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magnetothemagnificent · 2 years

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[id: digital drawing of two parallel scenes from Good Omens. On the right side of the drawing is the graveyard scene, when Hastur has Crowley sign off on taking the baby Antichrist. On the left side of the drawing is the scene where Aziraphale signs off on the deliveryman taking away the three items from the Apocalypse. There is a dark sky. On the graveyard side there is short grass and three scattered grave markers. Crowley is standing to the right most and facing Hastur, who is holding out a paper on a clipboard to him in his left hand. Crowley is a pale grey-skinned man with wavy black hair, yellow reptilian eyes, with red and black scales on his skin. His hair is styled in waves with prominent sideburns, in the popular 1970s style. He is wearing a deep purple-black blazer over a bright red button-down shirt, a dark gold belt, and purple-black trousers, and he is wearing gold-framed sunglasses. He is clutching a silver pen in his left hand and looking up at Hastur fearfully. Hastur is a tall, skinny man with sallow green skin, piercing green reptilian eyes, dark hair sweeped back, and green scales scattered on his skin. He is wearing an olive green raincoat over a black turtleneck shirt and dark brown trousers, and black boots with off-white spats. He is frowning menacingly at Crowley. On the ground between them is a closed whicker carrycot. On the other side of the drawing is tarmac on which Aziraphale and the deliveryman are standing. Aziraphale is standing to the leftmost and facing the delivery man, who is holding out a paper on a clipboard to him in his left hand. Aziraphale is a fat, elderly Southwest Asian man with warm brown skin and curly white-grey hair. He is wearing a tan coat with a black fur collar over light brown trousers, a light brown cable-knit jumper over a light pink button-down shirt slightly unbuttoned. He is wearing dark brown dress shoes and small silver hoop earrings. He is looking questioningly at the deliveryman. He is holding out his right hand. The deliveryman is a tall, medium built white man with brown hair and green eyes and a spatter of freckles. He is smiling politely at Aziraphale. He is wearing an orange high-visibility jacket over a light blue button-down shirt and light-brown shorts. He is wearing dark brown boots over white socks, and a navy-blue cap. In his right arm he is holding a long rectangular cardboard box. ]

Hastur produced a clipboard from the grubby recesses of his mack.

"Sign. Here," he said, leaving a terrible pause between the words.

Crowley fumbled vaguely in an inside pocket and produced a pen. It was sleek and matte black. It looked as though it could exceed the speed limit.

"S'nice pen," said Ligur.

"It can write under water," Crowley muttered.

"Whatever will they think of next?" mused Ligur.

"Whatever it is, they'd better think of it quickly," said Hastur. "No. Not A. J. Crowley. Your real name."

Crowley nodded mournfully, and drew a complex, wiggly sigh on the paper. It glowed redly in the gloom, just for a moment, and then faded.

***

The van driver, who wore an International Express cap, said not to mention it, and really it was a godsend them both being there like this, since someone was going to have to sign to say that he'd duly collected what he'd been sent for, and this had certainly been a day to remember, eh?

Aziraphale and Crowley both agreed with him that it had, and Aziraphale signed the clipboard that the van driver gave him, witnessing that a crown, a pair of balances, and a sword had been received in good order and were to be delivered to a smudged address and charged to a blurred account number.

The parallels of Crowley signing his name to start the Apocalypse and Aziraphale signing his name to end it....

#goodomens #book omens #book aziraphale #book crowley #ineffable lovers #hastur #the delivery man #my art #digital art

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orionsangel86 · 4 years

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Hey Everyone,

As you have probably noticed, I have neglected this blog for a long time now. I haven’t been on any fandom related social media at all actually. But I figured since I am currently in a good mindset, I want to write a post just outlining some things which basically boils down to a goodbye letter to Supernatural fandom.

Long rambling post below the cut...

This year (and the last) has just taken it out of me in terms of general negativity online both in fandom and in the real world. At first I got tired of fandom (mostly because Twitter is a cesspool of policing and bullying) and then I got tired of everything else (the world sucks right now, and my mental health basically stopped me from being able to participate in any form of online activism – just because I’m not blogging about something, doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause ya know?). Earlier this year, right around the time of the UK lockdowns, I had surgery and a recovery period in which I spent a lot of time with family, and just reacquainted myself with the real world. I think perhaps the coronavirus pandemic made me realise that long before lockdown began I had already been isolating myself from my real life and diving further and further into an online black hole.

It was years in the making. Supernatural fandom preoccupied my thoughts for such a long period of time it got to the point where every moment of my non working time seemed to be spent either online scrolling my tumblr dash or twitter feed, or reading fanfic or doing something fandom related. I invested so much of myself into this show and fandom that I think I forgot who I was before I was a Supernatural fan completely.

After my wake up call in late 2019, which lead me to break free from an extremely nasty clique, I have tried to re-enter fandom on my own terms, as well as attempt to enjoy the source material and the fandom creations to ignite some new spark of love and interest in the show. Yet as much as I have tried, I have failed to do so.

I was thinking recently about someone I used to follow years ago before I ever created a blog. When I was still just lurking in the tumblr shadows and followed the likes of Mittens, Lizbob, and other meta writers of the period, there was a blogger whose name I can’t remember but she was the funniest blogger I had come across. But when the show killed off Charlie Bradbury, she quit. I had never even interacted with her, as I was barely getting my blog started at the time, but I’ll never forget a post she wrote about her feelings on the show. She had recently started watching something else (I think it was Sense8 but can’t recall entirely), and that this new show had given her everything she had never thought she could have from her fave before. She wrote about how her relationship with Supernatural had become abusive. That for years the writers of Supernatural continued to throw punches at fans like her – women, LGBTQ+ people, people of colour, and yet she continued to give it all her time and attention, brushing off the punches because she was so damn devoted to the characters. Then this new show had come along, and it was like she had seen the light. The killing of Charlie Bradbury was the last straw, and she dumped Supernatural’s ass and fled into the arms of her new love.

I hope she is doing fantastically today.

What she wrote has resonated with me for years. I was a fairly new Supernatural fan at the time, and therefore didn’t really understand what she meant. A TV show can’t be abusive. Can it?

Of course, we are speaking in metaphor here, and in no way are these metaphors meant to reduce or limit the truly serious situation of actual abusive relationships, but every now and then, when a new episode of Supernatural has left me feeling upset, disappointed, frustrated and grossly let down, in some cases affecting my mood for days at a time, and therefore my mental health. I have thought back to those words she wrote and quietly agreed with them in my head. Yes. This is a metaphorically abusive relationship.

When I discovered earlier this year that Castiel was most likely going to be killed off in some sort of bullshit self sacrifice before the end of the show, I was extremely distressed. When I found out that my favourite person of all time Misha Collins, supported this ending for Castiel, and may have even been the one who pushed for it, I was more than distressed, I felt betrayed by the person I cared about most. I’ll admit to you all now that in my weakest moments I have fantasized about standing in front of Misha and screaming at him exactly just what kind of affect his “ideal ending” for Castiel will have on his fanbase, on their mental health, and potentially their own safety. This fantasy has me guilt tripping him and doing everything in my power to make him feel utterly shit about the decision. I know what you are thinking – don’t blame Misha, the guy has his own problems and we all know he projects his own self esteem issues onto Cas – and yes, I know this, like I said its only a fantasy to get me through my darkest moments. I don’t hate Misha at all. But perhaps I do love him a little less nowadays than I did back at the height of my fandom life. That’s at least still a little bit more than my feelings for Jensen and Jared which now I can only describe as complete indifference.

I am admitting all of this now knowing full well it will ignite shock and anger among the more die hard fans of J2M, to explain why I need to just leave this fandom completely, or more accurately, why I have already left fandom.

