Lacrimosa (Endverse!Cas)He was rarely sober these days. Drugs helped him to pretend he was happy, and absinthe clouded his mind enough to forget, just for a few hours, how distant Dean grew from him. This was no longer the Dean he knew, this was a stranger who despised him - probably rightfully - and never realized it was his coldness that pushed Castiel on this path.
His Dean would have cared. His Dean would have yelled his head off and beaten him up to drag him out of this, but the soldier was long past caring. At first, Cas tried drugs out of curiosity, then out of despair. Everything went wrong, long before Sam gave in to Lucifer. That was just the last straw. He played the merry hippie and fucked anyone who was willing, but everything he did was a cry for help. In the beginning he hoped Dean would understand it. But by now he knew something broke between them and couldn't be fixed. Now he only kept up with it because drugs gave him wonderful visions - visions where Dean was still his old self, Sam
The Wolf Dragon, Part 3 (closing)BOWEN
When the Lord Commander stepped forth in the light, they all saw the sigil on his armor, made of rubies and milk-white pearls: a dragon and a direwolf, embracing.
Ghost jumped at his master and the Lord Commander embraced him, burying his hands in his white fur.
"Thank you, friend" he said.
Now that they saw the animal greet him just as he did when he was alive, some of the men seemed less scared, although they still kept a safe distance. The red lady just stared at Jon Snow as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
It was the king who spoke up.
"Fear him not" Stannis said and he stepped closer to Jon. "He's just as alive as you or me."
The boy not, not a boy anymore, Bowen thought looked into the king's eyes for a long moment. "So it was a lie after all."
"It takes a better man than Bolton's rabid dog to kill me."
"I was trapped in Ghost. I do not know how fire could bring me back" the Lord Commander said. "Is this some sort of sorcery?" He glanced at Melisandre but she
Last BattleIt is pouring and the sky is dark ever since the wolves swallowed the sun.
They circle each other among pools, soaked to the bone, their cloaks heavy with water. Loki holds Gungnir, but it feels alien in his hands. It is not his and it will never serve him, no matter how powerful he is.
This is the end and they both know it. The nine worlds are in ruins now, men and gods and frost giants and the people of Niflheim have bled and slaughtered one another. Odin is dead, and so is Fenrir. Heimdall fell protecting the Rainbow Bridge, but it is all crushed now. And it was Loki and his children and minions who brought all this destruction. And he hasn't achieved anything. He doesn't belong anywhere and the pain that has been with him ever since he found out his heritage never went away.
Nothing remains, only him and Thor, fighting to the death among the ruins of Asgard, in the rain that will maybe bring a new beginning. But not for them. They belong to the old world.
Lies. All he k