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forasecondtherewedwon · 2 months

Note

You tired of seeing me your inbox yet? 🥲❤️ please do tell me if the third Buck/Bucky prompt in a row is too much, I’d hate to ask for something you ain’t feeling and to impose.

But, if you are so inclined I like the idea of what your writing magic could conjure up with:

12. Cloying sweetness on the back of your tongue or/and 26. The smell of Cologne/Perfume on warm skin

Thanks in advance once again, for real.

little fix

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairing: Gale "Buck" Cleven x John "Bucky" Egan Rating: E Word Count: 2778

Summary: Gale dabbed on extra cologne in preparation for the many, many hours he knew he'd be spending in the cockpit. Once in Algeria, the heat reinvigorates the scent, and John notices. Gale kinda likes that he does.

Algeria, and the heat rose shimmering from the dusty earth as well as radiating down from the white-hot marble of the sun. The temperature in combination with the losses they’d suffered in enemy airspace had the boys hankering to go off on their own. Limited shade had snaffled those plans, forcing them together.

Gale grabbed the dog tags hanging from his neck, tossing them aside so they flicked around and hung down his back instead, the hot chains tracing a fine, burning line across his throat. He hated waiting. Then he felt bad about that, since this baking purgatory was better than death. He knew how to manage the heat, how to move slowly, how to soak the shirt of his uniform and put it on his head so his vision wouldn’t swim in this dry desert pool. Still, he was irritable, feeling useless. What he really hated was circumstances beyond his control telling him to stop—making him stop. He felt pressed beneath the world’s sweaty palm. It was pointless to wriggle. That wouldn’t get him free.

He stood by his plane, resisting the urge to reach up and lean, as it would’ve meant placing his hand on the burning wing. To occupy his restless hands, he plucked the tank from his chest and flapped it to simulate a breeze that just wasn’t there. He was watching John amble past when his friend stopped abruptly, as if called to attention. John’s head whipped around to face his way. His dog tags glinted. His eyebrows drew together above his sunglasses.

When Gale lazily lifted his hand in greeting, John ignored it, continuing on. Well. Sound seemed muffled to Gale in the heat; he couldn’t hear what John was saying to the boys, but they shifted into halting motion, congregating a hundred yards off. John sauntered back his way.

“You givin’ orders now, Major?” Gale lobbed.

He studied John’s mouth, which twitched and pinched, fighting some smartass comeback. He wondered whether John had just contained an order for him.

“Just keepin’ ’em sharp while we wait for the twelfth,” John said, joining him by the wing. He stopped, pushed his sunglasses up his forehead, and squinted around. “You know you’re not in the shade, right?”

“I won’t feel any real relief until we’re back in the air,” Gale confessed.

He probably should’ve stepped out of the sun though; he could feel the sweat rolling down his skin. Releasing a puff of breath to ready himself for movement, Gale swiftly peeled the damp cotton tank from his skin and let it fall to the ground.

From John, there came a sound like a groan that rippled into a short cough. Gale looked at him askance.

“You smell,” John explained bluntly, before dropping the glasses back over his eyes.

Gale stared at him in numb disbelief.

“You really gonna—”

“No,” John said, cutting across Gale’s retort, “you smell good.”

“Alright,” Gale replied simply.

But he’d felt something at John’s surprising response—a kind of tingle up his back. Refreshing.

“It’s cologne,” he added, when John continued to stand next to him in silence. “I knew I’d be sittin’ in that cockpit a long time, and I didn’t want to smell like I had. Spare my boys’ noses.”

“What’d you do? Bathe in it before we left the base?” John rocked towards him, just a little. His chin tilted up and Gale knew John was inhaling. He was being breathed in.

“Too strong?”

“Nah, I’m just surprised I can still smell it. Seems like England was forever ago.”

Gale shook his head to indicate he didn’t have an answer.

“Must be the heat,” he offered, because that seemed as good as anything.

“Right.”

John stood there another minute, hands on his hips. Sunlight flared off his sunglasses and Gale couldn’t tell whether or not John was staring at him. He glanced towards the men. They were awfully far off, comparing logs, by the looks of it.

“You want help checkin’ your ship?” John proposed.

Gale shot him a quizzical look. Checking his ship? What, had Lemmons taught John some secret fix Gale didn’t know about? He doubted it. John’s hands moved, thumbs tucked into the waist of his pants as they slid towards his fly, palms settling on his hipbones. The triangle made by his index fingers drew the eye. Yeah, Gale doubted it very much.

He heaved on the hatch and offered, “After you.”

John’s mouth stretched into a thin, dangerous smile, and he hauled himself up into the plane. Gale followed.

The air inside was hot and dense, making him immediately lightheaded. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the interior, adding to his disorientation. There was John, removing his sunglasses and casting them aside at the navigator’s station. Careful, Gale wanted to caution. You’ll need those again. But not inside, not in here. He smirked as John suddenly tried to play it cool, scanning his eyes unseeingly across a chart. Gale reached up and braced his palms overhead, just to wait John out, but when John turned, he knew he’d caught the scent of the cologne again. Mostly because John went, “Oh, god,” and swept his gaze down Gale’s body.

Gale was already growing hard when he advanced on John, planting a hand on his chest and shoving him into the navigator’s seat.

“Not sure it’ll hold us both,” he muttered, but John’s hands were on the back of his thighs, and hell, it wasn’t like this wasn’t exactly what Gale’d planned to do.

He straddled John, sinking onto his lap. As soon as he was close enough, John had his nose thrust against the middle of his chest, breathing deeply. Gale prided himself on his ability to maintain his composure, but he couldn’t have denied the broken groan that left him when John’s tongue lapped a wet line up his skin. John exhaled, making the air on the licked strip feel almost cool.

“Can taste it,” John muttered against him. “Sweet, salty.”

Gale grasped John firmly by the chin and raised his face.

“Lemme see,” he said, eyelids lowering as he stared at John’s mouth.