Over the past 10 months of 2020, I have watched a lot of TV (there isn’t much else to do during a lockdown when you are on crutches with your foot in a cast!) and the one thought that occurred to me over and over again was “this show is so much better than Supernatural”.

I kept comparing everything I watched, from the quality of the scripts, the actors, the special effects, to the inclusiveness of the shows. Just so many beautiful and interesting stories that seem to understand their audience, and understand how to entertain and impress without resorting to cringe humour, outdated jokes, and prejudice, not to mention misogyny and queerbaiting – yup, I said it.

The thing is, I think these thoughts have been creeping over me slowly for longer than just this year, but I have been desperately batting them away the way Dean Winchester bats away his own gay thoughts. Unlike Dean though, eventually I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I cannot continue to carve out space in my own soul for this show, which incessantly beats me down regardless of my devotion. The creators, the network, the writers, and sometimes even the cast, have all shown that they don’t care about me as a fan. I’m not some gun toting dudebro living in middle America, so why should they give a damn about me? I’m clearly not their target audience, nor have I ever been.

I know many of you will vehemently deny my personal opinion of Supernatural now. That is absolutely fine. I am sorry to be admitting it, but I had to. I feel like once I finally write out these words, I have got it off my chest and can close and lock the door on Supernatural for good.

Without Supernatural, I am able to focus on my real life, I am able to find pleasure in other things, new things, interesting things, that bring me joy and joy alone – not disappointment and frustration. I found a new job this year, which has been a huge accomplishment as I was stagnating in my old one, and several new hobbies under my belt. I moved to a new flat, I have a lovely flatmate who has been a godsend throughout lockdown, and I have rekindled friendships that I was neglecting due to my Supernatural obsession.

All in all, I am finding post-Supernatural life far more rewarding and content than my life in fandom. It has taken me a while, but I am over the show. And whilst I will always hold a special place in my heart for Castiel, it will be as I know him in my own mind; as the wonderful, strong, powerful and determined angel with a soul, who loves so strongly, and who is worth so much more than his own creators give him credit for. He is up there with Aziraphale and Crowley, with The Doctor, and Buffy, as one of the greatest characters of all time.

So the Supernatural writers and creators can take whatever ending they have decided upon, and shove it up their asses. I am sorry to say that Sam and Dean Winchester are also lost to me. Any love I had for them was destroyed by their later season depictions. Castiel alone is the only character worthy of that space in my heart now. If in time he longs for a companion, I will find one for him, but it won’t be the Dean Winchester of the canon show. Canon Dean hasn’t been deserving of Cas for a long time now.

Perhaps I am still a little bitter about the ending. Perhaps the finale won’t be the disaster I expect it to be, perhaps Dabb will somehow turn it all around last minute following whatever travesty Bucklemming have given us in 15x19. Either way, I won’t be watching.

So this is me saying goodbye to this blog, at least until I have decided what else to do with it. It certainly won’t be a Supernatural fandom blog anymore. It wasn’t all wasted though. I did get a wonderful friendship group out of this fandom, and I have certainly expanded my knowledge of film and television analysis, as well as having enjoyed a great many memes.

I guess in the end, my internal war with my inner bitter Cas girl finished with her winning, and writing this post. Once it is posted however, I will put her to sleep with thoughts of a happy Castiel, who has swapped his wings for a beating human heart, and is living on a beach somewhere beautiful, refurbishing an old Victorian house, and greeting his kindly elderly neighbours. There’s a gay bar on the main strip, and the bartender is quite a dish. Green eyes and light brown hair with a killer smile. Castiel thinks he looks familiar, like a memory from a past life, but they’ve definitely never met, because this man is kind.

Now that she is asleep, there is nothing left for me here. Goodbye everyone. Whether you manage to enjoy the finale or not, I truly hope you too, find your peace.

#personal #a goodbye message to fandom

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rose-demica · 3 years

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So this started out brief, then it just grew... also I know he says ‘well, I’ve heard that one before’ but this felt like it fit better with the story.

Past Dean x Reader,

Warnings: Pregnant!Reader (I wanted to keep this as a surprise, but then I realised trigger warnings are important). One night stand. Long Drabble, more of a one-shot.

Finding a case had been a godsend, you’d been bored out of your mind in the bunker since Sam and Dean had left on their own case. They’d ordered you to stay home, and stay out of trouble. In theory, an easy task, in reality, not so much. The longer their case ran, the more it felt like you were suffering from Cabin fever. The bunker always felt so much emptier, so much less like home when the boys were gone and Baby wasn’t taking pride of place in the garage. You had no social interaction apart from an occasional phone call from one of the boys, checking in to make sure everything was okay. Even Castiel and Crowley hadn’t popped by, too busy with their own things to stop by and keep you company.

So, you’d done what hunters did best, you’d gone searching for a case, finding one a few states over. It was an easy one, it had to be an easy one, you weren’t ready for anything harder than a salt and burn. You weren’t sure how you were going to manage digging up the grave, but you were sure that you could come up with something.

You picked a ghost, one that had been haunting the family house, scaring off anyone who brought it and tried to live in it after the last of her descendants moved out of it. The ghost hadn’t taken a life, not until last week, when the newest owners, firm disbelievers in the supernatural had pushed the ghost too far. Kept refusing to leave despite the ghost’s best attempts to scare them off. It had taken the life of a child, seemingly by mistake, another attempt to scare them off gone horribly wrong.

You knew it wouldn’t be satisfied now it had a taste of death, they never were. They always got angrier, stronger, the longer they were left, stuck as ghosts, unable to move on, and unwilling to stop.

It was a quick job, minus the fact that the ghost had already been cremated, forcing you to find the object holding her to the world.

Thankfully, the formerly firm disbelievers were happy to help you, pointing you to objects that had remained in the house before they brought it. They were willing to do anything to protect both their remaining child, and the unborn one, still protected in its mother's womb. The father even helped you to burn each and every single one of the objects while his wife and child played games in a ring of salt. He had tried to convince you to stay with them, safe in the circle, but you were the expert here, you needed to be out there, getting rid of the ghost.

It had seemed cathartic for the father, armed with an iron poker, he’d swung with a scream of rage each time the ghost appeared, destroying her time and time again, right up until you burnt the correct item, and the ghost went up in flames.

It had been worth it, hugging the family as they cried, mourning the child they’d lost, as well as the relief that it was all over. Sam and Dean didn’t like staying for this part, ducking out as soon as they could, you didn’t mind, comforting them, before leaving them with your number, and a promise to call you if they ever encountered anything like that again.

Your hand was on your own stomach as you drove home, unable to imagine the grief they would have felt at losing their child. The guilt they would feel for the rest of their lives, the realisation that the child would have lived if they’d not been so stubborn, and had listened to the signs.

Despite trying to convince them otherwise, you knew there would always be a part of them that believed it was their own fault.

The boys beat you home, you noticed, pulling into the garage to see Baby back where she belonged, freshly cleaned by the look of her. Your eyes dropped to your phone, normally they sent you a message when they were returning, but you had nothing from either of them.

Guilt settled in your stomach, they were going to be furious with you, not just because you’d left the bunker, but that you’d also taken a case without telling them. Last time you’d taken a case without telling them- they’d worried endlessly that something could happen to you, a monster could take you down, you could be kidnapped, and no one would know where to even begin looking for you. Granted it would be worse this time, you’d left them a note, hidden within a book they would probably never open, but you had tried. That would be your excuse at least.

You knew it was bad when Sam met you at the garage steps, wrapping you up tightly in a hug, a hand pressed to you belly and a sigh of relief passing his lips. He didn’t let you go, silently escorting you to the war room, where Dean was pacing back and forth.

He wasn’t as impressed, nor relieved to see you. His hands went into his pockets, as he shrugged, perching on the edge of the study desk. Sam directed you to a chair, waiting until you were seated to move around the room, stopping at the side and looking nervously between you and Dean.

