#there was no reason for him to be erased and blacklisted the way he was... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ybangtannies · 3 years

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Hiiii I am new t the whole requesting thing so first for everything 🥰 So, here it goes A scenario for yandere namjoon where there’s lawyer y/n who’s hardworking and mature x businessman namjoon who is corrupt in his business ways 👉👈 I dunno if this is okay 🤡

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Word count: 3.1k

“I don’t get it, why don’t we just throw them off and stop having them as our clients? This could end so bad for us, the whole law firm could be affected by their- his antics.”

“We have already talked about this,” your friend sighed not sparing you a look, eyes focused on her phone, “yes, it’s a well-known secret that Mr. Kim’s business is corrupt, and he surely doesn’t make the most legal negotiations but,” now she did look at you, her brown eyes showing the tiredness of having to have this conversation with you, again, “we don’t really have the liberty of saying no to him. A lot of tabloids would be up in no time if we decided to stop representing them which would lead to him surely making declarations against us and that wouldn’t surely end up being beneficial for us. We’re already a small firm, Mr. Kim being our client is a huge deal, most of our - including yours- income comes from his business.”

You sighed, about to reply that yes, you understand her point but maybe if you made public those documents that prove his corrupt ways, the whole scene could be different for the firm and you’d be able to turn the tables, but she beat you and added, “plus, he’s a whole snack, girl, why are you even complaining?”

Not even bothering to answer, you rolled your eyes and let out a groan, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your office. On your way there, you saw your boss, “Good morning, y/n,” he said with a smile, “please remember that Mr. Kim is coming later to discuss some things with you.”

The smile you previously had on your face faltered a little, surely you decided it was better to erase that from your mind and was hoping -in vain- that another thing would have come up so Namjoon couldn’t make it to the meeting. “Of course, Mr. Min, I already have prepared the files he asked me about and possible solutions.”

“Good, it’s wonderful to see how hard you work, y/n. Keep it like that, and you’ll make it big.” With that and another polite smile, Mr. Min walked away from you.

You sighed heavily and finally arrived at your office. It seems that these days the only thing you do is sigh and feel frustrated. Of course, you knew that being a lawyer in a firm meant that you won’t always be working for people you like but you didn’t think that it would entail working with a corrupt businessman without any chance of exposing him or just putting a halt to your contract with him. You knew the risks of doing that, of course, and that it would most likely mean you being fired alongside all your co-workers and put on a blacklist for all the other law firms to know that you weren’t trustworthy. However, that didn’t shake the guiltiness and rage you felt when thinking about how hard you have worked all your life to get where you are now just to risk it all for an asshole that was incompetent enough to do dangerous deals with people he shouldn’t.

You were wrong, though, Namjoon wasn’t an incompetent, quite the contrary actually. He was a very clever man indeed, knowing that having a law firm by his side would most likely help him cover his back in case something was to happen, especially if said firm is small and he is the main source of income.

“Mr. Kim is here” said the receptionist through the phone.

“Okay, send him up here.”

You collected your thoughts and breathed deep, praying you won’t snap at him like it had happened some other times before. It wasn’t just that you didn’t like the way he was managing his company but his personality and overall aura… you didn’t like it, not one bit. No matter how handsome and attractive he was.

A knock was heard in your office, followed by a voice “It’s Kim Namjoon, Mrs. y/s, may I come in?”

You arched your brow looking at him through the glass windows your office had, seeing his dimples showing because of the smile he had on his face.

“You may, Mr. Kim” you spoke in a monotonous voice, focusing again on the screen of your computer.

Namjoon’s smile turned to be more amused seeing your reaction, the one as always: trying your best not to look at him. He opened the door and walked in, closing it after him and taking a seat in a chair in front of your desk, not waiting for you to ask him to do it. You probably wouldn’t, anyways.

Of course, he knew the animosity you felt towards him and while at first that made him a little miserable and he almost lost his mind, with time he started finding it more amusing than anything and viewed it as a challenge to finally get on your good side. Naturally, the desire of taking you with him to keep you in his house was always at the back of his mind and he knew that sooner or later he would have to resort to that if he wanted you to be finally his, which of course he did. Until that moment, though, he would enjoy you being feisty towards him, it was amusing and kind of endearing seeing you struggling and fighting against yourself to not give in.

“How are you feeling on this beautiful day, Mrs. y/s?” Namjoon asked with a grin, if you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s actually interested in your answer.

He’s so hot, y/n! And the fact that he’s going against the law and with your help at that, only succeeds at making the situation even hotter.

That’s the message your friend sent you merely minutes ago, probably when she saw Namjoon was on his way to your office. Message you, of course, decided to ignore.

“It’s been good so far but I’m afraid that a big black cloud has just appeared to ruin it” you answered with a fake smile and felt pride at seeing how his smile faltered. You almost felt bad if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a criminal.

Namjoon cleared his throat, clearly ready to say one of the numerous flirty lines he’s been trying to use on you since the very beginning, but you were faster than him and asked about what it was that he needed help with this time.

“Ah, you see, there’s this huge deal I’m about to sign in two days so I thought that it would be a good idea for us both to go through the contract together and also, I wanted you to redact a confidential agreement.” You hated the way in which he said it, like if everything were okay, as if it was just a normal deal and there was nothing fishy about it. You also hated knowing that he could very much do this with his own men -it wouldn’t be the first time- but still decided to come here to torment you.

That was how time passed: you both going through the contract, making sure everything was in order -or as in order as it could considering there were definitely some fishy things that needed to be disguised or be described in a very vaguely-, you trying to dodge every attempt from Namjoon part at flirting with you and him finding it both amusing and adorable.

You danced in your interior once everything was done and it was finally time for him to leave, looking into your watch you realised it was almost time for you to go home as well and mentally sighed in relief. You got over another day.

“If that was all, Mr. Kim, you’re free to go now,” you said with a tired smile that Namjoon noticed didn’t reach your eyes. He so desperately wanted to make you smile for real, be the one on the receiving end of the cheerfulness he knew you had in you; he’d make sure he was the only one getting it one day. “I’ll send you the confidential agreement tomorrow before lunchtime so you can go through it in case there is something else that needs to be changed for the day of the signing.”

“Just one more thing, miss” he said, getting up from the chair he occupied for almost two hours in your office, “I think it’ll be better if you came to me with the agreement in person instead of just sending it to me.” Namjoon saw the protest and confusion on your face and before you could give him a negative, he talked again “there had been several attempts these past few weeks at hacking my accounts as well as the one of my other employers so I’d prefer it if the agreement could me better in my hands rather than on my email. We’re working on it, but until I’m sure there would be no possibility for a cyber-attack...an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure”

As much as you wanted to say, ‘fuck no, not in a million years I’m going to see you more than was needed’, you obviously couldn’t, and there was no good reason for you to deny his request.

“Sure, I understand it. I’ll be there tomorrow.” Your answer came more tense than you wanted to, but you wanted Namjoon to know of your discomfort at the premise of having to spend more time with him.

“I’ll send a car for you, darling, there’s no need for you to go anywhere.”

With that and a wink, Namjoon abandoned your office, leaving you there hanging, you wanted to refute that there is no need for him to send a car for you, that you can very happily go on your own and have a car that works very well but, of course, he always has to have the last words. You rolled your eyes and groaned, touching the bridge of your nose. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

As Namjoon said, a car was sent your way to the law firm you worked at to take you to his office, or at least that was where you supposed you were going to meet him. But upon seeing the car taking a completely different direction from where it should go, your uneasiness started growing.

“Excuse me,” you called for the attention of the chauffeur, “aren’t we going to Mr. Kim’s office?”

“No, Ms. y/s, I was told to take you to Mr. Kim’s place of residence.”

That fucker, you muttered under your breath. Once you arrived, you couldn’t help but gawk at Namjoon’s place of residence. You were expecting it to be huge and over the top, that’s the kind of house that Namjoon required to have considering the way he carried himself, but this was something else. A whole family could live here, and they wouldn’t even have to see each other if they didn’t want to -and you were referring to a family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and kids.

The chauffeur opened the door of the car for you and was the one leading the way into Namjoon’s mansion as well. The interior was even more dazzling if that was possible: it was decorated in a minimalistic and modern way but there was a hint of old fashioned in some of the furniture. It was exquisite. You were guided all through the mansion until you arrived at the front of two huge mahogany doors, the chauffeur -you felt bad you didn’t ask for his name, he seemed nice- knocked on one of them and from the other side you could hear Namjoon’s voice ordering whoever was at the other side to come in, immediately he opened the door and made you a gesture with his hands for you to go in. You nodded your head and muttered a ‘thank you’ before entering the room. The door closed right behind you.

Namjoon looked up from his computer and a smile quickly found its way to his face upon seeing you right there in the middle of his office. He got up from his chair and moved around his massive table. “Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you, please come and take a seat,” you did as tell and came near him, smiling slightly when Namjoon moved the chair so you could sit, “I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you with coming all the way here, some problems came up this morning and I wasn’t able to make it to my building.”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Kim?” You asked more out of courtesy than because you were actually concerned or interested in what his answer would be.

“Nothing you have to worry about, darling,” the paternalistic tone he used made you almost roll your eyes even if you were secretly grateful, he didn’t bother you with the problems of his corrupt business, “since it’s almost lunchtime, I asked my service to bring us the meal here later so we can eat together.”

“There was no need for that, Mr. Kim, I won’t be here much, you’re just required to go through the agreement and then I’ll be on my way to work again.”

Namjoon only hummed and went back to his chair in front of you. Without any further distractions you both proceeded to went through the document and, right as you stated, it didn’t take much time and since Namjoon didn’t really have any objections, you wrapped it up in no more than an hour but, much to your dismay, by that time the food has already been brought up to his office and you didn’t have it in you to deny it when it looked and smelled as delicious as it did.

“Please, try it,” Namjoon encouraged you, both of you have moved to one of the sofas on his office, and he took advantage of it and was now right next to you, “I didn’t know what you enjoy, so tell me if you don’t like this and I’ll ask for the chefs to make you something different.”

Now, that was a lie, Namjoon already knew everything there was to know about you, having made an exhaustive study of your life himself two days after seeing you for the first time; he knew the name of all your relatives, how many times you’d moved, the college you attended, the marks you got, hell, he even knew the name of all your ex-boyfriends and friends that were no longer in your life. You were fascinating to him, and he couldn't wait until he could uncover every single secret you kept to yourself.

“This looks amazing, I’m sure it’ll taste just the same” you said almost salivating, it’s been a long time since you last ate a proper home cooked meal. You could feel the intense gaze of Namjoon on you while you took the fork on your mouth and swallowed the food, you couldn’t help but make a sound of satisfaction at the taste and it was only in that moment that he averted his eyes from you at the sight, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the wine that was brought alongside the meal. “This is amazing! Thank you so much, Namjoon.”

You didn’t even notice you called him by his name or the real smile that was on your face and directed at him. But he did, and he could feel his heart galloping in his chest like crazy, feeling already addicted to hearing his name rolling on your tone without an annoyed tone to it and being on the receiving end of your more than beautiful smile.

You both kept eating and eventually started talking about everything and anything. It surprised you how you found yourself having a good time and enjoying Namjoon’s company more than what you thought you’d ever do. He was still an asshole in your eyes, and you didn’t like not one bit the way he made business, but you couldn’t deny that he gave you an interesting conversation and was funny even when he wasn’t trying to. Eventually though, you started to feel more and more dizzy, and a migraine was starting to form in your head.

“Is everything okay, darling? You’re getting paler by the second” you heard Namjoon voiced next to you, he sounded concerned and was closer to you than a minute before, one of his hands almost resting on your knee.

“Yeah...no, do you happen to have any pills? My head is starting to kill me…” your voice sounded estranged even to yourself and the strength was quickly leaving your body.

Before you could try to fight it, darkness consumed your every sense and the last thing you could feel or hear was Namjoon’s body pressed against yours and his smooth voice calling your name.

After twenty minutes or so, Namjoon finally decided that it was time to lead you to his room and rest your body on his bed. He’s been admiring your face, being this the first time, he has had the chance to do it from such a close distance, delighting himself in how perfect your body felt pressed to his and how from this day on, he’d be able to feel this way for the rest of his life.

He closed the door from his bedroom and locked it just in case, though he doubted you’ll wake up until tomorrow. On his way to the door, he made a call.

“What’s up, Namjoon?”

“I’m going there now, Yoongi. She’s already in my bed resting.”

Nothing more needed to be exchanged between the two men and Namjoon hung up right when he got into his car. Yoongi and Namjoon have been friends since they were both teenagers, having gone through a lot together. When Namjoon received an email with several photos of you he hadn’t order to take and a simple message saying, ‘we are keeping an eye on her too’, he knew he had to do something to keep you safe and it was actually Yoongi’s idea to lead you to Namjoon’s house, drug you and keep you there finally with him. They still had to figure out who the fuck had guessed Namjoon favoured you, but now that you were going to be safe by his side, he couldn’t help but smile silly all the way up to Yoongi’s building.

He knew he had a long way ahead of him until you fell in love with the same intensity, he had fallen for you, but he was sure you’d both get there and be the perfect couple he’d been dreaming of for so long.

#yandere namjoon #yandere bts #yandere jin #yandere yoongi #yandere jimin #yandere hoseok #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #yandere suga #yandere jhope #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere au

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dylanobrienisbatman · 3 years

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Omg give us ur rant abt hating d*rklina as a ship.. im petty

Okay Anon, so i saw this the other day and I wasn't in the right headspace to answer but i am now!

So to start off, I am firmly in the ship and let ship category. You like a ship, i don't care. That doesn't mean i won't rag on the ship itself but I don't send hate, I don't really engage with shippers from ships I don't like, and I am liberal with the block button and the blacklist feature. Cultivate your tumblr/online experience, y'all. You don't owe anyone on this hellsite (or any other) a damn thing.

However, I REALLY do hate d*rklina as a ship, and I have a big problem with the way the shippers talk about it, so I hope you were being serious about wanting a rant because here it goes.

As for the ship itself, i feel like the reasons I dislike it are pretty obvious and standard. It's abusive. He is her abuser. He manipulates her. He spends months grooming her and gaslighting her, intentionally trying to get her under his control so that when he literally enslaves her it will go over easier. He never actually loved her, he wanted to use her for her power. It's not complicated, it's not really 'up for debate', that is the way its written, and the author has explained that that was the intended interpretation of her work. I mean he literally sexually assaults her in the second book, and straight up tells her he's going to kill everyone she loves so that she has no choice but to fall to him because she is completely alone in the world. He threatens to skin her alive in the second book when they're on the boat, he has no problem torturing her to get Mal to do what he wants. That's not love. He does not love her. It's pretty black and white, its explicitly written as an abusive relationship. The point was to show how easily powerful men can manipulate and abuse young naive women who don't know any better and try to see the best in people. Alina 'fell' for the version of Darkles Sparkles that he intentionally created to try to control her. Nothing he told her was true, from his backstory, to them both being 'the only one like [each other]' (hello, baghra), to using Genya to convince Alina that Mal had abandoned her, everything he did was manipulation so that he could get her under his control. It is not a romance, it is not 'a ship war', d*rklina is not written as romantic. He is her abuser. Full stop.

There is also the point about him being just a generally horrible person all around. He's not morally grey. He just isn't. He sold an 11 year old into sex slavery, forced her to stay in that situation so he could use her, and then mutilated her when she defied him. He also groomed and abused Zoya, because he saw that she was exceptionally powerful and wanted to use her the way he wanted to use Alina. He enslaved Alina. He blinded and mutilated his own mother. He is a genocidal maniac. He shows no remorse, he doesn't care about anyone but himself and his own power. He is not the type of character that should be romantically shipped with anyone. If you like him, that's absolutely fine! One of my fave characters ever is Kai Parker from TVD. Dude was a straight up psychopath. He tried to kill multiple pairs of toddlers. He brutally murdered his pregnant sister AT HER WEDDING. He is a HORRIBLE person. But I think he's a brilliant character. But do I think he's a good guy, do I want him anywhere near any characters in that show in a romantic way (ehem b*nkai)? Absolutely fucking not. Being a fan of a villain character is fine, but fucking own that shit. Villains can be SUCH good characters, but they're still villains. Erasing the bad they've done so you can justify putting them in situations where they WILL harm the people around them because you can't level with yourself about the bad things they've done doesn't make you 'woke', it just makes you look like you don't understand the media you're consuming.

Which leads me to why I have such a problem with the way D*rklina shippers engage with the ship. They simultaneously wanna say "oh we know it's toxic/bad/abusive/etc., that's why we like it!" and then also they try to claim that it should be endgame, they romanticize scenes where he is abusing her (and by romanticize I mean they literally try to frame his abuse as romantic, not like "oh yeah my ship is interacting!!". those are different things. You can be excited about ship interactions without trying to say that things he is doing to her are actually romantic), they try to argue that he is morally grey/misunderstood/etc., and they straight up try to lie and say he's not her abuser.

