#I was supposed to post this two weeks ago but I'm afraid of rejection | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosaren2498 · 2 years

Text

ALRIGHT! It's time to get this out. I was supposed to do this well over an hour ago, but I got distracted. This is a Moon Knight AU that has been bugging me for over 2 weeks now. Its meant to be a female!Reader but just for the sake of convenience, I gave her a name, as this is just me getting all of it out, not actually writing it.

Caity has known Marc Spector damn near her entire life. She met him through his little brother Randall. She knows how Randall died, she knows all about the abuse Wendy puts him through that Elias turns a blind eye to; she's in a similar situation with her own mother, though not as bad. She even knows about his 12th birthday and knows about Steven, though it took a few years for her to learn exactly what had happened and that Steven wasn't imaginary or anything, but that Marc's mind had fractured due to the abuse, and created two alters, one that identified with the body's name ie Marc, and Steven Grant. She's their best friend, though she keeps Marc a secret from Steven at Marc's request. When Marc ran away as a teen, Caity went with him because her own situation was getting worse.

Now, I read somewhere that in the comics, Jake came into being when they were teenagers, and that it's actually Jake who ran away in the comics, so for this AU, Jake comes into being when they are out on the street. They get in over their heads, and suddenly, Jake's there. I really like the idea of Caity knowing Marc and Steven so well at this point that she knows immediately Jake is neither of them. And despite the blood, and - most likely - dead person or people, she's not afraid of him because he just saved their lives. She looks hin up and down slowly. 'Well, you're not Marc and you're definitely NOT Steven.' Holds out hand and introduces herself 'Thanks for saving our asses, who are you?'

I'm sick of people writing Jake like he's Heath Ledger's Joker. In my mind, he's a freak in the sheets but outside of the bedroom, he's a lot like Ryan's Wade Wilson, just without the 4th Wall Breaks. He fronts the least, obviously, but she still gets to know him over the next 20 or so years. Loves him as much as she loves Marc and Steven, and because she'd literally do anything for them, when Jake asks her not to tell Marc, she agrees; after all, she promised Marc not to tell Steven too. However, she always suggests to both Marc and Jake to tell the truth. Never pushes, just makes sure to gently suggest it when she can. They refuse for the same reason, even if Jake lies. Marc will outright admit that he thinks Steven will hate him and can't bare it. Jake will always tell her that it makes his job easier to just not say anything, but she knows it's because he fears being rejected because he does the things Marc cannot, just like Marc does the things Steven cannot.

I have so much more little things, including a moment where Marc tells Caity that either A) he's going to propose to Layla, or B) he proposed and she said yes. For a split second, Marc sees absolute despair and heartbreak on her face but it's gone so fast he's not sure he actually saw it. She smiles wide and congratulates him. At their wedding, during the reception, she goes to someplace completely alone and has a break down, sobbing her shattered heart out, and when she's done, she fixes her makeup and goes back to the reception like nothing happened. She's hopelessly in love with all 3 of them and they have no idea whatsoever because none of them really believe they deserve it (though for different reasons) so it never occured to them and they don't realize until post-canon, when Jake finally comes clean to Marc and Steven. There's a moment where Marc and Steven are angry with Caity for not telling them, but she just says that 1) it wasn't her secret to tell, and 2) she was keeping her promise to Jake, just like she kept her promise to Marc.

Also, she doesn't agree with Marc leaving Harrow alive. She agrees that Ammit is far too dangerous because she was locked up for 2000 years for trying to essentially commit mass genocide and upon being released, immediately tried to do it again, and definitely killed thousands of people and will very clearly try again, so she tells Marc something like 'You have a choice and I'm so proud of you for making it but if you don't kill them, I just might'

There is so much more swirling in my head but I'll post more after work.

Part 2

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader

37 notes · View notes

jayswritings13 · 3 years

Text

Hazbin: One sided crush with Overlords

Request: "How would the overlords reject someone romantically like they have a friend but the friend have a crush on them and the overlords don't like them back and of course headcanon please:)?" by anon

In Hell and in the human world, even despite the multiple horrible things he's done.

Alastor is known for being a gentleman.

No one could deny that he was charming.

That being said, Alastor is pretty well versed in rejecting others.

"Why are you so good at this?" You ask, cracking a small smile.

"Oh, this isn't the first time rejecting someone, my dear," Alastor said, chuckling, keeping his big smile on his face. "It seems that I have developed quite the following here."

You nodded, vaguely remembering Vaggie or Angel mentioning something like that a few weeks ago.

You were honestly afraid that Alastor was going to avoid you or keep bringing it up, but he didn't entirely do that.

He still does bring it up every now and again in a joking manner, but it doesn't happen all the time.

Valentino is also kind of used to this, but most of the time, everyone kind of knows what they're getting into when they hang around him.

Much to your embarrassment and dismay, every time he does.

Valentino doesn't really care about the feelings of others.

So, don't expect him to really be gentle with yours.

He quite literally laughs in your face when you confess.

"Oh, babe, did you really think that I had feelings for you?"

"Well......uh.....yes," You said, growing less and less confident.

"What gave you that idea?" He chuckled, smirking. "Because you slept with me? Because I let you hang around?"