“What’s your excuse this time?” He was beyond pissed at you, not even reaching out in greeting, no hug before he scolded you. No murmurs of thanks that you were alright. Perhaps he put his hands in his pockets so he could deny the urge to reach for you, you didn’t know, the Winchesters were hard to read.

“I was bored, so I went to help a nearby family. I left a note.” You went to stand up, and go to get it, prove that there was, in fact, a note there for him to find.

“Y/N.” Dean growled, stepping closer, and you stopped, sitting back down just as quickly. “You are 5 months pregnant, with my child, I would think you’d want to keep yourself here and safe.” He wasn’t yelling, that would be worse, instead he was speaking calmly, his barely contained rage simmering across the surface of his words.

“I was safe Dean, I wasn’t about to put my child in harm's way.” How dare he suggest you would risk the health and safety of your own flesh and blood! A child you’d been growing for five months now.

“You went on a hunt!” Dean lost his hold on his rage, stepping closer to you, a finger poking into your chest to accentuate his point. The chair fell back behind you as you stood, unwilling to let the elder winchester tower over you.

“Then you shouldn’t have knocked up your one night stand, insist on keeping both her and the baby, then locking her in some creepy underground bunker with no friends, no company, and nothing to keep her entertained!” You yelled back, poking him back. You took a deep breath, calming yourself down.

“It’s been weeks since you left. I’ve been alone and bored out of my brain. So yeah, god forbid I have anything to do. I made sure it was an easy job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want a shower and to sleep in my own bed. Come find me when you get your fat head out of your arse.” You took a step, and Dean’s hand shot out, wrapping around your arm.

“Dean, let her go.” Sam stepped up, freeing you from his hold, You offered him a small smile of thanks, before heading to your room, and taking a shower. You weren’t kidding when you stated what you wanted, the smell of smoke and ash clung to you, and if you had to smell if for another second you were going to be sick. Maybe by the time you got out Dean would be ready to apologise, maybe he wouldn’t, either way was fine by you.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

Dean was on your bed when you got out of the shower and made it back to your room. Thankfully he’d taken off his shoes this time, his feet on the bed, back against the headboard while he flicked through the pages of some book that had caught his fancy.

“Any calmer?” You watched as his jaw clenched, running a towel through your wet hair. “Or not.” You turned your back on him, putting your dirty clothes in the hamper, and hanging your second towel on a hook behind the door.

“I was worried sick Y/N.” Dean came up behind you, his arms wrapping around you, lips pressed to the back of your neck. “You weren’t here, you haven’t answered any of our calls or texts for days. We rushed to finish the case, then I drove straight back here, no pauses, no breaks and-” Dean took a deep breath, pulling you closer to him. “Sammy offered to drive but there wasn’t time, I had to get back, I had to make sure you were safe.” His hand spread out across your growing stomach, “That you were both safe.”

“I haven’t got any calls or texts.” You leant back into Dean with a frown, using one hand to scoop up your phone to show him.

“It said your number was no longer in service.” Dean kept one hand on your belly, taking your phone off you to check for himself.

“Oh Shoot! It’s because Thomas’ plan would have run out. I need to organise my own.” You didn’t need to see Dean's face to know he was confused. “When Thomas and I broke up, he agreed to keep paying off my phone until it was done, then it was up to me. I paid him a lump sum, it must have just run out, because i was getting your messages a few days ago.”

“I’ll tell Sammy to put you on ours.” Dean pressed another kiss to the back of your head. “I know we agreed to just be friends, but crap Y/N, coming home to see you and our baby gone, it terrified me, I’d gotten so used to the idea of building a life with you that-” You felt water hit the back of your neck, Dean’s hold around you tightening as a sob escaped his throat. “Please.”

You forced Dean to loosen his hold, just enough so you could turn and wrap your arms around him, a hand in his hair as he sobbed.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, offering him what comfort you could. He clutched you tighter, taking a big, shuddering, breath in.

“I don’t think I can let you out of my sight.” Dean leant back, swiping at his eyes to remove the liquid that was attempting to escape.

“One night mister, I’ll give you one night.” A chuckle left Dean’s lips as he picked you up and spun you around onto the bed. You quickly kicked off the sheets, knowing if he got settled you would have no chance of getting the blankets out from under him.

“That's what you said last time.” He teased, clambering in beside you and wrapping you up in a tight hug, snuggling up as close to you as he could, cradling you close.

“Goodnight Dean.” You recognised the way he was curled into you, he was getting ready to fall asleep.

“Thank you for coming home.” He whispered back, you took a moment to get more comfortable, before letting your eyes fall closed.

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

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Journey To A Dream - Sabriel Rapunzel AU

Part 6

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Sam immediately let out a laugh as he started running around in the grass, launching old fallen leaves into the air and splashing water from a nearby pond.

"Does grass always smell this good?!" He exclaimed, bringing a bunch of pulled blades from the ground to his nose before moving onto something else. "Water is way more cold than I thought it would be!" He exclaimed, chucklimg to himself as he dug his fingers into the dirt and sighed happily at how it felt.

Gabriel watched this turn of events with a confused expression and a raised eyebrow. This guy really had never left that tower for 21 years. All of his life. That was something that Gabriel could barely fathom.

Gabriel couldn't even be in Heaven nowadays for that long without pulling his feathers from his wings out.

Gabriel shook his head and just watched Sam freak out. It was quite entertaining, if he were to say so himself.

Sam continues to freak out for five minutes, just being happy to be out of that freaking tower. After a few moments he finally runs back to Gabriel, laughing happily to himself.

"Thank you!! I cannot believe I'm doing this!" He grinned, pushing his dark brown strand behind his ear as he turns to leave the clearing.

Gabriel again raises an eyebrow at the strand, but shrugs it off, walking after him. Immediately, ideas began to run through his head though. This guy hasn't seen the real world, right? So Gabriel could technically scare him, right?

Sam almost danced away from the tower, running through trees and just enjoying the spring wind on his face. Sure, he knew that he would have to go back, but he was going to enjoy it while he could. Azazel obviously wasn't going to let him. And besides, what was so wrong with the world that Azazel wouldn't let him go out?

Gabriel walked behind Sam slowly, his hands in his pockets as Crowley hung onto Sam's shoulder.

"So... you live in that towet alone?" Gabriel asks, running a hand through his golden brown hair.

Sam finally stops running and shook his head, humming a tune under his breath as he walked ahead of Gabriel.

Gabriel raised another curious eyebrow. "So, who else lives with you?" He asks, lowering his head as Crowley gave Gabriel a glare.

Sam turned his head and frowned. "U-uh... my father. He's away right now. Actually thats the only reason I've been able to even get out of the tower in the first place." He says, smacking Crowley a bit for being rude.

Gabriel smirked a bit. "So, you still live with your father? Aren't you afraid he might... I dunno... come home early and find you gone? Wouldn't he search the ends of the earth for you?" He asks, plucking a flower from the ground, sniffing it innocently as Sam stopped in realization.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, and began to worry. "He... he would, wouldn't he..." he mumbles, beginning to fret.

Gabriel fought back the urge to smile more. "And wouldn't you crush his heart, knowing you left after he asked you specifically not to?" He asks, still walking forwards, but not very fast.

Sam widens his eyes even more, beginning to pant. "Y-yeah... yeah he would..." he syas nervously, shuffling his feet.

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, if you want my opinion, I think we should just cut you out of this deal. Take you and your rat home, I get my satchel, and then you and your father will have a great relationship untainted by betrayal-" he starts, turning around to see a miffed Sam who stomped over to him.

"No! I am seeing those lanterns!" He insists, brandishing the pan in his hand. "You will take me to see those lanterns conscious or not." He threatens, moving the pan threateningly close.