Before he felt John’s lips, he felt his tongue, pressed flat and slick as it stroked across his own. Gale rubbed his hand along John’s unshaven jawline, fingers on its hinge as John opened his mouth wide and Gale went on the offensive. Instinctively, he shifted forward on John’s thighs. John’s hands kneaded down his back before landing on his ass and attempting to yank him even closer. Gale parted his legs a little more, feeling John’s erection, rubbing against it until John broke the kiss with a low grunt, with a hard-bitten, “Fuck, Buck.”

The sweat rolled down Gale’s spine and John wiped it back up, fingers racing to hook into the chain that still hung backwards. The slight pressure on Gale’s throat had him tipping his head back. John’s eager tongue tasted his neck, his teeth closing in a pinching bite below Gale’s jaw.

“Don’t you fuckin’ mark me,” Gale sighed out, even as his cock throbbed with a rush of blood, making him jerk against John—John, who only bit harder.

The plane was becoming a furnace as they swallowed each other’s tongues again in a probing, insistent kiss. John kept grabbing him, like somehow, he could get Gale closer. Gale was sure they were soaked in each other’s sweat, and more than sweat—John pushed a damp patch of his pants into Gale’s abdomen, his cock straining behind it to be palmed, to be sucked, to be allowed to glide over all the skin John’d licked, Gale could only assume.

Unexpectedly, John stood, bringing Gale with him, until he lowered him, huffing a breath against Gale’s cheek as his feet hit the floor and he nudged his hips into John’s. They maintained contact as they edged around each other. Finally, Gale sat, looking idly up at John. He felt a smug smile on his mouth and tapped it with his fingers.

“Get on your knees, John,” he instructed softly.

John gave him a sloppy salute and promptly followed orders.

It was a pity, Gale thought, that the navigator’s station really wasn’t made for this, that he couldn’t slump down more comfortably when John snuck his fingers behind Gale’s knees to draw his hips forward on the seat. He leaned forward, ignoring Gale’s erection, and kissed his stomach.

“Where to, Nav?” he asked.

Gale scraped his fingers into John’s hair and directed, “Due south.”

Having only been on nice dates with nice girls before the war, Gale couldn’t really wrap his head around the sight of John kneeling before him, John’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock. He groaned quietly, flexing his hand on the back of John’s head as he bobbed. John took him deep without warning; Gale felt the squeeze of his throat like a near-death experience—the pressure, the flush of heat up his already sweltering body, the darkness dancing at the edges of his vision from the intensity of the pleasure. It beat getting flakked.

Never mind the swaggering walk John’d adopted outside this plane—within it, John had one pace, and it was urgent. Gale’s hands seemed to move without his conscious thought, his fingers tightening in John’s sweat-dampened hair. He couldn’t tell whether he was demanding more or begging for a quarter John wouldn’t give. There was only his grip, John’s mouth, the vivid sound of it that hounded Gale when he shut his eyes, trying, for some reason, to last longer. The 12th could turn up at any time, but he didn’t want this to end. John had his head bowed over Gale’s lap as though in prayer and Gale liked it, liked it way too much.

When he lost himself down John’s throat, John did like they’d been trained to do with mission plans if they had to bail out: he swallowed the evidence. Gale grit his teeth together so the noise he made when he spilt couldn’t gather into a scream the boys would hear. Gradually, he went from tugging on John’s hair to stroking it, mumbling apologies that John didn’t seem to give a damn about as he stared adoringly up at Gale with a grin on his face and his cheek resting on Gale’s knee.

“Goddamn,” Gale mumbled. He rubbed a hand over his face and tucked himself back into his shorts, leaving his pants open for the moment, as though to give the heat John had fuelled a chance to escape.

Looking very proud of himself, John got to his feet. He thrust his shoulders back to stretch his back. It put his hips right in Gale’s sightline, or close enough to be no accident; visible through the khaki, his rigid length was as thick with suggestion as the unusual silence John wasn’t filling.

Languidly, Gale reached for those hips, smirking up at John as he reeled him back in. John reached behind him and took hold of the navigator’s table while Gale thwapped his belt open. Before doing more, Gale caught John’s eye. He crooked his finger beneath the hem of John’s stained tank. He dragged the material up, then leaned in and kissed him there, below his navel, the soft fuzz of hair against his lips, the heavy scent of John’s skin right under his nose.

“You’re goin’ too slow. Gonna get us busted,” John warned, but Gale heard the shimmy in his voice. It came from the tender place he wanted people to think he hadn’t been born with. Impervious all the way through, his smile the smile of a man who couldn’t be touched. And here was Gale. Touching him. He kissed him again, so light and soft, and unzipped his pants.

“It’s not your turn anymore,” Gale reminded him.

John cleared his throat as Gale took hold of his pants and shorts both, pulling them down to expose his rosy cock.

“Roger,” John acknowledged above him, like handing over control of the aircraft to the bombardier. “Your turn.”

Gale gripped his shaft, heard the panted breath.

“My turn,” he agreed.

He began with kisses that barely skimmed the skin, just to drive John wild. It gave Gale time to think, to recognize again and again that this was his best friend, that it felt right, that he’d never been so hot for anyone—nothing to do with the temperature. When he finally added his tongue to circle the head of John’s cock, John went literally weak in the knees, almost falling on Gale. To Gale, it was so incredibly attractive of John to forget how to hold himself up that he completely scrapped his tactic of leisurely, torturous attrition and opened his mouth, sucking as much of John as possible.

“God fucking—” John spat. “Son of a—”

All his curses were clipped as though punched from a machine, but when Gale hummed in enjoyment, John snarled like a big cat, low and lingering and ragged. Gale groaned with his mouth full and John slapped a hand to his naked back, drawing him close. The intimacy of the act—John’s fingers tensed between his shoulder blades, not John’s cock shuttling faster across his tongue—made Gale a little weak in the knees himself. He held John’s bared hips for strength.

“Major? Buck?”

It sounded like Douglass, shouting up to them from outside the hatch.

Gale pulled his mouth wetly from John, which left John looking like he was in no shape to deliver a rational response, even though Gale knew he’d probably try if he didn’t speak up himself.

