#listen i cannot believe how many people all agree this man is an angel

[braisedhoney]

praying for this to reach target audience bc otherwise i’m probably throwing rocks at a puddle and expecting them to skip

#ney’s art #disco elysium #disco elysium fanart #kim kitsuragi #listen i cannot believe how many people all agree this man is an angel #and to be fair even the game agrees he has an actual goddamn halo #apologies to my crew members who have no idea who this guy is o7 bless you for sticking around lmao #working title for this was Kim Kitsuragi Propaganda btw #de fanart

[roo-bastmoon]

Let's get into the Angel Pt 1 controversy

Summary of Roo's Point: Please follow your conscience but do not bash Jimin for other people's crimes.

More in-depth analysis of the underlying issues:

Let me start by saying I'm a musical theater geek so I have no idea who any of the other artists on the Angel Pt 1 track are, I don't know their music, I don't know their backstories, and frankly, I don't really care to. But yesterday a full kerfuffle kicked off on Twitter with many people ready to cancel Jimin (and by extension, ARMY) for working on a song with someone called Kodak Black.

Who is Kodak Black?

Well, apparently he's a rapper who brought a high schooler back to his hotel from a concert and then ripped her clothes off and bit her and raped her but he entered a plea deal and got probation for it. Not to be confused for the times he had illegal fire arms, committed armed robbery, possessed marijuana, and tried to evade police. Or the time he punched and kicked a woman at a strip club. By all accounts he sounds like a total asshole, and not someone whose pockets I want to line with my hard-earned money, even if I weren't a survivor, myself.

I think we can all agree that Kodak Black is not the kind of person ARMY would ever want to support.

So if at any point you feel like you cannot get behind the Fast X movie or soundtrack because Universal chose to employ that man? Please feel free to boycott and sleep easy at night. That's your value-based decision and I respect it. Don't let anyone call you an anti for it.

However.

There is another legitimate take on this with regard to Park Jimin, and it's a bit more nuanced than simply "don't work with bad people."

For a decade, we've gotten to know who Park Jimin is. He is kind. He is considerate. He is gentle. He has excellent manners. He gives to charity. He obeys and honors his parents and elder members. He has never been violent. He has never broken the law. He respects women deeply. He is a hard worker. He is a good human being.

I can't help but recall how Jimin had absolutely no idea that the song he made was going to be in Eternals. Like, he didn't believe it at first.

Clearly, this company has some serious issues with communication and the handling of Jimin's releases. I could say more but we don't have all day for that.

It is therefore plausible to me that Jimin was approached for this song, possibly by Jvke. Jimin has said he's seen all the movies so we know he likes the franchise. Maybe he said sure, he'd love to sing for Angel Pt 1. So he recorded his parts and moved on to the next amazing groundbreaking industry-shattering piece of work on his schedule. And then Universal brought in other artists and no one said a thing to him about it.

And you might think there's NO WAY Hollywood wouldn't tell you who all you're working with. Listen, I never worked on any big productions, but I lived in LA for years and worked in entertainment long enough to know you could make something and months later find out it's a whole other thing with people you've never heard of, and you signed off your work and likeness so it is what it is and you gotta live with it and not make waves, especially if you ever wanna work in that town again.

Then again, maybe Jimin met the rest of the artists during the filming of the music video. Maybe he knew Kodak Black was on this song. Maybe he, like me, had no idea of that man's past and never once imagined someone with a rap sheet that long would be in such a large-scale production in the first place.

Or maybe he did know, because it appears Kodak Black is billed as a "creator" of the song, but as an industry professional, he also knows nothing is ever totally clean or pure in this business. So oftentimes in entertainment, you will see people mentally separate the art from the business.

(Side note: To be honest, nothing is ever clean or pure that you pay to consume. The wage slaves sweating in the shops that make the clothes on your back or the device you're reading this post off of. The migrant workers toiling for pennies and living in communal shacks for the veggies in your salad. The animals crammed into horrific crates and slaughtered inhumanely that end up on your plate. The earth that's raped every time you write on a sheet of paper or put gas in your car. The plastics in all of our products are also in our landfills, our oceans, our blood streams. We all of us live and consume off the suffering of others. Doesn't mean we shouldn't fight for a better world--of course we should--I'm just saying, none of us consume anything that's "perfect" and cancel culture fails to acknowledge that.)

Which brings me back to the point about boycotting. If you feel like you just cannot support the business of employing someone like Kodak Black, that is a worthy choice and no one should bully you for it or label you an anti. But please do not consider Jimin "tainted by association." Because everyone is associated in one way or another with harmful people and practices. You'd never get to consume anything ever, if you could only consume things made by "good" people.

For my part, I don't believe Universal will see people refusing to stream or buy Angel Pt 1 and think "Gosh, we shouldn't have hired a man who batters and abuses women, it will hurt our bottom line on this soundtrack, we were very mistaken, let's do better." Maybe they will, but probably they won't. They have yet to even witness the buying power of ARMY anyway so they have no results to compare a boycott to. It's already a done deal and they will likely pull this shit again if it's expedient to do so.

On the other hand, this is Jimin's first OST for a major motion picture and I intend to support the hell out of it. I think it's a good song and I want Jimin to be seen by the industry as a safe bet to bring in numbers. I think the more projects he has, the more opportunities he has to promote good people and good music as alternatives. I say this AS A SURVIVOR OF SEXUAL ASSAULT who is no way making light of sexual assault. It frankly galls me that by association, Kodak Black (and numerous other unknown assholes) will benefit. But I'd rather that than, by association, Park Jimin suffer.

And I'll square with you: I think Justin Bieber, Charlie Puth, Park Jay, and others are opportunistic assholes problematic and it galls me that they will benefit by association with BTS members. But on a case by case basis, I will choose whether to support BTS members' collaborations. So far, I'm still all in. That's what feels right for me, according to MY conscience.

I cannot dictate to you what your conscience should tell you. That's between you and your soul, and it's no one else's business. Do your will and harm none. Trust yourself and honor your limits.

So if at any point you feel like you cannot support JK's Dreamers because of the horrible inhuman treatment of the World Cup stadium workers, abstain. If you cannot support Jimin with Angel Pt 1 because of Kodak Black's inexcusable violence, abstain.

But please do not lay the crimes of others at BTS' feet. They are responsible only for themselves, and we have seen they are sometimes not given complete information around their projects. I'm certain they do their best. When it's clear that a collaboration would go against their values (such as playing for their current president's inauguration), they decline. When they have the opportunity to make informed decisions, they usually decide well. But not always, because the members are human too.

I guess my point of this ramble is... human beings will be human. They are flawed. They inevitably make mistakes. Intention goes a long way. I can make a pretty clear-cut case that Kodak Black intentionally caused harm. So I'm happy to not support his art or business ventures and I hope after a lot of soul searching he becomes a better person but I'm not holding my breath. However, I cannot make a clear-cut case that Park Jimin endorses the harm Kodak Black caused just because he lent his voice to a song Kodak Black is also now a part of. Not yet, not without Park Jimin making a statement defending Kodak Black.

Until he does, I'm not going to hold Jimin responsible for anyone's choices except his own. I trust Jimin. He's earned it. So I'm going to support Jimin.

If you very strongly feel like I'm choosing to do harm here, that I'm anti-feminist, or a rape apologist, or a fan girl making light of serious crimes, please protect yourself and block me. You go ahead and do what you need to do to police your own experience. But I worry that eventually you are going to find yourself in a very lonely, very sparse and dull echo chamber, because that sad truth is... nothing and no one is pure. Certainly not in business, and rarely in art. Considering one out of four women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetimes, it's a safe bet that almost every song or movie you've heard of is somehow benefitting a man who was part of it and who has also abused a woman. I know k-pop idol culture heavily manufactures this PG13 image of artists but the truth is the world of entertainment is a cesspool and a viper pit, and we are very lucky to stan seven artists who are, by and large, truly good people. That's super rare.

My unsolicited advice is to take everything on a case-by-case basis and listen to your gut. Support Angel Pt 1. Don't support Angel Pt 1. It's a deeply personal choice what you endorse with your money.

But please miss me with trying to cancel Jimin, or any of the members, for other people's crimes.

Shunning, dogpiling, mobbing, shaming--cancelling people--those are Mean Girl tactics, designed to make people afraid to work with the "unworthy" and it doesn't work in the long run. (Extended, organized boycotts do work because money talks loud. So feel free to boycott if you want to.) But ruining people's reputations because of who their coworkers happen to be is in no way helping solve the actual problem.

If your goal is to make it so big studios don't employ rapists, keep the heat on the rapist and call out Universal and Kodak Black.

If your goal is to support Jimin, then trust and support Jimin and his songs.

Where those two goals conflict, trust your gut. That's all anyone can ask of you.

For my part, I choose Jimin.

Whatever choice you make--as long as you aren't bashing Jimin--I can respect it.

That's pretty much all I have to say about that. Feel free to disagree but keep it kind and respectful in the comments, please...

Love,

Roo

#jimin #park jimin #angel pt 1 #jikook

[leandra-winchester]

Trans people aren't a threat to cis women

We need to stand together with them bc as women we understand what it's like to feel unsafe, to feel targeted and to feel governments at large don't care about our protection.

To have people not care if we're attacked, assaulted and killed. A reality trans people face as much as cis women do.

I know you are intelligent, we've spoken and you are methodical and logical. But you are hitting the exact same speaking points TERFs always do.

Bc TERF mentality needs you to believe that cis women are the victims of the trans movement. Otherwise it's just needlessly hateful bigotry.

The examples are also on an individual level, as opposed to the system wide threat trans peoples existence is under.

I... Seeing you write that was genuinely shocking. And disheartening. I know you said you wanted to write a calmly thought out post about this, but the end result would have been the same regardless.

I know these words of mine won't undo 3 years of this.

I'm not going to say something scathing bc we have spoken before and I believe that you do want the best for others, and that you value nuance and taking other View points into account.

But I do think that you've listened to enough TERF rhetoric claiming they're the victims that you believe that to be the case.

I know most likely you will rebut some points in this, and I'm willing to try and discuss it with you though not tonight

Scrolling past that post, I was actually floored to see you had written it. It's rocked me a bit. But that offer is open

I agree with you. Trans people are no danger to women. Normal trans people who just want to live their lives, who want to live free from discrimination and find ways to alleviate their dysphoria. I have absolutely no issue with them; I support them and their rights.

But - and yes, I am rebutting here - the TRA movement doesn't and shouldn't reflect all trans people.

Please explain to me how it can be seen as okay or justified for any of them sending rape and death threats to "TERFS". I posted the receipts of those instances, and said those were only a tiny, tiny portion of all the verbal and physical violence that has been well-documented over the past.

At some point you have to realize that these people have hijacked a movement. They are not "on the right side of history".

The bare minimum basis for any kind of meaningful discussion, imho, is to acknowledge that such activism is going more than just one step too far.

We can talk about bathrooms (which is something I have a very nuanced opinion on and have listened to both sides, understanding both). We can talk about what alternative there should be for incarcerated trans women so that they can be safe from male violence, too. We can talk about all of that.

But we cannot talk about literal threats of violence and some of the worst kind of misogyny being in any way justified.

I can return the kindness and compliment that you are a logical and compassionate person. If that is the case and my impression isn't wrong, then this is something you must condemn!

Also, as for what "rhetoric" I've listened to. It's been a very diverse selection of people and sources. Many of them leftist, many of them academics, women who have devoted their lives to truth and science such as Dr. Debra Soh, Kathleen Stock; and trans people like Debbie Hayton.

Even if I hadn't listened to anyone else but these three, my opinion on these matter would be the same.

The term "TERF" is utterly meaningless these days, because everyone who doesn't agree with the established narrative is labelled a TERF. Buck Angel, trans man, has been called a TERF ffs.

The thing is, we aren't arguing over actual talking points here. That's hardly ever the approach and conversation. It's always just about who is a TERF and which side is bad. It's never about the details. And that's not how discourse works. But we cannot have actual discourse because if always gets shut down with matras such as "oh but that's TERF rhetoric."

Okay, so maybe it is. And then I'm embracing that. Because it's utterly meaningless.

So yes, let us talk about actual points here instead of who is called what by whom.

Actual point I'm proposing to start with:

What can and should we do with people who claim to be trans women once they get arrested/sentenced, and who have committed acts of sexual or other violence against women? Is their chosen identity valid? And if so, is that validity more relevant than the safety of women in the prisons they are being sent to? In short: does a chosen (and not even psychologically backed and assessed) identity trump women's lives?

(Funnily, when I or others asked this question 3 or 2 years ago, people always refuted it by saying "oh that won't happen. That's just TERF rhetoric. That's not a thing". Well, it provenly is a thing now. Isla Bryson, Barbie Kardashian, and many many more)

The ball is in your court.

#feminism #trans rights activism #male violence

[cherryfabi]

Angels Like You- 1

A/N: Hi! This will be a new series. It is inspired by Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus. I hope you like it! Feedback is always welcome. 

Warnings: Cheating, smut, daddy kink. I think that's all.

Word Count: 2.5k

It all starts with a lie. People are used to saying them. At times they are necessary, but we find ourselves in trouble when more and more derive from them, creating a vicious circle.

It is foolish and irrational to believe that lies will never be known.

And for the past six months, Harry and Y/N have been doing just that. They’ve been lying. They've been seeing each other despite the fact that they both knew they shouldn't and couldn't, but they did anyway. We humans love the forbidden. We love everything that we know we cannot have. Every human falls into temptation, always. Harry and Y/N were no exception to this.

Both of them met when Y/N’s boss, Jeff, asked her to accompany him to an important dinner, she agreed. What she didn't know was that she was going to find the man of her dreams there, but unfortunately, he was already married.

It was none other than Mr. Harry Styles who Jeff was meeting that night. A serious, wealthy, attractive, and hardworking individual. He was well-known all over the world because he owned major corporations, hotels, and other businesses.

It is safe to say that he is everything a woman wishes for in a man. Every woman wanted to be with him. Everyone loved him because, after all, what's not to love about him? He’s successful, kind, respectful and handsome. What is there not to love? Well, maybe there is something... he's not who he appears to be.

Nothing is ever how it seems, and Harry is no exception; Y/N knows this better than no other person in the world.

It was late at night, and Harry was lying next to Y/N in her bed, talking about anything and everything. His business, his marriage, his life, and his issues. She cuddled up to him and listened to him. One of Harry's favorite things about her is how good of a listener she is. He also knows she’s trustable and nonjudgmental.

They lay in silence after Harry is finished, just enjoying each other's company.

“What’s on your mind?” Y/N asks him.

“You.” He answers immediately.

“Me?” He gives her a nod and she giggles.

“I’m thinking about all the things I want to do to you right now.” He says.

He kisses Y/N on the lips, she smiles and wishes it would never end.

“Let me get you out of these pajamas, princess.” Harry whispered in her ear.

Y/N quickly stands up and lets him get rid of her clothes.

He looks at her with hunger in his eyes and she can’t help but giggle a bit from how he’s looking at her.

“You look beautiful, angel.” He says. “Tits so nice, baby. So hard and perky for me.”

He leans down to reach her breasts and sucks on them. Harry loves her breasts, he always tells her how much he loves them.

“Could spend all day on your tits alone, but I know you're aching between your legs.” He says. “Right?”

“Yes, daddy.” Harry hated being called ‘daddy’, but that changed soon after the word slipped out of Y/N’s lips. Now, he loves being called that, but only if it is Y/N who’s saying it, otherwise he would find it weird.

He starts to kiss his way down to her crotch.

“I’ve barely done anything and you’re soaking, love.” He says once he reaches her pussy. “You smell so good,”

Just when he was about to have a taste of her, she interrupted him.

“Why do you still have clothes on? It's not fair, I’m the only one naked.” She pouts.

“Can you just let me do what I want?” He says. “You know what? I’ll just fuck you. I won’t even waste my time getting you ready, you’re already dripping.” He says, taking his clothes off.

His cock springs up hitting his abdomen. His tip swollen and red.

Seconds later she watches him position himself between her. He takes one of her legs and places them on his shoulder.

“This is what you wanted, didn’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N answered. “Please, daddy, fuck me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, so tell me if it hurts.” She nods. “Love when you’re a good girl for me, makes me feel so good when you’re a good girl for me. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

He stares at her pussy for some seconds before slamming into her causing her breath to hitch, and her walls to clench so tight around him she feels her pussy is pushing him out from the tightness.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, nearly pushing my cock out.” He moans. “Clench around me.” He orders.

She listens to him and clenches her tight cunt around him. His trusts get harder by each passing second. He pushed his hips in a constant rhythm, pushing into her roughly. The thrusts got so rough that every time he’d thrust into her, the headboard would hit the wall with a loud noise.

“This is all you are to me, just a tight hole that I can fuck.” He moves one of his fingers to her clit and starts moving it in circular motions. Her moans get louder, and Harry starts to push into her faster and deeper, so fast that she can’t control the noises coming out of her mouth. The pleasure was too much for her and she tried to close her legs, but she didn’t succeed since Harry removed his finger from her clit and pressed her thighs really far apart. She knows that if he continued with this, she wouldn’t last too long and Harry would not let her come. It’s too soon, he would obviously not let her come just yet.

He starts circling her clit faster and harsher than before and she closes her eyes with pleasure. Even though she can’t see him, she knows what face he has right now. Eyebrows furrowed while he stares where their bodies connect. His breath getting uneven and his grunts increasing, meaning he’s not going to last either.

“I’ve fucked you so many times and you’re still so tight. Can barely move.” He moans.

He then starts to circle her clit again, trying to make her come.

In no time she feels that familiar build in her stomach. Her legs start to shake uncontrollably, fighting so hard to not come. She knows she can't come, not when he hasn't explicitly told her that she has permission to do so.

“Daddy, I’m about to come. Can I come?” She asks between moans, not sure if she could take it anymore.

He removes his finger from her clit. “Come,” He says.

So she does, she comes immediately after he says the word.

Soon after she feels him twitch inside of her and hears him grunt so deeply before talking to her.

“I can come inside of you, right?” He asks. She barely registers what he’s saying but nonetheless, she nods.

He thrusts into her slowly two more times before he spills all his warm come inside of her.

He stays inside of her for some seconds before slowly pulling out.

“You did so good, princess.” He tells her. She knows his orgasm hit him just as amazing as hers by the tone of his voice.

He lays back beside her. She cuddles him while they try to recover their breaths.

Y/N enjoys the comfortable silence there is, but she also does not like it. Everytime they finish fucking, she feels guilt. She feels guilty for messing around with a married man. Sure, she is aware that his marriage is failing and that Harry is dissatisfied with his current wife, but Y/N is also aware that this is not morally correct. She is well aware that she should not be doing this. And the ring on his left hand is proof of it.

She also feels pain, though. See, this is the thing about their affair: they both knew they had to keep whatever they had a secret. They couldn't reveal what was going on between them to the rest of the world. It would have been damaging for both of their reputations. She wished they could show the world how happy they were together, but they were unable to do so. Nonetheless, she wished for it.

Both he and she have enjoyed their secret relationship, of course, to different extents. Y/N knew Harry was only interested in her company and the incredible sex they shared, but Y/N fell for him, she knew the feeling was not reciprocal. She didn’t exactly know how to put into words what she felt for him, but whatever it was, she knew that this feeling was just one-sided. Whatever feelings she had for him were irrelevant at the end of the day; they couldn't be together for more than one reason.

“Harry?” She breaks the silence, he hums in response. “What are we? What am I to you?”

Harry turns to look at her.

"Y/N, I'm married, you know we can't be together even if I wanted to."

"Even if you wanted to?" She repeats. "So even if you weren't married, you still wouldn't want to be with me?" She gets out of bed and puts on her clothes.

"That's not what I meant, Y/N. Don't put words I didn't say in my mouth."

"Yes, you may not have said them, but isn't that the truth?" She sighed.

He doesn't respond and this infuriates her.

“I’m taking that as if I am just a good fuck to you.” She answers. He turns to look away. “I’m sick of this, Harry. I’m tired of the role I play in your life. I’m tired of the lies; I think we should stop this, we shouldn’t have started this in the first place.”

“You’re the only thing that makes me happy at the moment, I don’t want to lose you.” Harry spoke.

“You’re unbelievable! You're married, Harry! Right now, you should be with her, making your wife happy, and she should be making you happy as well, not me. You’re using me, and I'm not going to put up with whatever we've got right now.”

“How come you’re bringing this up now? We’ve been doing this for almost seven months now, and you have never complained about it, what’s different now?” He’s mad now too.