Silence. You didn't trust yourself to say anything after hearing that, because he was right. You had let yourself believe that he liked you because of all the time you've spent with him.

"You seemed to have forgotten who I am, babe." Valentino said. "Now are we on for tonight or not?" He added, sighing.

Velvet's not sutble about her lack of feelings. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Yes. Still need that," You mumbled, causing Valentino to grin widely.

Velvet probably hinted at it over social media, causing you to talk to her about it.

"Is there a reason why you did a voxtagram story about this?"

"What else am I supposed to post about?" Velvet shrugged.

"Velvet, I'd prefer if this wasn't being seen by everyone in Hell."

"Oh, please. Is that because of your feelings? Everyone thinks that it's sweet."

"Is that how you feel?" You asked, hope swelling inside of your chest.

"Ha! Are you kidding? People eat this shit up! The whole will-they-won't-they thing."

"Soooo, we will....?"

Vox is very well known in Hell for being a huge jackass.

"No. But the followers don't have to know that." Velvet smirked, before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in close, and taking a selfie of you two.

So don't expect anything less really.

Although, Vox probably would be flattered as Hell that you liked him---not that he'd show it.

He's just used to everyone using him as a way to get to Valentino or Velvet.

"I'm sorry what?"

"Are hard of hearing?" Vox sighed, pressing his hand to his tv-head(??)

"I just--"

"I can spell it out again for you, since you really need it." Vox smirked a bit, "I don't like you. No feelings whatsoever."

"I-"

"Sip. Nothing. Nada. Absolutely nothing."

"Thanks. I think that you made that really clear." You said.

Rosie is probably a little gentler than most Overlords when it comes to this.

"Glad that I could help."

But not entirely, after all, she's still an Overlord in Hell.

She still needs to be feared by most of Hell.

"Is this a rejection....?" You asked, furrowing your brows at her.

"Yes." Rosie said, "Why? Is that not the message you're getting?"

"Well.... the flowers are a bit confusing then."

"I thought that it would help."

"NO-I mean, no, I love them Rosie, but I don't think that they scream rejection." You hummed, deep in thought. "Maybe black roses next time....?"

"...Ah. Those would send the right message." Rosie added, "Hopefully, this will be the only time I have to do something like this."

Lucifer and Lilith have had plenty of experience with rejection.

With Rosie's rejection not really feeling like one, it defiantly helped with your friendship, as there was really no awkward phase from that rejection onward.

Lucifer tends to like to draw out the rejection as much as possible, enjoying the look of disappointment and realization on your face.

Lilith much rather prefers a quick and clean rejection. She has no time to keep drawing this ut any further.

In fact, most of Lilith's rejections tend to be letters or texts that she has her assistants send out.

If it happens to be a rejection from both Lilith and Lucifer, they opt to tell you in person, but not draw it out for too long, so that way it's not as impersonal as Lilith would like, but not as sadistic as Lucifer would like.

"So....that's why you wanted to meet me here..?"

"Well, yes. Luci's idea by the way." Lilith said "I'd much rather do it over a text, but well......" Lilith shrugged as Lucifer grinned.

'Face to face is much more fun." Lucifer added.

"...Okay, so does this still mean that I'm, your assistant?" You ask.

"Oh of course," Lilith said, as Lucifer nodded. "We're only rejecting you sexually and romantically, darling. Not professionally. You're probably one of the best assistants we've had for centuries!"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin velvet #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin rosie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith

155 notes · View notes

siimjaeyun · 3 years

Text

good4u- park sunghoon

genre: angst, post break-up au, idol au (ft. seventeen vernon)

tw: none

sour masterlist

-----

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You found a new boy and it only took a couple weeks

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

Yes, it had only been a couple weeks since your break up and Dispatch was already posting pictures of your supposed date with Vernon. He knew the two of you were dating, and it fed his unrealistic expectations when the company rejected it.

And good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself

I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

Now you can be a better partner for your brand new man

Endless nights of holding each other close for comfort clouded his mind. That night after a tiring show caused your nerves to flow endlessly; he said everything was going to be okay. It was, but only for you.

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby

God, I wish that I could do that

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night

Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

Despite his cold appearance, Sunghoon is a vulnerable man. He holds your promise ring in his hand every night in the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and wipes his tears off the ring while staring into the bathroom mirror. Empty eyes and pale skin welcome him; his past self was dead. Meanwhile every time he saw your pictures online, you were glowing with color and life.

Well, good for you, I guess you're gettin' everything you want

You bought a new car and your career's really takin' off

It's like we never even happened

Baby, what the fuck is up with that?

Sunghoon hates the way you treat him like a close friend. His chapter with you wasn't completely closed because you'd always come to talk to him at work. He hates how you welcome him with a smile, asking him about his day, pretending as if he wasn't the man you loved only a few weeks ago.

And good for you, it's like you never even met me

Remember when you swore to God I was the only

Person who ever got you?

Well, screw that and screw you

You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

He knows very well that you're not the one hurting. It's almost been a schedule: you come to his practice room, he asks about your dance practice with your group, and vernon comes to steal you away and take you home. A home you once shared with him.

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby

God, I wish that I could do that

He feels resentment towards you. Why did you treat him like a friend after the way you shattered his heart into fragments?

