#but oh well. i'm just glad i can sorta function

[shrodingersbox]

it seems i may finally be on the rise, health-wise, and i've been able to get a couple batches in the tan! i had to bow out of the optimistic goal show i signed up for next month because i definitely will not be able to have enough inventory, but i may update the shop soon 👀

[quirkle2]

oh nooo that's quite a bummer :( but i'm very glad that i helped brightening up your day :") tbh your writing brightens up my day too (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

AND WAIT I'VE BEEN ACTUALLY QUITE THINKING ABOUT WHETHER ZOMBIE MOB HAS FOUGHT OFF A ZOMBIE WHEN I ASKED IF HE HAS EVER BITTEN SOMEONE and since you brought it up, well, would be okay to ask about the details of how it went 👁️👁️ (also him fighting off a fellow zombie to protect tome got me sobbing)

- 🪻

aww im glad my silly little words brighten ur day!! ur so sweet :]

and yes, it went horribly <3! tome prolly wasn't paying attention as closely as she should've been and got herself surrounded by a crowd. to be clear, that's not Always dangerous, since zombies arent like,, after ur brains in this constantly. but these zombies did look quite hungry, and human or not, she looked like a good meal,,

she had wandered off a bit from mob n ritsu, but mob heard the commotion first. tome has a big fucking baseball bat in this au that she likes to swing around, but a baseball bat can only get u so far in terms of self defense. she thins the horde but there's simply too many of them

mob lets exactly One zombie grab her and yank her toward them before he goes ballistic

watching zombies fight is a lot closer to watching wild animals fight than anything else, and it gets quite horrid sometimes. since their bites aren't rly "dangerous" to each other beyond the typical Oh No a Chunk of Flesh is Gone (not even painful for them, since their nerves r.. less than functional), the fight is a lot more close up and gruesome than a fight against a zombie and a human would be. humans usually back away from zombies immediately and try not to touch them at all in fear of getting bitten; zombies don't need to care abt that

most of the horde realizes that this meal isn't going to be easy and they wander off, but a few more hungry, more desperate ones try to rip into mob's throat at the first sign of defiance. it's not exactly a fair fight; it's like 1 against 4, so he's sorta bound to lose

thankfully ritsu shows up and shoots two of them down (he's Terrified of shooting mob by accident, but either way he'll probably die, so) and tome gets the last one with a good swing to the head. ritsu rushes to mob and is horrified by the amount of blood dripping from his neck and his arm; tome is equally as shocked, but she's mostly thinking, "ive Never seen a zombie defend a human before"

mob's neck is thankfully mostly just scraped up and clawed, but there Is some gruesome punctures where canines sank in and tugged. it's a lot worse along his arm that's bitten and gouged beyond belief. he loses a lot of blood here, but the whole nerves-no-longer-work thing is a blessing in disguise atm; he'd be in a lot of pain otherwise. while ritsu and tome are patching him up w shaky hands he simply glares beyond their shoulders like he thinks he's still in danger, even when they tighten the bandages. it's like he barely notices what they’re doing

his strangely alert behavior makes them think abt the possibility that maybe mob Knows he could've easily been shredded apart there, and he's a little scared and worked up abt it. the only reason he managed to fight as long as he did without dying is prolly bc the other zombies weren't as well-fed as mob—they were kinda weak and shaky from days of no food, but mob has humans taking care of him and keeping him fed 24/7

they're all shaken up by it pretty good.. tome is still reeling from the fact that mob defended her so valiantly, and ritsu is quietly horrified by the idea of another zombie killing mob instead of a human. he doesn't know which is worse

[animegirlsakurablr]

Shenanigans in the Grand Order, part 460

So I definitely should hang onto something.

So this is Olympus? Hot damn.

😭

Annnnnnnd made it through Atlantis! I can honestly see why so many love it. I don't know what else I can say that everyone else has said. 😅 But that doesn't mean that there's things that aren't worth talking about!

So, the biggest one: the Olympus gang being alien machines. I'm honestly neutral to this revelation, probably because I'm just so used to things from our world being "remixed" so often (hello anything Sengoku era related). Like, it actually is interesting thinking about what functions they have while as machines (Haphaestus is a factory, Demeter is a compost bin, etc.), but I'm also not going to think about it all the time either.

