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#and i picked back up that idea i had of purgatory not having any living animals but being filled with dead ones
roxyandelsewhere · 1 year
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In honor of the two year anniversary of Nov 5, here's Dean and Cas in Purgatory.
inprnt | society6 | redbubble | ko-fi
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talesofadragon · 10 months
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𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬
Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.  
Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 3.3K
Chapter 2 - Morally Gray | Varicolored Schemes Masterlist
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𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 god’s hell on earth. 
Back in college, Y/N had to take a mandatory liberal arts elective. And up to this day, she still doesn’t understand why it’s called that when she didn’t elect to take it. Her professor at the time had the stupendous idea to focus on Renaissance drama as if this was the single most enthralling subject for a bunch of twenty-year-olds. 
While her memory retained nothing besides the fact that most of William Shakespeare's characters were speculated to be queer and The Spanish Tragedy seldom had an interesting plotline, she now recalled one particular quote she didn't know she remembered: "Hell's empty and all the devils are here."
Oh, William. Something true did come out of his mouth. 
"You look like someone murdered your cat," Yelena remarked as soon as Y/N stepped into her line of sight. The closer Y/N got to Yelena, the more prominent the scowl on the blonde’s face became.
Y/N glared at her best friend, throwing her bag harshly onto the coffee table, followed by her drenched notebook and coffee tumbler. Yelena's green eyes fixated on the chaotic mess, only momentarily straying when Y/N completed the picture with a heavy thud as she unceremoniously took a seat.
“Coffee,” she managed to let out. Yelena extended one of the cups to her side, but Y/N swatted it away in favor of the taller one. “You take the small one. I’m in urgent need of a pick-me-up.” 
Yelena arched her brow, pointing at the cup inches away from Y/N’s lips. “It’s a Nitro Cold Brew.” 
“Don’t care.” 
“You’ve never ordered it before.”
Y/N shrugged, taking her first sip. “I’m open to trying new things.” 
“Do you know how many shots of espresso are in there?” Yelena’s tone was borderline incredulous. Y/N didn’t care.
“Maybe I need the kick.” 
“It’s espresso, Y/N,” Yelena grumbled. She glanced at the discarded pumpkin-spice latte she had grabbed for her best friend, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of having to drink it herself. “It’s not tequila.” 
A loud huff reverberated across the back of the coffee shop they were sitting in. It was ludicrous of Y/N to think that her day would get any better with a cup of coffee when that horrendous drink made her want to empty her stomach. 
Begrudgingly, she slid the drink back to Yelena and snatched her own. “I’ve had a terrible day.” 
“You don’t say.” 
“Scratch that. A terrible week. And a half!” 
“What happened this time?” Yelena carefully asked. 
Inadvertently, Y/N’s brain decided it was more than adequate to remind her about the tragedies of the past week and a half. At first, it started alright. Great even. She didn't drink much when she went to Purgatory, so she woke up the next day without a single tingle in her head. Her day went about alright, and she even told Yelena—albeit briefly, given the hangover her best friend sported—about her interaction with Steve. 
That day was pretty uneventful, and so was the next one. But then, it was as though the floodgates of hell had opened, and Lucifer had prophesied her as the Chosen One, destined to endure the ultimate suffering.
Between a car splashing her with mud and having her get to her meeting looking and smelling like Ron Weasley’s great aunt Tessie, someone leaving a dent on her precious car, and a teenager in a Spider-Man mask trying to rob her only to throw her back her money and take her favorite purse... let’s just say she didn’t want to take a trek down that particular memory lane. 
“An old woman stole my umbrella.” 
And as if her being drenched from head to toe didn’t suffice, Yelena had to spit her espresso-loaded coffee directly on her juniper green shirt. Thank God she wasn’t wearing white this time. 
“I’m sorry, птичка,” Yelena enunciated in between chuckles. “I thought you said an old woman, who is supposed to be much less nimble than yourself, stole your umbrella.” 
“Laugh all you want, Yelena. But that woman was like a fucking torpedo when I told her I could only help her cross the street because the coffee shop was on the opposite side of wherever she had to go!” 
“Savage,” Yelena commented. Suddenly, and in a very uncharacteristic manner, she turned quiet. As Y/N sipped on her coffee, her eyes flicked up to catch her best friend’s pensive expression. She was tapping her fingers against the plastic coffee cup with her gaze idle on the rain. 
“What’s wrong?” 
There was silence at first, followed by a loud exhale. Then, after ten more seconds, Yelena placed her elbows on the table, shifting her body forward. “I have to tell you something.” 
“Oh no!” Y/N vigorously shook her head. “Don’t make my week even worse. Please.” 
Yelena's eyes held a rare empathy, a sight that Y/N seldom witnessed. It was evident that the forthcoming words were about to unveil something dreadful. Y/N just knew it. 
“Baron Zemo, the Sokovian investor I told you about, called me today. He wants to talk about the Red Room.” 
Y/N blinked twice. The despair she felt evaporated, replaced by a much more joyful sensation. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed, fully aware of the immense effort her best friend had put into creating the Red Room—a local dance studio that nurtured young girls' passion for dance.
But Yelena didn't seem too enthusiastic about the prospect. Her mouth twitched, transitioning from a scowl to a thin line. "He wants us to meet in person. The day after tomorrow," she revealed. She grabbed her coffee cup and took a rather long sip of her coffee—as if it served as her liquid courage. "He's in Romania."
“Romania!” Y/N hollered. Screw joy. She was confused as hell. Because while she wasn’t the most prodigious student in the world, nor did she have a modicum of aptitude in Geography, she did know that Romania was thousands of miles away. “Why didn’t you let me know before? And do not even attempt to tell me you didn’t have these plans before, and you just had them now!” 
Yelena winced. “You’re still hung up on that?”
“Yes!”
“I’m sorry, okay. My team has been in contact with him for months, and we’ve heard nothing. He called this morning and said he’d like to discuss the business along with expansion prospects. But he has an opening in three days or in seven months. That guy is an important investor. I couldn’t pass up on this opportunity.” 
Well, when you put it that way, Y/N thought. As much as she wanted to yell and hurl her pumpkin-spice latte at the wall, she couldn’t help but be happy for Yelena. Yes, bad news were pelting her mercilessly, but that wasn’t the case for her best friend. 
“At what time is your flight?” she asked in a steady voice. 
Yelena smiled appreciatively. “Midnight.” 
“I’ll drive you.” She rushed out of her seat, engulfing Yelena in a warm embrace. They held each other for a few seconds, but the touching moment soon melted when Y/N shifted to the right and felt something hit the floor with a thud. “Please tell me it’s not your drink.” 
“It’s not.” Y/N’s shoulders eased. “It’s yours.” 
A bad week and a half, she repeated in her head. 
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Luckily, Lucifer had decided to move on to the next unfortunate soul, leaving Y/N with two mundane days. Apart from her supervisor, Maria, grilling her about delivering the latest interior design schemes for the Odinson project, nothing exciting happened.
On the second day, Y/N drove Yelena to the airport and only departed after receiving a promise of a nice gift. She had dropped her off at nine in the evening and made it home around an hour later. 
Having nothing better to do, she changed into her pajamas, made herself some popcorn, and decided to treat herself to an episode or two of FRIENDS. Her enthusiasm was unrelenting as she continued watching episode after episode, surpassing the four-episode mark.
Little did she know that her streak of luck was finite. Just as Yelena texted that the plane was taking off and the clock struck midnight, Y/N's fairy godmother played the cruelest joke on her—the power cut off.
“Oh, come on!” Y/N whined exasperatedly. She kicked her legs against her rug, throwing a tantrum like a child who’s been denied candy. After a steady string of curses, she fished out her phone and turned on her flashlight. 
Since she was living in a house rather than an apartment, she peeked through her window to check if she was the only one facing a power outage. Most of the lights were off in the houses around them—it was midnight, after all. But the street lights were, in fact, on. 
Once outside, she located the panel and opened it. The switches appeared to be in the “on” position, but she noticed that some of the wires looked worse for wear. 
“Seriously, Lucifer. What do you want, you bastard? My soul in exchange for some peace!” Maybe that wasn't the wisest thing to say to the devil. Next thing she knew, the wires inside the electrical panel were cackling, and sparks began to fly. The sudden noise startled her, causing her to jump back in surprise. “That was a joke! Don’t they have those in hell?” 
Capriciously, the energy within the panel flared up. Y/N decided it was best to stop talking. 
Nervously, she started chewing on her nails. It was already midnight, with electricians available at this hour. In a situation like this, she would have called Yelena, but Yelena was already on a lengthy 8-hour flight to Sokovia. Seeking help from neighbors at this late hour wasn't a viable option either. And though she could consider sleeping in her car, the trembling in her fingers and her foggy breath reminded her of the biting cold.
Finding herself at a crossroads, Y/N pondered going inside and waiting for tomorrow to come. In the end, it’s not like her bad luck could possibly get any worse. But the crackling electricity was intensifying her anxiety and making it difficult to make a decision. Until she was suddenly reminded of something. 
Don’t hesitate to give me a call. Even if it’s at four in the morning, the voice inside her head echoed. 
Was it egotistic on her part to call Steve just because she needed help? Yes. Was it completely illogical to expect him to be awake at midnight? Uh-huh. Was she going to do it anyway? Absolutely. In fact, she was on the second ring now. And she just hoped Lucifer didn’t have any more tricks planned.
"Hello?" The first thing she noticed was the skepticism evident in the voice. The second realization was that it belonged to a woman.
Lucifer, Y/N called in her head. You can kill me now.
“Uhm, good evening.” Great. Now that the easy part was out of the way, she was left with one last dilemma. This woman could potentially be Steve's wife, and she's going to confuse Y/N for the mistress. Fun-fucking-tastic. “I’m sorry, but is this Steve Rogers’ number?” 
“Who is asking?” the woman fired back. 
Maybe it was time to end the call. “I’m Y/N. I, uh, kind of need some help.” 
"I'll inform Mr. Rogers that you called," the woman replied. A flicker of hope ignited in Y/N's chest, only to be extinguished as quickly as a discarded cigarette crushed on the pavement when the woman abruptly hung up the phone, leaving her stunned and disheartened.
Y/N clutched her phone tightly against her chest. She stomped her foot on the ground, tears of frustration beginning to well up in her eyes. These two weeks had been horrible, and there wasn’t the slightest sign that it was going to get any better. 
Y/N massaged her eyes with her thumb and index fingers, feeling the strain of the cold and the situation weighing upon her. As she started mentally searching for the correct placement of her flashlights and candles, her phone began to vibrate, her ringtone reverberating through the quiet and empty street.
Biting her cheek, Y/N fished it out. To her delight, it was Steve. She immediately pressed the accept button, anticipating to hear the woman from before. But a different voice greeted her instead. 
“Steve?” 
“Evening, Y/N.” His tone was placid and calm. Good, so Y/N hadn’t disturbed him with her unexpected call. “Everything alright?”
“I am so sorry to call you at this hour,” she hurriedly replied. Y/N barely took a breath before she continued, “I didn’t want to bother you so late, and I didn’t want to ask for a favor either. I know this makes me sound so selfish, but believe me, Steve. I had the most horrendous two weeks of my life, which is why I never texted you—”
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Y/N. I didn’t give you my number with any expectation that you might call or text me. It’s okay. And I don't think that you're selfish. You've obviously taken your time before calling me, so what's the issue? You're not in trouble, are you?"
He’s so sweet, Y/N thought. She hadn’t even realized she was smiling at his words until she had to clear her throat. 
“Something’s wrong with the power at my house. My best friend is out of the country and most of my neighbors are sleeping. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about it and wait till tomorrow, but my electrical panel is acting out. So, I don’t know what to do.” 
“You send me your location and wait for me to come,” he replied matter-of-factly with too much confidence and little to no hesitance. 
Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. The gentle heat in his words dispelled the coldness that had clung to her, leaving her feeling embraced by warmth.
“I don’t want to bother you.” 
“You’re no bother at all, Y/N. I’ll be waiting for your text.”
As soon as he hung up, Y/N immediately sent him her location. When she made sure he read it, she decided it was best to wait for him inside her house. It wasn’t like he was going to be there in the next twenty seconds. So, she sat by the window, grabbed a flashlight from her cupboard, and turned it on. 
She felt giddy for some reason—excited to see him again. There was a certain kindness to him, she supposed. A comforting aura that told her that when he was there, there was nothing to fear. Maybe it was the fact that he towered over her, and she was sure his whole body would engulf her if she ever found herself in his arms. Or maybe it was his blue eyes that consumed her whole. 
A car's headlights suddenly pierced through the darkness, grabbing Y/N's attention and pulling her out of her reverie. Startled, she glanced down at her phone, disbelief washing over her as she realized she had been lost in her thoughts for what felt like an eternity. To her surprise, only fifteen minutes had actually passed. A wave of relief and gratitude washed over her when the car parked by her house.
Y/N's heart raced with anticipation as she hastily bolted toward the door, unlocking it and eagerly stepping outside. Though her giddiness and excitement turned to confusion when she realized that Steve wasn't the one who emerged from the car.
“Miss Y/N?” a man called out. It was Sam, Steve’s best friend. When Y/N nodded, he continued, “I’m Sam Wilson, and this is Bucky Barnes. Steve sent us.” 