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night

Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

Sunghoon is good at faking a smile in front of the camera. He's good at faking his emotions but his members know him too well. He hasn't bothered to take off his own promise ring that's hanging by a chain. He hasn't bothered deleting your pictures or storing away your portrait. Why weren't you like him? Why does he always hear about the way you're shining and thriving from staff and group members?

Maybe I'm too emotional

But your apathy's like a wound in salt

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

"Sunghoon! There you are!" The sound of your voice caught him off hand while making his way to the recording studio. With that gorgeous of smile of yours, you handed him a slip of paper wrapped in a purple bow.

"It's an invite to my brother's wedding! He wanted me to give this to you since you're still practically family." Sunghoon takes and keeps quiet, ironic isn't it. How your brother seems to like him more than you.

Maybe I'm too emotional

Your apathy is like a wound in salt

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Sunghoon continues to ponder if you've ever actually been in love with him. He's wondering if he was the reason you never gave up on your dreams to be an idol like you were his.

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby

Like a damn sociopath

Despite whatever advice his members gave, he shows up at your brother's wedding with Jake as his plus one. Everything was going well until the bride threw their bouquet and it landed straight into your and Vernon's hands. Sunghoon is afraid to admit that he saw his future with you. He loves you so damn much that he turns away from the scene to find the nearest exit.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night

Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

Even after the pain you put him through, he still loves you. He wants to think that just maybe you'll get back together with him one day. But let's be honest, you look way too happy with Vernon to make his wish come true.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

------

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #kpop angst #sunghoon angst #sunghoon

40 notes · View notes

koyacyi-vode · 4 years

Text

I'd like to start off by saying I'm sorry. But I have an uncontrollable impulse to be a bastard™️ whenever possible.

---

Headcanon A - realistic:

Dogma does not get along with ARC troopers. Well, he tolerated Echo. But he found the way that ARCs are reckless and independent thinkers to the point of disregarding certain regulations to be negative qualities in a trooper. In fact, if he were recommended for ARC training he most likely would have declined.

Despite Dogma's dislike of ARCs, they actually rather like him for the most part. Because Dogma is a good, pure soldier and has strong convictions and is not afraid of calling out people (with respect to the chain of command). He is a trooper that cares deeply for his brothers and the Republic, he cites regulations and obeys orders because that is what is supposed to keep them all alive.

Headcanon B - while it may not be realistic it is hilarious:

Dogma once got so mad at something Fives did that he legitimately passed out. One minute he's red in the face and about to absolutely throw down and the next moment he's flat on the ground completely unconscious with a broken nose. Fives panics and picks him up and rushes him to the medbay. Dogma refuses to talk about it.

Headcanon C - heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends:

You guys are going to HATE me for this one. But Dogma never sees the 501st again after he is court-martialed following his murder of Krell. Rex goes to his trial and tries to rally for a lighter sentence but regardless of the fact that Krell was a traitor ('circumstantial, anecdotal evidence' the judge would say. the 501st were the only witnesses. there was no hard evidence that Krell betrayed the Republic. only Dogma's blaster bolt through the Besalisk's heart.) But Dogma did kill a General, and that couldn't go unpunished. Rex hugs Dogma one last time before they never see each other again.

But wait, there's more! So I can't imagine that the GAR would want to lock up a perfectly useful clone trooper, that's just a poor investment. What is it that one of Glitch's squadmates said? Even a faulty weapon has its uses in war?

So this is something I saw in a post a while ago but I am fascinated by, but the GAR sends insubordinate troopers to a penal battalion. Usually run by natborn officers who don't care to get to know their troopers. The commanders of these battalions could be leaders of the Republic military before the war transitioned it to the GAR, and many would likely be from long lineages of military families (think like, a bunch of Tarkins). They do not really regard the clone troopers on the same standard as natborns (especially because not only are they clones but faulty clones, they are lower than low on the hierarchy). The atmosphere in these battalions is incredibly different to that of the 501st or 212th or really any battalion that has a General that gives two shits about them.

So Dogma, a physically still very capable soldier, is sent to a penal battalion following his trial. And it is just. The worst. Because he'd just had to live through Krell. Had all of his beliefs and convictions questioned because of Krell. And now it's like he never left.

This is sad enough so I'm not going to say what I think his fate became in this battalion. I'm sure he found friends by need of survival among the other clones sent there. But the penal battalions, for the record, have very high turnover rates for clones.

Headcanon D - unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own:

Because I made myself too sad with that last one, I'll make up for it by saying that against what anyone would have thought possible Dogma deserts. It's around a week after he got word of Tup's death and that was just one thing too much (he forgives all the misgivings and arguments he ever had against Fives after learning how hard Fives tried to save Tup). But he gets his chance on the next mission after a rockfall throws him off a cliff. He survives, picks himself up, and doesn't look back.

#im genuinely sorry for this one i had no idea going in that i would go that dark #dogma makes me big sad by the way. hes overlooked a lot i think but he has a lot of nuance and potential #anyways here's your daily dose of sad from yours truly i'll see myself out #clone trooper dogma #fluff answers

54 notes · View notes

chaoticdean · 4 years

Text

I know when you go down you darkest roads

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Chapter 4 — Personal pillow — Dean POV

Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through couple therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

~ 3.2K

I'm posting earlier than I'm supposed to, mainly because I'm going back to work on Monday and I'm not sure I'm actually gonna be able to update during the day. From here on, chapters will be dropping around Sundays/Mondays depending on my work schedule :)

Next chapter is going to be a bit different since I'm gonna dive into the "Cas side of it all", and I'm really excited for you guys to dive into it!