I... honestly got a little sad at Charlotte's death. Not "I am actually crying over this" like with Mandricardo, just a little sad. I just didn't really feel a "connection" (I guess that's the best word?) to her. She's really... simple. And while being simple isn't a bad thing, I just sorta... wonder if there was anything more. Don't get me wrong, I do like her, just not as much as the narrative probably wants me to be.

Switching from Charlotte to Mandricardo, I definitely understand why y'all love him. He's a constant mood, he's adorable, he consoles Guda/Ritsuka, and perhaps the biggest thing that makes him stand out from most Servants - he actually asks Guda/Ritsuka/us the player if he could call them/us by name. How many Servants goes from calling them/us by name and then switching to 'Master' later on (like Chiron in the Apoc event)? Too many. Even Charlotte does that as well. But Mandricardo doesn't. He asks if it's okay to do so. That really sticks out to me. And yes, I did indeed cry when he shielded Guda and co. from Artemis' arrow, how could I not after all this?! I'll give him a few grails when I can. (Mandricardo is a better boyfriend/husband than Saito, fight me)

Who else, uhhhh... oh yeah, Bart. He honestly was annoying during certain points (we get it, you like bangs, do ya have anything else to share?!), but he also has plenty of scenes where that isn't brought up as well. He is close to the bottom of the barrel, but there's thankfully enough that he isn't for me. Same can't be said for Paris though.

I'm still not the biggest fan of Orion's and Artemis' relationship. While I am glad these two got development that they really needed, I still wish that Artemis herself (aka the playable version) also gets a writing update too.

SQ used: 0

Revival stones: 0

Pray for me when I get to Olympus.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter eleven - “there’s a reason behind everything”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n endure an event of stressful affliction, followed by something... entrancing.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It had been a few days. There hadn't been any more headaches or vomiting. He was glad that Y/N faced no more impediments after that. However, he can't say the same for himself.

The thrashing was violent, his limbs wrenching, muscles tensing. The sheet beneath him was damp from cold sweat. He hadn't had a nightmare this bad in a while.

Ghastly memories assaulted him, ripping him from reality and forcing him back into agony, torture, and trauma. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but he wasn't sure if that was in the nightmare or real life. The lines of reality and dreamscape faded. He couldn't tell if he was awake, and panic metastasized throughout his body.

His arms were strapped down - yes, two of them. He couldn't tell if the other was metal or not; the only thing he could register was that he had zero control. He was exposed and helpless and right back where he was before. He had never gotten out. Hydra still had their chains around his neck, choking the humanity out of him, and violating his autonomy to make a monster out of a man.

He felt like a caged animal. All there existed was terror; he needed to get out and he didn't care if he had to cut off a body part to do it. He jerked his body and pulled his arms as hard as he could. He thrashed and thrashed, desperately trying to somehow find a way out of this hell. He tried to scream but his lungs were frozen, cracked and collapsed from the ice that they defiled him with.

Every nerve in his body was ignited, screeching to try to escape. The only coherent thought in his head was "get out." Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get—

The top of his head suddenly burned, pain radiating out in beats, like a heart rate. It was then when he realized he was awake. It was then when he realized he had flung himself up, causing his head to collide with the wooden slats of the top bunk. It was also at this point when he heard her voice.

"Bucky!" her voice shook intensely, worry bubbling from the back of her throat. "Oh my god."

Faintly, the fear in her voice registered somewhere in the back of Bucky's brain, but this had no effect on his entirely overstimulated nervous system. His reaction was visceral; he flinched hard, jolting away from Y/N and falling off the side of the bed. The floor was cold; he could feel it in his hand and knees as he knelt on all fours (all threes?) trying to catch his breath.

Y/N hurried around the bed and immediately dropped to the floor in front of him. Her hands were quivering in front of her, completely unsure of how he would react to being touched.

His eyes were glued to the floor beneath him, but in his peripheral he could see Y/N's legs. Suddenly, she knelt on her hands, trying to be as non-threatening as she could.

"Buck," she whispered. "It was a nightmare. It was just a nightmare. You're here, and you're just fine."

"Fuck," he whispered. His body was on fire; he wished it'd just calm down.

"Your hand's on the floor. What does the floor feel like?" she asked, in an attempt to detour his attention.

"Cold," he strained.