Gabriel finally stops walking, and pushed Sam's pan away as he starts to try and talk himself out of the deal when the bushes begin to rustle, and a far off sound of voices make Sam jump and hide behind Gabriel.

"Is is Angels? Hunters? Have they finally tracked my hair down?!" He squeaked, making Gabriel give him a dumbfounded look.

Then, out of the bushes outsteps a moose. Gabriel snickers. "Look, its just another version of you, Samsquatch. Don't worry, it can't smell fear." He teased. Sam huffed and smacked Gabriel's shoulder.

"Shut up! Hunters and angels have wanted my hair for as long as I can remember." He says, pushing his hair back as he begins walking.

"What makes you say that? Why would, hypothetically, an angel want your hair?" He asks Sam, confused and laughing at Sam's excuse for being scared.

Sam huffed again. "My father told me-" he starts before he reevaluates his decision. "You know what? No. Its none of your buisness." He says in a scowl before he stomps forward, making Gabriel roll his eyes.

Gabriel wanted to say that it was his buisness, but that would reveal more than he wanted to. Then an idea hit him.

Gabriel quickly caught up with Sam. "You know what? I'm hungry. Are you? Cause I know a great place for lunch." He insists, smiling.

Sam raised an eyebrow, softening his face. "Really? What's it called?" He asks.

Gabriel chuckled. "Its a surprise, come on. Let's go." He says before he grabs Sam's hand and leads him down the hill towards the place he had in mind.

Sam kept looking around as Gabriel led him through the forest. He was still in awe of the world and wondering still how his father saw the world as so cruel.

Eventually, after a short while Gabriel led Sam to a building lit up in a sign that said 'Harvelle's Roadhouse'.

Sam smiled at the place. "Its nice..." He says, smiling as he admired the building.

Gabriel forced a smile onto his face. "Right? Come on, lets go in and eat." He says, grabbing Sam's wrist and dragging him up to the door and bursting the door open. "Ellen! Your best table, please." He says in a fake accent, which Sam follows up with a gasp.

Sam's eyes wander the restaurant, seeing hunters everywhere. A few at the bar, a few playing darts, some looking through lore books, before they all looked up at Sam and Gabriel.

Gabriel forced Sam through, almost dragging him through the crowd of literally blood covered hunters. "Joe, nice to see you, Ah, Polly, nice to see you got that stab wound fixed up." He says, making up names for each of the hunters as they walked. "See, these giys are nice. But if they unsettle you that much, why don't we just ride on back to your little tower-" he starts before he bumps into a larger hunter, one who looked like a real drunkard.

Sam gulped as he looked into the hunter's blue eyes, backing away from the man. Then, another hunter, one who had her name etched onto her cap 'Jo' picked up Gabriel by the collar. She pulled out a wanted paper and showed it to him.

"This you?" She asks, smirking at him.

Gabriel looked at Jo for a moment and shook his head. "No. Trust me you definitely have the wrong guy-" he starts. Then, another female hunter comes up, gripping a fistful of Sam's hair.

"Really? Why would someone come in here, looking exactly like the fugitive Loki, with a sissy of a partner with this much fucking hair?" The blonde hunter hissed, glaring at Gabriel with her own blue eyes.

Sam yelps and pulls his hair out of the hunter's grip and accidentally bumped into the other hunter again. The hunter grumbled and looked at him again.

"Would you stop that? Can't any of you idjits leave me alone?" He grunts. Sam sighed and muttered a 'Sorry' before he sunk away.

Gabriel raised his hands and almost admitted defeat. "N-no, look, that isn't me. See? The faces don't match! Especially the nose!" He insists, trying to be put down.

Then, finally, another hunter grabs the wanted poster and chews out the nose portion. "Now does it look like you?" The hunter asks, murder in his eyes.

Gabriel gulps somewhat and the hunter smirks. "Ooh I'm gonna love sending you off to get your head cut off like the vamps that I kill." He smirked, hoisting Gabriel up by his collar and hanging him on the wall as all of the hunters in the room began to discuss what they were going to do with the prize money.

The hunter Sam had accidentally bumped into multiple times sent a hunter by the name of 'Garth' out the door to go get 'Dean'. Sam could only guess that 'Dean' was the guards.

"Go on, ya idjit! Go send for Dean! You know how much he wants this mother's head." The hunter huffs before he goes to try and break up the fighting. But Sam beat him to it.

Sam stood up on top of a table and launched his hair, pulling back one of the loose rafters before calling out. "Hey!" And letting go, hitting the dark skinned hunter who had put Gabriel up on the hook on the head.

Immediately everyone's attention turned to Sam, and they started to move towards him.

Sam then began to panic. "L-look, I get it. You all probably aren't able to afford much. And him falling into your laps is probably a godsend. But please, he's my only ticket to see the lanterns the kingdom is sending off tomorrow before I have to go back home. It's been my dream forever. Please, find it in yourselves to let him go. Haven't any of you had a dream once in your lives?" He asks in a huff and with limited air.

The gruff hunter that Sam accidentally kept bothering got extremely close and took a long swig of his beer before he tossed it into the garbage, where it promptly shattered.

"What's your name kid?" He asks in a rough voice.

Sam gulps before he answered. "Sam, my name is Sam." He answered.

Gabriel face palmed against the door, knowing that was a stupid mistake with hunters.

Bobby ponders this a second before he extends his hand. "The name's Bobby Singer. You a hunter?" He asks. "You don't look like one. All that hair would get you killed." He says.

Sam chuckled nervously. "N-no, no I'm not...B-bobby." He says.

Bobby nods before he starts speaking again. "Well Sam, yeah, I did have a dream. A long time ago. My dream was to marry the girl of my dreams. Keep up my ranch of horses. But that all caved in on me when a demon possessed my wife and I had to kill her." He answered, opening a new beer.

Sam raised his eyebrows, frowning at Bobby's story. "I... I'm so sorry." He says, suddenly feeling bad for the hunter.

One of the female hunters stepped up. "Me? My dad was possessed by an angel. The angel got him killed. My mom died cause of one too. Don't let them fool you. They aren't cherubs." The blonde hunter hissed. "You know what my dream was? To have my family back." She says.

Sam sighed, grippimg his hair. Then, another hunter stood up, this was the darker skinned one. "My dream? To avenge my sister. She was turned into a vampire amd I had to kill her. But revenge never satisfies anything." He says, sharpening his knife against the table.

Sam looked around, seeing multiple hunters step up and tell their stories and their crushed dreams. It made Sam's heart ache. He flashed his puppy dog eyes at everyone, feeling terrible.

The very last moment, one of the other hunters took hold of Gabriel's collar and put him down. "What about you, Trickster? Ever had a dream?" The hunter asked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Sorry guys but uh, I don't share well with others." He says, before a few hunters took out their knives and Gabriel rolled his eyes again.

"Fine. My dream, was to get away from my family. Start a new life full of sex, riches and lots and lots of sugar!" Gabriel started out meaningful, like he was going to actually take it serious, before he finishes, giving a seductive pose that no one was fazed by.

Bobby scoffed. "That's a terrible dream." He says. Gabriel shrugged.

"You asked." He says, trying to walk away triumphantly. The other hunters lifted him up again, aiming their blades near his body. He looked almost unfazed, but he had to keep up the facade. So he made a look of terror and gulped.

Bobby turned back to Sam. "Now you, Sam. Tell us your dream." He says, sitting back and sipping his beer.

Sam smiled and stood up a bit taller. "Well... mine isn't as precious as yours. But, for me? Every year on May second, I open my window from my tower and I see almost a thousand lanterns launched into the sky. I always wondered what they looked like in person. My father never let me out of the tower." He says, leaning towards Bobby for a second. Bobby gives him a skeptical look, before continuing to listen.

