
He took a deep breath through his nose, wondering what exactly he was going to do with it. Or if he was just gonna keep it empty. Because...
He had the spare thought to make it into a kinda garage, build some shelves maybe, fill the walls with parts. He could pull Baby in, shelter her from the rain. If it did rain here. Somehow Dean hoped so. He wanted stuff like rain, snow, the crunching leaves, and the smush of mud under his shoe.
It was weird to say he wanted to feel human in Heaven, but he did.
Because when had he ever felt human? Really?
He wanted that. He wanted a lot of things now that could never have imagined back then. Or didn't think to, he guessed.
Patting one of the wooden walls, Dean made his exit.
His eyes lingered on the backyard for a moment, where the expanse of grass seemed larger, and in the corner, there seemed to be a fenced-off patch of dirt. Maybe for a garden.
He had never thought about having a garden, but he wasn't really against it either.
He looked at for a second, before thinking to himself. Cas would probably like that.
He had that bee thing, and bees like flowers, right? So, maybe he'd offer it to him. Let him have the space. It would be nice having him there, a little piece of him around him every day.
Because he knew that he was tinkering around somewhere, supposedly with Jack. And maybe... maybe it would be nice for him to have a break, a garden.
Dean bit his lip, tapping his foot a moment.
Was that what it was? Was that why you wanted him here, Winchester? Really?
He kept moving forward, steady steps back to the front of the house. For once in his life, there was no rush. He could take his time.
By the time he swung around to the porch, the wind had died down and left only the shining sun in its wake. It felt just like when the sun touched his skin on Earth, maybe even a little better. He liked it the same reason he liked everything else, just being human.
Dean moved up the steps, stairs creaking with every move and his hand drifting across the railing. It was imperfect with bumps and peeling paint, and he had a thought that maybe he could fix it one day. Maybe that's why the house is the way it is, so he could fix it.
Like maybe it had been built like that because he'd always wanted to do it. Fix up a house. Did Cas know that?
His eyes roamed over to the second rocking chair thoughtfully. He kind of had an idea of who he wanted there.
He let his fingers drift over the chair a moment, like maybe if he thought hard enough, he'd be there. Here.
Dean didn't think that he could talk to him, or maybe that he would be comfortable doing so. But that didn't mean he didn't want to friggin' see him, talk to him.
And even though it was scary as hell, he would talk about it if Cas wanted to. He just thinks that the natural progression is his response, and Dean... Dean wasn't sure he had one. Or maybe he had one, but he wasn't sure he could say it.
He was a damn coward.
Pulling open the door, Dean's eyes slunk along the walls. The first thing he saw was a hallway, softly colored walls, and frames along it. Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed behind him (on instinct) and drew his attention to the pictures.
A lot of them, he recognized.
Old pictures of him and Sammy, pictures of his Mom and Dad. But some, he hadn't.
His fingers trailed over a frame. It was him and Cas laughing in the bunker, he'd had no idea it was taken at all. It must've been Sam, but he'd never found the need to show him, apparently.
He had that sort of crinkly smile that he'd get sometimes, and Dean was saying something but he was laughing halfway through it. And Cas was just looking at him like he always did.
Ever since Cas's goodbye, he'd been rethinking everything he knew. Everything.
From the first time he saw him to the last, he'd looked through everything -trying to find it. Trying to see how he'd missed it for so long. And when he did, it was right damn in front of him.
That was probably what he hated this most, that he'd never seen it. Dean had never even thought of the possibility, only once or twice when some dick would make an offhand remark. (Which, when he looked back on it, happened a lot.)
And it has seemed just so far away. Impossible.
Maybe that wasn't because he hadn't... but because he was a broken human (past damn repair) and he was an angel of the Lord.
How could he love me?
And then, there was all that he said. That he believed Dean was so much better than he did. At his very core was love of all things.
"The one thing I want, I know I can't have."
Knows he can't have, it kept ringing through his head. As he wandered up the stairs, maybe even before that, when he was driving, and maybe even before that when it was just him and Sammy ganking bitches.
He didn't tell Sam, and maybe that was the biggest thing. Maybe he felt some guilt, or maybe... maybe he just wanted to keep it to himself. He wasn't sure.
Dean wasn't sure about any goddamn thing at this point.
He took a breath and peeked into the rooms. He didn't want to go fully in them, he wasn't sure why. But one of them, he recognized to be a guest bedroom. It was empty, except for a bed and a dresser -impersonal.
Maybe for Sammy someday.
There was a bathroom on the other wall, he thinks he has two. One downstairs and one up. (Maybe even three, he hasn't looked at his master bedroom yet.) He paused a moment, maybe imagining things on the sink. Imagining a rug he buys one day (do they even buy things? Or does he just think it into existence?). It was domestic, and Dean couldn't tell if he liked it or not.
He trailed down the stairs again, and just to his right, he saw another bathroom -right by the front door. It was empty again, except for the essentials. Toilet, shower, and sink. He didn't waste anymore time.
Across from it was, he guessed, the living room. And he kinda expected the same, just the essentials, maybe some fuzzy throw pillows that Dean would inevitably throw out. Maybe a rug he'd say he didn't like, but he'd keep it anyway.
But it wasn't.
Instead, Dean found something a lot more personal.
It was a big TV with shelves surrounding it filled with movies. And the more he looked at it, the more at it -they were his favorites. And on the wall under the window, there was a cassette player (no cassettes, but they were probably out in Baby) and to its left a mini fridge. Dean chanced a look in it and found his favorite type of beer. And under it, on one of the shelves was an unused record player. Beside both of them, there was one of those containers for vinyls (Dean had friggin' clue what it was called), and it was filled. He didn't have to look to know it was all his favorites.
There were bean bags piled in the corner like he'd have too many visitors for the couch. Or maybe they'd expect him to. Cas would expect him to.
Dean felt like his breath was shot out of his chest. A little like he couldn't friggin' breath.
His Dean-cave.
It was a damn upgrade, yeah, not with concrete floors and stuffy walls. But in essence the very same. Probably the perfect version of it in his head.
God, had Cas remembered that?
Remembered all of it? His favorite fucking songs, favorite movies, favorite shows- Had Cas remembered everything?
It made him want to throw up, or maybe like his heart was squeezed so tight in his chest that he felt like he might die. Again, he guessed.
Wouldn't be the first time.
Dean stared at the room, hand coming to rest on the back of the couch. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his chest, it felt like his stomach was waves in the damn ocean.
He didn't know whether to cry or throw his guts up. It felt just like after Cas was taken by the Empty.
Like his world was shifting and crumbling all at once.
Dean stepped back a few steps and came up against the wall. His eyes burned.
He ran a hand through his hair, a little frantically, and tried to school the sob that climbed up his throat.
He's alive, he repeated to himself, Cas is fucking alive.
Some other voice chimed back, little and weak, But he's not here, is he?
He took in a deep breath, shaky, and leaned his head back up against the wall. Looking up at the ceiling, Dean thought maybe he felt tears roll down his cheeks.
He wanted to pray, bring him here. But what the hell would he even say?
"Hey buddy, confessing your love and fucking dying after wasn't very fun for me."
"What you did wasn't goddamn fair."
"I know you love me, but I don't understand it. I don't get it."