“Sit tight, Lieutenant,” he called back. “Just got a little tinkerin’ to do on the ship.”

Sitting back, he closed his fist around John’s length and started up a smooth stroke.

“Need any help?” Douglass asked.

“Nah, just some bolts that need tightening, wheels to grease.” Gale winked at Bucky and spat into his palm before returning his grip, stroking faster.

Douglass didn’t reply and Gale felt it: the rush he associated with high-risk scenarios. Could be that Douglass would climb dutifully up through the hatch to offer a hand. He’d see John with his top pushed up, his pants dropped down, gasping and moaning as Gale disassembled him like picking the fluff from a dandelion. The both of them sweating. Gale with his feet planted wide and his hands placed for control, and yet drooling from the corner of his mouth until he picked his moment to swallow. Because John was audience enough, he did it now. There was a hiccup in the rhythm of John’s thrusting as Gale’s throat snugged around him. And then John was shoving insistently at Gale’s shoulder. Gale sat back, disgruntled, and looked up to see John’s beet-red face scrunched in concentration.

“You don’t think I can manage?” he demanded, meaning the swallowing, meaning the hot gush he’d been working himself up to feel pour down his throat. His voice sounded rough.

“I wanna see it on your chest,” John said tightly.

He took himself in hand and Gale tried his best to consume it all with his eyes: the tension in John’s features, the furious pumping of his fist, the pillowy veins that wound down John’s forearms and into the back of his hands. Gale flinched when John came—the sudden warmth of it on his skin. He could feel it sliding down, so he leaned back in the chair as much as he could to slow it. John panted above him, chest heaving, gaze fixed on the milky streaks that resembled Mustangs’ contrails, if Gale’s body were the sky.

“Satisfied?” Gale asked wryly.

John settled his stare on him, a dark, blistering blue.

“Extremely,” he said. He sighed and hung his head. “And I need water.”

Gale jerked his chin towards the hatch.

“Go. But get me somethin’ for…” He glanced from his chest to John.

“Nah, looks good.”

Gale raised his eyebrows.

“Alright,” John conceded, giving a hop as he hitched his clothes back into place. “Stay put, Buck.”

“That’s the plan.”

John patted him twice on the shoulder, then held on. He leaned down for a kiss. The prodding tip of his nose into Gale’s cheek; the enthusiastic press of his lips, full on Gale’s mouth. John straightened, collected his sunglasses, and headed for the hatch. This felt so natural to Gale already, and yet…

“I never thought we’d be here,” he admitted.

John paused, sitting at the edge of the hatch.

“Africa?” he asked facetiously.

Gale snorted. Grinning, John slid his sunglasses into place and dropped out of sight.

#thank YOU #I could never tire of you! I treasure you!#always sending me the good prompts 👌#my writing #MotA #Masters of the Air #Gale 'Buck' Cleven #John 'Bucky' Egan #James Douglass #Buck x Bucky #MotA fic

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everthewip · 8 months

Text

Prompt number: 2. "Don't worry, I got you."

Fanfiction Fandom: Valheim

Rating: G

Warnings: None, I don't think, but please let me know if there should be one.

Notes: If you've never played Valheim, taken from the wiki page... "Valheim takes place in a world where slain Vikings go to prove themselves fit for the halls of Valhalla. As one such, the player begins with nothing and soon discovers that to reach the Norse afterlife, they must defeat the evils that stalk Valheim.[5] Led only by their instincts and occasional hints from a raven,[6] the player must prepare to fight the sworn enemies of Odin himself."

They cannot agree on who landed the final blow.

“Of course it was I,” claims the one she calls Hunter. “And then I lay in a sea of my own blood, victorious to my death!”

“I was not dead yet,” she answers. “Only silent and watching you bleed.”

Hunter rolls her eyes and waves a dismissive hand. “You spend too much time watching. That is why you died, Watcher.”

“And you do not watch enough. That is why you died, Hunter.”

As they move away from the circle of Gods, their sights set on the feral wilderness around them, they fall into a tense silence.

It is an honor to be given this task by Odin.

But it was cruel of their God to pair them with their enemy.

There are moments when Watcher's instinct threatens to take over. She moves beside her greatest foe, so close in the dense forest that their arms touch. Each subtle brush makes her skin prickle, like a beast sensing a great threat. Nothing is stopping them from turning on the other, save for the will of Odin.

They need one another if they are to succeed.

It truly is a wicked purgatory.

When they encounter a forest-dweller, it is Watcher who spies it first. Ever cautious, ever keen, her eyes catch the flickering glow of the Grayling's gaze. She has barely pointed the threat out before Hunter is on it, beating the creature to death in seconds.

Perhaps this is why their God has forced them together.

Watcher, reluctantly, admits to herself that they may make good companions after-all.

At least, until Hunter loudly declares her victory and several more forest-dwellers come rushing from the shadows.

“This is your fault.”

Watcher leans against a birch tree, refusing to look at Hunter, who stands amidst a carnage of splintered wood and Grayling eyes. For once, Hunter is doing the watching, glaring at Watcher with arms crossed over her broad chest.

“It is not my fault that you are weak,” she states, nearly spitting that final word. Watcher's eyes shoot to her, narrowed and deadly, and she takes a step forward to meet the unspoken challenge.

But then her vision grows blurry. She falters and sways, the after effects of a second death – or as close to death as they are allowed in this place – and resurrection having not yet passed. Before she hits the ground, there are strong arms around her, pulling her up and holding her steady.

“Don't worry, I got you.” Hunter's voice is softer than Watcher has ever heard it before.

She loathes it.

“I am not worried,” Watcher hisses once her vision is cleared. “Let go of me!”

“Suit yourself.”

Those arms release her and once again Watcher tries to walk, only to find herself stumbling again, now without someone to catch her.

Hunter's laughter frightens the birds from the trees.