"Cold, yeah," she said. "Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"It's because it's made of stone. Stone has a high thermal conductivity, which means it allows heat to flow through it quickly. The heat from your skin goes right into it and flows through really fast."

He pivoted his wrist slightly, smoothing the skin on his hand over the stone, feeling the cold, and thinking about what Y/N said.

She smiled slightly. "There's a reason behind everything, you know. An explanation."

"Even for this?" he asked, referencing the panic.

"Especially for this. What are you feeling right now?"

"Can't breathe."

"Yep. Okay, that's normal, too. That's your nervous system. It's really riled up right now because you're stressed. See, your body has a natural response to stress called the fight or flight response. It's supposed to be used in the wild to run from a predator or something, and you can imagine how engaging and intense that would be on your body," her voice was calm and steady. "The only thing is, your body is going through those same functions and feelings when you're not out running from a lion or something, trying to fight for your life. Instead, you're here. You're sitting on the floor and you're here with me. You're not in any immediate danger. We're fine."

He nodded, still looking down, still trying to compose himself. He couldn't look her in the eyes once he realized his face was wet from tears. He was acutely embarrassed. Be that as it may, she was helping. What she said made sense. It helped to understand just what his body was doing rather than simply trying to survive through it.

Suddenly, directly where his eyes were cast, a drop of crimson appeared on the floor; it dripped down from him. It was then when he registered the sharp ache in his nose and the warm, wet feeling around it. Blood.

"Bucky, there's- blood, are you okay?" The calm in her voice was muffled by worry.

"Y-Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. It's just my nose..."

"What can I do?"

"Can you just... keep talking?"

"Yes," she breathed, the calm returning with infinite softness. "So, there are a few divisions of the nervous system. First, you have the central nervous system and the peripheral nervous system. Then, from the peripheral, you have the somatic and autonomic systems. And then from autonomic, you have the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems. Those are what you're feelin' right now. Your sympathetic is what gets you ramped up - you know, increases in heart rate, breathing, sweating. And then your parasympathetic is what calms you down, so slowing your heart rate and breathing and so on. Your sympathetic activated the fight or flight response, and your parasympathetic is trying to rein you back in... I hope that makes sense."

"It does."

"You know the hormone that gets released during all this?"

"Adrenaline's the only one I can think of."

"There you go!" she smiled. "It comes from the adrenal glands."

"Can I get those removed, then?"

"Unfortunately not. Do you still have your tonsils?"

"Nah, got those taken out forever ago."

"Appendix?"

"I think I still have that one?"

She laughed. "Well that's good. The appendix is sorta kinda part of the lymphatic system."

"The what?"

"Er- immune system I mean."

"Never knew that," he commented.

"There's a reason behind everything, you know," she quoted herself endearingly.

"An explanation," he said, completing the sentiment and finally looking up.

Upon seeing his face, Y/N  tried to hide her shock and concern, but he noticed. The apprehension was clear. He didn't want to be pitied; he wished he would've just suffered through this alone in a hole or something.

"There you are," she whispered.

Her voice was so gentle that his chest almost cramped, and then his entire body softened. Never mind. He'd much rather stay.

"Here I am."

She reached forward, ever so delicately, and smoothed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks, effectively wiping away the tears. Effectively removing the physical aftermath of his pain.

She gave a strained smile. Why did he feel bad?

"Stay here," she instructed before getting up.

He'd do nothing but comply.

She came back with a damp white cloth, returning to her kneeling position in front of him.

"Here," she breathed, putting the cloth up to his nose.

He reached up to grab it, but her hand pulled away.

"I got it," she reassured.

He wasn't about to allow her to clean up his mess. This was pathetic enough as it was; he was pathetic enough as he was. She didn't need to tend to him out of obligation.

He insisted. "No, it's okay. I can do it."

"Bucky, let me help. Please."

"You don't have to. Seriously, it's fine."

"I know I don't have to - I want to. I want to help. Please just let me help."

He found he wasn't very good at saying no to her. He nodded silently, closed his eyes, and leaned his head forward. She got to work, gently dabbing the cloth to his blood stained skin, blotting the red, erasing the damage.

"You know," she said, a slight inflection in her voice as a result of her concentration. "I think you accidentally hit yourself in your sleep. I think that's why you're bleeding. 'Cause your head hit the top bunk, not your face."

"I'm really that talented, huh?"