"So, since Loki has been to the kingdom I'm asking him to take me to see them. The agreement was that he'd take me and then take me home but... if I'm honest? The more and more time I spend outside of my tower? The more I want to stay out." He admits, smiling to himself.

Bobby smiled and opened his mouth to speak as Garth charged into the bar again, fixing his hat.

"I found him! And the guards!" He exclaims. Bobby widened his eyes and grabbed Sam's wrist, pulling Gabriel along with him. He pulled them behind the bar, and pulled a lever, showing that there was a tunnel let out under the floorboard.

Bobby sighed, and smiled at Sam. "Go on, live your dream. Find peace or whatever." He says.

Gabriel stares into the dark cavern and smirked. "Oh I will, don't worry..." he says in a whisper. A loud thud is heard above the bar as the horse from earlier stamped his hooves against the bar counter.

Sam covers his mouth so his yelp isn't heard. Bobby rolls his eyes and smacks Gabriel in the back of the head.

"Your dream, stinks. I was talking to him." He says in a scowl. Sam smiled nervously and hugged Bobby for a moment.

"Thank you," he whispers before he escapes into the tunnel behind Gabriel. Bobby then closes the hatch, hoping to give them some time.

As Bobby stands back up, Dean walks over and greets him in a hug.

"Bobby, long time no see, huh?" He asks. Bobby nods, smiling a bit as he hugs back.

"Well if you weren't so busy all the time," he starts in a huff. Dean chuckled.

"Bobby, we've talked about this. You know why I search so much. I need to find him. I promised him I'd protect him the day he was born. I failed him on that. So now I gotta find him. Bring him home." Dean says, looking over at the horse.

The horse tries to mess with the floorboards where Sam and Gabriel had been able to escape through.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Cas? You find something?" Dean asks, walking over. He sees the boards are unusually cut, and starts to inspect it a bit.

Castiel rolled his eyes and pressed his hoove against a hidden lever, opening the tunnel.

Dean smiled victoriously. "Great job Cas. Now, lets get this filthy Trickster." He grins before one by one the guards start to pile into the tunnel, making Bobby sigh and hope for the best for Sam and unfortunately, for Gabriel.

#spn #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn fandom #spn fanfic #sabriel #sabriel/tangled #supernatural/tangled #sabrielspn

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kiame-sama · 5 years

Text

Good Omens Boyfriend Scenarios- How You Meet

Aziraphale:

You were walking the streets of London with your hands in your pockets and your head down, trying to get back to your flat. It was beginning to become night and wicked storm clouds were rolling in. In an effort to escape the coming storm, you were attempting to take a shortcut through Soho.

But of course, you had no such luck to out run the dark skies. Usually you were alright with the rain, but at this point you felt miserable. You had a long day at work and your manager yelled at you for something you didn't do. The one who did mess up was commended and praised after taking credit for your work.

So the moment the sky opened up and began to pour, the floodgates were open as well as you began to cry. The streets were gathering pools of water, passing cars splashing the up on the sidewalk and directly onto you. You were now soaked, fed up, and sobbing.

It seemed getting to your flat was just a fools errand since the heavy rain disoriented you. Your only choice was to take shelter under an overhang from one of the shops. There you curled up on the steps, holding your knees close and sobbing into your wet clothes.

It felt like someone up above wanted you to suffer and you figured you should just wait on the storm, lest you get struck by lightning as well.

You closed your eyes and slowly began to drift off, your emotions draining you and your long day leaving you exhausted. Sleep seeming so welcoming at this point.

Your eyes snapped open and you quickly sat up, crying out in surprise. Your sudden cry startled the man sitting next to you and he yelped as well, almost dropping his book in the process. It was then you realized you weren't on the steps of that shop any more.

You were sitting up on a rather comfortable couch, soft blanket wrapped around you, your clothes warm and dry. Your shoes were off, along with your socks, leaving your feet slightly exposed where the blanket had slipped off.

"Where- where am I?"

"You were unconcious outside of my shop, practically frozen by the time I found you. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty to take you in and warm you up."

You let your gaze travel over and examine the odd man sitting next to you. He wore several layers of a nice white suit, the clothing impeccable without a single wrinkle. He had soft looking white hair that curled close to his scalp, paired with bright blue eyes that were full of trust and kindness. He was a bit on the fluffier side, but that added to his sweet charm.

After the day you had, this man was a godsend.

"Thank you... Sir?"

"Azrah Fell, and of course dear, no one should be left outside in that weather. If I may be so bold, may I ask what were you doing out in the rain?"

"I... I was trying to get back to my flat after work. The bus I usually take wasn't running so I had to walk. The storm started and I got caught outside in it."

The kind man nodded in understanding, smiling kindly at you with not a hint of judgement. You couldn't help but smile back, your sour mood lightening from the true kindness of the man.

You noticed the rain had stopped and the night was now silent outside. Now was a perfect time to get back to your flat.

"I should probably get back to my flat, but is there anything I can do to repay you, Mr. Fell?"

"Not to worry dear, a good deed is its own reward as they say."

"Are you sure?"

Mr. Fell nodded with that kind smile of his and helped you to your feet, gesturing to your dry socks and shoes. As you began to walk out, avoiding large stacks of books, you took a moment to look back at the man who had helped you.

"Thank you again, Mr. Fell. You're an angel."

With that, you turned and left, not noticing the surprised look on the kind gentleman's face.

Crowley:

You stood in the plant shop, looking at the wide selection of flowers and greenery around you. The other day you realized that your new flat was lacking something, so you decided some plants might spruce up the place.

After choosing a rather lovely fern, you headed back to your flat, happy that the store was close to where you lived. When you went inside, you made the treck up to your door, fishing the keys from your jacket.

Before you could open it however, you heard shouting from the flat next to yours. The voice was muffled and you could only make out a handful of words before the door flew open. A red head stomped out of the flat, small plant in hand, cursing under his breath.

You watched him for a moment, stunned by his sudden appearance. He was a handsome man, you would admit. He wore tight leather pants and a dark grey shirt that clung to his beautiful figure. His black sunglasses shielding his eyes and his wild red hair complementing his complexion.

You were about to go into your flat when his gaze snapped towards you, teeth clenched in rage.

"And what the hell are you looking at?!"

"Sor-sorry, sorry. I just moved in and I didn't expect you to walk out here like that..."

A small sneer pulled at his lips before he seemed to notice the fern tucked away in your arm. He lost his sneer and huffed, looking back up at you.

"Lucky find. Almost all ferns I see are withered and useless, so it's surprising to see one in good condition. Try to keep it that way or else it will be a disappointment like this useless thing."

He held up the small plant in his hand and it seemed like nothing was wrong with it. It was a lovely green and had beautiful leaves, one of which had a small hole in it.

"It looks fine to me."

"It has a hole in it. Unacceptable. It goes to the shredder where it belongs."

You felt a bit of sorrow for the little plant, as it was doing the best it could, so you decided to try to help it.

"What if we traded?"

"What?"

"We could trade plants. I'll take that one, and you take my fern."

"Why would you want this pathetic excuse in exchange for that flawless fern?"

"Why not?"

The man stood and thought for a moment, contemplating the offer you gave before he held out the little plant to you. You took the small plant and handed over the fern, careful to not drop either of them. He looked at the fern, appraising it and turning it in his hands before nodding, entering his flat once more without a single word to you.

What an odd man.

You took your new little plant inside, setting it down on the table next to your couch. It almost looked like it was shaking as you smiled at it. It may seem wierd, but you heard plants enjoyed being spoken to, so you decided to give it a try.

"Hey there little buddy, I hope I can do well to help you grow. I'll do my best to keep you healthy and watered."