“If you want to stay with me, then divorce her. You always tell me you’re unhappy with her, then divorce her. I want a stable relationship; I'm tired of playing games; I want a normal relationship.”

“Y/N, you know I cannot give you what you’re asking for.”

“Then go, Harry. Get out of my house. Clearly you are never going to give me what I want, I’m done wasting my time.”

Harry sighed, knowing that there was nothing else he could do or say to make it better.

At the end of the day, she was right. He couldn’t give her what she wanted. So, really, what else could be done? Both of them stood in different places in their lives, and there was no way they could’ve made it work.

They both knew their relationship would end eventually, but neither expected it to end this way, on this day. Their relationship had ended for good; it was the most natural thing that could have happened.

Harry deep inside always knew that he didn’t deserve Y/N. He knew she deserves someone who would give her their entire love, someone who did not keep her a secret, she deserved someone much better than him... but he was too selfish to admit this.

“If that is your final decision, I will respect it. Bye, Y/N.”

And this is what Y/N meant when she said that she knows him and knows that he is not what people think he is. She knows that the only thing he cares about is himself, no one else, even if he tells you otherwise. And this is just what he has done. He’s trying to make her feel guilty for the decision she just made, but she will not let this affect her because she knows that he is as guilty as she is.

Harry might seem like a good and wise man, but on the inside he is a misery.

Y/N knows that he hurts people without remorse. And she has just experienced this firsthand.

Now all she has left to do is move on from this and live the normal life she used to have before she met Harry.

___

It's been two months since Y/N saw Harry for the last time. Two months since Y/N lies alone in her bed, not knowing anything about him. Two months since they shared their last kiss. Two months had passed since they called it quits.

After the breakup, Y/N is doing the best she can be. A breakup is never easy, but theirs was even worse. It was even harder for her to overcome because it was full of secrets, lies, and toxicity. But right now she’s alright. She has realized that she likes the life she has right now, there are no secrets, no lies… she likes it way better, but a part of her still misses him.

She deeply regrets getting with a married man. But on the other hand, she does not regret having met him. With him, she lived one of the best months of her life. She got to know a side of herself that if it weren't for Harry, she might never have known. Not everything with Harry was so bad at the end of it all.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you about something.” Jeff said to her.

“Yes?”

“Come in and take a seat.” Jeff said, indicating Y/N to come inside of his office. “So do you remember Mr. Styles?”

When Y/N heard his surname, a last name she thought she'd never hear again, she tensed up. “I do.”

“Good, well, he was just talking to me a few moments ago and said he needed an assistant, and I immediately thought of you.” He gave a warm smile. “I think you're a fantastic assistant, and you'll make a lot more money with him than you are here. He's also an amazing boss. What do you think? I believe this would be a fantastic opportunity for you.”

“But I’m your assistant.” Was all she managed to say.

“Don’t worry, at the moment I don’t think I need one, but he does. What do you think? Would you be interested?

Y/N knew that this would be a great opportunity, and she would have an amazing salary, but was it worth it? She was well aware that Harry and her were not on the best terms, but she knew that this job was a great opportunity.

“Sure, I’ll take it.” She said.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles and reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

i only chose this because of you

jimmy novak character study for father’s day, 1.3k. read on ao3 here.

Everybody wants to be a father.

Oh, you don’t need children to be a father--you can parent a dream, you can foster hope, you can say a kind word to a lonely person.

There, you’re a father.

But Jimmy doesn’t believe this.

He’s unable to understand what his friends feel when they speak of marriage, of fatherhood, of new life in this world. He feels like something’s missing; is there something wrong with him, that prevents him from feeling this way, like he’s supposed to want all of these things?

When Jimmy meets Amelia, he doesn't love her immediately.

He likes her. A lot. But like is not love and so at first they are study partners, friends, each other’s ride homes. Then there are first kisses, first dates, and first fights. A first time, that they are both sure God will condemn.

But fire does not rain down upon them, and they live. Graduate. Marry. Buy a house.

He is not sure who he would have married if not her.

Because the others--no.

He has heard it enough at church, shouted from the pulpit. People like that will burn in the fire of hell.

Jimmy is safe with Amelia, and he is happy with Amelia.

But something is still missing.

------------------------------------

Two years later, Amelia gets pregnant.

For their families, it’s a great source of joy. A grandchild, a niece or nephew, someone to coddle and pin the Novak hopes and dreams onto.

It’s more complicated for them.

What their families do not know is the woe of many doctors appointments, of nurses’ worried expressions during sonograms, of medicine and praying and laying on of hands.

This child could die before they even get to meet her.

Jimmy’s relationship with God is tenuous--they used to be friends, Jimmy thinks, before people started telling him he was going to die in God’s name.

(If they did not know they were speaking to Jimmy--does that make it okay? No, he decides.)

But he needs something to believe in, so he prays anyways, and maybe God is listening at the time, because when their daughter is finally born, she is healthy. More importantly, she is alive, and that was all Jimmy had let himself hope for.

They name her Claire. It means bright and clear, and she is certainly a light in Jimmy’s life. He is beginning to understand those who want to be fathers--because there is no one more precious than Claire. The silence, the cavern inside of him, is deafening, but when he is with his daughter, in the late night hours in her nursery with a bottle, it feels a little bit fuller.

And Amelia is happy, with a child around.

So he has no choice but to smile.

------------------------------------

Amelia gets a job.

It’s at the library, and she loves it, wears cardigans and floral dresses and runs out the door, off to do something very important.

Jimmy sells ad time and he doesn’t love it at all. He feels lonely and like he’s not doing any good in the world by trying to get people to buy things. His God warns of overabundance, but Jimmy is empty most of the time. He lies awake at night, his wife asleep, Claire in the next room murmuring to her stuffed animals as she drifts into slumber.

Amelia’s job is less flexible than Jimmy’s, and so he begins to be the person who takes Claire everywhere. Dance recitals, soccer practice, school, friends’ houses...her car seat takes up permanent residence in the back of his car, the pockets of his trenchcoat filled with candy wrappers, tissues, rocks she found on the playground.

He learns how to dress her, and then how to argue with her about how he’s dressed her, how to plait her long, blonde curls. Claire is developing a personality--stubborn, funny, clever, curious.

Full of heart.

He loves her more each day, even as he slips away from this world, anchored only by her drawings from class on the fridge and her sparkly, light-up sneakers left right in front of the door.

Then the voice comes.

------------------------------------

The voice’s name is Castiel, and Castiel is an angel.

Jimmy hears Castiel only when he is alone--on the radio, in pictures on the television, or just in his head. Castiel tells him to do many things--prove your faith. Prove your strength. And Jimmy does them.

The things his pastors and fellow churchgoers have said must be done to prove one’s faith are far less painful than what Castiel asks of him. Castiel says there’s a task for Jimmy--that Jimmy is the only one who can do it. The hole inside him is starting to fill with echoes of the angel’s voice, night and day.

Claire notices nothing different--she still pulls him to her room to play with dolls, still shows him all her assignments from school. He puts her 100 on a math test on the fridge, stacks up her books for reading class. Bridge to Terabithia. Charlotte’s Web. The Westing Game. Kids sure talk a lot about death.

But Amelia notices, and she tells Jimmy’s doctor, but he doesn’t take the medicine.

Amelia thinks he’s slipping.

Jimmy thinks he’s better than ever.

When Castiel finally asks him if he can borrow Jimmy’s body and use it as a vessel, Jimmy only asks one question.

“Will my family be okay?”

Castiel promises yes.

So Jimmy replies in kind.

------------------------------------

For almost a year, Jimmy watches the world through the angel’s eyes. He hates and loves Castiel at the same time--for wearing his face, for wanting the Righteous Man, for saying to his daughter I am not your father.

He just hopes Claire is safe, like Castiel promised.

From inside his own skin he watches his hands smite and heal and hold and when he finally gets out and as himself meets the Winchesters, those for whom all this trouble was apparently worth, he vows never to go back.

It’s like being strapped to a comet, he tells them.

He gets to have dinner with Claire again.

Amelia is wary, and Jimmy understands. The angel has burned him, carved the hole wider instead of truly filling it, and Jimmy wonders: if this is an angel, what is God like? Where is He, if this is what is happening on His earth? Monsters and Lucifer and the apocalypse impending?

Jimmy cries over dinner, cannot pray. Not to God. Not to anyone. He is ready to return home, to hang up that trenchcoat--he is done traveling--and leave this behind. Leave saving the world to the Winchesters and their friends.

But instead a demon comes.

There is a scuffle, ropes and burning and Jimmy is nearly dead by the end of it all, delirious as his hair is smoothed back by his daughter, but it’s not his daughter.

“Your time is done,” the angel says.

Jimmy shakes his head. This can’t be how it ends--Claire doesn’t deserve to get her soul carved out, but Jimmy does, he’s already halfway there.

“Take me instead,” is what he says to the angel wearing his daughter’s face, but what he means is, let this not all be in vain. Let my last act be saving her. Let her live.

Castiel says Jimmy will die.

Jimmy says he knows this. He knows, deep inside, he was dead from the beginning. It just took some time to accept it.

The angel agrees to the deal, and Jimmy Novak is burned out from the inside, and is no more.

------------------------------------

Years later, in Heaven, a guest arrives, a woman who looks familiar, who has tears in her eyes, who rushes into his arms. His wife. Amelia. All he can ask is how is she? And Amelia tells him, she is beautiful. You would love her.

Jimmy does love her. That is why he did not watch her grow up.

#offbeatwrites #sorry everyone #the last line made me cry to write it #implying that Jimmy Novak is queer my beloved #in this house we love Jimmy Novak <3 Love To Study That Man

[lengthofropes]

POVs series

Part 3: Jack

(Part 1: Cas is here)   (Part 2: Sam is here) - can be read as separate stories 

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words: 5,4k | smr: Jack’s POV as Cas returned from the Empty / Heaven rebuilt  | read on A03

rating: general | warnings: none 

———-

This is my little contribution for dadstiel week <3

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“Any thoughts?” I ask. 

Castiel looks around. The room is empty. Light within the white walls and ceiling is flashing every few seconds. Heaven looks like abandoned office building after significant staff cuts. 

“It’s so quiet here” he says. He looks despondent. “This place was so full of power and light. My brothers and sisters… If I knew it all will end this way…” 

I come closer and touch him by the arm. This must be hard for him, I understand, but this is why we are here - to fix. This is why I asked for his help, who else can be a better adviser?

“This is not the end, don’t say it. We are here to make a new start”

He looks at me, and slowly his face eases from pain and regret. I know, he believes in me. Like always.

“Will you help me? I can’t make it without you”

He smiles, finally. It’s a warm smile, full of gratitude and love. 

I made a right decision, now I’m sure, he is glad to help. But after all, he’s the one who taught me, that it makes you feel so much better, if you’ve got the opportunity to make things right.

“Sure, Jack” he nods. Then adds, quietly “Thank you…”

I smile back at him, I can’t hold it. This is going to be great! Energy fills me. We always have so much fun, working together, it feels encouraging to have him near.  No matching ties this time, but it’s okay. 

It’s good that time flows differently here. We got so much work to do… and when I will bring him back on Earth, it’s gonna be just a couple of days, I guess? At least I hope I won’t take us longer, I’m not sure I can handle another conversation with grumpy Dean. It’s hard to keep a straight face, when he’s like this. Yeah, I understand he’s worried and he doesn’t want to let Castiel out of his sight, but he’s gonna be with me. With ME, Dean! I need my father’s help with something, can I spend some time with him, too?  

I’ve waited enough time for Castiel to feel better again. Until he’s strong enough after coming back from the Empty. All is well now. 

All is good.

“Alright!” I clap my hands. “Where do we start?”

***

We walk empty corridors, discussing our strategy. 

“Angels were supposed to be guardians, shepherds.” Castiel says. He’s calm and thoughtful. “We were born to protect our father’s creations. We are soldiers on guard of peace and prosperity. Not the blunt instruments of war.” 

“I guess you are the only one who understands it right” I nod. 

He is. He was bullied so often for having too much heart, it’s ridiculous. By the creatures, spoiled with pride, lust for power and profit. Where are they now? 

“You’re too kind” he smiles humbly.

“I am the way I am, thanks to you. Thanks to our family.” It’s a simple truth, and we both know it. His smile grows, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. 

The light is flickering again, but much more intense this time, walls are shaking.

“It’s getting worse…” There’s concern in Castiel’s voice. “I am amazed this place is still holding on.”

“Yeah. Not enough angelic power. I remember Dumah tried to make me create angels beings by forging human souls, to return Heaven it’s might.” 

Castiel rolls his eyes, definitely not the best one of his memories. But hey, not my fault, anyway. Besides…

“They all are dead now. It was a bad idea.”

“Any manipulation with human soul is a bad idea. What was she thinking?” He seems to be still angry about that. And I fully support him, but the question stands. 

“I don’t think we can rebuild it in any other way. Heaven needs angels, they are the essential source of it’s power.”

Shaking has stopped, the light is dim, but at least it doesn’t flicker anymore.

“I know”, Castiel agrees with heavy exhale. “How many are left there? Nine? Ten?”

“Eight” I purse my lips. “Seven up here, including Naomi, who’s still in jail”

“Still?” 

“Yeah. Seems like no one likes her…”

“I can’t blame them” Castiel deadpans, and it makes me laugh.

“And Anael, she’s still on Earth” 

“Oh, the famous businesswoman”

“Yeah.”

He gives me the look.

“Should we… talk to her?” I don’t want to, but I have to ask anyway.

“We should” he says unenthusiastically. “But…”

“Not now?” 

“Not now” he agrees, squinting his eyes.

“Later” 

“In the last place”

“When she will rethink her life choices”

“Absolutely” he nods again, dead serious.

I crack first and he follows immediately, it’s good to hear his laugh.

We keep snickering, passing the heaven rooms. Number 257, number 259… This corridor seems endless.

“You know,” I start. “When I first got here, I thought it looks more like a prison. Or! Like an aquarium for a goldfish!”

“Small tank for a single soul?” Castiel raises his eyebrow.

“Yeah! And people here are like a fish. You know, goldfish has a 3 seconds memory? It forgets everything, before it starts another round in it’s tank”

“Like people here, captured in never-ending loops of their best memories…” he continues my thought, musingly tilting his head. “Yes, exactly.”

“And they are happy. Mom looked happy, I think…”

“You’re not sure?” 

“Would you be happy on your own forever? Even in your best memory?”

“They don’t feel like they are on their own, they exist within a moment of eternal peace.” He shakes his head. “But I got your point. They don’t have a freedom of choice, they don’t know it’s a loop. Goldfish souls…”

I stop. He looks at me, and I see the question rises in his eyes, along with the hope for the answer.

“Can we…”

“..give them the choice?”

We look at each other, knocked out with the idea itself.

“Jack… this… this is wonderful!”

“You think? This will make them happy? I mean, happy for real?”

“You know what…” his face is focused, he tries to remember something. “Actually, we can ask. Dean once told me about one friend of theirs. I don’t know him in person, he died before I met Winchesters. But he’s here, he broke the loop, and figured the way to travel between individual heavens.”

“Oh, I know! Ash!”

“Right... “He seems a little confused. “I have to get used to it. You know everything now. Of course, you know everything...”

***

Sure, we didn't break in right inside, we knocked on the door politely. Jo (I know, it’s her, she’s very nice!) opens the door.

“Cas??” She’s amazed, but her smile is so genuine, I like it.

“Hi, Jo” Castiel is surprised too, but he takes her attack hug very well.

“Mom!” She yells. “Mom, look who’s here!!!”

“Joanna Beth, quit yelling, for God’s sake!”

We enter the bar and see Jo’s mother. I never thought someone’s heaven can be an old bar, all smelled with beer and peanuts, but here we are. And I like the smell, actually. It fits very well.

“Castiel? Well, I’ll be damned!” She puts down the glass and walks out from behind the bar counter. “Come here, you feather ass!”

She squeezes him tight, but he’s okay with it, he looks very happy.

“Who’s the kid?” She nods in my direction.

“Hi, I’m Jack!” I smile and raise my bunch of fives in greeting.

“Yes, this is.. this is Jack. He is..”

“I’m new God”

“You’re… who?”

“…he’s WHAT?” 

“It’s a long story.” Castiel purses his lips, as he alternately looks at Joe, then at Ellen. Their eyes are wide, but it makes them no less brave. 

“Then sit and talk, we have all the time in the world here. And are we yearned for the news, you know.” Ellen beckons us to the counter with a nod.

“Sure” Castiel agrees. “But where’s Ash? We thought we’re gonna see him here, isn’t it his heaven?”

“It is” Jo sits on the stool. “Our looked exactly the same. And when he found us, we kinda decided to move. He got all his stuff here, and it’s easier to travel from this starting point.”

“So you travel between heavens too?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, but not so much as he does. It’s better to have such opportunity, then to be locked, anyway. I mean, we don’t complain, but…”

“We were shocked when we saw him first. But then he explained. A lot of things, actually, about how everything works here.” Ellen continues, putting four glasses of beer in front of us. She looks at me suspiciously. “How old are you, exactly?”

“Oh, I’m three” 

Her eyebrows are high again, but Castiel just shakes his head. 

“He can drink, Ellen. That’s okay”

“Oh yeah? And who are you, his dad?”

“He is!” I confirm. “Well, actually, my father is Lucifer, but Castiel raised me. Castiel, Dean and Sam”

Jo chokes on her beer and Castiel pats her back gently.

“I guess I have to explain a lot of things, too” he apologises.

“Please, give us a favour… And I think we’re gonna need something stronger here…” Ellen takes a bottle of tequila from the shelf. “Don’t worry, no hangover here”

Door slams loudly.

“Whooo! Look who’s back, ladies! I gotta say, Cliff Burton is a really nice dude in person. He…” A man in colorful mask and a gold cape runs inside the bar. 

“Oh..” He freezes, looking at us. “A company?”

“Ash, this is Castiel and Jack. Guys…” Ellen smiles to us. “This is Ash”

***

I wander around the bar, eating salted peanuts. Really tasty, I like it. So many cool pictures on the walls, the pool table, music box. I think this place is awesome! Castiel continues his story, he’s somewhere near to the mark of Cain. Guys sit around and listen with genuine interest, I’ve lost count how many glasses they’ve had already. They cried a lot, they laughed, too. Of course. This is the most amazing story ever!

“So, we’re here with Jack to make Heaven a better place” Castiel finishes.  “And we wanted to ask you about the travels between individual spots. Are you the only one who’s capable of that?” He looks at Ash.

“Well, I guess I am” He sounds so proud of himself, trying to hold back the burp. “I’ve never seen anyone else doing it, only me and my friends” 

“And you can travel anywhere?”

“Mostly” he scratches behind his ear. “Some places cannot be located with my scanner. It’s not powerful enough, I assume”

“We can’t find dad” Jo interrupts. She looks sad. “We don’t know why. We even thought, that maybe… maybe he’s not here”

“Bill Harvelle is in Heaven, as far as I know” Castiel sounds concerned, looking at me.

“He is” I nod in confirmation.

“Well,” Ellen smiles bitterly. “Good to know”

We are silent. Suddenly Heaven is not a happy place at all.

“You know what’s weird?” She says. “We didn’t even think of him. I mean… We remembered him, sure. But we… Dammit, it’s so hard to explain! We were like in a bubble, before Ash came. A happy bubble, no regrets, no worries…”

“No thoughts. Just bliss. Perfect loop” Castiel follows.

“Totally” Jo agrees. “You know, all your life you believe, you’re gonna meet your loved ones here, someone you miss the most. And then it turns out you’re just being canned in a piece of your happy memory. And no one complains, because no one… acknowledges.”

“The more I listen, the more I am convinced that this place was created without the slightest consideration of the real needs of the human soul” Castiel sounds bitter, utterly disappointed.

“Because no one cared to listen” I’m sad too. 

I know what my happiest memories are, they all are full with the people I love. Jo is right. Leaving people blindfolded is not an option, they deserve so much better.

“Well,” Castiel stands up from the stool.” Now we know, what our priorities are.”

“Looks like a lotta work, you guys need some assistance?” Ash drums his finders on his glass. 

“Thanks Ash. We’re not sure yet, but if we will, we know where to find you.”

“You’re cool, and I like your hair very much!” I add. 

Compliment makes Ash fidget in his chair, but he is pleased.

“Thanks! You both look cool too” he raises his eyebrows approvingly.

“Yeah, by the way” Jo bumps Castiel’s shoulder with her fist. “So unusual without your trench coat, much better now. Love the T-shirt!”

“Uh, yeah… thanks,” Castiel awkwardly fiddles with the zipper on his hoodie, I think his cheeks blush?