"How can you love me?"
"I think maybe I love you too."
His breath hitched in his chest.
He clenched his fist onto the wall, pounding it a few times. He heard the frames rattle in their places and felt the wood boards behind it under his hand.
Dean took a deep breath in and wiped at his eyes. Sniffling, he walked forward into the kitchen. Keep moving.
It was the cozy kind of kitchen, not the minimalist crap, with wooden cupboards and imperfect counters. The refrigerator had a few pictures stuck to it, held up by those damn alphabet magnets.
He just somehow knew that was Cas's idea.
And he laughed a little at it, taking one of them in his hands and rubbing his thumb over the shitty plastic.
His eyes smoothed over the space again, and he found something actually on the counter. He wasn't sure how he missed it the first time, but now, there was a slice of apple pie there. Probably the most picturesque one he'd ever seen. Heaven pie.
"Goddamn Heaven pie," he muttered, but he was smiling.
Before he could take a bite, of what he suspected might be the best pie in his life, he heard something.
A dog bark.
Dean nearly ran to the front door, leaving the pie stranded on the counter. Swinging the door open, he nearly stalled in place.
Miracle was there, yeah, and ran up to him a little like he was the only person in the world. It made his heart ache. But there was someone else.
"I've got a delivery," Charlie, his Charlie, smiled -grinned even.
"Charlie," he spoke, a little like it took everything in his chest to. She only smiled brighter.
Dean thought maybe he was crying, and he grabbed her in a hug. One that he thought may have been a little too tight but she didn't complain. She didn't say a word.
He put his chin on top of her head (just like he used to) and felt her hair (still short) under it. He used to do it to remember she was there, it felt like he was missing a fucking limb when he couldn't anymore. He never thought about the fact that maybe he could again one day.
It felt like everything in him was relieved, as if the tension had melted away. Somehow, someway, Charlie was exactly what he needed right now.
God, he hadn't even thought about her.
Well, he had. A lot. He thought about everybody he'd ever lost, that shit weights on your conscience. (Especially her.) But he'd never thought of her being up here, that he could see her again. Give her a goddamn hug-
He sniffled a little and dropped his mouth to kiss her on the forehead. She hugged him back just as tight, and he thought he might’ve heard her sniffle too.
Dean spoke before he could stop it, "I'm sorry."
"Dean, no," she pulled back, but didn't let go of his arms, "-you weren't- That wasn't your fault, you know that."
He was still crying, and maybe his voice was cracking, "I'm still sorry."
Charlie rubbed her hands down his arms for a minute, before changing the topic, "'Heard you took down God."
Dean laughed a little, wiping at his eyes, "Damn straight I did. Me, Sammy, and Jack."
"Would've loved to know him," she smiled -big and bright, "-but he's too busy for me now."
"Probably too busy to see me too," he offered, sniffling, "-if that helps you."
She shrugged, a little knowingly, "I think he'd make time if you asked."
He bit his lip a moment, thoughtfully, "Ya wanna come in?"
"Was waiting for that," she laughed, walking in -her eyes dipping over the walls, before waltzing into the Dean-cave, "-Look at your digs, Winchester! Not bad."
"It fit me?" He asked.
She turned to him then, grinning, "To a T."
He ran his tongue along his teeth, something heavy in his throat, "You know who made it?"
"I do," Charlie passively remarked, as Miracle ran up and jumped on the couch, "-We saw the house pop up a bit ago, not long, and we saw them out here, building it."
"Cas, yeah?" He asked like he didn't already know.
"Yup," she popped the 'p', running up to his shelves and seemingly skimming the titles, "-that and uh... Jack. But, mostly Cas."
She muttered something about 'shit, you have that one?', but Dean's mind was elsewhere.
"Do you," he started asking, swallowing kind of awkwardly, "-Do you see things on Earth? Like um... events, or conversations?"
"Only when we want to," she answered, still busy on the shelves (currently she was on her tippy-toes looking at the top one), "-I've been watching a few conventions over the years. Sometimes I peek in on you, or Sam, or Cas, for that matter. But I'm pretty content here."
Dean fell silent, fidgeting with his hands.
She turned to him, quirking a brow, "Why? Do you want to check in on Sam? It's pretty easy, actually-"
"Before," he started, and Charlie's lips snapped shut, "-Before the whole, uh, Chuck fight and Jack becoming... well, God. Cas died again."
"Shit," she spoke, "-how did he die?"
"Billie, ya know, Death, uh," he cleared as throat, and Charlie's eyes were on him (intently watching), "-she was after us. Me and Cas, and he... he sacrificed himself."
"Damn," she let out, "-have you seen him since Jack-"
"He didn't really... die," Dean kept going, maybe like he couldn't stop (he wanted to tell someone), "-There's this place where, uh, demons and angels go when they 'die'. From what I've heard, it's kinda like a void, an eternal sleep kinda deal."
Charlie pursed her lips a moment, maybe trying to decide if she should speak, "Yeah, I've heard rumors. Never been there of course, but um, yeah."
Dean bit his lip, and took a deep breath in.
"Dean," Charlie slowly stepped toward him, "-are you okay? Do you need to... sit down?"
"He made a deal," he continued, and maybe he wasn't looking at her but he really couldn't, "-Uh, the Empty, or the eternal sleep thing, um... would take him when he was the damn happiest he's ever been."
"And," she paused, laughing a little, "-how was he the happiest he's ever been when you were running from Death?"
Dean didn't say a word, and Charlie promptly cut her laughter short. The silence echoed a moment, and she stepped closer to him again (this was uncharted territory).
"Dean?"
He swallowed, his voice was a little scratchy now and his eyes burned, "He... He started this speech about- about me, and how good I was. That I wasn't just anger or... or hate like I thought. I was love, I raised Sammy for... for love, and do what I do, like stop the goddamn apocalypse, for love. That I was... the most selfless person he'd ever known-"
Charlie stayed quiet.
"-And he's lived millenniums," Dean laughed a little and it was wet (and maybe he was crying), "-I mean, how can that... how can that be true?"
"Dean," she leveled in a steady voice.
"And he just kept going," he laughed again, and he wiped at his eyes, "-and I couldn't say a goddamn word."
"Dean."
"And after all that," he felt a sob crawl up his throat, it shattered through his chest, "-after all that he told me he loved me. And just saying it, fucking telling me- That made him the happiest he's ever been."
Charlie's eyes were shiny, and she was looking at him a little like he would shatter at any second. But she didn't say a word.
"He said," he swallowed, his breaths shaky, "-He said that the one thing he wanted he couldn't have but I..."
He let himself say it, this once.
"Charlie, I-" he looked at her then, and she was frowning, her eyes were teary, "-I think he can have it. I think he-"
Dean took a breath, it shook through his lungs and laughed again -wiping at his eyes (like he wouldn't be crying if they didn't fall).
"-I think he's always damn had it."
There was silence then, and Dean didn't feel like he had anything else to say. Or maybe that he could say anything else. It felt like his soul had been ripped out of his chest-
Charlie seemed to take a minute to make sure, tediously stepping forward.
But when she realized he was, she pulled him into a hug again. This time though, she stood on her tippy-toes and pulled his head to her shoulder. Her hand cradling the back of his head, Dean followed her lead.