The plant went still as you pet the leaves gently before letting it be, going to your kitchen to make some food.

Beelzebub: (WARNING: slight assault)

The sky above you growled and rumbled lowly. Thunder rolling overhead.

It was the afternoon and eeryone was hurrying to get home as no one paid each other any mind as they shuffled and moved around. The traffic was terrible and it made you glad that you had decided to walk instead of drive. It was like everyone was in a hurry to beat the storm before it broke.

You were in no such hurry as you had an umbrella tucked in your arm and a rather good water-proof coat. If it did start to rain, you knew you would be fine since you were prepared for the coming storm.

Of course, as you thought that, water began to fall from the sky, starting off slow before becoming a steady downpour overhead. You popped open your umbrella and continued on your way, noticing most people had ducked inside already.

It was just rain you didn't see what the big deal was. It wasn't like people were going to melt if they went outside.

You passed by a closed shop and noticed something that caught your attention. Standing under the overhang and looking out at the rain was an odd person. They had black hair, piercing blue eyes, and an odd little fly hat atop their head. It seemed like they were attempting to curse the sky for daring to rain while they were out.

You watched them a moment longer before approaching, their gaze snapping to you. It was almost like they were staring into your soul with those odd blue eyes, but you did your best not to falter.

"Do you not have an umbrella?"

"..."

"You can have mine if you'd like."

"... Why?"

"Because it's raining... And an umbrella keeps you dry in the rain?"

The person continued to stare at you, unblinking and analytical before looking up at your umbrella, noting how it kept the rain off. Their gaze came back to you and you could almost swear that you could hear buzzing coming from them.

"How?"

"Um... You hold it over your head and it stops the rain from falling on you."

"..."

"Do you want-?"

"Yes."

The person was odd, no doubt, but everyone was in their own way, and maybe this one just didn't do well with talking to people. You held out the umbrella for your odd associate to take, which they quickly did, copying you from earlier and keeping the rain off.

Without the umbrella, rain fell onto your head so you quickly pulled up your hood, keeping relatively dry. With a wave goodbye to the strange person you turned and headed off, unaware someone else was watching you.

As you neared the building where your flat was, a sudden hand shot out from the alleyway, grabbing your arm and slamming you against the brick wall. You only had time to let out a light squeak before your mouth was covered, the smell coming from the man made you gag, eyes watering.

You felt terror fill you as the man ripped your hood off, licking his lips and staring at you lustfully. He tore at your jacket until it split at the seams, throwing it to the side. He leaned forward, pinning your body with his own and deeply inhaled, breathing in your scent with a deranged growl. His one hand stayed over your mouth and his other traveled down between your legs.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed before the man was suddenly wrenched off of you. You fell to your knees and scrambled back against the wall, staring at the events unfolding before you. The man was being rather brutally beaten by the odd person you had given your umbrella to.

They kicked the man hard enough to knock him out before looking at you, walking over and holding out their hand. You cautiously took it, letting the person pull you to your feet. They continued to stare as the two of you stood close, the umbrella shielding the both of you from the rain.

"Thank you... If you hadn't come I- he- he would have..."

You trailed off, feeling a shudder go down your spine, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a hot shower to wash it all away. It was then that the sky cleared, the clouds breaking up and a ray of light shined down on the two of you. A beautiful rainbow appeared and you shielded your eyes looking up at the odd spectacle.

The odd person shied away from the sun ray, withdrawing to the shadows of the alleyway. They slowly held out your umbrella to you.

"Oh, you can keep it. It's the least I can do to thank you."

They again said nothing and just stared at you, watching you smile at them. They mutely nodded, eyes flickering to the shreds that was your jacket before back to you in a questioning way.

"The guy... He- he tore it off of me. It won't do me any good now."

You gazed sadly at your jacket before turning away, now on full alert for any more threats. You could always get another one.

"Thank you again. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Again you waved and walked off, now moving at a brisk pace to try and avoid any more hassle. The other stood silently, watching you leave before turning and picking up the scraps of your jacket, tucking them away in their bag. They then turned to the unconcious man, grabbing his arm and dragging him down to Hell as they went.

Gabriel:

The sun was shining on such a lovely day in the park. You walked at a leisurely pace down the paved path, taking your time to take in the scene around you. It was early so there were only a few people around, but it was still peacefull.

It was mornings like these that made life just a bit better for you. The sun warming your chilled skin, the trees swaying in the morning breeze. Yes, mornings like this made you appreciate nature even more.

As you walked, you failed to hear the footsteps until they were right on you and the person had already collided with you. Sitting on the ground you rubbed your head, trying to make sense of what happened. Above you stood the person who ran into you, looking down at you in vague surprise and amusement.

He was facinating to look at. His face was free of blemish and sculpted beautifully with a strong jawline. His piercing amethyst eyes practically glowing in the morning light as he regarded you. He wore a jogging suit and seemed to not even be breaking a sweat.

You pulled yourself to your feet, dusting off the dirt that clung to your clothes due to your fall. The man never once offered you his hand to help you up, even though he was the reason you were knocked down. He wore and amused smile as you grumbled softly, not wanting to be the bigger person but knowing better.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run into you, I must have been distracted."

"Apology accepted."

Irritation filled you at his haugty voice, as if you were the offending party in the situation. You wanted to just snap and go off on him for acting like he was completely innocent. You were stopped by a beautiful female voice that seemed to echo around you and filled you with warmth.

"This one, Gabriel. Bound by souls."

You glanced around trying to find the origin of the voice, the sun seeming to shine brighter to the point you had to shield your eyes. Just as it had become almost unbearable, the light was extinguished, returning to the usual morning shine.

"What the hell..?"

"Far from it, actually."

"What do you-?"

"My name is Gabriel, and you- little human- are bound to me."

You turned your incredulous gaze on the tall man, unable to process what he had just said to you. His expression was no longer mocking and almost seemed gentle as he looked down at you. But this was just too weird. This man was talking nonsense and you were not having any of it.

"Yeah, no. I'm good. Bye crazy man."

His expression quickly changed to confused by your dismissal of his words, following you as you turned and walked away. You glanced at him, displeased with the fact that this wierdo was trailing after you, like a lost puppy. You slowly began walking faster and he did as well, making you break out in a full blown sprint away.

He easily kept pace and continued to follow you, despite you yelling at him several times to piss off and leave you alone. It began to draw attention as a concerned citizen apparently called the police. They quickly approached and you skirted around them, taking shelter behind them.

It was only then that the man stopped, looking at the police with distain as he had first looked at you. An officer walked up to you as the others continued to shield you, ready to pull their weapons if nessecary.

"Ma'am. Someone called in and said this man was chasing you while you yelled at him to leave you alone. What's the story?"

"He just ran into me and started talking nonsense before following me. Of course I ran and he started following me. I told him to go away several times and he refused! Saying something about me being bonded to him."

The officer nodded before turning to the other police members, walking up to join them.

"Either you go to jail today or we tresspass you, so you leave this park and woman alone. Choice is yours."

The man frowned at the officers before lookimg back at you, locking his shining eyes with yours before backing off. He almost seemed stressed as he backed away, giving you space. Like he didn't want to leave or he couldn't leave for some reason.

"I'll go."

"Good. Robert here will escort you off the property. If we catch you sniffing around this woman again, you're going straight to jail."

He sneered slightly before turning, allowing the officer to lead him out of the park and away from you. He glanced back only once, locking eyes with you before disappearing from your sight.

"If he comes back, make sure to call us. We'll be there and keep you safe."

"Thank you, officer."

They soon left and you stood there in the park, more people showing up as the day got underway. You still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, however. Wondering what the hell was wrong with that guy, and who on earth had spoken to you two?