If you wanna ship an abusive ship, own it. Be straight up about why you like it. It's okay to be into dark shit, y'all. It does NOT make you a bad person to be into dark shit. But this idea that fiction doesn't impact real life, and that people can't call the ship out for what it is is a problem is a very troubling trend in fandom. Nobody is saying you can't ship it, do what you want. But this idea that these people are 'oppressed' because fans of the show/book continue to point out the facts about the way the story was written and how the relationship is actually presented is fucking insane. Someone saying that D*rklina is abusive is not calling you out, they are stating a fact. It's the story as it was presented. You trying to say it's not makes it look like you have no reading comprehension. And this idea that 'well i'll be on the lookout for evil shadow wizards in real life lol' is such horse shit too. His shadow wizard powers aren't the issue. He is a powerful man who grooms and abuses young women. You're telling me you lived through the Me Too movement and you wanna act like thats not a real threat that young women face every day? You're telling me that you can't see that the actual real life connection you're supposed to be making here? Okay, well you should maybe deal with that and come back to me, because that's an issue.

Fiction is meant to teach us lessons. Darkles is meant to teach us something. He is meant to show us that sometimes, powerful men lie to, manipulate, groom, and abuse young women, and we should be aware of that. The story is about a young woman who is sucked into an abusive situation, and then she breaks free and in the end she is able to defeat her abuser. That is a really powerful story, and one that millions of real life women can relate too. To pretend that that story doesn't have real life connections makes you look insensitive and frankly, kind of cruel.

So basically, in the end, my biggest issue is that D*rklina shippers love to spout this nonsense about 'knowing' it's bad and that he's a villain, and 'that's why they like him', and then turn around and try to say that he's not actually the villain, he's not actually bad, and the things he does to Alina that are abuse are actually romantic and sweet. You wanna ship an abusive ship, you do you, but lets not pretend it's anything other than what it is, but romanticizing and normalizing abuse tactics so you can feel, what? morally superior? Cool? edgy and different? That has real life impacts. You are normalizing abuse. Real people will engage with that rhetoric, and it will make it difficult for them to see abuse when it happens to them or the people around them because they believe its romantic or normal to be treated that way.

You wanna be a villain stan? You wanna ship dark ships? Good on ya, but fucking own your shit, y'all.

#anti darklina #the darkling #shadow and bone

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saturnsummer · 3 years

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baby, be with me so happily

based off that video that drove me nuts and that photo. anyways, a small excerpt i guess that i might want to include in a future bokseul fic? hm... still brewing...

enjoy as always, grammar and other mistakes by me!

summary: after bokgi witnesses something, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees it again in person.

word count: 3181 words

excerpt title: protect.

trigger warning: abuse, slight mention of blood, minor cursing.

"Yah, Bokgi! Are you listening?" Yebeom nudged his friend as Bokgi stirred his metal tray of rice.

“What?" Bokgi raises his head, to find his friends staring in concern. Bokgi, confused, leans back as he spoons another mouthful of rice into his mouth. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he chewed anyway. He knew if he didn’t eat, he would end up dozing off in class. And it didn’t help that he was already blacklisted for talking back to the teachers often.

"You okay? You seem pretty distracted." The older Sol asks. Bokgi shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with his noona. But he knows that amongst the six of them, he’s the worst liar. Setting his utensils down, he leans forward and darts his eyes and head around. The group gets his cue as they lean down to the table further, huddling together.

"You know Jeon Yeseul-ssi?" Bokgi asked. Yebeom cocked his eyebrow.

"What, the eye candy in my batch?" The younger Sol turns her head, staring in a cold piercing stare and swats his arm. Jiho clicks his tongue as Joon Hwi sighs.

"Yeah, she's the new transfer right? Just got in about a week ago?" Joon Hwi asks, ignoring the mutters of complaints from Yebeom.

"What's up? You like her?" The older Sol asks, a hopeful grin on her face. Bokgi swears his face flushed red, but this wasn't the time. He needed to be truthful on what he saw.

"I saw her this morning arguing with an older guy today. Some college dude. He looks kind of familiar, I just can’t remember.” Bokgi admits uncertainty in his voice as he chews on a piece of meat.

"It might just be her boyfriend, and they got into a fight." Jiho quips.

"It didn't look like it. The way he shouted and the way she shrunk back was...different. I can't put my finger on it, but it felt weird." Bokgi sighs. "Maybe I'm thinking too much about it."

The group is mostly silent as they finish their meals. Bokgi, still deep in his thoughts, can't shake the image from this morning. The way Yeseul's eyes were so full of fear and hurt when she looked up at the older guy, the way when her eyes met Bokgi's that screamed helplessness, but she only gave a small smile when Bokgi asked if she was okay. Most of the time, Bokgi would have blushed as usual whenever he caught her eyes, but that moment, he felt uncertainty and sadness.

"Bokgi, she has club activities with me today. I'll ask her about it carefully. Maybe ask if she has a boyfriend or whatever first. After all, she did create quite a buzz when she arrived." Sol says. Bokgi hides a blush and darts his eyes away to anywhere but his friends. God, Sol-noona is never gonna let me get away with my embarrassment.

"Thanks, noona."

"Oh, wait. Sejun from class 5 just sent me some gossip." Yebeom said, scrolling on his phone. "He says that some girls have asked Yeseul and confirmed she has a boyfriend. Her boyfriend is popular politician's son, Ko Yeongchang."

"Ah! The guy that went viral for all his videos online and good looks?" Joon Hwi asks as Bokgi researches his name and confirms it when a bunch of his photos pop up over his browser. Yes, this was the man that Bokgi saw with Yeseul this morning. But why does he feel like he knows Yeongchang from somewhere else too?

“We’re going to be late. Let’s go.” Jiho says, picking up his tray and the rest follow suit as they head out to clear it. They split to their respective classes, agreeing to meet after school at the entrance.

Bokgi shoves his hands in his blazer pockets as he walks back to his classroom, taking his seat at the back. He slumps his head on the table, replaying the way that Yeseul shrunk back when Yeongchang raised his voice. The way that Yeseul formed a shaky smile when Bokgi came over to ask if she was okay, and she only nodded. How he noticed the small bruise on her arm, hidden by her blazer, but said no word.

There was something more, and Bokgi was ready to find out.

-----

Yeseul sits on the toilet seat cover of the school’s bathroom as she takes off her blazer and rolls the sleeve of her blouse up. She sighs looking at the bruise that is slightly red, a hint of purple just underneath. She's glad for the blazer now, as much as she hates the rough material and the ugly colour. At least it hides away the bruises blossoming on her arms under the white shirt.

Taking an ointment from her pouch, she dabs carefully, rubbing in with care and bites her lips from hissing when it's too painful. Yeseul sighs when she rolls back her sleeves and runs a hand through her long locks. When she shuts her eyes, she can only replay the way Yeongchang's hand digging into her arm over her fresh bruise from the day before, and her foolish mistake for angering him more when she forced her arm away and shouted back. She knew better than to shout back, especially when they were in front of her school in the early morning.

"I should have never said anything about school..." Yeseul mumbles to herself as she puts her blazer back on. She opens the cubicle door, sighting a few female students reapplying their lip tints and she forces a friendly smile before heading to the last sink to wash her hands. The girls give an equally excited smile back before they rush out in hushed whispers. She catches a girl whispering about how Yeseul looks so elegant, like a sculpture brought to life.

If only they knew, Yeseul thought, as she dried her hands and stared at her lifeless eyes. She fixes a smile on her face before walking out of the washroom. Once she was out, she noticed the back of a familiar curly haired student from afar walking along the hallway alone, hands in his blazer. When he turns to walk into the classroom, Yeseul's eyes soften as she's reminded of what happened just a few hours ago.

Bokgi was someone Yeseul always noticed, even though she had been in school for just a week. She would find him hiding behind a wall and he would run away or just smile in a silly fashion before making a lame excuse to run off, no, sprint away. Yeseul also noted how Bokgi's voice could be heard from the other end of the hallway, arguing with his teacher on the reasons on why he strongly agrees with the point of having all citizens exercise their own right to express their views. Shortly after, when she ended class, he was sitting outside on the floor sulking, kicked out from class. Yeseul stifled a laugh, because for some reason, his sulking made him seem like a cute five year old that didn't manage to convince his parents that he wanted that piece of candy.

When he approached him this morning, his tie loose around his collar and asked in a soft voice if she was okay, Yeseul had wanted to say that it wasn't. Yeseul wanted to admit to him that the bruises on her arms hurt, that she was boiling with anger. But she held her tongue back. No, she wasn't angry, Yeongchang was just going through a phase and his emotions got the best of himself. No, her bruises didn't hurt. Yeongchang doesn't mean any of it, he never means to hurt her.

Yeseul takes a deep breath in as she walks back to her classroom and takes her seat. She flips through the photos she's taken with Yeongchang. A mirror selfie with his arms around her waist in his room. Them in matching outfits sharing a sweet kiss. Her in a body hugging satin ruched dress and him in a suit as they celebrated Valentines. She smiles at the sweet memories, remembering his loving touch and sweet words.

No, she doesn't regret being with Yeongchang. He doesn't mean it.

No, she loves Yeongchang, and he loves her.

Yeseul is okay.

Yeseul is not a victim.

-----

Bokgi unwraps the hand wraps around his knuckles as he pants heavily. Leaning against the locker door, he picks up his phone and replays the video. Screening through, he sighs as he notices the break in his form when he punches the punching bag and how unsteady his footwork is. He needs more practice, if he wants to improve from where he is now.

He wipes the sweat off his forehead, thankful for the hair tie that the older Sol lent him to tie his hair back for training. He grabs a fresh change of clothes before heading to the shower room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and taking a quick shower, erasing all traces of sweat. His boxing training ends the earliest, but he takes the longest to shower with the mount of curled locks he has.

When he's changed into comfortable, clean clothes, he dries his curled locks as best as he can, but he still doesn't know how to not make it look so wet. He wishes the younger Sol was here to help him with his hair, but she's probably still in debate, arguing with Jiho. (Silently, Bokgi prays that they are on the same team so that he wouldn't have to witness another cold war between the two.)

Muttering his curses, he throws the towel in his duffel and picks up his school bag and heads out the gym after waving goodbye to his coaches and club mates. He goes to the vending machine, purchasing a carton of banana milk and sits by the steps of the school's entrance, sipping on his drink.

From the corner, he notices Yeseul walking from the side and Bokgi does his best to not choke on his milk. He scrambles from the steps and runs away to the corner, behind a wall, peeking over to see Yeseul with a small smile as she walks with a few students. But her smile drops when they bump into a familiar man, hands in the pocket of his jeans, a smug smirk on his face.

Ko Yeongchang was back.

The students next to her gaped, for the first time seeing this ulzzang in person. Bokgi can't make out their words, but Yeongchang throws his head back, mouth wide open and eyes crinkled. From the way the students are looking, Bokgi suspects that he must have told them Yeseul is his girlfriend. Yeseul's face plasters a shy smile, but her eyes speak otherwise. Her eyes bore uncertainty, the same way that Bokgi remembers from this morning.

Yeongchang's arm slipped around Yeseul's back, his hand grabbing onto her arm. For a split second, Yeseul's eyes flashed pain, but it was quickly covered with her usual sparkle and light as she gave a light laugh. Bokgi's stomach churned. Something was obviously wrong, and it was enough to make him feel almost slightly nauseous.

The other students giggled as they walked away, waving to Yeseul as they scurried back to school. As soon as they were out of sight, Yeseul rips her way out of Yeongchang's arms and takes a step back, her hand instinctively going up to grab her other arm. It was enough for Bokgi to infer what was probably going on. Bokgi's anger bubbled inside as he felt the puzzle pieces falling together.

"This bastard..." Bokgi cursed through his gritted teeth. It didn't take a genius to know that Yeseul was being abused by Yeongchang. The way that she shrunk back when his hand reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear this morning. The way her eyes darted when Yeongchang held her arm in a tight fashion.

Yeseul shouts something inaudible to Yeongchang, and they exchange a few shouts. Yeseul is turning around to leave when Yeongchang grabs her bag and spins her around, hand gripping her wrist. She forcefully pulls away, but Yeongchang grabs her arm. The moment he raises his hand up is when Bokgi crushes his carton of milk and shouts. No, he can't see this. Not again.

"Yah! What do you think you are doing?" He shouts in a voice so loud and full of anger, he can't recognise it as his own. He storms over, sticky sugary milk dripping between his left hand as he clutches his carton. He reaches and Yeseul is almost surprised to see him. If Yeseul wasn't there, Bokgi would have said nothing and pummel him back.

"Bokgi-ssi..." Yeseul whispered, almost in surprise.

"Noona, are you okay?" Bokgi turns to ask Yeseul.

"Noona? What, does he know you? When did you know other guys?" Yeongchang asked, voice raised and slightly aggressive.

"That's none of your business. And what were you about to do? Hit her?" Bokgi spat back in anger. His eyes burned with fury as he challenged the taller man.

"Why are you meddling in our business? She's my girlfriend, I get to do what I want." Yeongchang scoffs back, hand grabbing back to Yeseul's arm as he pulls. This time, Yeseul is caught off guard as she hisses in pain.

"Stop!" Bokgi shouts in fury before pulling Yeongchang's hand away. Swiftly, he pushes Yeseul's hand away from the both of them.

"Why are you so concerned? What, you like her?" Yeongchang's eyes are dark and challenging as he stares down at Bokgi.

"Noona doesn't deserve to be treated by a bastard like you." Bokgi seethes with gritted teeth as his fists are balled tightly.

"What? What did you say?" Yeongchang's face contorts to one of so much fury, as he grabs onto the collar of Bokgi's shirt.

"You heard me, bastard."

And that was all it took for Yeongchang's fist to come flying across his face, knocking him to the concrete ground. Bokgi shook his head to centre himself, a hand reaching up to his face knowing a bruise will form.

"Bokgi-ssi!" Yeseul shouts in concern as she bends down, trying to help Bokgi up. But Bokgi only shrugs her concerns off.

"You know, for someone that beats people, you're kinda weak." Bokgi says, a taunting smile on his face. Yeongchang's face grows in even more fury as Bokgi stands up, dusting the dirt of his clothes.

"You—" Another punch comes, but Bokgi has enough playing victim, and he dodges the blow effortlessly. Yeongchang tries throwing an uppercut, but Bokgi is quick to block his arm and land one across his jaw. He doesn't hit hard enough for a bruise, but hard enough to hurt. Yeongchang stumbles back, almost surprised at the power of this high school rebel, but Bokgi stands tall.

Another punch comes, but Bokgi is faster to land one before Yeongchang could land his. Bokgi manages to catch Yeongchang off guard as he turns his arm backwards and pins it against his back. With every tug, Yeongchang is cursing in pain.

"One more word from you and I'll sprain your wrist. Or should I maybe crack your ribs?" Bokgi threatens. "You sick freak, beating up your girlfriend? And you have so many people looking up to you as an influencer?"

"Let go of me!" Yeongchang shouts in anger.

"You know, we have security cameras here, right? And they clearly saw you this morning and just now, raising your hand. They also caught you punching me first." Bokgi brings his lips closer to his ears. "How will that look, hm? A politician's son, on the news of beating his girlfriend?"

Yeongchang is lost, but still squirming. Bokgi slides his foot between his legs, letting him fall to the ground on his knees as Bokgi holds him in a kneeling position. From the corner of his eye, he spots Yeseul with the older Sol rubbing her back and Joon Hwi next to her with the rest of his friends.

"What-What do you want?"

"Promise you won't ever, ever touch noona like that again. If I find out on my own that she's hurt by you..." Bokgi tightens his grip on his wrist as Yeongchang grunts in pain. "Your wrist isn't the only thing that is going to be broken."

Bokgi finally lets go and steps away from Yeongchang, Joon Hwi joining Bokgi by his side.

"Get out. Now." Joon Hwi sternly barks as Yeongchang, still seething with anger, dust the dirt from his pants. He sets his eyes on Bokgi as he stares straight into the brown orbs.

"You...watch out. You'll pay." He says before turning on his heels and walking away, hands running in his hair with frustration. The group joins from behind, as Sol and Yeseul walk over to join. All of sudden, it occurred to Bokgi that Yeseul had to watch this, and he wished a deep pit swallowed him alive in that instant.

"Ah, Yeseul-noona... I'm sorry you had to watch that... I...I'm sorry." Bokgi mutters his apologies. Yeseul shakes her head slowly.

"Thank you for standing up for me. I'm sorry you had to get hurt." Yeseul says softly as Bokgi brings a hand up to his face. It's sore, and he finally tastes the slightest bit of metallic blood from the burst corner of his lips.

"Ah? This is nothing. I have it a lot worse in training." Bokgi shrugs it off. The older Sol hits him on the head lightly as Bokgi yelps.

"A lot worse in training? Do you want us to kill you before you get beaten to pulp? Take care of yourself, Min Bokgi!" Sol scolds. Yebeom passes him a wet wipe to wipe his sticky hand from the banana milk.

"You should get ice on the bruise." Yeseul says as she digs into her pockets for a small container and takes Bokgi's calloused hands before pressing it in.

"It's some ointment for bruises that I, you know..." She trails off. The older Sol just carefully places an arm around her.

"Are you going to break up with him?" Jiho asks, his head nodding in the direction of where Yeongchang left. Yeseul stayed silent as her lost eyes darted, her hand sweeping her hair away. Bokgi doesn't know where he gained the courage from, but he gently places a hand on her shoulder, careful to just let it rest.