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” She shook their hands. “Thank you so much for coming. I'm sorry to have bothered you this late.” 
“Where’s the electrical panel?” Bucky cut to the chase. Now that he was close, he looked a bit intimidating. He stood at the same height as Steve, though slightly less physically built.
Y/N led him to the panel, taking a step back to allow him to work. He carefully examined it while she fidgeted with her hands, gazing at the car they had arrived in. 
“We were in the area,” Sam’s voice cut through. Y/N’s attention turned to him. She looked like a deer in the headlights. “Steve lives upstate. He figured it was faster to send us.” 
“And I really appreciate it,” Y/N responded. 
After Sam joined Bucky in examining the panel, silence filled the air for a while. The sound of electricity hissing intermittently persisted until both men finally stepped back.
“The bad news is, some of the fuses seem to have melted and need replacement,” Bucky explained. “The good news is, it shouldn’t be too difficult to fix. But, it’ll have to wait until morning.”
Y/N’s shoulders slumped slightly as she absorbed the information. What has she ever done to be rewarded with two terrible weeks?
“Alright. Thanks for the help. I’m sorry to have disturbed you at this hour,” she said, sounding apologetic.
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Hold on a minute,” he interjected, a touch of worry in his voice. “You can’t just go back to your house like this.”
Confused, Y/N asked, “Why not?”
“Because it’s freezing outside, and you’re gonna get hypothermia without any heat in your house. Not to mention it’s not safe.”
Y/N chuckled lightly, trying to brush off the concern. “I have quilts, you know,” she reassured him. “And a lock.”
Sam shook his head. He turned to Bucky, who licked his mouth before he spoke. “If you do that, doll. I have a feeling our boss will not be too happy about it,” Bucky admitted. “Let me call him.”
Bucky stepped away from the group, pulling out his phone to make the call. As he conversed with Steve, Y/N caught fragments of their conversation before the phone was handed to her.
“You’re not seriously going to sleep in your house?” Steve’s voice sounded both worried and protective.
Y/N responded with a soft hum, trying to downplay the situation. “I have quilts and a lock.”
“And I have a perfectly fine apartment nearby that I don’t use. It’s not too far from your place.”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes focused on the ground. She then looked up, biting her lower lip. “Steve,” she started, her voice wavering slightly.
He interrupted her gently, understanding the weight of the situation. “Look, I know we’ve barely met. But I can’t just let you sleep in your house under such circumstances. Especially after Bucky and Sam couldn’t help much. I don’t use that apartment, and if it makes you feel safer, you can text your friends your Live Location and take your own car there. I just want to help.”
Y/N was taken aback by Steve’s unwavering concern and kindness. She realized that his offer came from a genuine place of wanting to help, even though they were relative strangers. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded appreciatively.
“Alright, Steve. Thank you,” she finally responded, her voice filled with gratitude. “I’ll take you up on your offer.”
“Glad to hear it, Y/N. Could you pass Bucky the phone, please? We’ll make sure you’re safe and warm tonight.”
Y/N handed Bucky the phone. She quickly explained to Sam that she would be retrieving a few belongings from her apartment. On her way inside, Y/N shot Yelena a text, including her live location and a brief explanation. Just in case.
Taking a moment to gather her essentials, including pepper spray for added security, Y/N made sure to remember to take Steve's jacket, the one he’d offered her two weeks ago. With her belongings in hand, she set off on her way. If only she knew what she had gotten herself into. 
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Series Taglist: @crazyunsexycool @patzammit @wintasssoldier @themrsrogers
Steve seems like a knight in shining armor. Does he not?
: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 3 | Star Command Blue
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Track Marks And Dial Tones I
Summary: A late night call from your informant sets off an unexpected avalanche of gut-wrenching events…
Pairing: Clay Roach x fem!cop!Reader
Word Content: ~ 2.5k
Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat!, 18+!, Lots Of Hurt And Hardly Any Comfort, Slow Burn, Addiction (Duh), Substance Abuse (Obviously), Used Needles, A Belt Used As Tourniquet, Clay's Disgusting Living Situation, Clay Being Absolutely Fucking Miserable, Crying…So Much Crying, Talk About A Wilfully Induced OD, ANGSTY AF
A/N: The dove isn't just dead anymore, it actually started decomposing a while ago…
I'll add the appropriate content warnings with the progress of this story!
For anybody interested: I've made a Spotify playlist to go along with the fic!
Find Part II here!
Tagging the horde:
@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine
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Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite
I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?
It's harder and harder to get you to listen
More I get through the gears
Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas
- Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? By Arctic Monkeys
"Shitbum." Pale, white letters on the screen of your vibrating phone proclaimed for the 3rd time tonight.
With each new buzz of vibrations passing by, your eyes narrowed down on the display. There wouldn't be anything good in store for you if you picked up, that much you knew for sure, but him calling three times in the span of an hour and not in one manic rush of back to back calls that ended in nothing but halfway nodded out gibberish on your voicemail was something new. Not one singular voicemail had been left so far and after your mobile phone fell back into motionless silence you waited for a notification to pop up, for the screen to inform you that "You have one unattended voicemail by Caller ID: Shitbum." But nothing like that happened. Just another unanswered call in the purgatory of your push-up notifications.
With curiously arched brows, you forced yourself to take your gaze from the phone and redirect it to your bedtime read. It wasn’t an entirely fruitless attempt, you even managed to read half a page before the screen of your phone flickered up again. You saw the display glowing in the corner of your eye and all of your attention shot right back to the device.
"Jesus, fuck…" You muttered under your breath as you rolled your tired eyes at yourself while practically snatching the phone from the nightstand.
"I need you, please." The message read as soon as you unlocked the display.
For a moment you just stared at the words, frowning and your lips subconscious pursing slightly.
"Help." The cold casing vibrated again in your touch and you felt your stomach dropping.
Clay had never asked for help before, never, not once. He might have been a dope-sick informant but he always carried his head high in his very own way of snarky arrogance and stubbornness.
"Shit, Clay. What did you do?" It shot right out of your mouth as you slid out from underneath your warm duvet and reached for your thick police jacket.
Right now you couldn't be bothered to change out of your checkered PJs, everything happened automatically; your phone got shoved into the jacket while your other hand searched through a drawer as your feet pushed themselves into a pair of sturdy winter boots.
Your fingers held onto as many clean rigs as they could while your pockets got stuffed with FTS kits, the usual you brought with you when you stopped by to check in on Clay. It happened maybe once or twice a month and absolutely nobody at the Boston PD would be pleased with knowing about it but you didn't really care. You saw something in him, something more than just a fucked up addict.
The pockets of your jacked nearly teared open with how full you had stuffed them as you leaned down to tie your shoes before rushing downstairs to grab the keys to your car from the kitchen table. Your mind was almost blank, no thoughts just operating as you threw the door behind you shut and nearly ran towards your car.
At this time of night the streets were practically empty and you very clearly speeded down the set of blocks separating you from Clay's flat...if you could even call it that. His housing situation was that of a stuffy, damp bunker that's been trashed and vandalized for god knows how long. Clean or organized were attributes that didn't exist in his realm of clutter, debris and moldy dishes.
Cold wind hit you right in the face as you left the comforting warmth of your car and hastily stepped down a flight of stairs to the subterranean flat.
"Clay? It's me. Can I come in?" You spoke through the old, creaky door and knocked loudly to make your presence known.
No response. You knocked again.
"Clay?" You heard the tremble in your own voice and you were met with nothing but silence again.
"Fuck that shit." You huffed, took a step back and kicked your heavy boot against the door with such vigor that it easily cracked out of its lock.
The fact that your intrusion wasn't accompanied by just any reaction whatsoever had your stomach dropping and twitching in every possible direction. Jumping right into that nervous cramping right beneath your lungs, a pungent yet sweet stench of decay swept out of the open door right into your nostrils.
"Oh god..", You gagged and dry heaved, stumbling back and coughing a lump of saliva onto the wet pavement, "Oh fuck…ew."
You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the sleeve of your jacket but it was little to no avail, the foul odor nearly burned in your nose as you took careful steps through the trash filled hallway.
"Clay?" You called out again, receiving no answer once more.
As soon as you turned a corner into the hellhole that could be described as his "living room", you learned why.
"Oh no! You better fucking not you fucking idiot!" It rambled out of your trembling lips as you saw his statue propped against the wall, head dangling to the side, unresponsive.
With your heart hammering against your ribcage, you practically jumped over all the rubbish piles and crouched down in front of him.
"Clay! Hey!" Your hand touched his sweaty, cold to the touch cheek before all your self-control left you and you smacked him right in the face. No reaction.
"You better fucking talk to me, Clay!" Your fingers searched for his pulse point under strands of knotted, unkempt hair as your professionalism crumbled into nothingness and a flash of tears dreaded to erupt from your lower lash line. You forced them back with every ounce of countenance you could gather whilst a sharp breath escaped your mouth as you felt his pulse. Low and slow, but still very much there.
"The fuck you think nodding out on me like that, shitbum?" You scoffed, plopping down on your ass with a heavy sigh, a bunch of music and TV magazines crumpling under you.
"Let's get this mess here sorted out.." With a wrinkled nose and furrowed brows, your gaze wandered to his left arm, the sleeve being rolled up until above the crook of his elbow.
"Okay, here we go…" You murmured, hoping, imagining that he could hear you as you raised your fingers to slowly loosen up and carefully pull the black leather belt, he had used as a tourniquet, off his arm.
"Almost done…" You placed the belt next to you before you turned back to him and drew the plastic body of an empty syringe out of his arm.
For a brief moment you just looked at it, in anger and in fear to equal parts, fighting the inner urge to just smash the needle into the ground until it would break. Instead, you placed it with the belt and sat back down, taking a look around. The flat was…bad, even for Clay's standards downright messy. It gave the heavy impression that he'd lost the plot since the last time you had seen him about 2 weeks ago. Your mind hardly knew how to respond to your eyes recognising his floor being littered with used fentanyl test strips but it brought an awkwardly lopsided, faint smile to your lips. At least something. He was using them for a minimum of harm reduction.
As you let your eyes roam through the room, you eventually discovered the source of the deathlike stench filling the flat. Even from afar you saw a thick layer of not only green but black mold practically growing out and eating through the thick paper package of some Chinese takeaway you'd brought him 2 weeks ago.
"I paid for those noodles, asshole." You huffed under your breath, a desperate attempt to ease yourself from some of the relentless anxiety raging in your chest.
The box of rotten noodles wasn't the only thing that doused this room in its odor. Countless small cardboard boxes of strawberry milk with their counterpart straws were piled up high in a corner close to the open arch leading into the dirty misery that had been something resembling a kitchen once.
From early on, you had learned that cheap stir-fried noodles and strawberry milk of all things acted as the two main pillars of Clay's cranky diet and you never really tried to change anything about it. Who were you to tell him what to do only because he worked as your informant? Overall, you just felt content knowing that his still severely malnourished body got any sort of culinary input at all.
"What am I gonna do with you now, huh? Jesus, Clay. Freaked the shit out of me." You turned your body back towards his statue, your fingers carefully rolling his sweater back down to his wrist, your fingertips lingering on his sweaty hand for a moment before pulling back.
For a good few minutes, you just looked at him and pondered over what to do now. He'd freak the hell out if you'd drive him to the ER and the ER would most likely just not give much of a fuck since he wasn't straight up ODing. You also didn’t want to leave him here like that. There must’ve been a reason for him to call and text you the way he had and you'd do jackshit before you knew what all this was about.
"Mhmmm…." Your ears perked up the very second you heard the dragged out, low groan trickling out of Clay's mouth.
"Hey there…" You practically whispered to him, careful not to spook him.
"The fuck…are you doing here?" His speech was a little slurred but he seemed to come back slowly.
"You called and texted me, Clay." You answered to him calmly whilst pulling your phone from your pocket.
Before you turned the unlocked display towards his face, you tuned down the brightness.
"Remember?" He swiped his hair out of his face and squinted at the screen, pupils blown out wide.
Clay didn't answer right away, his fogged up mind trying to piece together what had happened during the last 2 hours. The expression on his face told you that he clearly didn't like what his jumbled thoughts came up with.
"Oh….oh, no…." He stammered, sluggishly trying to sit himself up straight again, the features of his face contorting into a pained frown.
While still holding up your phone, you looked at him attentively, following how he clenched his jaws as his eyes got covered by a watery sheene, indicating the growing distress he found himself in.
"It's okay, I promise. I'm here now and I'll help you." You sought to calm him down as you put the phone back into your jacket and tried to smile at him.
It wasn’t a happy smile by far but one of affirmation and understanding.
"No…no, no…" Clay suddenly started to scurry away from you, unaware that his back was already pressed against the lifeless concrete wall.
"No, what? Please talk to me." You felt your brows arching up in worry.
"This is pathetic.", It ruptured out of his mouth in a choked back sob, "You shouldn't…I wasn't…fuck."
"Hey, now.", You carefully scooted a little closer to the dirty mess of a mattress he was sitting on, "Clay, take a breath and please talk to me about what's going on."
"Fuck off!" He spat back, turning his head away from you but you still could see a few vagrant tears running down his cheeks.
"No." You stated bluntly, stopping in your movements to give him room.