#writeblr #fictober23 #valheim fanfiction #fanfiction #2 #valheim

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chaosangel767 · 3 years

Text

Flirt War

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Asmo/ reader

Warning: NSFW - Crude Language

“Asmo get the fuck out of my room before I hang you by your balls. “ I was thoroughly annoyed by the touchy avatar of lust. He usually flirts with me and will make snide remarks, but lately it was getting out of control. He was constantly trying to touch her and flirt with the small human.

“But darling I want to cuddle before dinner,” He whined pushing his champagne colored bangs out of his face. He wrapped his arms around me and

“I need to go to the library to study with Satan and get my tasks done. Now get the heck of my room.” I release myself from his grasp, grab my bag and book it to the library. Once there I look for Satan, finding him in a niche by the fireplace.

“You're late y/n” Satan looked up at me. I sighed heavily and knelt in the chair next to him.

“Asmo hasn’t been leaving me alone lately, he has been ultra flirty and clingy and I don’t know how to handle it.”I apologize as I got my books out. The blonde demon listened to my rant before offering me some tea and snacks. We calmly started to work on our assignments and Satan worked to show me demonology and chemistry, it was such a calm few hours before dinner. There was a spell on the library so that it blocked out the noises of the rest of the house. It was my favorite place to be, no Mammon to cling to me or Asmo to flirt. These brothers are so chaotic.

“Yn it's time to get ready for dinner.” Satan said softly as I worked on Chemistry. I groan softly not wanting to move and face the brothers.

“Uuuugh time to go back to the chaos and Asmo’s pick up lines.” I groan picking up my stuff.

“You should stop taking his shit, just back sass him like you do everyone else” Satan advises with a smirk. He knows how sassy I can be when I am in a bad mood. I nod at him and leave the library before going to my room to get ready. It was Beel’s night to cook so I know to make it quick so there’s food left. I showered and changed from my RAD uniform to a f/c t-shirt dress and flats. A large black belt went around my waist and I threw my h/l h/c in a ponytail. I walked don to dinner seeing everyone but Mammon there. Solomon sat next to Asmo since they had been working on a project together. I sighed and braced myself for the pickup lines. I sat down just in time to hear.

“Oh y/n that’s such a cute dress, it would look amazing on my floor.” Asmo complimented with a smirk. I saw Mammon start to get angry at his comment.

“I actually think it would look better shoved in your windpipe.” I replied before taking food and looking at Mammon's dropped jaw. He blushed and looked away. Solomon was trying not to laugh.

“ Well damn y/n I just googled “sexy” and a pic of you just came up.” Asmo pressed on, giving me his charming smile.

“Well you’ll get the same result if you google “not interested” I replied breaking our eye contact. Mammon snorted next to me and I met Satan's mischievous eyes. Solomon started choking on his food. After a few minutes he cleared his throat and I looked over.

“ Y/n there is something wrong with my eyes, I can’t take them off of you. “Solomon's smooth voice met my ears. I looked up and met his eyes, I snorted.

“I’m having issues with mine too Solomon, I can’t see you getting anywhere with me.” I replied already tired of this nonsense. Everyone but Beel had caught what was going on and they wanted to see what would happen next, Beel was just eating his food and looking confused. I glared at Asmo and Solomon and they were looking at each other, trying to plan what was going to happen next. I looked over at Satan who was smirking at me, pride in his eyes at the flustered look on Solomon and Asmo's face.

“Hey Y/n” Asmo asked me, I looked over at him and raised my eyebrow.

“Yes Asmo ”I replied uncertainly, everyone was listening to what was going to happen next.

“I don’t have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out.” He asked innocently as he grabbed a roll from the table.

“Asmo honey, didn’t you know I’m a best seller? I’m currently unavailable.” I replied sweetly as I hear Satan cough and hide his smirk, Lucifer had his mouth open. I raised an eyebrow at the two troublemakers and waited for the next line to come out their mouth confident and revenge fresh on my tongue. Solomon kept his eyes on me while Asmo looked down at his plate. After a few moments of silence.

“Y/n my dear, if I said you have a beautiful body will you hold it against me?” Solomon raised his eyebrows at me suggestively and I roll my eyes. I heard Mammon and Levi next to me getting angry. Beel is starting to blush at all the innuendos finally realizing what is going on.

“Solomon if I said I wanted to check out your ass, would you turn around and walk away? I asked in response, raising my eyebrows in question. Lucifer took that moment to clear his throat.

“Solomon, Simeon texted me to tell you he needs help at purgatory. One of your spells got spilled. '' Lucifer informed him and Solomon went wide eyed before he got up. He said a quick goodbye before he walked out swaying his hips a little. I rolled my eyes as Mammon put his hands over my eyes.

“Don’t look y/n” he told me. I snorted

“Mammon, the avatar of lust can’t charm me, you really think a human ass is going to?” I asked, turning and looking at him, my eyebrows raised. Mammon started to stutter while Levi and Satan started to laugh.

“Hey Y/n wanna hear a joke about my dick?” I raised my eyes at the sudden words. Levi coughed next to me. “Nevermind it's too long” Asmo winked in my direction. I snorted at him

“Hey Asmo you wanna hear a joke about my vagina? Nevermind your never going to get it.” I winked back at him as Mammon started to choke on his dinner.

“ But Y/n I want to give myself to you?” Asmo whined, I could tell he was reaching his breaking point. I was getting tired of the constant pickup lines and the flirting. If Asmo could settle down I would go with him in a heartbeat, but he can’t settle down and I am not a plaything, or a prize for Solomon and Asmo to win.

“ Sorry Asmo I don’t accept used gifts” I replied without missing a beat. I saw his face fall a little, as he seemed stumped. Lucifer shot me a warning look and I put my hands up. I was just replying to Asmo’s advances. Thankfully I was done eating and decided to flee before Asmo came up with more. I had temporarily stumped him and deflated his ego a little. Taking the small victory I stood up.

“Alright guys, I am heading to my room. I need to finish some work so please leave me alone.” I rose from the table and walked around to where Asmo was sitting. I smirked and leaned down next to him. “ your face would look better with my legs wrapped around it” I whispered slyly in his ear. I watched his jaw drop as I winked and walked up to my room, listening to Levi and Mammon start to protest and get upset. I hear Satan laughing at Asmo’s face. Oh I’m going to pay for that later. But this small victory was so worth it.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x mc #Solomon and Asmo trouble #Reasons why Satan shouldn't give advice

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sharkfish · 3 years

Text

love ‘em, can’t live without ‘em: early-career writers!