"I'll protect you, okay?"

Yeseul looks into Bokgi's soft eyes as Bokgi gives a small smile. Even with a red bruised jaw, a burst lip, this man could still smile at her like an innocent child. Yeseul just nods, drawing a small smile out of her, as she suddenly feels a faith arise in her.

Bokgi might not have been able to protect her from the bruises then. But he will protect her heart and from the bruises now. Even if it means being beaten down countless times, he would protect her, each time.

She was worth protecting, even if she didn't feel the same.

#law school #law school kdrama #jtbc law school #law school netflix #law school jtbc #kdrama #jtbc drama #jtbc #min bok gi #jeon yeseul #bokseul #go youn jung #lee kang ji #fluff #original by akinosakiya

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

Text

I started typing this in the tags of this post, and it got too long, and then I was going to just reblog the post with this as an addition but that got too long too, and I've been meaning to make a post addressing free will vs. predestination since the premiere anyway, so - here we go. Spoilers, obviously.

Cut for length and spoilers. Please blacklist #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, and #loki spoilers.

This is kinda rough and I'm not sure it actually makes any sense but I'm posting it anyway.

I realize that the post is a joke, obviously (and it is hilarious) but I started thinking about the implications and couldn't stop because it's honestly a goldmine of existential reflection and an inevitable crisis or three.

Let's look at a scenario.

Say you're late to work for reasons totally beyond your control: your neighbor stopped you to ask a question on your way out the door; you swung through the drive-thru for a quick coffee but the person in front of you is ordering a full continental breakfast ffs (this happened to me this morning); there was an explosion and then the Winter Soldier randomly dropped from the sky and landed on the hood of your car. Whatever. Shit happens.

So you're late, but on this particular day, your lateness somehow has consequences that lead to and create a nexus event and the next thing you know, you're being arrested, tried, convicted of time crimes and ultimately (a version of you is) erased from existence.

And this is if it's not even your fault you're late.

Now say that you're late and it is your fault. You took a new route on a whim and drove a little more slowly because you passed a particularly pretty meadow; you hit the brakes at a yellow light instead of speeding through bc you wanted the quick chance to check your email; you sat in your car for a few extra minutes in the parking lot, because maybe your job sucks and you really needed those extra minutes today to psyche yourself up into getting out of the car and going inside and clocking in.

These little choices are you exercising your free will. Because to me, free will is all or nothing - it doesn't just apply to the big decisions.

On the other hand, predestination means that regardless of the choices you make or if it's a big decision or not, everything you do is ultimately going to lead you to a set point or position or place (your destiny).

And I can kind of look at it like a GPS - that is, there are a number of "insignificant" choices you could make and they will still lead you to where you're predestined to go. Like how a GPS will reconfigure your route if you miss your exit on the highway. It doesn't matter if you took Route A or Route B, you're still going to end up at your destination.

But say sometimes the route does matter. Say that there are certain scenarios in which there's only one road (for example, 14 million losses vs 1 win) and you can only get on it by following a specific series of events and what determines the ultimate outcome is whether or not you're late to work that day.

If you decide to wait those extra five minutes in the parking lot, that means that you weren't in your cubicle at 9:03 when Stanley from Accounting wandered by with his giant stack of papers, and when Mary Sue said hello to him, he got distracted and tried to wave and ended up dropping those papers. Had you been at your cubicle, you'd have swooped down to help him but since you weren't there, Stanley is crouched on the floor alone and doesn't notice Joe coming at him with a paper trolley so when he stands up, he and Joe collide and Stanley loses his balance and goes face-first toward the trolley and breaks his nose when he hits the metal handle on his way down.

Now Stanley has to go to the hospital to get his nose set because you wanted to sit in your car and spend five extra minutes hating your life that morning.

If the sacred timeline says that Stanley is supposed to be in that ER at that specific time on that specific day, and no other set of circumstances would get him there, because this will ultimately take Stanley down the road to whatever greater journey he's supposed to go on, then it has to happen. But say you exercise your free will and decide not to wait those five minutes, because the free will applies to every choice you make, even the tiny, insignificant ones. You chose to put on your big person pants and took a deep breath and just head inside - and because you chose to do that and because you were at your cubicle to help Stanley with his papers, Stanley never ends up in the ER and the timeline that's supposed to happen is suddenly at risk and the TVA has to get involved (I assume).

So having free will introduces way, way too many variables into a fixed timeline to ever keep track, because you're taking these tiny, seemingly insignificant choices that people are making every minute of every day, and you're multiplying them by trillions of sentient beings in the universe, and you're saying the fate of the timeline and reality itself depends on all of these beings either always making the choice they're supposed to make or constantly sending the TVA out whenever they don't.

It's fair to conclude, then, that both free will and a fixed, single timeline can't exist at the same time. Either you adhere to the fixed timeline and everyone does exactly what they're supposed to do every second of every minute of existence, or you have free will and autonomy over all of your decisions, no matter how big or small, and those decisions can result in a number of outcomes, ultimately leading you to one of several possible destinations.

Case in point: Tony didn't have to snap his fingers in Endgame. He chose to. Had he not, Thanos would have won. It doesn't matter if there was one way to victory or 14 million ways to failure; the timeline could ultimately only go one of two ways and the choice Tony willingly made determined that Thanos lost. It wasn't predetermined because if Tony had not chosen to snap his fingers, the timeline would have gone the other way.

My personal belief - and this isn't necessarily for the MCU, but in general - is that we do possess free will and the future is ever shifting and changing because nothing is written in stone. It holds up against most, if not all, of the world's belief systems. For example, if you believe that people have guardian angels, the rule is generally that your guardian angels can help you but you have to ask them; they can't decide to intervene without your permission because to do so would infringe upon your free will.

Similarly, you can go on etsy and pay $5 for a funsies psychic reading or pay a lot more money for an in-depth, specific tarot reading and both will tell you that the outcomes may change depending on the paths you take, and that their ultimate advice is for you to keep your focus on your goals and your own self so that you can be subconsciously manifesting the best possible future for yourself. (Not that I know this from experience. It was one time. It was a few times. My point stands, and also stop judging me.)

To get back to the MCU, though - if you determine that both a single, fixed timeline and free will can't simultaneously exist, and your ultimate purpose is upholding said timeline and not letting anyone fuck it up, lest it break off into lots of different branches, then it poses a pretty serious moral and/or ethical question of - who decides what choices we make and what paths we're destined for? The time lizards? Who gave them that authority? Did anyone, or did they just manifest themselves into existence one day, create the universe, and then decide all of the rules (and, if so, where does that leave the norns and the gods and other super powerful beings who are generally thought to be in charge of things)?

If free will doesn't exist and everyone is acting based on what has been predetermined for them by some higher being (or, in this case, time lizards), it takes away our autonomy, and if everything we do and every single tiny step we take is decided for us, what makes us any different than cogs in a machine just following orders? What separates us from robots?

Speaking of robots, it's interesting to me that the TVA's screening process (if you can call it that) has a failsafe against robots specifically. Any robot that might come through is destroyed immediately and in this case, “not a robot” is defined, more or less, as a sentient being that possesses a soul. What does the TVA have against robots if their ultimate goal is ensuring that the robotic machinations of the time lizards are consistently carried out to protect the sacred timeline?

A soul makes you human; the energy of the soul is what you, at the core, are. It can be assumed that having a soul also means that you have some sort of moral and ethical code by which you live your life but, if you don't also have free will, then what is the point of possessing a soul and a moral and ethical code?

Loki is a villain and he's told by Mobius, the TVA, Odin, and pretty much everyone who ever meets him that the only thing he's good for - the only reason he exists - is to cause pain and suffering and death. This has been predetermined for him; this is not his fault and he did not choose it. And every single choice he makes has either already been destined as the choice he was supposed to make, or will be pruned so it won't grow into the wrong timeline. Ultimately Loki can change neither his final destination, nor the purpose and meaning of his existence.

Which leads me to the theory that the several Loki variants that the TVA keeps coming across are the result of Loki consistently resisting against his predetermined path; he's trying to find the timeline where he is able to latch onto and keep his own free will in defiance of the timekeepers but, so far, he hasn't been successful. This could segue into why the current Variant is now going scorched earth and just obliterating the main timeline completely - because if there is no sacred timeline, there's nothing dictating who or what Loki can be, and free will is regained. If there's a multiverse that branches and branches beyond anyone's control, then there must be a branch in there, somewhere, where Loki can exist on his own terms and decide how his own story goes.

This also might be a theory for why Loki is already setting his sights on taking over the TVA (assuming that's not just something he told the variant for reasons). But my original point in delving into all this is to ask: if Loki is predestined to always be a villain whose story plays out exactly the same way because that's what's supposed to happen, then how can anyone ever hold his misdeeds against him? He's literally just existing as the timekeepers decided he would exist and everyone is blaming him for it.

And this leads me to ask, as well, if one's soul is generally good, and one possesses more good traits than bad, what is the logic in making them exist only for pain and destruction? If it's for a greater good, then it stands to reason Loki is not the only one predestined for misery, and what greater good could come from all that suffering?

Conclusion: the existence of the TVA as an organization means that there is one fixed, sacred timeline but the existence of said timeline is immoral and unethical because it means no one actually has any free will at all in the MCU. The very notion of heroes and villains is pointless because it has nothing to do with your own qualities or morality, it's literally the luck of the draw. In order to have free will, the sacred timeline has to be destroyed, and so my prediction is that the Big Bad of the Loki series is not the TVA and not the time keepers but the actual timeline itself, and the entire fate of the MCU rests on whether or not Loki can ultimately succeed.

Also, don't be late for work.

#well this was a journey #smfh #i hope it at least makes *some* sense #loki series meta #loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #long post #i should have revised this before posting lmao #i went back and edited some of it but meh #it's pretty nonsensical i think but also i confuse myself really easily so

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seriphimlm · 3 years

Text

Binary Stars

Summary: Castiel possesses Dean.

(Yeah, I’m writing SPN fan fiction now. Mind ya business.)

Binary star system: Noun. Astronomy. A system of two stars in which one star revolves around the other or both revolve round a common center. Locked in the constant chase of hunter and hunted, the two stars spend their lifespans circling around the other’s orbit, never able to touch, always just out of reach.

---

It started, much like everything else complicated in the lives of Dean and Castiel, with a hunt gone wrong.

Read on AO3

The sunlight was filtering through the dingy hotel room’s curtains as Rowena examined Castiel with a series of powders, juices, and soft-spoken Latin chants. Dean watched as he leaned against the wall, subtly texting Sam an update on their hunt. Dean and Castiel had been trying to take out a witch just west of Lincoln when she blew a shimmering powder into Castiel’s face. He had spent the following few minutes coughing up a lung while Dean shot the witch between the eyebrows. Unsure what to do, they called Rowena when they returned to the hotel room. She was leaning over Castiel as he sat on the side of one of the beds.

“It’s bad.” Rowena finally said, her eyes flicking between Dean and Castiel. “You boys tussled with the wrong witch.”

Dean sighed and kicked off the wall he was leaning on. “Awesome.”

“What did she do to me?” Castiel’s eyes calmly tracked Dean for a moment before they flicked to meet Rowena’s gaze.

“You mean you can’t tell?” Rowena raised her eyebrows and looked away. “That’s not a good sign.”

“Cut the crap, Rowena,” Dean growled. “Can you fix it?”

Rowena sighed. “Aye, the spell’s not built for fixing.”

“Remind me why you’re here, then?” Dean took a half-step towards Rowena.

“Dean,” Castiel said, stopping him in his tracks with just a word. He turned back to Rowena. “Explain. Please.”

“Well,” Rowena paused as she thought. She pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. “It was a homemade spell designed to erase an angel’s grace. It starts slow, which must be why you can’t feel it yet. It will continue to get faster and faster as time goes on.”

Dean threw his hands up. “Awesome.”

“You said that already,” Castiel grumbled.

The two men shared tense eye contact for a few charged moments.

“You haven’t seen any hex bags today, correct?” Rowena asked, causing them both to look back at her.

Castiel stood up and moved his eyes around the room before ending on Rowena. “I would be able to sense if there were any present.”

Rowena nodded and hummed her approval. “And the witch who cast the spell is now dead?”

“Yes,” Dean said, stepping forward. “I made sure of that.”

“Lovely,” she said, making it clear that she thought that it was anything but. “She must have been a powerful one then, if the spell is surviving past her.”

Castiel grimaced. “What can we do?”

“Do?” Rowena began to gather her supplies back into her large purse. “There isn’t much that can be done, I’m afraid.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel beat him to the punch. “But there is something.”

Rowena sighed. “You’re not going to like it.”

Dean and Castiel both leveled Rowena with steady stares. She closed her eyes to center herself before speaking again, opening them to look at Castiel.

“You’re going to need to leave your vessel,” she finally said.

Her statement hung in the air for a few moments before anyone else spoke, heavy in the crisp air-conditioned room. Castiel hardly reacted except to blink, but Dean was visibly agitated.

“No way.” Dean shook his head.

Rowena laughed drily. “Have you got a better idea, then?”

“Dean,” Castiel cut in, nipping their cat fight in the bud. “I’ve been without a vessel before.”

“So, what?” Dean turned his attention to Castiel. “You’re just gonna find some other holy trench coat to possess?”

Castiel turned his head slightly to look at Dean directly.

“Not necessarily,” Rowena interrupted. “The spell is only affecting Castiel’s physical form. If he were to” —she struggled to find the word for a moment— “exit, the spell would run its course and eventually fizzle out. I don’t see why he couldn’t return after that.”

“And how long’s that gonna take?” Dean asked.

Rowena made a noncommittal sound as she examined Castiel lightly with her eyes. “Oh, a few days to be safe. These things move faster when the mind isn’t present.”

“So what, right before he starts to rot away?”

Castiel lowered his chin slightly and looked at Dean. “My vessel, Dean. It’s not me.”

Rowena held up a finger and rooted through her purse as the men had an impromptu staring contest. After a moment, she pulled out a small hex bag. It fit snugly in the palm of her hand. She loosened the string tying it together slightly to create an opening.

“This will help keep your vessel in working shape while you’re away,” she said, presenting the hex bag to Castiel. “I just need a drop of dear Mr. Novak’s blood.”

As Dean was rustling through his pockets to pass Castiel his knife, Castiel just bit the tip of his index finger with his front teeth. He held the finger over the bag as the blood welled up and finally dripped down. When the droplet of blood hit the bag, a barely-visible puff of blue smoke was created. Castiel ran his thumb over his index finger, healing the small nip.

“Perfect,” Rowena said as she retied the string, nonplussed by Castiel’s behavior. She passed the completed hex bag to Castiel. “This will keep the lights on while you’re not home. Keep it in one of your pockets until you return.”

Castiel nodded and put the hex bag in the inside pocket of his trench coat.

Rowena continued, “I suggest that you leave your vessel before you go to bed. There hasn’t been any damage done that you won’t recover from, but that won’t be the case when you wake up tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Sometime before whatever it is you do at night, then.”

The group eventually made their way through saying farewells and Rowena left, leaving Dean and Castiel alone. Dean was tense. It was hard for him to think of Castiel’s body as just an empty husk to be filled.

“Dean,” Castiel said, breaking the silence that fell when Rowena left. “This is a manageable problem. There is no need to worry.”

Dean scoffed. “What, me worry?” He sighed and grabbed his keys from where they were sitting on the nightstand. “Let’s get back to the bunker before you do anything crazy.”

Castiel nodded and followed Dean outside of the hotel room.

The two men continued in silence as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot. Castiel had come to appreciate silence in his time on Earth, but this particular moment rang with unsaid words. He knew that Dean would voice what he needed to say before too long. This time, he only had to wait for three-and-a-half Metallica songs.

“So.” Dean said, finally breaking the silence. “You’re leaving your vessel.”

“Yes.” Castiel straightened his back and watched the dotted yellow lines disappear beneath them.

Dean snuck a peek at Castiel. He nervously bit the inside of his cheek. No one spoke for another few moments.

“Well, are you gonna ask me or not?”

Castiel replied casually, “Ask you what?”

“To be your new vessel.” Dean snuck another peek in Castiel’s direction, taking time to rake his eyes across his face. “If I can handle Michael, then I can handle you. Right?”

“Dean. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

Dean reached over to turn the music down. “Humor me.”

Castiel gave an angel’s impression of an eye roll. “Dean Winchester, are you willing to give your body and mind over to my cause?”

“Yes,” Dean said. His response was immediate. He looked over at Castiel, lips not fully closed.

“You can’t mean that.” Castiel didn’t seem to be impressed.

“It’s better than spending a week as a holy cloud of gas and you know it.”

Castiel moved his gaze in Dean’s direction, not quite looking directly at him yet. He couldn’t disagree. “Your history with Michael—”

“You’re not Michael.” Dean shook his head lightly, turning back to the road. “Come on, Cas. If everyone was the same as their older brothers, Sam would be blacklisted from about twenty more bars than he already is.”

Castiel didn’t seem to be persuaded. He looked anywhere except Dean’s face.

“Dean. I do not wish to cross any boundaries here.” He finally raised his gaze to meet Dean’s. “You understand that saying yes will give me unfettered access to your body and soul.”