Also, if you liked the little texts I experimented with during this chapter, just know that they'll be back :)

Okay, MOVING ON. Have a great read, y'all!

— I know the SPNStayAtHome Challenge is over, but thanks to @bend-me-shape-me ; @helianthus21 & @pray4jensen for hosting and getting this story into motion! —

READ ON AO3

(Rebloggable chapter on Tumblr : Part I / Part II / Part III)

Dean’s mind is overwhelmed by approximately a hundred a twenty-five different things — the most prominent being if I had just stayed back there with Cas instead of running to drink my fears away, Stan and Sally would still be here, how surprising that someone has to die for your mistakes again, Winchester — when Mrs. Pritchard catches his arm.

“Dean, I think you should go back to your room and break the news to your husband. I’m almost sure he’s the last person who talked to Stan and Sally, so I’m guessing the cops will come for you both at some point” she says, wiping her face with a tissue.

Dean nods in agreement, suddenly realizing that Castiel isn’t there amongst the group of people standing around in the hallway. Which means he doesn’t know yet.

Great. As if this night could get any worse at this point.

“Okay. Let me get you back to your office first, you look like you’re about to pass out” he says, extending his arms, guiding her out through the hallway.

It takes them a couple of minutes to get there and once Dean is certain the therapist isn’t going to faint, he leaves and makes his way to his bedroom while avoiding the rest of the residents — everyone seems to be out there, except for Cas.

He pushes the bedroom door open, suddenly fearing that Castiel might have left (after all, he wouldn’t blame him at this point), but the angel is right there lying in bed, reading god knows what book he’s managed to get his hands on. And he’s wearing those damn navy pants with Dean’s shirt just like the night before. It’s like a punch in the guts every time Dean just looks at him.

The hunter sighs loudly, somewhat relieved to find him here. The angel cocks an eyebrow at him, tilting his head on the side like he always does.

“You okay?” He asks as Dean drops on the bed, face meeting the pillows in seconds, “I thought you might have left” he adds, and the way his voice breaks at the end make Dean feel even worse.

“I’d never leave you, Cas” he says, raising his face up to watch the angel, “I thought we were passed that?”

“I don’t know, you seemed so angry at me.”

Dean raises on his elbow, watching as Cas lowers his book — “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller, the hunter reads on the cover — his eyes locking-in with the angel’s.

“I wasn’t angry at you, Cas. I was angry at me.”

“Why?” He tilts his head again, and Dean’s heart sink.

“I…” he starts, wondering how he could translate everything into words, then deciding not to, “It doesn’t matter. Something happened, Cas. Stan and Sally…”

Dean doesn’t finish his sentence, letting the rest of it hang in the air until Castiel’s face gets paler as he understands.

“Oh, no… What happened? When?” He asks, tossing his book to the bedside table.

“I don’t know, I was outside talking with Mrs. Pritchard in front of the building and we saw the cops and an ambulance come in so we rushed back inside, and… It was bad, Cas.”

“Did you gather any intel? I thought the Algea only went after couples who had troubles, but Stan and Sally seemed to be the only couple who didn’t have any major problems if you put all their bickering aside.”

“Yeah, and they were killed having.. well, uh. Kinky sex. Which doesn’t fit the M.O. Not the kinky part, just the sex part.”

Cas tilts his head again, this time with a wondering look on his face.

“Kinky?” He asks, looking at Dean without blinking an eye.

Dean can barely contain a massive eye-roll, making Cas’s frown grow even bigger.

“Kinky as in ‘naughty’. Weird, deviant if you will” Dean finally explains.

“How does one have deviant sex?” Cas seriously wonders, and it takes everything in Dean not to burst out laughing. “Maybe we should call Sam in.”

“What, to ask him what he knows about kinky sex?”

This time, Cas rolls his eyes so hard Dean’s slightly afraid the whole world is going to shake, and he can’t suppress his loud laughter at the sight. Castiel returns his wide grin and Dean instantly feels lighter.

He still won’t want you, not today, and not in a million years, Winchester.

“You’re an idiot. I meant we should call him in, tell him what happened and see if there’s anything in the lore about creatures who go after both struggling couples and happy couples having deviant sex” he adds, watching as Dean buries his head back in the pillow with a loud groan.

“I don’t want to call him in, he’s out with Eileen somewhere on the West Coast and quite frankly, he deserves a break.”

“Well quite frankly, so did we. Yet here we are.”

“Aww, Cas. I thought this was our vacation?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“I can say it once more if you want me to.”

“You’re too fucking playful at this time of night, dude.”

“No, I’m not, I'm being realistic.”

Dean smiles into the soft tissue of the bedcover, realizing they got back to their easy banter as if nothing happened. He finally rolls on his side, locking eyes with his partner.

“Do you want to hit the lore?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather go to bed. We don’t have anything before therapy tomorrow at 11, that leaves us enough time to research before” he finishes before yawning hard.