[masterpost of rec lists]

new content creators are the lifeblood of fandom, so here i present stories by folks who have five or less destiel fics published (...so far) as of december 2020!!!

please give them some love!!!

under the cut since it got long~

the burden of belonging by Newtondale @soft-klaus (8k)

Dean doesn't know where he's going, he just drives.

He meanders. Takes whatever road he wants without worrying about efficiency or speed. He watches the landscape change around him as he heads east, towards the sea. Sometimes he listens to music, and sometimes he doesn’t. Most of the time he just thinks, the way he has always thought best; with an open road ahead and horror close behind.

Cas always comes back to him. Cas has always come back. Whether it takes minutes, or weeks, or months - Cas comes back to him.

But Cas hasn’t come back. How much longer is supposed to wait? Minutes? Months? How long is he supposed to live like this, like there’s nothing else that matters except the space beside him where Cas should be?

So he just drives.

Dean Winchester’s 12-Step Guide to Inebriated Online Retail Therapy for Fallen Angels and Judgemental Brothers With Bad Hair (Suck It, Sammy) by justholdingstill @justholdingstill (3k)

Alternatively titled Dean Wayne: The Life & Legend

Dean gets drunk. Dean orders things online. Hilarity ensues.

Hang-Ups by anupalya @anupalya (2k)

A slip of the tongue while hanging up a zoom meeting with Castiel leaves Dean in a panic.

****

Jsksdjdjskal

I'm starting to think you're letting Blueberry walk over your keyboard again.

i'm moving to Thailand

?????

I have to

Dean

I have no choice

... so I take it the meeting went well?

dream root & fumbling through the darkness by visionsofyerface @omnishamblegreg (1.3k)

Dean takes dream root for some fun angsty wanderings into Cas’s head, and then actually goes to the Empty, but Cas doesn't believe it's really him.

How Long? by MinxyOne93 @substitutesalt93 (WIP - 37k)

Dean has been going on reckless hunts by himself. Cas confronts him and all those years of unresolved pining come to a boiling point.

"Dean. How long?" The angel said, still quiet but so raw with emotion, eyes still wide with shock.

Dean looked down at the floor and sighed. "Since... always. I knew it for sure in Purgatory. But always." He then added in a near whisper, tears threatening to spill from behind his now closed eyelids, "I'm sorry, Cas."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" Castiel felt dumbfounded. The constant loneliness and longing he had sensed from Dean that seemed to grow worse and worse with the passing of years made so much more sense now.

"Dean," was all Cas could say before releasing his grip on his collar and gently, slowly, deliberately, kissing the corner of his mouth. A shocked gasp left Dean’s mouth of its own accord and he melted into Castiel's tight embrace.

It's The Thought That Counts by oceaxe @oceaxe-ifdawn (3k)

It’s Dean’s birthday and while angels have no birthdays, Castiel has a) been around human cultures for long enough to be aware of the nearly universal customs of celebrating the anniversary of a loved one’s birth and b) has been living with humans for long enough that he’s been included in some of those celebrations. But the art of gift-giving continues to elude his comprehension.

Lucky Winner by natmoose @natmoose (32k)

Dean wins a trip to Paris. In and of itself, that’s an amazing thing, but the problem is: he isn’t in a relationship with Lisa anymore, and the trip requires a romantic partner. The obvious choice is Cas, his roommate and best friend of 3 years, but coming with that are some very very complicated feelings and things Dean absolutely doesn’t want to deal with.

But Dean isn’t selfish and also really wants to give his overworked best friend a well deserved holiday, so the only and best solution is to take Cas to Paris, romantic theme be damned. What Dean doesn’t know is that their whole trip will be documented by a photographer from the company - so to avoid their vacation being cut short, Dean and Cas will have to convincingly play a couple.

Once Upon a Falling Star by GrandestBlood @grumpy-mccat (WIP - 3k)

Alternate outcome for season 5's Endverse where Castiel never lost his grace but he was tricked to retreat back to heaven with the other angels, leaving Dean behind in the refugee camp.

Prompt for this was: The world has ended 500 years ago. You finally went back to Earth and discovered a voice message. You learn a shocking secret about 500 years ago.

Sending A Message by ivebeenpossessedbysatan @ivebeenpossessedbysatan (WIP - 15k)

Castiel Novak didn't expect to be kidnapped. Sure, he'd seen it happen before, but that was all in movies. Just because his mother had married into money didn't mean that someone was actually going to kidnap him and try to ransom him for money.

Only apparently it did, because here he was, tied to a chair in the corner of the most cliché warehouse he'd ever seen.

Why was this is life?

so leave me // at the roadside by LinkInThePark @saminzat (3k)

”This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone out on his own at all, but he was tired of sitting around in the bunker, where the walls seemed to close in on him and the halls were too empty at the same time. Where everything reminded him of what had happened, of the battles they had fought and the people they had lost.

Of the words left unsaid.”

Dean is taking the Impala on a ride, trying to escape everything that's happened... And, in the process, is finally forced to confront his grief. 15x19 coda.

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, but Words Might Get Me Laid by Mrs King of Hell (Slytherkins) @slytherkins (3k)

When Dean's name calling goes too far, Castiel decides to teach him a lesson in manners.

"Take a Sad Song and Make it Better" by Shishquah_CustardTree @shishquahcustardtree (WIP - 27k)

After being bought and abused by Alistair for many years, Dean Winchester finally gets another chance at life and love by the means of a car crash and a bullet.

The One (1) Time Dean Winchester Tried Something New by archangelgabe @3dg310rdsupreme (2k)

What fun is a relationship that doesn't start with the gross misunderstanding that your crush is hitting on your kid brother?

The one where they get heaven-married by mercurialkitty @mercurialkitty (1.3k)

First a quick chat with Sam in the Impala, then it's off to find Cas.