He took a breath in, that was just so Charlie, his Charlie, and it made his eyes fog up again.
She held him there a while, even though it couldn't have been comfortable. He knew that, but he couldn't be the one to pull away. Halfway because it was so long since he'd seen her, and halfway because he couldn't remember the last time he was held like this. Cared for like this.
"Did you," she started, slow and careful (gentle), "-Have you told anyone about this?"
"No, I... I died with it," he breathed out, "-I just... I couldn't tell Sammy-"
"Dean, hey," Charlie shooshed him, before joking lightly, "-that's okay. It just... It seemed like it was a little pent up."
Dean laughed a little, and she seemed to be happy about that.
"It was," he echoed out in the silence, "-I didn't... I didn't tell anyone."
"Well," she hummed, pushing her chin onto his shoulder, "-thank you for telling me."
Something in his chest softened.
"I think that's..." she spoke, gently, "-I think that's big for you. All of this is... is big for you."
There was a beat.
"You're doing your best, Dean," she soothed, squeezing him a little tighter, "-And maybe you didn't tell Sam, or tell Cas, but you did what you could. Everyone has their limits."
He let out a breath, less shaky this time, and dug himself further into her shoulder.
"That's nothing-" her hand rubbed against his back, "-That's nothing to be ashamed of."
He let the words sink into his skin.
"And quite frankly," Charlie quipped, "-your limit is way past mine. So, I can't judge."
Dean laughed again, and he could nearly feel her smile.
Thoughtfully keeping himself there for just a little longer, before pulling back. Sniffling and wiping at his eyes, Charlie stayed very close by, just in place for another hug.
"We good?" She questioned, a little playfully but on the same note, very serious.
"Yeah, yeah, we're uh-" he chuckled out, "-we're good."
"Can I..." she paused a moment, "-If you're not comfortable, don't answer it. But, is this your first... guy thing?"
Dean froze a little.
"You don't have to answer," she quickly added, "-at all. No pressure."
It's Charlie.
He ran his hand along his jaw, before rumbling out, "Kinda. I... When I was a kid, I knew, and maybe I even acted on it a little, but Dad..."
Charlie hummed in understanding, "He found out?"
"Yeah, uh," he spoke, suddenly awkward, "-I don't... I've never known how he figured it out. Or maybe he just... assumed, but he... yeah."
It was unspoken, and she seemed to understand.
"God," she asserted, maybe a little incredulously, "-he should really not be here."
Dean laughed a little, but something was heavy in his chest, "I don't know if I'd visit either of them anyway. Even without... this."
Charlie pursed her lips, "And you don't have to. It's your Heaven. If they... If they try to talk to you, let me know. I'll get a crew."
"A crew?"
"There's enough of us," she shrugged, "-He's an old man anyway, I'm sure I could take him."
He laughed a little again, "You'd be surprised."
She looked at him a moment like maybe that spoke louder than anything else he said. She squeezed his shoulder once, but gratefully, didn't say anything.
"And can I clarify something?"
Dean hummed.
"When Castiel..." she didn't say it, "-Did you not have time? Or were you just... scared?"
"A little bit of both," he answered, fingers tapping along the table by the couch, "-He said it, told me goodbye, and... and adios."
"But you wouldn't have told him? If you got the chance?" She asked, genuinely.
"I don't..." he sighed out, "-I don't know. I think, in the moment, I was just overwhelmed by it all. In-between how he talked about me, and how he... I barely processed a word before he was gone."
Charlie just looked at him.
"I sat there for a while before it-" he moved over to Miracle, petting him, "-it, uh, kicked in."
"And you-" she responded, a little slowly, "-you haven't seen him since then?"
"Well, I... I just got here," he explained, picking up Miracle's ear between his fingers, "-and I didn't even know he'd gotten out. Until... Until Bobby told me."
"Huh," she commented, sitting beside Miracle, "-Do you think he'd come? If you asked?"
Dean rolled the thought around in his mind, "I don't know, he kinda wanted me to live a lot longer than I did."
"How did you die?"
"On a hunt," he answered, simply.
"Shit," she muttered, "-What took you out?"
"Piece of rebar," he offered, wandering back around toward the shelf, "-Monster of the week threw me against a wall, right into it."
"That's..."
"Sammy was gonna call an ambulance, but I..." he echoed out, "-I told him no. I think- I think I wanted to die."
Charlie didn't speak for a moment, processing it, "Because of... Cas?"
"Yeah, mostly," Dean admitted, "-I, uh, realized it all when I got here. Drove Baby for a while and just... Just started thinking."
"About everything?"
"Yeah, uh," he hummed out, brushing his hand over Miracle's fur, "-everything. I wasn't happy there. Wasn't living the life I wanted, and I don't think I could have. Not without Cas."
She paused a second, "Do you think you'll be happy here?"
"It's Heaven," he laughed, not really looking at her, "-I kinda have to be, right?"
"Well," she countered, speaking a little carefully, "-Dean, you still don't have Cas."
Dean's hand froze in place.
"If you weren't happy without him then," she continued, thoughtfully, "-how are you going to be happy without him now?"
"He was dead," he spoke -defensively, "-He's alive now. I can... I can live with that."
"Dean," Charlie reiterated, low and gentle, "-will you be happy?"
"I've handled worse," he argued, but something in his chest was twisting.
She looked at him then, eyes steady on his, "But you don't have to."
He swallowed, repeating, "But I can."
She stood up then, coming right in front of him, and Dean nearly shrunk in place.
"Dean, he... he loves you," Charlie spoke, barely a whisper, "-and I think, somewhere in that thick skull of yours, you love him too."
He gnawed at his lip, "What's that gotta do with anything?"
"It's... everything, Dean," she laughed, a little in disbelief, "-It's got to do with everything. You deserve to be happy."
He took a deep breath through his nose.
"Isn't that what Castiel wanted?" she pointed out, "-For you to be happy?"
"Apparently not," he retorted, a little bitterly, "-how could I be happy when he's dead?"
"Maybe-" Charlie paused, cogs turning in her head, "-You said that he had to be the happiest he's ever been right?"
"Yeah," he replied, trying to follow.
"How could he be the happiest he's ever been if he knew he was causing you pain?"
Dean swallowed, his stomach twisting, "You think..."
"Dean, look I could be wrong," she clarified, "-but I don't think he thought you'd care. If... If he was the happiest he's ever been, and he loved you, he would never be able to cause you pain, or think he would, and still get taken."
He was speechless, something climbing up his throat.
"If he thought you weren't going to be happy," she finished like she'd had a major breakthrough, "-he... he couldn't have been taken."
"He..." Dean faltered to a stop, "-You really think he thought I wouldn't care?"
Charlie pursed her lips together, "I don't know how else it could've worked."
Dean felt like his whole body was on fire, like he was burning alive. Cas didn't know he cared? How the hell didn't he know that?
God, he cared so damn much, and he didn't even know?
He tried to think back to every time he'd lost Cas, all the grief. Dean realized he'd never seen that, he didn't see everytime he lost his goddamn mind because he was gone. For all he knew, everything was hunky-fucking-dory. He's just always thought he knew.
God, he didn't know?