“Wait…is this… Dean’s?” Jo squints her eyes examining familiar print.

“Yeah, I umm… haven’t got a chance to buy a new clothes yet.” No doubt. He’s blushing. “So Dean just… um.. borrowed me some of his old.” He deliberately takes a gulp from his glass to cover his sudden shyness. I don’t understand why to be shy about this, but it’s none of my business. Harvelles quit their interrogation too.

“Now, where to next?” Castiel ask, as we walk out of the bar. He tries to fix his hair after particularly heartful goodbye hugs they gave him. 

“Luchbreak?”

***

We sit on a roof of Chrysler building. It’s a room 566297335, this guy’s best memory is finally getting a promotion and moving to the bigger office with a spectacular view. All people are so different…

“So,” my mouth is a little too full with burger, but I’m too excited to chew slower. “Travels between the personal rooms?”

Castiel sips his coffee thoughtfully, his gaze is fixed on the horizon. 

“Yes,” he nods carefully. “This concept is inspiring.” 

He’s quiet for the moment. Fake New York is silent around us, no buzzing cars, no human voices, no wind. Still, it’s a beautiful decoration, never-ending spring sunset, coloring the streets with warm and soft orange palette.

“Among the many things I’ve seen for the past years being on Earth, purity of human soul enraptures me the most. It’s vulnerability and integrity. People are so fragile, so defenceless. Life is ruled by their emotions and feelings, and they live it in the eternal search for a soul that will make their own feel accepted as it is. And this... This is the most beautiful thing.” He looks at me, endless warmth and placidity in his eyes.

“You think, we really understand it? Human soul? You and I?”

He smiles.

“I don’t think it’s something that can be understood completely. I doubt that a person is able to understand their soul, not to mention the soul of another human being. But we can listen attentively.” He looks at me. “The least we can do, is be kind and do not confine anyone's freedom. We had a good teachers.”

“Yes… No more cells” I nod affirmatively.

“No more cells” Castiel agrees.

***

We’re in the white room, a map of old Heaven lays on the table and we keep studying it. Castiel rubs his eyes constantly.

“You know what, it’s too old school on paper, let me make a 3d hologram…” I click my fingers and it’s done. ”Better?”   

Castiel blinks few times and comes closer to observe.

“Yes, way better! Thank you, Jack” he puts his hand on my shoulder, smiling at the new workspace.

“It’s still so… flat” He adds. 

Indeed, Heaven looks like endless paper sheet, ripped out of squared notebook. 

“Yeah…” I’m not impressed too. “I’ve always thought Heaven is much cooler place.”

“We should work on a structure” Castiel mumbles. “Now it’s just enormous amount of cells, each decorated in it’s own style. And if we want them to be connectable…”

“Maybe we should remove the walls entirely? Like, make one big space?”

Castiel blinks.

“We- can we do it?”

“Sure! We can make it look like anything we want. Like a Disneyland. Or a Death Star!

“I don’t think Death Star is acceptable reference here” Castiel tries to hold back his smile.

“Coruscant?” I may be overly enthusiastic over this idea, but why not?

“No.” He’s very gentle, but I got his point.

“Endor?” This is my last try, I promise.

“I was thinking maybe… Earth?” 

“Oh!”

“Basically, we already have different parts here, from all the ages and territories. So, maybe we…”

“Yes! Combine them together!” This is so simple, I love it!

Cas is hesitant again, there’s a doubt on his face, forehead frowned.

“But won’t this cause a turmoil? The Earth has looked very different throughout it’s history. And each soul remembers it in it’s own way.”

“So? Time and space aren’t a thing here. We can create a collective image, a collective space. We won’t even have to make a large effort, people’s memories are our best designer. Our Heaven can consist of any number of layers. It already is! Remember Ash? He travels through Heavens from different countries and different eras. Nothing is impossible here”

“This.. this sounds so simple?” I can see, he slowly accepts the idea.

“Well, the concept is simple. But we definitely got a work to do.”

He smiles. Wide and inspired. 

“It’s wonderful, Jack!”

“Yes. But the main question is, how many angels do we need to make it work?”

Castiel’s smile fade. 

“Yes… Angels,” he exhales heavily.

“Cas..?” 

He walks around the table and sits in the chair. He rubs his forehead, looking down on the floor, I cannot see his eyes.

“Castiel?” I come closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just… I understand, you can create angels now. From a scratch, like Chuck… God… used to. This is what you’re going to do?”

“Yes.” I nod. “In fact, they are going to be my first children”

I’ve thought about it. Not that I’m terrified with the responsibility, not that I have doubts. This is just… something absolutely new. Not even like bringing the entire population of Earth back. The creation. Pure. 

“And I’m going to give the living ones their wings back” I smile. I hope this will bring back my father’s good mood.

He smiles, but I know he still blames himself for the angel’s fall. 

“This is great, Jack, this is wonderful!”

“But, you’re sad?”

He’s quiet again. I guess I know what he’s thinking about now. But I wait… he’s gonna tell me himself.

“I just think… I keep thinking, if they would have been happy? To see Heaven, all new, peaceful and powerful. All my brothers and sisters, who…” He stutters, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. The names, so many names.

“Samadriel.” He continues. “Hanna, Kelvin, Ezekiel, Muriel, Inias, Nithael, Rebecca, Joshua, Sofia, Ambriel, Zuriel… even Anna. And all those fools, who followed Metatron… or Bartholomew. Poor ones, who got their brains washed by Raphael.” His voice is very quiet. “And… Balthazar”

“I think it would” I can feel his pain, it curls around him, pulls him into the abyss of regret. “I- I hope so… All I know is that they are sleeping now, they are at peace, Castiel. No more screams in the Empty”

“Yes. Yes, I know. I remember” He rubs his face, like he wants to clean the sadness off it.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” He tries to smile. “I shouldn’t be so…”

I put my hand on his shoulder, calmingly, softly.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

***

“Ready?” Castiel looks at me fondly, and I crack my fingers with much enthusiasm.

“Yes! Absolutely”

“Just make sure they are not… dicks” he gives me the look and I nod approvingly.

“Will do!”

My hands are warm, I can feel the power flows inside me. Concentrates in my fingers, making them tremble. It starts with soft glowing, eventually increasing into a stream of light, that gathers into a luminous ball between my palms. It turns and grows, and it shines so bright. The light within the walls and ceiling of the white room is flickering too, encouranging me to continue.

“Hello!” I smile and raise my hand in greeting. “Welcome to Heaven. You are my first angel”

Angel looks at me, confused and bewildered.

“I like him.” I smile at Castiel. “I’m gonna name him Luke!”

He just laughs, he doesn’t argue.

We got so much work to do today.

***

“HWW!” His face is pure smugness. He turns the screen of his homemade laptop for us to take a look, but honestly, we don’t seem to follow.

“Hw-w?” Cas tilts his head. “Is that a reference? I- I’m afraid, I don’t get it, Ash”

“Yes! HWW!” Ash repeats, but his smile slowly fades, as he understands that we really have no idea what he’s talking about. “Guys, come on! Really?”

He said this project is something extremely important and cool, and it will be the fundamental part of New Heaven. But we don’t get it.

“World Wide Web! But it’s Heaven, so its’ gonna be the Heaven Wide Web!” He raises his hands above his head and shakes them victoriously. “Ta-daa!”

“The… Internet?!” 

“Yes!” He slams his hands on the desk and starts typing something on keyboard. “Okay, I was thinking... Every soul is unique, right? It has it’s own structure, vibe.. whatever. And it’s own individual number here, right?”

We nod.

“What if we use it like the IP-address? And each soul will get it’s personal access point to the general communication centre? Just imagine, you can connect with any person you want.”

“Like texting!”

“With emoticons?” Cas smiles. 

“Exactly. Heavenly social media.”

“With profile page and cat memes?” I like this idea more and more.

“Anything we want!” 

“But wait… how do we explain it to souls from the past eras?”

“Easy.” Ash winks at Cas. “People have invented millions of ways to communicate with each other since the beginning of time. We can stick with anything usual for each period. Like, Shakespeare won’t need to use a phone, pigeons will fly to him through the window, bringing the message. “Hey, William, I’m your biggest fan from 1978. Can I come for a cuppa tea to discuss The Merchant of Venice?” And some hairy dude, who lives in a cave, will see new petroglyphs appear on the walls. You get me?”

“Ash…” 

“Yeah, I kinda came up with this long ago… You break into someone’s Heaven, and sometimes they’re not very happy to see you, they don’t know, what the hell is going on. I remember Jimi chased me around the room trying to hit me with his guitar, thought I was a particularly vivid hallucination…” he adds dreamily. “So yeah, it’s way better to be able to send a message first, you know? To be connected, in general. And if you guys gonna break all the loops…”

“Ash. You’re genius! You really can do this?”

He shakes his head, adjusting his luxurious hairstyle.

"Already wrote an algorithm”

***

“They are truly so full of light” He’s just finished his conversation with the last one of the newly created angels, and he looks contented, considering the peaceful smile on his face. “Jack, they are wonderful”

“Of course. I intended them to be like you.”

“Like…” his eyes widen in astonishment. “Like me?”

“Yes.” I say simply. “You’re the best example I know.”

I feel his emotions. They overfill him, shine with the sparkle in his eyes, brighten every wrinkle on his face, warm the air through his skin. 

The light. The love. 

“Guardians, shepherds.” I continue. “Born to protect the peace and prosperity. Not the blunt instruments of war.” 

“Jack…”

“All with a little too much heart. But no one will ever call it a crack in their chassis”

***

It doesn't look like a decoration anymore. Now I know what makes Heaven a Heaven. 

People’s emotions. Feelings of joy, security, serenity. Warmth of loving hearts. And freedom, of course.

We are standing on the top of the mountain, mesmerising view of all the work done lies in front of our eyes. Castiel takes the last piece of broken wall, lying in front of his feet, it fades and shrinks in his palm, until vanishes completely.

“That’s it” He smiles. “You did it, Jack”

“No,” I shake my head. “WE did it. I couldn’t have done this without your help and support. Without your faith in me. Thank you”

I mean it. Everything I did, everything I’ve become. Impossible without him.

“Thank you, father”

We hold each other, like we used to. I’m sure, this is not our last hug, but it feels like the most important one. I put all my love and gratitude, all my devotion into this embrace. I want him to feel, to know, how much he means to me, that nothing has changed in my feelings for him. He is my father. And forever will be.

Angels, new and old, stand behind us, their wings shine in the light, casting glare on grass and trees. Сalmness and confidence on their faces, they are beautiful in their might and purity. I did a good job, I must admit.

“And now” I say, pulling back to look into Castiel’s eyes “We deserved a little celebration, don’t you think?” 

“Agree” he smiles.

I click my fingers.

It’s the familiar bar. We appear, and the air explodes with loud cheering noises. 

“What…” Castiel starts, but gasps with amazement.

It’s a good company, it’s the part of our found family. I don’t know all of them in person, but I’m familiar with their stories, all so important and irreplaceable. 

Red haired woman is the first one to attack Castiel with a hug.

“Charlie!”

“Hey, big guy!” She laughs, bumping his shoulder. “Looking good, bitch!”

“Yeah… I-“

He has no chance to finish, Kevin attacks him next.

“Kevin…”

“Okay, okay! Back in the line, kid. Have some respect for the elders!” Bobby pushes him aside laughingly, and he and Mary step closer for a hug. 

Castiel is bewildered, I think he might cry, but he holds himself together good so far.

Pamela, Mick and Jimmy finish the circle of greetings. Jimmy looks a bit awkward, like he’s not sure, if he has the right to be here. This is weird. Sure he has!

“Cas looks a little strange without his trench coat, don’t you think?” I hear from behind. I smile to the familiar voice. 

“Hi, mom…”

Her hands are delicate and warm on my cheeks, she’s beaming with love.

“Hey, baby”

***

Everyone’s busy with yelling their drink orders to Jo and Ellen, Ash turns on the music box, as if bar isn’t full with cheerful chatter and laugh already. Cas and Kelly are the first ones to get their drinks, and now they stand aside, chatting cordially with each other. My mom and my dad. I don’t interrupt, they surely have a lot to talk about. And I… 

I need to talk with a mother, too. But not with mine. There she stands, my dearest friend and my biggest regret, my horrible mistake and undeniable fault. And she smiles to me.

“Hello, Jack”

I can’t speak, her voice made me numb. I just look, I keep looking into her blue eyes, trying to find an accusation in them, sorrow, at least, but I don’t see anything alike. She is smiling her softest smile.

“What, you’re not even gonna give me a hug?”

“Mary, I…” 

“Oh, come here!” She pulls me closer and wraps her arms around me. Suddenly, words burst out from the inside, an endless stream of remorse and guilt.

“Mary, I’m so sorry! I am so sorry, I didn’t want it to happen… It was so terrible, and I… I didn’t mean to, but it was my fault. I…”

“Jack…” she tries to interrupt me.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry! Can you ever forgive me?” 

“Jack!” She holds me so tight. “Jack, it’s okay…”

“You deserved so much better, I’m so sorry…”

“I know.” She pulls back, looking into my eyes. “I know it was an accident. Please, stop blaming yourself…”

“But it was my fault!”

“Jack!” She cups my face with her palms, her voice is calm and soft. “I don’t blame you. So please, stop blaming yourself. It wasn’t even you, real you.”

The tight knot in my chest looses a little. I know her sons have forgiven me, but to hear it from her… it changes everything. I feel like I’m finally free.

“We all have our path, mine has led me here. And I regret nothing, Jack. I’m at peace, I am happy here.”

“But your sons…”

“I can wait” She smiles. “Now I know, we’re all gonna end up here. And now Heaven is just… perfect! Thank you for this.” 

Castiel is standing next to her, I didn't even notice how he came up closer to us. Mary puts her hands on our shoulders, squeezing them firmly.

“Thank you both! And if you want to do something nice for me,” she raises her eyebrows, looking me straight in the eyes “…make sure Sam and Dean die of old age lying in their warm beds, okay?!”

Maybe my eyes are sparkling with tears, but I nod, smiling broad and confident.

“Of course!”

“Not so difficult, considering that there’s an angel looking over them” she winks at Castiel, making him smile softly.

“Oh, about that…” I interrupt.

“What?”

“I think… someone is tired of spending his time, being a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent”

“Jack…” Castiel is looking at me with a slight confusion on his face. “What are you…”

“You still haven’t asked for your wings back.” I say quietly.

He hesitates, I can see the uncertainty and worrying in his eyes.

“I.. I just thought…”

“Because you don’t feel like you need them anymore.”

He looks down.

“Castiel?” Mary’s voice is gentle and mild, she leans to him, trying to catch his eyes. I guess… she understands. “Remember… remember that one night? I just got back from the dead, and I was so lost. We bumped into each other, in the bunker?”

He rises his head, looking at her attentively.

“Yes”

“I asked you, about the Earth, when did it start to feel like...like you fit, like you...belonged there? Remember? And you said…”

“I'm still not sure I do.” Yes..”

She smiles. 

“And now, after everything…? I know what you did, Castiel. For us, for our family, for humanity in general… and for him. Do you know now?… Do you belong?”

He looks at her with gratitude. His face lights up, as if the last piece of the puzzle has been found and snapped into place, making him complete. 

“Yes. I do”

“Well,” she laughs warmly. “Growing old must be fun. I don’t know, I never did!” She kisses his cheek. “Tell them, tell my boys, I’m happy here, tell them, I don’t regret a thing, okay?” They hug, and he nods into her shoulder. “And tell him…” she whispers cheerfully into his ear. “…tell him, he’s lucky as hell!”

Castiel can’t hold back the smile, and his cheeks flush with joy.

“Okay. Promise!”

Mary squeezes him in her arms once more and pats his shoulder, before walk off with a widest smile on her face.

“Jack. I…” he starts.

“I know.” He doesn’t needs to explain anything.

“Your grace is still in the process of being restored, but if you want, it can just ... vanish over time” I shrug and I smile. “Growing old with someone is what people do, right? Humans.”

He rubs his eyebrow with a soft and quiet laugh.

“Yes, they do…”

“And you both gonna eventually end up here, you and him.”

“Not the worst option, I guess” He smiles.

He looks at all the people in this small wooden bar, their faces are full of joy, their laugh is light-hearted. Company broke into unexpected duos, like Kevin and Ash, discussing some technical stuff over Ash’s scanner, or Pamela and Mick sharing their theories on the matter of astral projections. This will be the the most popular spot in Heaven, probably. But now…

“Tell me when you’re ready to go back.”

“Yes. Only need to collect all the messages from everyone, to pass them to Sam and Dean personally. Probably, not only to Sam and Dean…” he waves at Jimmy. 

“Of course! We have all the time in the world here”

“Yes,” he nods. “We’re not in a rush”

We’re not in a rush, father. Take your time, you deserve to spend it with people, who care about you. 

Both on Earth and in Heaven.

You are loved.

***

tag list:

@donestiel  @sinnabonka - @you-cant-spell-subtext-without - @casthyelle - @saltyghostsworld - @bebecas - @sammy-501 - @dtadeancas - @highvoltagejackles - @subtledean - @kaz2y5baby - @angelic-bee-enthusiast -  @bimiserables @gabrielle-main @acklesology  @highkey-dysphoric @lila-tom @teddybluesclues  @moonlightdeancas @transfoundfamily @bichaoticdean @transdean

#dadstielweek #spncreatorsdaily #castiel #jack kline #spn fanfic #destiel fic #spn fic #destiel fanfiction #fieryfrankie #seraphcastiel #becauseofthebowties #casjpg #userdainty #holmesemrys #plantdadcas #smiledean #scottstiles #usercaptainflint #bluefirecas #acklesy #kashmircastiel #fic tag #anz writes stuff and things

[e-m-christina]

Heathens Pt3 (Ivar X Warrior! Reader)

   For the first time, silence hung in the air as the eyes of the Norsemen scoured you for an answer. The silence made your blood as cold as the autumnal air that crept through your clothes. Your blood did not run cold because of fear or intimidation, but because you were considering Ivars offer. You were really thinking of agreeing to something those Heathens, no, those devils were asking you to do. Bereft of any wind answer, Ivar rolled his eyes and whipped out a knife, pointing it at your stomach. 

   “Do not make me have to kill you Y/N.” Ivar hissed in a low voice as his blue eyes bored into yours like a bird of prey, but you were not swayed by his threat...Or warning. You watched as his eyes flicked from you, to the men that were watching before teeth bit down on his bottom lip. Was it anger or concern? You could not tell. 

   “Why don’t you give me the knife?” You said at last. Ivar paused, and looked down at you. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took a seat before offering you the knife. Your hands slick with mud and blood took the blade. The dagger lay cold in your  hands. It was short at five inches but so sharp even the gentlest of touches to flesh would result in a free bleeding cut. Whispers sounded through the crowd of Norsemen as you angled the blade towards your very own stomach. You were very aware of Ivars eyes trail your every movement like a hawk, his hands gripping the sides of his chair as he leaned forward. 

   “Die! Die now!” Savagely screamed a Norseman as you silently approached him. The only part of your body language that conveyed your emotions was your seething eyes burning like a raging fire as you stopped in front of the man with an almost blank face. You hissed as he spat in your face, before carrying on his barbaric screams. Out of all the people there, he was the only one that was making a noise, everyone else was deadly silent; listening, watching.

   “Depart from this earth, ye cursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. And shall cast ye into a furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth." You growled before flipping the blade around and driving it forward. The knife met flesh, soft and pudgy, and made a satisfying squish as the tip of the blade sank deep enough into the man to make him scream. You twisted the blade in your hands, all the while sinking it deeper and deeper into the man's chest. Guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar gargled from his throat as he sank to his knees, continuing to scream, convulsing and trembling like a rabid animal as thick blood flowed freely from the gaping hole. You threw the red knife to the ground with a clammer before turning back around to Ivar. Your heart rammed against your rib cage; you did not like killing, but it was in times necessary. Ivar had lurched to his feet, keeping a hand on the table as he stared at the lifeless corpse in disbelief. Was he angry? You watched his unreadable face melt into one of absolute amazement as a grin started to form.

   “I think she will fight with us!” He roared, grabbing your arm and thrusting it into the air. 

      Your eyes glimmered in the candle lit room as you watched the full moon that hung brilliantly in the dark night sky from the window. You were now free from all bonds, hands and feet free from all shackles or restraint. 

   “And then appeared a great wonder in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon beneath her feet. And upon her head, a crown of twelve stars.” You said, gazing at the silver light that omitted from the moon. 