A finale fix-it where Dean and Cas get heaven-married

There'll Be Peace When You Are Done by diaryofageekgirl @diaryofageekgirl (5k)

Somehow, in the middle of severing vamp necks in the dead of night in a run-down barn in Ohio, Dean had a revelation.

Or: nothing stays dead on Supernatural.

This is heaven by madbrilliant84 @madbrilliant84 (800)

“Come on dude! Don’t tell me you don’t know what your legs look like! I bet you could crush melons with those.”

Cas seemed incredibly amused by this. “And that’s something that turns you on?”

Dean smiled while biting is bottom lip. He slowly nodded. His playful tone dropped to something more heated.

“Uh huh. First thing I noticed when I saw you sitting on that bar stool.”

You're Not Alone by Wordsintothevoid @deancas-stan (15k)

Dean has an imaginary friend. Sure, that's weird as hell but he doesn't care. Cas has been there to support him during every horrible thing in Dean's short miserable life and he is not giving up Cas. Sure, Dean may also sorta kinda be in love with him. Oops. And it hurts but Dean will keep it platonic. But then Cas leaves. And then Dean breaks.

We’ll All Arrive in Heaven Alive by invisibledrugs @reasonsweweresinging (1k)

The Winchesters are finally dying, and for good.

But that's okay, because Dean knows what - and who - is waiting for him.

last but definitely not least, @uncastiel doesn’t have any fics yet but is taking prompts!

#sharklist #destiel #rec list

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fierysafrina · 3 years

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Worst in me | Simeon x f!reader

Fandom: Obey Me Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.350 Genre: Slice of Life | Romance | Fluff | Smut Additional tags: Body worshipping | Blowjob | lots of kisses asdfghjkl | Biting | Praise kink | Handjob | Fingering | Dirty talk Summary: Simeon sees you in your underwear by pure accident. His impure thoughts and heart want to lead him on, while his mind is telling him to keep away from you. Notes: asdfghjkl is it obvious that I have a princess kink? If someone ever calls me princess or good girl I’m def just gonna melt right in that spot like yes please keep calling me that. But yes! I’m actually surprised I managed to write and end this right on Simeon’s birthday hahah imma just leave this here ‘cause I’m melting just at the thought of reading this alone asdfghjkl so fluffy, so smutty aaah I’m so proud of how it turned out, so I hope you guys will also like it ♡♡

The door to your room is slightly ajar. There’s no one in the house, except for you. Simeon knows that because the brothers have their own work to do and it seems like you need his help, to be exact, for something.

The moment he’s about to knock on the door, he sees your back through the opening. He blinks, his eyes unconsciously looking you up and down before they widen.

You’re standing by your bed, back towards the door, in nothing but your panties and a bra. Simeon gulps as his eyes rave over your exposed skin, lingering on the curves of your body before his eyes fall on what you’re holding in your hands. It’s a black lace bralette and he wonders how it would look on you. He notices a red one on your bed and takes a step back. His pants become a bit tighter and he gulps. It worsens when you lean down and Simeon wants nothing more but to walk in, bend you over as his hands grasps your hair, pull your head back, and take you from behind.

Simeon wonders if you’re doing this on purpose, but when he hears you hum, he’s certain you’re not. Feeling ashamed of the thoughts and emotions that suddenly overwhelmed him, he turns around and leaves, completely oblivious to a not-so-innocent smile that spreads across your lips.

Simeon is avoiding you. You’re hundred percent sure that he’s avoiding you, because every time you call for him he stills before he disappears. Or comes up with a much too believable excuse that you can’t call him out on it. Thinking of having alone time with him? Not a chance.

Now you wouldn’t have paid much attention to it, but you feel bad for teasing him like that. If only slightly.

You’re pouting when Asmodeus sits beside you, a much well-knowing look on his face. He’s smiling at you ever so sweetly and you’re hardly resisting to roll your eyes. “What is it?” you decide to break the silence and his smile widens.

“I know what you’re up to.” He says and you raise an eyebrow. “But he will never take the lead. Not when he thinks you did it unknowingly.”

Your pout resurfaces and you cross your arms, looking away.

“Let me help you.” Asmodeus says as he leans down on your desk, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “The last thing I need is having a possessed angel on me. You’re gonna take it too far.”

“Aw, you wound me!” he places hand over his chest, his expression crest-fallen at your obvious doubt. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” Is what you want to say, but how can you say that to those big bright eyes of his that make you succumb much too easily than you want to.

It seems like Asmodeus knows he won, because in the next moment, he’s standing up before he leans down, his lips just inches from your ear. His voice is nothing but a whisper and his warm breath sends shivers down your spine when he says; “Leave it to me, love. I’ll make it the best time for you.”

He’s walking away, when you call for him; “Asmo,” He’s turning around, a playful smirk on his lips. “If he doesn’t want to, leave it alone.”

Asmodeus seems to think about it, but he nods a moment later. “Of course, dear.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” He nods and there’s an unsettling feeling that spreads inside you that disappears the moment your eyes meet with Simeon, who walks inside.

Simeon’s eyes widen when he catches you staring and you expect him to bolt. But he doesn’t. Instead his expression softens and before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, smiling. It almost seems like what happened last week didn’t happen at all.

“Done avoiding me?” you can’t help but to ask.

Simeon chuckles. “I wasn’t avoiding you.” He says and you raise an eyebrow. “I’m wondering if you have time this Saturday?”

You tilt your head to the side. “I do. Why?”

“Can you come to the Purgatory Hall?” he’s smiling at you and somehow it’s starting to unnerve you. “There’s something I wish … to ask you.”

You blink in confusion, but nod. “Of course. I-I’ll come.” You’re confused by what he wants and Simeon knows, because in the next moment he’s taking a hold of your hand and kissing the top of your knuckles, his eyes never straying from yours.

You feel your cheeks heat up, obviously embarrassed by the affection he’s showing you, yet it seems like Simeon doesn’t mind one bit. It feels much more intimate than usually and it makes you wonder how his lips would feel anywhere on your body.