"I-...I can't do this shit anymore..", Clay's voice rendered sore and out of breath with every word, "Fuck…I-...I wasn't supposed to wake up."
At his sudden confession all the pieces in your mind fell into place and you were painfully sure to feel something breaking inside of you. A jolt of emotional hurt and plain dread ruptured through your chest, threatening to knock the air out of your lungs as the man in front of you lost his posture entirely and slumped into you, wailing and crying violently.
You caught him in a loose embrace, you recognised your body doing it but your mind could hardly catch up with what was happening.
"Oh God…I should've texted you back. Should've picked up the damn phone. Fucking hell, shit, Clay, I'm so sorry." Your own voice started cracking and flailing dangerously as the weight of what had presumably happened doubled down on you.
"No…no. I'm not your…not your problem." He sniffled into your shoulder, his weak body shaking with every heavy sob erupting from the depths of his lungs.
His croaked out words served yet another fatal hit against your already rapidly crumbling composure. You felt like simply breaking down right here, too, the need for crying and screaming all the pain and guilt out of you growing stronger with every desperate whimper of his that cut right to your bones. However, you forced yourself to keep your shit together, simply had to for Clay right now.
"Issok…", You hummed into the crown of his head, carefully tightening your embrace around his slender shoulders, "You're not a problem or a burden to me. Don't you ever think that, Clay."
Your tender words were only met by a new, reckless wave of breathless cries.
"Help me, please, help me." He whined out, the realization about the reality of his own situation heavy in his voice.
"I will, I promise. You heard that?! I promise!"
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blues824 · 1 year
Note
Hiya! You wouldn't mind if I put in an request? If so can I get the side characters from obey me with a demon read like maybe they're out on a peaceful day and suddenly an explosion goes off & so they go check what it is only for demon reader to jump in front of them holding their missing arm and them being dirty from all rubble n stuff & them saying "this fight is so amazing!" with an wicked smile on their face and a tent of pink blush of them getting excited fighting another demon , I wonder how the side characters would scold demon reader
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Diavolo
Mans just wanted to enjoy the tea that Barbatos had set out for him when there was a sudden explosion
He teleported so quickly, and was in the exact right spot for you to come flying out and making you both fall to the ground. He was glad that he cushioned your fall, though.
Diavolo picked you both up from the ground, only to see you missing an arm but with a full smile on your face
“THIS IS AMAZING!” You exclaimed with a sadistic look on your face
Oh hell no. He is taking you to the nearest hospital so that you can get your arm reattached, and before you can protest he has you over his shoulder.
He makes sure to give Barbatos a call and explain what happened, also so that his butler can get a chauffeur en route
In the car, he is scolding you for being so reckless, but you can tell that it comes from a place of love and worry.
Low-key, it also came from a place of jealousy because you got to do all of these crazy and wild things but he’s stuck in the castle doing work 
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Barbatos 
He was serving the young master some tea when he saw an explosion in the town. He noticed it was near where you lived, so he was understandably worried.
Once he got there, you were thrown out the window and landed right beside him. He thought you were dead until he saw your chest heaving up and down
Upon your face, there was a smile, and right next to you there was your disattached arm.
“That bastard has no idea what’s coming for him” you said with a menacing aura as you started to get back up
All in vain, however, since the butler picked you up in a bridal carry and teleported the two of you to the hospital so that you could get medical treatment 
After informing Diavolo about what happened and you were in the hospital, he went to go deal with the demon you were fighting against
Then, when he went to go visit you in your hospital room, he gave you a 2 hour lecture about how you should be more careful
Not that you listened to any word you said. You were a very chaotic demon, so the chances were leaning towards you going through something like this again
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Solomon
Mans was just tryna pull a Harry Potter and practice his spells when he received word that you were in a very bad fight
Upon arriving, you were promptly thrown out of one of the windows, and Solomon had to use a Wingardium Leviosa so that you didn’t have a rough meeting with the ground, but your arm did not fall under the spell
You were smiling and laughing aloud, as though this were a very amusing and entertaining party or something akin to that
“I wanna go again!” You exclaimed
“Too bad”, the sorcerer responded, and he grabbed your arm and floated you to the hospital so that you could get it reattached 
He let Purgatory Hall know what happened and asked them to inform the brothers as well as Diavolo and Barbatos that you were in recovery
Solomon definitely scolded you, but he found it hard not to laugh throughout the entire thing because the whole situation was hilarious 
The Brothers had gone to deal with the demon who caused you harm since you were like a sibling to them, as Solomon stayed by your side
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Simeon
He definitely saw the explosion a few blocks away from Purgatory Hall, and he realized that you were in that area on an unspecified errand
So, he quickly went over just in time to see you being thrown out of a window like a character from a cartoon show, and your arm following after you 
The angel stood over you, and you had a dazed smile on your face. He thought you were going to make a guardian angel joke but instead you shouted this:
“I WANT A REMATCH”
Y/N did not get their rematch, as they were princess-carried to the hospital so that they could get their arm healed 
Simeon let Solomon know about the happenings of the day, and told him to get takeout because Lord knows that the sorcerer can’t cook
By the way, his lecture about violence not being the answer went on for 6 hours with a slideshow presentation that Luke had made a while ago
He’s never going to let you live this down, and I hope you know that. Each day, he will be giggling at your misfortune,
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ballcrusher74 · 9 days
Note
WOOOHOOOO IM ALLOWED TO ASK ALOT OF QUESTIONS YIPEEEE!!!!!
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▪︎Do you have any fandom ocs but ARENT lethal company that youd ever like to talk about :0?
▪︎What ever happened to Jawbreaker's (your sona) homeplanet after he left, I remember the story was he was exceptional but insubordinate so like, did anyone get fired for letting that guy just scramble away
▪︎who is your favourite oc presently! :3 and have you any miscellaneous facts about them?
▪︎what's in the gyatt folder
▪︎ since Metronoia (I hope I spelled that right from memory) is a dimension/reality hopper, how does other realities effect his state of being, has there ever been a reality the guy found unpleasant or dare I say scary‼‼‼‼‼‼‼😲
CRAKCING FINGERS. YUES. I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTERS.
Yes, I do ! I have some roblox ocs, two being for the game Regretevator ! Broseth is just a completely original guy that I had created based off one of my avatars, and Gamma Ray was kinda ... a shameless semi-self insert character to be buddies with one of my favorite characters in game (Mach)
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I also have this guy, Tixton ! Based off the now deceased roblox currency, he was apart of a friend roblox oc group called Investors ! There's a long story to it all, but Tixton's whole deal was him being an undead ghost guy that was so hellbent on the idea of being alive again (he died with the removal of tix, and was young when that happened) that he basically tried to steal someone's body. I seem to have a liking for making undead / weirdly semi-undead characters, huh
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Moving on from roblox, here's Bumbo ! A guy that was originally made for a fanbase I really don't wanna name, but has now been converted into a BBIEAL / Baldi mod oc ! Originally I was gonna kinda leave him the dirt after leaving aforementioned unnamed fandom, but my boyfriend helped me redesign him for his own Baldi mod / fangame ^_^ <3 Now he is my bumbling sweet baby boy
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Now moving to . Ourple FNF ... ? There was this guy I created, Aerguhbee ! Though, I very much fell off of keeping up with Ourple / FNF stuff in general for a lot of reasons, I still kinda like this guy. He had a bit of a sloppy story, and it never really was even completed, but from what I remember- he was a trapped soul within a security monitor, killed in his place of work as a nightguard. The monitor served as an eternal purgatory for him called 'Moire Edge'. He was able to manifest a form outside of the monitor in order to lure others into his forever limbo, under the guise of becoming friends. If anything, I might just bring back this guy as a wholly original character since I do still kinda fuck with him
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And, before going onto the next question (FINALLY), I'll throw in a bonus : Deacon originally wasn't LC related ! He was a Toontown : Corporate Clash oc, which is such a MAJOR contrast compared to how he is now LOL . I don't think he really had much of story when he was a TT:CC character, besides the fact of being secretly miserable about his job, but I think that's really it. I'll admit I kinda miss his really bright yellow, but I am so much more happier with him now (featuring my toon sona / oc in the last pic but this ain't about him)
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As for Jawbreaker's home planet, they most likely are continuing on their lives as normal. Metsu probably does wonder where he went off to, but hey- not their problem anymore. As for what happened to the guards that failed to capture him again after his prison escape, they most likely were shattered (killed) and their resources recycled
THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. I think it's also just because all my original ocs are very personal to me and I genuinely treat them as parts of myself segmented into their own stories and worlds. Though, if I really have to pick one, I think it would be my art deity guy- which, I am kinda getting tired of just saying that, so I'll just say his name : Abstrakt Mondrian. He is very much an oc of mine that I hold close to my heart, especially considering his story deals with grief, and it almost sounds stupid to say he is an oc of mine that has helped me through a lot ? Also, design wise, I just really like him. Like, I'm not fucking joking when I say that I've had this guy for 4-ish years and his design has barely changed at ALL . It's crazy
Metanoia jumping to different dimensions does very much fuck up his appearance, and there have been a couple places he's found very dissatisfying or horrifying ! These dimensional distortions don't last whenever he exits the dimension that causes it, but it's not that pleasant for him in the moment. These distortions can range from very minimal things, things he can handle, such as a simple change of colors or height, to distortions that almost make him unrecognizable and feel uncomfortable in his own body. Here are some quick examples I did of those !
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( Btw, distortions can be fucking crazy. The main thing about them is they could be literally any style and still work, so if anyone wants to take a crack at one you can literally go insane and do whatever LOL )
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messysketchyobeyme · 10 months
Text
whispers in the dark
Solomon/Reader
Summary:
On your left, you heard Luke yelp. On your right, something abruptly clung onto your arm hard enough that you thought it might leave a bruise. Soft, slow breaths followed as they tried to calm themself down.
Although your vision was impaired, you had a good idea who this person was.
Word Count: 1,084
---
Gray clouds covered the sky, rendering all of the Devildom into darkness. Wind angrily rushed from different directions and threatened to uproot trees and destroy houses in its wake. Occasionally, a flash of lightning would momentarily light up the sky. After a few seconds, an ear-shattering boom of thunder would follow suit.
Luckily, you had been hanging out at the Purgatory Hall when the storm rolled in, so you were nice and dry while you played card games with your fellow exchange students. You, Solomon, Simeon, and Luke sat in a circle playing a particularly riveting game of Go Fish. It was very intense. You weren't sure if there were going to be any survivors after this. 
…Admittedly, the weather was getting a little too much, even for you. The rain pattered violently against the windows and sometimes shook whenever the wind picked up speed. A particularly loud thundering roar made Luke jump. His cards almost lept out of his hands, but he was able to tighten his grip in time. 
Solomon laughed. "Are you feeling scared, Luke?"
"No!" Luke exclaimed before his cheeks flushed. "Um, well, maybe a little." He scratched his cheek.
"It's okay to be afraid," Simeon said. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "By the way, do you have any fives?" Luke handed Simeon a card that you assumed to be a five. Simeon raised his eyebrows at you and said your name. "Do you happen to have any fives, as well?"
You shook your head. "Go fish."
Still smiling, Simeon plucked a card from the center of the deck. You turned your head toward Solomon, who was sitting next to you. It was his turn next.
Solomon made a whole show of peering at the cards in his hands. He rifled through them with a raised eyebrow before grinning. "Simeon? Do you have any fives?" Nothing could hide the hint of amusement that weaved its way into his voice.
Simeon groaned before handing his cards to Solomon. He grabbed the cards out of Simeon's hand and let out a victorious whoop.
Your D.D.D. buzzed. You slipped it out of your pocket to check the single notification: a text from Lucifer. You unlocked your phone and read it in full.
The thunderstorm is too heavy for you to travel back home safely. It's best for you to stay at the Purgatory Hall tonight. 
You put your D.D.D. where it belonged. "Got a text from Lucifer," you explained to the curious faces in front of you, "Guess who's having a sleepover here tonight."
"Good," Simeon said, "I was getting worried that you were going to have to go home in that horrific storm."
"Ooh, you can sleep in my room tonight! I'm sure we have a sleeping bag here somewhere," Luke said, his face lighting up.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to prevent the living room from being plunged into darkness. You blinked. You couldn't see anything at all. You couldn't even rely on the moonlight as it was hidden by the very clouds that caused this mess.
On your left, you heard Luke yelp. On your right, something abruptly clung onto your arm hard enough that you thought it might leave a bruise. Soft, slow breaths followed as they tried to calm themself down. Although your vision was impaired, you had a good idea who this person was. 
Luke fumbled with something for a moment before the room was bathed in a faint, white light. He had managed to turn on the flashlight app on his D.D.D. By that time, Solomon had torn his hand off of you. He sat crossed-legged a good few inches away. After a split second of hesitation, he placed his hand on top of yours, which was planted firmly on the floor. Your hands were hidden by your legs, so neither Luke nor Simeon could see.
"What happened?"
"I think the power went out, Luke," Simeon said. He was very astute. 
"That's okay." Solomon took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, as well. "We have our D.D.D.'s." 
You did the same. "If you want some extra light, Solomon and I can light some candles." You flipped your hand around, so you could squeeze his fingers.
Simeon nodded before standing up. "That sounds like a good idea. Luke and I can go get some candles from storage."