    “Who was the woman?” You turned around to face Ivar. He was perched on a stool in front of you, with a cup of mead in one hand and a slice of bread in the other. 

   “The virgin. Mary, mother of our God, Jesus Christ.” You said, watching as Ivars eyebrows knitted together.

   “If she was a virgin, how could she be a mother?” He asked, half in disbelief and half in mockery. 

   “It was a miracle.” You said, shooting him a glare before turning back to look out of the window.

   “I would say so.” He snickered before taking a gulp of mead. You frowned and fully turned around. You clasped your hands in front of you and raised an eyebrow.

   “Are there not many miraculous things in your faith? Like the serpent that holds in the sea with its body.” You said.

   “That is not a miracle, that is true.” Ivar took a hold of his crutch, before pulling himself up from his seat. 

   “Ah.” You said, before turning back to the window, resting your arms on the ledge as you peered back out into the night with a small smile grazing your lips. Does he honestly think a serpent actually incircles the sea? You could hear Ivar drag his crutch along the ground towards you, but you did not budge an inch.

    “The moon is a woman. That is true. But not a woman you can trust. A devious woman. A woman that drives men insane.” You felt a cold blade kiss your cheek as he stopped behind you, pressing a knife against your skin. 

   “She promises them her love. Her favours. But then she changes her mind, cheats on them. Goes with someone else.” Ivar carried on. You felt him dragging the blade down your cheek gently. 

   “Do you understand what I am thinking, Y/N?” He asked, leaning forward. 

   “You are thinking that I cannot be trusted. That my promises are worthless. That  I will be as fickle as the moon.” You said, choosing your words carefully, aware of his hot breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

   “In my experience it happens.” Ivar said, pressing the blade harder into your cheek.

    “But if you kill me now you deny yourself the pleasure of proving yourself...right.” You bit your lip as the blade lifted from your skin, making a metallic noise as he placed the knife back into his sheath, though you still did not dare to turn around.

       “Y/N, I do not want to be right. I want to believe in you. I want to believe that in this world, there is someone who never lies, who never cheats, or compromises.”  You slowly turned you around, looking Ivar in the eyes. You held your breath as he gently ran a thumb over your bruised cheek. “Who is always noble.” He continued as you fought against a tremble in your voice.. 

     “I am the one, Ivar.” You said quietly. Within seconds, Ivar regained his usual poise before quickly dropping his hand. 

   “We will see.” He  whispered before turning away. And for the first time a genuine smile graced your lips. Maybe these Heathens were not so bad afterall. 

--

Thanks for reading! Part 4 coming soon! Requests are still open! I am working on a Hvitserk x Reader request and an Ivar x reader request, both of which will be posted in the next few days as well!

 @youbloodymadgenius

@angelofthorr

@pieces-by-me

@krissyclayton

@xceafh​

@peachydiminie

@1950schick

#vikings #alex hogh andersen #ivar the boneless x reader #hvitserk #ragnar #ivar the boneless #ragnarssons #love #romance #angst #bishop heahmund

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Lauren’s Attunement/// The Catharsis of the Dark Diary (Long ass post)

Ah ... I really don't know how much I could say about this Attunement that I decided to separate into two parts and notice that I am going to deviate a bit from my original intention to make some clear points because there is a lot to get out of what Lauren has said. With that in mind I hope it is not too confusing to read.

First part: Cancellation Culture

I think our moonchild has been perfectly clear on this point. "We are living in a very sick world" "In a world in great need of healing and that will not do so through the culture of cancellation." Cancellation culture sucks, folks. A twisted idea of ​​exposing things from the past of people who have not been good and that people have become accustomed to criticizing as if all those who criticize were a mirror of virtue and perfection when nobody is perfect and Lauren also mentions that in your Attunement. Lauren also mentions that we cannot hold people accountable for their mistakes because it is the most important part of the process. And it is a truth like a cathedral. People who make mistakes need to take responsibility for their actions so that they don't make them again. It is necessary to learn from it and improve as people and heal. In the part where Lauren mentions that she would never publicly embarrass the people she loves, she reminded me of Camila. I did not want to mention Camila in this because we know that Lauren has also been humiliated but if we talk about the cancellation culture that part goes to Camila. Camila has been a victim of the culture of cancellation long before leaving the band and they have made Twitter threads, blaming her with a racist past for which she has apologized many times but still drag her to hell, no matter what. Camila has haters who love to fuck her and Lauren knows it too. She has known it forever and a clear example is (I'm not going to put a screenshot because it would distract me) the tweet where someone calls Camila ugly and Lauren responds to that hater saying: "Hello, can you show me a picture of you? " It is these details that make us understand that everything she sees on the internet in relation to her and her loved ones affects her a lot and what she says when she talks about the online world where we are all the time, is bullshit. She says that it's not that you can't do what makes you beautiful, that she's fine with it, but also the people who are watching don't know that shit is fake and that people aren't happy with who they are. "That when they look in the mirror they don't love themselves." And I think she hit the spot there too, folks. She has perfectly outlined a hater's profile. The lack of love of those people who have found an escape route to their frustrations, to what is wrong with their lives, that makes them what they are. Because as she says, we live in a screwed up world, it's true but the point is, how the hell have we got to this point? How do we get to this point where the human being has lost humanity and has become shadows of hatred and rejection that lives by making Twitter threads and canceling people to feel better about themselves? And then Lauren talks about Trump. She mentions Trump as a symptom of lack of love. And again she is not wrong. Donald Trump's life was never very happy. With an authoritarian father who always preferred his eldest son to follow the legacy of his family and perpetuate the name of it, when this son did not want that pressure, the father banished the eldest son and all the shit fell on Trump. The only other male in the family. Trump is that man's mirror. From that egomaniac, controlling, arrogant, undoubtedly macho and racist father because he has really shown it. Trump lives on appearances. To demonstrate something that is not and to hide its shortcomings in a marked narcissism.

Another thing that strikes me about what she has said and another truth is also that we no longer love each other because we do not know where we are standing. And that is also true, we do not know who we are because others dictate who we are. They dictate what to say, what to eat, what music to listen to, what television series to watch until we become cattle. We have lost our ability as individual beings to fit the mold of livestock just to give us the feeling of feeling connected, as if we were part of something. Part of a whole that is still controlled. From this part Lauren begins to talk about what she has written in her diary so I will continue with the second part, but to close this one, I can only say that many of the things she mentions are a reflection of what we are doing living, of what we are suffering and our own fragility as a human species.

Second part: Black Diary and Amy's Shadow

I think we have a concept of great artists as broken human beings, wrapped in dramas and additions that actually "help" perfectly in their art. Where, the more chaos there is in their lives, the more geniuses they become. And I think Amy can be an example of that. And talking about her, because I'm going to start by talking about her and then I'm going to express my thoughts about Lauren. I remember responding to an ask yesterday saying that I was terrified when Lauren said she felt identified with her because their lives were a kind of parallel. And then I thought better of it and realized that yes, both lives have that parallel but with a difference, Lauren has what Amy never had. An emotional support network. Good friends. Amy's life was marked by rejection, mockery, the circus that was her life where her art was in the background and her voice was shattered to make way for the addicted, alcoholic Amy, where her greatest achievement was to climb to a drugged and drunk stage, with glasses of wine that she drank live and her show was to demonstrate her weakness so that others made fun of her. Her parents perpetuated that shit because it gave them money, and as long as she made money, at the cost of her own physical and mental health, nothing else mattered. Being an artist is not only knowing how to sing, dance, write, paint and be good at all kinds of artistic expression, but it is much more than that. Being an artist is breaking yourself into pieces and giving them to your fans to do with those pieces what they want. It is giving more than what nobody will give you in return. And Amy got broken. They broke her into thousands of pieces and they all jumped like vultures wanting a piece of her until she ceased to exist because they never gave her a chance to rebuild herself. They never gave her a chance to learn to love herself to be able to heal because they didn't want a healthy Amy because that didn't sell. They were only served by her pain because she filled their bank accounts, those of her friends, those of her managers, those of the entertainment tabloids. Those of her boyfriends. The ones from her own fucking parents. And so far we can draw parallels with Lauren. It is possible that our moonchild has had or is having her problems with her mother, or with her record label, or with whatever she is having problems and is dealing with right now, but at least she does not have a family that just supports her and is there for the money she may or may not earn. And yes, she mentioned many fears at first before reading the newspaper, but at least she has had a chance to regroup when she needs to. Lauren has the ability to heal herself, her own will thanks to her own strength. Because even if you are afraid of breaking or feeling pain, you have to feel it. You have to hit rock bottom to learn how to get out of there. You have to go to the extreme of falling enough to know that your own will, your own inner strength is so great that it helps you to rise not only once, but a thousand times if necessary. And she has that ability. I believe and have always said it, you already know it. That the real problem, or part of it, is not Lauren's fragility because that is bullshit. Lauren is a strong girl but at the same time she has this angel, this kind of kindness that really does not go well in an environment as rotten and toxic as the industry. Lauren Jauregui does not fit molds. She cannot follow rules if she considers that they are not fair and that people in the industry do not like because they lose their ability to manipulate it. There is a reason that her song Toy has disappeared, folks. Lauren is still an artist and of course she too falls into the concept of what it means to be an artist, breaking herself into pieces and giving those pieces to us who are her fans. And since we have a piece of it, perhaps we create ourselves with the right to demand more from her because we are not satisfied with what she gives us and we criticize her for it. The worst fans are capable of fucking her and haters are able to write Twitter threads exposing what they hate about her.

That would scare anyone, folks. Even if you are not an artist. There is a Lauren Gif that I posted on the blog as part of a set of images related to Camren. In that gif Lauren looks at the audience with such a raw expression on her face saying something like: "You who are there screaming like crazy, with your perfect lives while I am being pressured to the point of breaking and you just want more" (I put the only screenshot because I don't have the GiF image at hand)

This GiF is something that always caught my attention and since I have known Lauren she knew that there was something else with her. I met her as the bad girl, the bitch one. That image that appeared to conform to Tyren. And then her smile disappeared. I remember when I joined the fandom where one of my first posts about PR circuses was to ask myself: Why do girls look so fucked up? Why is Lauren so sad or why has her smile disappeared? And then there were those weird videos where she seemed like "haunted", like outside of herself and that agreed with the time that she had to stunt for Tyren and always seemed to be the same dynamic with her. And then it was not only me who realized that Lauren was not well, but also other mutuals and we kept repeating the same thing to the bastards on her team: "Lauren is not well, please take care of her " That was something that we repeated a thousand times with Lauren and then also with Camila because it always caught my attention that the two of them were equally fucked at the same time. Before I knew that Lauren had her problems with her family, I also noticed that separation. I think I received a bit of shit after expressing my thoughts but in the end, I was never wrong because Lauren herself has expressed it and I think if I had been in the fandom long before 2018 I would have noticed it too. This has been a very emotional Attunement on Lauren's part and I told her in a tweet, as her fan has been a privilege to have witnessed that. It is a privilege to be a fan of a girl with a huge heart who has flaws that make her more human than other people and who has grown enough to know that she can continue to do so. With this post I have tried to be respectful and say that, although I do not know her, we connect in a special way because we have almost the same way of thinking in many aspects (although I do not agree in many others) and I think that still does most important to me. About the newspaper. It reminded me of the lost diary topic, but apparently she has more than one. Who knows. I remember my period of having diaries in my teens and I appreciate that because it made me realize that writing would be an important part of my life. If there is one way I am good at expressing myself it is writing, and no, not in English so I apologize for the mistakes. There is one last detail of Lauren's Attunement that goes a bit more on the personal side. When she says: "To be a real one, is to be an emotional one". I have always had a conflict with being emotional. Starting with my zodiac sign (yes, I know it's a bit silly to believe in that but it amuses me). As a Pisces, I am an emotional being. As a physically disabled person I have my limitations and although these limitations do not define me, I have always had a fierce fight with my vulnerable side. I hate depending on others, physically and emotionally. I also hate getting sick and others having to take care of me when I'm unable to do it on my own, that's why I don't get along with my emotional side. Excessively emotional and I prefer to be more cerebral in many aspects (I think you have noticed that my favorite word this year has been brainless people, right) and dependency is something that I can't stand on myself. That they depend on me does not matter, I am always for those who need me but being dependent is something I tend to avoid like pests. Relying on others to do things for you, depending on the affection of other people ... my family (except my mother) was never very affectionate to say, it was not impulsively hugging you or public displays of affection and I learned to be the same . But I also learned to give what others did not give me. And it cost me. That of leaving the mold of a family that is there and that sometimes worries but that others can leave you and not know what you are doing on any given day. A family that demands expectations. At least some of my uncles. I think that in that part I feel identified with Lauren and it is curious because I am adopted but she is not. And still I feel identified with Lauren and at the same time with Camila and the relationship that she has with her mother, which is almost an exact copy of the relationship that I had with my mother throughout my childhood and adolescence. I guess that's why I follow them both, apart from because I love the music of both. The last detail and I already stop talking about me because this post is about Lauren. What she talks about the industry, the molds, how female artists within the industry are treated. That was also an important aspect because here we are, always complaining about the fact that female artists are undervalued and punished twice as much as a male artist because the music industry is misogynous and macho. That's true.

Society tends to forgive the mistakes of male artists who sometimes do more reprehensible things than female artists and all the mistakes of those female artists (Leigh-Ann of LM throwing shade at Camila) come to light more times and they are more hated. That is a part of the industry that I have always hated and that makes me sad at the same time because it always affects our girls. And I don't know what else I have left to say that I haven't already said, I hope I wasn't too confused with my ideas but it was something I had to write about and I've taken my time to do that. I don't know if Lauren is ever going to read this, but I wanted to thank her. Thanks moonchild. Thank you for giving us that piece of you that makes you vulnerable so that we know it. Thank you for being yourself, for teaching us that we can heal and continue to grow. Thank you for that beautiful mind of yours that has so much to express and deliver to this screwed up world. Don't stop being real, mija. Don't let that light you have go out. I love you so much moonchild ...

sorry for the long reading, folks but it was something I needed to said.

#lauren's attunement #lauren jauregui #cancel culture #dark diary #amy winehouse #vulnerability #music industry #artists #camila cabello #personal thoughts #long ass post #personal #family issues #co dependency #camren

[arcticdementor]

I have to begin this column by admitting that “Biden” (note: when in quotation marks, I refer to the “collective Biden”, not the clearly senile man) surprised me: it appears that my personal rule-of-thumb about US Presidents (each one is even worse than his predecessor) might not necessarily apply in “Biden’s” case. That is not to say that “Biden” won’t end up proving my rule of thumb as still applicable, just that what I am seeing right now is not what I feared or expected.

…

I think that both of these grossly oversimplify a probably much more complex and nuanced reality. In other words, “Biden” surprised many, if not most, Russians. That is very interesting by itself (neither Bush, nor Obama nor Trump ever surprised the Russians – who knew the score about all of them – in any meaningful way).

My strictly personal guess is that there is some very serious infighting currently taking place inside the US ruling class. Furthermore, that serious infighting is not about core principles or even strategy – it is a dispute over tactics only.

We have to keep in mind an old truism about outcomes: John F. Kennedy once said that “victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan” and he was right. When any group seizes power and effectively controls its interests, all is well, and everybody is busy consuming the proverbial milk and honey. But when this group suffers a series of humiliating defeats, a typical cascade of events begins:

Finger pointing: everybody blames everybody else (but never himself/herself)

Hindsight wisdom: “if I had been in charge, this would not have happened!”

Infighting over quickly shrinking spoils of war

A collapse of the centralized center of authority/decision-making centers

Generation of subgroups, fighting each other over their sub-interests

In other words, following many years of extremely weak presidential administrations (since Clinton, imho), it is hardly a surprise that infighting would take place (in both parties, by the way). In fact, an apparently chaotic set of uncoordinated, or even contradictory, policies is what one should expect. And that is exactly what we have been observing since 1993 and this dynamic has been getting worse and worse with each passing year).

…

That being said, there are some observations which might be helpful when trying to at least (indirectly) identify who are the main groups fighting each other.

The hardcore, really nutty, russophobes are still here, especially in the US media which seems to be serving not so much “Biden” as much as some “crazies in the basement” kind of cabal. Next to the legacy ziomedia, there is an increasing number of US/NATO/UK military officials who are foaming at the mouth with threats, warnings, complaints and insults, all against Putin and Russia. This is important because:

The “Zone A” media has comprehensively and very effectively concealed the very real risks of war with Russia, China and Iran. And if this was mentioned, the presstitutes always stressed that the US has the “best military in the history of the galaxy” and that Uncle Sam will “kickass” anybody he chooses to. If the people of the USA were informed of the truth of the matter, they would freak out and demand that this path to war be immediately abandoned and replaced with a meaningful dialog.

US/NATO/UK authorities have talked themselves into a corner where they have only two outcomes left: they can do what the US always does, that is to “declare victory and leave”, or they can force Russia to protect her borders on land, air and sea and, thereby, face a major military humiliation delivered by Russia.

Truth be told, during the recent naval exercises UK and US officials made a lot of threats and promises to ignore Russian warnings, but in the end, they quietly packed and left. Smart choice, but it must have been painfully humiliating for them, which is very dangerous by itself.

…

There will be many more NATO exercises in the Black Sea in the future. Ditto for USN operations off the Chinese, Iranian or DPRK coasts. This (always explosive) combo of ignorance, arrogance and incompetence could result in a major war.

LAnother option is the terminally delusional UK government (supported by those Brits who still have phantom pains about their lost empire and, of course, by the largely irrelevant 3B+PU gang) might do something really stupid (say, like this) and trigger a war with the DPRK, Russia, China or Iran and then the US would have to move to defend/save a British Navy which is mostly a joke (at least by Russian or Chinese standards). The main problem here being that the USN is also in a terrible shape and cannot compete against Russian and Chinese standoff weapons (I mean that literally, there are currently no defenses against maneuvering hypersonic missiles! The only exception would be the Russian S-500). The latter two nations, by the way, have joined into an informal and unofficial military alliance for many years already; check out this article and video or this one for a recent update).

But opposite, de-escalatory developments are also taking place. First and foremost, “Biden” seemed to have “farmed out” the “Ukrainian dossier” to the Germans and washed Uncle Shmuel’s hands from it. If so, that was a very slick and smart move (which is something we have not witnessed from any administration in decades!). I highly recommend this translation of a most interesting article by arguably the best Ukraine specialist out there, Rostislav Ishchenko.

Ishchenko goes into a lot of interesting details and explains what “Biden” apparently just did. Frankly, the Germans richly deserve this full-spectrum mess and they will be dealing with the consequences of this disaster for a long time, possibly decades. In fact, the Germans are stuck: they want to be the Big European Leader? Let them. After all, the EU politicians, led by Germany, did all they could to create what is now often called “country 404” – a black hole in the heart of the European continent. Germany is the biggest economic power of the EU? Good, then let the Germans (and the rest of the EU) pay for the eventual reconstruction of the Ukraine (or of the successor-states resulting from the breakup of the country)! Russia simply cannot foot that bill, China most definitely won’t (especially after being cheated several times by the Ukies) and the USA has absolutely no reasons whatsoever to do so. I would even argue that chaos (social, economic, political, cultural. etc.) in Europe is probably seen by the US ruling class as highly desirable since it 1) weakens the EU as a competitor 2) justifies, however hypocritically and mistakenly, a “strong US presence” in Europe and 3) gives NATO a reason (however mistaken, misguided and even immoral) to exist

The US is protected from the fallout (immigrants, violence, extremism, etc.) of the Ukrainian disaster by distance, the Atlantic, a much stronger military (at least compared to anybody else in NATO). The US can print money in any way it wants and has no interests whatsoever in the (dying) Ukraine. If Ishchenko is right, and I agree with him, then there is somebody (possibly a group of somebodies) who is a lot smarter than anybody in the Trump Admin and who figured out that the Nazi-occuppied Ukraine should be an German/EU problem, not one for the US.

There is, of course, also the pessimistic analysis: the US is on the retreat everywhere, but only for the following reasons:

Regroup, reorganize, buy time to develop some kind of coherent strategy

Focus on each adversary separately and prioritize (divide et impera at least!)

Re-analyze, re-plan, re-design, re-develop, re-train, re-equip and re-test pretty much everything in the US armed forces (which have not been shaped by any rational force planning in decades)

Those who believe the strategic retreat theory (I am not personally discounting this version, but I do not see enough evidence – yet – to endorse it either) typically add that “the US only left Afghanistan to hand it over to the Taliban/al-Qaeda and unleash them against “soft underbelly of Russia”. Now, that is utter nonsense, if only because Russia does not have a common border with Afghanistan.