She approached him then, holding his arms, "Dean, I know it's scary, believe me, I know-"
He just looked at her, words stuck in his throat. It felt like he could say everything and nothing at all. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.
"But he deserves to know," she finished.
Dean took a second, before saying, "Yeah, yeah, he does."
Charlie smiled at him, patting his arms, "You should talk to him, like... as soon as possible."
"Through what? Prayer?"
"Well, yeah," she laughed a little as if it was obvious.
"How do I know..." he exhaled, "-How do I know he'll come?"
"Dean," she assured, "-he loves you."
"Yeah, but what if he's-" he paused, "-what if he's avoiding me?"
"Dean," she repeated, "-he loves you."
"How does that-"
"That doesn't just stop," she interrupted him, "-It's not like if he gets uncomfortable, he'll just stop loving you. It's bigger than everything, if you ask him to, he'll come."
"But-" he tried.
"I know it," she continued, "-and when have I ever been wrong?"
Dean laughed a little.
"Actually, don't answer that," she laughed, "-Just, just trust me. He built this whole Heaven for you, didn't he?"
He responded, simply, "He did."
"He'll come," she repeated, "-You just have to ask, Winchester."
She'd left not long after that, with one solid hug (he didn't think he'd every stop hugging her, ever) and a promise to "tell me all the deets, including the juicy stuff".
Dean wasn't sure how to handle that.
He didn't do it immediately. He sat down and ate the pie first, which was the friggin' best one he'd ever had (he wondered if it always tasted like that up here). Then, he spent the next few hours going through his collection. He even popped in a cassette from Baby, had a few in-home concerts, and just sat with Miracle for a while (Dean thought that he might've known he wasn't doing something he was supposed to, he had a serious bitch face). And then it was night.
So, he went to bed.
He'll be honest, it happened a few times. Days happened (if that was a thing in Heaven).
It wasn't like he wasn't trying. He did, just every time he tried... He was just a damn coward. Kept saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." And it had very much already been tomorrow. A few of them, actually.
Part of him was kinda waiting to see if he'd just... show up like he used to. But, if he'd confessed his, what he believed to be, unrequited love to his best friend... he'd probably avoid him at all costs too. (He kinda already was.)
Today, though, was different.
Dean woke up, got his coffee, and instead of sitting down at the table and staring out the window (usually watching Miracle run around the yard), he went to the hallway. Couldn't tell you why, if you asked. But he just did.
And he stopped at the same picture, the one of him and Cas laughing. His eyes roamed over the crinkled smile, maybe a little differently now. An ache settled in his chest, like maybe he was missing a limb. Every morning he woke up, something was missing.
And sure, yeah, part of that was Sammy. But the other part...
His eyes smoothed over him again, and he just had the overwhelming urge for him to be there. And the thought ran through his mind again that he didn't know that he mattered. Cas was just living (relatively) with the knowledge that Dean didn't care, as if it was the truth.
With a breath, he decided today was the day.
He had given himself time, gotten dressed, sat out on the front porch (it was raining today, he found it kinda calming), and just readying himself.
Now, he was pacing in the kitchen.
"Cas, buddy," he tried like he was running through lines, "-No. Why would I call him buddy? That defeats the whole goddamn purpose."
He sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers, before trying again.
"Cas," he started, trying to think, "-that day. You knew I- Well, you thought you knew I-"
He dragged his palm down his face, groaning. How the hell was he going to do this?
"Fuck it," he decided, he was never going to get it right, "-let's wing it."
Dean let out a big long breath, shaking his hands as if to ready himself. And he really needed to do so.
He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-
"You can do this, Winchester," he mumbled to himself, "-You killed God, what's a damn love confession?"
Love, love, love, chimed through his head.
His stomach churned, but he stayed focused -eyes squeezed shut. Taking a few deep breaths, he stayed silent for a while. Maybe thinking a little too hard in his head, but at this point, there was no use in fighting it.
He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-
Dean let out a shaky breath, and opened his mouth -words slow and particular, "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me or if you're busy-"
Before he could finish another word, a voice called out from behind him.
"Dean," his voice was measured with a sort of lilt (maybe concern).
"Goddammit, Cas," he jumped, flinching, but turning to the angel on instinct, "-you gotta stop doing that."
He skimmed over him a second like he couldn't believe he was real. But he was, and he was standing right in front of him. Before he could say another word though, Cas started searching over him -quickly.
He lifted his arm (grabbing him by the wrist, Dean's brain froze a little), looking for an injury maybe, "Are you alright?"
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"What? Yeah," he blinked the haze out of his eyes, "-yeah, I'm fine, Cas. I'm in Heaven, what could hurt me?"
He furrowed his eyebrows in the way he always did and seemed to take him in a second. Blue eyes looked him over, maybe trying to tell if he was lying or not. (He probably could, if he was.) The way that he looked at him so intently always made him want to squirm, or run away, or make some odd comment.
It was a little relieving to see it now though.
"It's good to see you," Dean spoke without thinking about it. It was the first thing he thought of.
And it was, Cas being here felt like that missing piece was back in place. Perfectly slotted. It was kinda clouding his judgment.
Cas did the head tilt thing that he always did (and Dean let himself think for the first time that it was cute), eyebrows furrowing together. Even if Dean didn't know him well enough, he would've known he was confused.
"It's good to see you too, Dean," he finally spoke, cautiously but still so damn genuine, "-Although, I do wish we met in different circumstances."
Dean laughed a little, and the silence felt like he was being swallowed whole. But he just couldn't open his mouth.
"Dean?" He still said it exactly the same as he did the first day he met him. It made his head spin a little.
He looked at him, wordlessly.
"Why am I... here?"
Dean pushed his lips together, kind of deflecting, "When did you get out?"
Cas looked at him, maybe a little guiltily but still very sound, "Jack got me out... as soon as he had the power to."
"So, what-" he stated, trying to clarify, "-uh, right after Chuck was taken care of? When he snapped everybody back into existence?"
"Yes," Cas answered, "-After he left the two of you, he spoke to the Empty and got me out. It apparently wasn't easy, but..."
Dean but at his lip a little, looking to the ground a second, "So... So, all those weeks I was on Earth, you were out? Alive?"
Cas was just staring at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. Dean saw something shift through his eyes that couldn't really understand.
"And you-" he continued, now a little frustrated, "-you what, you didn't think to at least tell me that?"
"Dean-"
"No, no," he interrupted, "-I thought you were dead, Cas. Gone. And you just didn't want to tell me?"
"That's not," he let out a big long sigh, "-That's not the case, Dean."
"Sure as hell looks like it," he scoffed, and maybe he was frustrated but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Not anymore.
"I thought," Cas cleared his throat, maybe a little awkwardly, "-I thought you wouldn't want to see me."
"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" Dean asked, incredulously.
"The last..." he echoed out, like he didn't want to say the wrong thing, "-The last meeting we had wasn't preferable to you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
He rolled around the thought in his head a second, and all he got was resounding defiance, but he couldn't quite say that yet. His head just kept pounding.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"Did you-" he started again, searching for answers, "-After the Empty, did you think I was happy?"
Cas looked at him a second, before swinging his eyes to his sleeve almost instinctively (where the bloody handprint would've been), "Not happy necessarily."