“Look at me. I get it.” Dean quirked his lips humorlessly into a smirk. “I’ve been a hunter my whole life, I know what possession is.” He paused and sighed, tearing his eyes from the road to look at Castiel, speaking clearly. “I trust you. I’m saying yes.”

Castiel still didn’t look convinced. Dean sighed.

Dean let out a humorless laugh as he rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel nervously. “Listen, man,” he said, his voice an olive branch. “I could learn how to say it in Enochian if English ain’t enough.”

Castiel finally met his gaze again. “I can remain unobstructive while we share a vessel.”

“I’ve already said yes, no need to keep selling,” Dean said, then hesitated. “So long as I get to stay behind the wheel.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel leaned imperceptibly closer to him. “I would never strip you of your autonomy.”

Dean nodded. “Good.” He paused, then echoed, “Good.” He looked back to the road.

---

The bunker door slammed loud enough to ring through the halls. Dean gave a holler to Sam anyway, in case he didn’t hear him and Castiel come in.

Sam walked into the room from the direction of his bedroom. “What the hell, Dean?” he said. “You can’t just text me, ‘Cas got witched. Be back before midnight.’ and then not respond.”

“Aren’t you the one who gets on me about texting and driving?” Dean smirked at Sam. “Just being a safe driver. ‘Sides, you could have used Cas’ phone. We got him one for a reason.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shifted his focus to Castiel. “I tried calling Cas, but it went straight to voicemail.”

“My phone stopped working a while ago.” Castiel pulled it out of his pocket. “It no longer turns on.”

Dean grabbed the phone from Castiel and examined it, testing the power button a few times. “When’s the last time you plugged it in?”

“Plugged it into what?”

Dean dropped his hands and looked at Castiel. “The wall, Cas.” He looked over at Sam pleadingly. Sam chuckled.

“You have to charge it for a few hours every day or two,” Sam said. “I’ll put a charger in your room later.”

Castiel took his phone back from Dean. “I see. I will be more mindful of that in the future.”

Dean walked down the stairs into the main room area, Castiel following closely behind.

“I’m going to grab a beer, want one?” Dean called over his shoulder as he headed towards the kitchen.

Sam sat at the table. “Sure.”

“You’re getting one too, Cas,” Dean said, not waiting for a response from him.

Castiel nodded and sat across from Sam as Dean left the room.

“I’m beginning to appreciate the taste of beer,” he said to Sam. “The creation process behind it is very compelling.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Sam chuckled airly. “So, what happened with the witch? You look totally normal to me.”

“I’m glad I look normal.” Castiel sighed. “The spell is one that targets my grace, so humans are unable to see what the witch has done.”

Sam frowned. “Are you okay?”

“The damage so far is minimal.” Castiel shrugged. “I hardly noticed until Rowena brought it up. She said that the rate at which the spell devours my grace would increase unless I left my vessel.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “And you’re gonna do that? Leave your vessel, I mean.”

“I have no other choice,” Castiel said. “But my vessel will survive without me until the spell runs its course.” Anticipating Sam’s question, he added, “I’ll be able to return to this vessel in a few day’s time.”

“Huh.” Sam leaned back in his chair for a moment. “So will you just” —he waved his hand through the air nervously— “float around all day?”

“No, I—”

Castiel was cut off by Dean re-entering the room, holding three beers. “Brewski time!” he called, waggling the beers with one hand. He put a beer in front of Sam and Castiel, then took one of the open seats at the table and took a swig from his own bottle.

“Dean, Cas was just telling me about what happened,” Sam said. He looked back over to Castiel. “Sorry, I’d offer to help, but I have a… history with angels using me as a vessel.” He gave an awkward half-smile.

“I understand,” Castiel said, returning a small smile in Sam’s direction.

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout a thing, Sammy.” Dean took another sip of his beer. For some reason, he felt nervous to tell Sam. He pushed it down. “Cas is gonna stay with me.”

Sam smirked and looked down at his beer bottle. “And you’re cool with that?”

“What? Lucifer didn’t wear me to the prom.”

“Dude.” Sam looked up to lazily glare at Dean.

Dean was sufficiently cowed. “What, too soon?”

“Yeah, too soon.” Sam rolled his eyes and laughed under his breath. “Forever would be too soon.”

“I’m going to leave my vessel before morning,” Castiel noted, gracefully changing the subject. “Would you like to be in the room while it happens?”

Dean stiffened imperceptibly.

“I’m sure you two can handle it,” Sam said, taking a sip from his beer. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

“Well,” Dean said, setting his beer on the table and moving to get out of his chair. “What do you say, Cas? No time like the present?”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together. He looked up at Dean and then back down at his beer. “I’d like to finish this first. It’s pleasant to drink with you two.”

“Come on, Dean.” Sam laughed and lifted his beer in Dean’s direction. “Waste not, want not.”

Dean chuckled to cover his blooming blush. He relaxed back into his chair. “I’m just glad we corrupted an angel.”

---

Dean and Castiel ended up in one of the extra bedrooms, one which Dean liked to call Castiel’s room. Castiel hardly used it. He was sitting on top of the unwrinkled bed covers while Dean was pacing, trying to tamper his anxiety.

“So, this possession thing.” Dean looked over carefully to Castiel. “Does it hurt?”

Castiel’s eyes tracked Dean’s movements. “What do you mean?”

“The whole...” Dean waved a hand around as he thought of how to word it. “Smoke-in-the-mouth thing. I mean, I smoked my fair share as a teen, but I’m no iron lung.”

The drug reference gave Castiel pause. “The process shouldn’t be painful. It may feel uncomfortable at times as your body attunes to housing a celestial being. You may experience sensations that the human body is not equipped to feel.”

“Lucky me,” Dean said breathlessly.

Castiel nodded. “Lucky you.”

Castiel swung his legs on top of his bed, shoes and all. He leaned against the headboard in a sitting position. Dean bit his tongue when he worried about the dirt tracking onto the sheets.

“How would you like me?” Castiel asked once he settled.

Dean tripped on his tongue for a moment. “Like you?”

“My vessel,” Castiel clarified. “How would you like it to be positioned while I’m away?”

A breath escaped Dean’s lungs. Castiel had to know what he was doing when he said things like that.

“However you want, bud.” Dean flexed his jaw and swallowed. “It’s up to you, I won’t be coming in here until the spell times out.”

Castiel hummed and scooted forward so that he had the space to lie down completely, but he propped himself up on his elbows to keep Dean in his eyesight. He was lying on his back with his trenchcoat puddled around him like an aura.

“Are you sure you’re willing to do this, Dean?”

Dean walked over to the side of Castiel’s bed. “My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked.”

“I’m serious.” Castiel’s voice compelled Dean to look him in the eyes. “I would not think any less of you for changing your mind in the eleventh hour.”

“You’re my friend, Cas.” Dean’s hand reached out to pat him on the shoulder before he realized that it was too far away to reach. For lack of a better location, he patted Castiel’s thigh where it was resting on the bed. “Friends help each other out.”

Castiel furrowed his brows as he watched Dean’s hand touch his thigh. Dean moved his hand back to its neutral position once he noticed Castiel looking. He felt a blush begin to heat his face without understanding why.

“Besides,” Dean started, trying to distract from the building burning in his cheeks. “It’s a win-win. You get a vacation in Casa Winchester and I get to go a few days without seeing your ugly mug.”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together even more. “You think I’m ugly?”

“Of course not,” Dean backtracked immediately. “I’m sure you’re, y’know, good looking. For a guy.” Dean would have to change the subject if he didn’t want Castiel to notice his blushing cheeks. “It’s just something people say.”

Dean wouldn’t know where to put Castiel on the traditional 1-10 scale of hotness. He lived on a different scale entirely.

“I see.” Castiel relaxed his arms and allowed his gaze to trail up to the ceiling. “I never understood human beauty standards. I have a hard time evaluating my vessel.”

Great, Dean thought as he put a few feet of distance between him and the bed. I gave the angel a complex.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, man.” Dean tried to backtrack. “Chicks dig the whole dorky, just rolled out of bed look.”

Castiel hummed idly and then lifted himself to look Dean in the eye again. “Are you ready to be possessed?”

Dean had long since gotten used to Castiel’s abrupt non sequiturs.

“Should I sit down?” Dean moved towards an empty chair a few feet away from the bed.

“That would be smart.”

Dean carried the chair to the side of the bed and sat in it. It was strange to see Castiel laying down. The only other times that Dean had seen him in this position, he was bloodied from a fight. Castiel moved his arms to lie down completely, turning his head on the pillow to look at Dean.

“Dean Winchester, will you let me in?”

“Castiel,” Dean breathed. He shivered in anticipation. “Yes.”

It wasn’t like the demon possessions he had seen, where the victim screamed as the demon’s black cloud rushed into their mouth. Castiel closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. A small, wavering tendril of bright smoke seeped out of his mouth. This was Castiel, more so than anything related to Jimmy Novak’s body. Dean’s adrenaline spiked as the tendril began to close the distance between them. It meandered through the air of Castiel’s bedroom like lazy cascading waves on a shoreline. Dean’s mouth opened and he tilted his chin towards the smoke without being aware he was doing so.

The tendril of Castiel finally reached Dean’s lips. For a moment, it felt like he had used TV static as chapstick. The static feeling filled Dean’s throat. It spread over his head and spilled down his chest as more of Castiel flowed through him. It felt like the borders of his body were being erased, like he was expanding to fill the bedroom. His head was floaty and blurry, as if he was back to being seventeen and smoking Js with other nomads outside of run-down hotels.

It was as if he had a whole new sense awakened in him. How could you explain sight to someone who was born blind? He felt his thoughts being pushed to the side to make space in his head for another entity. His body went blank for a moment before he scrambled to gain control. The feeling, which had to be Castiel, let him gather it up from the corners of his awareness. His limbs were left feeling like they fell asleep. He compressed Castiel to right at the base of his neck, behind his collarbones. He felt raw energy thrumming in the back of his mind.

Dean opened his eyes. He hadn’t been aware that he closed them. Sam was banging on the other side of the door. They must have been making noise, even if he didn’t realize it. He stumbled up from his chair and almost instantly banged his shin against the bed frame.

“Shit!” Dean yelped. The lightbulbs in the room popped in a sharp shatter of glass. He flinched at the noise.

Sam yelled from behind the door, “Dean?”

“Yeah, give me a second!” Dean responded, traversing through the bedroom in the relative darkness. His adrenaline was still pumping, leaving him feeling tight and thready. He finally made it to the door and opened it for Sam.

Sam looked different. It looked like someone had taken a long exposure photograph of him while he was moving. There was a glow to his body that made it look like he was radioactive. It made Dean feel like he was burning. He screwed his eyes shut.

“Dean, are you okay?”

“Cas.” A growl came out of Dean’s throat and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Whatever it is you’re doing, man, you need to pull up. This is too much.”

“Dean?”

Dean felt the fizzy numbness of his body recede even further. His body felt almost normal. His eyes opened hesitantly.

“...Cas?” Sam asked, going out on a limb.

“Still me,” Dean said, shaking his head. He could finally look at Sam directly without feeling like his face was melting. He sighed.

“Are you okay? Your eyes were...” Sam peeked around Dean to see Castiel’s empty vessel laying on the bed. “Is he…?”

Dean tapped the side of his head. “All up here. We’re good.”

Dean stepped aside so that Sam could enter the room. Sam flicked the lightswitch a few times but the room stayed dark. He looked at Dean accusingly.

“What can I say? I got my go-go juice.”

Sam rolled his eyes and used his phone flashlight to examine the body of Jimmy Novak. Dean followed him and lingered by the bed.

“He’s still breathing,” Sam said. He hesitated before adding, “Do you think he needs…”

Dean curled his upper lip. “Depends?”

Sam and Dean both stared blankly at Jimmy’s empty body.

“I’m not opening that can of worms,” Dean finally said. He patted Sam’s shoulder as he moved past him to leave the room. “I’m starving.”

Dean stumbled as he walked down the hallway. He was in the kitchen for just long enough to grab bread, peanut butter, and jelly by the time Sam entered the room.

“Do you feel any different?” Sam asked hesitantly, lingering by the doorway.

Dean nodded while spreading peanut butter on a piece of bread. “I feel like I ran a freakin’ marathon.” He ran his thumb on the side of the knife to gather the remaining peanut butter and stuck it in his mouth. “I’m gonna eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, eat another, down a beer, and then crash for the night.”

Sam smiled and huffed air out his nose. That was the Dean he knew. “Is Cas talking to you?”

Dean looked up to tell Sam no, but jolted when he wasn’t standing by the doorway anymore. He looked around the room and flinched again when he realized Sam was a few feet to his side.

“Son of a bitch, when did Cas teach you to teleport?”

Sam looked confused for a second before realization dawned on him. “Cas took over for a few minutes. He told me that everything is going according to plan. It will take a few hours for you to get ‘attuned’ enough to communicate. Whatever that means.”

“Damnit Cas, I told you to let me stay behind the wheel.” Dean said with very little heat behind his words.

“He said that would be the only time.” Sam motioned to the counter where Dean was making his sandwich earlier. “He apologized.”

Instead of the half-made peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Dean was making, there was now a plate of two completed sandwiches (cut into triangles) and an opened bottle of one of Dean’s favorite beers, fresh from the fridge. Dean’s stomach growled.

Dean picked up the plate of food and the beer. “He’s forgiven. This time.”

---

Dean woke up and headed to the bathroom on autopilot, his bladder sending alarm bells to his brain. He went through the motions as usual, yawning and scratching his tummy as he relieved himself. When he looked down to make sure that the tank was empty, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. His eyebrows pulled together and he touched his cheeks with a free hand. There was no reason why he should be blushing as he takes a whizz. He would have to do some googling later. He filed the feeling away in his mind, and the embarrassment passed as he put himself away and moved to the sink to wash his hands.

Dean jolted when he saw his reflection move without him in the mirror. He furrowed his brows and looked pointedly down at the faucet.

“Am I hallucinating?” he asked the empty bathroom.

His own voice answered him. “If Sam were to walk in right now, he would see you talking to yourself.” Dean’s eyes flicked back up to the mirror. His reflection’s voice was grittier than normal, as if he ate a bowl of gravel for breakfast. “But you are not hallucinating. This is one way I can communicate with you.”

Dean laughed dryly and shook his head, looking away again. “This is weird, man. I feel like Jamie Lee Curtis.”

He had almost forgotten what had happened the night before in his post-hunt adrenaline crash. The reflection, which must be Castiel, had better posture than he’d ever had in his life. It looked like he’d gained an inch in height.

“I can remain completely dormant if you’d prefer.” Castiel kept Dean’s body still as he spoke, save for the slight tilt of his head. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Seeing someone using his meatsuit would normally make his hand itch for a silver blade, but something about this felt different.

Dean shook his head slightly. “No big deal. Anything else I should know about beside this whole” —he waved his hand half-heartedly at the mirror— “Mulan thing?”

“I am passively aware of the sensory input you receive,” Castiel said, lowering his eyes. “But I am able to focus my attention elsewhere when you require privacy.”

Dean felt the tips of his ears begin to burn as he remembered what he had just been doing. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So what, you’ve been busy reading my thoughts?”

Dean’s reflection tilted his head and lowered his eyebrows slightly. Seeing Castiel’s mannerisms on his body made his hands twitch. He had to stop himself from touching the mirror. To shatter it or caress it, he didn’t know.

“The mind of a shared vessel is difficult to describe in terms you can understand,” Cas shared after a pregnant pause. “There is no branch of human studies that can be used as an accurate reference.”

“You’re an angel,” Dean said, flexing his fingers. “I’m sure you can dumb it down for me.”

Castiel took a moment before speaking, no doubt firing a trillion of his and Dean’s currently shared synapses. “We share subconscious minds in this state, but our conscious minds remain our own. Instincts and emotions are shared before coherent thought.”

Something clicked in Dean’s mind. “Wait, was that…” Dean bit his tongue. He hesitated before speaking again, pointedly not looking Castiel in the face. “Were you embarrassed earlier?”

Dean’s reflection avoided eye contact. “I understand that humans are very protective of their genitalia. I apologize. I did not intend to—”

Dean cut him off. “Okay, we’re not going to talk about genitalia. New rule.” Dean worked furiously to think of a way to change the subject. Finally, “Why don’t I feel any different?”

Castiel looked thankful for the prompt. “Human senses aren’t accustomed to celestial intent. You felt that when I first entered your body. It will slowly become more comprehensible as we continue sharing the same vessel.”

Dean barked out a short laugh to distract from thinking about it too much. “Thanks for the fine print. Anything I should be on the lookout for?”

“Nothing major.” Dean kept expecting to see Castiel’s blue eyes when their gazes linked. Something about making eye contact with himself felt weird. “You were created to house the most powerful archangel in heaven, so there’s no chance of unintentional damage to your body on my behalf.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, bud.” Dean raised his eyebrows at his reflection. “You can be scrappy.”

Seeing his reflection give a small, easy smile was something that Dean hadn’t seen in a while.

After a small pause, Dean swallowed and cleared his throat, speaking carefully. “Listen, can you—”

As if reading his thoughts, Dean’s reflection changed to Jimmy Novak, trenchcoat and all.

“Is this better?” Castiel asked, back to his normal appearance.