#crowley x reader good omens #beelzebub #my writing #good omens crowley #aziraphale x reader #gabriel #gabriel x reader #crowley #good omens #aziraphale #beelzebub x reader #story #boyfriend #imagines #cute #soft #angst

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witchreflection · 5 years

Text

Hello friends, I not only translated from Spanish my MP100/GO crossover, I expanded it a bit

The one where Mob is the Antichrist (WIP)

As it happens with all important projects, when the moment to set the apocalypse into motion arrived, the infernal powers appointed (or may be, sentenced) a committee to oversee all details, and as it happens with all committees, no one ever agreed on anything and only one person (or in this case, being) did all the work[1].

In another world, the unfortunate sap in charge of the allocation of a human family for the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness, chose the family of the American Cultural Attaché in the United Kingdom as the best suited for the task, and then devised an ingenious plan (for a demon) where all the actual planning for the interchange of babies was delegated to other even more unfortunate infernal agents.

In this world, however, the outcome of the committee representative’s game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe was different, so the chosen family was that of the daughter of a Japanese home appliances tycoon, and then the committee’s representative forgot to actually delegate the planning until the last moment. This is why the demon Crowley received the following orders alongside a basket with a perfectly average looking, dark haired male baby:

“Corrupt a human so they can be persuaded to steal a child from his mother’s arms, to be unknowingly replaced by our Lord’s son.”

And,

“DO NOT MESS IT UP, CROWLEY.”

Crowley offered ₤100[2] to a nurse he found smoking in the parking lot to do the deed.

And well, many years later Crowley will wash his hands over the whole affair, arguing that his plan would have worked if that same day, at that same hospital, at the other end of the same hall where Hoshino Nadeshiko-san (full-time heiress) was in labor, Kageyama Akane-san (programmer, alongside her husband at the UK for work) was not in the same situation. Or maybe it would have worked if this nurse were not terribly racist, on top of unscrupulous, and didn’t think that “all Chinese people look the same”[3].

***

Eventually, the Kageyama family (now including their much-loved Shigeo) had to return to Japan once their contracts and visas expire. In the meanwhile, the young Hoshino Asahi-kun grew a bit neglected by his parents, but with the constant attention and counsel of his kendo instructor[4] and the housekeeper.

***

Asahi-kun’s 15th birthday comes but no hellhound does.

Crowley and Aziraphale scramble to find out what happened to the Antichrist, and they first search for the nurse who is now in prison[5] and doesn’t know anything of use, then the hospital, where they pick up a paper trail[6] that leads them to Japan.

“Well,” says the demon to the angel. “On the bright side, you do like sushi.”

***

Kageyama Shigeo is a very normal baby. Average size, average weight, reaches the developmental milestones at the expected ages. His parents love him very much and if Shige-chan has an habit of always managing get things he shouldn’t into his hands, they don’t think too much about it and gently correct him, just as they do when he tries to lick the neighbour’s cat or pulls from mommy’s hair.

When things start to float a bit, they take it on stride, because, well, it is not really problem, it is only small things and not very high, and Akane is pregnant again.

It does take them by surprise when Ritsu-chan keeps dropping his pacifier or a preferred toy and they have to keep picking it up for him, which immediately raises a concern about how many things that touched the floor ended up on Shige-chan’s mouth, and relief that they don’t have to worry about that with Ritsu-chan[7].

As Shige grows, so do his powers, and his family also grows accustomed to them. Soon, every time he cries –which is not often– the furniture will rattle, the rain will not touch him and he would make little and not so little animals swim through the air, or the bath water would float in shapes, but is always to entertain Ritsu or their friend Tsubomi. Sometimes the cutlery will bend, or Shige would accidentally make everything in the house hover 2cm over the floor in his sleep, but he is a good kid and it’s not like he does it intentionally.

Then, after an incident where Ritsu returns unharmed but covered in blood and Shige in in tears, and they don’t tell no matter how much Akane and Hisao ask their children what happened, Shige stops using his powers deliberately while the accidents increase, but they can’t do anything about it, because who do you ask about your child ESP problems?

***

Later, people will debate if the well-timed appearance of Reigen Arataka into Shigeo’s life was in fact as “godsend” as the Kageyamas thought the day their child returned home from school happier and more at ease that they had seen him in months.

The fact that the man would also act as a quick response free babysitter and chaperon also helped to improve their opinion of him[8].

***

Kageyama Shigeo is a very unremarkable boy, but he tends to have a tangible effect in the people who cross his path, and he achieves this despite his powers and no thanks to them, mostly.

Had this been a different world, his powers would have not been obvious, but would have arranged the world around him to his liking. In this one, they never get him what he wants and he has to figure that one all on his own[9].

***

A list of times the world could have ended ahead of schedule:

After the incident when Shigeo lost control of his powers for the first time and believed, for a second, before he heard him cry, that Ritsu was dead.

All the times Dimple tried and failed to convince Shigeo to help him become a god[10].

The time a technician’s shoelace got caught in his desk chair’s wheel, making him trip and smash his keyboard, almost starting up a chain of events that would have resulted in a Chinese Navy ship colliding with an American one, had he not also accidentally disconnected the ethernet connection of his terminal in the process.

The time Mogami almost managed to make Shigeo lose his faith in humanity.

The time Dimple did achieve godhood thanks to Shigeo’s powers, before Shigeo’s powers decided they could do give it a try on their own and Dimple realised his mistake.

That one incident by the end of Shigeo’s second year at middle school, which is not discussed in public by people in the known, for plausible deniability, you understand. Even thought it was not his fault, he is very sorry and very sure it won’t happen again and he helped put everything together again, and he has been reassured that no one died, miraculously[10].

But the important bit is that it didn’t happen.

*** For a being that some of the time is a snake, Crowley has way too much leg to fit into a tourist class plane seat, and he has time to complain about it at length during the 12 hours flight.

You see, due to the intrinsic nature of airlines, miracling two last-minute first-class plane tickets, does not mean that those two first-class seats actually exist in that flight.

The fact that Crowley was responsible for making flying a terribly uncomfortable ordeal for the masses, was an irony lost on him.

So was the fact that he was directly contributing to the flight attendant’s path to sainthood, attained by her infinite patience.

________________________

[1]Except that, in fact, none of them did anything.

[2] The money was fake, but the nurse deserved it.

[3] Yeah, neither I know what Crowley was expecting to happen.

[4] If he’d had the time to pay attention to these things, Hoshino Katashi-san (CEO of his father-in-law’s company and absent but demanding parent) would had made an issue out of the kendo instructor being British. Fortunately, not only he never asked who was teaching his son, but the instructor wasn’t even really British in the first place, nor Japanese as Hoshino-san would preferred, nor anything, simply because the instructor wasn’t born in any country, or region, or geographic zone, as he had been brought into existence by Divine Will before the Creation, and he has been issued the physical form he inhabited after a long and tedious bureaucratic process, and he very much prefers to never have to go through it again, thank you.

[5]After noticing the money she had been paid with was fake, the nurse took a very pragmatic decision by taking the extra baby she found herself with to an adoption agency for rich people, where she received a quite large “fee”. This inspired her to a change in careers and became a full time “recruiter” for the agency, until it was closed under investigations for human trafficking.

[6]Not literally. The paper archive was burnt in a freak accident which was in no way caused by infernal agents with no knowledge about electronic databases.

[7]What they don’t know is that, soon enough, Shige-chan starts picking up things for his brother too when they are not looking. Maybe this is the reason why the brothers built extraordinarily strong immune systems and rarely get sick, maybe it is the other way around. I’m betting in the later.

[8]So did the discreet background check they did(a) on Reigen to make sure nothing untoward would happen. It also revealed that the man had his driving licence and an updated certification in first aid, making him qualified enough to take up child-care professionally.

[8.a] A leftover form their youth, before they decided to use their skills in a more legitimate manner as “cybersecurity”.