"But your damn deal, or whatever," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "-you had to be happy. Completely happy."
"Yes," he answered, inquisitively, "-What is this about, Dean?"
"Cas," he responded, his voice a little shaky (he could see his eyes hitch on it), "-did you think I would care? That I wouldn’t give a damn if you died?"
He pressed his lips together and didn't say a word. Dean thought it was the most telling thing in the world.
His lungs felt like they were tied with rope -he couldn't get a good breath in. Like he was suffocating-
"Really?"
"You looked-" Cas tried to defend himself, "-You looked happy, Dean."
"Yeah," he explained, as if it was obvious, "-because you wanted me to be. And I was trying. For you."
He didn't respond.
"Because what good was a damn sacrifice if I didn't try?"
Cas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Even though it looked like he was trying, maybe even trying to understand what Dean was expressing. Like he couldn't see it, or didn't believe it.
God, he really doesn't know how much I care?
He posed another question, wringing his hands, "Do you know how I died, Cas?"
"Of course I do, Dean."
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"I've had a lot of time to do some thinking," Dean continued, walking a little in place, "-and I think... No, I know that I did it on purpose."
"Don't say that," Cas spoke, voice heavy with something.
"Sammy wanted to call an ambulance," he continued, looking down at his hands and still walking, "-and I didn't let him."
"And you think-" something smoothed over in his eyes, "-you think you could've survived?"
"Maybe," he offered, "-I guess I don't know, but I... Cas, I didn't try. I didn't fight it. I spent my whole life fighting it, and when it mattered most, I didn't damn fight it."
Cas's face fell a little, some sort of understanding in his eyes, agreement even. It rattled through Dean's bones, and made it a little hard to stand a moment.
"I never thought that I could leave Sammy alone," he continued, and one of his hands racked through his hair, "-I was scared shitless to. But it was so easy to just give up. I wasn't... I wasn't living, Cas. Despite whatever you think in that angel head of yours, I was not damn happy."
Cas just looked at him, eyes flicking between his, trying to understand. He took a second, before replying, "I'm sorry, Dean. I would never want to cause you so much pain."
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
Dean's heart was pounding in his chest. He felt for a second that maybe it would burst through his ribcage like it did in cartoons. It felt damn powerful enough.
His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the urge for to say it. It was on the very tip of his tongue.
"I know, Cas," he deflected (something in his chests stung, coward), "-I know."
Cas just looked at him then, scanning over his face. He could tell there was something else, he looked right into his damn soul every time he looked at him, and there was something else. Dean waited a second, to see if he'd say anything, but he was hit with a resounding no.
Maybe he thought he'd already said enough. Too much maybe. Dean didn't know if he agreed with him or not.
"Cas, I-" he spoke, maybe a little quietly, "-I can't be happy without you. You gotta know that."
He was looking at him more intensely now, still trying to understand it all. Like maybe he couldn't imagine what Dean was trying to say. Or maybe like he couldn't even fathom it.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"I know you didn't-" he cleared his throat, eyes flickering away (he couldn't look at him right now), "-I know you didn't see me. When you, uh, died, any of the times. But I- I gotta tell ya, I was far from happy."
Cas didn't interrupt him, he just kept looking. Staring. Like every word he said was important.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
He just kept talking, at this point he could stop (his eyes burned), "I kept your goddamn trenchcoat in Baby the whole time you were..."
He thought maybe for a second he was working himself up, but he couldn't stop now.
"And when Lucifer stabbed you," he pressed his lips together, and swallowed, "-I gave you a hunter's funeral and... and watched your body burn up into flames."
"Dean," Cas spoke, he could maybe see the edge he was teetering on. Maybe he could see that he was going to cry, and that was new. Maybe he was trying to soothe-
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"And then, when the Empty got you," Dean's voice shook a little, "-I stayed there, for a... a while and cried, probably the most I ever have in my life-"
Cas flinched, maybe a little guiltily, "Dean."
"-I couldn't even answer Sam's damn phone call."
He was holding out his hands now, a little like how cops did, in those shows, when the perpetrator had a weapon or was threatening his own life. Cautious, careful. A little like he'd explode. Voice careful and measured, "Dean, I didn't know-"
"I know that, Cas," he interrupted, maybe a little defensively but he couldn't help it, "-I've been beating myself up about it since I realized that I never made it goddamn clear to you that I cared."
"Don't," Cas replied, a little pained, "-There's no need for that, Dean."
"For what? The fact that I didn't- That you didn't-" his words stuttered in his chest, and he just couldn't speak.
"I know now," he tried to soothe, and Dean's head was pounding, "-I know now that you... care. I know."
Care, care, care.
Love, love, love.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
It felt like his heart was in his throat, like everything was waiting to be said. Like it was right there, and he was so close.
"Is that what you wanted to talk about, Dean?"
All he could hear was his heartbeat in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding-
I love him, I love him, I love him-
God, he didn't want him to leave.
This house was his too, he could just feel it in the walls. There was something missing, there was always something missing. Even when he was alive-
"Dean?"
How long had he wanted this? Wanted more?
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"Dean."
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"Dean, are you alright?"
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"Dean," his hands were on his shoulders now (just like before-), "-can you hear me?"
Pounding, pounding, pounding.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
Pounding, pounding, pounding.
I love him, I love him, I love him-
Pounding, pounding, pounding.
"Dean!"
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"Shit, Cas, you can have it!"
Cas looked startled for a moment, but he didn't step away, he didn't let go. Dean's stomach twisted. "What are you-"
"Back, back before the Empty... you said-"
Cas just stared at him, it made Dean want to stop but he couldn't stop-
"-you said, 'The one thing I want, I know I can't have'-"
He just kept talking, and Cas kept staring -something shining in his eyes. Dean thought he knew what.
"-and I'm pretty damn sure that thing was me-"
Cas was looking at him the way he always did, and Dean recognized it for what it was now.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"-You can have it, Cas," he was speaking softer now, a little out of breath, "-You've... You've always had it. Had... Had me."
Cas was just staring a little in disbelief, dropping his hands, and stepping back a little (it made Dean's heart sting).
I love him, I love him, I love him-
"You don't-" he shook his head, not quite looking at him, "-You don't know what you're saying."
"I'm pretty damn sure I do," he responded, a little biting but there was just so much. It couldn't come out any other way.
Cas stared at him like he was trying to find the confusion, the lie, but he was coming up empty-handed. Wonder why the fuck that is.
"Goddammit, Cas," he pushed his palms into his eyes, "-are you gonna make me say it?"
"Say what?" He asked, like it wasn't obvious. Like he couldn't fathom it. It made Dean's hands shake, and his throat clog up.
He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-
"Damn it, I love you too!"
The silence that filled the room was suffocating, but Dean just needed to breathe-
"And I can't be happy without you," he spoke, eyes still behind his hands (he couldn't look), "-and I want you to goddamn stay for once."
There was another beat.
"With me," and he thought he may have sounded a little pathetic, but he was very much past that point already.
And there was no one here who would ever judge him. Cas would never judge him and he knew that. He knew that like he knew that the sun rises in the morning and falls at night. Cas would never.
Before he knew what was happening, he felt hands pulling back his own -calloused fingertips against his own. Dean's breath hitched in his chest.