She snickered. "Very. I don't know if I could manage such a feat."

"No, if you had nightmares, you'd probably just know exactly what each one meant and adjust your subconscious so you weren't afraid anymore."

She leaned back, an amused but shocked expression on her face, eyebrows raised, head tilted. Then she laughed.

"Look at you. Came for my neck with that one."

"I was just joking-"

"I know," she chuckled, leaning back in to continue her diligent work, "don't worry. I thought it was funny... even though it was wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Bucky, I wish I had that much control. I know the brain, but I can't work with mine that well. I'm only good at working with other people's."

He smirked. "Nah, I still think you could."

"Well, you have too much faith in me."

He couldn't think of a response to that. He had become decently distracted by the warmth radiating from her. She was so close. He thought back to what she said about heat conductivity, and briefly wondered how fast her warmth might transfer to him. What would happen if he just... opened his eyes-

Big mistake. He nearly drowned in the color, the depth all consuming. He hadn't noticed her movements stopped. She held the cloth at her chest, waiting. There were mere inches between them.

"Hi," she whispered, the ends of her mouth turning up ever so slightly.

He didn't think his body had ever been so still. He returned the smile all the same.

"Hi."

"What are you thinkin'?"

He could see every detail on her face. It made him equal amounts nervous and giddy. He never really thought about the number of eyelashes an average person had, but he became suddenly interested in counting each one of hers.

"I don't... I don't know..."

"You don't know? Well, it looks like there's at least a couple of hefty thoughts swirlin' around in there."

He did have a thought. Well, more of a question. What would happen if he glanced at her lips? What would happen if he just leaned in?

"Yeah... yeah, there may be a few."

When she didn't respond, her eyes bore into him, and dear lord, he felt bare. Eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. But lovely. Oh, so lovely. And then that thing started to happen again: when time got lazy and the world felt slow. The room was without a sound. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and maybe some of hers, too. It's as if they were in a trance.

Then, that thought returned. What would happen if he just leaned in?  Rationally, he knew he shouldn't try to find the answer to that question. Nonetheless, curiosity beckoned him. Had the space between them become smaller? He couldn't tell. Not even an inch of their skin was touching the other, but every sensation and perception was so overwhelming, he thought his brain might fizzle out.

She was just so, so close. He was frozen, and never wanted to move again. She was so close, until suddenly she wasn't. Until suddenly, the trance stopped, time caught up, and the world began to move once more. Until suddenly, Y/N's serene smile disappeared, and she leaned back, awkwardly clearing her throat.

"Does your nose hurt? I can see if I can come up with a makeshift icepack or something."

"Uh, no. No, it's fine. I don't even feel it..."

He wondered which feeling he was denying.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie

[mirabel-on-a-bicycle]

Can't stop thinking about how Duolingo says they design their courses by analysing data on how people learn best cuz I've been using it only for a week and it is so? adhd friendly?? idk is it just me? like all my friends who had tried it found the constant reminders and notifs quite annoying (quoting a friend directly: "tbh I want to choke that green ass owl") but I reeally wanted to learn swedish before young royals s2 dropped so I gave it a try anyway AND OH BOY

• The gem collecting, experience points, instant rewards system? :D

• Those cute lil characters with their own lil personalities celebrating when I get stuff right?? ehehe dopamineee

• Since I cannot function without someone smacking me with a pamphlet or smth every 10 mins, I was pretty glad that it kept reminding me to get my ten mins done for the first couple days, until I could actually get to it on my own.

• Also duo sent me these messages asking if id be able to do my lesson that day with a simple yes or no button, I had to do it, cuz I kinda felt like the owly was relying on me? idk but it worked :)

This accountability technique sorta does work for me, in which I assure another person that I'll do my job or get their job done, because then my brain goes all do it or die trying.

• Love. these leagues where I can compete with the others cuz that makes me wanna do 5 lessons in a row without stopping, and i was a little more excited than necessary when I reached the top and wouldn't stop showing it to my friends. Oh boi it was so satisfying.

So yea there were a bunch of other stuff I noticed too and I forgot, but what I'm thinking is.. *looks left and right* did duolingo accidentally end up with a bunch of people with adhd to collect their data from lolll cuz ok, I know nothing and I'm flailing in the dark here obv but all I know is this app holds my attention well enough to write a post on it so yea :))

[reyescarlos]

I've read through the prompts you did and omg I'm in love with your writing 😍 if you're still doing prompt requests, can I request 17 and 18 (either separate or together) for Buddie.