[9]With the support of loving family and friends, not that it lessens his effort in any way, but it is nice to mention it and Shigeo likes be reminded of it, too.

[10]But not a god as in God, more like a god as in the inaccurate translation of kami in Shintoism. Unbeknownst, back then, to Dimple, had he succeeded in making a god out of Shigeo, the results could had been less like the Emperor (like he envisioned) and closer (but not quite) to the actual Almighty.

[11]This is still being debated by the people in the known.

#auri sometimes writes things

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lexiecarver · 5 years

Text

Good Things Come in Small Packages

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Notes: Who needs a fluffy Crowley? :) Happy to help. It’s a little wish fulfillment on my part. :D Fluff and unprotected sex (wear a raincoat boys), Pregnancy. Erotica.

I wrote this for @one-shots-supernatural‘s Hiatus Challenge week 8, “No, I said we would be safer, not safe.”

Word Count: 1, 489 A03

Three minutes. Three long minutes and then you’d have your answer. You sat there on the clawfoot tub staring at the stick on the sink, waiting for it to tell you what you already suspected. You got up and left the bathroom to pace the length of the hallway while your mind flooded with memories of the King of Hell.

Crowley walked in like a boss, his eyes slowly roving up and down your body before they met your eyes.

“Well, who is this exquisite creature?”

“Hands off, Crowley,” Sam and Dean said in unison.

“No need to get touchy.”

“Exactly!” Dean ground out.

“I apologize. My brothers are very protective.”

“It really is a crime that a beauty such as yourself should be associated with these nightmares. I’ll tell you what you want to know but…”

He stood behind you, pushing your long hair to one side of your neck as he whispered in your ear.

“Only if you go on a date with me.”

Dean grimaced and Sam looked shocked when you said the only logical answer, “Yes.”

You looked at your watch, two more minutes. Sigh. You slumped down against the wall.

“Are you sure, pet?”

“ I’ve been sneaking out to see you for months now. I might as well make it worthwhile.”

Crowley quirked his eyebrow.

“Well then.”

He snapped his fingers making both of your clothes disappear.

“I would hate to keep a girl waiting.”

You can’t resist the urge to look down at his huge rock hard cock.

“Wow, how big was that before you sold your soul?”

Crowley flashed one of his signature smirks your way.

“I do like you stroking my ego.”

“I can stroke a lot more than that.”

In one fell swoop, you found yourself on the bed with a rather lustful Crowley on top of you.

Smirking, you reached down and grabbed his cock, slowly sliding your hand up and down his large length. Keeping his eyes on yours, he plunged a finger into your already wet pussy, then a second. Crowley groaned at how wet you already were. You both weren’t sure how much foreplay you could handle and so you did what any horny woman would do. You egged your lover on.

“ Time to put your money where your mouth is…. King.”

Crowley moved back and entered you in one fluid movement. Your moan sounded breathy. He grunted in response. He stilled inside you laying his head on your shoulder. After a very short time, you bucked your hips up to let him know it was OK to move. He started out slowly, watching your face closely for any sign of discomfort but after a couple of minutes he lost himself in the moment and was pounding you into the bed. Your hands clutched the sheets as you, too, were lost in the moment. Crowley closed his eyes relishing the feeling of his cock inside your warm walls. He could hear your moans of pleasure driving him to chase both your orgasms. You came moments later screaming his name, Crowley close behind you. You closed your eyes as your breathing slowly got back to normal. Crowley scooped you up into his arms and you both lay silently blissed out.

You were a little nervous but you knew what the stick would tell you. Even though you were a hunter, you loved Crowley with everything you had. And honestly, the thought of having his kid growing there inside you made your stomach flutter. You could almost imagine the look on his face when you told him. You two could have a life together, albeit a bit of a tricky one if you still wanted to hunt while also living with the man you loved. This was really a godsend and with you as the mother, the kid would have to be awesome. There would be no other option.

The second you heard the alarm go off on your phone, you grabbed the stick and smiled. You were going to meet Crowley for dinner and break the news to him the only way you saw fit. Go big or go home, right?

By the time Crowley came to your apartment, you had placed a “Congratulations” balloon by the door. Crowley actually bumped into it on his way in and you heard a bouncing sound and then a pop. You stifled a giggle. He then saw a huge “It’s a …” card with a boy’s toy and a girl’s toy on the floor. Rose petals littered the floor as he walked towards the living room where you were sitting anxiously on the couch. On your desk was a baby bottle with milk in it surrounded by a Starbucks cardboard cup holder. Crowley smirked at the sight of it. He then stepped on the fortune cookie, just as you hoped he would. You were too nauseous to eat and Crowley … eating a fortune cookie? Yeah, right. He saw the paper and looked down at it. It read: “I see a bundle of joy in your future.” He turned the paper around and all the lucky numbers on the other side were 6′s. He sighed. And the final rather obvious clue, in case it wasn’t already obvious, was the book sitting on the small table by your couch: What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

“Very subtle, pet.”

“I thought so as well. I’m happier than you can imagine, though a bit shocked. Didn’t you say we were safe?”

“No, I said we were safer, not safe.”

You scowled at him.

“We’re arguing semantics.”

“I never had anyone-.”

“Oh, you had better not finish that sentence. The only one I slept with was you. Puhlease, like I’d ever find another guy as hot as I find you! The knife here will prove it.”

You took the tip and slid it slowly down your finger. You held up your bleeding finger to Crowley who look confused and worried that you had lost your mind. Then he saw your wound start to heal itself.

“I’m human so if I’m not carrying a demon baby what the hell kind of antigens do I have in my blood? I have healing powers now?

Crowley’s shocked face turned into a sweet loving one.

He ran over to you and embraced you.

“Holy fuck. That was some hug.”

“I didn’t think it was possible.”

Crowley held your face in his hands looking into your eyes to see if you were lying or holding anything back. You, in turn, leaned forward and nibbled his bottom lip.

“I had news to tell you as well but you beat me to the punch. “ Crowley slowly moved off the couch and went on bended knee. He took out a ring box and looked up at you with such affection in his eyes.

“I have been around for a long time and never have I found a true equal – a woman truly worthy of becoming my Queen, a woman as fiercely loyal, sensual, and sassy as yourself. I was wondering if you would do me the pleasure of being my wife. Perks of saying yes would be immortality. I’m not having you die on me. You say yes, it’s forever.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. A thousand times YES.”

“And you will never want for anything. “

You held out your hands to pull him back on the couch. He held you and in that moment nothing else mattered. You were truly his and he was yours. You had your own fairytale ending.

“By saying yes, you’ll be my Queen and… I know I mentioned it, I just want to be sure…”

“I’m not dense, Crowley. I know who you are and I love you. I’m not largely demon friendly, of course, so maybe not a fan of ruling per se, but being involved in some Queenly duties would be OK with me.

“Whatever my Queen wishes.”

“I could get used to that.”

“So could I.”

You dramatically pulled out your phone and showed it to Crowley.

“Let’s tell my brothers. I kind of wanted you to be here when I did that. I expect a major blowout from Dean.” Crowley put his arm around you and pulled you closer to him while you made the fateful phone call only to get Dean’s answering machine.

“How very anticlimactic.”

“His machine?”

“Yeppers. Hey, Winchesters, I have some great news and I thought, who better to tell than my big brothers? I’m having Crowley’s baby.”

“And we’re getting married, “ Crowley added.

You clicked the hang-up button.

“You know when the baby is born, there won’t be a lot of time to…”

Crowley smiled and snapped both of your clothes off, carrying you gently to your shared bedroom. You completely ignored the several calls Dean made back to you. Boy, would there be hell to pay!

#crowley #crowley fanfic #crowley fanfiction #crowley erotiva #crowley x reader

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