He loves me? He loves me? He loves me?
Cas was close now, and before he fully let go, he kept his hands on his face -cradling. And at first Dean thought he might kiss him (which he wasn't sure how to feel about), but he just kept them there.
He was looking at him like he always does (with love) and holding him a little like he was precious maybe, to him. Dean still couldn't understand that, but he thought one day he might be able to. That Cas might help him to.
"Okay, Dean," he spoke, gentle after a long sort of silence, "-I'll stay."
I love him.
He loves me.
#supernatural#castiel#destiel#dean winchester#deancas#spn#destiel fic#destiel fanfic#destiel fanfiction#watchoutwriting#spn finale fix-it#the apple pie life for me (and you)
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Standing on a Ledge, Standing on a Precipice
Instead of Dick, you find Jason on the ledge. It starts to uncover something you would rather it didn't.
TW: suicidal thoughts and actions (I mean the entire scene is literally him ready to pitch himself off the edge), discussions of suicidal thoughts and actions, probably some unhealthy codependency, and probably some unhealthy coping mechanisms
Please let me know if you want me to add more.
A/N: I couldn't get that scene out of my head, of Jason standing there. This is probably so bad, I'm sorry. I'll probably write a sequel to this, ngl.
"Jason," you asked, crossing your arms on the ledge he was standing on, "how long have we been friends?"
"A long fuckin' time," he told you, sniffling.
"We were- what, 10- when we met?" you inquired, looking over the city as it bustled by, ignorant to the boy ready to pitch himself off the roof at any moment.
"Yeah."
"Almost a decade then. Think about that, Jay. We've known each other nearly half of our lives. In another decade, it'll be two thirds."
"Doll, I probably won't make it another decade," Jason replied, looking down at the people who were strolling by down below.
"Why are you up here, Jay?"
"C'mon, you know me, doll. I'm poison, whatever I touch I destroy."
"That's not true, Jay. You wanna know how I know?"
Jason was clearly just humoring you when he asked, "How?"
"Because who is the one person that you touch the most? The person who's had the most contact with you in your life?"
"You," he reluctantly admitted.
"And who's still alive and kicking despite the universe's best efforts otherwise?"
"You."
"Jason, look at me," you implored, turning towards him. "Please?"
"You're not playin' fair, doll. You know I can't say no to that face," he complained, turning to look at you.
"All's fair in love and war," you reminded him. "C'mon Jay, you're my best friend. Don't you think if you were the problem that something would've happened to me already?"
Jason couldn't argue with that and you knew it.
He knew it too, based on the way he was scowling now instead of crying.
"Jay, they have no fucking clue who you are," you said, reaching up to take his hand in yours. "And as cliche as it sounds, they don't know you like I do. I know you didn't do any of the shit that they're accusing you of."
"How'd you know?"
"For one thing, it's not really your style," you said with a smirk, watching as Jason gave you an unimpressed look. "But mostly, I just know you. It just... it doesn't fit."
You shrugged, daring to tug lightly on Jason's hand, urging him back towards safety.
"Jason, you know you don't have to stay here, right?" you asked, threading your fingers through his, sliding your palms together. "Clearly they don't really care whether you stay or go, except maybe Gar and Conner. You can go wherever you want."
Jason didn't say anything for a moment, and he waited long enough that you thought perhaps he wasn't going to say anything at all in response to what you'd told him, but then he asked, "If I wanted to go somewhere they didn't know who we were, would you go with me?"
"What?"
"If I wanted to get out of Gotham, leave the Titans, find some random town on a map and disappear, would you come with me?"
"You'd never leave Gotham like that, but if you wanted to run away, we could. I mean, we've done it before right? We both have all the necessary documentation to go to college, we both graduated high school, we can work pretty much any minimum experience job we want. Is that what you want to do? Disappear for a few years? Maybe a lifetime?"
Jason actually thought about it for a moment. You could tell because of the way his brows furrowed, the way he his mouth turned down into something more absentminded than a scowl.
"No. You're right, I could never leave Gotham like that. But it's a nice thought," Jason admitted softly, hopping down from the ledge to wrap his arms around you, disentangling your hands so he could rub a line up and down your spine. You slid your hands into his hair in response, grinning when he melted against you, like he was trying to burrow into you. "You'd really run away with me?"
"I've done it before," you reminded him. "I mean, I think we're codependent enough that even if you ran away without me, I'd still find you. But I can see us in our own place, away from Bruce and the Manor. You going to class to get an education degree or something. Volunteering at the theatre on your time off. Drama coach maybe."
"You've thought about it?" Jason asked quietly, hands stilling.
There was something in his tone that had you tensing. It wasn't something you heard often, given Jason's usual allergy to feelings and discussing them, even with you sometimes, but this sounded similar. It was a tone he adopted when he had been told something he didn't quite know what to do with, something he didn't quite know how to feel about.
"I mean, you haven't? We're practically ancient, Jason," you tried, attempting humor as an out.
Jason didn't take it.
"You've seriously thought about us like that?" he asked, pulling away just enough to see your face.
Something akin to terror crawled up your throat at his phrasing. Something rose like a tidal wave, threatening to drag you under.
You had to get the situation back under control. You had to do something to divert his attention.
Despite what Jason seemed to think, it was rather easy to love him. Yes, he was brash, impulsive, rather allergic to authority in most forms, and he was as stubborn as a mule, but his heart was in the right place most of the time. He was just another kid who'd been fucked over the people in his life, the system, and just the universe in general.
Having known him since you were kids was a huge advantage when it came to getting past Jason's defenses, but that didn't mean that you incapable of stepping on a land mine.
Jason let you do a lot of things others could only dream about. Touching him as freely as you could was a gift, being able to tease and poke fun was delightful and carefully regulated to when there was no one else around.
But admitting that you had feelings for him that weren't entirely platonic was the equivalent of throwing your relationship with him over the ledge he'd just been standing on.
It had been pretty easy, the last few years, to hide it. At first, there had been a phase where, no matter what was going on, even the thought of Jason had you grinning. Then there had been the warm cheeks and the upset stomach. Those things had settled into a low contentment.
It didn't matter that there was no way in hell he returned your feelings. It didn't matter that there was no way in hell you were going to get half of the things that you wanted. It was okay. Because having him as a friend was a thousand times better than losing him.
Giving him the support that he needed and getting his friendship in return was more than enough.
Besides, he had made his type very clear, and it wasn't you.
You chuckled awkwardly as Jason continued to stare at you. "I mean, Jay, c'mon, do you really think you and Bruce could live in the same house- even one as big as the Manor- forever? I mean, I know we wouldn't live together forever either though. You're gonna get a partner at some point and I'll either move out or you will."
You tried to back up, to put some space between you, like that would lessen the intensity of the stare he was giving you, but Jason clung tighter.
He wasn't letting you go, then.
"No, I don't think that's what you meant," he said, resolving settling into his voice as he somehow managed to pull you closer. "That's not what it sounded like."
"What did it sound like?" slipped out without your permission, and you had the sudden, intense urge to throw yourself off the ledge, just to save yourself the embarrassment.
This also didn't seem like the kind of conversation that you should have been having with the friend who had been contemplating pitching themselves off the roof of a building just a few minutes ago.