“Okay Rip Van Winkle, let’s get you to bed, alright?” Dean says, getting up on his two feet and grabbing his nightclothes — his old Zeppelin ’73 tour that he’s owned for at least 3 decades, and a pair of black sweatpants matching Cas’s.

“Technically, I’m already in bed…” Cas adds

Dean is very pleased to realize Cas is still watching him while he strips from his day to nightclothes in front of him, completely unbothered. He’s about to ask if he likes what he sees — damn it’s hot seeing Castiel looking at every inch of his skin like this — when the voice in his head slams his thoughts away with a distinctive “you’ll fuck him up too, so just back away and don’t”.

“Okay, FYI, if we’re sleeping together every night until we get through this case, I’m using you as my personal pillow,” Dean says with a sigh as he drops on the bed, “D’you mind?”

He slips under the covers, almost praying for Cas to say something along the lines of “Yes, please fucking use me”, or more realistically something resembling a simple “yes”. But suddenly Castiel is right there inside his personal space, his scent everywhere around Dean as he pushes him back into the mattress and presses his whole body against him.

“I don’t mind, but I’d rather have you as my personal pillow than the other way around,” he says, dropping his head in the crook of the hunter’s neck just like the night before, “do you mind?”

Ah, that playful tone again. Dean could almost sigh in content at the feeling of deep satisfaction the whole thing gives him.

“I don’t mind, babe,” he says, brushing a light kiss on Castiel’s forehead as his arm gently closes around his waist, bringing him even closer.

He told you not to call him babe, why are you even trying?

Castiel pulls even closer, his nose brushing against Dean’s skin on his throat while the hunter extends an arm, turning off the lights.

“You know, at some point, we’re gonna have to talk about the fact that you’re sleeping a lot more lately, or how you need coffee in the morning and meals more often” Dean adds, his arm coming back around the angel’s waist, settling in against his back.

Most of the time, Dean tries not to dwell on it too much. Whenever Castiel would be ready to assess this, he’ll be here waiting. But it was becoming an almost daily situation, with Cas falling asleep almost every night for a couple of weeks now, and the coffee situation started almost 2 months ago.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready to talk about why you were so angry at yourself you chose to literally run away from me and this room instead of talking to me, we can talk about it” the Angel mutters against Dean’s neck, the warmth of his breath giving Dean goosebumps.

“Yeah, okay” he sighs, rolling his eyes in the darkness of the room, “you’ve made your point.”

I’ve been in love with you for more than a decade and I don’t think I can survive the look on your face when you ultimately reject me.

Kissing you, calling you “babe” and being your husband all day gives me a sense of happiness, but happiness is always a lie, it gets people killed.

I’m terrified of what I feel, and I’m terrified of losing you if you ever find out how I feel. That’s why I always run when it gets too complicated to keep it inside.

Because it doesn’t matter how it hurts to keep this to myself if I get to spend a few more moments by your side. That’s why I run. That’s why I keep running away from you.

But of course, this all stays inside.

“I’m serious, Dean. This is exactly what we talked about in therapy today —“

“Cas, it’s an undercover case, it’s not like we’re really going through therapy” Dean interrupts him, and immediately feels Castiel tense up against him.

“So what? Our issues are real, even if we’re not the lovely Cartellones. You’re always doing that” he almost growls, obviously fed up by Dean’s assessment.

“What?”

“Whenever you’re angry at something you always decide that it’s best to move away from the people who love you and brood in a corner by yourself without telling anyone what’s really bothering you. It’s infuriating, Dean.”

“It’s just the way I am.”

“Well, like I already said, just because you’re that way doesn’t mean you can’t change.”

“This is just my way of coping, Cas. I don’t know how to do that without storming away from everything.”

“Well, it hurts the people around you when you do it. It hurts Sam. It hurts Jack. And it hurts me, most of the time, even if I do understand why you do it.”

Dean’s heart crushes at the single thought of hurting Cas. He’s not oblivious to the fact that he hurt him before, and he still hates himself for it. But having Castiel lying tightly against him, his low voice resonating inside his throat where his lips are almost pressed up, saying to his face that he keeps on hurting him… That’s another level.

“I’m sorry. I never mean to hurt you” he says, his eyes closing on impact.

“I know you don’t. So change. Talk to me. To Sam. To Jack. Hell, to anyone. Stop pushing people away.”

“It’s easier said than done, Cas.”

“Just give it a try. For me.”

Dean swallows hard at the thought of actually telling Castiel why he ran away earlier, when the angel’s hand finds its way under Dean’s shirt and he starts stroking the skin of his back almost absently. If he wasn’t so self-conscious right now, the hunter is almost sure his starved-touch self would moan disgracefully at the single touch of Cas’s fingertips along his skin.

The hunter sighs in content instead, Castiel’s head finding its rightful place and settling in the warmth of his neck. There’s newfound confidence and some drops of bravery left in Dean when he actually stretches his left arm out and cards his fingers gently inside Castiel’s hair.

When he groans in content, Dean could swear the shiver that goes through his entire body could light up Antarctica.

“We should do that more often,” Cas says, his voice drowsy like he’s minutes away from drifting off into sleep.

“What? Talking?”

“Cuddling. Sleeping together. Kissing.”

Wait.. what?

“You’d wanna do that… more often?” He asks warily, not wanting to jump to conclusion too fast here and get his heart smashed into pieces, “With me?”

“Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Hold on, let me pull up a quick list for you here: hum, everyone? I’m a lost cause, Cas. I’m not worth it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, babe,” he says, placing a soft kiss on Dean’s jawline, his lips brushing against the light stubble of his cheek, “you deserve everything. All of it.”

Suddenly it’s like Dean can’t breathe anymore. It takes him almost a minute to recover, and by then the angel’s slow breathing indicates that he’s already fallen asleep, despite Dean’s heart thundering like crazy right there where he’s lying against him.

Dean’s hand is still inside Castiel’s hair, and he keeps on softly stroking it as he watches him sleep, the dull light of the moon illuminating the angel’s features in the dark.

It’s actually insane how beautiful he looks. The way the white soft light caresses the line of his jaw, the stubble that grew on his cheek looking even more magnificent by the minute.

“I love you” he murmurs into the dark, well aware of all the implications these three little words bring, and taking advantage of Cas being asleep to say them before drifting into sleep moments later, “I love you so much, for so long already. I just wish I wasn’t this person, that way I wouldn’t fuck you up. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk losing you.”

His arms tighten around the angel, and he drops a soft kiss against Cas’s hair. The last thing he remembers before giving up to sleep is thinking he could have so much more if he only stopped hating himself so much.

When Dean awakes the next morning, the sun is filling the room and the first thing he feels is cold.

He extends an arm already searching for Castiel but only meets cold sheets and an empty bed. He opens his eyes, groaning as the light attacks his iris, quickly assessing that the room is empty except for him.

There’s a pit in his stomach as he sits up and reaches for his phone, and he kinds of hate himself at the bitterness he can already feel inside his throat.

What if he left? What if he doesn’t remember what he said last night? What if he doesn’t want to talk about it because he figured out how fucked up it would be?

The screen lights up and tells him it’s 8 am already. There’s a text from Sam asking if they’re okay and how the case is going, a couple from Jack rambling about the superhero hole he dived into while they’re away, but nothing from Cas. Dean quickly texts him, hoping to have an answer that suppresses this uncomfortable feeling inside of him. And sure enough, his phone beeps half a minute later.

Dean sighs in relief, dropping back on the mattress. He lingers for a moment, his face pressed up against the pillows. Cas’s scent is everywhere, and no matter how hard he tells himself he’s such a cliché about this, it really does wonder on his mood.

Cas said he liked kissing him.

Cas said they should do it more often.

He’s still not sure he really believes it, but it still makes him giddy inside.

You’re not a schoolgirl, Winchester. That was probably just your head talking to yourself. No way Castiel could want that with you.

When Castiel finally appears 20 minutes later with a box of donuts in one hand and two cups of coffee in the other, sporting a brand new light blue shirt — I swear to God I will kill you for making me endure this, Sammy — Dean is buttoning his own very new emerald shirt while whistling to Led Zeppelin.

“You’re in a good mood,” Castiel says, putting down the box and one cup of coffee for Dean to drink on his bedside table.

“Do I detect a surprised tone in your voice?” Dean answers playfully, opening the donuts box like it’s going to disappear.

“Well, you’re usually pretty grumpy until you’ve gotten your first coffee.”

Dean rolls his eyes at him, shoving half a donut inside his mouth. Castiel is still watching him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Dean can’t help but notice how good that new shade of blue suits him, and he mentally smacks himself for it.

“So, did you find out anything useful?”

“Sort of. I still think we’re hunting an Algea, but I found out that they like to kill couples while they’re having sex. Something about the taste being sweeter, according to the books I’ve found.”

“Fucking great” Dean mutters, finishing his coffee, “So they just kill them while they’re getting some sweet time just because they taste better if they do? Silver still kills it though, nothing wrong in your book about that?”

Cas nods, watching as Dean comes closer. He reaches for his collar with a smile, unbuttoning the shirt further down a little. The angel looks at him with a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Nothing, I just think you look better when it’s unbuttoned a bit more, just like that.”

Pleased with his work, Dean uses the last drops of bravery he has left and reaches for Cas’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the angel’s cheekbone with a light touch.

And immediately senses Castiel tense up, as he crosses his arms across his chest while averting Dean’s gaze.

Well, if Dean had been looking for any kind of answer, he’d guess that would be it.

What the fuck did you expect, Winchester? I’ve been telling you for two days, and over a decade: he doesn’t want you. Isn’t that enough for you to finally believe me?

He removes his hand as quickly as if he’d been burned, and immediately back off, dropping on the edge of the bed to supposedly puts his boots on — it’s a very practical position to avoid looking at Cas and right now, looking at Cas to see the colors of rejection and disgust painted on his face is pretty much the last thing he wants to do.

“I’ll just… Meet me in the common room when you’re ready, alright?”

Castiel’s voice dropped a tone, like it does when he’s uncomfortable or doubtful. When Dean raises his head to watch him leave, he gets a glimpse at the sadness in the angel’s eyes right before the bedroom door slams shut and he’s left alone.

The emptiness he feels growing inside himself is perhaps even worse than the rising pain.