You guys are so nice, stop! That means so, so much to me. Thanks for taking the time out to read my ramblings. This sorta snowballed so it’s a combo fic!

17/18. “I remember kissing you, why do I remember kissing you?”/ “are you that desperate?” “for you, yes.”

Buck rolls onto his side to shield his eyes from the assault of sunlight pouring into his room. If he could he’d shoot the sun down to keep it from ever hurting his eyes again. But such a feat would require energy that his body simply doesn’t have now. The wave of nausea that crests in his stomach combined with the throbbing ache at his temples tells him Buck everything he needs to know about how last night went.

Normally he prides himself on being able to handle his alcohol but he was no match for Eddie despite his best efforts to keep up with him. He had to wonder if at some point Eddie hadn’t pulled a fast one on him and had been downing water each time instead of vodka like him. Buck groans and kneads the middle of his forehead with the butt of his hand. It does very little to alleviate the tension there but Buck naïvely clings to the notion that this simple act alone will be his saving grace.

No, what he needs is a shower and something to settle his stomach. The very thought of getting out of bed seems daunting but Buck forces himself to sit up, pushing aside the comforter draped haphazardly on his bed. He swings his feet over the side and sits still for a minute. It’s progress, albeit slow, but he’ll take a victory no matter how small. After a beat he stands up and clears his throat. His mouth his dry and Buck does his best to maintain his balance. He’s glad no one is around to see him wobbling like a newborn calf on his legs.

Buck makes the treacherous journey down the stairs, cursing each step as he goes and regretting the fact that his bedroom is even in a loft in the first place. The first time he saw he thought it was a cool idea and Buck also tosses in one more curse to his former self for failing to see the downside of this setup. He stops his grumbling when he notices the smell of coffee and hears movement in the kitchen.

“Wow, look who’s finally up,” Eddie calls out to him. “I was just about to go up and check on you.”

Buck looks out at the spread on the kitchen’s island. Eddie’s been busy this whole time making breakfast meanwhile Buck could barely drag himself out of bed. He looks at Eddie and shakes his head.

“How are you even functioning right now?” he asks in disbelief.

Eddie laughs at him. “Not all of us are lightweights.”

Buck narrows his eyes teasingly and leaves Eddie for a moment to clean up in the bathroom. One look at his reflection makes him grimace. He knew he felt like roadkill but apparently, he looks like it too. He does what he can to look somewhat presentable before shutting off the light and going back into the kitchen. Eddie’s already fixed a plate for him which he eyes wearily.

“I know I can’t exactly cook,” Eddie interjects, beating Buck to the punch, “but breakfast stuff I can do so eat up.”

Buck’s growling stomach doesn’t object and he picks up his fork, turning it on its side to cut through a pancake.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks, standing across the island from him.

“Like total crap. Remind me to never challenge you to a drinking game again. I barely remember even getting into bed last night,” he says, shaking his head.

He watches as Eddie’s mouth twists to the side, as if both in thought and concern.

“Are you okay?” Buck ventures.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m good.”

“You may be an expert drinker but you’re a shit liar,” he counters.

Buck doesn’t miss the nervous look that flashes across Eddie’s face for the faintest of moments. Had his eyes not been trained on the other man, he might’ve missed it.

“Seriously, Eddie. What’s going on?”

Eddie drums his fingers absently on the counter top, seemingly plucking up the courage to say whatever he has to next. Buck’s eyes drift from Eddie’s pensive eyes to his lips and a foggy memory tugs at back of his mind.

“How much do you actually remember from last night?” Eddie asks, his words measured.

Buck pauses for a moment to consider. He recalls Eddie initially coming over, the two of them watching a few movies and passing bottles between them. He remembers sitting closely beside Eddie, far closer than he’s ever dared or figured he’d have a right to. He remembers telling Eddie how jealous he was the first time they met because he thought Eddie was hot enough to steal his spot on the calendar. He remembers far more now than he thought he did when he woke up.

He remembers Eddie laughing off the compliment until Buck drove the point home, listing all the things he thought were attractive about Eddie. He remembers Eddie swatting away that compliment too until Buck shut him up with a kiss.