"Doll," Jason started, but you panicked.
"Look, Jay, a lot of people think shit like that about their friends. Well, normal people anyway. It doesn't have to be a weird thing. Please don't make it a weird thing."
You watched as his face went through about fifty different emotions before he hesitantly nodded.
"Good, then we should probably head back inside. Tell me tomorrow what the plan is," you said, pushing yourself out of his arms and backing towards the exit.
You paused by the door, just to make sure that he was following you in. You were desperate, not stupid.
Hopefully, this would be one of the things that Jason let go. One could hope anyway.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#reader#jason my beloved#jason todd angst#jason todd fluff#dc titans jason todd#dc titans jason todd fluff#dc titans jason todd angst#i want to put my hands in his hair#i want to love this man#jason todd is baby and you can't convince me otherwise
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I'm back with some more biblical lore >:'D
I've been thinking lately and noticed how similar Mc is to a Nephilim. In case you didn't know; Nephilim are the spawn from a union between a Human and an Angel. If lilith somehow kept her Angel DNA after being reincarnated as a human and MC being their distant descendant, chances are Mc is more Nephilim than human.
Another thing i would like to point out is; How powerful Mc is! The game even mentions that Mc is probably more powerful than Solomon (Twice mind you). In Lesson 62-19, Lucifer states that there are probably only a few demons who could pose a threat to MC due to how powerful they have become. And if i remember correctly in Lesson 76-19, Simeon stole the ring of light from the Celestial Realm without permission for Mc cuz they couldn't control their power. Now where am i getting with this? You see, a Nephilim is considered one of the most powerful entities in the universe due to being able to become stronger than its angelic parents. Nephilim are greater in power because not only do they possess the power of the Angelic parentage but a Human soul to enhance it, creating a supremely powerful being. Nephilim were also stated to have been quite destructive with their powers especially if they couldn't control said powers.
MC could be so powerful it could pose a threat everyone. Basically, Mc is capable to be more powerful than any demon or angel. Maybe this could be why the Celestial Realm (or Michael for that matter) kepts a close eye on Mc on all times.
Actually, i have more thoughts to do this but i don't want to spam you full with text. Until next time ✌🏻
-Angsty Anon.
Ah yes, nephilim, I am indeed familiar with this concept! I can't remember where I first heard about it. I'm pretty sure I knew about them before Supernatural had one in the later seasons... but I can't remember where I first heard it.
Anyway, I think a lot of this depends on how the ancestry works in the OM world. They don't tell us this information, of course, so it's hard to say. But Lilith is one of MC's distant ancestors, so her angel DNA by normal human standards would be extremely diluted at this point. Not gone entirely, but certainly not the same amount that MC would have if they had had one full angelic parent.
Which isn't to say that they aren't still a powerful nephilim. Since this is all made up, it just depends on whatever worldbuilding the game decides to go with. (If they bring this up at all, which they might not.) I mean in that they could say in order to be considered a nephilim, one has to have a fully angelic parent. But they could also say, it doesn't matter. The angelic DNA could be so strong and powerful enough that it manifests in MC just as strongly as it would if MC had a fully angelic parent. If they did go with that, though, I think there'd need to be some kind of special exception for MC specifically. Because otherwise every human in MC's lineage would also have had that same amount of power, possibly more.
I think it'd be interesting if MC's reason was honestly just... they came to the Devildom! That power was always latent in them (and iirc this is kinda how they describe it in the game too), but it isn't brought out until they start making pacts and befriending angels and so forth.
They definitely already have destructive levels of power. MC needed the Ring of Light in order to contain that power because it was fucking with the worlds without MC even doing anything. That's why it was like a matter of desperation that they sever their pacts and blah blah.
I think MC is currently a threat to the stability of the worlds, but because they have the Ring of Light, that keeps their power stable instead of going haywire all the time.
Anyway, MC is OP and whether that's due to just their life circumstances or because of their angel DNA, the game hasn't specified. Which means you get to make up whatever you want, which is always fun!
I was also under the impression that nephilim are often so dangerous that regular angels won't even suffer them to live. Like if they find out about it, they're gonna hunt that nephilim down because nobody that powerful should exist. Most stories seem to go this route with it. But here we got Michael bein like... I gotta watch this one, but I'm not gonna kill 'em. LOL. And I think that's an interesting aspect. They don't really interfere much at all, even when MC was an active threat.
In fact, they straight up punished Simeon for doing the one thing that would save the worlds from MC's power without anyone having to die.
I'm still mad about it.
Anyway, I will tag this as spoilers just in case, I know not everybody is caught up on all the seasons in OG.
But I like this concept! It's certainly interesting to think about and to consider all the different things that could go into it!
#sorry to ramble#I just get excited about these kinds of details#anyway feel free to share more if you would like to#obey me#obey me spoilers#spoilers#obey me mc#angsty anon#misc answers
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3.102 Negotiations
I thought about the whole money tree argument all night, and while I understood Sophia's concerns, it still didn't sit well with me. Dub's words from his note echoed in my head. "Financial freedom to pursue your dreams," he said. I knew she preferred to live a simple life, but didn't she have bigger dreams than just being married to me and raising our children? I heard the TV on, so I got up to address the topic again. My goal wasn't to change her mind—though I hoped she would—but to present my case coherently. I was blinded by the simoleons I didn't even have yet and failed to put a counteroffer on the table. If she could hear my thoughts, maybe she could see it in a different light.
"Good morning," I said.
"Have you ever seen this show? It's so fun!"
"Uhh...no. Can we talk?"
"Of course," she said, turning off the TV. "What's on your mind so early?"
"I want to revisit the money tree situation."
"Okay. Sure."
"You presented your reasons for limiting its use, but I don't think I did a good job explaining why I think we shouldn't, and I'd like you to hear what I think."
"Okay," she said slowly. "So, what's up?"
"You said it would be an insult to return the gift, but I think it would be an insult to ignore Dub's wishes."
Her eyebrow went up a little bit, but she was still tracking with me, so I went on.
"I understand your hesitation, but we don't have to let the money change anything about us. We can be ourselves, but with peace of mind and more opportunities. I think maybe your childhood is influencing how you're seeing this, but so is mine. I'm gonna tell you a different part of my story so you can see where I'm coming from."
"Sure."
"Okay..."
I took a deep breath and hoped my story would work some magic.
"You've been around my parents enough to know my mom is the one with the money."
"Yeah. That's obvious."
"Right. She spoiled us...she still does, heh. But we weren't spoiled brats. We had everything we needed, and a few things we wanted, but we didn't live extravagantly. We went to public school, wore regular clothes, and lived in a middle class neighborhood. For a long time, my mom had an office job. And even now, she still works her candle business. We weren't rich by any means. We were comfortable. I know this because when we went to my dad's house, it was not comfortable. He came home tired every day and didn't have the energy to spend time with us. He never took us anywhere, and there was nothing to do at his house-"
"But that's not what-"
"Wait. Let me finish. I haven't made my point yet."
"Okay. Sorry."
"My grandparents bought my mom a little house and gave her a chunk of money when she moved out so she could have peace of mind and time to explore the world and figure out what she wanted to do without the pressure of bills and working a job she hated."