25 notes · View notes

scottyallenw · 4 years

Text

𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙉 𝙄𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙐𝙍𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙊𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙂𝙍𝙊𝙒 𝘼 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍

(2,219 words)

Not long ago a female member of my extended family posted on social media the claim that President Trump fits the definition of a demagogue perfectly. I know that God has anointed Trump to shake up the Washington establishment, remove trade barriers, ignite political firestorms and prosecute widespread corruption. So I reacted angrily to the post. Fired up, I immediately typed the following comment on her post:

“Yes, Yeshua HaMashiach (Jesus the Christ) fits the definition perfectly. He went out of his way to piss off a large portion of the populace, sorry ass religious leaders, lawyers and politicians. Yeshua knew what he was doing; he knew what his enemies would do. The rest is history: the Roman proconsul, afraid of a large angry mob, turned Yeshua over to his soldiers for execution. Then he washed his hands of the whole thing. Today we have a President who like Yeshua is taking a wrecking ball to the political establishment, hurting people’s feelings and with his Twitter feed exposing hypocrisy. In my opinion we need more people like Yeshua and Trump, turning the world upside down.”

Shortly after this, the woman deleted my comment. I was saddened, and asked myself if I was too brutal. But no, it is the truth that is brutal. Having thought it over, I had no remorse.

But does Scripture reveal Yeshua's true character? Absolutely. Yet Yeshua is widely misunderstood to be simply an easygoing advocate of love and peace, making no demands of His followers. My reading of the gospels recognizes a Yeshua not only with a prickly side, but a Messiah with a fighting spirit. His actions and remarks often cut into the hearts of His adversaries. He was and still is a soldier in a war against hypocrisy. Some day Mashiach will return and put the wicked out of business. But I'm sure the Master would prefer His people finish the job first.

To properly appraise Yeshua's character one must study the man in action. Consider the following account in Luke 6 where Yeshua encounters on the Sabbath a man whose hand is withered. He wants to heal the man, but He also notices scholars and Pharisees nearby hoping to accuse Him of working on Shabbat.

Yeshua defiantly leads the man to a place where everyone, but especially His potential accusers, can get a good look. Yeshua asks the man a question that He really intends for the ears of the religious leaders:

“What is correct on Shabbat: to cause good or to cause harm? To rescue life, or to harm?” Yeshua “looked around intently at all of them,” before healing the man.

The scholars and Pharisees “were wild with rage...” It is exactly the reaction Yeshua intended to incite. Perhaps Yeshua even relished the anger directed at Him. He knew they would plot His crucifixion. With the Shabbat healing He had handed them as it were the hammer and nails to do the job. But He also knew His time had not yet come, and so He slipped away through the crowd.

John 6 relates an episode that epitomizes the notion that Yeshua, like Trump, was born to offend. It involves a vast crowd which has grown about Yeshua during a series of the Master’s signs and miraculous healings. Yeshua understands that most of the new followers are fake. The masses care only about the spectacle of signs and wonders. They also want to declare Yeshua King. They lack any interest whatsoever in obeying His commands or hearing His interpretation of the Torah.

Yeshua conceives a shrewd plan to thin the crowds. He recognizes that Jewish familiarity with Torah is widespread, particularly its prohibition against consuming blood and human flesh. This is abhorrent to all Judeans. So Yeshua turns to the crowd and makes this startling declaration:

“Amen, amen, I say to you, if you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do not have life within you.”

The people are stunned by HaMashiach’s words and begin to murmur. Yeshua’s assertion strikes many as repugnant, and even the Master’s close followers are confused. The crowd begins to disperse. As Yeshua fully expected, little more than the core group of 12 disciples are left. Unlike many 21st century mega church pastors, Yeshua is less interested in numbers than in devotion. By deliberately offending the masses, Yeshua is left only with the loyal few.

Matthew 23 describes another public demonstration of Yeshua's remarkable choice of words: it involves the Messiah’s fiery confrontation in the Holy City with His favorite target audience—hypocritical religious leaders. The passage is popularly known as the Eight Woes. Most Christian translations quote Yeshua’s string of rebukes with these words: “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, because you...”

The original language of the New Testament is widely understood to be Greek. However scholars now believe the book of Matthew was originally written in Hebrew, and early manuscripts are being studied. The original language of Luke is also believed to be Hebrew and some scholars believe the entire New Testament was originally written in Hebrew.

A few years ago I was seated among a Grand Rapids, MI, congregation whose senior pastor had a background in Hebrew studies. The pastor explained what he regarded as a more accurate rendering of the Eight Woes passage. Yeshua's words are commonly translated from the Greek, “Woe to you...” Properly translated from Hebrew, Yeshua actually said, “GOD DAMN YOU, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites...,” (emphasis added). The pastor’s congregation was stunned by the language, as was I. The fighting words Yeshua used permanently altered my perception of the risen Savior.

Now imagine if you will a society in which ancient truths and assumptions once thought to be self-evident, are questioned and finally tossed aside. This of course is not hard to imagine; it is the current state of American society. Its citizens are told a man can be a wife, a woman can be a husband. and a man can bear a child.. Americans are even told an OB-GYN can treat a person with male genitalia—assertions which only decades ago would be thought absurd.. Such reckless claims are now accepted by a majority as fact!

The United States Declaration of Independence states: We hold these truths to be self-evident... Will these once-cherished convictions be among the next batch of truths to come under attack, and finally discarded?