…

Coming back to “Biden’s” great retreat: if “Biden” is smart enough to hang the Ukraine on Germany, “he” is probably too smart to predicate the US foreign policy towards Russia predicated around the “soft underbelly” thingie. As for all the “fire and brimstone” threats of war against Russia, they are not impressing anybody as the Russians, the Chinese and the Iranians know that a confident and powerful country does not need to threaten anybody, if only because the actual capabilities of these country are a very telling “threat” by themselves. But when a former superpower is weak, confused and frightened, it will make many roaring statements about how it can defeat the entire planet if needed (after all, the US military is “the best military in the history of the galaxy”! If you doubt that, just listen to Toby Keith!). In other words, while in the West threats are an instrument of foreign policy, in Russia, and in the rest of Asia, they are inevitably seen as a sign of weakness, doubts and even fear.

Then there seems to be a long list of weapons systems, procurement plans and “defense” monies which have been pulled back, including the (truly awful) LCS and F-35. While it is true that the US is gradually phasing out fantastically expensive weapons systems and platforms which were also more or less useless, this show the ability to at least admit that all that talk about super-dooper US superweapons was just that, talk, and that in reality the US MIC is incapable of producing the kind of superb high quality systems which it used to produce in large quantities in the past (Arleigh Burke, F-15, Jumbo 747, the Willys Jeep, F-16, A-10, Los Angeles SSN, KH satellites, etc.). This is why the F-15X is designed to “augment” the F-35 feet (by itself a very smart move!).

Such an admission, even if indirect and only logically implied, might show a level of maturity, or courage, by “Biden” which his predecessors did not have.

Could it be that the folks at the Pentagon, who do know the reality of the situation (see here for a very good Moon of Alabama article about this), figured out that Clinton, Bush, Obama and Trump vastly over extended the Empire and now they need to regroup and “re-everything” to achieve a more sustainable “defense” posture?

Could it be that “Biden” will deliver what Trump promised, i.e. to end the useless (and unwinnable!) wars, stop caring too much about the agonizing EU, silently accept that Russia has no intentions (and no need!) whatsoever to attack anyone and focus on the biggest non-military threat out there: China. Maybe.

As far as I know, many (all?) simulations – by RAND and the US military – and command staff exercises have shown that the US would lose badly to both Russia or China. Could it be that “Biden” wants to put Russia and China on the backburner and “deal” with Iran first? The latest news on the US/Israel vs Iran front is not good, to say the least.

…

So what are we left with?

Frankly, I am not sure.

I think that there is very strong, even if only indirect, evidence which there is some very serious in-fighting taking place in the “Biden” administration and there is also strong, but also indirect, evidence that the military posture of the United States is undergoing what might end up being a major overhaul of the US armed forces.

If true, and that is a big “if”, this is neither good news nor bad news.

But this might be big news.

Why?

Because, objectively, the current US retreat on most fronts might be the “soft landing” (transition from Empire to “normal” country) many Trump voters were hoping for. Or it might not. If it is not, this might be a chaos-induced retreat, indicating that the US state is crumbling and has to urgently “simplify” things to try to survive, thereby generating a lot of factional infighting (at least one Russian observer specialized in “US studies”, Dmitrii Drobnitskii, believes to be the case: see the original article here, and its machine translation here). Finally, the state of decay of the US state might already be so advanced that we can consider it as profoundly dysfunctional and basically collapsing/collapsed. The first option (soft landing) is unlikely, yet highly desirable. The second option (chaos-induced retreat) is more likely, but much less desirable as it is only a single step back to then make several steps forward again. The last option (profoundly dysfunctional and basically collapsing/collapsed) is, alas, the most likely, and it is also, by far, the most perilous one.

For one thing, options #2 and #3 will make US actions very unpredictable and, therefore, potentially extremely dangerous. Unpredictable chaos can also quickly morph into a major war, or even several major ones, so the potential danger here is very real (even if totally unreported in Zone A). This, in turn, means that Russia, China, Iran, the DPRK, Venezuela or Cuba all have to keep their guard up and be ready for anything, even the unthinkable (which is often what total chaos generates).

Right now, the fact that the US has initiated a “great retreat” is undeniable. But the true reasons behind it, and its implications, remain quite obscure, at least to me.

I will conclude by asking you, the readers, for your opinion: do you think that the US is currently in a “contraction phase”? If yes, do you believe that this is a short-term only phenomenon, or will this retreat continue and, if yes, how far?

#unz review #the saker

[captain-sodapop]

actually genuinely curious whether destiel antis are this way bc they’re homophobic or can’t get over the toxicity of the ship bc i def understand their latter but no one even,,, addresses it in their hate??

Hi!

I mean, let’s be real: for some of them, it’s definitely homophobia.  Not a valid reason for not liking destiel, and certainly not why I don’t ship it.  However, I do not know of anyone in my immediate circle who dislikes it for that reason.  In fact, I would be shocked if that were the case, considering so many of my friends on here ship sastiel, deanxbenny, jodyxdonna, dreamhunter, etc.  For me - and I think the majority of others (at least, I hope) it has nothing to do with it being an mlm ship.  There are other reasons why I don’t ship them (under the cut because it got pretty long):

1) I just...don’t like it?  Like, it’s that simple.  I’m not into seeing Dean and Cas together romantically.  From what I can tell, most of the general audience falls in this category, too.  I obviously don’t think it’s inherently wrong to ship it, and I try not to generalize.  i follow and have followers who ship destiel, and they’re lovely people!  I’m personally just not into it.  I literally cannot picture a romantic or sexual relationship between these two characters. 

2) There are certainly toxic elements to it, like you mentioned, and I think a lot of people notice this.  Nobody on this show is perfect, but it’s hard for me to look at Dean and Cas - who argue and belittle each other more than Cas or Sam, or Cas and Jack - and be like “oh yeah that’s true love.”  And often it’s Dean and his temper getting in the way of this.  Not to mention that Dean only recently forgave Cas for what happened to his mother, and that “apology” in 15x09 wasn’t really an apology for his previous behavior.  Yes, it was good to see Dean admit to having a horrible temper and let Cas know that he cares about him and forgives him, but it wasn’t truly an apology.  I just think that for as much as I enjoy their friendship, their relationship with each other doesn’t suit romance.  Look at Sam and Cas - I don’t ship sastiel, either, really, but I can see that their relationship is much more relaxed and understanding.  Plus there’s the fact that Dean (and Sam, of course, but he clearly wasn’t 100% on board and regretted it almost instantly) manipulated Jack and was willing to kill him, and Cas...Jack was Cas’s kid first, beloved and wanted, and even if Dean and Cas can be friends again, how do you even move on from that, really?  There are more examples of the more toxic element, but I’m already sorta getting long-winded here.

3) I ship Cas with other people, and so do others, so they just prefer him with someone else.  Totally cool, too.

4) I firmly and enthusiastically agree that people should have whatever headcanons they want and ship just about whatever they want (I also am firmly and enthusiastically against any pedophillic or incestuous ships, just so you know).  You think Dean is bi?  Awesome!  Sam is trans?  Love it!  Angels are on the autism spectrum?  I can totally see it!  Headcanons and shipping can make interacting with a text more personal and fun.  And text can definitely be open to interpretation, so it’s not even necessarily wrong to interpret Dean as bisexual.  But the way I read canon, Dean is straight.  I have never seen him express sexual or romantic interest in another man.  I’ve seen him acknowledge that another man is attractive, sure, but that’s normal.  I can admit that another woman is attractive, but still not want to be with her.  So for me, unless it’s explicitly stated in canon in these last seven episodes, I think it’s canon that Dean is straight and wouldn’t be interested in Cas anyway.  We can agree to disagree - I certainly welcome it! - but I’m someone who adheres pretty strictly to canon, usually.  And that’s how I see the canon.

5) One of the things I think supernatural has done better than a lot of other shows is show that families and friendships come in many forms.  To me, Team Free Will is a unit, and it would feel weird to me if any of them became romantically involved with each other, as if the dynamic had been thrown off-balance.  Same reason I don’t ship any of the boys in The Outsiders together - they’re a band of brothers, not necessarily related by blood, but a found family.  So when Dean says to Cas that he and Sam view Cas as a brother, then a romantic relationship between any of them would just feel...off to me.  

6) Finally, looking at the story and the character arcs and considering the character games, I do not see Dean ending up in a romantic relationship, or even wanting it.  Casual sex?  Yep.  A home?  Yep yep.  A family?  Yes, yes, yes a thousand times.  But a family, like I said above, can look like many things.  I also can’t see Cas ending up in a romantic relationship or wanting one (even though I ship megstiel.)  It’s just not where their stories seem to be headed.  Sam?  Sure.  I think the show is setting up him and Eileen to share some sort of romantic relationship in some capacity (which - woohoo!  At least on my end.)  But even then, that’s up in the air.  Romance is honestly the least of the characters’ - and especially the story’s - worries.  They have many much more pressing matters to attend to that need to be resolved first before any real talk of romance.

7) I feel like I should mention this even though it doesn’t have to do with the ship or the characters directly, but on the whole?  The destiel community is incredibly toxic.  Harassing cast and crew, harassing fans who disagree with them, superiority complexes, fetishization, unwillingness to listen to outside perspectives, believing their read of canon is the be-all end-all, and a dynamic that to me is eerily similar to the old Harry Potter fandom’s Inner Circle (of Cassandra Clare and msscribe fame).  This obviously doesn’t apply to every individual who ships destiel, but in general I don’t find the whole group pleasant to interact with or very welcoming.  It kinda turns you off the ship to know that’s the community you’re dealing with, and if/when destiel doesn’t go canon?  The toxicity will increase tenfold.  Hell, it’ll increase even if it does because their egos will go through the roof.  

I hope that clears some things up for you.  Once again, the fact that it’s an mlm ship IS NOT THE PROBLEM.  If anyone says that’s why they don’t ship it, fuck ‘em.  And there are many individual destiel shippers who are wonderful and I love interacting with, and are very understanding and accepting and non-toxic.  But these are the reasons I don’t ship it, so I’m sorry if I haven’t made that clear in the past.  I think a lot of people share the same reasoning, too, so I’m sorry if they haven’t made that clear either.  I know I sometimes get caught up in the wank and making jokes, and so do others, and our reasons for not shipping it can get lost in that.  I’m not trying to make any personal attacks.

But thank you for asking this, and I hope this cleared some things up for you!

#hope this helps! #supernatural #destiel #anti destiel #dean winchester #castiel #abby speaks

[ythmir-writes]

Fictober 2020, Day 01

Prompt: “No, come back!” Fandom: Obey Me! feat: Solomon Audience: Teen and up; mentions of wounds and blood

I know Solomon first as a regular customer in one of my supply shops. I can still remember the first time I had met him. You cannot miss that sort of power coming into a room. It’s a kind of tickling on your skin, a sense of foreboding that something larger than you can ever fathom has arrived, and you would best hurry along.

Most do. Even if you had not yet heard of how he survived a year in Hell unscathed, there was no mistaking the tattoo on the back of his left hand: a demon seal. Etched on skin and bone and soul. Very few survive the process of making a pact with a demon, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or a demon in disguise tempting you to try.

If only that kind of daredevil behavior translated properly into how Solomon presented himself. He had an affable smile and an air of politeness around him that almost made you forget about the rumors. In the times I had spoken with him, he replied only in gentle tones. He also always paid up-front, and whenever he needed bulk orders for whatever concoction a sorcerer of his calibre needed, he afforded the shop enough time to prepare them.

Surely a fellow practitioner to whom the Council had nothing but praise for, must be a good person – is what his entire demeanor said. Surely someone who looks the way he do, who is pleasant the way he is, who never misses payment, is not a man to be feared.

Most dismiss his smile as veneer; nothing more than a ploy. For what reasons, the stories are endless. There is always some poor sap or other who had seemingly witnessed the atrocities Solomon had done, who had seen the shadows yield to him, who had seen him with blood on his hands and mouth. A human simply cannot survive living with demons without some evil in him.

And he was a sorcerer. Everyone knew their magic was different for a reason. That this reason has been lost to time and has long been laid rest in numerous debates in academic circles was often ignored by those who disliked him.

It did not help that Solomon did nothing to dissuade whatever was untrue.

✧ ✧

It also did not help that often Solomon had peculiar requests, some of which were too strange and dangerous to the point that if he had any special orders, it would be best that I handled them directly. Being discrete was important in our line of work.

The strangest request being a bottle that could hold a soul, in exchange for knowledge.

To be fair, it was a simple trade. Basically, a commission. If not that, then a barter.

Solomon wanted my expertise. He was the rising star of sorcerers, a human with such uncanny ability and talent he had his own personal grimoire. And while I may not carry the same infamy as him, I was one of the few apprentices of Isabel, the Witch of the Sierra Madre. And that was fame by and in itself. For all that the world has always lived with magic, there still remains some practices most find distasteful.   

Or at least he knew that Isabel, had an apprentice who was just as good but less susceptible to dark moods.

“Your words, not mine.” I had said, the moment the words left him. “Best not to speak ill of her, even if she is not in the same room.”

“Or country.” Solomon had agreed, but shrugged nonetheless, as if suffering Isabel’s wrath was all in a day’s work.

“Why not go to Isabel herself?” I had asked the obvious question.

“I am currently pressed for time,” He had admitted, looking sheepish at that. “I simply cannot afford to fulfil her many side requests before she considers if she would commit.”

“I should charge extra for convenience.”

“So you will do it?”

To set the record straight, it had taken me more than five minutes before I made a counter-offer. “Two pages from your grimoire, and you let me meet the Demon you made a pact with.”

“How long will it take?”

“Give me a week.”

“But if I give you the ingredients?”

“I don’t trust your ingredients.” I had answered honestly.

Solomon had laughed at that. “Only a true arbularyo would say that.”

“Only a true arbularyo could do it in a week’s time.” I had explained. “You want a real soul bottle, you have to make time. Anything rushed and it could break.”

Solomon had nodded, as if he knew that undesirable result only too well. Then, he had offered his hand to me. The hand with the demon seal. “It’s a deal.”

And what else could I have done but take it? We shook hands, professionals and in a way, peers. “I know it’s not my business, but in theory, having a general description of the soul you plan to keep would make it easier to hold them indefinitely.”

“Then I suppose, if you’re free, you could meet Asmodeous now and he could give you a thorough description of her.”

But of course Solomon made a pact with a Lord of Hell.

✧ ✧

I know Solomon second as a friend. You interact with someone on a consistent and regular basis, and you begin to know some things about them. Small glimpses shared in the moments when goods and payment exchange hands.

I know he preferred his mushrooms whole, no matter the kind. He knows I prefer to be paid in coins, rather than bills. I know he keeps a list of true names with him, always. He knows I have a latent talent for necromancy I am too afraid to explore. I know he likes to make quips about everything. He knows I find them insufferable. I know he is an absolutely terrible cook. He himself does not know this.

I know he has more than one demon seal on his body. He knows I keep a small collection of peculiar skulls in the back room of the shop.

I know Solomon did more than just survive in Hell. He knows I can be persuaded to look the other way for the right book.

Small glimpses but nothing harmless. Enough that favors could be exchanged when the need arises. I know that often he would go away on some grand adventure. He knows I have a spare room in my apartment he could use while he smelled of brimstone and death without judgment, for a story. He knows I hate the trinkets he keeps giving me as souvenirs. I know he hates my singing. I know that he has a stash of questionable encyclopaedias in his private safe and he knows exactly where he can keep the key safe  in my library.

Rapport is important. Second only to your word of honor. There were already few of us who understood that magic is life. Magic is blood. And that as practitioners, we should never discriminate based solely on origin.

But I digress.

I am often asked this question: if I had known that associating in any way with Solomon would end with the way it did, would I still want to associate with him at all?

Obviously, yes. I would have.

Power and knowledge rarely come knocking voluntarily on your door. Most have fought for it, or bled, or sacrificed, or have done numerous ghastly things for a sliver. A few have even died for it.

Solomon had walked up to me, offered his hand, and offered a trade.

Only a fool would have turned him down.

✧ ✧

And only a fool would not help a friend in need.

I trust Solomon and his abilities. No ordinary human can simply manage to tattoo most of their body with demon seals without skill and strength. Most people forget that a demon has to like you before it would even consider making a pact – and that was already a feat in itself. You had to be strong enough to survive the seal. Stronger still, to carry demon magic as part of your own.

It was not to say I had never been tempted to try. However, Asmodeous had taken one good look at me and told me I would not survive. I took no offense and believed him. My magic was simply not made for the living.

So, I have never pressed Solomon into telling me what his business was in Hell. For his sake, and mine. Demons know when you speak their name. Solomon might fearlessly recount the stories he feels are safe to share, pronouncing ancient names others would go mad from just by hearing, but that is for him to do. I can only listen and sometimes, tell him he had made an absolutely lame joke. Whatever detail I do ask him are of the other players, the angels, the mortal transferees, the lucky (or unlucky) souls invited to glimpse the other planes.

However, when he suddenly appeared one night, wounded, terribly disoriented, and still clutching the very first soul bottle I had made for him in his hands, I knew something had gone very very wrong.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Solomon had whispered, his eyes barely focusing on me. “I didn’t meant to go back here, I’m sorry –!” Solomon’s body had begun to glow. He had been about to use a teleportation spell despite his obvious confusion.

I pulled at his arm. “Solomon! No, come back!”

At this point, it is obvious that I have much respect for Solomon as a sorcerer. I want to make it of record that the same cannot be said when it comes to his impromptu decisions like these. Even a child knew better than to teleport while confused.

“Solomon, don’t be an idiot.” I pulled him back, pushing away the remnants of his magic. “You are here because you thought you would be safe here. You are. Don’t make me have to clean the rest of my apartment of your blood.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t talk, don’t use sorcery.” I had sternly said. “I will grab bandages and you will stay.”

“Chasing me…”

“Stay, Solomon.” I pulled him towards me, pressed his forehead to mine. “Stay.”

If Solomon had made further protests, I was tempted to smack him into unconsciousness just to get him to lie still. As it happens, there had been no need for any of that. His wounds had been far deeper, his coat soaking up most of the blood.

I have seen enough in my life to be able differentiate between the kind of unexpected you could learn from and the kind you cannot escape. This is not an exaggeration of my abilities. You do not survive through and finish kulam apprenticeship without developing a sort of sense for these things.

And this, whatever Solomon had tangled himself in, was definitely the latter.

(part 2)

#fictober20 #obey me! #obey me! solomon #ythmir fanfics #i'll come up with a title.... eventually #obey me #obey me solomon

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfiction. Chapter V

Summary: Isabel resorts to a higher power to try and protect Javi in his journey and she recalls a very special day years ago in Laredo.

Warning: Nothing I think (brief mention of sex but nothing explicit)

A/N: This is a smaller chapter compared to the recent ones and it feels like a small pause between the first part of this story and Javi’s journey after he leaves that will come in later chapters, and also the reason behind the series name. Sorry for any mistake, bad grammar and misspellings, thank you for your feedback :)

Masterlist

Chapter IV

Chapter V: A lost cause

His weight over her and his soft breathing on her nape makes Isa smile before she opens her eyes. But that annoying voice she cannot shut reminds her that he’s leaving. His arm is over her waist the two of them cuddling in the small space of Javi’s old room bed. The room hasn’t been touch since he left Laredo, he still has some small details of his past self before he went away and changed to the man that’s pressed against her back. She places her hand over his watching their golden rings.

She remembers his shy kiss at the wedding, he had never kissed her like that even when they were just starting; and Javi had placed his big hand over her belly while doing so and then he bend down and kissed her swollen stomach. He had looked at her with such a bright smile that all her doubts had been lifted. And she thought there was a chance for happiness that maybe things were rush but they could work it out. Isabel wants to see him again like that, to see him look at her as if it’s the only thing that matters, but lately there was something lacking. Clearly he needed more in life. It’s a lost cause.

The urge to use the bathroom makes her move out of the bed even though she wants to be wrapped up in his arms for the rest of the day. She tosses Javi’s shirt on and walks stealthily towards the toilet, but from the corner of her eye she sees old Chucho dress up in a suit and his white hat.

“Morning, mija” he greets grabbing the car keys

“Chucho, you were going to church, right?”

“Yes, you can go back to bed if you want, I’ll be back in half an hour”

“Do you mind if I go with you?”

“Not at all” he nods and smiles at her “But hurry up or we will be late”

Que la paz sea con vosotros the priest has his hands raise to the heavens and Isa sighs muttering the usual response as everybody in church. She has never been the religious type but as her mother said “when you’re desperate who do you turn to?” and she’s desperate for an answer a promise that actually can assure her that Javi will be alright and that he will be back and all his desire to fight this never ending war will vanish.