"Why?" Despite his protests, Luke stood up, as well. "We have some candles right here." He pointed his flashlight toward the unlit candles on the dining table.
"Yes, but those aren't enough to light up the entire room. Let's gather some more candles so that we can light them all at once."
"That makes sense, I guess," Luke said before turning toward you and Solomon. "Just wait right here, guys! We'll be right back."
You waited until Luke and Simeon were fully out of the living room before placing your D.D.D. face down on the floor. It wasn't nearly enough to illuminate the corners of the room, but you could see Solomon's face, now.
"What was that?" you asked, referring to Solomon's…unexpected reaction to all of the light's going out.
Solomon gave a rather nonchalant laugh. "Oh, sorry. I was just surprised, that's all. I didn't mean to worry you or anything." He let go of your hand and waved it flippantly.
You gave him a look.
Solomon twiddled his thumbs for a second before giving a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine." He leaned forward as if he was about to tell you a cunning secret. "I get…a little antsy in the dark. I'm usually fine, but that sudden power outage took me off guard."
"Oh," you said, not knowing exactly what to say, "Sorry, I shouldn't have pried."
"No, it's fine. It's not that big of a deal."
You touched the side of Solomon's cheek. He shivered and leaned into the palm of your hand. "If you say so, but don't be afraid to tell me if it is." You rubbed your thumb along his cheekbone. "I want you to know that I'm always here for you, Solomon."
Once again, a bolt of lightning lit up the entire room for a split second. You could see Solomon's thunderstruck expression as clear as day. You laughed, gently pinching him before letting go of his face.
He rubbed his cheek after a second, chuckling alongside you. "You really have me wrapped around your finger, huh?"
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any chance for more what if emma doesn't die thoughts from you? I am filled with sorrow for her and Dean once more
ooh....you know for someone who has an obscenely long ghost emma wip I've never really considered if she just survived from the beginning hmm...
well obviously when sam barges in the room dean either manages to put himself in front of emma and talk him down, or, the sexier option, he shoots the gun out of sam's hand. sam still argues but dean is invoking oldest rule here lmao. I don't know if 'poughkeepsie' would apply here but I want him to drop a code word to guilt sam into letting emma come along
between his attitude and the whole 'pulling a gun on her' thing emma reasonably does not like sam right off the bat, so she's practically glued to dean like a shadow for the first couple weeks
(personally I think emma truly wanted to escape and didn't want to hurt anyone, I think she only pulled the knife bc she couldn't read dean and thought he wasn't gonna help her. so obviously that's. less of an issue here)
idk I just really like the idea of emma knowing How to fight but having more of a pacifistic nature, not really blending well with either sides of her family. like she didn't ask dean to protect her from the amazons so she could be a hunter. dean may not be able to give her a normal life while they're busy hiding from leviathans, amazons, and the us government, but he'll be damned if he's gonna force her into a fight or give her a gun. sam tries to convince emma to work as bait for the pennywhistle case and dean goes Nuclear
so once dean's comfortable letting her out of his sight for longer than half an hour she's usually on research or like, the get away driver lol
dean's 'never had enough money to get nice things for sammy' childhood guilt is manifesting aggressively he's buying stuff for emma every time he goes anywhere. whole back seat of the car is decked out with fluffy blankets and pillows, she's got her own collection of music, clothes, stuff like that. she definitely has more stuff than she should have considering they're living on the run but that's not gonna stop dean
sorry I just love the idea of sam constantly picking fights with her and dean being like. Why Do You Have Beef With My Newborn.
like I definitely think sam would warm up to her before the end of the season, especially after cas fixes his mind, but between the amy situation and his personal trauma about feeling like a monster his family should have hunted, I think he'd just. have a rough time with her at first. plus in no world does sam know how to communicate with teenage girls lmao
HOWEVER I don't think she'd stay with him while dean is trapped in purgatory. I think lowkey sam doesn't even really. Consider being her guardian or whatever bc he sees her as grown and capable, but also he's immediately trying to find a place to settle down and emma is like. what the fuck are you talking about none of this is finished???
so she takes off. she wants to find kevin to 1) make sure he's okay and 2) see if his prophet powers can help her figure out what happened to dean and cas. I think she should meet up with charlie!!! she figures if anyone can track down a missing person it'd be her, and we all know charlie's not gonna turn away kid wanting to save her parent.
they do find kevin (and linda!) and get them situated and do what they can to hide them from crowley. dean and cas eventually get out of purgatory the same way as in canon bc they couldn't really figure that out, but at least kevin wasn't abandoned all year and had a decent head start on figuring out the tablet. the four of them have a little clubhouse set up and charlie makes buffy the vampire slayer references or room of requirement jokes literally every day
this is pretty much all I've got right now, but I'm always filled with sorrow on emma's (and deans) behalf omg. someone please save her already
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666writingcafe · 6 months
Text
Three Days Later
Simeon
It's been eerily quiet ever since we returned to Purgatory Hall. Solomon and I have taken turns at keeping an eye on the door, just in case anyone comes with any news about MC's sudden disappearance.
Currently, I'm in the living room with Luke, helping him with some of his homework. I can tell he's just as worried as we are, but I'm trying to keep his mind off it the best I can. He doesn't need to carry that kind of burden; he's only a child.
The loud, rapid knock on the door startles both of us. Luke starts to get up, but I force him to stay put.
"Solomon's got it," I remind him. As Luke resumes doing his homework, I attempt to focus on the conversation happening at the door, but I can't make out anything distinct.
That is, until I hear the door slam.
"What's going on?" Luke asks. "Is everything alright?"
"Simeon." Solomon bursts into the room, looking at me expectantly.
"I'll be back, Luke." I pat him on the shoulder as I stand up. Solomon darts out, and I have to walk quickly to catch up to him.
When Solomon opens the door back up, he reveals two people: one that I've never seen before, and...
When my eyes meet theirs, I instantly realize why Solomon called for me.
"Give me your hand," I instruct. They extend one out to me, and I sandwich it between my own hands. They're warm, but not supernaturally so.
"They're alive."
Solomon directs me to step back so that MC and their guest can come inside, allowing him to shut the door behind them.
"You have no idea how worried we were, MC," Solomon whispers. "When I saw you point the dagger towards yourself, it sent shivers down my spine." I figured that Solomon sent all of us out of the room so that MC could choose a victim for the blade, but I didn't think they would pick themselves.
"You all are incredibly lucky I was there," the female stranger replied. "Otherwise, they would be dead."
"So, I take it the dagger did not get used?" I ask.
"No. Look at their hand." Glancing down at MC's other hand, I notice a ring that wasn't there before. A simple black band.
Wait a minute. Is that what I think it is? The look on Solomon's face confirms that it is.
"It was supposed to have been lost in the carnage of the Great War," he murmurs in awe. "Clearly, I was mistaken."
I have questions.
As Solomon takes MC to the living room to reunite with Luke, I stop the stranger from following them.
"Who are you?" I ask her.
"Thirteen," they reply. That name sounds familiar. "And you must be Simeon, the angel that got demoted after the war."
"How do you know about that?" Thirteen crosses her arms.
"It's my business to know about these sorts of things." What does she mean...
Oh. Of course. She's a reaper.
"Why did you help MC?" She shrugs.
"It wasn't their time."
"I doubt that's the only reason." The words escape my mouth with a sharpness I did not intend. However, instead of her responding in kind, Thirteen sighs.
"You're right. It wasn't. I had to keep a promise I made a long time ago." Interesting. I didn't think reapers made promises, unless...
Unless it was to keep something safe.
"The ring was never lost, was it?" Thirteen shakes their head.
"Lucifer gave it to me. He thought that it was fitting at the time, seeing as he was no longer an angel."
"Nor was he no longer tied to Michael."
"Exactly. That connection now belongs to Solomon and MC. Hopefully, they make better use of it." I smile as I guide Thirteen to the living room.
"They'll make a great pair. Trust me."
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muzzleroars · 10 months
Note
Hi!, now i would like to know how Gabriel reacts to the revived half angelic V1, did he expected his light to work or did he just do it out of pure desperation and without plan?
How would V1 itself react?, some questions ago you said it was in fact scared of death.
(Also, Gabriel doesn't have a soul after falling?, or i understood the giving his light to V1 wrong?)
I hope you have a nice day/night!.
(see this!)
gabriel has no way of knowing if his idea will work, and he knows very well he isn't welcome in heaven besides - he could be killed before he's even able to enact his plan, especially as he must carry and protect v1's body the entire time. just reaching the gates on his own is no small feat, to cross the waters to mount purgatory and scale its impossible height, to vault over the river lethe with a burden that feels so much heavier than it should. and this is the easy part, the part he knows and meets no resistance in except from the environment itself. but when he breaks down the gates, when he carries his sword in one hand and draws up all the hell energy he can to himself, he knows he's putting everything he has into a plan that could fail...a plan that in fact may be likely to fail. but he has nothing else. he will burn himself out, he will finally feel how heaven itself scorns him and he will die by its hands, if only it gives him the chance to try.
initially, of course, gabriel can only be thrilled when the light takes, though the success isn't instant or obvious. quiet months go by where only a soft little thrum in v1's chassis keeps gabriel's hope alive, no further evidence of his plan working or any revival being imminent. something is in there, but fear that he's given it only stasis creeps in and once again leaves gabriel perpetually covered in a bloom of ice. yet that light is weaving into v1's machinery, it is slowly converting into divine math and taking up residence in the crystals that once made its mind. from living flame to living photons, the two come to understand each other and finally fuse into one, v1 coming back online with a boot sequence utterly incomprehensible to any other machine or angel. the instant is unspeakable in emotion, gabriel stricken still hearing the true whir of life that he had strained to pick up every second of every day since he had succeeded...yet it entirely fades into static when v1's optical lights up. and it moves. the moment exists in a dream-like haze, so ephemeral that he's consumed with an irrational fear that any movement, any utterance from him would collapse the reality in front of him. but v1 is looking at him. it's looking at him for the first time in years. years since it never woke up. years since he sat quietly alone in that bed for days. years since he washed up on the shores of purgatory and a blur takes over. to here, to now. looking at each other. frost closes in on his vision, tunneling into that brilliant blue light until he hears his name break through the roar in his ears.
his name in that funny little synthetic voice.
what can he do but be taken in by rapture, by fantastic ecstasy that flashes dim colors of blue and gold through his shattered, skeletal wings? it remembers him, it embraces him when he comes to it and his body all but collapses as unearthly sobs wrack through it...yet his tears flow freely against v1's warmth. neither of them want to let go, and they're likely held fast for the entire day for fear that this could disappear in an instant despite how hard won it was. but even in that euphoria adjustments need to be made, with v1's new life state quickly commanding both of their attention...as well as the ramifications of a reviving a machine that has died. for gabriel, nothing can dull the absolute wonder of having v1 back, nothing can keep a soft warmth from filling his chest that has been so empty and so cold for so long. v1 is different, and it has a period where it must relearn some things - there are painful, heart-skipping reminders of when its mind was failing, with sudden clumsiness or unexpected shut downs, but it always recovers quickly (though gabriel is a bit fussy in the beginning). otherwise...it's odd to see v1 imbued with the divine, to literally have what he lost centuries ago. it makes him strangely nostalgic, not jealous or regretful in the face of v1's newfound angelic nature, but finding himself lost in wistful memories of the time that was him. he tries not to be too precious about it, but in the beginning it can sometimes be overwhelming, finding himself with unexpected tears. it catches him off-guard when v1 seems to know exactly what it is that causes them before he even does himself - it was never good with emotions, and before v1 would have been bewildered. but not now, not when it feels the emotions of others so fully especially in joy or sadness - those were always gabriel's specialty.
v1 is an uncharted world to itself, its revival an explosion like the start of a new universe. its quantum mind had been scattered across space, impressions left echoing all around it - long and dark and like dreams and nightmares, a consciousness without cohesion. it had no senses, yet it was acted upon and it moved, moved through as a lifeless being webbed between particles that run and run from each other. it was something else, something unthinking yet still somewhere...until they were called home, drawn in and collected by the light put into it. the light rewrote it, yet it bent to it - it rapidly repaired the code within it, it inhabited long silent processors and lit them up once more, careful not burn up its memories, its whole life (though damage is done). but it cannot be fully machine as v1 cannot be fully divine, the two blending together in sometimes imperfect ways. the code doesn't always work, doesn't always make sense, and there are times v1 feels alien to itself, its computer mind flooded with divine information and instinct that it analyzes and disseminates into every part of itself. it's left too with broken, non-memories of the years it lied dead, visions both its computer and angelic mind try to understand and yet achieve nothing with. truly, v1's now become an entity with unknowable expanse that it must reckon with - to experience the death of the machine and return from it, to house the most advanced mind created by humanity and now to contain within those processors light of the most primal fount. it's. overloaded to say the least...yet, it would rather be here now, like this, than gone as it was, gabriel alone as he was. it's burdened, but v1 has always been a being of adaptability and it's never bitter about its resurrection - in fact, it likes hearing gabriel tell the story of how he did it (and he enjoys it too, seeing v1's new wings light up in golds and pinks)
(as far as gabe's soul goes, i consider it to be linked to his light and therefor mostly torn from him when that was stolen. he does retain threads of it despite heaven claiming fallen angels are entirely soulless, though it wouldn't be enough for him to return in any form if he were to die now. v1 therefor now houses the majority of his lost soul, but it has been completely given over to it so that it can live. however, because of who it once was and v1's own love, it still very much has an affinity for gabriel :])
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purplewitch156 · 6 months
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20 Questions for Fic Writers!!