It’s Saturday afternoon and you’re meddling with your fingers, standing in front of the Purgatory Hall. There’s not a single soul around and you realize that Solomon and Luke must not be at the dorm. You wonder where they went, but then again it also confuses you because neither of the brothers questioned you leaving. Perhaps Asmodeus told them of the plans or maybe Simeon did. Either it was, it would be almost impossible to get Lucifer’s agreement. Unless they came up with an excuse that satisfies Lucifer’s curiosity.

“Why are you waiting outside?”

You startle at Simeon’s voice that’s coming from beside you and you turn to look at the angel. He’s smiling gently and it sends shivers down your spine. You wonder what he’s up to.

“I was-I was just about to call for you.” You lie and smile in return.

“Of course,” Simeon nods and passes you to reach for the doorknob. He opens the door and steps aside to let you walk in first. You do and you don’t miss the subtle touch of his palm on the low of your back.

It feels tingly and it makes your stomach flutter. Your cheeks and the tip of your ears are suddenly warm and you wonder if he’s going to retract his hand, but he doesn’t. Instead his hand is completely on your lower back as the two of you walk upstairs and towards his room. His touch is lingering and you want more of it.

Once inside, you began to look around, eyes gazing once in a while at Simeon, who seems to completely ignore you by walking towards a table, placing the bag on it. You nibble on your lower lip, too embarrassed at the sudden thoughts and you shake your head to get rid of them.

You hear a chuckle and look at Simeon, who’s looking at you. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks and approaches you. He raises his hand and touches your cheek, his touch gentle and feather-like. You unconsciously close your eyes and lean into it, wanting, needing more.

“This is bad…” Simeon murmurs and you open your eyes to look at him only to close them again for his lips are pressed on yours. The kiss is soft and gentle, it isn’t rushed. His hand disappears into your hair and he tugs on it while his other rests on your hip.

You release a sound that makes you warm from embarrassment, but also needy for more, because Simeon is guiding you backwards. He’s unbuttoning your blouse and discarding it onto the floor before he moves onto your jeans. You follow suit, but you begin to struggle almost immediately by the turtleneck he’s wearing. You groan into the kiss and Simeon chuckles.

“So needy, aren’t we?” He rests his forehead on yours, eyes gazing down at you. They’re full of warmth and something far more sinister that’s very known to you.

“I want you.” You murmur against his lips.

“I’ve noticed.” He teases you and you groan, tugging on his turtleneck, whining in the process.

“Please…” you look back into his eyes, pleading with him and Simeon gasps.

His lips are back on yours and you’re tearing apart his turtleneck instead, his cape long forgotten on the floor, his pants soon following. He pulls away, holding you by your upper arms, his eyes shut. He’s panting, as are you, and you look at him confused, because why did he stop? Just when it was getting so good.

“Simeon?” You call quietly.

His eyes meet yours and you realize he’s holding back instead.

“Don’t,” you cup your cheeks, a smile on your lips. “I want this. I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

His eyes widen before his expression softens. His gaze trails down and he groans when he sees you wearing a navy blue lace bralette and matching panties. His grip on your arms tightens.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers instead and leans down. His lips ghost on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling you.

Your fingers go through his hair, unconsciously tugging on it when he begins to leave open kisses in its wake. His hands slide down your arms, falling on your hips as he starts to guide you towards his bed once again. Your eyes are shut only to open them when you fall on your back.

Your chest is heaving and it takes everything in Simeon to keep sane and take you as you should be taken. He wants to ravage you, but he also wants to tease you to your wits, because that is what you’ve been doing lately. You’ve been teasing him from small, feather-like touches to the actions that made him want to take you in that same moment.

But he decides against it.

You’re moving further onto the bed and Simeon follows you, hovering over you. His eyes gaze down at your curves, biting his lower lip between his teeth as his hands twitch. He wants to tear down that bralette and panties and is hardly resisting it.

“Beautiful…” he murmurs, his fingers on your collarbone. They trail down between the valley of your breasts and you shiver, unconsciously closing your eyes.

“Am not…” you hear yourself speak unknowingly as you turn your head.

Simeon’s eyes widen surprised by your words. “You are.” He’s confident in what he’s saying and your heart flutters at his words. “Every time I see you, I cannot help but marvel at your beauty. Your hands,” He holds your hands, fingers intertwining; “they fit mine perfectly.” He smiles and your cheeks heat up as you watch him. “Your body,” he continues, his other, free hand tracing down your sides. He spots a couple of stretch marks and he traces them down; “so unique, so beautiful…”

You feel eyes tearing up, unable to say anything.

Leaning down, Simeon begins to pepper you with kisses on stretch marks. He takes his time before he trails just beneath the lacy bralette, nibbling on your soft skin. Your back arches into his touch, fingers cascading into his dark hair. A moan slips through your lips as he releases your hand and trails it down to your thigh and grips it.

“Simeon …” you breathe out when he trails back down to your belly button. “P-please…” you chuckle at the tickling sensation.

You can feel him smile, but he doesn’t stop. He continues his way until he reaches the waistband of your panties that makes you still. He notices and looks at you only to see you hiding behind hands.

“Don’t hide.” he murmurs and bites down on your skin. You yelp, shooting him a half glare that makes him chuckle. “Don’t hide from me, princess.”

“B-but—” You try to reason, but before you can form a full sentence, you gasp when you feel his finger over your clothed slit.

“Will you be good for me and not hide?”

“Y-yes…” you nod.

A smile spreads across his lips as he leans down and kisses you the moment he pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger inside. You gasp into the kiss at his cold touch and he takes the chance to deepen it, his tongue protruding into your mouth.

Before you know and realize it, you’re panting into the kiss, holding onto his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“So beautiful,” he whispers as he watches your expression in amazement. You can’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting to hide, but you know he doesn’t like it when you do. Instead, you continue looking at him even as you come undone around his fingers. He’s kissing you all over your face—your cheeks, nose, forehead and the corner of your lips and it makes you feel all more warm and needy for more.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, “you’re doing so well. Such a good girl.”