Something telling must have flashed across his face because a look of recognition flits across Eddie’s just then.

“I remember kissing you,” Buck says slowly, trying to make the words click as he says them aloud. “Why do I remember kissing you?”

“Because you did,” Eddie says bluntly but Buck notes the caution in his words, as if he’s safeguarding himself.

“Yeah…that’ll do it.” Buck isn’t sure what to say just then and fiddles with his fork to avoid looking at Eddie.

“Thoughts?” Eddie prompts, clearly wanting to engage in this line of conversation.

“If I freaked you out, I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know, was being stupid and got carried away,” he mumbles.

Eddie sighs softly. “Well, that’s a shame because I was thinking we could maybe try it again. Sober this time.”

Bucks eyes widen and flash to Eddie’s face to see if he’s joking but it’s clear from the direct, unwavering stare that he’s completely serious.

“I- I mean, yes, we could. Of course. If you want,” he babbles. He smacks his palm to his forehead. “So smooth.”

“Are you that desperate?” Eddie taunts, a knowing smile dancing wickedly on his perfect mouth. Buck can’t resist being blunt as Eddie leans forward, closing the distance between them across the island.

“For you, yes,” he replies, his hand cupping the back of Eddie’s neck and pulling him closer still, his lips brushing against Eddie’s. “For every last drop.”

[carawenfiction]

Hi! :) I hope you're doing well! I just wanted to let you know that G has quickly stolen the top place as my favourite (even if his fashion choices are somewhat questionable :P). I'm a little curious as to the physiology of the shadow characters. Do they have to eat and sleep like regular humans? Or because they're sorta supernatural is it a little different? I'm excited to see how this story progresses!! Take care!

Hi :D hope you’re doing well, too! 

And I’m so glad you like G! But how dare you question their fashion sense? >:o That’s crossing the line right there!

… No, I’m just joking lmao. G’s style can be a bit too excessive and too bright, but that’s how they think most fashionable people from the Sunworld dress xD bright and colourful, just like their world~

Oh, good question! They do need sleep, yes. And they do eat. They may be supernatural beings of some sort, but in their normal state they aren’t much more superior to humans. It’s a bit spoilery so I can’t say too much about it, but there is a reason that the characters are a bit more powerful in their shadowforms. Other than that and their respective abilities, they function a lot like humans :)

Thank you so much for the ask! You take care too ^^

[mittensmorgul]

I know there have been times in the series where people were in love with the idea of Cas giving up his grace for Dean or dying for him or making some other big sacrifice. And I just really really hate that idea? It reminds me too much of the unhealthy brodependency cycle. I don't want to see Cas become human like that, forced to under duress or making his ultimate life goal be about "bleeding for the Winchesters." We're getting past that. So I'm glad S10 didn't do the grace cure for example.

Hi there… I feel like I should make at least one disclaimer here before I even start to reply to this…

Disclaimer #1: I am not now, nor have I ever been in love with the idea of Cas giving up his grace FOR Dean, or dying FOR Dean. You used the words “forced” and “under duress.” You even referenced his line from 7.22 about “bleeding for the Winchesters.” Out of context that does sound really bad, and I’ll get to why below, but I really don’t get any of these objections to Cas giving up his grace, because they seem to ignore Cas’s own free will to make that choice for himself, you know? More on that in a second. First,

Disclaimer #2: Hi, I’m MittenWraith and you may remember me from such fanfic offerings as Revenge of the Subtext, which was essentially a rewrite of the end of s10 (that spared Charlie first off) and gave Cas the agency to CHOOSE to give up his grace, not because he was forced to, but because doing so (at the time in canon at the end of s10) also gave him everything he wanted– to be able to stay with Dean and NOT have to watch him murder the world, to finally free himself from the politics and feelings of duty to Heaven (which he’s since essentially declared his loyalty first to the Winchesters over and above Heaven… telling Kelvin to his face that he’s not doing any of this for any sort of redemption in Heaven, he doesn’t even care about that anymore, and referring to the Winchesters as his “family” and the other angels as his “men”). Cas has dissociated HIMSELF from Heaven of his own free will. To his way of thinking, using that grace to save Dean from an eternity of torment was merely a side benefit, you know?