Thank you for tagging me @racfoam! That was very sweet of you. <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Eight
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
342,149 words. And it's gonna get bigger. I love writing fanfiction.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Harry Potter.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Of Your Making – Harry and Voldemort are trapped in a magical artifact and must forgive each other to be released.
Entwined – Harry is trapped (I have a running theme here…) on a distant, hostile planet and Voldemort is determined to get him back to Earth.
Memento Mori – In the hope of freeing Voldemort from his endless purgatory, Harry chooses to seek him out in death and they end up on a roller coaster of various Lives.
When the Phoenix Cries – Sequel to Of Your Making. Harry and Tom are sent to another dimension where they must deal with a victorious Voldemort and a Death Eater Harry.
Sand In My Shoes – A non-magic AU. Tom is a professional chess player sent to a vacation island to deal with his temper and meets Harry, a comic book artist/surfer.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why? Why not?
I typically do. It’s so exciting to receive happy comments that I want to be happy back. :D 
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Nightshade. It’s the only one I’ve written so far that is a tragedy.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Of Your Making.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Rarely. Negative comments are in the minority, but I still have to remind myself of that fact when one shits in my inbox because I tend to pay more attention to negative remarks – they hit harder than they should. I’m getting better at brushing them off. And if they are particularly shitty, I delete them.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I don’t think any of my sex scenes are smutty enough to be called smut, so no. BUT I would like to one day write a story that leans more into the smut as a personal challenge.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I have not written a crossover.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
No. And if it has happened, I’m unaware.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! A few of my fics have been translated, especially Of Your Making, which blows me away to this day. People are amazing.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have not.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Tomarry, but Harrymort is in very close second place.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Hmmm, that isn't quite how I work. When I get enough of an idea to jot it down in a journal instead of it just floating about in my brain in hypothetical land, I tend to intend to finish it one day. As time goes by, I may decide that the plot isn’t as strong or as compelling as I’d originally thought, and it gets downgraded or repurposed into something better. So I don’t necessarily look at my ideas and say, “I’d like you to happen, but let’s face it, you won’t.” I’m more likely to say, “I think I might strip you for parts…”
16. What are your writing strengths?
Oh lord, I get so stressed with these kinds of questions. I’d say dialogue and engagement.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I rarely spend time describing clothes or structures or people. I have a scene in my current WIP (Deimos) where Tom takes Harry robe shopping (this is such a wonderful trope, god bless) and I tried harder, which meant I Googled ‘mage robes’, found an artist’s rendition I liked, and described it as best as I could. lol
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I’ve dropped in a few words from other languages when I feel like it might help immerse the reader in the setting, but it’s not something I do often.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Harry Potter.
20. Favourite fics you’ve written?
I love all my fics. I’ve enjoyed writing each of them immensely, but if I had to pick favorites I’d say Of Your Making and A Deathly Visit.
Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to participate! <3<3<3
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diminuel · 10 months
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I don’t know if there are any convention experts here but I just saw that you can buy tickets for next year’s JIB soon.
I’m a bit torn between trying to go to JIB simply because I tried once and got no ticket and trying to get a ticket for Purgatory con.
I’m willing to pay unreasonable amounts of money for it simply because more expensive tickets come with less stress for me, or that was how I experienced my one Purcon five or six years ago. The benefit of a Purcon Silver ticket back then was that I had good seats. I was still stressed since there was no assigned seat, just an assigned area, which meant I was waiting in front of the door an hour or two in advance. Which brings me to another topic: entrance through a separate door, which reduced my “this is the siege on Helm’s Deep, I must fight against 1000 enemies for my seat” irrational nonsense. Also, in that ticket, autographs and photo OPs were already included, which meant I didn’t have to stress about trying to get one of the coveted things. (Even though I did not enjoy doing photo OPs or autographs, due to my issues.)
For a little more peace I am willing to pay 800 or 1000€ if I must. (Mind you, this is still a LOT of money for me and I could probably invest it into something smarter but the thought of maybe a last chance to make fandom friends IRL? Enticing. Chance to see Cockles live? Enticing.)
But I don’t know how Purcon is nowadays. Good, bad? I have no idea.
Comparing that to JIB which was lauded as the one and only Cockles con, but Misha has not yet been announced and I don’t think I want to spend a lot of money on Rome if Misha’s not there. Also, there was some controversy about Destiel fanart which doesn’t seem very inviting either...
And then the issue here also is that those who already went before can submit ticket requests two hours earlier than new people. What even are the chances of getting one of the good/ expensive tickets?
Also, the issue I see with JIB con prices is that they do not include photo OPs which I think would have justified the prices of 600-800 Euros for the higher tier tickets.
Also, also. While I speak German, I’m no longer fluent in Italian, so this also makes me a bit nervous.
I’m the kind of autistic person who is prone to rare meltdowns, almost always connected to traveling, especially when alone and things don’t go according to plan.
So... Lots of ramblings about my insecurities and indecision. I just had to write it down so it’s out of my brain. I’ll probably try to get a Purcon ticket but I don’t have facebook so if they change their plans regarding the VIP/Gold tickets I’m definitely not going X’D
I mean, I could go to both. *throws money out of window* No. No, I want to go to Scandinavia one day, I should save my money! *scrambles to pick the money back up*
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riiwriting · 1 year
Text
Pastry Possibilities | Barbatos (Obey Me)
Summary - After months of living in the Devildom, there were some things that you just accepted as a part of life, such as it being impossible to steal a moment of the royal butler's time.
Notes - First time I've ever written anything for this fandom. I don't have any idea why Barbatos is who came to mind first, but whatever works.
Warnings - N/A
Pronouns - GN (no pronouns used at all)
It didn’t take long at all for you to understand the unspoken routines of the Devildom. There were some things you just simply didn’t ask about, like Satan’s opinion on Lucifer, or that time that Levi summoned Lotan. And then there were some things that everybody simply just accepted as parts of life; no matter how seemingly unfair or odd to you they were.
Honestly, the longer you stayed there, the more that those kinds of things began to arise. You had to grown into understanding Lucifer and Satan’s relationship, just as it took time for you to understand why Mammon chose only to be a decent person when it came to you or his younger brothers. But there were also things that were quite apparent to you from day one, like the fact that it was eternally night, or Barbatos’s unwavering devotion to Lord Diavolo.
The latter, of course, made the most sense out of any of them. When you were introduced to the teal-haired demon, Lord Diavolo seemed to almost make a point to add his title of “butler.” Though you felt it to be a bit condescending, Barbatos had seemed to take pride in his position at the young lord’s side. To each their own, you supposed.
However, as your stay in the Devildom extended, this simple fact of existence seemed to bother you more and more. Something about the butler had caught your intrigue, and though you couldn’t quite figure out what it was, it created an ache in the pit of your stomach.
You knew everyone else. You knew what made the brothers tick, just as you knew what Luke and Simeon’s favorite desserts were. Hell, you had even come to know Lord Diavolo himself quite well, thanks to a desperate need for a breath of fresh air during the exchange retreat, and his willingness to accompany you.
There had been virtually no opportunities to really converse with Barbatos. In the few that there were, Diavolo was always present —and if he wasn’t, Mammon was. You learned very quickly that if you wanted a chance to actually talk to the butler, you’d have to create the situation yourself.
That was when you decided to pick baking back up as a hobby. You were quite familiar with a collection of human-world pastry recipes, but it had admittedly been a few years before you spent much time in front of an oven. Partially out of fear of embarrassing yourself in front of the brothers (though mostly due to a desire for peace and quiet), you asked Simeon if they would mind sharing the Purgatory Hall kitchen with you.
“Of course not! You know you’re more than welcome at Purgatory Hall for any reason,” Simeon said, a bright smile on his face.
You returned his smile in full. “Thank you,” you beamed gratefully. “I know this sounds silly, but it’s been a while since I’ve tried to bake anything. If anyone is going to have to tell me that my cookies taste like ass, I’d prefer it be you.”
Simeon laughed, “Well, I’ve never known you to be bad at anything, so I’m sure they’ll be quite fine. I do have to ask though, is there a reason why you’re deciding to pick an apron up all of a sudden?”
Though you knew there was quite literally no way Simeon could REALLY know your intentions, the mischievous glint in his eye made you shift your feet. He always seemed to know when you had some kind of plot, regardless of how hard you tried to disguise it. You had been foolish to think that this time would be any different.
“Oh, nothing in particular,” you lied seamlessly, hoping that Simeon didn’t catch the way you wiped your sweaty palm on the bottom of your RAD uniform jacket. You thought up a new line of reasoning as quickly as possible. “I just feel like my entire personality down here has revolved around Lucifer and his brothers. I miss doing things just for myself.”
Your heart panged at your own words as you realized how true they were. Though a conscious awakening wasn’t exactly what you was going for, it apparently placated Simeon’s curiosities, as he tapped his chin and nodded thoughtfully along with your words. “Well, that’s certainly understandable. I’ll say again, any time you need somewhere to go, you’re welcome at Putgatory Hall.”
You thanked him again before giving your friend a tight hug and announcing you’d stop by a little while after school. Simeon simply nodded and agreed to your plans before the two of you parted ways.
You turned away from Simeon and nearly right into Lucifer, who was eyeing you with suspicious curiosity. You jumped a bit at the sight of him, before letting out a small sigh. “Geez, Lucifer, haven’t you learned in the hundreds of years you’ve been alive not to sneak up on people like that?”
“I was simply standing here,” he noted stoically. “You were just in a hurry and didn’t watch where you were going.”
You felt your face burn under his gaze. Maybe he had a point. Breathing another sigh, you apologized, “Okay, I’m sorry. I just realized I had been talking to Simeon for longer than I anticipated, and I didn’t want to be late to class.”
Lucifer drew out a short, disbelieving, “I see,” before an uncomfortable silence hung in the air. When it became painfully clear that you didn’t know what he was expecting of you, he asked, “I presumed you and Simeon were making plans of some sort?”
“Oh!” you said in surprise, having been expecting some sort of reprimand, as Lucifer seemed to love handing those out when they weren’t warranted. “Well, I suppose. I asked if I could bake cookies at Purgatory Hall later tonight.”
One of Lucifer’s eyebrows rose. “Is there a reason you can’t use the House of Lamentation’s kitchen?” he asked, somewhat offended.
You quickly shook your head. “Of course not! I just figured I could use Luke and Simeon’s help. It’s been a while since I baked anything.”
Lucifer didn’t appear convinced, though you supposed his expression always carried some sort of suspicion, but he didn’t press you any further. Instead, he said, “You’d be better off asking Barbatos for help.”
A lump formed in your throat. You wanted to tell him he was an idiot, and ask him how exactly he thought you would be able to simply steal Barbatos’ attention from Diavolo. However, the last thing you needed to do was actually give Lucifer a reason to punish you, so you simply waved a passive hand. “Oh, he’s too busy for that.”
Lucifer shrugged, though apparently seemed to agree with what you said. “In that case, if your cookies turn out to be palatable, you should take some to the castle. I’m sure Diavolo would appreciate you sharing human culture with him, and Barbatos might be able to offer you feedback.”
You had to fight to keep yourself from bouncing on your feet, a sudden anxious rush running through you. You jumped at the opportunity your friend – used loosely – laid in front of you. “That’s a nice idea, thank you. Would you do me a favor, then, and tell Diavolo about it the next to you see him? That way a visit wouldn’t be completely unexpected.”
Your thoughtfulness seemed to impress Lucifer, who allowed his lips to quirk into the faintest of smiles. Just as quickly as it had come, the expression disappeared. The demon gave a curt nod, “I’ll let them know.“
Though you felt the conversation had ended, Lucifer lingered in front of you. You then realized the one thing you had forgotten to cover. “And of course I’ll bring some back to the house for you guys,” you promised.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, acting as if he hadn’t been waiting all this time for you to confirm exactly that. “I would expect you to bring some to me, at least, considering we’ve had this conversation. Thought I don’t think Beel would forgive you if he found out you didn’t save any for him,” he teased.
All of a sudden your little cookie experiment was turning into a bake sale, but you couldn’t do much other than nod and escape from the hallway. Once you reached your next class, you retrieved your D.D.D from your bag to text Luke about the situation. Your tension eased when he responded enthusiastically, saying he would help however you needed him to, and that he couldn’t wait to hang out with you.
Tossing your device back into your bag, you relaxed in your seat and decided to be optimistic. Lucifer and Simeon both had been more helpful than you anticipated. While part of you almost wanted to thank them, you thought you might die of embarrassment if anyone found out how desperately you were trying to retrieve Barbatos’ attention.
You still hadn’t figured out what it was that drew you to him. You were half-convinced that it was simply the mystery of it all – that you just couldn’t stand not knowing everything. However, the more you felt butterflies arise at the thought of the demon butler, the more you lost faith in your innocent act.
You were drawn to Barbatos the same way that everyone else seemed to be drawn to you. And while quite literally anyone else would have been an easier route for your heart to take, you had begun noticing your brain circling back to him.