Sophia nodded and smiled, giving me hope that my story already inspired her to change her mind.
"When we moved out, she did the same thing for us…except for the house, of course. It wasn't a ton of money, but I could have gotten a cheap apartment if I wanted to."
"Or a tiny house," she said, gesturing vaguely.
"Ha! Yeah, I could have afforded this. She's still taking care of us. I keep telling her she doesn't need to keep doing things for us, but all she says is when I have a child, I'll understand."
Sophia nodded.
"Yeah...I remember hearing her say that in Tartosa."
"Yeah... I may not have a child yet, but I do want to give it every opportunity I had and then some. I don't want it to worry and feel how we felt at my dad's house."
"I get that. I don't want that either."
"And what you said about your parents. They were older when they adopted you because it took forever to save the money. If we want to send off our children with a little something, we have to start saving now. We can't wait until a week before they're gone to start harvesting the tree. Maybe we don't take from it every day. Maybe just once or twice a week, or whenever we think about it. But just leaving the tree alone until we need it? That's not gonna give our children the kind of future I want them to have. I want to continue what my grandparents started. I don't think we should waste this opportunity."
She sat there, nodding and staring at me like she didn't realize I was done. But then she turned away, stared at the floor, and sighed.
"Wow... Your family history is filled with so much love and support."
I grabbed her hands, hoping to seal the deal and provide a little comfort.
"Yes. And you're part of that family now. I just want to continue the cycle. That's all. I don't want to start wearing labels and buy a big house in Del Sol. I just want to spend time with my family without consequence."
"I can't argue with that. I'm still not letting you give up on yoga, though."
I laughed. "I didn't expect you would."
"And to be clear," I continued, "I'm not gonna give up. I just don't want to be in a position where I'm still hustling and missing everything going on at home. You'll be here, so I know everything will be fine, but I want to be here too. I want our children to have all the benefits of living in a two-parent house."
"That's beautiful, Luca. I see the whole picture now. I've just decided I'm definitely not to going back to work."
I beamed at her.
"Really?? That's awesome! I love that for you."
"So, what do you think you'll do?"
"I don't know yet. I don't want to give up on teaching just yet, but I'll probably spend more time on SimTube. I have time to figure it out, though. Speaking of the hustle...I gotta go. I love you, Sophia. I love our life, and I can't wait to see how it turns out."
"I love you more!"
#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#luca winston murillo#sophia aguilar
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I'm imagining when reader and bina were sneaking out without dottores knowledge, they tried sneaking back in through the window of readers room, but the window they went through was the one in dottores lab... the scene of the segments trashing the lab as they planned to leave since nobody saw them. But a certain person did. Omega. Even if they were to run away, he would rat them out eventually...
(x) No because this is so funny 😭. You knew the insides of the lab like the back of your hand, having spent countless years within them, but from the outside? It seems like your brain couldn't calculate the positions of the room that easily... leading to your current predicament with your fellow friend. It was hard to navigate - there weren't many windows in the lab in general, considering the kind of place it was, but the building was so big... having to walk so much was a lot of work... unfortunately, luck always seemed to side against you (besides the fact you managed to pull Dottore).
You had hoped to at least end up at a window in a deserted part of the lab so you could make it to your room without being spotted but, as soon as the two of you rose up from crouching, you were faced with the complete opposite.
Chaos. No doubt because of you! The poor Fatui agents in a mixture of fear and amazement at the sight in front of him. Needless to say, you were feeling the same thing. Maybe... you should just... exit the situation right now. Yeah, you should just- but then the turning of a familiar blue head had you yanking Bina down out of sight as you immediately began fretting.
"Did he see you, Bina? Did he see me?! This was a horrible idea, what am I going to say when I go back in-" Columbina, on the other hand, didn't seem nearly as anxious as you. In fact, she seemed to be amused at the predicament.
"I don't see any reason to worry. I doubt the Doctor will be as displeased as you think," she hummed while you were tearing your hair out next to her.
"How do you know that?" You had never really broken much of Dottore's rules, except for refusing to down yucky medicine and running away from check-ups.
"He fancies you far more than that, dear. It's quite obvious." You could only whine into your friend's shoulder for reassurance before a voice interrupted the two of you from above.
"I see you've finally decided to show your face again, [Name]." Omega's unusually stern voice towards you nearly made you jump while Bina seemed to have expected this based on her continuous smile, who then patted your shoulder comfortingly before bidding you farewell, leaving you there with the segment looming over you from the window. Rigidly, you turned back to Omega and awkwardly smiled at him.
"So... nice weather, right? Very nice snow!" Unfortunately, your words didn't seem very funny to him.
You had a lot of explaining and apologizing to do. Bina, however, plans on paying you a visit again regardless of the consequences.
#smooches talks#dottore love notes <3#fragile reader <3#columbina is a horrible influence and u get up to more antics w her anyway
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Could Mr. Bennet have saved money for his daughters?
I am the sort of person who hears that girls would have so many thousand in their fortunes (JA never uses the word “dowry”, fun fact) and I cannot understand how someone with £2000/year makes a £3000 pound lump sum for their daughter. Because my brain doesn’t math very well inside itself. So I made up some tables to see what Mr. Bennet could have done if he was prudent.
First, let's be realistic, how much can they save? I am giving three different scenarios, £25, £50, and £100 per annum per daughter. £100 each I think might be a little high, since their income is £2000 a year, that would be 25% of their income! I think £50 is well within reason, that would be only £250 per annum and therefore 12% of their income.
I did both 4% and 5% interest. These are both government bonds. I know that both are mentioned in Jane Austen’s works. The 4% might be safer and a better investment for a dowry. But there isn’t a huge difference. Anyway, here is Jane’s dowry, over 21 years:
Even if they saved only £50/year, Jane now has almost £2000 as a dowry. It’s not the £10k worthy of a baronet, but that is certainly a good start!
If the Bennets tried hard and save £100 per year, she has almost £4000, which is what her mother brought to the marriage. Even the modest £25 per year would give the girls £1000 each by their 21st birthday, which if their father died would be combined with the £1000 stipulated in the marriage articles and give them a comfortable income. Even John Dashwood acknowledges in Sense & Sensibility that increasing his half-sister’s fortunes from £1000 to £2000 would make a big difference in their comfort (and then he doesn’t do it because he and his wife are the worst).
An alternative plan would be to put aside the £4000 that Mrs. Bennet brought into the marriage and only reinvest that income. It does seem that the mother’s money was often locked up in a “life interest” and then given to the children, which is true for the Bennets as well. Just saving the initial £4000 and never adding to it except re-investing the income would have yielded around £11,00, or £2200 for each daughter.
Also, I really want to know how the son plan would have worked in the first place. Like Mr. Bennet Jr. is going to agree to break the entail and sell off a bunch of his inheritance, when he could just keep the entail and then get the whole pie? Or was the plan just to burden his own son with the care of a mom and five sisters? Not clear. Probably also a bad plan.
#pride and prejudice#mr. bennet#save some money for your daughters#jane austen#I know it takes like a tiny amount of effort#but I believe in you#except I don't because you didn't do any of this#Mr. Morland did more with a small income#this was like Mr. Bennet's one job#and he totally failed#not even a basic emergency fund
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