DAY 10: Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? (Like A Bitch)
DAY 10: Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? (Like A Bitch)
Castiel is learning to be human. It hurts. In more ways than one.
Why is Castiel so hard to write? I have a lot to say about him and his character but he's so self-unaware that it's impossible to write. I love him but he's very frustrating. Fandom: Supernatural Character(s): Castiel Words Count: 1,317 Triggers Warnings: - Glaring Self-Esteem Issues - Minor Blood and Injuries (at the end) No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."
The cashier sighed heavily and Castiel looked up long enough to offer a small, embarrassed smile before continuing to count the coins in his hand. The credit card Dean had given him had stopped working and was requiring Castiel to enter the PIN. But Castiel didn’t know the PIN, it was written on a post-it note and hidden in a book in his locker. He hadn’t had to enter the PIN in the few weeks since he’d left the Bunker and had simply used the “contactless payment” but now the “contactless payment” wasn’t working.
Embarrassed, Castiel set the money down in front of the cashier, the coins falling from his open hands like a waterfall and clanging against the metal counter. Behind him, the line continued to grow as the supermarket’s customers grew impatient in hushed tones.
“Is that enough?” Castiel asked.
“Dude, seriously?” complained the cashier.
With a glare, the cashier began counting the coins, much faster than Castiel could have. He was an angel (not anymore) , he had been an angel with all the knowledge of the world, past and present, but he couldn’t count a few coins.
Being human was much harder than he could have imagined. The world was both brighter and dimmer than it had been. He no longer heard the prayers of Humanity but heard the birds singing when dawn broke; he no longer saw the invisible forces of this world but saw animals forming in the clouds.
He also had to sleep and eat and wash and relieve himself and it never ended. It was exhausting .
The experience gave him a whole new appreciation for humanity—for Dean and Sam.
(Castiel didn’t know if he could do it.)
(Castiel didn’t know if he wanted to do it.)
A feminine hand rested gently on his shoulder and Castiel resisted the urge to fight or flee as his skin quivered from his shoulder to his heart (a blade cutting into his flesh, the buzz of a drill approaching his eye, the cracking of his bones under a punch) . Castiel calmed his pounding heart and turned, staring into deep green eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the stranger smiled. “Do you need help?”
“Oh no, it’s fine—”
“There’s not enough,” the cashier cut in impatiently. “Twenty dollars short.”
Humans only had two eyes, but Castiel could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on him, as heavy and terrible as the forces of Heaven. Castiel didn’t know until then that he could be embarrassed.
“Oh, I’ll go put some items back in then,” Castiel replied.
“I can take care of the difference,” the stranger intervened behind him.
Castiel didn’t have the chance to refuse, the cashier practically snatched the bill from the stranger’s hands and signaled Castiel to make room for the next customer. Castiel put his groceries in his bag and waited for the stranger, wanting to thank her and reimburse her.
“Thank you for your generosity, I can reimburse you if you so wish,” Castiel offered.
“It won't be necessary,” the stranger replied kindly. “You needed help and I was able to give it to you. A little help and kindness can go a long way.”
(Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had blood—that of his enemies and that of his friends —on his hands.)
(Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he’d been kind .)
“But if you want, you can help me carry my groceries to my car. I hurt my wrist last week,” the stranger explained. “My girlfriend’s going to scold me again for moving heavy loads.”
“Of course,” Castiel replied, carefully taking the bags from the stranger’s hands.
“Thank you very much,” the stranger smiled. “My name is Claire, I’d shake your hand, but it looks like your hands are full.”
“Steve, nice to meet you,” Castiel said, his throat tightening inexplicably.
But the hardest thing about his new humanity was the guilt , the memory of all the people he’d hurt. How did humans function when they felt so much? On the best days, Castiel felt like he was going to shatter under the weight of his emotions.
“Are you new around here?” Claire asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“It’s only temporary,” Castiel replied, knowing he was lying to himself.
(A part of him hoped Dean would change his mind, that he could go back to the Winchesters. But now that he was no longer an angel, he was nothing more than a burden, someone they had to protect and who would slow them down.)
(He didn't want to cause them any more trouble than he already had.)
(Dean had already been kind enough to give him enough money for the first few months.)
"I hope you like it here then," Claire said pleasantly, opening the trunk of her car. "It's a quiet but nice town."
"Thanks," Castiel replied, putting the groceries in Claire's car. "Have a pleasant day."