You genuinely hoped that once you got a chance to see a bit of his true character, that sensation would fade. Maybe then you could actually get on with your life.
x
“There we go!” You declared with a slight wince as you tossed the last pan of cookies onto the kitchen counter. Simeon and Luke, who were each sitting at the kitchen table, munching on cookies from your first batch, gave you a small round of applause at hearing you were finally done, 7 trays later.
Luke smiled happily from around his cookie, crumbs falling from the corner of his mouth. “These are really good MC! You didn’t need our help at all,” he said happily.
Simeon nodded at his sentiment. “You’re very right Luke. Though I’m definitely not complaining about getting first dibs over Beel.”
You felt your cheeks redden at their compliments. Dipping your chin to focus on removing the cookies from the tray to a plate, you responded to their praise, “Well, I’m glad that they taste okay.” It was one of the most basic cookie recipes you could remember, so you didn’t think you’d forgive yourself if you messed them up.
After finishing his cookie, Simeon joined you at the counter, watching curiously as you distributed the cookies evenly between a few different plates. Feeling his gaze, you look up at him. “Do you guys have notecards? And a marker?” you asked politely.
With a small nod, Simeon disappeared up to his room, returning moments later with exactly what you had asked for. You thanked him, before scrawling everyone’s names on individual notecards. This would at least help you remember who you had already given some to.
Simeon continued to watch your actions, laughing quietly when you tucked the card with Beel’s name onto the fullest plate. You then decided to make two plates for the house in general, hoping that with Beel removed from the equation, no fighting would ensue.
Of course, to save your own ass, you separated a few and bundled them up in parchment paper, attaching a notecard with Lucifer’s name to the top. You didn’t bother labeling Purgatory Hall’s cookies, as you would just leave them here.
You seemed to hesitate at the last plate, debating whether it was improper to write Diavolo and Barbatos’ names, or if you should simply address the castle, or possibly just Diavolo. You wanted Barbatos to know that you had him in mind, but you also didn’t want to break some unbeknownst to you status quo.
Simeon noticed your hesitance, and asked, “You aren’t taking any to the castle?”
Your head snapped up, directly meeting your friend’s blue eyes. Your face reddened, “I am. I just didn’t know the proper way to address them.”
A humored smile spread onto Simeon’s lips. “I’m sure Diavolo will be pleased regardless of what the label says,” he placated.
You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if asking a simple question would give away your intentions too much. After a short study of Simeon’s expression, you figured if there was anyone you didn’t mind knowing your thoughts, it was him and Luke.
“You don’t think it’s improper to address them to both him and Barbatos, do you?” You asked, glancing up at the taller angel through your eyelashes.
Simeon was quick to shake his head, “Not at all. I’m under the impression that Diavolo sees Barbatos as more of a very helpful friend than a servant. And I’m sure Barbatos would love the idea of someone baking something for him for a change.”
You let his words sit in the air for a moment, your eyes focused on what was left of the cookies in front of you. With a small frown on your lips, you divided what you had left between two plates rather than one, making individual labels for each.
Once you had tucked both of the cards into their proper places, you looked back up at Simeon. “Do you mind if I run to the castle and then swing back by on my way home?” you asked. It was a shorter walk to the castle from there, and you were mildly afraid of questioning from both Mammon and Beel if they noticed you had sweets for other people.
Simeon and Luke both announced that they wouldn’t mind your coming and going at all, though with a knowing look, Simeon asked if you wished for him to accompany you to calm your nerves. You shook your head, knowing that as much as you would enjoy his company, it would defeat the whole purpose of your cookie scheme.
After short promises of being right back to retrieve the rest of your pastries, you stacked the two plates of cookies in your arms and headed out into the stuffy evening air. You tried not to let your nerves bubble to the surface on your walk, but the moment the castle’s grand doors were in front of you, you had to take a second to collect yourself. After swallowing your pride, you knocked on the door.
Momentarily, the door was pulled open, revealing a pleasant-looking Barbatos. “MC,” he greeted with a warm smile, “My Lord was just asking if I had seen you yet this afternoon.”
You returned his smile gently, anxious butterflies bouncing around your stomach. “Well, I apologize for keeping you both in anticipation. I suppose I didn’t think about how many cookies I had to make for everyone, and how long it would take.”
A knowing look shone in the butler’s eyes, and he gave a thoughtful nod before stepping aside and inviting you in. You shifted anxiously on your feet as you stood in the entryway of the Demon Lord’s castle.
“Give me one moment, I’ll go retrieve Lord Diavolo,” Barbatos announced quickly.
Before you could think better of it, you stretched a hand in his direction to stop him. Fingertips grazing his jacket sleeve, your face burned when he turned to you with an unreadable look. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Before you do, I just wanted to give you these, is all.”
You handed the butler the bottom plate of cookies, watching meekly as his eyes drifted across his name scrawled in your handwriting. His expression seemed to change, but when he looked over at you, his eyes still seemed to hold their normal humored curiosity. Clearing your throat, you explained, “They’re nothing special, but I figured it would be nice to eat something you didn’t have to make for a change.”
This time, you were certain that his expression changed, as his mouth quirked into a tiny smile. You had grown accustomed to the polite smiles he sent you while you conversed with Lucifer or Diavolo, but you had to admit that it was nice to be the reason for even the tiniest bit of his contentment.
However, when he didn’t say anything for a prolonged moment, your anxiety worked double time. “Sorry, I’m know you’re used to higher quality sweets, but–“
“I’m sure these will be wonderful,” Barbatos spoke thoughtfully, his words silencing your rambling. When you met his gaze again, his smile had grown, most likely to put you at ease. You allowed yourself to return his smile, and relished in the way his cheeks dusted with a shade of pink. “Thank you, MC. It’s admittedly been a while since I received any sort of gift for myself.”
Your heart thumped against your rib cage as you successfully fought the urge to tell him that he was the sole reason behind you getting in the kitchen in the first place. You instead settled for, “I figured as much, which is why I wanted to make sure to bring you your own.”
You watched as the butler’s chin tilted away from you, undeniably hiding a flustered expression. His reaction made your chest swell with pride, even as he hurriedly excused himself to go retrieve Diavolo.
When the young lord arrived in the entryway to greet you, Barbatos was notably absent from his side. You chose not to inquire, but Diavolo seemed to notice your gaze traveling around the room, and voiced an internal thought. “I admit, I’m not sure where Barbatos disappeared to,” he said with a small frown. After a moment of studying your demeanor, his expression melted into a curious smile. “Though I will say he was quite red in the face while letting me know of your arrival.”
Your intention had certainly not been to fluster him – in fact, you didn’t think that was possible – but you took that as a sign that maybe you were getting somewhere.
“It’s later than I anticipated, but I know Lucifer told you I’d be by, and I didn’t want to disappoint,” you explained as you handed the red-haired demon the remaining plate of cookies.
Diavolo let out a deep laugh, “You have yet to disappoint in any way, MC.” He paused for a moment as his eyes drifted over the parchment covered plate. Seeing the notecard with his name, his expression faltered, “I don’t mean to question your thought process, but I don’t suppose you’d mind if I shared with Barbatos?”
You felt yourself smile at his consideration, and supposed Simeon had a point about the two of them being friends. “You can share with anyone you’d like! Though I have already given Barbatos a plate for himself.”
Immediately upon hearing your words, Diavolo’s goofy smile returned. Things apparently seemed to click into place, as he let out an understanding, “Ah.” After a moment of suggestive silence, he declared, “Well, I’ll have to have him invite you over to use the kitchen here sometime. I’m sure the two of you would work quite well together.”
You felt your face flush once more as you smiled at the offer. “Well, I’d certainly appreciate the opportunity,” you responded politely. There was a glint in Diavolo’s eyes that told you he had you entirely figured out, but you excused yourself before giving him the chance to say much else.
Diavolo himself saw you out, thanking you again at the door. When you asked him to tell Barbatos you said goodbye, he all but smirked, promising to pass the sentiment along.
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midorishinji · 2 months
Text
Armillaria solidipes
— Do you know which organism is the oldest to inhabit this planet, Sakura? It’s a fungus, Armillaria solidipes, 8650 years old. It’s in Oregon, in the United States, and it’s also the largest organism to live… Inside the earth, its hyphae spread for miles and miles, as far as the eye can see… To give you an idea, humans live an average of 72 years. And we are also absolutely insignificant creatures.
Sakuino |Oneshot|Also published in Portuguese and on AO3
— Do you know which organism is the oldest to inhabit this planet, Sakura? It’s a fungus, Armillaria solidipes, 8650 years old. It’s in Oregon, in the United States, and it’s also the largest organism to live... Inside the earth, its hyphae spread for miles and miles, as far as the eye can see... To give you an idea, humans live an average of 72 years. And we are also absolutely insignificant creatures.
I smiled back at her. It was Saturday morning and I was accompanying Ino on her research in the college's biology laboratory. While she observed something beyond my comprehension under the microscope — I was a mere math student, thank you — Ino rambled on about the most random topics.
— I don't think 72 years is that insignificant... And by the time we reach that age, life expectancy will have increased, of course... In Brazil, it's already higher than that, because an average measure is prone to distortions, some countries will always pull the mean score lower: wars, famine, high infant mortality. — I replied, trying to remain optimistic.
She clicked her tongue in annoyance, without taking her eyes off the lens of the microscope. That wasn't the answer she wanted to hear: — Do you know why I chose Botany, out of all the branches of biology?
I could say yes and give common answers like "because you like flowers" or "because you want to run your family's flower shop," but I knew they were simply inappropriate. Ino and I had known each other since we were kids, and yet, if I had to walk inside her soul in the dark, as one does within the familiarity of home, I would stub my toe on a corner. Understanding her veered on the impossible. — No.
— Because fungi are fascinating, but they scare me. Plants are easy to understand, methodical even… But not fungi. They're not plants, they're not animals, and they're a little bit of both, so we had to create a new category to classify them. Some can save lives, like the genus from which penicillin is extracted, others can kill with their toxins, like Amanita phalloides... Some form symbiotic relationships with plants and are what sustain entire forests, connecting trees and sharing nutrients, while others feed off death and destroy everything in their path. They are both life and death, two sides of the same coin, and putrefaction exists regardless of everything. It's what started life and it's what will end it, closing the door and turning off the lights when there's no one else here.
Thinking about it made me shiver. Being in a grave, devoured by organisms without any awareness (at least that I know of!) of what they do, of what they are. Little by little I would become part of the land and part of the Earth. It’s beautiful, even if in a somewhat macabre way. — Someday I'll be a really cute red and white mushroom, and some biology student will pick me up and slice me up to analyze me under a microscope. — I replied, as I dodged the air conditioner and got closer to her.
— What happens after we die?
Another one of her existentialist questions. — Come on, if you wanted to discuss philosophy, you should have called Hinata, it's her area. I don't understand anything other than numbers and equations. To me, life is a series of formulas, chemical reactions and concentration gradients that cease when we die.
— Don’t you believe in heaven, hell, purgatory, reincarnation?
— I don't know. Should I?
— Wish I knew. Maybe we’re already in purgatory, or hell, and this life is nothing but a punishment. We have to atone for our sins, correct our mistakes, to move forward. When we die, we become free: free from conscience, free from weight. Just a white light surrounding us that erases everything.
I wish I could argue back and say that this could be heaven, but I'm not that optimistic. — Who knows…
— Wouldn’t you like to know?
I remember, during my time studying for confirmation, they told us that the forbidden fruit was an apple. But I also remember sometime later coming to the conclusion that the forbidden fruit was knowledge: ignorance is bliss. As much as I disagreed with this stupid saying, Ino's proposal made me stop for a second, with bated breath: wouldn’t I want to know? It was a tempting proposal, as much as it was a deal with the Devil himself. I always wanted to know everything, of course. I would have bitten the damn apple without thinking twice, like Eve did.
— Does it matter if we know?
The words flowed out of my mouth so easily that I even got surprised. Ino was also taken aback by my comment: — As expected of miss Sakura Haruno. — she said, laughing and turning to me, finally looking away from the stupid microscope — To you, knowing doesn't matter because you would keep fighting and moving forward as if nothing had changed.
— In heaven or hell, my definition of ethics does not change.
— Ah, you're right about that. If I knew I was in Hell now and that I was damned to spend eternity here, it wouldn’t matter if I found my existence comfortable before, I would stall like a spoiled kid and follow the advice from that old saying that says “if you are in Hell, embrace the devil”. But you would go on with your life, doing what is right even if you knew there was no salvation, simply because you do what’s right. Nothing beyond that.
— If you say it's because I'm as stubborn as a mule... — I already threatened to get up from my chair, a little annoyed.
Ino laughed. She had a truly infectious laugh, and it was impossible not to like her, you know? Even more so when she laughed like that, without worry, without limits. — If you say so, then I won't say it... By the way, do you know something that's also very interesting? Did you know that humans and fungi have a common ancestor from around 450 million years ago? This is why psilocybin works on us, because it’s pretty similar to serotonin, and acts on the same receptors. That's why it makes us happy.
I knew the name psilocybin. — Tell me you didn't take it before getting in here…
But Ino Yamanaka laughed again, and returned her gaze to the microscope, without answering me.