“Let’s go, mija” Chucho offers her his arm “It was a beautiful service, do you mind staying just for a minute I always light a candle for my wife”

“Of course” she pats his hand while he guides her through the aisle towards a small statue of the Virgin Mary, a small table bellow is full of little white electric candles that flicker imitating the real ones, Chucho kisses his coin before throwing it in the small slot.

“You still love her after all this time” he nods fondly, there’s a hint of pain and longing in his eyes behind the glasses

“Every day of my life” his voice comes out a little bit shaky

“Elvira was a lucky woman” Isa, still holding his arm, rests her head on his shoulder

“I did give her a hurt time too. I was stubborn, didn’t talk much, I didn’t tell her how much I loved her as much as I should have”

“Mm, it’s sounds just like someone I know” Isa sighs

“I know, but he does love you very much” Chucho pats her hand and they walk away to a beautiful sunny day in Laredo

“Well, it would hurt if he said it with words from time to time”

“Yeah, never been a good talker” he agrees and waves to some people he knows from town “You wanted to come with me to pray for him?”

“Yes and to remember the good times, I’ve never been back to this church since our wedding” Isa turns to face the white façade and remembers a day very different from this once almost seven years ago.

A sudden storm had hit the town two hours before the wedding, the trees fought back against the wind and the only sound in the church was the violent air swirling outside and hitting the windows and wooden door. Almost every guest had called and apologized for not attending and the plan to host an outdoor reception was cancelled. They ended up inside Chucho’s house. They moved his living room furniture to the corners and installed the plastic white table for the reception inside, a few family friends, Isa’s parents and Javi’s dad where the only attendees, by the newlywed really didn’t care at all. Javier had his hand over her belly all the time and had looked at her as if she was a miraculous apparition

“You look beautiful” he had said when the conversation between the guests was flowing nicely and they could focus on themselves. Isabel had bought a lace and vaporous dress the only thing that fitted with her belly growing each day. She had compared her look as a big old tablecloth but the way he was looking at her, somehow she believed she was beautiful.

“Medallas y estampas del Señor, la Guadalupana, también tenemos del Arcángel San Miguel, San Judas Tadeo y todos los Santos” a small old lady call for them from a simple little stand “All proceedings go for the orphanage” she completes and shows them a wicker basket full of plastic cards with different Saints on them, angels, Jesus and the Virgin.

“¿Ha dicho que tenía de San Judas Tadeo?” (You said you have one for Saint Jude Thaddeus?) Isa approached her “My grandma used to pray to that saint, always said that I was a lost cause because I didn’t want to clean up my room and that she prayed that he would give her more patient with me” she recalls with a warm smile

“Tengo estampitas y medallas, señora” (I have small cards and medallions) the old lady shows on each of her palms the small laminated image of Saint Jude and a small silver medallion with a simple cord

“I take the medallion, thanks” the woman smiles warmly and puts the necklace on a small paper envelope and thanks Isa when she leaves a few bills on the small box where they’re collecting the money.

“Let’s see if he really works miracle on lost causes”

Javi has been preparing his car for his trip tomorrow, checking on the tires, his papers and luggage and that he has enough gas. Elvira and Chucho are getting the animals inside their corrals while the orange light of sunset illuminates the trees and the river around the property. A beautiful view of her child laughing with her grandpa but that it’s clouded by the notion that in a few hours, Javier would be away.

“You have everything?” Isa squeeze his husband broad shoulders

“Yes, I think” he turns and grabs her by the waist

“I got you something” Isa reaches for her jean shorts pocket where she kept the medallion and leaves the small envelope on his palm “It’s nothing really”

“Gracias” he smiles when he takes out the simple brown cord with the silver medallion, he raises his eyebrow confused

“This is San Judas Tadeo, patron saint of the lost causes” she bites her lip while he inspects it

“And I am a lost cause, is that so?” he asks with a playful smile

“I’m beginning to think you are, yes. My grandma used to pray to Saint Jude so she would be more patient with me”

“And what are praying for?”

“That this will be the last time you have to go, that you will see for good how this job hurts you and that you have to let it go”

They say goodbye before bed since Javi will be leaving before dawn. From the door frame, Isa listens how he says goodbye to their child.

“You promise you’ll be back for my birthday”

“I promise”

They hug tight and he tucks in her sheets before closing the door.

“Pops” he hugs Chucho

“Be careful, mijo”

Javi walks towards Isa but she stops him before he could say a thing “I’m going to wake up when you leave”

“You don’t have to, Isa”

“I can get back to bed after. Let’s go to bed so you get a good 8 hours” they hold hands and enter his room.

“Good night, kids” Chucho says before closing his room door.

The single bed creaks with their weight and the many years of use, Javi holds her from behind since is the only position they both are able to fit. Isa laces her fingers with his and they stay in silence even if they are not asleep.

Isabel remembers how they were on that same position on their wedding night. The plan was to leave to the resort they had booked as a small trip for their honeymoon promising that once she gave birth to the baby they could organize a bigger holiday (it never happened) but the storm had made it impossible to drive and so they stayed with Chucho. Javi didn’t try to touch her more that it was necessary since the bed didn’t allow much movement but Isabel moved to entice him pressing her back to his hips but he didn’t say a thing or moved with her until she spoke

“I need you Javi”

“Baby, you should rest”

“You won’t hurt me”

And so they’re first time as husband and wife had been in that small bed covered in the same sheets that Javi had had since he was a teenager, slowly moving his hips against her and trying to quite down their moans.

I’m going to take good care of you he had said rubbing her belly when they were finished of my girls

“I’m going to take good care of you, Javi, even if you resist” Isa murmurs, she expects Javi to ask why she said that out of nowhere but he’s snoring softly his big body already relaxed on his side.

Isabel wakes up suddenly when, still asleep, she has moved and feeling the extra space she rushes towards the door. The light enters brightly through the windows and she knows she’s already late. Barefoot she runs to the door and even though the soil is humid with the morning dew she walks to the small path leading to the ranch iron gate. She sees the car’s traces on the ground. Javi’s gone. She walks to the house trying to control the sobs and sniffs that crush her chest.

After cleaning herself up and the trails she left after entering the house, she finds a small piece of paper on the desk in Javi’s room. Beside an old promotion picture and some chipped almost invisible sticker he had glued on the wood, he wrote:

(Image reads: See you in a week, don’t need to pray to anybody, I’ll always come back to you)

#Javier Peña #Javi Peña #Javier Peña x ofc #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña fic #Narcos #Narcos fanfic #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Pedro Pascal characters fanfiction #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #Javier Pena #Javier Pena fanfic

[spnsmile]

Title:  Stranger Things

Summary: When Sam and Dean went to hell to look for the Occultum and Castiel went to the Empty and he got results. He was so happy to find Sam and Dean back when he wakes up until—

“You’re an idiot, by the way,” Dean says, a typical greeting. Then there’s the second Dean freed from the wall flirting at him, Castiel thinks he has enough of Dean to deal in one day.   

You will treat Castiel with respect, Huntercorp Dean!

Rating: M

Word Count: 7550

Tags/Warnings: Established Destiel, 15x13 coda, fluff, too much fluff, talks and fluff, established relationship, Huntercorp Dean

Written for the @supernaturalpromptchallenge for April prompt: Health and Well being Prompt 1. Full Recovery & 2: Massage

Enjoy!~~~~~~~~~~~“You’re an idiot, by the way.” 

Castiel grimaces. It's not the greeting he wanted from Dean after his harrowing escape from the Empty. He can still feel the torment of the Shadow, the creeping sadness and regret that coursed through his essence like a river still eerily fresh.

Then there's Dean calling him an ‘idiot' with vigor, which was unfair when they both did something equally dangerous. Dean going to hell wasn’t any smarter but Castiel refrains from waging war. Energy is required for the arduous task of engaging Dean, something which he currently doesn't have at his disposal.

So he ignores Dean. He talks to Sam, concentrates on making them understand his choice at the same time trying to fully recover his strength. It’s not easy to jump back in his vessel right after being in his amorphous form. The sensation of pain cast by the Entity was gone, but the residual effect of his grace rolling through his veins took time. He escapes the Empty and that should be a cause for celebration.

But then there’s Dean breathing down on him like a pissed rhino-bear.

Castiel hates this frying pan and fire scenario where Dean gets to be the fire giving him a real burning sensation in his blood— no, you don’t understand— Castiel can pet a rhino and a bear. He doubts the same approach would work on Dean. Unsurprisingly, pizza works on Dean. He and Jack bought so many for him the last time too. Jack calls Dean the pizzaman these days, but Castiel doesn't have the patience for the pizzaman today.

Distractedly explaining about Ruby and the location of the Occultum artifact gets him some fresh air. But he was still stung by Dean’s greeting, so he gets up when he felt less clammy then demands, “Do you still think I’m an idiot?”

The daggers in Dean’s eyes disappear but the cross features remain. Dean hesitates a moment, then fumes back.

“Well, yeah!” 

Castiel tilts his head. Dean is still angry and murderous. Rhinos are easier to understand. Bears too. He’d still choose Dean though. As he understands, it’s part of Dean’s charm, to be his usual overprotective self not only to Sam nowadays. Castiel by extension and Jack. It takes a second for Dean to become amiable about this whole mess until they all agreed they gotta get down the road now.

Finally, moving in the right direction.

Until Dean tells them his ‘dumb’ idea.

Castiel follows Dean to the corridor while he explains his plan, all the while Castiel is still uncomfortable in his skin. He can't point it but there's a crawling needle prickling at the back of his head. Dean opens the door where they are keeping the Sam and Dean Winchesters stuck on the wall.

It’s not so dumb after all. To make decoys of the alternate universe Winchesters stuck on the wall. Long story short, they need the ingredients for the spell which Sam and Jack are now retrieving from the storage room, leaving Castiel and Dean sitting beside each other with arms crossed.

Nobody spoke for a minute. They watch the ghost of the brothers make dunderheads of each other with routine slaps on the shoulders. Castiel looks at Dean from the corner of his eyes. The jutting outline is magnificent from his view but Dean won't look at him.

"Are we not going to talk about your mini outburst?" he begins slowly, hesitating if it was the right time to ask. In the last couple of months, he tried to move on with a severe connection from Dean after their fallout. He found he can live without Dean but with a shocking revelation that he didn't want to. He's not going to go through that again. Rowena was right about fixing things.

Dean makes a face.

"I dunno, do you?”

"Well, I am the one asking." he points out.

"Right." Dean clicks his tongue, "I dunno, Cas. I mean you sneak around behind me doing your stuff without regard to your being, and then you always expect me to understand it's okay. I know we live a hard life, but one of the things I get jumpy all the time is because I know the people around me are capable of doing the stupid stuff. And I'm not just talking about you, okay?" he clarifies, glaring at Castiel who opens his mouth to argue.

Castiel closes his lips, nodding. He peers closely in Dean's eyes with things getting clearer. It always gets clearer when Dean voices out his concerns. But he stands by his choice.

"I just wanted to help with the mission.”

"I know you do, Cas. But sneaking behind me- what's next? I learn you die?’

Castiel looks away. He can feel Dean's eyes boring on his face but he can't look back. He feels Dean's turmoil now, electric wires vibrating in his skin.

"Sometimes we think it's the right choice. But when we do stuff without thinking of what those around us will feel, about those people we leave behind, that scares me." Dean's voice grows quiet. "Because it's usually me who gets left to deal anyway, and if you don't care about that... nothing I could do but just worry every day, I guess.”

Castiel clasps Dean's arm, heart-wrenching. The tight grasp earns him a surprised gasp, but that's how much he wants to hold Dean. He understands it now, why Dean needs to get angry.

"I'm sorry," he says, feeling hollow. A word that cannot encompass how regretful he is of his choices, and the choices he hasn't revealed. It pained him to think of Dean in the end, but he still couldn't say a word about his deal with the Shadow. But he meets Dean's eyes. Deeply. Sincerely. With all his heart."Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean looks somberly back at him behind the veiled green eyes of pain. Castiel pulls Dean to him and embraces the man, breath hitching. Castiel always finds himself getting drawn over Dean's reasoning. That's how Dean's mind works. How his heart works. Dean's so bright even then.

"S'long as you know." Dean hugs him back, both hands on Castiel's lower back, reeling him in and the tension broke, his body dropping heavily on Castiel like jelly. "I need you safe, Cas.”

But the way Dean sighs, it's like a wish, a prayer unattainable. Castiel wished he could grant it with a whip of his grace. He wants to protect Dean so badly but he can't do anything about the man's deep concerns so all he can do is press a kiss on his cheek.

"You know I always return to you, Dean." he pulls back, smiling at Dean's glistened eyes, brows contorting at the flushed speck of freckles. "How do I comfort you?”

"Give me a massage?”

"Massage?"

Dean nods, blushing, hands still on Castiel's hips. "M'yeah. Took a beating from hell when Jo's lackeys ambushed us. You know how you angels get to make demons your dogs now?”

But Castiel is already running his hands over Dean's cheeks and shoulders.

"Were you hurt? I can heal you.”

"No, you dork. Do you think I didn't notice how sluggy you were back there after your little trip to the Empty?  We still need your grace for Dean 2 over there, I don't want you too tired. By the way, you’ll know the difference between me and that handsome dumbass, right?”

“Of course.” Castiel throws him a frown. “Your duplicates may have a copy of your appearance and soul, but I don't share my profound bond with all other Dean Winchesters out there the way I do with you. I expect this one to be just this… handsome dumbass.”

Dean smiles in satisfaction. The smile that turns upside down when he looks over his shoulder to the brothers giggling for some reason.

“They don’t look too bothered to be stuck on the wall.”

Castiel suppresses another chuckle. He gets his hands on the meat of Dean's shoulder and begins doing the massage routine he often observes humans do. He likes it when Dean looks back at him after a sexy moan. Castiel narrows his eyes at him.

“Believe me, their tolerance of Supernatural is… incredible. Maybe that's one thing they got from the original? The fact that they look very… equable about all this inconvenience in face of danger is just like you and Sam.”

"Ah, fuck, that's good." Dean hums at a very good dig between his shoulder blades. “They can’t feel they’re in a wall? How does that work? Are they only souls now?”

Cas shrugs. “Suspended animation, though,  I doubt they can even see anything pass each other.”

“What about their stupid car?”

“I don’t see it anywhere.”

“You think it’s stuck on another wall?” Dean looks around in alarm with an arched eyebrow.  Castiel smiles at the grumpy expression knowing well Dean’s tastes. He did a compression over the bulky muscles. Dean exhales.

"Cas, you're fucking me.”

"Quiet. Jack can hear us." he orders and Dean clamps his mouth in submission. After a moment, the corners of lips curls mischievously.

"I'm glad you're safe, Cas.”

"I have to. Who else can make you moan like this." he uses a bit of his grace, softening the tight tissues covering Dean's shoulders to his back. Dean gives an out loud grunt with his fingers digging over Castiel's hips. He pulls their hips together and grinds their front. Castiel kisses his moan.

"You sure those idiots can't see us? We're not giving them free porn subscription, right?”

Castiel squints back at the ghosts like Winchesters. The Winchesters on the wall remained in their world,  but Castiel’s attention is no longer on them. Dean is building up some good pressure in their front. He listens carefully to Sam and Jack's footsteps too, it's not something the boy should see yet. He finger-kneads Dean's neck, going as far as the back of his neck. It elicited some satisfying effect on Dean's expression.

Castiel looks down between them. It's not good. At this rate, they will be distracted.

"I'm going to hunt Jo after this. We cannot trust her.”

"Seriously, Cas? You're gonna talk about a random angel while I get my boner on you?”

“I’m just saying, at this late stage, we don’t know whose side she is and that’s dangerous.  Anael is cunning,  Dean. She won't work for us, then she works for against us.” he watches Dean's eyes dip sleepily and smiles. "You like it?”

“Your hand works like magic, babe. I got a bruised elbow and banged hip,  we still kicked their ass though.”

Castiel works his eyes over from Dean’s elbow to his hip with overprotection coursing through his body. He doesn’t see blood and he’s not waiting for it. Jo needs to be reminded about how the Winchesters are under his protection.

“Here,” he adds pressure on his fingers kneading Dean's nape. It elevated the stiffness on Dean's jaw and he's moaning again. Castiel thought he’d never recover from that. "Sexy Winchester." He whispers.

Dean snorts out of nowhere. Their eyes lock softly. Dean looking with an intense fixation on his lips. Castiel can feel Dean wanting to lean down, but he's currently holding the hunter's nape hostage under his expert massaging hands. When he realized he won't be doing any kissing soo, Dean satisfies himself with drinking Castiel's blue eyes.

"Should stop before Samwitch finally decides we need to be stuck on the wall too." he murmurs. Castiel nods but it takes them a full minute to pull away from each other.

Dean steps a little away, shifting on his jeans to do something about his boner. Castiel looks down his front, uses his grace to calm his steamy reaction to Dean. There are always steamy days with Dean in the Bunker. They worked their way over it after their little trip in Purgatory but they've never gone far. Not with all the things happening around them, they don't even have time to breathe.

Dean clears his throat after a moment, then jumps to a change of subject.

“Sam is hideous with the John Snow bun, what is the thinking? And my guy in the flashy  jacket too ‘yellowy’ if you ask me.”

Castiel is glad for the quick save. “I agree with the contrast in nature so you shouldn’t be worried about your close friends being unable to tell the difference.  The flashy jacket is an indication enough. Although it does compliment the color of your eyes.” He does think of that deeply, more than he cares to admit.

He finds Dean eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You think that awful color brings out the color of my eyes? Do you think I should wear that? I’d rather kill myself if someone made me wear that.”

“Let’s not give out points of weakness.” Castiel frowns.  “He doesn’t dress that bad for a human.”

“Wow, Cas? Are you gonna jump sides when he comes out? Got another guy to lay the profound bond?” Dean teases lightly.

“Now you’re being an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“No matter how much you look like, he'll never be you and you will never be him. Just like how Jimmy is not the same as me even when we share the same vessel. And you don't need bright colors to bring out how much you shine,  Dean. You are too bright enough on your own for me.”

He doesn't expect Dean bumping his shoulder with his own, grinning from ear to ear. Butterflies tumble inside his stomach is what he would explain his sudden blush. DEan can make him lose it time and again, but not when he's so happy like this. Castiel can live with Dean just smiling like this every day.

“When did you learn how to suck up, Cas?”

“I don't do suck up, I don't understand suck up. And I was saying the truth, Dean.” 

“Sounds like mighty sucking if you ask me, or is it because you like me?”

Castiel doesn't answer. There's something inside him that wants to burst from happiness, but at the same time, freezes him every time he does. The crawling feeling is back again and he crosses his arms so Dean won't notice.

Dean did. He steps closer.

"What's wrong?”

"Nothing." no, it's not 'nothing'. He suddenly feels cold. The claws of torment from the Empty is gripping him, closing on his throat tight. He's sure Dean can see it, though he doesn't know how. Maybe his bond with Dean has intensified over the years.

"Cas, Tell me, okay? What's wrong?”

He meets Dean's eyes again, feeling Dean is allowed this much truth at least when Dean has shown him the same vulnerability just now.

"I was just... I don't do overthinking as much as you humans tend to do but, I suddenly had this bad feeling from the Empty. Like it's sucking me back, literal sucking Dean." he gulps with a sigh. Dean's gentle palm touches his cheeks.

Green eyes are frighteningly bright, brighter than the sun. And Dean's smiling so confidently, Castiel feels all the darkness in his heart melts away.

“Heh. Stop worrying about it, Cas. Don't think we won't find a way to get you out there. I won't let that happen."

And Castiel believes him. Believes in Sam and Dean Winchester, the men who broke doors from heaven, hell, Purgatory and alternate universes… of course. Being just who they are. It's strange how Dean can calm him. It's stranger because all his worries just vanish like Dean is the answer to his own prayers. But stranger things have happened like how he just wants to kiss Dean over again. The Empty doesn't nag even then, maybe because he still worries for Dean at the back of his mind.

Even worrying for Dean if the Empty does come. It's all strange, this thing between them.

Castiel smiles, Dean's confidence flowing to him. Strange how Dean is like his angel. "Thank you, Dean.”

Dean beams.

"Any time. But if you wanna return the favor, just comfort me how my double self can wear all that fabric?" Dea nods at the wall. He is always good at dodging and dropping cheesy stuff. So they're back at the 'wardrobe' critiquing.

They run their eyes on the material. Dean tucking his arms closer as if it pains him on many levels. “Ugh. How can he run with all that fabric?”