"You too Steve,” Claire returned the sentiment. “It was nice meeting you."
Castiel greeted Claire and left the parking lot towards the gas station. He still had time before his shift but he didn't want to be late. This job was the last thing he had in addition to being his place to live. He couldn't afford to lose it.
The sun was warm against his skin and a cat was lounging on the hot tarmac outside the supermarket. Castiel crouched down to pet it, a small smile forming on his face. The cat was grumpy, not appreciative of being woken up, and its scowl reminded him of Dean. Castiel pulled out his phone to send Dean a picture but changed his mind at the last moment. He didn’t want to bother him.
(He didn’t want to know if Dean would answer him or not. Probably because he already knew the answer.)
Castiel straightened up, the heel of his shoe digging into his damaged skin. Even walking hurted and Castiel didn’t want to spend too much money on bandages to cover his blisters. He just hoped he hadn’t bled through his socks again. He couldn’t vanish the blood off his clothes with a wave of his hand anymore.
(Humans were so fragile. Castiel wondered how they didn't die immediately.)
“Have a pleasant day,” Castiel said to the cat who curled up to resume its nap.
Castiel continued on his way, quickening his pace, and more than ever missed his wings. Not necessarily because he could cross the globe in a second if he wanted to—although that was very convenient—but because he couldn’t remember the last time he had flown just because he could.
(His wings had been clipped—by Heaven, by the Winchesters , by himself—long before his Fall.)
(His feet had not left the ground these days, not even in his dreams.)
(He had only himself to blame.)
.
He wasn’t the only one who thought that.
A sharp pain spread through his skull as a metal bar came down hard on the back of his head. Ears ringing in shock, Castiel dropped his groceries, his carton of tomato soup exploding as it hit the ground.
Castiel staggered, leaning on the wall to keep himself from falling. His head spun uncontrollably around him. He felt like he was falling off a building. But no one was there to catch him.
A warm liquid flowed from the back of his head to the back of his neck, his blood pulsing mercilessly in his temples. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he fought back vomiting from the pain.
He couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t see anything.
The pain clouded his vision, turning the world into a series of blurry, indistinct shapes. Every sound seemed distorted, like a distant echo, as terror began to overtake the pain.
Green eyes glowing menacingly were the last thing Castiel saw before he lost consciousness.
Dean.
Fun fact, the story with the credit card at the beginning happened to me when I was eighteen and got my first credit card (the part where I forget my PIN after only using contactless payment for weeks, not the part where someone pays for my groceries). So Castiel is going to experience my embarrassment too. Poor Castiel, he discovers that being human sucks. You have to sleep and eat and even worse you Feel Emotions. And that's not the worst thing that will happen to him later. Speaking of later, I have ideas in mind but given the number of stories I have to write, I think I'll only write it if you're interested. (Or in several months but it's not sure.) Let me know what you think.
More Posts from The-stars-in-between and Others
“I'm on Team Winchester now,” Meg explained, filling two shot glasses with vodka. “Or at least Team Kick-Crowley’s-ass-and-give-Sam-his-soul-back.”
“I don't buy it,” Jo retorted acidly. “You've whored yourself to Azazel and Lucifer. Why not Crowley too?”
There was a flicker of surprise in Meg's eyes, her memory of Jo probably no longer matching the woman before her. But Jo had died and been reborn, all sharp edges and broken angles. Full of anger and grief.
“Because I have morals, even for a demon,” Meg replied, brushing her fingernail across Jo's cheek. “Also, he tried to kill me. Multiple times. Call me difficult, but I don't find that very attractive in a leader. In a lover, on the other hand—”
“ You’ve tried to kill me,” Jo interrupted her, grabbing her hand in hers and twisting her wrist to keep it away from her face.
“And I'm very glad I didn't succeed,” Meg replied with a smirk, her eyes roaming over Jo’s body.
I need the people's opinion, tonight do I study or do I write something for Destiel Day?
Snippet Sunday !!
What do you mean I'm finally writing for Children of the Sea again? To celebrate, here is a little snippet from the next chapter, without the names obviously so as not to spoil anything.
Publication date is tentatively set for December 25th. A little Christmas present.
"The ties that bound them together were forged in the heat of battle, sharp and broken metal melding to create the most powerful weapon of all. A crew, a family. Through blood, sweat, and tears. To the ends of the ocean."