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psychoticwillgraham · 2 months
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part 1 of my big ass list of hannigram au’s that yall are free to do in case i never do them
for fans of this brilliant niche anime, an au of hozuki’s coolheadedness. that’s it, that’s the idea (I rlly need to rewatch it)
on that topic, an ugly Americans or your pretty face is going to hell au (that one has SO much comedic potential). in the UA au beverly and Will are roommates, I just need to rewatch these
a repo! the generic opera au: basic plot: obviously hannibal is the repo man and like in canon is Will’s ‘psychiatrist’ and Will has generally the same role. Will has to investigate a series of murders where the victims organs are taken and they’re displayed like art (like in the show), but geneco denies that the repo man did it because even they don’t have the organs that were supposed to be taken. obviously it’s hannibal, and it turns out that he’s gone rogue
fairy tale ish au: Will still has the same job as he does in the show, but is also a god of nature and righteous revenge (he investigates murders and also avenges them by catching and killing the killers). Hannibal is the same as in the show, but is a god that’s akin to being the devil, but not quite (im gonna have to work this out lmao). They have the same roles as in the show, but when they first meet, they both know of each other’s divinity.
fairy tale ish au vers. 2: OR the second option of not adhering to the show yet still the same divinity concept. hannibal would be the obvious, overtly ‘evil’ opposite of Will, but obviously in character if this makes any sense lol. They always encounter each other when Will learns of a murder and tries to avenge them by killing Hannibal.
purgatory au (version 1): there’s a cafe that’s on the border or life and death where souls from those in comas or near death experiences go to relax for as long as they need to before going back to the living world or start their journey to the afterlife.
purgatory au (version 2): Will dies, and wakes up in a bar in the middle of nowhere. turns out, it’s a ‘holding place’ for the souls whose final destination is undecided. it’s usually reserved for souls like Will’s that are deeply fucked up but still have a chance for redemption. Hannibal is the god of purgatory and has the last judgement on these souls where he’ll either send them to heaven (very rarely), hell, or doom them to roam the lands of purgatory for all eternity (who tempt souls like Will to commit grievous sins, therefore getting them sent to hell).
hannibal uses will as a vessel for demons to inhabit and uses said demons/black magic to torture him. eventually, Will learns how to harness the power of the magic/demons and uses them to torture and kill hannibal as his revenge.
my boy builds coffins (Florence + the machine song fic): -Will and Hannibal live in solitude, and Hannibal is a prolific serial killer and Will is a woodworker who makes wooden coffins for what’s left of Hannibal’s victims for the family of the said victim. Hannibal picks his target and kills them, and shortly after, Will visits the family to get input on what coffin the family wants for their loved one. They both attend the funerals, since this is a smaller community therefore everyone knows each other, and nobody ever suspects a thing. Hannibal throws a dinner party in celebration of the victim and invites their family while eating said victim without anyone knowing.
They have Abigail with them and teach her how to kill and prepare the meat and cover her tracks. eventually, Hannibal fucks up and accidentally kills someone very important in town, so he rushes home to Will to warn him that they’ve got until probably dawn to prepare to be captured. Will already made one coffin for each of them, and they’d already had a suicide pact made. So they spend their last night in each other’s arms and have sex for the last time.
At midnight on a full moon, they prepare to do it, and Hannibal informs Abigail that Will will die first, killed by Hannibal and dying in his arms, then Hannibal will prepare him for burial and place him in his coffin and bury him on the grounds of their property. Then Hannibal will kill himself over Will’s grave, and have Abigail prepare and bury him right next to Will. What Abigail does afterwards is entirely up to her, whether she decides to take her own life or leave the town and make a life for herself (everything’s been arranged if she chooses this). All of this happens and Abigail stays and informs the police of what happened, that it was a murder suicide. After the dust settles, she leaves and goes off on her own, returning to the house 10 years later, talks to the both of their graves, prepares herself and her coffin in a shallow grave, shuts the coffin lid and kills herself in it, in the grave just below Hannibal and Will’s.
Then it ends with the three of them becoming a local legend years down the road, about their reign of terror, meant to scare people away from the forest where they lived. Nobody disturbs the house and it rots, the three of them becoming more of an urban legend. The final scene describes a wandering traveler who happens on the dilapidated house and the graves, and sees Will’s ghost standing over a fresh coffin, which is a perfect fit for the person and done in the way they would want it to be done, and Hannibal and Abigail’s ghosts all staring at them and gesturing towards to coffin for them to get in. The person runs and we end on the sound of laughter from the three of them. (there’s gonna be some real creepy dialogue here about how Will made coffins for everyone, and that’s includes you, addressing the person)
non hannigram au’s
-Constantine/Will: AU where Constantine is in Virginia for some reason and ends up hearing tales of a local shut in (Will) out in remote Wolf Trap that everyone is absolutely sure is a God, one that’s been long forgotten by the world. He’s said to be able to see through anyone’s eyes, to experience their true nature due to his extreme empathy, to discern who is truly good or evil. But that gift, or rather curse, is what made him infamous. It eventually drove him mad, seeing through the eyes of the most wicked of humanity, empathizing far too much with those who killed and destroyed. It began to fundamentally change him, make him become a monster. So one day, he just vanished.
Abandoning those who worshipped him, just so he wouldn’t become a mad god. All of this time later, as the generations forgot him, he became secluded, choosing to be alone in a cozy little house, tucked away in an area of the woods where no mortal had access to. Nobody could get in, only he could get out, the only way in being if he favored you and subconsciously guided you to where he lay hidden away from the rest of the world.
John is immediately fascinated by this, knowing of the existence of ‘forgotten gods’, but never actually being able to track one down. Of course nobody actually knows what this god looks like, except that he prefers to look like a regular human and most likely walks among them every day going undetected. John is obviously not happy with the lack of clear leads on the god’s location or appearance, but decides to just hang around the town for a while as a vacation away from London.
That night, John dreams of a ravenstag, of being torn apart by faceless beings. But just as he thinks he’s about to die, the stag saves him and takes him deeper in the forest, safe and away from harm. When he wakes up, he’s in the same forest he dreamt of, extremely confused as to how he got there. But suddenly he feels an invisible pull, a deep, yet sweet slightly southern accented voice floating through his mind, guiding him on the suddenly revealed path. Eventually he comes upon the fabled god’s house, and finally sees the fable in the flesh.
Constantine/Will smut: After John has a particularly stressful and draining few weeks of cases, he asks Will to dominate him and take complete control, to not let him think for himself or make any decisions for a few hours, basically giving himself completely over to Will. Will is obviously nervous but agrees. At the end of the night, John cries, but not because he’s upset. He cries because this means that he’s finally able to trust someone like Will with something like this, to finally give up total control on his own terms and to trust someone else enough to be truly intimate. kinks included: choking, restraints/cuffs/rope/stuff like that, gags, heavy d/s and bdsm, humiliation, dirty talk, cock rings, orgasm denial, blood play, knife play, collars/leashes, consensual violence
schneeplebro: schneep is a scientist/doctor who rehabilitates magical creatures that have been injured or mistreated and one day, he gets a call about an angel (Chase) who had been captured by black market traders who had cut off his wings when he tried to escape, therefore making him no longer valuable to the rich ‘collectors’ who wanted him, so they left him to die in an abandoned building. schneep rescues him and begins to figure out a way to help him get his wings back through science.
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mishasminions · 3 years
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Here’s why the Supernatural Series Finale Sucked
(AND IT REALLY ISN’T JUST BECAUSE CAS/MISHA WASN’T IN IT)
First of all, I’d like to state, that this perspective is coming from someone who has watched, invested in, and dissected this show for 15 years. I’ve tried to rationalize and justify every single decision each of the main characters made throughout the years, and I’ve always tried to make sense of each of their story arcs from a “bigger picture” standpoint as each season progressed.
Anyway, before I can properly explain why the finale sucked, let me quickly take you through 15 seasons by segregating them into 3 eras, because you can’t really comprehend what Supernatural is about and what it’s become without going through how it tried to expand its universe.
SEASONS 1-5: THE KRIPKE ERA
Now, we all know that Kripke was always set in wrapping up Sam and Dean’s story in 5 seasons, and he did just that.
So, in this era, Supernatural is about two brothers who set out on a journey to fulfill “the family business”. They hunt mythical monsters that terrorize the world, while battling the monsters within themselves. Their ultimate “big bad” is an apocalypse.
Towards the end of this era, we find out that Sam and Dean are actually a parallel to Biblical characters who are brothers turned rivals. And that Sam and Dean’s destiny is to go up against each other.
However, as a dynamic, they have always been about making their own choices, choosing free will, and having a brotherly bond that can power through against any obstacle at any given day.
So, this era is neatly wrapped up with its finale. The characters grow, and get justified endings.
Dean, a man who thinks of himself as two things: 1. Sam’s older brother and protector; and 2. Daddy’s blunt little instrument.
He’s spent his whole life believing that that was his only purpose, and he knew that the only ending he’ll get would either be a bloody death fulfilling his duty to the family business; or laying his life on the line to save his brother.
Dean gets the ending he thought was never possible for him, something he thought he could never deserve. After years of living and dying for his family, he gets a shot at having an apple pie life--to settle down with a nice girl, raise a kid in a house with a white picket fence. With Sam gone, Dean’s responsibility now is to himself.
Sam, on the other hand, never wanted any part of it, because he wasn’t groomed the way Dean was, and because thanks to Dean, Sam wasn’t traumatized or forced into growing up too quickly the way Dean was.
So Sam aspires for a normal life, and works the cases with Dean so he can maybe get some semblance of it, when everything they set out to kill are laid to rest.
Ultimately, Sam performs a selfless act for his brother, who has given up everything for him, and for their cause--to save the world.
The journey is this: Dean sacrifices everything to save Sam, and Sam sacrifices himself so Dean could live.
Apart from being Dean’s “savior” and guardian angel, Castiel’s role in this era is to serve as a mirror to Dean’s journey. Castiel goes from being heaven’s foot soldier, following “God’s orders”; to an angel who learns to choose and feel for the first time in his existence.
After they realize that they’re both daddy’s blunt instruments, Dean starts choosing his own path for himself, and convinces Castiel to join him. Castiel stops following heaven, and starts following Dean.
In the end, with his newfound understanding of the world thanks to Dean, Castiel goes back to heaven to reform it.
We’ve resolved the biblical arc, and the character journeys.
SEASONS 6-10: THE SPIN-OFF ERA
So this is where the show realizes how vast its universe can be, so it tries to expand it by tapping into uncharted lands and experimenting with it.
They take on heaven, reform hell, explore purgatory, have the angels fall, turn Dean into a demon, and kill Death.
Dean and Sam recognize their codependency, and try to rise above it.
They go back and forth between which brother will risk it all for the greater good every other season.
Dean and Cas strengthen their relationship by recognizing the impact they have on each other’s lives.
Cas structures his life and decisions around Dean (Seasons 6-7), and Dean learns to trust and fight for Cas (Seasons 8-9).
Sam and Cas bond (mostly over Dean) because of their shared rationales in decision-making.
Dean, Sam, and even Cas also forge relationships with the people they work with. The concept of “found family” is introduced here.
This era was heavy on the plot while establishing, reinforcing, and solidifying relationships and dynamics.
At this point, it wasn’t just about the brothers anymore.
If Supernatural had ended in Season 10, the logical finale would’ve been Team Free Will, along with the family that they’ve found, going up against the latest big bad (Death or whoever). Maybe they lose them along the way, maybe they all make it out alive, or maybe they go down swinging, but at least the show recognizes and supports the message they keep saying, “Family don’t end with blood”
SEASONS 11-15: THE REWRITE ERA
This is where the show runs out of ideas and decides to invalidate the seasons that came before it.
From bringing Mary back (basically rendering their whole journey pointless because they’ve literally started hunting because of her death), to changing the stipulations in being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels (another character struggle rendered useless), to God himself breaking the fourth wall by saying that the Winchesters get away with everything because “they’re the main characters in his story and everything they’ve been through was just part of a badly written narrative”.
But what we’re getting from this era is that Sam and Dean, along with Cas (who has also deviated from the story) ARE trying to escape a badly written narrative.
That’s the “big bad” in this era. The writer.
At this point, the characters have picked up so many strays (including those from alternate universes), and have settled into their roles in their “found family”. Dean, Sam, and Cas all become surrogate dads and uncles.
They’ve also graduated from the whole “we’re on different sides” and “going behind each other’s backs” drama. And they just want the whole family together.
They’ve all resigned themselves to the cause, but they’re also tired. Dean allows himself to contemplate about wanting more out of life or at least getting a vacation. Sam, on the other hand, realizes his capabilities as an effective leader. Castiel learns to love another being that isn’t Dean (spoiler: it’s Jack).
However, they also realize that they’ve just been puppets on a string all this time.
So what they want now, is to write their own story, and make their own choices knowing that God/the writer isn’t the one fueling their narrative.
So here’s why the finale sucks:
Andrew Dabb, the current showrunner, said that there would be two finales.
15x19 - The finale to wrap up Season 15, and 15x20 - The finale to wrap up the series by “resolving the characters’ journey”
In 15x19 the boys find a way to de-power God/the writer. For the first time in their whole lives, they are free from the story. Their lives are completely theirs now. They can make their own decisions. There are no more “big bads” to fight
And here’s what happens in 15x20:
Immediately after being freed from their story arc, Dean and Sam go back to hunting the monster of the week.