Dean’s lips quirked up. It was nice to hear his voice again. “Yeah.” His mouth was a little dry. He tried again. “Yeah, Cas. That’s better.”

Castiel smiled at him before dissolving into Dean’s reflection. Dean lifted his hand and rubbed his face, watching his reflection follow his movements exactly. Everything was back to normal. He nodded at the empty mirror and turned on his heel to start his day.

---

After a cup of coffee for breakfast, Dean started to become aware of how dirty he was. He never actually had the chance to take a shower after the fight with the witch. Thankfully, she was staying in a classy apartment rather than a cabin in the woods, but still. He probably smelled like an entire gym locker room. He put it off for as long as he could, not knowing how to bring it up to Castiel. He almost made it to noon by reading lore in a storage room before Sam leaned over him to see what the book said and scrunched his nose.

“Dude, come on. You stink so bad,” Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes and stood up from where he was sitting. He gave Sam a shit-eating grin. “I smell like a bed of roses.”

“Sure, maybe one that a dog just peed in.” Sam chuckled under his breath. “Maybe you can ask Cas to zap you clean.”

“I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way.” Dean scooted around Sam and made his way to exit the room. “Kids these days, always looking for the easy way out.”

“Dude, I’m 32!” Sam yelled after him as he entered the hallway.

Dean chuckled at his own humor as he walked to his bedroom to grab a fresh set of clothes. Once he realized that he needed a shower, everything felt uncomfortable. It would be nice to get under the bunker’s perfect water pressure again.

He spent a longer time than normal picking out clothes, still putting off having to deal with Castiel possessing him while he showers. Finally, he entered the bathroom he claimed as his own. There was just enough space for the basics: toilet, shower, sink, counter, mirrored medicine cabinet.

He stood in front of the mirror awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to broach the subject.

“Cas?” He said to the empty room.

The mirror didn’t change. Dean wondered if maybe he imagined the entire possession. He clicked his tongue and turned away from the mirror, but jolted when he saw Castiel standing next to him.

“Holy shit!”

“No,” Castiel answered. He tilted his head at Dean. “It’s me.”

Dean shook his head in shock. “How are you here?”

“I’m not, physically speaking.” Castiel lifted his arms to show off his form. “I’m a visual representation constructed by your mind.” He looked down at himself. “I’m surprised. It normally takes months for seraphim to harmonize with their vessel’s brainwaves enough to present themselves without the aid of a reflection like this.”

“Look at you go.” Dean checked the mirror quickly. Castiel had no reflection.

Castiel seemed to realize where he was for the first time. “Are you about to take a shower?”

Dean nodded.

“I assume you wish to have privacy,” Castiel said.

Dean felt his cheeks heat up. “Please.”

“I will put my attention elsewhere.”

“How?”

Castiel thought for a moment. “If you’re willing to try, you may be able to create an illusion of something for me to distract myself with.”

Dean hummed an affirmation. He tried to think of something that Castiel would like. He closed his eyes shut and imagined Castiel holding it.

After a few moments, he heard Castiel say, “The Bible?”

Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel holding a copy of the Bible. It was small and leather bound, with the title embossed in gold. It looked like an exact copy of the one that his dad used to keep in the trunk of the Impala.

“Yeah, the Bible. You’re an angel, aren’t you?”

Castiel flipped through the pages. He smiled. “Have you ever read the Bible, Dean?”

“Uh, no. I never got around to it, surprisingly.”

Castiel turned the book around so that Dean could see the pages. They were all blank. “Your brain didn’t know what words to add. Try something that you know.”

Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes, picturing what he wanted Castiel to have in his mind’s eye.

He opened his eyes to see Castiel examining it in his hands. “What is this?”

“My old walkman,” Dean said.

It was beat up, with countless chips in the plastic. The wire to the headphones had a kink or two in it, but Dean knew that it would still work. It was loaded with an AC/DC track that Dean stole from the Impala’s glove box when he was 17.

“This is before I turned it into an EMF detector.” Dean wanted to reach for it, but hesitated. His hands would probably pass right through it. “It’s nice to see it again.”

Castiel looked at it fondly. “How do I use it?”

“Here, put these over your ears.” Dean grabbed the headphones on instinct. They felt solid in his hands. The feeling stopped him in his tracks. “I can touch this?”

“It’s all in your brain, Dean.” Castiel set the walkman body on the bathroom counter and took the headphones from Dean. Dean felt the soft brush of his fingers as he did. “The same brain that is letting you see and hear illusions can let you feel them too.”

Dean licked his lips. “Okay. Awesome. I can handle this.”

Despite feeling anxiety grow in his gut, Dean felt calmness attempting to wash over him. He looked at Castiel.

“Pretend I’m here physically,” Castiel said, not mentioning the jedi mind tricks he was no-doubt pulling. “Show me how to use the walkman.”

What’s the big deal, Dean? Dean thought to himself. Never taught an illusion of an angel how to use a walkman in your bathroom before?

Dean forced himself to take a full breath. “Okay. Okay.” He shook his head slightly to shake off his anxiety. “Put the headphones on.”

Castiel did. He picked up the walkman from where he set it on the counter. “What button should I press?”

“It should be all rewinded and everything. Just press the play button.” After a moment, Dean added, “It’s the triangle.”

Castiel nodded and pressed it. He looked at Dean with a smile. “It’s working!” he said, a bit louder than normal.

Dean gave him an awkward thumbs up. “Just close your eyes and listen for a few minutes.”

Castiel gave him a thumbs up back. “I’ll just… um…” He looked around for a place to be while Dean undressed. He pulled the headphones off for a second. “Where should I go?”

Dean suddenly realized that the bathroom didn’t have much room for privacy. He looked around for a moment before lowering the lid of the toilet.

He pointed at the now-covered toilet. “Sit here. Turn the volume up.” “Okay.” Castiel sat. He put the headphones back on and fiddled with the buttons. He closed his eyes. “I’ll be here.”

Dean just looked at Castiel for a few seconds. This was so weird. He trusted that Castiel wouldn’t try to spy on him, but he was still sitting less than a foot away. He hesitantly took his shirt off. Castiel didn’t react. Socks were next. Pants followed soon after.

He was standing in front of Castiel in his underwear.

Right, he needed to turn the water on first. He had to awkwardly bend around Castiel’s knees to reach the faucet handle, but thankfully Castiel ignored the movement. He could almost feel the warmth of Castiel’s imaginary body heat on his torso. He adamantly ignored it, for Little Dean’s sake.

The water was running. Moment of truth. Dean took a deep breath and pulled his briefs off. He didn’t dare to look at Castiel in this state. He had to bite back a hysterical laugh from the absurdity of it all.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it. The thought ran circles around his mind. He’s in your head, don’t think about it. He can feel what you feel, don’t think about it.

Dean hopped in the shower. He gave a sigh of relief when he finally pulled the curtain back, blocking Castiel from his line of sight. He could pretend like it was any other day. The water hit him like rain.

He sang Shoot to Thrill under his breath as he washed himself clean.

---

Thank God that Dean’s tastebuds were still working. If he started tasting molecules instead of flavors, he would have to kick Castiel out. He piled his plate up high with the chicken alfredo that he spent the past few hours cooking. Sam had already served himself a plate of the pasta before Dean added the chicken and was sitting at the kitchen table, reading something on his laptop with one hand while he ate with the other. Dean grabbed some silverware and sat down across from him.

Without thinking, Dean wove his fingers together on his lap and lowered his head. He sat in relative silence, mouthing something inaudible under his breath.

“Dean, what are you doing?”

Suddenly, Dean snapped back into reality. He unclasped his hands and moved them from his lap to above the table. He quickly picked up his silverware and started to spike pasta with his fork. “I’m eating dinner, Sammy.”

“No.” Sam laughed. “No, before that. Were you… saying grace?”

Dean felt a blush begin to rise in his cheeks and pointedly ignored Sam’s gaze. “That must have been Cas.”

“Or Jimmy.”

“What?”

Sam slid his laptop to the side so that he could look at Dean directly. “I’ve been doing some reading about angel vessels. There isn’t much out there, but we know that angels leave behind a trace of grace in the vessels they occupy.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, having completely forgotten about that part.

Sam took a bite of pasta and chewed quickly to continue speaking. “What if the opposite is also true? Cas has been inside Jimmy for years now. He could have picked up on some of his habits.”

“Dude,” Dean said. “Never say that again.”

Sam paused for a second, then rolled his eyes when he understood. “I’m just saying, Dean. This is uncharted territory. Who knows how angels and vessels affect each other? The Men of Letters’ research on them is all theoretical.”

“I’m not going to church anytime soon, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Dean paused. “Are you asking to research me?”

“No. Well, it would be helpful since you’re already here.” Sam looked up at Dean hopefully but shook his head when he saw the look on Dean’s face. “But no. Definitely not.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam changed the subject. “Good job on dinner, by the way. Thanks for making it.”

“Nesting has its perks.” Dean gave Sam a smile with cheeks filled with pasta.

---

The nighttime was when it felt truly bizarre. Dean had to lay in bed and try to fall asleep, knowing that Castiel was just a sharp inhale away. He had been tossing and turning for almost an hour. Angels didn’t sleep, so Castiel must have been just watching this all happen. He couldn’t fall asleep if he thought about it.

“Cas?” he finally voiced into the empty room.

Castiel appeared, sitting on the side of Dean’s bed. He turned his head to look down at him. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean sighed and relaxed into the pillow. “This is weird.”

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked. Dean barked out a laugh on instinct.

“Me? Peachy.” Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position. “How’s Hotel Dean? Do I need to call housekeeping?”

Castiel looked out into the darkness, giving Dean a view of his side profile. “You’re the strongest vessel known to man. I am… exceedingly comfortable.”

“Good. That’s… good.” Dean felt embarrassment in his gut from the compliment, unsure if it was his own or Castiel’s. “You aren’t bored?”

Castiel returned his focus to Dean. “I do not find being this close to you boring.”

Dean forgot what he was going to say. His mouth was suddenly dry. He licked his lips and broke eye contact. He could still feel the weight of Castiel’s gaze.

“Um, what’ll happen when I fall asleep?” Dean had to clear his throat to get his words out clearly.

“Nothing unusual. I will remain dormant.”

“Would it wake me up if you took over?”

Castiel furrowed his brows. Finally, he answered, “No. It would be less invasive than sleepwalking.”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t take over while I’m getting my few hours,” Dean said carefully, looking back at Castiel. “If I can’t tell the difference.”

“Dean…” Dean could already tell from his tone that Castiel was going to decline the offer.

He adjusted his position on the bed. “Come on, man. You’ve gotta take what I’m giving to you. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes for a few seconds before responding. “I understand.”

“Just don’t do anything weird.” Dean relaxed back into laying down on the bed. “Take care of my body.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel looked away before blinking out of existence.

Dean didn’t have trouble falling asleep after that.

---

Sam was walking to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning when he heard sound coming from Dean’s lounge (which Sam refused to call The Dean Cave, no matter how many times Dean threatened to cut his hair off). He changed course to investigate, his socked feet making soft pat-pats in the morning silence. The door was slightly ajar, so he pushed through to see the TV on and Dean sitting on the couch. Sam could have sworn that he recognized the show, from some article or meme that he saw online. Finally it clicked.

“Is that… Riverdale?” Sam asked incredulously.

Movement came from the couch. “Don’t be too loud, you’ll wake up Dean.”

Sam was caught off guard for a second before he put the pieces together in his mind. This would take some getting used to.

“That’s creepy,” Sam said, pointing at Dean’s body. “So, I’m talking to Cas now?”

“Yes.” Castiel turned his attention back to the show. “Claire recommended this show to me. She said that I would find it funny. I’m not sure I understand the joke.”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone does.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Does Dean know you’re making his eyes watch this?”

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, opening them to meet Sam’s gaze. “He is currently dreaming about being in a high school musical theatre program. I assume that on some level, he is processing the show alongside me.”

“Um…” Sam floundered for words for a moment, suddenly struck by the strangeness of the situation. “Do you want any coffee? I’m starting a pot.”

“I don’t.” Castiel paused. “But bring a cup anyways. Dean’s about to wake up.”

Sam walked back to the kitchen, muttering, “So creepy…” under his breath.

---

Maybe Dean shouldn’t have been so adamant about taking a case while Castiel and him were shacking up.

Side note, Dean thought as he struggled to breathe. Find out whether shacking up is only about having sex.

It was easy to feel regret now, as he was being held against the back of a gravestone psychically by his neck. But hey, pobody’s nerfect. Maybe it was Sam’s fault for agreeing to come with him.

The case was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn for a ghost that had been spotted a few times in a Topeka graveyard. Just a quick day trip. Everything was going according to plan until… Well, Dean’s neck hurt. Thankfully, they had dug up the grave before the ghost showed up. Double thankfully, the ghost’s attention was entirely on Dean.

He couldn’t help but smile a little as Sam dropped the lit pack of matches on the ghost’s salty and gasoline-drenched bones. Said smile turned into frightened eye contact with Sam when the ghost didn��t disappear.

“Dean, something else’s keeping it here!”

“Y’think?” Dean gritted out his words through clenched teeth. He made a snap decision. “Cas, take the wheel!”

What Sam saw was Dean breaking out of the ghost’s psychic hold, thrusting his hand through its chest, and the ghost burning away from the inside out.

What Dean saw was different.

He felt brisk air as it hit his exposed forearms, cooler than the warm summer night he had just been in. He opened his eyes to see himself standing in the middle of the countryside in front of a barn. A familiar barn.

The wind picked up as Dean walked closer to the barn’s doors. The roof started to stutter and creak. The doors began to shake.

He knew this barn.

He reached his hand out for the door handle, but the doors opened in a burst of sparks and splintering wood before he could even touch it. The inside of the barn was revealed.

There were sigils and graffiti painted all over the walls. He knew those sigils. He painted them with Bobby.

He could make out someone walking over to him from the shadows.

“Are you gonna stab me with a knife?” Dean asked, holding his arms out.

Castiel continued to walk closer to Dean. “I apologize for the abrupt change in scenery. This is the first location I could think of to take you.”

“This is fine, Cas.” Dean huffed out a laugh, still coming down from an adrenaline high from the hunt. “This is just fine.”

Castiel smiled contentedly.

Dean suddenly remembered what situation he had just escaped from. “Wait a minute, if you’re here, who’s handling my body?”

“Still me,” Castiel said, somewhat smugly. “I’m able to multitask.”

“So what’re we doing right now?” Dean couldn’t help but circle around Castiel slightly, echoing his footsteps from years ago.

Castiel noticed his repetition and watched him idly. “Sam and I are refilling the grave. Would you like to take back over?”

“Nah, I’ll let you handle the heavy lifting.” Dean finally planted himself by the table of various weapons and leaned against it. “How does it feel?”

Castiel tilted his head at Dean. “I don’t experience physical exhaustion like you do. It doesn’t feel like anything.”

“No, not the digging.” Dean’s thumb rubbed against the rough wood of the table. He lowered his gaze slightly, too embarrassed to say it while looking at Castiel. “Do I feel any different than Jimmy?”

Castiel tilted his chin up and inhaled as he thought. “You have a higher white blood cell count than Jimmy. Your cholesterol is higher than his as well.” He paused. “You also have more” —he squinted his eyes slightly as he decided on a word to use— “brightness to your vessel.”

“What, I’m blowing sunshine up your ass?”

“No,” Castiel responded, drawing his eyebrows together. “You’re the righteous man. You’re divine.”

He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. The sky was blue, two and two was four, and Dean Winchester was from the heavens.

Dean scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not divine, Cas. I’m just a guy.”

He heard cracks of lightning. Castiel was no longer looking at him, deciding to move his gaze to something behind him.

“Dean,” Castiel said, eyes twinkling in mirth. “Look behind you.”

Dean only had to turn his head slightly to see them.

There were wings growing out of his back. Big and black, exactly like the ones he saw on Castiel.

“No.” Dean shook his head. “This is all backwards.” He looked back at Castiel. “Am I dreaming?”

Castiel didn’t say anything, choosing instead to close the distance between Dean and him. For a second, Dean thought—

“Dude, you need to get a sleep apnea machine.” Sam laughed from where he was sitting behind the steering wheel. “You sound like an airplane.”

Dean tensed in his seat and checked his surroundings a few times to comfort himself. He was in the Impala with Sam.

“I was sleeping?” he asked.

Sam quickly glanced at him, keeping his attention on the road. “I don’t really know. Cas took over to kill the ghost and clean up, but then he just sat silently in the car. It was creepy.” Sam shrugged. “I just said something when you started to snore.”

“Gee, thanks.” Dean rubbed his hand over his face. It hadn’t felt like a dream. Castiel must have done his forehead-touch thing to send him back to the land of the living. “Remind me to stop crashing after hunts. I get the weirdest dreams.”

“Yeah, you love it when I tell you what to do.” Sam checked the mirrors dutifully. “How’s Cas?”

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. “Weren’t you the one who just talked to him?”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one he’s riding shotgun in.” Sam’s mouth quirked. “What’s that like?”

“It’s great.” Dean adjusted his position in the seat. “There, we talked about it. Can we stop by a store? I need to pick up some protein.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure thing.”

---

Dean was lying awake in his bed sometime between day two and day three when he finally asked it.