“I have something for you, beautiful,” Pandora said and Lily could hear the smile in her voice.
Lily straightened up and Pandora placed a flower crown on her head with a small, proud smile. Pandora's hands and Lily's flowers, the product of both their creations. Beautiful and fragile. It was Lily who had taught her how to do them when they were still friends, or pretending there wasn't something more between them.
“Pour la plus belle des fleurs,” Pandora complimented. Or at least Lily thought she did. She had no idea what Pandora had said but she loved it when she spoke French.
Grabbing the small mirror she had "borrowed" from Marlene from her jacket pocket, Lily observed the flowers in her hair. Pandora had chosen flowers that complimented the color of her hair — hyacinths, agapanthus, fuchsias and lilac.
Lily liked what she saw in her reflection, her long red hair that framed her face, her long flowing blue skirt, the flowers that made her green eyes stand out. She looked feminine, she looked like… herself . She couldn't contain her smile of euphoria.
“I love it,” Lily said softly, touching an agapanthus with her fingertips. “Thanks Panda.”
She leaned down to kiss Pandora, her hand burying itself in Pandora's hair. She could have drowned in the softness of her skin forever. Lily smiled against Pandora's lips, an idea crossing her mind.
“You need a crown too.”
DAY 4: A Good Night's Sleep
Law can't escape, even in his dreams. Especially in his dreams.
You know those games where you hit the ball around to get it to the finish line? Law is the ball. Trigger Warnings : - Implied Character Death - Graphic Description of Corpses - Maggot - Blood and Gore - Psychological Horror - Implied Genocide Nothing is graphic except the description of the corpses but it's definitely there. Feel free to let me know if I missed anything. Fandom : One Piece Character(s) : Trafalgar D. Water Law Words Count : 962 No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)
Law ran and ran, but he couldn't escape. The white stretched everywhere, on the buildings, on the trees, on the people . The cold air bit his skin viciously and his ragged breathing formed condensation in the air.
The smoke morphed before his eyes, winding and wrapping all around him. The smell of smoke and burning flesh hit his nose and Law doubled over to vomit.
He was so hot, his skin was clammy and he felt like he was suffocating in his heavy black feather coat. The coat swallowed him up completely, almost suffocating him and Law wondered when it had arrived on his shoulders. It must have been Cora-san who had put it there. But where was Cora-san?
The smoke thickened, taking on the appearance of crows with bloody feathers. Drops of blood fell onto the pristine snow. White. Red. Black. Law’s head kept spinning.
Where was Cora-san?
If they didn't hurry up, Doflamingo would catch up with them.
(Doflamingo had already caught up with them.)
(Cora-san was dead.)
Law looked up at the sky. The stars shone brightly in the dark night, incandescent and untouchable. (How could he see them through the smoke?) A star grew in the sky, grew and grew until Law could see only it, until his retina burned in his eyeballs.
Strings of gold descended from the heavens, like the will of a vengeful god (run Law, run), and fell to the earth with all the force of a meteor. The ground shook and Law fell into the bloody snow.
The threads streaked the sky by the thousands until Law could no longer see the stars, trapping him in the White City. (City of the Dead, City of Angels)
A birdcage.
(Doflamingo was there.)
(Run, Law, Run.)
The blood-stained raven croaked, a cruel, bitter laugh. Law wept with it. His tears felt like stardrops, burning against his cheeks.
Law began to run again. The white continued to advance, marking his skin and seeping into his body, all the way to his lungs. Soon, the white would swallow him whole until nothing remained of him but a bloodstain on the snow.
A weight fell on his back, sending him to the ground and snow poured into his mouth. Law tried to swim through the mass that clung to his skin like blood, but chains around his feet pulled him deeper into the earth.
Law screamed. But no one heard him.
The pressure on his back grew more intense and when Law opened his eyes again, Lammy's lifeless eyes were staring at him. Law was drowning in a sea of severed limbs and rotting flesh. Bones sticking out in all the wrong directions, teeth falling out of twisted smiles. Gaunt skin covered in white spots.
The white had caught up with him.
(Dead. Everyone was dead.)
Law was the only survivor.
“See? There is no despair in this world. Someone will probably come and give you a helping hand.”
A maggot crawled out of Lammy's eye and into Law's ear.
But he couldn't scream.
(But he couldn't cry.)
If he screamed, the Navy would find him and kill him.