Dean eats pie, gets nailed (literally), makes a 10-minute speech to Sam because he knows he’s dying, then he goes to heaven.
Dean is greeted by Bobby, his surrogate Dad who he hasn’t seen (fully alive) since Season 7. Bobby’s expository dialogue comprises of him explaining that he got out of heaven’s jail, that John and Mary are next door, and that Jack and Cas fixed the dynamics of heaven off-screen.
The first thing Dean decides to do is go for a long drive in his Impala (as if he hasn’t done enough of that already).
Meanwhile, Sam decides to stop hunting after Dean dies, he gets the apple pie life he hadn’t wanted since Season 8 (while Dean was in Purgatory), and names his kid “Dean” for effect. He grows old and dies.
Dean drove around in heaven for so long that Sam catches up to him.
They hug. The end.
Great, right?
After 15 years of struggling to battle their own respective destinies, going up against big bads and even bigger bads, then finally being able to take charge of their own stories, Dean and Sam regress to hunting the monster of the week, and get killed off by a nail and old age. Okay.
Sam gets to retire and have a family, sure, but they still focus on him and the kid he named after his dead brother. Still just “Sam and Dean” through and through. Nothing to do with found family. Just lineage. Just blood. And it ends there.
See, the problem here is that this ending would’ve been passable in The Kripke Era. But we’re 10 years down the road since, and while Sam and Dean are the original main characters, the show isn’t just about them and their codependent relationship anymore.
So you see, even if you take out the whole “Castiel deserves to be in the finale because he’s also a main character with an unfinished story arc” argument, the finale still does no justice to the series it tried to “wrap up”.
But anyway, now I’ll make the case for the problem with Castiel not being in the finale:
In 15x18, we get a 5-minute rushed confession from Castiel to Dean. The context of which are as follows:
1. Earlier in the episode, Dean had wounded Death with her scythe. We later find out that this wound is fatal.
2. Their friends start to “blip out” in a Thanos-like snap, and Dean thinks that Death is causing it, so Dean seeks her out, and Cas goes with him.
3. Dean and Cas anger Death, apparently for no reason because she didn’t even do the thing they thought she did. She chases them to try to kill them
4. Dean and Cas lock themselves in a room. Dean starts a pity party.
5. As Dean goes through hating himself out loud, Cas decides to inform Dean of the deal he made with The Empty. He then proceeds to explain the stipulation of the deal (that he would get taken once he experiences a moment of true happiness), then discusses his newfound happiness philosophy. Dean is getting whiplash.
6. Cas goes on to imply that the one thing that he wanted that he knew he couldn’t have is Dean Winchester reciprocating his romantic feelings for him. (Don’t even try to fight me on this because Cas already has Dean’s platonic love, and he knows that Dean thinks of him as a brother, so if he really meant this in a “familial” way, then why would he think that he couldn’t have the thing that would make him happy?) So Cas’ realization is that telling Dean about his feelings is enough to make him happy.
7. Cas tells Dean all the reasons why he loves him (thereby combating Dean’s self-deprecation tirade), and all the reasons why he’s worthy of his love. Meanwhile, Dean is still winded from the fact that Cas is about to sacrifice himself for him again.
8. Dean never gets to process anything, because Cas is shoving him out of the way, as he and Death (who busts through the door) get taken by The Empty.
After this episode, Dean never speaks of it. Misha Collins supposes that Dean doesn’t reciprocate. Jensen Ackles says that Dean didn’t really get to process it because it was too much, too fast, and that Dean, still dense as ever, thinks that Cas, a celestial being, doesn’t interpret human feelings the same way.
So what was the point of this confession?
Politics and sensitivities of a 2005 network television aside, what does this do for the story?
Cas proclaims his romantic feelings to Dean, but Dean never acknowledges it, doesn’t even give it a passing thought afterwards. So Cas’ big declaration goes unheard.
Cas cashes in on his Empty deal to kill Death (who was dying anyway), in order to save Dean who dies two episodes after.
Dean makes no effort to save Cas (despite being really broken up about his previous deaths, or even spending a whole year in Purgatory looking for him), even after they’ve beaten God, not even asking Jack (who has all the power in the universe) to bring him back (when Jack has already done it before, with less mojo).
Dean moves on to fight the monster of the week. Somewhere off-screen, Jack rescues Cas from The Empty, but Cas uncharacteristically doesn’t even bother to go to Dean? (Every single time he comes back, Dean’s always the first person he goes to)
And Cas, who apparently helped craft and reform the new heaven, isn’t the one who welcomes Dean and explains the new dynamics of it?
Sure, Jan.
Supernatural, you’ve created a finale that only your casual viewers and people who dipped out after Season 5 can appreciate.
Just goes to show how much you actually valued the people who actually invested in your story and characters, and consistently helped keep your show on the air.
[RT this on Twitter]
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dreamkidddream · 3 years
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Those Doll!anon fics were really amazing! I really wanna do something like it if you don’t mind. Could I maybe get a Yorkie!MC? Like, a really short, really friendly MC until they feel like they or one of the brothers/undateables are being threatened or insulted, then they try to pick a fight they’d obviously lose? I’m just laughing at the mental imagine of this short, unthreatening human yelling at and trying to square up against a demon lol.
Awww tysm!! 💙I missed writing for Obey Me (and we also hit 666 followers at this point 😈💜) and since this was so interesting I decided that I’m gonna do the Undateables first and then do the brothers cause I feel like I don’t show them enough love 😔 reader is gender neutral!
The Undateables with Yorkie!MC
Diavolo
He is LOVING your energy
Your happiness is so contagious, it just adds onto his already cheery demeanor. He honestly feels his cheeks hurting from smiling even more when you’re around (and he doesn’t even care!)
He’s gonna buy Lucifer so much Demonus as a thank you for picking you for the exchange program. Seriously, you’re PERFECT (for him)
As the President of Student Council and future King, he loves seeing you interact with the other students, and he’s glad that they’re reacting positive to you. At least some of them do
Now, no one is to foolish (or powerful) enough to threaten Diavolo or do anything to you that can bring you harm. They can try, but they won’t be getting the results that they hope for
But he can’t help it but find it amusing when you try to “defend his honor” when someone bad mouths him. He makes sure to not let it show (gotta be professional after all) but he does tease you about it later. You’re so small and seeing you just yelling square up to this demon is hilarious. He has no idea what geometry has to do with this, but he’s learned some new slang thanks to you!
He’s finally found someone who’ll go along with his antics and more. Whereas other people may complain about him wanting to do fun activities that seem basic, you just flash a big smile, grab his hand and tell him to lead the way
(You even made matching friendship bracelets and he refuses to take it off, ever)
You really make him happy MC. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this lighthearted, and he doesn’t feel the sense of loneliness that he felt himself getting used too
Also Lucifer gets twice the headache now, but the Demonus helps it go away (temporarily)
Barbatos
Ah, so another Luke, except older and that you take your threats of violence very serious, if what he sees (both in the present and the future) holds true (which it does)
You’re still harmless in his eyes though
Your friendly personality makes it easy for you to be forgiven for a lot of things…even if your actions make him give you the side eye at times
Despite how energetic you are (which is something that he’ll never grow tired of) your presence has a relaxing effect on him. Even if he has to warn you sometimes to be careful with the way that you bounce around so much, especially when he’s in the kitchen
He unfortunately can’t be by your side as he is Lord Diavolo’s butler, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t keep watch on you, even without the use of his powers
With how outgoing you are, you’re bound to attract trouble, in which you do at a constant rate. What was comical however, is that it seemed like the trouble you attracted was on his behalf
“MC, what seems to be the issue here?”
“BARB! You won’t believe this! This jerk has the nerve to call you stuck up- well I can show you stuck up! After I stick my foot up your- Huh? Hey, why am I the one being dragged away?! W- count yourself lucky that Barb is saving you right now demon! But this isn’t over- MPH!”
“I hate to spoil you before our tea party, but you were already late and I have been meaning to have you try my new recipe that I’ve been working on…”
You were too busy trying to savor the delicious flavor to focus on what just happen, which was his plan all along. You get to try more of his delicious treats and he gets to enjoy your touch and company. Crisis averted!
He’s crafty enough to have plans to evade you “fighting” and you haven’t caught on yet (or maybe you did and just feign ignorance? Either way works for him)
It doesn’t bother him what people say about him, he doesn’t care in the slightest (and they’re not bold enough to say it to his face). What he cares about is making sure that you keep your carefree energy, and that he keeps to see you with your radiating smile on your face
Simeon
You remind him so much of Luke. Are you sure you’re not from the Celestial Realm too?
Don’t worry he’s only teasing you (kinda) but you do have just as much energy if not MORE than Luke
And you don’t mind helping him either, no matter how “silly” his requests may be
“You’re doing great Si! See, you didn’t even need my help!”
“MC, I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you. My pictures are still coming out a little blurry, but that could be because you wouldn’t stand still- but it does add special kind of charm to them…”
He’s keeping them btw
He was shook when he saw you go off the first time, like he really wasn’t expecting it (Solomon did try to warn him, he was laughing but he did try to warn him)
“Don’t think just because he’s an angel means I’m bout to act like one! I will end you!”
MC please don’t make this demon “catch these hands” violence isn’t necessary
He doesn’t know what that means but he’s scared that he’s gonna find out if he doesn’t hold you back
He has reprimanded you each time when you try to fight others. He knows that demons see him as weak and talk behind his back, but he chooses to ignore them, to turn the other cheek. But just because he does, doesn’t mean that you do, and he sees that now
Simeon really doesn’t want you to fight, and it’s not even because it’s against his nature (it’s part of the reason, just not the whole reason). Fighting leads to injury, and injury leads to distress, and that’s the last thing that he wants to happen to you. And he’s not going to let anything happen to you!
He truly believes it’s a waste of time and energy, and you could find better things to do. For example, by spending time with him!
Simeon may not be your guardian angel officially, but he’s your guardian angel. Always
Has definitely written a character based on you
Luke
Is immediately upset that you don’t stay in Purgatory Hall with him, and even more upset that you don’t live in the Celestial Realm
You’re like the best older sibling he’s never had! And you don’t treat him like a baby either!
Or he’s just admiring you too much to notice
You never hesitate to help him with anything; baking, homework, pretty much anything and everything. He may try to make it seem like you need his assistance, but we all know it’s the other way around (with the exception of Luke himself)
We all know that Luke gets teased by the brothers and even his roommates sometimes (looking at you Solomon), but it’s just harmless teasing (for the most part). It’s when he hears what the other students say about him that gets to him- he tries to show that it doesn’t bother him and he tries to stand up for himself but- their words really hurt him
And no one hurts Luke and gets away with it
You already get onto the brothers for their teasing when it starts to bother him, and now the brothers have to jump in to stop you from trying to rip this demon horns’ off
You can’t really reach them and they’re pretty sure you won’t do any damage, but they rather not take the chance of you getting hurt
It’s not the first or last time that you do this either, and it just makes him feel horrible. He’s the angel here, the one that’s suppose to protect you, not the other way around!
You help him out so much, either without defending him you do so much for him already. How can he ever repay you? He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough…WAIT- he figured out what he can do!
He can get stronger and protect you! He can go to Beel so that you don’t have to fight for him anymore, or maybe have Solomon make some potions that’s like demon repellent but only for those jerks. If those mean demons see how serious and strong he is, then they’re bound to leave you guys alone! Maybe he can show you some tricks too once he’s done. He has to hurry up and tell you the plan then, you guys can’t wait any longer!
Their words do hurt, but so does seeing you putting yourself in harms way to protect him. You can’t do all the protecting MC, he needs to watch out for you too, no if ands or buts about it!
You and Luke are the duo we never knew we needed
Solomon
Ah, it’s about time he found a human as interesting and adorable as you. Where having you been hiding all his lifetime?!
He has wayyyy more fun teasing you than Luke. Your pout just makes things x100 better and cuter
Congrats on becoming his new victim MC
Another one to find you very amusing when you try to fight and won’t stop you either
He will dead serious be recording you trying to fight on his DDD. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t escalate but who is he to stop such entertainment?
He has become tempted to cast a superhuman strength spell on you, and he ends up doing it “on accident” (which has happened more than once)
Lucifer has done the “I’m watching you” thing to him every time he has lmao
But no seriously, he won’t let you get hurt; he won’t even let the chance arise. He’s already pulling you away before you can get yourself worked up fully, dragging you to the library or his room to test some new spells (one that he tempts you can use on these demons). It’s enough to get your attention back on him
You’re a daily source of his amusement and someone that he wants MC, but that doesn’t mean he can afford his favorite human getting hurt on his watch!
He’s no stranger to the gossip about him, nor is he clueless. It’s just all talk anyway, he doesn’t care and neither should you. But it is touching to know that you care this much about him and how he feels…
But he doesn’t want you to do this for him. He’s a powerful sorcerer, he can easily solve this without breaking a sweat if he wanted to, but he doesn’t deem it worthy to even waste a drop of potions on. But since you’re so concerned, maybe a quick kiss would make him feel better?
He thought you were a little gullible, but that’s not the case. You just have a very open and bright personality, one that he finds himself getting attached to more and more as each day passes
If he’s not careful, he might get more enamored with you than he already is-
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