The words rang in the silence of the night. “What’s it like needing a vessel?”

In the blink of an eye, Castiel appeared. This time, he was lying in the bed next to Dean, under the covers in three layers of clothing. Dean felt underdressed in his pajama pants and old band shirt. The two men were lying on their sides and looking right at each other. Dean thought about telling him to give him some space, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t physically there.

Castiel was silent for long enough that Dean started to wonder if he was going to answer.

“It makes me feel demonic,” Castiel confessed. His eyes almost glowed in the dim light. “It should not be the will of heaven to ruin a life just to exist on the physical plane. Having to tear someone from their family, from their entire life. I admit, I feel some semblance of comfort knowing that Jimmy is in heaven.” He lowered his eyes in shame. “But Claire, Amelia. Even those in his life he wasn’t close to. Every human has such an intricate web of relationships and reasons to live. Using them as a vessel erases the beauty of humanity.”

Castiel paused. “Jimmy wasn’t my first vessel.”

Dean looked at him in silence, willing him to continue.

“She was a young woman. Carlotta Richards.” Dean thought he could feel the phantom puffs of Castiel’s exhales on his cheek. “She left her family as a teenager. They didn’t approve of her.” Castiel looked at Dean meaningfully. “She saw me as a blessing. She didn’t realize she was cursed from the moment she let me in.”

Dean’s mouth was dry. “What happened?”

“The mission I used her for ended and I returned to the celestial plane.” Castiel continued to avoid Dean’s eyes. “Her heaven is beautiful. She spends her time in an eternal Saturday sunset on a picnic with her soulmate.” Castiel finally looked at him. “Dorothy.”

Dean held his breath. He was transfixed, completely and utterly.

“What else?”

“You,” Castiel said in a low voice. “This body is no closer to what I look like than yours is. I’m not a man with dark hair and blue eyes. I’m not a man at all. Angels’ true forms are their most personal expressions of the self. You deserve to see it.” Castiel’s voice was soft, so soft. He was nearly whispering when he spoke again, his eyes burning into Dean’s. “I wish that you could see who I truly am.”

Both of them wondered, in that moment, if this would be when it happened. Neither moved.

Dean finally exhaled. “This is who you are.”

Dean blinked. Castiel was gone.

He didn’t sleep a wink.

---

It had been a few days.

Dean could tell that Sam knew it was time for Castiel to go back. Dean knew too. He was eating breakfast when the man himself made an appearance.

“It’s time for me to return to my rightful vessel,” Castiel said, sitting in the chair across from Dean that was empty a moment before.

Dean nodded and finished the last bite of his cereal. “You sure?”

“I’ll do an examination of the vessel before I return.” Castiel watched Dean wipe the milk off his lip. “But I believe so.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. He stood up and brought his bowl to the sink. “Let’s get you back home.”

Castiel disappeared after that, leaving Dean to walk to his room alone. He knocked on Sam’s door as he walked by it.

“Cas is going back to his vessel, you good?”

He heard a muffled, “Let me know how it goes!” from through the door and continued down the hall. Dean was vaguely grateful that Sam didn’t want to be in the room for it, but he didn’t care to examine why.

Castiel blinked into existence again when he opened the door to his room. Dean turned on the light (thanking Sam for replacing the lightbulbs) to see him staring at his prone body from where he was standing at the foot of the bed.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?”

Castiel hummed. “The spell seems to have run its course. It should be entirely safe for me to return to my vessel.”

“Good, good.” Dean went over to grab the chair he used before. “Sitting down again?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean pulled the chair up to the same position, mind only spinning a little bit from seeing two Castiels in the same room.

“So, what do I do?” Dean asked. “Just exhale really hard, or what?”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, standing behind him. “I will take care of it. Close your eyes.”

Dean did.

The reversal process was the same level of strange. It felt like someone was painlessly turning him inside-out. He could still feel the static over his lips as the white light trickled out of his mouth. He felt Castiel’s grace rubbing against the inside of his skin as it retreated up his body. Dean was glad he was sitting down, because his knees felt like they were made of Jell-O.

Castiel began to rise into a sitting position as he returned to Jimmy Novak’s body. Dean subconsciously trailed after the white smoke as it left his mouth, closing the distance between him and Castiel’s true vessel. They both inched closer to contact as the cloud that was Castiel transferred between them.

Dean wasn’t aware that he had been kissing Castiel until Castiel started kissing him back.

It was like touching the surface of the sun. Dean leaned into Castiel’s body for a moment before pulling away. He felt like he was burning.

“Woah, I—” Dean fought out a breath.

Castiel was a deer caught in headlights. He scrambled off the bed and started moving away.

Dean suddenly realized that he didn’t want him to go. He grabbed his forearm.

“Don’t leave,” Dean pleaded.

Dean didn’t let go of Castiel’s forearm. Castiel didn’t say anything. Dean kept not letting go.

“Dean.” Castiel’s body was tense, like a rubber band about to snap.

To Dean, It all made sense in that moment. Every hidden glance, choreographed touch, charged moment. Dean couldn’t imagine being content without him. He felt like a puzzle whose final piece had just clicked into place.

Dean took a deep breath. “Cas, you’re my only happy ending. It’s you.” It was a revelation. “And I want a happy ending. I want a happy ending so bad it hurts.” Dean moved his hands to grip his trench coat by the lapels. “I’ve fought for it. I’ve died for it. I need the sun to set, Cas. I need you to be by my side when it does.”

“Dean,” Cas said.

“So yes. Of course, yes.” Dean let go of Castiel’s now-crumpled trench coat, leaving his hands to slip and rest flat on Castiel’s chest. “Yes back then, yes today, yes tomorrow. Yes to you every day until I’m dead in the ground. Yes to every day after that.”

“Dean,” Cas prayed. He lifted a hand to cup Dean’s cheek.

Dean’s eyes threatened to fill with tears, but his eyebrows were set sternly in place. “Please, Cas. I won’t ask you twice. Stay.”

“Yes.”

Castiel was the one who closed the space between them. It was electricity in motion. Their kisses were clumsy, awkward, but neither of them would change a thing as they fell onto Castiel’s bed and the kisses began to deepen.

---

Dean would scratch the back of his neck as he stood next to Castiel, looking at Sam sitting at the table.

“Hiya, Sammy,” he would say, getting his attention. “Cas and I are... Well…”

Castiel would interrupt. “Your brother and I are having sex now. We don’t plan on stopping.”

Sam would be caught off guard for a moment, but he would smile and laugh kindly with them at the absurdity of it all.

“It’s about time,” he would finally say. “You two have been circling each other for a while now. It was either killing each other or…”

Dean would smile and say, “Falling in love.”

“Well.” Sam would laugh again. “I was gonna say making out. But that’s good too.”

Dean would feel embarrassed and lower his gaze to the floor for a moment. But Castiel would grab his hand, squeeze it, and everything would turn out alright.

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #rowena macleod #i'm queueing this up so when it's posted i'll literally be getting top surgery lmaooo #how queer #anyways writing fan fic is so fun y'all #i had a good time working on this one <3 #but i am not mentally capable of writing smut so <3 #i should probs come up with a writing tag for this blog huh #uhhh #j writes

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

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im still confused as to why the C*W thought they made good decisions? did they not expect the negative outpouring they got? did they think the most popular and well-known couple in modern pop culture would not be celebrated if it went canon and mourned if it did not. I just cannot make sense how they didn't see any of it coming. Cas' confession alone trended above an election, could have been absolutely amazing press for the network, would have made history frankly, if they'd allowed dean to reciprocate on air and yet they thought all that paled in comparison to a cowboy cop reboot in the wake of massive socio-political current events?

it's pretty simple: even though we cannot begin to wrap our heads around this, it's a fact that the majority of the viewers (general audience) were not destiel shippers (to put it mildly) and they were always afraid to scare off that part of the audience, which is why the market research went the way it went, and why the finale went the way it went. and that general audience? is the reason they made w*lker in the first place.

some more asks after the cut

honestly i am so bitter that fandoms are the ones who give the network the money, devotion and love that keeps shows on the air and get spat on, yet everything they do is for "the general public" who causally tune in for an ep or two, maybe finish the show but have no feelings about it either way. i know money makes the world go round but it's just so unfair that dedicated spn fans found so much heart in the show, saw so much of themselves in these characters for 15 years and were basically told they didn't matter all because of a straight conservative demographic that has not mattered to this show since season three.

agreed, but i think you underestimate the general audience and how many people watched the show who weren't actively shipping destiel. i saw a research about this once and it shocked me too but it definitely showed that a large part of the people watching are, in fact, the general audience. unfortunately.

A lot of the times I feel like the writers treat Cas like a punching bag: first he’s Heaven’s instrument who must do what he’s told, he rebels and then is blacklisted by the leaders, he tries to save his people from Raphael and the power corrupts him, which gets him dead but then he just loses his memory. He tries to redeem himself by helping Sam and goes insane and gets sent to Purgatory where is hunted, comes back and Naomi uses him as a puppet by effectively lobotomising him, he rebels and is back living in hiding. Metatron uses his grace to throw the angels from Heaven and he is public enemy #1 AGAIN, but now human and HOMELESS. His best friend kicks him out, he gets another army but dumps it all for one human who takes him for granted. But Cas CONTINUALLY puts his life on the line for Sam and Dean but he loses something else to show for it. Even when he gets his grace back, his wings are broken. And when he finally feels like part of the family, says “I love you” to the human he’s repeatedly sacrificed for, he’s erased from the narrative!?!?!

WTF? Can the poor multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent get a break?

*hugs Cas with tears in eyes*

- 🎓

im hugging him right there with you <3

its been so long and i am still infuriated by the finale. i wish the people who had the final say in all that shit would never be able to do anything in tv again if they think any of that slop was alright by any means. (actually i wish i could look them in the eye and call them out for the cowardly money-grubbing fucks they are.) i almost wish i had gotten a ticket for that bob singer panel just so i could blast him since im sure he had something to do with it somewhere. im already prepared to hear "we go where the story takes us," his favorite party line.

you and me both

#graduation cap anon #warning: the asks i answer are of the venting nature and focus on some negative things #jsyk before clicking the 'read more'#im not gonna be engaging with any new asks i get about this because i think we all agree that it sucks and we cant do anything about it #so that's that

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rattyarts · 3 years

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Huge-ask post (I am VERY funny)

Because I have so many questions that can be answered with just text, and I have mentioned my dislike of filling my art blog up with Words Words Words... let’s get them all done in one go!

(You guys can blacklist #rattytalks if you’re just here for the draws, btw)

A shit ton of asks under the cut!

Anonymous said: So for the center of the world, what with it being forcefully PG and all Bad Thoughts TM being prevented, how does having kids happen? Do parents just black out and wake up holding a child in their arms and vague memories of the last 9 months?

Ever seen a movie where they do that “and one day... a baby was born!” thing and a kid just appears offscreen with no explanation?

(This is how it works everywhere, Edgelands included; no one does the do or gets pregnant in this setting.)

Anonymous said: Hello! Quick question, and sorry if you’ve answered this before, but can other elves see the “intangible” bits of one another? Big fan of your work btw!

Nope! And thank you!

Anonymous said: Leopold was in my dream last night but I sadly cannot remember any of it.

I am SO sorry. I will try to keep my stinky murder men out of your head in the future.

Anonymous said: are the floaty bits stuck in one spot, or could the one they are attached to learn to move them around their body as long as its still within a certain distance? like, someone with the Floaty limbs, lets call him Ray, can move his limbs all over his body, allowing him to do all sorts of neat things that others with their attached limbs probably couldn't?

Whatever you want, honestly. As a general rule of thumb I don’t like putting down TOO many hard rules that prevent people from having fun with this setting. (Please ignore and scrap anything you think is stupid, I do this all the time and enjoy keeping this setting inconsistent and contradictory)

Anonymous said: Do elf names work off of Death Note rules, or is it like, if you know one elf’s name, all elves with that name are now unable to harm you? So if all the elf brothers are named Martin, for example, does it only work with blue?

I think it’s prolly just the one! Probably? Idk, might change if I think of something funnier.

Anonymous said: Can elves do magic on themselves or does thst go against the knowing name rule

Most people tend to know their own names, lol. So in my opinion, no, but don’t let me stop you if you got a fun idea.

Anonymous said: Could an Elf stitch on parts from another elf and have them work? i.e an Elf's finds the arm of another Elf. "Hey, free arm, might as well put it to good use", so they attach the arm and now they can give three high fives at once!

Same deal as previous questions, I personally would say no, but I also encourage people to do whatever the hell they want. It’s more fun that way!

Anonymous said: I bet elves are greasy to the touch.

They’re very powdery! Like if you rolled them in flour. And by flour I mean nasty glowing elf dandruff.

Anonymous said: Can elves fly or are their wings just for show?

No flying!!! (Unless you’re a mousefly)

Anonymous said: Something tells me that the elves would LOVE Obatzda.

Had to look that up, but definitely!

no1fan15: Not sure if someone asked already- Does Edgeworld have any equivalent to demons and angels? Like the old rubberhose cartoon kind?

Demons, yes! That’s what imps are: basically any demon, devil, or generic monster, but tiny! Even a couple of pop culture critters in there, there’s probably a very small gillman or robot monster running around there somewhere.

Angels, not so far.

Anonymous said: How come Margaret hasn't yeeted George's jar into the Edge yet

I’d say being locked in a closet is good enough! (and also I need him for plot reasons, don’t tell anyone)

Anonymous said: If elves have knees bulges in the front then do they have butt bulges in the back?

i do not want to think about elf bulges

Anonymous said: So if you find a baby Therewoof and you say "aw you're so cute", their true name is So Cute?

Yep!

Anonymous said: Since a Therewoof's true name can be something like "cutie pie" or "dingus", does their name have to be spoken with "intent" for it to doggo-fy them? Or do they just have to live with the reality that any casual conversation/flirting can make them lose up to a month to Doggy Mode? My mom has little terrier dog named "Sweetie" so that got me thinking 'bout Therewoof names. & Anonymous said: here's a good question: If someone says a therewoof's true name, but not reffering to them, does it still affect them?

Just saying it will do! It’s based on those old werewolf stories where calling out the person’s name will change them back into a human/cure them, and a lot of the time it was by accident.

(My favorite is the one where they slam the door on the wolf’s tail and then say his name, and the dude ends up with a wolf tail for the rest of his life.)

Anonymous said: Would Seeing eye Therewoofs be a thing?

I... guess? Probably? Since regular dogs can turn into woofs, yeah. You might have to start paying em once they turn into a person tho.

Anonymous said: Was ChalkZone ever an inspiration for you? Because I just love the silly world of ChalkZone and I noticed getting that same warm feeling when thinking about Edgeworld.

Maaaan, I wish. I’ve only seen about three episodes or so, but it seems really fun!

Anonymous said: So I saw your mimic post, and even though I don't think I've seen any other of your art before I was absolutely HAMMERED with an indescribable sense of slightly unsettling strangeness and comfortable familiarity. Your art feels like something from like, an old point and click computer game I would have had formative memories of before accidentally losing or scratching the disc therefore making me unsure if it ever REALLY existed. Sorry for being weird but I love the wacky nostalgia feel here

Aaaaaah, THANK YOU! That is SUCH a cool comparison and I appreciate!!!

Anonymous said: If the Edgeworld is based on cartoons then is there a Reverse Edge-world that’s based on anime?

Lol, I mean I DID have an anime phase for a while there, so...

caydebug: Man I’d love to see this as a cartoon some day

Honestly, same. Best you’re gonna get is the occasional animatic or gif, tho.

Anonymous said: Does anyone..."go" in Edgeworld? or is it like Pleasantville where bathrooms exist but there are no toilets in them because acknowledging it is yucky?

Oh god I keep getting asked this and have been avoiding it like the damn plague. But... Uh. No. No they do not. I am begging you all not to send any followup questions.

Anonymous said: Have you considered putting computer viruses or illnesses in with the buggymen? Since those are typically called ‘bugs’

Sure!

Anonymous said: are there any limits to what an Animimic could posess? i.e if they were in a costume of a Buggieman with multiple arms, could they control all of them? what about a small Mousefly costume? can multiple fit into one costume like a clown car? and what about in pitch black darkness, where you can only see the lights of their eyes and not their bodies? could one fit inside the pocket of a jacket you are wearing and help you steal things/wield a gun like a living turret?

Since clothing fills into the body type of the intended wearer, they would indeed be able to control all arms/legs in buggieman clothes.

Size restrictions is one of these things I wanna try to be vague about: I personally have been imagining them sticking to hiding in things no smaller than, um. Maybe imp sized, but really, whatever. It’s a cartoon eyeball critter!

You can put multiple animimics in one outfit!

They can move around just fine in darkness without being off screen, yeah!

And sure why not. lol

Anonymous said: I know you have been asked this once before, and you said nah you don't, but with a few more months of worldbuilding, do you have an idea for what could be down the edge now? 🤔

Not really! It’s not super important, honestly. I’d say any fan theory is about as valid as anything else I can come up with.

ps2polpo: I doubt you’ll ever elaborate on The Edge but I like to imagine there’s just one dude there like the Nowhere Man from the Yellow Submarine movie. Mostly cause the thought of someone accidentally winding up there being like “where am I?” And there’s just a guy casually waving at him like a friendly neighbor is funny to me & Anonymous said: The implication that the Edge is the physical manifestation of edginess so there’s probably like, Trevor Henderson monsters hanging out down there.