(If he cried, Doflamingo would find him and kill him.)
It was his only way to leave Flevance alive.
(It was his only way to leave Minion Island alive.)
A skeletal hand placed itself over his hand and mouth, preventing him from screaming. Terrified, Law followed the arm with his eyes, barely daring to move or breathe. Cora-san smiled at him, blood running from his nose and a broken tooth.
“I’ll die smiling! Because if you ever think of me, I want you to remember my smile.”
Cora-san's coat spontaneously caught fire. As usual, Cora-san didn't notice. The fire spread to the mountain of corpses that Law was on top of, licking the soles of his shoes.
The World Government wanted to remove all evidence.
(But they wouldn't be able to, because Law was still alive.)
(For that, he had to run.)
(Run, Law, Run.)
A hand locked around his ankle, cold and bony. Lammy’s head snapped around in its socket, the skin of her face melting around her eyeballs. She was smiling.
“Big brother, let’s go to the festival!”
Lammy’s hand tightened, her fingers digging in painfully until blood flowed.
“Big brother, why don’t you want to play with me?”
There were tears in her eyes.
“Big brother, why don’t you love me anymore?”
Law tried to pull away, tugging and kicking. He fell out of the pile and into the snow, Lammy’s torn-off arm still clinging to his ankle.
Gunshots rang out in the night, making Law flinch violently.
(Two brothers face to face, a gun in their hands. A perfect mirror.)
(Cora-san's body falling on the chest where Law was hidden.)
Law began to run, Lammy's arm like prisoner's chains around his feet. Black and pink feathers flew around him, a raven laughed in the distance.
Strings wrapped around Law's throat and hands. A doll tangled in his puppeteer's grip.
"You can't run forever, Law."
He couldn't escape.
He couldn't escape.
He couldn't escape.
A crevasse opened beneath his feet, snow cascading down and dragging Law down with it. The white covered him, swallowed him, ate him whole.
But just before Law was completely devoured by the white, an open hand closed around his wrist. Warm and soft and gentle. A blond man smiled at him, black and pink feathers dancing around him.
“If you want a good night's sleep, nothing better.”
(Law hadn't slept properly since Cora-san died.)
(The world was so noisy .)
“Cora-san?”
Law's voice was weak, almost inaudible.
(No one had heard him cry amidst the explosions, long after Cora-san died.)
(Cora-san could always hear him.)
“ Wrong .”
Law screamed.
(No one heard him.)
I'm sorry.
But once he is gone who will I have?
tiktok / icarly / unknown / @/mothman / An Oresteia: Agamemnon, Aiskhylos / Bumble Ardy, Maurice Sendak / icarly / A Little Life, Hanya Yaragihara / The Fall Of The House Of Usher, Steven Berkoff / A living Chattel, Anton Chekhov
“My name is Ace, nice to meet you,” Ace introduced himself, practically shouting in Buggy's ear and bowing his head slightly.
The crew bowed in turn, returning Ace's salute, who seemed pleased by their action. Buggy exchanged a look with Mom over Ace's head, where had Ace learned such manners?
Despite his angelic exterior, Buggy knew from his own experience during the first two years of Ace's life and from Mom's letters during the next two that Ace was more akin to a mud-dwelling demon.
My amazingly talented little sister made me an illustration for the new chapter of my fanfic. I wanted it to feel like the imagination bubbles that Luffy or Robin often have and she nailed the vibe perfectly.
Little Gremlin
Okay, so I really thought about it (and couldn't help but add a tiny little bit of angst) and I like the idea of Athena calling Odysseus Little Warrior when he was young and she was feeling extra affectionate towards him (not that she realized that just yet).
But now she doesn't dare call him that anymore because she doesn't want him to think he's just a warrior and a tool to her, especially after My Goodbye.
Ody kinda misses it though because it reminds him of his happier times with her when he was young.
With Athena calling Telemachus little wolf these days, what nickname might she settle on for Odysseus? (assuming she does end up using one ofc)
I think I'll update the post with the suggestions so we'll have a masterlist hehe, every suggestion wins, no matter if I vibe with it.
Im gonna be so real can yall actually talk about ways we can support trans women in the UK instead of giving all the attention to fucking JKR. I already know that Harry Poter sucks, I wanna know how to actually HELP people. Something something you have to love the oppressed more than you hate the oppressor
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oscillating between one piece and supernatural as my hyperfixation depending on the weather
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