The following few paragraphs will hopefully add clarity to what is at stake. High school geometry students are taught they must accept certain common sense assumptions on which to build a mathematical framework of theorems. Each of these are proved by a chain of reasoning. For example, students will readily accept the claim that two parallel lines will never intersect, even if the lines extend towards infinity. Widespread rejection of this common sense assumption would make the teaching of traditional geometry impossible.

College mathematics offers students a different perspective of not only geometry, but the nature of truth. A course called abstract geometry is built on a set of counterintuitive assumptions. To pass this course students must for several hours each week discard all notions of common sense. One proposition in this mathematical model is that two parallel lines will always intersect as they extend to infinity. If this is assumed along with other absurd truths, an entire universe of theorems can be proven. It works beautifully. I enjoyed the course. But after final exams we students set aside this nonsense and rejoined the real world. We realized abstract geometry is just mental acrobatics. It can't work in a functioning society. Could the Mackinac Bridge in Michigan have been built using this kind of math?

Abstract geometry is a type of an Orwellian world. It is similar to what our own society is becoming. Highly educated and experienced jurists have in recent decades rejected the bedrock truths of Mount Sinai in favor of new ideas that now enjoy widespread public acceptance. From the legalization of sodomy, these judges concluded by a chain of reasoning that same-sex marriage is a constitutional right. From the assumption that a human fetus is not a person, jurists rule abortion is a constitutional right. It's all perfect logic, but the proofs are based on false assumptions. Consider the following scripture:

“You shall not move your neighbor's boundary mark, which the ancestors have set...” (Deuteronomy 19:14)

Jewish sages explained long ago that this admonition has a metaphorical meaning in addition to its literal interpretation. It is a warning to elders and jurists: never overturn principles that have been widely accepted and have governed society for centuries, let alone millennia. One by one the courts have within less than an average human lifespan, torn down many of America's boundary markers.

Local school boards in California are already mandating indoctrination of children in Islamic and LGBT ideologies. Boys of believing parents possibly will be taught using artificial body parts how to sodomize another male. Officials are also talking about forcing believing parents who homeschool their children to do the same.

It's time for the Church to flex spiritual muscle. Our model is the biblical accounts of the Master Himself. Yeshua never allowed adversaries to force Him into a defensive posture. He stayed on offense. When accused, Yeshua responded with on-target scripture, a clever parable or pointed questions. He was unafraid to follow up with accusations of His own.

We live in an age when the ACLU regularly sues conservatives, Christian cake makers and flower arrangers for supposed anti-LGBT bias or religious expression in the public square. The Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) for the same reason puts churches and other religious organizations on its well-circulated list of hate groups. Both of these organizations want the public to believe they stand for justice, civil rights and goodness. In reality these are wicked people who are relentless, full of hate and attempting to oppose the Church's every positive move in America.

Why is it the ACLU and SPLC rarely get sued? It's time for the Church to fight back. Let's force the enemy onto the defensive for a change. For that we need generous believers who have money, lots of it. It's time for wealthy believers in Yeshua to step up. The Church needs its own version of George Soros.

“No one would remember the Good Samaritan if he'd only had good intentions; he had money as well,” Margaret Thatcher (the Iron Lady) said years ago.

While big money is needed, the most important battles will involve our own interactions with others, especially on social media. Many of our best soldiers regularly get kicked off these platforms. Others suffer more serious consequences for standing on God's Word.

Ruach HaKodesh (the Holy Spirit) will give us just the right words to powerfully respond to enemy attacks. I was seated once again years ago with that Grand Rapids congregation listening to the same pastor. This time he read the English translation of an ancient Roman court transcript from the time of the early Church. This was a time when the Roman Empire clamped down ruthlessly on the Church, putting many believers to death.

The case involved one of the believers in Yeshua whom the Romans placed on trial for his faith. The man knew the Romans were about to sentence him to death. He addressed the judge and prosecutor with chilling words that brought his modern listeners back nearly two millennia. It was like we were in that courtroom with him. The brave man’s statement, as recorded on the transcript, went something like this:

“A time will come when you will be sorry for what you have done here today. Both of you will stand in a courtroom much like this one. You will be on trial for your lives before a prosecutor and judge, just as I am today. And standing off to the side you will see me, quite alive and well. I will be there to testify against the both of you.”

In his six-volume memoir of the Second World War, the former British prime minister Winston Churchill recalls the dark days of Germany’s relentless bombing campaign against London and other large cities. For an extended period early in the war the cities were all but defenseless, there being no anti-aircraft weaponry available. But eventually large numbers of anti-aircraft

guns were placed throughout the populated areas. War-weary British citizens huddling in bomb shelters heard not only the explosions of German bombs—they were exhilarated by the overpowering blasts of countless heavy guns firing back at the German bombers. The knowledge they were finally fighting back against their merciless enemy did wonders for British moral, and contributed to bringing about eventual victory.

Is the Church up to the task of confronting the forces of evil in America? Will the job require a leader in the mold of Churchill? My choice rather would be a great spiritual leader in the mold of Yeshua Himself. We must view the conflict as Churchill early on wanted his people to view the Nazi threat looming just across the English Channel: “regard the menace of invasion with a steady gaze.” ##

* 𝙔𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙙

1 note · View note