See above question! Valid! I also accept falling forever, getting erased from existence, ending up in another universe, getting stuck in limbo with thousands of other people, whatever you want, really!

Anonymous said: " he has very few bones and weighs basically nothing, " "Fastball special" trope, but with Leo?

YEET THE NASTY MAN

Anonymous said: did you ever watch dragon tales as a kid? because george and margaret make me think of murderous zak and wheezie from that show, and i love it to bits

I did not, but I would have loved it. Definitely up my alley!

(watched Quest for Camelot a loooot, though!)

Imma go ahead and stop here! There’s more but I’ve been writing for well over an hour and I have things to do. If your question is missing I’m either saving it for later, wasn’t entirely sure how to answer, or it’s spoilery.

Will probably do another one of these at some point!

#rattytalks #asks #edgeworld

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thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman · 4 years

Text

Dark Side Of The Rising Sun Part 1

Yo what’s up!

After the success of my previous post, I’ve decided to bring a follow up where I talk about the many dysfunctions and issues facing Japan that I’ve learned in my research. Detective Conan often shows the criminal justice system of Japan in a positive light while in reality it has many issues due to the culture.

Now let me make this clear: Japan has many great things about itself that should never be ignored. However, these are real flaws that have or need to be addressed with many Japanese also recognizing them as problems.

Now I had to split this into parts as this is rather ungainly to put it all at once. If you have any questions please ask and I’ll do my best to answer them.

Suicide

Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the world with about 15.2 deaths per 100,000 people.

This is due to many factors such as Suicide not being considered a sin as well as historical connotations of it being a honorable way to go.

It is also considered a act of revenge, apology, and protest.

It is mostly caused today by factors such as unemployment, alienation and intense social pressure.

Japanese society is overall tolerant of Suicide but this is changing in recent times.

Another factor is the need for acceptance over individuality.

People with mental illness are often discriminated against, stopping potential help.

Internet Suicide Clubs where anonymous people make/plan suicide pacts and commit group suicide are a major issue.

If you kill yourself via Shinkansen, your family will be fined heavily. It is also the cause of half of the train delays and referred to as a human incident.

Tall buildings have mandatory suicide fences to prevent people from jumping off. When they succeed, they take off their shoes before hand.

It is common for suicidal people to take insurance policies and wait a year or two to go through with it so their families would be okay.

Ikka Shinju or family suicides are when the entire family kills themselves together due to Asian views of the family. When the parents kill their children before themselves, this is called Muri-Shinju or murder suicides.

Oyaku Shinju or parent-child suicide are where a single parent kill their children along with themselves.

Drownings, overdoses, hangings, and jumping off places are the most common form of suicide.

Judiciary

Traditionally, the judge is hated more then the lawyer is in the west as the Judge is often viewed as a symbol of the Japanese nobility judging the common man.

If you are sent to trial, you are certain to be convicted regardless of innocence due to the countries 99% conviction rate. (Really makes Eri’s work more awesome and badass doesn’t it?)

The Japanese supreme court is one of the most conservative in the world, rarely ruling against issues that are blatantly unconstitutional and anti human rights. As a result, one of the more positive proposals for amendments of the Constitution is the creation of a separate Constitutional Court.

If you are sent to death row, you will never be told in advance when you are going to die.

Culturally, once arrested the person is automatically considered guilty.

Police are often reluctant to overturn convictions as they insist that only guilty are arrested and convicted.

The law when a child is considered criminally responsible is 14.

Judges are often pressured into making convictions as their careers are negatively affected by a not guilty verdict.

Prosecutors are given the choice not to pursue a case regardless of sufficient evidence.

Prisoners in Japan, while somewhat treated better then much of the world due to it’s focus on rehabilitation instead of punishment, have to follow strict military style regulations from minor things such as being forced to fold the bed, or to wash your face to more draconian measures such being beaten if you don’t march or sit the wrong way.

In turn, many have inadequate access to medical care as they don’t have many options for their healthcare.

It can take months or years before you are tried, meaning that a right to a speedy trial is completely nonexistent.

“Periods of reflection” where inmates are forced to be handcuffed, gagged and placed in solitary, are often not recorded by the warden.

Foreigners are forced to speak and write in Japanese.

Drug Use

It is considered vastly socially unacceptable to do narcotics in Japan.

Most drug addicts are even considered to be not human.

If a celebrity is caught doing drugs, his career is automatically fucked and he is blacklisted from the industry, as well as erased from current projects.

The most commonly sold drug is methamphetamine. This started after World War II due to Meth being legal for soldiers to consume in order to stay up late on petrol as well as from occupying Americans. After the was, it became a huge epidemic for 12 years.

Marijuana use has risen among youth. Despite it having little danger as well as medicinal uses, it is widely considered evil, with the law having no tolerance.

Overall, Japan has little drug use compared to the rest of the world due to the cultural taboo and strict laws. However, there are signs that it is being vastly under counted,

Most illicit drugs are imported from Taiwan and South Korea due to it being near impossible to grow it natively but it is becoming increasingly hard to do so.

Drugs overdoses are criminally under diagnosed.

Epidemics often occur due to low periods of economic growth and recessions. (Examples include the postwar period, the 70′s, and the Lost Decade after the Bubble Economy burst in 1989)

It is common for your family or doctor to call the police once you admit there is a problem. Then you are forced to take a urine sample and if it tests positive you are immediately arrested.

A lot of doctors open pharmacies to add to their income. As a result, many oversubscribe prescription drugs.

Hypocritically, Alcoholism is completely tolerated and not treated as a addiction due to alcohol being considering purifying in Shinto, a cure, and Japan having a intense drinking culture.

Child Abuse

For the most part, physical child abuse is considered a private issue and often ignored. While things are slowly getting better, Japan still has a long way to go. (Imagine if Kogoro did what he did to Conan in the west. Child services would be on him like a fly swatter.)

Child services often return the children to their parents even if they say their abusing them as the counseling centers need the parents to admit to their abuse.

It is a complete myth that Japan’s age of consent is 13. That is only the lowest one could set it. Most prefectures are set at 16 or higher. In turn, child molestation of those under 12 is heavily punished. However while vaginal rape of children is illegal, basically just about everything else as long as it’s statutory is basically alright.

Enjo Kosai or compensated dating is the practice of Teenage Girls to go on dates with older men in exchange for money and gifts. While not necessarily always leading to prostitution is treated as such and the girls are often blamed if they are hurt in the process.

Child sex trafficking of migrants is a serious issue and they are often treated as criminals and sent home without counseling.

Adoption of children is rare and frowned upon so many of them have to gro up in centers.

Children of unmarried couples are discriminated against due to the violation of the traditional Ie system and do not have the same protections or privileges of married couples because of its Koseki system.

Men are not obligated to pay child support and it’s near impossible to get them to legally as they can simply hide their finances by not telling them. Plus only one person can be named on the custody sheet.

Child Pornography was effectively decriminalized until 2014. No seriously.

Sexual Harassment/Assault

Domestic violence victims are disabused from coming forward due to the idea of bringing shame to their family.

Stalking cases are rarely taken seriously by the police

OH THERE”S WAY MORE BUT THIS LIST IS DARK ENOUGH SO LET”S SAVE THIS FOR A LATER DATE.

Working Conditions

Idols are heavily exploited and forced to follow strict rules such as having no social life, banned from having a boyfriend, etc. This is because they are supposed to sell a image of innocence and be there exclusively for their fans.

Anime creators are often forced to work long hours with little pay. This has resulted in a slump in the industry with very few new hires so they are forced to rely on the older animators whose health may fail sooner rather then later.

Funds are rarely given to films with artistic intent or that are political in nature, resulting the film industry suffering compared to the more internationally regarded South Korea.

Police Corruption

Until recently, Japanese police would work with organized crime to lower crime. The only reason they stopped was not out of concern for the everyday citizen but because they were embarrassed by the Yakuza when they began to show up more publically.

The media is often laughably compliant to the police, with they rarely offering a critical lens.

Police have undue influence on the Pachiko industry, with many retired officers being hired as muscle and for advice.

It is quite common for officers to embezzle from their slush funds.

In a effort to cover up crime, police often refuse to investigate mysterious or suspicious deaths, preferring to label them as accidents or suicide.

Police are often anti migrant and sexist to a fault.

It is neigh impossible to get a wiretap going due to rigid privacy laws.

Even the police can’t fire weapons as you need approval to even loose your gun so many officers have never fired a bullet.

Government Incompetence/Corruption

Voter Apathy is super high, with many elections having hilariously low turnout.

Many politicians have Yakuza connections, with the gang members serving as bodyguards and canvassing for votes.

Votes in the countryside are worth two compared to urban ones.

A lot of politicians are completely out of touch and constantly have to resign for gaffes (racism, sexism, historical revisionism, etc.)

Political acts are based on group consensus so it can take a long time to get meaningful reform done.

Criticism and debate is ironically frowned upon, with open criticism within a party being effectively banned.

Cronyism is common. While for the most part Japanese politics is based on expertise, many politicians are awarded ministries based on their support for the leader.

The NHK (Japanese version of the BBC) is largely neutral and free but the current Japanese government can dictate what it is to focus on temporarily.

Press Clubs are often given exclusive access to interviews and information from the government, so they get biased preferential treatment.

Okay I guess the point of this list is to bring attention to these issues and expand the opportunities of where to go when it comes to dark DC fanfiction. Don’t worry, here’s a cute Conan to make you smile!

#detective conan #shinran #ran mouri #Sato Miwako #Takagi Wataru #Mouri Kogoro #Eri Kisaki #drug mention #alcohlism #police corruption #political corruption #child abuse #suicidal #midnight thoughts #japan #conan edogawa

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ofmythsandmadness · 4 years

Text

MY THOUGHTS ON TUA SEASON TWO: PART ONE (spoilers)

So...I finished season two. And I’ve got a lot of thoughts.

I’m putting ALL my thoughts under the tab so please, don’t click unless you’ve seen it all, and/or you just....like don’t care about spoilers? But please if you’ve not watched it, watch it first ‘cause it deserves all the hype and attention.

(if you haven’t watched yet, go into your settings and blacklist the tag ‘tua spoilers’ because that’ll help you avoid anything if you don’t want to be spoiled, at least on here)

Also, this is part one to my thoughts, because it’d be much too long to list it all here! Part two will be linked below this :)

This is going to be SO badly organized, but I’m gonna do my best to make it otherwise! I’m separating it all under sub-headers, just so you don’t have to read through ALL my thoughts on the series (but there’s a lot, sorry).

I legit just watched it all last night, so it’s fresh but also still jumbled and messy. So bear with me.

Also, let me know what you thought, I’m eager to hear others’ opinions of this show!

AS A WHOLE... So, so, SO damn good. I was scared, and worried and I thought there was gonna be a lot more pain...but it was so good. Arguably better than the first season, I think because the characters are fleshed out and have developed more, and I felt myself caring more for their wellbeings (even though I would have already died for most of them).

Honestly, no. This season WAs better than the first and I’m gonna stick with that.

I also really loved the colour scheme of it all?? I think they did that really well the first season too, but the colour choices and how they alternated between blue and orange, it keeps your attention and adds a vibrance to the characters that was there before but not so loudly.

I want to watch it again and admire how they shot/edited it too, because I actually really was impressed with the shots too (normally Netflix shows aren’t super cinematography-heavy, don’t know if that’s how to say that, but TUA really came through and I’m impressed). I don’t want to drone on about that because i know most don’t care about that as much, so I’ll leave it at just...I was impressed, and most happy with the overall presentation of the show.

LUTHER HARGREEVES...

The way i actually now love him??

I mean I felt bad for him in S1, but here he’s an actual character and I cared about HIM, rather than what he had gone through. From the moment he said ‘I don’t give a shit’ in episode one, I liked him again and I’m SO glad.

I didn’t really love how he still pushed for him and Allison...I mean, I understand that you can’t just erase the feelings, they still stand, but I would have liked a little bit less of it. It’s just awkward to watch and to contrast with Klaus literally calling them out, I appreciate that it wasn’t so prevalent but it was still there.

But overall!! He became a character I actually really liked, he was actually funny too?? Dorky too, and also just more sure of who he was as a person rather than the number...Luther rights.

DIEGO HARGREEVES...

One word: BIIIITCH.

He was one of my favourites from the show pre-S2, and now I can say he might just be my favourite. I would fight fire for that man.

I didn’t think he’d be almost the main character of this show (obviously one of them, because they’re all main characters ig) but I liked it a lot! We really got nothing about who he is as a person in Season One, and though a lot of people were able to fill in the emotional blanks, there was a lot more given to his character and who he is beneath the hard-headed vigilante.

I think David Casteneda did a brilliant job on his character, and had one of the best performances out of all of them. I knew he was good, but I truly was shocked at how good he did as Diego, and I’m happy to see him as an actor thrive and get more credit. He deserves it, and I’m quite happy.

Surprisingly, he was the character to make me cry (I cried at Ben too, don’t worry, but!). When Reginald said that shit to him, I was in fucking pain. I won’t get too deep into it, but just the way his face dropped, and then the stutter - it struck a cord and I cried more at that then I did the rest of the show. Dunno. Maybe that’s just me.

But just like...I wish he had more support...everyone just kept calling him dumb and mocking him and I KNOW his obsession with JFK was dumb and aligned with the Luther moon thing and he didn’t have the greatest plans and I’m not saying all of his actions were right, but he was fucking TRYING. And some of it, they played it off for comedic effect but they were literally just trashing on him for doing the right thing and making him look stupid...it made me a little sad.

I am glad, however, at how he rekindled with all his siblings. Because arguably, Diego was an asshole to all of them and though again, arguably they all were and none of them are doing well and there are reasons - they were all assholes to each other, and especially him to them, especially Vanya when she really didn’t deserve it. And to see them at least begin to mend their relationship made me so happy. The way that in the end, they sat together?? And how he accepted her apology just like that?? I sob.

The scene where diego just says ‘there’s this girl I like - I CRACKED UP AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY IT’S SO FUNNY BUT JFC THAT WAS SO FUNNY. That and threatening Olga - top tier funniest moments of the season for me. They really amped up the comedy this season and I’m happy.

One thing I didn’t get was in the last episode, when he bent the bullets’ trajectory for Five...did he know he could do that? Like I understand that he could do it, but we never saw him do anything else around those lines, aside from in the doomsday season ep1, but that was an alternate history so...I’m guessing Reginald taught him, but??? It was kinda random and I would have liked if they hinted at it at least once before.

To summarize, I love him. I love how far he’s come and I hope he just finds some happiness because he keeps getting the short end of the stick. He deserves the world.

(also, diego hargreeves a huge ass nerd. y’all can’t convince me otherwise. big dork energy)

LILA PITTS/DIEGO & LILA:

You know what? I loved her.

I didn’t like her character as much post maybe episode 6/7, basically once she brought Diego in I was disappointed but I liked her character. I think she was cool and different and chaotic and though I was disappointed that towards the end, she felt a bit thrown in, I still appreciated who she was. I was honestly hoping that she would have left the Handler a lot sooner, I thought they were gonna make her realise the truth a lot sooner but at the same time...this is her maternal figure, she’s been basically brainwashed into that support and there’s gonna be an element of love regardless.

I knew she was gonna be one of the 43 though, the second I saw 1993 I called it and I was happy I was actually right on something. Idk her powers, that too seems a lil bit messy but still, I thought it was neat. I just want to see more! And I think we will, hence why I’m trying not to judge her much, but i hope that we get to know more about her. I don’t want a half-baked love interest, and I was hoping that there was going to be a little bit more this season - but we shall see.

(ritu arya, though, is quite good in her role. and stunning. i quite love her)

I also didn’t HATE the relationship between her and Diego. I know it’s a divided topic but I liked it, I thought they were fucking cute and even though i KNEW there was something off about her, I was just HOPING that it’d be different. I mean, that scene on the bed with them???? I think my heart gave out. Palpitations, bitch. I was so fucking soft for them and even when she was exposed....I stillllllllll wanted the best. :(

And then like shit happened and then it got a little messy (y’all should learn how to communicate...throwing out boyfriend and ex-girlfriend terms like that???) and like yada yada, I was okay but I don’t necessarily like the ‘I love him/her’ thing. I mean sure you can, but THAT felt a little quick. I don’t know why tv shows just LOVE to throw out the I love you’s that FAST, but I’m not into it.

TL;DR - I still REALLY like Lila Pitts, and I still like them together, somewhat (though like maybe slow your asses down folks).

(question though...are we supposed to think of them as siblings now?? bc...idk I don’t see it like luther/allison because they weren’t raised together and really didn’t associate like that?? but are they all reginald’s alien children cause in THAT case wtf am I suppose to think help-)

PART TWO TO MY THOUGHTS: here.

#tua #tua spoilers #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #lila pitts #DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED SEASON TWO #umbrella academy spoilers #tua s2 spoilers #tua season two

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jawnjendes · 4 years

Text

a little bit longer | shawn mendes

shawn x goth oc

forevermore 2/?