“Run from who?”

“It’s a given I’m always being chased whatever universe I am in, okay?”Castiel stares at him at loss. Dean stares back then rolls his eyes when he realized Castiel didn’t get it. Arms violently untangling from his chest, he points at his face.

“Oh, come on! This face, really?”

Confused, Castiel shakes his head wordlessly.

“Good thing you're hot, Cas, and I like your coat too." Dean drops it.

“I like my coat. Physical appearance remains a concept to angels, Dean. We don't find value in what the naked eyes can see.” he looks from Dean to the other Dean. “But I'm sure Chuck will see the difference. He is ’god’.”

“You think it’s a dumb idea too?”

“No, I think it’s unnecessary.” Castiel admits, “but it hardly matters now, we are going to release them from this wall one way or another.”

“What are you going to do if you’re the one stuck on the wall?” Dean grins. “I’d do the same thing.” The watch the brothers play rock paper scissors again. Castiel squints with a hint of amusement.

“I believe you.”

“You do?” Dean plasters a smile, Castiel can’t help staring at his lips for a moment before turning back to the wall.“Yeah, as long as you don’t blast the wall when you go do the rescues stuff, maybe I should worry.” Dean smiles goofily at him, nudging his shoulder. He leans too close, his breath against Castiel's skin. “Don’t blast the wall. I'll lose it, I tell you. Cause that's hot. I like it when you're badass.”

Castiel flushes, but he swallows down his answer when Jack and Sam return, carrying ingredients for the spell. Sam asks for his grace which Castiel quickly hands over by the table. Sam is talking but Castiel can only glare at Dean. He pulls away when Sam calls his name, doing so gives him a closer look at the wall where the other Dean now is inspecting the wall with round eyes.

It's strange how he can look at Dean's face and not feel the same thing. He shoots his Dean a look and there's that warm fuzzy feeling by only looking at Dean's creased brows. Castiel looks back at the other Dean. The round eyes and smooth expression. He doesn't feel a thing. .So strange... This Dean

If his Dean staring back at him with no recognition in his eyes, it would devastate him. He finds himself glancing back to his Dean with longing. Dean seems to catch on when Castiel returns to his side.

Dean gives him questioning look bordering to concern. Castiel just nods and together, they watch as Sam finalizes the spell and move back. Jack stands beside Castiel with a worried expression. Jack has learned the art of expression.

Quietly, they watch the simmering white smoke of the angel's grace erupt from the bowl followed by a blinding flash of light.

When Castiel opens his eyes next, he is staring at the living breathing forms of the Winchester brothers looking back, struck at their copies staring right back at them.

"This is..." Jack starts, blinking in awe.

"Strange." Castiel finishes for him.

There’s a beat when nobody breathes. Until the other Dean grins from ear to ear like he hasn’t just been peeled from the wall unceremoniously. He double-takes and points at Castiel’s Dean. 

“Now that’s something worthy of my memoir.” he breathes in excitement.

Dean face screws, Castiel’s too.  “You have a mem-what?”

This Dean flashes a boyish grin that struck Castiel. It holds no features of Dean’s distinctive nature, no mood, no heaviness, no lines of pain on his smooth face whatsoever. It struck Castiel just how much the two Dean’s are unalike. And he won’t begin with the bright souls. They are similar in structure, but different in weight at the same time and he’s glad he can tell.

The weight on his Dean the one he’s bonded to draws him with open gravitation.

“Uhmm…” says the singsong voice of Dean’s alternate. “This is hard to swallow.  Would you give me your best whiskey I need a break and a good bath and a good bed.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.  Dean’s eyes bore on his doppelganger too,  and a tiniest forced smile appears on his lips.

 “I bet it is. And no. Not until you grant us a little favor.”

The alternate Sam Winchester looks around with open palms.  “Sure,  I mean we know you have lots of questions-”

“Oh yeah,  like how you two were able to open a rift on your own,” Sam says fixing his doppelganger a look.

“No one’s going to get me a whiskey?” The alternate Dean’s eye falls on Castiel’s way and he cringed at the evidence that he saw.  He can tell with just a glance now,  deep into that soul, this is not the real Dean.

The green eyes linger at him for a moment,  then looked back distractedly when his own alternate brother spoke.

“Maybe we can do this with proper accommodation? I mean,  we don’t mean to impose-”

“Oh,  you wouldn’t.” Dean shakes his head,  “We have jobs for you.”

“A…  job…” Alternate Sam’s voice falters, line appearing on his forehead where his hair is tightly pulled back.  Sam furrows his own brows,  glancing at Dean uncertainly. 

“So are we just gonna stand here or what?” Dean asks a little impatiently. He nods at the door to indicate where to go. The alternate universe Winchesters exchange a look before man bun Sam turns to Dean.

“Just a little curious and an answer to your- my other versions query.  We opened a rift using high technology science and supernova power from the collapsing world. We know by theory it is possible when something godlike is present in our world.  We know Apocalypse was coming and been prepared for so long… Now,  I’d like to know how you got us out from there?” he points delicate hands on the wall behind him. “That kind of spell must need some kind of celestial energy.?

“Uh, yes. Cas got that covered for us.” Sam answers,  nodding over Castiel who primly sets into his reset mode as the eyes fall on him. Other Dean gives him a once over,  his mouth dropping open.

“The guy in the trench coat helped you, how?” the other Sam asks skeptically.  “Cas is an angel.” Jack promptly answers,   “Well, Dean’s guardian angel.”

Dean and alternate Dean exchanges a look this time.  Dean’s eyes narrow as the alternate Dean stares at him and then Castiel.

“Got a problem?”

“You have your own angel?”

“Yeah, it’s my kind of thing.  I’m guessing you don’t?”

“No,” alternate Sam responds while alternate Dean sneaks a look at Castiel,  his eyes full of wonder, “Angels are different, we only work with them when necessary. They get in touch with us when something that concerns civilians is involved.”

“You work for them?” Sam says in disbelief.

“With them.” Alternate Dean continues, glancing over Castiel again, “So maybe we can do this all over again somewhere comfortable with couch and whiskey,  what do you say?” he throws a look at Castiel now,  addressing him like they’ve known each other for years.  “Wanna get me the whiskey, angel?”

Castiel chews his tongue. He glares not only at the alternate Dean but even to his own Dean who’s already frowning at his doppelganger.

“I apologize,  I do not handle Dean’s liquor beverages,  you have to ask permission from him to get one.  And…” blue eyes flash. He makes sure he’s looking straight at the soul of the carbon copy he does not recognize. “I’m a guardian angel, not your servant. I can easily throw you back on the wall so…you will treat me with respect.” he enunciates the words clearly, the way he did when he said it to Dean. He deliberately catches the real Dean’s eyes somehow gets unreadable.

Alternate Dean just breathes,  or wheezes as he steps back.  Satisfied, Castiel pushes Jack out of the room after giving Sam and Dean mutual nods.

They are already in the middle of the corridor when he heard the gushing voice of the alternate Dean trembling in excitement. “Did he just flirt with me?  Did you see how his eyes  just felt so intense on mine?”

“No.” Dean growls.

Castiel doesn’t hear from the Winchester and Winchester for the next twenty minutes.  He knows they are in the War room, he can hear them all the way from the kitchen where he and Jack sit down, listening. Well, Jack is eating the pizzas again, but listening saves him time and effort of asking Sam and Dean later.  Ten minutes of exchange from the Winchesters and he becomes thoughtful.

He doesn’t question the authenticity of the story but it surprised him to find John Winchester was supposed to be in this world as well. He can hear Dean’s heartbeat when he closes his eyes. Shock beyond measure, but nothing to the knowledge that the John Winchester of the other world used all his assets to build a giant corporation. Unlike Dean's father who exhausted all means to seek revenge.

Which is more like Dean, to be honest. Castiel doesn't ponder on the thought of Dean being too much like his father. Dean has moved on it over years ago. Has become the better version of his father.

When they finish, Castiel hears them move to the inner corridors to get a change of clothes. Castiel focuses on Jack then, conversing on the next step after getting the Occultum.

The plan was to be there around nightfall.  They know it��s not the best hour to hunt for an important object, but they cannot delay any longer. Anael has made it clear she is their enemy. Just thinking about how she had Sam and Dean risk their lives makes him want to hunt her just on principle. 

Then again, it can also be just Anael's angel instinct to protect Heaven's artifact. Castiel knows if anyone asked him about it, he would also protect it without question, just like what he did with the tablet. Though, he would likely be trusting Dean more than anyone.

Ten minutes and Jack goes to his own room,  leaving Castiel to follow Dean’s whereabouts.  He can feel Dean's link in the garage with Sam. Their conversation is very personal but he wanted to be there for Dean. He makes his way along the corridor when at the turn, he gasps when he nearly collided with Dean- not his Dean- but a Dean in his Dean's red flannel.

The lazy petting on the fringes of the hair is also telling. This is the Huntercorp Dean.

“Angel,” Dean breathes out, eyes shining in excitement again.

Castiel takes a step back, uncomfortable with their proximity. Gone here was the pattern of Dean jumping away whenever he drops by to visit. He doesn't mind the 'angel', but his auto mode slips an answer distracted by the fact that the red flannel only makes him real.

“My name is Castiel. And you’re wearing Dean’s lumberjack.”

“What, oh this? I know.  Horrible right?”  

Castiel’s expression closes. Huntercorp Dean seems to realize it’s the wrong thing to say. It’s one thing for Cas to comment on Dean’s choice of wardrobe. It’s another when another person makes a mockery of his friend’s casual dress he’s grown fond of no matter his previous jives.

“You will only wear it after a couple of hours.  Once we return,  I will personally retrieve it from your possession.”

Huntercorp Dean flushes. It's a kind of his Dean’s embarrassed look when he gets discovered about his porn and preference to adorable rabbits.

He gets distracted by how this Dean keeps swallowing every time their eyes make contact,  even steps closer on purpose. He doesn’t know what to make of that.  His first meeting with his Dean back in hell was violent. It doesn’t change when they first laid eyes on each other’s physical form.

And this reminded Castiel again,  this is not his Dean.

Huntercorp looks him up and down looking giddy,  cheeks flushing with green eyes almost glassy Castiel can see his own image reflected on them.

“That’s so cool,  angel Castiel? Hebrew for the angel of Thursday,  huh? I know all the names of angels back home,  I’ve got a good memory and I learn fast. My dad used to praise me,  y’know. Best hunter he’s seen since his days.”

Castiel doesn’t mention how he heard the story. The surprise timber of the voice of his friends upon the discovery of Hunter Corp and John Winchester being a perfect father. Perhaps a little too much of a perfectionist.

“So uh…” Hunter Corp Dean looks down his feet looking sheepish,  “I’d know immediately who you are,  except there’s no Castiel in my world.  I don’t have a Castiel back there. Why don’t I have a guardian angel?” he asks like the typical child looking for his Christmas present.  With a pout.

“I have no idea, but I need to be somewhere so if you can move aside,  I need to be on my way.” he makes to slip pass hunter corp Dean but like his original born from the training of one John Winchester, his reflexes are commendable. He grabs Cas' arm,  then let's go like he's burnt when the angel glares at the touch.

“I’m sorry, Castiel, s-stop getting mad." he looks strangely tensed, like a younger version of Dean some ten years ago. "I uh, I don't want you made at me, okay?

Clearly the opposite of Dean's younger version who's done nothing but to piss him and push him to the edge. That Dean now who happens to belong to him now. Dean has always belonged to him from the beginning. He claimed Dean. .His Dean

This stranger is never his. Not for him to claim. He does wonder what happened to his own version unable to meet Dean Winchester. May still be the upright angel that he is... what pity... and to those Deans who also have not met him? Well, this one appears to be okay. A little shallow, but... okay.

Huntercorps Dean swallows. "Uh...about what happened back there…sorry. I got the wrong impression when he said you’re his guardian angel.”

“Apparently.” Apologizing not an hour after the first meeting? Castiel smiles remembering Dean's snarky attitude towards his own version, but it might be because of the old stick up his ass.

Huntercorp Dean sighs at the smile not meant for him. His shoulders lose an amount of tension, “So uh… are we okay now? Are you still mad at me? Are angels really supposed to get mad? Back in my universe they just come and go,  reporting orders from the attic, you know? So um…  are you, you know…  mad?”

“I’m not mad at you. But I am in a hurry,  so if this is what you need to apologize about, I sincerely accept it. Now I have to go to the weaponry room and you’re still on my way.” He points out drily. Hunter corp Dean snaps from the trance of ogling at Castiel.

“Oh. Uh…  sure, I’ll go with you.” 

It wasn’t exactly an invitation but Castiel has no reason to stop him. Now he has to change his route.

The Dean moves aside, making Castiel glare a little as he walks past him. The Dean follows him shortly,  steps lighter than the original. That eases Castiel.  At least he can hear and understand the difference.  He leads him down the narrow corridor,  his attention drifting to Dean back in the garage. He has to shut his eyes again when for the third time,  he hears Hunter corp Dean clear his throat.

“Yes?” he looks sideways for a second.

“So uh…  Dean kinda lucked out on everything else except for you,  huh? I mean,  I get it, I respect his trade.  The guy does charity work saving people on this side and he has an exclusive…  somewhat top-secret venue for the operation.  So he doesn’t get paid and he’s got issues with his dad from our conversation a little while ago-”

He lets hunter corp Dean talk. His Dean likes to talk about the most mundane thing,  but rarely about his father. This is not his Dean.

Stopping at the door, Huntercorp Dean goes on with the ramble until he clamps his mouth at the angel’s glare.

“Stay here.”

“Aw,  c’mon Castiel. We’re a team now,  you know? I got Dean’s layers of thin material for clothes, I’m not going to betray my own face.”

“You’re not him.”

“I am pretending to be him,  can’t you think of me as your extended charge too?  I’m also Dean Winchester.”

“No.” Castiel says without a hitch. It’s the calmest “no” he’s said for the day,  this morning’s encounter with Dean and his golden theories about pirates topping his chart of “no,  Deans.”

“Ow,  you hurt my feelings,  Castiel.’

Castiel narrows his eyes. "How? You and I have nothing. Dean and I have a more profound bond.” He was not supposed to say it,  but it makes him proud to do so anyway. A full second of Hunter corp Dean just blinking at him in surprise. He even looks like he swallowed a bullfrog.

“P-profound bond you mean…?”

"I chose Dean and he chose me. We're together." he feels tired more than he should about the subject.

"Really?” his eyes dilate. "Like you too really do things... and you know things?! Him and an angel?

Castiel grimaces. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.” Turning the knob, he enters, but not after the gasp that was so his Dean when he watches Doctor Sexy.

Hunter corp Dean follows him to the table where Castiel rolls the rifle on both palms. This Dean shifts on his feet like an impatient cat ready to pounce.  He can’t help reading him from how Dean does his nonverbals, but he’s an expert when it comes to Dean Winchester.

He squints a little,  unable to read this though, or perhaps it’s his own uncertainty that is frustrating him. He tries to pacify the little annoyance blossoming entirely out of nowhere and for unknown reasons in his being.  This Dean has done nothing to him. Why is he averse to the man who only looked like his friend?  Is it because they don’t have the bond?  Or because he is a complete stranger to him as the next newborn baby prophet he knows by name?

“So you guys have that kind of relationship, huh?”

“It’s a special kind.” He admits kindly.

“Ah…  that’s why he looked about to eat me every time I mention you.  I mean, I get it.  You kinda struck me the first time I laid eyes on you too. Kinda makes me jealous he’s got a special someone out there. It’s not so bad even without my usual glamour.”Castiel checks the bullets quietly.

“That looks dangerous.” Dean says,  “Your mission that dangerous even an angel needs a shotgun?”

“I don’t. I have my angel blade. This is for Dean. He’s distracted enough to just remember his handgun.  I’m making sure he doesn’t run out of full barrel count.”

“You do that for him?  I thought you said you’re not a servant?”

Castiel clamps the barrel in one snap,  then eyes this Dean coldly.

“I am not his servant.  I am his best friend and I do this on my own accord.”

“Does your Dean clean your angel blade too?”

“He has his own angel blade,  he doesn’t need to clean mine.”

“Do you do whatever he asks?” comes the uncertain question with a hard swallow.

“Of course.  Unless it is stupid, that’s when I take control.”

This Dean openly gawks at him now like he couldn’t believe his ears. Castiel locks the safety pin and tries it to make sure it’s clasped properly. He will bring extra rounds too,  for safety precaution.

Eyes bore on him.  The green eyes now slowly becoming familiar. Huntercorp Dean shakes his head.

“Oh man,  if he doesn't come back someday,  you’re free to call me anytime.”

Castiel slams the bullet back on the table so fast everything seems to spin. His quick hand snatches the red collar and in one twist he and huntercorp Dean are eye to eye with a hair strand difference.

"We're not talking about this." He hisses, voice laced with iciness. “You are not going to speak about Dean like that again.” Green eyes remain round, a flash of fear and shock battling on his expression.

"”Okay chill, Castiel,  I was just joking!

“Keep the irony to yourself.” Castiel’s jaw clenches. 

“I get it, alright! ” Hunter corp Dean touches his wrist, “I’m sorry,  it was just on the spur of the moment-I dunno, I was jealous okay? I thought you’d like me too,  you brought me alone in a room!  Now, I get it,  you want him. Not me. It’s capisce!”

“You capisce?” Castiel tilts his head in question.

“Yeah,  I capisce. Please let go.  I kinda like you, okay?”

Castiel sees a shadow from the corner of his eyes he sharply looks up to find Dean standing by the door with a box on his arms.  Castiel’s grip slackens. His Dean looks surprised for a few seconds, turn to controlled rage where his enemies should start running until everything disappears to nothing.

“Dean.” Castiel starts.

“Everything alright here? Cas?” Dean asks stiffly, putting the box down the floor and keeping his murderous eyes on Hunter corp Dean who flinches at the hard stare.

“We uh…  we were preparing your shotgun for uh… the mission and uh…” he says lamely.

Dean steps closer,  his broad body blocking the way of escape, eyebrows hiking up.

“You don’t need to feel like you need to defend yourself here in the Bunker.  It’s the safest place on earth.”

Huntercorp Dean forces a smile.

“Somehow,  I doubt that.” He gulps when Dean doesn’t stop staring.  “You always look at the guy you asked for a favor like you’re about to skin him alive?”

“Maybe.” Dean crosses his arms and shrugs. “But I don’t do favors. Your brother’s looking for you.  My Sam wants to pull the man bun,  you ought to be there for support.”

“Believe me,  I’d gladly pull the bun too.”

Dean smiles an empty one that turns into a scowl. “Now can I get back my angel?

Castiel who feels neglected for not being shown any attention gazes at Dean wide eyed and red. Huntercorp Dean sighs like he knows he just escaped death and so glad to be alive.

“See yah. You too, Castiel. And you guys can take it slow here, yeah? I’ll make sure the Sams behave too!” he winks at Dean whose face crumples in confusion. They waited for him to disappear before their eyes bore at each other. 

“I knew you were gonna sneak around.” Dean teases him, taking the box from the floor and heaving it up.  He finds Castiel with his deadpan expression already standing before him with only the box between them.

“I don’t sneak around Dean.”

“Yeah?  Getting that sexy ass here alone with you isn’t, huh?” he steps aside to put the box on a higher shelf. Castiel pulls it from his hands and easily lifts it at the top pile before rounding on Dean,  finally getting his whole attention.

“You call yourself sexy?” he asks in disbelief.

“Eyes on the beholder, remember? Same. Reaction when I saw my future self back in 2014. I was hot as fuck, your old self there would’ve agreed.”

“What was I like there?  You never told me.”

Dean opens his mouth,  then stops. There’s a brief look of worry on his face but then-

“What were you thinking holing up with him here? No one ever told you how dangerous it is to be with a hot Dean Winchester in a room with four walls and only one way out?” He licks his lips, gazing down the angel’s plump ones. Castiel smiles.

“I agree.  I do feel in danger now.”

Dean laughs out loud,  his arms falling on his side with his stony features disappearing. Castiel sighs in relief, glad there wasn’t any breaking or fight between them this time. Not when they’re about to do something dangerous under Chuck’s nose.

“Just don’t put yourself in danger like this again.” Dean sounds like he’s scolding him with that finger pointing up. He doesn’t look strained at all which could only mean one thing.

Dean trusts him.

Unable to control his emotions, Castiel reaches his right palm behind Dean’s neck, then drags the man’s head down close to his and kisses him gently. Dean’s lips are always moist,  always soft maybe because of Dean’s habit of always biting them temptingly.  