I think we’re approaching this from two fundamentally different basic assumptions about Castiel. I’m not certain if there’s anything I can say that will help you see it from another angle here… but folks keep asking, so I’ll keep trying…

I started writing a thesis (I’m calling it that because it’s gonna be long, and structured like a doctoral dissertation. Hell, I might even write an abstract… it’s gonna be involved) on Castiel’s entire character arc as represented through his struggle for agency and free will against the blind obedience to Heaven that has been forcibly reprogrammed into angels who deviate from their orders. This is the lens through which all of Cas’s development has occurred. As for my thesis, it’s currently stalled out because writing deadlines for pinefest demand I work on that first, and I’ve only covered Cas’s first eight episodes out of 100 and already the paper is more than 1k, so clearly it’s gonna take an astounding amount of time that I just don’t have right now for me to actually research and write…

Point is, even in those first eight episodes (4.01, 4.02, 4.03, 4.07, 4.09, 4.10, 4.15, 4.16), this is already his main conflict as a character. Duty and obedience to heaven versus thinking for himself and doing what he personally feels is right. We see him push back against his orders in 4.18 giving Dean information that will help him “defy prophecy” for the first time, and then we see him attempt to make a complete break with Heaven in 4.20 only to be captured and dragged back for “angel boot camp.” When he returns to his vessel, he’s entirely back to Full Obedience Mode as a function of his grace having been tinkered with in Heaven. Anna lampshades just how horrible what was being done to him there really was, just as Dean lampshaded just how unhappy Anna was when she was given no other choice but to take her own grace back on in 4.10. Her free will, her choice to be human was taken away from her and she did “what she had to do.”

Worst. Phrase. On the show. Ever.

In 8.23 Cas may have had his grace taken from him against his will, but he tried to make the best of it. He struggled with his sudden humanity, but by 9.06 he’d made his peace with it.

CASTIEL: No, Dean. (He puts the box on the counter and turns to face DEAN.) I’m not. I failed at being an angel. Everything I ever attempted came out wrong. But here … at least I have a shot at getting things right. I guess you can’t see it, but … there’s a real dignity in what I do – human dignity.

His entire conversation with Ephraim underscores just how he feels now, and truly introduces this question for the first time:

EPHRAIM: Shh-shh-shhh. It’ll be over soon. I’ll take the pain away.CASTIEL: I want to live.EPHRAIM: But as what, Castiel? As an angel? or a man?

(hey lookie there’s my tag for this entire concept…) but then there’s this:

EPHRAIM: You say you want to live. But you can’t see what I see. By choosing a human life, you’ve already given up. You … chose … death.

Because to Ephraim, who it’s been established has NO understanding of human pain, of human emotions at all, ANY pain is something worth killing over. Even a teenage girl being “sorta bummed” about her boyfriend breaking up with her. To him, ANY human emotions were a pain not worth suffering.

Meanwhile Cas had been doing everything in his power to SAVE HIMSELF, attempting to draw a banishing sigil in blood, cutting his hand on the rose thorns, until Dean managed to toss the angel blade to him and he could kill Ephraim before Ephraim killed him. Cas’s will to live was greater than his desire to only live as an angel. Even if he hadn’t fully chosen humanity for himself back then, he had passed step one of the test and chosen life.

This concept is underscored again when Cas describes to Sam why Dean would cling so hard to being a demon in 10.03:

SAM: What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.CASTIEL: Well… I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.

Cas understands, because he’s experienced the same thing… he KNOWS the real joy and profound pain of being human now, and he also knows what it’s like to not be able to feel those things– not because he knows what it’s like to be a demon, but because he believes it’s similar enough to what it feels like being an angel. Now if that’s not horrifying, and if it doesn’t say bucketloads about Cas’s own personal regret about his own “I did what I had to do” moment in 9.09, in stealing Theo’s grace in what amounted to a sacrifice of his OWN humanity in order to save Dean… Tell me if ANY of this sounds like Cas is happy with this non-choice:

CASTIEL (on the phone) : Dean, I don’t have a lot of time, so listen. The leader of the opposition is an angel named Malachi.DEAN: How do you know that?CASTIEL: He had me. I, uh, I was tortured. But I got away.DEAN: How?CASTIEL: I… I did what I had to. I became what they’ve become. A barbarian.DEAN: What are you – Cas, where are you?CASTIEL: It’s better I stay away. They’re gonna want me even more now. But I’m gonna be all right. I… I got my Grace back. Well, not mine per se, but it’ll do.DEAN: Wait, you’re – you’re back? You got your mojo?CASTIEL: I’m not sure. But I am an angel.DEAN: And you’re okay with that?CASTIEL: If we’re going to war, I need to be ready.DEAN: (pause) Cas.CASTIEL: Dean. There’s more.DEAN: What?CASTIEL: Didn’t you say Sam was healed by an angel named Ezekiel?DEAN: Uh… Yeah, why?CASTIEL: Ezekiel is dead.DEAN: What?CASTIEL: He died when the angels fell.DEAN’s face has a very concentrated “oh this is bad” expression.

A VERY CONCENTRATED “OH THIS IS BAD” EXPRESSION

Under torture by Theo, Cas had asked for a quick death, until he heard that Ezekiel had died in the fall, and realized that Dean had trusted Ezekiel to help heal Sam… THIS INFORMATION WAS WORTH DOING “WHAT HE HAD TO DO” just to be sure that Sam and Dean were safe from this unknown angel that HE had personally vouched for… that we’ve just learned is actually Gadreel…

IT’S ALL A HUGE MESS.

To me, Cas’s decision to take on another angel’s grace was just as much of a non-choice as Metatron stealing his original grace had been. And to Cas, WHAT he is doesn’t necessarily matter as much as the fact that HE CHOSE IT FOR HIMSELF.

Every single time he’s done what he had to do, every time his agency’s been taken from him, the vehicle that made it possible was his grace.

He’s been asked over and over again for years if he’s really an angel (and been told to his face by numerous other angels that he ISN’T an angel anymore), he’s been called a tool and told he was only marginally useful… and yet he’s been called Family and welcomed unconditionally by the Winchesters. Mostly because they’re not FORCING him to be anything in particular, you know?

As to your “Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters” from 7.21, I’ve written a lot about Cas’s mental state in late s7 here, which goes a long way to give a fuller context to that line. Out of context, it sounds very different to seeing how it fits with the entire picture of Cas’s late s7 guilt. In a lot of ways, running away from his responsibility (think “I don’t fight I watch the bees” and constantly referring to himself and his actions in the third person, with “An angel brought the Leviathan back into this world, and – and they begged him. They begged him not to do it.”). It took redeeming himself in some small measure by helping to send the Leviathan back to Purgatory in 7.23 for him to even BEGIN to integrate himself again… And then begins his depression/atonement arc that includes his ongoing battle with his own agency via his choice to remain in Purgatory, his complete loss of agency to Naomi, and then Metatron… this has ALWAYS been what has driven and defined Castiel’s narrative, and every bit of character development he’s ever experienced.

And it’s ALWAYS been tied to his identity as an angel and the very existence of his grace. And even HE has said that he doesn’t identify as an angel anymore or feel allied to Heaven, but like Demon Dean clinging to whatever it was that made him a demon because it was easier not to feel that pain, like Soulless Sam desperate to do anything to prevent himself from being reunited with his soul, Cas is still holding on to his grace in a similar way (narratively speaking).

(thing is, once Dean was cured of the Mark and once Sam was reunited with their soul, they were GRATEFUL not to have been left in that unfeeling state, you know? they’ll take the pain, because it beats “being a stepford bitch in paradise.”)

Cas believes he needs his grace to be “useful,” despite already beginning to understand how the Winchesters see him as family. I don’t believe that Cas will be given a “no choice” scenario in which he’ll feel compelled to sacrifice his grace in an emergency situation, as some sort of “throwing himself on a grenade” because he had no other choice. The entire POINT is that it would be his freely-made CHOICE.

No matter WHAT he chooses. I’m not saying he absolutely must give up his grace. I’m saying that every sign and every conflict that’s driven his narrative development over the last 9 seasons has been leading him along this path where eventually he WILL have that choice. And when that time comes, I believe that what he eventually will choose for himself (because he wants it) is to live out a human life with the Winchesters.

I am REALLY looking forward to 13.04, because I think we’re going to gain a LOT of insight into Cas’s current emotional/mental state. And HOW he comes back from his current state of not-aliveness is going to be key to understanding what’s in store for him over the next season. So until then, I’m going to stand by this analysis.