AN: haha,,,,,, guess whos simping again. i’ll be posting a throwback one shot featuring shawn n ann in a few days too,,,,,,

masterlist | playlist

It all started with abdominal pain. It always seemed to start that way. This time around, Shawn nor Ann didn't worry because, well, money. Shawn had better resources, and a personal doctor on call to prescribe Ann the best combo of antibiotics. That should have been that, but it's never that simple.

Ann had gone back to work once she started taking the antibiotics, so she missed out on more meetings with Isabella. She didn’t seem that torn up about it. Isabella went through the contract with a fine toothed comb, trying to find some type of loophole to get Shawn and Camila out of this. In other words, Shawn was too focused, and too physically distant from his girlfriend, so when he got a phone call, it was like being hit with ice cold water.

“Your wife is in critical condition, you need to come right away.”

That’s all it took for Shawn to forget everything else. He didn’t even double take at the fact that the person on the other line said “wife.” (Ann put Shawn down as an emergency contact, but it was unknown as to what she put as her relation to him until now.) He didn't say a single word to Camila or Isabella as he grabbed his keys and bolted. Nothing mattered, not the traffic, not the lights, not the pap van following his Jeep, not the fact that he could very well violate his contract by doing this. It doesn't matter.

Shawn got to the hospital and approached the help desk in the main lobby. "I'm here to see Annalise Flores."

"What is your relationship?" the receptionist asked, typing on the computer.

He was going to answer, but then someone cut him off and approached the desk.

"Ex-boyfriend." It was Eduardo Flores, Ann's father. He had a stern look on his face, which only added to his intimidating goth appearance.

Shawn hadn't seen this man in years. Ed let his hair grow and held it back in a bun. He had plenty more tattoos going up and down his arms, and he was decked out in all black like always. The thing is, he wasn't normally this intimidating or angry looking.

"This guy isn't allowed to see my daughter, you hear me?" Ed said to the receptionist.

"That would be up to the patient," she said back.

"I, I wasn't-" Shawn feebly tried to cover up his reason for being here, but Ed cut him off again.

"I heard you say her name. What, you break up years and years ago but you suddenly want her back now that she's sick and vulnerable? You should have thought about that a long time ago!"

Shawn only remained silently confused. What exactly did Ann tell her parents about their break up six years ago? Regardless, he had to think on the fly.

"We're still friends, sir," he said.

"Gentlemen, if you could please clear the area," the receptionist piped up.

The two of them moved out to the waiting room. Shawn still tried to reason with Ed.

"We still talk, we're friends," he said. "She texted me and told me what was happening."

"Then how come she hasn't mentioned you before? Annalise never hides anything from me."

That wasn't exactly true. Ann hid plenty of things from her parents, even little things. Her parents spent a lot of her childhood fishing out any type of personal information from her to the point where she now kept her life as private as possible. She didn't want anyone knowing anything about her. Of course she didn't tell her parents about Shawn, apart from the fact that she wasn't allowed to.

Of course Shawn couldn't just outwardly say that Ann is his girlfriend at the risk of violating his contract… or at the risk that her parents keep up with celebrity gossip and knew that he was supposed to be seen with Camila. Still, he didn't regret going out into the public eye, his priority is Ann. But it was still frustrating that all of these cover ups had to happen, that Shawn had to think about every step he had to take next.

"Look, she is my best friend and I really care about her," he said, careful not to blatantly lie. "Can you just tell me what happened? Please, I'm worried about her too."

Ed gave him a once over, and then gave in. He was honestly very easy to persuade. Intimidating as he was on the outside, Ed was a big softie on the inside. "She admitted herself. Said she had a lot of pain in her abdomen. They took her for a CT and found internal bleeding, so now she's having an emergency surgery."

The news sent Shawn's stomach down to his feet. He thought about the last time he saw Ann, and how she was feeling. All she talked about were minor cramps. How did it escalate so drastically in a matter of days?

He suddenly looked up, realizing another pair of eyes was on him… or several.

The other receptionists at the main desk, some people in the waiting room, and even the security guards at the lobby entrance were doing double takes at Shawn. Even when he had his own problems and was very visibly distressed, he was still a pop star.

That was when all of his media training came to mind. He shouldn't be here because of all the eyes and ears and smartphones. He shouldn't be here because if Andrew or Justin found out they would be pissed. He shouldn't be here because the media will find a way to find out why he was here, who he was here for, and then Ann would be pissed.

He immediately stood up straighter, trying to erase the distress from his face.

"Is anyone else here for her?" he asked Ed.

"Her cousin Jimena is on the way," he replied. "More relatives will probably come and go all day."

Shawn nodded. At least Ann wouldn't be alone, but that didn't stop the sinking sensation in his stomach. He didn't want to do this, but he had to. "Would you tell her I stopped by?"

"You don't want to tell her yourself?" Ed asked, confused. "I mean, you're here after all."

"Yeah, but I figured none of your family would want to see me, so…"

Ed simply gave him a look. "Right. You're a big shot rockstar now, too good for my daughter, huh?"

"No, of course not-"

"Don't worry about it. No one will ever know you were here." Ed shrugged and walked off towards the lobby exit.

Shawn stood there, frustrated. Apparently, when your daughter dumps her boyfriend, you and the entire extended family must blacklist said boyfriend, even if he makes a comeback and proves that he still cares about said daughter. Yes, Ann was the one to end things with Shawn in 2020, but he was the bad guy.

Next time, Shawn would just have to play nice and accept the passive aggression from Ann's parents and other family members he might run into.

With a heavy sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Isabella, apologizing for the sudden departure and letting her know what had happened. Now that he was over the initial shock, he felt a little guilty for leaving the meeting so suddenly.

Then, he went for the exit. He saw Ed re-entering, this time with a young woman at his side.

She was tall, brown, and had short spiky hair. Decked out in a red t-shirt and ripped light wash jeans. That was Jimena Velazquez, one of Ann's cousins. She made eye contact with Shawn as she passed by him. Perplexed but still with recognition. She didn't say anything because Ed was speaking to her.

Shawn met her once before, when he met Ann's extended family for the first time in 2020. Jimena was really laid back and kind, immediately accepting Shawn into the family. Ann always referred to her as the sister she never had. Of course she would be here on this day.

If only Shawn could do the same.

_______

gonna make a new taglist so lmk if you wanna be added!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #look whos back baybee #i hope i can keep up with this #shawn got me feelin some kinda way lately #im lov him still ok

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ootori-sibs · 3 years

Text

Kyoya's second shot

Episode eighteen: Plan B!

Tw: implied self harm

"Kyoya? You have yet to hand in your homework?"

Monday again, Kyoya had a plan that was about to be put into action, but unfortunately he hadn't managed to bring himself to complete the homework expected of him. He looked up from his book, well aware of all the eyes that were on him. The teacher seemed to have assumed it was a mere mistake that Kyoya had forgotten to hand it over, he stared at her with blank eyes, "yes ma'am," he sighed, hanging his head, "I am aware."

People gasped and the entire classroom broke into a cacophony of hushed whispers, even Tamaki leant over and hissed, "Kyoya! Are you feeling alright?"

The teacher looked unsettled, adjusting the cuffs of her shirt. She swallowed and tried to make her tone sound gentle, "alright, is there a reason you have yet to hand your work in?"

"Yes ma'am," Kyoya started, not wanting to finish that statement. People were all looking at him, it was unfathomable that an Ootori would fail at such a simple task, and Kyoya was especially known for being painfully studious. He looked back down at his book, bracing for the outcry, "I simply didn't get around to finishing it, my apologies ma'am."

10:23 - I did not complete my homework, the class have gone mad with shock after hearing.

Go mad they did; the whispers quickly became normal talking, people were phoning their friends and he was sure someone had been recording him. He simply sighed, waiting for the teacher to stop talking about his homework. Said teacher looked extremely unnerved, unsure what to do, "well uh, this is certainly a surprise but I suppose this is the first time this has happened so I'll let you off with a warning, please try and complete it as soon as you can, alright?" Kyoya nodded and the teacher moved on to other things.

The rest of the class seemed intent on staring at Kyoya, whispering about how shocked and disturbed they were. Kyoya shuddered as he realised that this was the kind of tiny change that would send Tamaki into full nonsense mode, he would likely get no reprieve. He had been planning to complete the homework during club hours as well…

So he just sat there in silence, ignoring the very pointed looks he got from Tamaki. Unfortunately he couldn't ignore Tamaki whilst they were walking between classes, "soo…" the accusation started, perfectly innocent, "you didn't do your homework?"

"Does that really matter? What bearing does it have on your day?" He didn't like being short with Tamaki, but he wasn't about to have a discussion about it with him. His heart was hammering in his chest already, he’d never done something like that before and he felt he was about to cry and/or faint.

Tamaki clutched both his hands, nearly knocking poor Kyoya into the wall, “you never forget that kind of thing!! You're always so serious and smart! You’ve never done anything like this before! What's going on??"

"That's none of your business." He pushed Tamaki away, frowning, "please don't assault me like that again, I'm not in the mood to deal with that today." He proceeded to turn on heel and walk down the corridor, towards his class. He felt bad for leaving Tamaki on his own like that, but he felt he had been in the right to get upset, it wasn't any of Tamaki's business to pry into.

Tamaki, obviously told the other hosts, and of course they panicked and did their best to figure out what was 'wrong' with Kyoya. Obviously Kyoya didn't humour them, just sighing and telling them that it's none of their concern, that he doesn't need their intervention. Even Haruhi seemed worried, approaching him towards the end of the very first session.

"Senpai? Are you alright? I know they're being a bit annoying at the moment but it's just because they care," she smiled gently, sitting down at his table. Kyoya resisted the urge to roll his eyes, hating every word that left her damn mouth. They don't care, they just want to poke their noses where it doesn't belong, both of them knew it, Haruhi just liked to pretend to be nice about things like this.

"The key word here being annoying," was his only answer, not even glancing at her for more than half a second, she didn't deserve that much.

A sigh, she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head just a little, "you've been very snappy lately, is there a reason for this?"

Yeah, he's looking at her. Kyoya stopped what he was doing, turning to look at her, "do you just want to know why I didn't do my homework?" He knew that she wanted to know, but he also knew that wasn't why she was asking. He was mainly trying to get her to shut up and leave him alone, he didn't want to talk to her.

It worked, as she stood up, turning to leave, "I'm here if you need someone to talk to, senpai." He actually did roll his eyes at that, hating the way she acted like she was so much better than him.

Woman#2: I can't do my job if you can't take me off the blacklist.

Moron.

Oh right, her. Kyoya sighed and did as he was told, hating what he had to resort to. He hoped it would work.

A week went by and Friday rolled around, Kyoya had nearly forgotten what he'd asked Sieka to do, and was just looking forward to no longer being grounded. He'd ended up stealing the twins' spare fabric shears, and had made sure to clean them before he returned them to their place in the storeroom the day before. This morning he was sure to do his makeup fully, no more lacking as he had done the past week.

When he saw the note on Tamaki's desk, he remembered what Sieka was to do. Her job was simple; talk to Tamaki every day, get fully on his good side, then send him an anonymous love letter, requesting that he meet her in a quiet corner of the school, making sure the letter only gives enough information to stand out from the others, Kyoya would encourage him to go see, so she didn't need to work so hard to do that, but Haruhi would walk by, just when that happens, Sieka would ensure something scandalous to enrage her- Kyoya had told her to make it up as she goes along.

"Usually they put love notes in the mailbox…"

"Maybe she wanted to make sure you read it," Kyoya offered, "you know who wrote it?"

Tamaki shook his head, rereading the letter, "no clue, why would someone write me a love note if they know I've got a girlfriend."

Ugh, that sentiment made Kyoya feel nauseous, a girlfriend, ew. "Strange isn't it?" He had to agree, to make Tamaki happy, "maybe you should go, just to ask her?" Tamaki looked at him in confusion, so Kyoya continued, "well obviously she knows, so there has to be a reason she sent the letter regardless, I think you should go, so you can find out."

"I am curious…" Tamaki pondered on the idea, "you think Haruhi will get mad if I go see?"

"Just don't tell her," he shrugs, frowning, "if she gets mad over something so small, she doesn't deserve you." He offered a smile when Tamaki looked concerned, "it's not like you're accepting the confession, just asking."

The king nodded, smiling a little, "you're right, you're always right. Ok, I'll go see."

Kyoya chuckled, feeling a rush of good feelings as Tamaki praised him, "oh you don't want to say that Tamaki, what if you give me an ego?" He smirked as the blonde laughed, feeling like it was almost back to normal for just a second.

"You've already got one! I couldn't give you a bigger one if I tried!"

"I mean, you've definitely got the superior ego," Kyoya shrugged, knowing full well that neither of them had very high self esteem in truth, they just liked to act like they were egotists.

"Ha!" A slap on the back and Kyoya winced, Tamaki was always one to play rough, "at least I'm not the evil one!" Kyoya smiled fondly at that, remembering the first time Tamaki had called him evil.

"Oh, you have no idea…" well he was evil now wasn't he? It was no longer still aesthetics, and it was the aesthetics that Tamaki was fond of.

The first club session was good, quite quiet actually, the other hosts were pleased to hear that today was the last day of kyoya being grounded, having gotten grounded last friday, so naturally they made plans to hang out over the weekends. "Oh! How about a sleepover on Saturday!"

"We can use my place this time!" Tamaki grinned, "I've made sure to get extra blankets and futons since last sleepover!"

"Oh about that," Kyoya spoke up quietly, "would it be possible to achieve another 'boys night', as you put it?"

"Yeah!" Hikaru nodded, a grin on his face as Kaoru agreed, the two nodding in unison.

"We could do that on Sunday, right boss?"

Tamaki nodded, snapping his fingers, "of course we can! Anything for my best friend!" He paused, glancing down at Haruhi, "oh, you don't mind not joining us on Sunday as well, do you Haruhi?"

She just deadpanned up at him, "believe me, I'm totally fine with just one extra day with you guys."

Then came lunch, and Tamaki made his way down to the specified location. Kyoya made sure to follow him part of the way, finding a place to sit where he was at least within earshot, but he made sure to stay out of view, he didn't want to ruin his own plans. He opened his phone to text the twins, he almost felt bad using them as tools to erase suspicion like this, but it had to be done.

Demon-lord: We're out of commoners coffee, could you get some?

The annoying one: We'll tell Haruhi to do it,

Kaoru: she knows where to get it.

He knew they'd do that, they always make Haruhi do that. Those boys were such fools, always doing the playing and never realising when they were being used. Although, other than their cruel nature, Kyoya was quite fond of them, they were the second hosts that he considered friends. He had forgotten how cruel they could be, he had almost forgotten to see their nicknames and terms for him as their way of expressing friendship, but it wasn't, was it? It was just their cruel nature leaking through, corrupting everything around them.

Either way, Sieka was here now, Kyoya could hear her speaking. "You came! You know, I really didn't think you would," she giggled, it wasn't her natural laugh, it was the one she put on to appear innocent.

"Princess Ayanokoji? It was you?" Tamaki seemed surprised, of course he was, but Kyoya could hear the little layer of spite in Tamaki's voice, oh it almost made him shiver. Tamaki knew how badly Seika hated Haruhi, and although it was inconvenient, hearing Tamaki so bitter was… interesting.

"Yes," Sieka seemed to ignore his tone, she was likely making her attempt to corner him now, "I hope you enjoyed the letter I wrote, I worked very hard on it."

"But you know I'm with Haruhi, you knew…"

"You aren't very close, for a couple, are you? She doesn't even love you, and she boasts about that to your best friend. That has to hurt, are you alright, Tamaki?"

Ooh, cutting where it hurts, Kyoya hadn't expected that but it would definitely help. The shock in Tamaki's voice as he spoke proved that, "but… she…"

Footsteps, Kyoya caught a glimpse of Haruhi passing the room he was hiding in, there she goes. Kyoya almost felt scared, he was hurting her, he was hurting them both. He glanced down at his hands, lipstick smudged on his right thumb, ink on his left forefinger and thumb, a small, half-healed cut on his right hand from when he slipped with the twin's fabric shears. What had happened to him? What was he doing?

But it was too late to stop it now, this should be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Kyoya was doing this, Kyoya was tearing his friends apart… Kyoya was tearing them apart with a smile...

Wow, you're beginning to look really evil…

...guess you're finally showing your true colours.

Wasn't that what Tamaki had said? Looking into Kyoya's eyes after such a weak moment, all he saw was evil? Tamaki had always called Kyoya his best friend, always praised Kyoya's mental fortitude and pointed out any little kindness Kyoya proved he had. Even after all that positive reinforcement, was Kyoya still the same villain Tamaki had laughed at, the same boy who had been pushed to the edge by just a few words from the blonde? Kyoya felt like crying at that revelation, had Tamaki really not had any effect on him? After all this?

He could hear yelling, Haruhi was yelling at Seika, she must be really mad to blow up at her like that… she yelled at Tamaki to go back to the club room. Kyoya should probably make his way back there too, he'd told Tamaki he'd wait there for him. Luckily, Kyoya knew a few shortcuts, so he got there just before Tamaki, waiting outside because he knew the others would be there by now, ready to set up for the next session.

#kyoya ootori #ouran high school host club #tamaki souh #tamakyo #Haruhi Fujioka #Seika Ayanokoji

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