Latest Posts by feathersatwar - Page 2

Rely On Time

Wherein I'm a whore for Jewish Bucky Barnes and love writing things inspired by religions and myths.

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2023

Bucky had never truly felt alone in the world.

Of course, as the Winter Soldier, he hadn't had much of a consciousness to even consider that idea. Even when he was in Azzano, he had his men. Strapped to Zola's table in experimentation, the idea of being alone hadn't mattered so much, knowing he would be dead. Before the war, he had Steve.

Steve.

Fastened to his side, Steve had always been there. It had been a month, and he still couldn't believe it. That he would leave so easily, after all they had gone through. But that was just it, wasn't it? Steve had time taken away from him, had his freedom stripped under the stripes of that shield in an attempt to fight for the freedoms of others. Of course he would choose to go back for a second chance.

Bucky didn't have that option.

Eve was her own being, her own thoughts. Though fashioned from Adam's rib, she was not him. Her own desire lived within her and the snake knew it. But why is that a sin? The pursuit of Knowledge in the name of growth, even at the risk of disobeying God? Could it have been what He intended all along? He planted the Tree, he created the snake, he fashioned humanity knowing they would question it all - all for humankind to learn and grow, to plant their roots alongside the Tree.

He wondered, sometimes, what he was. Was he a collection of thoughts? Are people only the recollections of times past? He walked as living proof of not only a time that no longer was, but the strength of a people who lived despite all odds.

Despite all odds.

Was that all it was? Random chance? Did he ever fight anything? No choice but to accept the draft. Too sick to fight Zola back, barely lucid enough to keep himself from biting off his tongue. The chair, the abuse, was that all some twisted fate that he had to live through because it was meant to happen? Did all that happen so he could be where he was now, laying on cold hardwood floor because he was falling through his bed?

Could he rely on time, when it was ripped from him?

He sometimes thought about what his life could've ended up like, if he hadn't gone to war. He thought, at one point, that he would get married. As Adam and Eve wed under the Tree, he could stand under the chuppah in their image surrounded by love and life and foliage. Sometimes he thought about what it could be now, if things somehow got better. If he could sleep in his bed without drowning. If he could look a man in the eye and not see his ancestors instead.

Could he be a shadow?

Something that varies, melding and changing. If he was made of memories, what would happen if he forgot again? Hands of Esau but Voice of Jacob. Was he now building to the divine Israel? Making up for his wrongs, turning to virtue.

Was it worth it? Trying?

At this point, what could be good? What all could he love? Everything was a mess. He wandered.

Maybe he was meant to be lost. He could choose to believe he was worthless, aimless without his other half. Or he could make his own choices; eat the apple like Eve, take the virtue like Israel, and trust that someday, everything that happened to him would make sense.

And that one day, he could trust that he wouldn't ever be alone again.

filtering down ao3 results from 14000 to 6 based on a single tag is foul. im sorry none of you are as enlightened as me ig.

Essays for my Destiel Playlist Pt.1

Turning Page - Sleeping At Last

Turning Page is literally my #1 Destiel Anthem. It's a crime to humanity that I haven't seen it respected as such. In this essay, I will argue my points for your consideration.

If you'd like to view my full Destiel playlist, I've tagged it at the end of this post. I add to it frequently and it has a mix of many genres. I'm actually very proud of it.

Turning Page is pining, yearning, learning. It's so effortlessly deep, just like Dean and Cas are.

There is magnitude to everything he says.

Everything he could ever tell Dean about this cosmic thing, because isn't that what it is?

Cosmic love?

Defying the will of God,

fallen from grace for it,

dragged down by it,

death-abating love?

I've waited a hundred years

But I'd wait a million more for you

Never since the dawn of creation had he ever truly felt a thing

He was never meant to, never coded and programmed for it

Nothing would ever come close, he knew

He thought -

Dean Winchester was raised as Castiel was dragged down,

eye for an eye

He had noticed the change in himself,

the doubts he had never dared to even think suddenly clouding his judgement,

things he knew he could only ever confess to Dean

How was he, forever unfeeling, supposed to know that looking into Dean's soul would burn through the lies?

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

How could he ever turn back from that?

From this?

This human being that chose other people over himself every chance he had,

that gave up his childhood for his brother

This man that was more than what his father molded him to be, just like he was himself

So he watched him

Noticing intimate details he had never noticed on another person before,

dragging in thoughts he had never had,

these emotions he was never supposed to feel

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch

But what was doubt compared to Dean's hand on his shoulder? Slung over his back?

If I had only seen how you smile when you blush

How could his fear compare?

Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

How could anything compare to how he felt when Dean smiled?

Under that direct hit of light, so bright he couldn't help but return it,

he made his choice

I would have known what I was living for all along

What I've been living for

So he fell

Your love is my turning page

Where only the sweetest words remain

Into humanity,

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

Embracing the earth,

I surrender who I've been for who you are

For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart

The light of Heaven was no match for the sunshine in Dean's smile

No match for the individuality of mortality,

No match for the feeling of family,

love that he had never understood or known,

even if the piece he wished he had wasn't meant to be

If I had only felt how it feels to be yours

It was never planned, never written

Out of thousands of drafts, his love for Dean Winchester only existed in one

Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along

What I've been living for

This cosmic thing

Though we're tethered to the story we must tell

When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well

strong enough to defy the Will of God,

With a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas

won't get a happy ending

Like a feather, bringing kingdoms to their knees

but it will forever be his and only his

Ok so. "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" Was fucking heartbreaking, right; we have the full-on uninterrupted eye contact, the head tilt, Dean's already open mouth twitching before the scene cuts to Cas' "I love you," like he had more to say, but Cas beats him to the punch. It's great, we love that. But for the dialogue to be sequenced that way, and to have Dean reply with, "don't do this, Cas."

I'm only just realizing how fucking insane it was. And sure, I might just be coping here, at the end of the day who fucking knows, but look at it. Think about it. Now let yourself feel it all over again.

It's Dean's death knocking on the door behind Cas, and it's Cas' death emerging behind Dean. Like this, they're directly facing their own demise—but they're too stuck on each other, in their moment, to give a damn. And then Dean doesn't say, "I love you too." He says, "don't do this."

He isn't disgusted or ashamed or put off in the slightest by Cas' confession, because if he is then why is he on the verge of tears? In what world would it make sense for him to want to cry after his best friend confessed to him, if the confession was something he did not want. He says don't do this here, don't do this to me now.

Even if, and that's the most unlikely if to ever exist, Dean did not reciprocate Cas' feelings—don't do this is still so fucking powerful. Because Dean's connected the dots, happiness [...] is in just saying it, and Cas said it, so where does that lead Dean? That's right, with Cas dead again, trying to save him again.

Don't do this. Don't die for me, don't love me only to die for me, don't love me at all, just stay with me.

Don't let me watch you die again and not even let me follow you—because, at the very least, that was a consolation. She's gonna kill you, which Dean knows that Billie knows will hurt him more than his own death, and then she's gonna kill me.

"Don't do this," was actually so fucking powerful, I don't know how it slipped past me until now...