Castiel moans when Dean draws him closer, hands going around his waist. Running his palms on each aide of the angel,  Dean pulls back little, green eyes as expressive as ever.

The very eyes Castiel fought for so many years.

“We have an Occultum to catch,  Cas.  Stop being so distracting,  what’s gotten in to you?  I thought angels always prioritize mission?” he nudges his nose on the angels.

“I am. Doing prioritizing.” Castiel follows Dean’s lips with his eyes then dips in for a brush on the pair of red. “I made it a goal to kiss you when I see you ever since we let them out of the wall.”

“Why?” Dean sounds concerned again,  which Castiel loves about him as long as it doesn’t bite on his every risky decision. Then again,  when has Dean ever done anything he asks too?

“I'm not sure. I just want to make sure I don’t lose the way you look at me. The way you take care of me… the way you make me feel like this…”

Dean smiles and presses a kiss on his forehead. 

“Didn’t you see how my love reaches to an alternate self of mine?  Didn’t you see how he’s very smitten with you?”

“Yes,  but he’s not you.  It doesn’t matter how many alternate Deans you have, they won’t have what we have.”

“Lemme guess, our profound bond?”

“My heart.”Castiel grabs Dean and kisses him thoroughly.

Dean lets him take control,  leaving his lips into submission as Castiel ravishes his mouth. Castiel kisses his open mouth, letting his tongue roll in and out,  taking its time exploring the insides of Dean he knows too well. He meets the tongue, earning him a moan when he starts to gently suck-but then he stops.

He looks into Dean’s flushed face, so happy to know he is the reason. They mutually nod to end it there even when their hips don’t stop grinding at each other,  arms still wrapped behind each other’s back. Dean is speechless for a while.  He keeps his eyes on Castiel.

"How did I get lucky to get you, Cas? Because I’m still not convinced I deserve-”

Gentle forefinger presses on the wet lips. Castiel had a hard time removing his eyes from there.

“Shh. You don't need good fortune to be with me, Dean. We just need to be together.”

“Dean!” Sam calls from the corridor. “Dammit,  you guys better be decent there!”

“Shut up! We’re gonna be back in a second!”

“I’m counting! You know we have a treasure to find!”

“Yeah yeah!” Dean whirls to Castiel again,  eyes determined. “We all come back here tonight you and me in my room?”

Castiel’s heart pummels up.  This is the part he and Dean haven’t explored yet.  He touches Dean’s cheek lightly and nods willingly.

“Oh. I can show you just how lucky you are.”

Dean suddenly chortles nervously.

“Damn… this feels like we're doing honeymoon before the marriage.”

“Because you never ask, Dean.”

“Not like we have a place to tie our knots appearing right before our eyes.”

Hours later there is the church. Dean and Cas stare at each other,  makes out a little while Sam groans by the door, then find themselves horrified at finding Jack choking with hands on his throat.

The Nephilim had swallowed the Occultum.

They recover Jack after a good five minutes with that bright ball of light. The boy was silent a lot the whole ride home. Castiel and Dean communicate silently from the rearview mirror, Dean asking if Jack is okay. Castiel nods, having checked the boy whose body stay healthy and strong.

And that’s what matters to Dean. Jack is healthy even when he looks morose. Another hour passes and the new informally wedded husbands just get the biggest surprise of their lives.

Jack has recovered his soul. 

#supernaturalpromptchallenge #destiel ficlet #destiel coda #spn15 #spnprompt #castiel x dean winchester #casdean #ficlet destiel #tooth rotting fluff

[ochibuogwu5]

JESUS CHRIST CRUCIFIED ON THE CROSS OF CALVARY IS THE ONLY MEANS OF HUMAN SALVATION IN THIS ENTIRE UNIVERSE

JESUS CHRIST CRUCIFIED ON THE CROSS OF CALVARY AS THE ATONEMENT OF HUMAN SIN SI THE ONLY MEANS OF HUMAN SALVATION:

Jesus Christ Crucified on the Cross of Calvary *as the atonement for human sin/flesh* Is The Only Connection/Mediator between Human Being & God; The Creator of all human beings and the Universe!!!

  "For there [is only] one God, and [only] one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, Who gave Himself as a ransom for all [people, a fact that was] attested to at the right and proper time." (1 Timothy 2:5-6 ampc)

  "Jesus said to him, I am the Way and the Truth and the Life; no one comes to the Father except by (through) Me." (John 14:6 ampc)

  While every other religion/ideology/philosophy/channel/method leads to eternal death(hell-fire)

  This is not a human ideology/judgement/decision/philosophy/pronouncement but the judgement of God thus

"While he was still speaking, behold, a shining cloud [composed of light] overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, This is My Son, My Beloved, with Whom I am [and have always been] delighted. Listen(follow/obey) to Him!" (Matthew 17:5 ampc)

  "But as it concerns the Son, He(God the Father) says to Him, *Your throne, O God, is forever and ever (to the ages of the ages), and the scepter of Your kingdom is a scepter of absolute righteousness* (of justice and straightforwardness).

 9. You have loved righteousness [You have delighted in integrity, virtue, and uprightness in purpose, thought, and action] and You have hated lawlessness (injustice and iniquity). Therefore *God, [even] Your God (Godhead)*, has *anointed You with the oil of exultant joy and gladness above and beyond Your companions.*

 10 And [further], *You, Lord, did lay the foundation of the earth in the beginning, and the heavens are the works of Your hands.*

 11 They will perish, but You remain and continue permanently; they will all grow old and wear out like a garment.

 12 Like a mantle [thrown about one’s self] You will roll them up, and they will be changed and replaced by others. But You remain the same, and Your years will never end nor come to failure.

 13 Besides, to which of the angels has He ever said, Sit at My right hand [associated with Me in My royal dignity] till I make your enemies a stool for your feet?

 14 Are not the angels all ministering spirits (servants) sent out in the service [of God for the assistance] of those who are to inherit salvation?" (Hebrews 1:8-14 ampc)

  Then Peter who was an eye-witness when God the Father pronounced this eternal choice, decision and judgement of HIS re-affirmed this judgment and decision of the Father thus

 "For we were not following cleverly devised stories when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ (the Messiah), but we were eyewitnesses of His majesty (grandeur, authority of sovereign power).

 17 For when He was invested with honor and glory from God the Father and a voice was borne to Him by the [splendid] Majestic Glory [in the bright cloud that overshadowed Him, saying], This is My beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased and delight,

 18 We [actually] heard this voice borne out of heaven, for we were together with Him on the holy mountain" (2 Peter 1:16-18 ampc)

  Repent from sin/unbelief/any other channel or religion/philosophy that you are using as a means to get access to the God who created all human being and this universe; then surrender your life inside the crucified life of Jesus Christ on the Cross of Calvary so that He can replace that old-life/nature/flesh you inherited from Adam's disobedience WITH HIS NEW CREATION LIFE RELEASED ON THE CROSS AFTER HE SAID "IT IS FINISHED" (John 19:30)

  It is this NEW CREATION LIFE ALONE that can begin to live a consistent and progressive holy, pure, pleasing and acceptable lifestyle to GOD THE FATHER, fresh every second on this earthly sojourn till eternity by faith (every second; we agree afresh in our hearts/mind/mouth that our old-life died with Jesus on the Cross permanently and became replaced by the COMPLETE NEW LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST which He used to live on this earth from conception till ascension without sin/disobedience to the perfect-will of His Father hence this SAME LIFE is now living through our mortal-bodies in every/any sector/phase/circumstance of this earthly living that we are currently engaging by the Power of His Holy Spirit)

thus

 "For God took the sinless Christ and poured into him our sins. Then, in exchange, He poured God’s goodness(ETERNAL LIFE) into us!" (2 Corinthians 5:21 TLB)

 therefore anybody who has believed that this *exchange on Calvary happened in his/her own life will boldly declare every second of his/her earthly life both in deeds, words, actions, decisions and lifestyle whether privately or publicly thus

 "For I(put your full-name here) through the Law [under the operation of the curse of the Law] have [in Christ’s death for me] myself died to the Law and all the Law’s demands upon me, so that I may [henceforth] live to and for God.

 20 I(put your full-name here) have been crucified with Christ [in Him I have shared His crucifixion]; it is no longer I who live, but Christ (the Messiah) lives in me; and the life I now live in the body I live by faith in (by adherence to and reliance on and complete trust in) the Son of God, Who loved me and gave Himself up for me.

 21 [Therefore, I do not treat God’s gracious gift as something of minor importance and defeat its very purpose]; I do not set aside and invalidate and frustrate and nullify the grace (unmerited favor/ETERNAL LIFE) of God. For if justification (righteousness, acquittal from guilt) comes through [observing the ritual of] the Law, then Christ (the Messiah) died groundlessly and to no purpose and in vain. [His death was then wholly superfluous.]"

(Galatians 2:19-21 ampc)

  AND understanding the VALUE OF THIS EXCHANGE ON THE CROSS OF CALVARY FURTHER will always manifest this lifestyle in deeds and words thus

"But far be it from me to glory [in anything or anyone] except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ (the Messiah) through Whom the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world!"

(Galatians 6:14 ampc)

  " *From now on* let no person trouble me [by making it necessary for me to vindicate my apostolic authority and the divine truth of my Gospel], for *I bear on my body the [brand] marks of the Lord Jesus* [the wounds, scars, and other outward evidence of persecutions—these testify to His ownership of me]!"

(Galatians 6:17 ampc)

  This is why Jesus defined our every second agreement with our position inside His Crucified body on the Cross even after being born-again as the only means of being His genuine disciple/follower thus

"And He said to all, If any person wills to come after Me, let him deny himself [disown himself, forget, lose sight of himself and his own interests, refuse and give up himself] and *take up his cross daily and follow Me* [cleave steadfastly to Me, conform wholly to My example in living and, if need be, in dying also].

 24 For whoever would preserve his life and save it will lose and destroy it, but whoever loses his life for My sake, he will preserve and save it [from the penalty of eternal death]."

(Luke 9:23-24 ampc)

  NOTE:

Unless a human being *sees/accepts within his/her mindset/heart that he/she died with Jesus on the Cross of Calvary when Jesus was crucified about 2021 years ago*; such a person *cannot receive or manifest this New Creation Lifestyle*; no matter how many *sinners prayers that you say when you encounter a new preacher* or fasting and prayers that you engage or family-cleansing/deliverance that all the prayer-warriors in this universe can conduct in your family or how many hands of anointed men/women of God that were laid upon you or theological studies that you have/undergo or religious titles/activities that you engage e.t.c.

 You will still be *struggling with sin because the flesh; who is the producer of any type of sinful-products (lies, fornication, anger, fear-of-death, bitterness, jealousy, greed e.t.c.) has not *been uprooted and replaced*

  The only remedy for uprooting this producer(the flesh) which we inherited from Adam's disobedience not because of any sin that we committed by ourselves is *death with Jesus on the Cross of Calvary* and it is not biological death or wearing a crucifix/cross but by *a consistent heart to heart agreement of seeing yourself dead with Jesus on the Cross and replaced with His New Life of Resurrection* just as it is only those children of Israel who *gazed consistently upon the molded bronze serpent were healed while those who were trying to kill the snakes that bite them or heal themselves with their own medicine/logic died in the wilderness* thus

"And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert [on a pole], so must [so it is necessary that] the Son of Man be lifted up [on the cross],

 15 In order that everyone who believes in Him [who cleaves to Him, trusts Him, and relies on Him] may not perish, but have eternal life and [actually] live forever!" (John 3:14-15 ampc)

 MANIFESTING LIKE JESUS CHRIST WHILE ON EARTH:

what do we need to do in order to manifest the *power that Jesus expressed while on earth* since He now lives through our mortal bodies ?

 Just remain conformed(agree within your mind, free-will, emotions, heart, mouth, deeds, thoughts, decisions and actions) to your personal death with Jesus on the Cross of Calvary by faith (whether physical, mental and spiritual engagements in a deliberate daily study of the Holy Bible to see how Jesus handled all the issues of life both in the old and new testament as well as prayers) then the Power of His Resurrection(the Holy Spirit Power and lifestyle; fruits, gifts and services) will flow through your mortal-body effortlessly and endlessly thus

"That I may *know him*, and the *power of his resurrection*, and the *fellowship of his sufferings*, being *made conformable unto his death*;" (Philippians 3:10 KJV)

 AND

 " *Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus*, that the *life also of Jesus* might be *made manifest in our body* ". (2 Corinthians 4:10 KJV)

Abbah Father, your word declared that no human being can come to Jesus Christ You Son unless You draw him/her to Jesus by the outpouring of your Holy Spirit revelation hence we implore You to reveal the reality of Jesus death on the Cross and His resurrection upon all human being in this our generation much more than we can write, think, pray or imagine in Jesus name. Amen.

[a-mandala-rose]

Angry, Angry, Angry, Pie

Words:  1474

Summary:  After overhearing a conversation between Sam and Cas, Dean Winchester talks about his feelings... kind of.

“Hey, Cas.  Why the long face?”

Blue eyes squint in confusion as the angel touches a tentative hand to his own cheek. 

Sam smiles.  Even after all these years, his friend can still be so literal at times.

“What’s wrong?”  he clarifies.

Cas’ eyes widen briefly in understanding before the despondent look that prompted Sam’s question in the first place finds its way back onto his features.

“I believe Dean’s angry with me again.  I’m not precisely sure what I did wrong this time, but I must have done something.”  Cas pauses.  “It seems like he’s always angry with me.”

Sam frowns.  He’s not sure what the hell is up his brother’s emotionally repressed ass this time, but he is certain that whatever it is isn’t Cas’ fault.

Sighing, he readies himself to clean-up the emotional fallout of Dean’s poor coping skills.  Again.

“Look, Cas, what you have to understand about Dean is that sometimes when he’s angry, he’s not really angry.”

Cas looks more confused by this than by the “long face” question.

“I’m an Angel of the Lord, Sam.  ‘Holy wrath’ is something of a specialty of ours.   I am more than capable of recognizing anger when I see it.”

“No, what I mean is…” Sam hesitates and looks up at the ceiling, thinking of how to best explain the complex emotional tapestry that is Dean Winchester.  “Sometimes when Dean acts, and looks, and sounds angry, he’s actually feeling something else.” 

Another pause.

Another round of confused angelic squinting.

“Okay, so there are four basic emotions, right?  Anger, fear, sorrow, and joy.  Most people express those emotions in very different ways.  But Dean…  not so much.”  Sam takes a seat on the table next to where Cas is seated in one of the sturdy library chairs and leans forward, starting to warm to his subject.  After all, he’s spent his entire life studying his older brother and Cas is a singularly captivated audience when it comes to all things Dean.  “For Dean, there’s the angry that means he’s angry, the angry that means he’s scared or worried about you, the angry that means he’s sad… And then there’s pie.”  He sits back in his chair, quietly satisfied with his analogy.

Cas stares at him a moment before saying slowly, “So… you’re saying that Dean’s four emotional states are angry, angry, angry… and pie?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“That makes… a surprising amount of sense.”

“Really?”  Sam’s eyebrows raise in surprise.  Understanding straightforward emotions was a struggle for Cas at one time.  Emotions masked as other emotions?  He hadn’t expected the angel to catch on so quickly.

Castiel nods, angelic countenance thoughtful.

“Human emotions can be… overwhelming.  When I first began experiencing them, I sometimes felt like I was going to explode from the sheer force of what I was feeling.”  Castiel stares at a spot above Sam’s shoulder, clearly picturing something in his mind.  “Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man, Sam.  True righteousness cannot exist devoid of emotion.  There have been many men who could have been considered righteous based on the logic of their actions and yet, while benefiting the masses, those actions bestowed horrors upon a select few.”

“The ends don’t always justify the means and the needs of the many don’t always outweigh the needs of the few.  Right,” Sam agrees while scrunching his forehead in confusion.  He’s not quite seeing how this ties back to his brother acting like an asshole caveman.

Cas’ eyes find his again. 

“What constitutes ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ in terms of human conscience is shaped by the values and customs of a particular society.  It changes over time.  Righteousness is universal.  It’s rooted in the empathy that exists between all souls.  A soul as bright, as righteous, as Dean’s must be anchored deeply in emotion, consumed by it even.  To feel things so deeply, far more deeply than other humans… perhaps that explains why Dean constantly appears on the verge of exploding.”

Sam blinks.

“You got that from ‘angry, angry, angry, pie?’”

“Yes.  Thank you, Sam.  Our talk was very enlightening.”

Still feeling a little lost, Sam runs a hand through his hair and shrugs.

“Uh, sure.  Glad I could help, I guess.”

He pretends not to notice Dean listening from the doorway.

~***~

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Hearing his brother and Cas in the library, Sam continues his trek toward the stairs without saying hello, hoping to squeeze in a run before dinner.  His steps slow, however, and take him back toward the library door when he hears Castiel’s next words.

“Are you finished being… angry with me?  I apologize if I unintentionally did something to upset you.”

“What?  I wasn’t ‘angry with you!’” Dean barks out sharply.

From where he’s standing next to the doorway, he can just make out Castiel’s eyebrow arching in challenge at Dean’s tone. 

He probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but since Sam’s the one that’ll undoubtedly be cleaning up Dean’s mess if he screws things up with Cas (again), he feels justified.  It’s not spying.  It’s completely reasonable and defensible reconnaissance.  Commendable even. 

“I wasn’t angry with you,” Dean repeats in a softer tone, before slumping into the chair across from Cas and ducking his head to catch the angel’s eyes with his own.  “Look, just because I’m angry, don’t mean I’m angry at you,” he explains before adding hurriedly, a finger jabbing toward the angel, “Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I really am pissed at you.  You’ve done some really stupid shit, man.  We both have.”

Cas nods in silent agreement.

“But most of the time,” Dean leans back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair, “I’m just angry about you.”

“About me?”  Cas asks quizzically, tilting his head in classic Cas confusion.

“Yeah.  Like, angry about you not being here.  Or angry about you getting yourself killed.  Again.” Dean rolls his eyes.  “Or angry about you thinking you can handle shit on your own, instead of coming to me and Sam.  Angry about you thinking that you have to handle shit on your own.”

“But none of that is you being angry at me,” Cas says doubtfully.

“Nah, not really.”

Dean taps his thumb nervously on the arm rest of the wooden library chair, his entire body radiating anxious energy.

“Dean?”  Cas asks, shooting a pointed look at Dean’s fidgeting fingers.

“I uh, heard you talkin’ to Sam earlier,” Dean blurts out, “about my feelings or whatever.”

“About the way you express emotions?” Cas clarifies with raised eyebrows. 

“Yeah.  That.”  Sam rolls his eyes.  Turns out the only thing more painful than talking to Dean about his feelings is listening to him talk about his feelings with someone else.

“And?”

“And he ain’t exactly wrong.”

“So, you’re saying that earlier today, you weren’t angry angry?”

“Right.”

“So, which angry were you?”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know.  One of the other ones.  Just pick one.”

“So you were s-,” Dean shoots a warning glare at Cas, who quickly amends, “one of the other types of angry, but not angry angry, about me, but not at me?”

“Exactly,” Dean grins and leans back in his chair, fingers laced across his stomach.

“Okay.  Thank you for telling me… that.”

“No problem.”  Dean clears his throat.  “So, uh, that stuff you said.  You know, the soul stuff.  Was any of that true?”

“I believe it all to be true, Dean.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Dean swallows and looks down at the table before finding Cas’ eyes again.  “Doesn’t give me the right to take it out on you though.  Doesn’t give me the right to be an asshole.  You gotta call me on that shit, man.  Don’t just take it.”

“I appreciate you saying so.  The next you seem angry with me for no apparent reason, I’ll try to remember to ‘call you on your shit.’” 

Sam grins as he watches Cas make air quotes around the end of his sentence.  He can’t see Dean’s eyes, but he does see Dean’s entire head move with what he’s sure is a very affectionate eye roll.

“Yeah, you do that.”  He stands, hands stuffed in his pockets awkwardly.  “So, we good?  You don’t still think I’m mad at you all the time?”  he doublechecks, taking a few backward steps toward the door.

“I… no, Dean.  I no longer think you’re angry at me all of the time,” Cas says, looking as bemused as Sam had felt after their earlier conversation.

“Good,” Dean says, “That’s good.  Because, Cas?  Just so you know, the way I… the way you make me feel?”

Dean pauses.  Takes a breath. 

“You’re pie.”

The last thing Sam sees before he makes a hasty retreat are the corners of Cas’ mouth ticking up in a smile that, while small now, looks like it’s on verge of exploding.

#mandalawrites #shortfic