Your eyes burn from unshed tears as you come down from your high. You feel so unsure with his praises, so weak against them.

“Can you go one more time?” His voice is silent and you nod, although weakly. Simeon smiles at you as he leans down to kiss you on your lips. You don’t hesitate to return it.

You feel him shuffle above you, moving before he pulls away. He tugs down at your panties and you realize his underwear is already gone. The tip of his cock is already leaking as it stands against his stomach. You bite your lower lip, seeing the veins on his shaft, wondering how he would fit you. While he was more on an average side, he was still slightly bigger.

“How-how do you want to?” You can’t help the stutter as you look Simeon back into his eyes.

“I want to see you.” He reaches his hand out to touch your cheek while with the other he pumps his cock. He groans at the sight when he parts your lips with his thumb, pressing it down on your tongue. “I wonder how you’d look with my cock in your mouth.” He wonders aloud and you feel ashamed at how turned on you feel.

“But that’s for the next time.” He says a second later. He holds you for your thighs and pulls you closer to him. It all seems so easy to him and you wonder just how strong he truly is, yet before you can think it any further, he’s positioning himself, the tip of his cock sliding up and down your slit.

“S-shit,” you curse and want to move, but his hold on you is strong. “P-please, Simeon, I can’t take it any longer…” you plead and with one swift move, he slides inside.

You part your lips, silent and quick gasps leaving you as you try to adjust to him while Simeon rests his forehead on yours.

“It’s okay,” he whispers and kisses you on cheek when a tear streams down your cheek. “You’re doing so well.” He’s praising you and he groans when he feels your walls clench around him. “Such a greedy princess, aren’t you?” he chuckles as he moves back out before pushing in again.

You don’t try to hide the moans that spill from your lips. You wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his back as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Simeon curses as his pace becomes faster, rougher. He’s holding you against him, then onto the bed as he rocks into you, pleasure overtaking him completely. He’s losing himself into it as much as you are that neither of you care at the marks you are leaving on each other.

“You feel so good.” Simeon pants; “So-so good. So tight, just mine, mine alone, aren’t you? Tell me, princess, tell me—tell me you’re mine.”

“Yours!” You moan. “I-I’m yours…” you bite down onto his shoulder, feeling as you reach the peak. “F-fuck, S-Simeon, please-more-gimme more, more, mo-ah!”

You arch your back when one of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb circling on your clit. No soon you come undone and with your walls clenching on Simeon’s cock he follows not too long after. You’re both panting, your breaths mixing before he’s kissing you like his life is depending on it.

“That,” you start when Simeon pulls out and lays beside you; “was amazing.”

Simeon chuckles. He stands from bed and you raise an eyebrow in wonder at what he’s up to. “I’m going to get a warm cloth to wash you.”

Your cheeks are burning and you turn on your side as Simeon laughs at your reaction, trying hard not to wince at the pain in your lower parts. You watch him leave the room and notice the dark marks that only make your cheek hotter at the revelation that you were the one to give them to him.

When Simeon returns, holding a cloth in his hand, he’s still naked and you wonder if he feels embarrassed by it. You don’t have the courage to ask him and before you even could, he’s already cleaning you. His touch is gentle and slow and you moan at the sensation. He brushes hair from your forehead and kisses you on the crown of your head.

“Simeon…” you moan his name and through half-lidded eyes look at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grumbles. “I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

You glance down at his cock that twitches and reach for it. He gasps at your touch and closes his eyes, stopping his movement. If you didn’t see him gripping the cloth tighter, you would cease the movement, but it only made you bolder. You’re shifting on the bed, so you’re kneeling in front of him.

Simeon’s blue eyes are watching each and every movement of yours. The cloth he was holding fell on the bed, his fingers going through your hair and gripping it tight in his hold. “Princess…” he groans, his teeth clenching together.

You smile and before he can say another word, you take the tip of his cock into your mouth. His eyes flutter shut, a content sigh escaping your lips. You moan around his cock as you take him deeper. Your hands grip on his waist as you still your movement, but it’s Simeon that holds onto your hair and makes you move. You look up at him only to see him already staring down at you.

Simeon gulps as he watches you bob your head and what you could get into your mouth to fondle with your hand instead. “Fuck…” he curses and leans his head back. “Keep doing that.” he murmurs when you pull back to twirl your tongue around his tip before you take him back in.

You pull one hand away and dip it between your thighs, circling at your clit. You moan as you’re taking yourself closer to the peak. Pulling away from his cock, you began to kiss his shaft and lick it beneath as you fondle his balls. It seemed to catch him off guard as he grunts and releases his cum into your hair and on your face.

You blink with your eyes, and look at Simeon, who seems embarrassed. With a chuckle, you pull away and straighten so you’re at similar height to his.

“I think I’m gonna need a shower.” You say as you wipe his come with your hand and then lick it off.

His eyes never trail from your movement and he groans. “You’re really bad, you know?” he wraps one arm around your back while with the other he sweeps you off the bed, holding you in his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling. “I’ve heard that a couple of times already.”

Simeon shakes his head, a smile giving him away. “You need a bath and not a shower.”

“Oh, are you joining me?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Someone needs to clean you.”

“Yes indeed,” You agree, a frown on your face; “after all, I don’t think I have enough strength at the moment.”

Simeon laughs at your reason. “Do not blame me if you cannot walk tomorrow.”

“Oh,” your cheeks heat up. “Is that a threat?”

He looks into your eyes, the corners of his lips turning into a smirk. “A promise.”

#guys i'm MELTING #i love this one so much omg #i actualy love how it turned out #Simeon #Obey Me! shall we date #safrinawrites #oneshot #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me! swd #smut #Obey Me oneshot #fanfic #obey me fanfic #aesthetic

79 notes · View notes

mayonnaisetoffees · 3 years

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Mayo's Fic Recs

List of my favourite fics below the cut; this list is a WIP and completely personal taste; a mix of fandom classics and lesser knowns

Please remember to leave comments and kudos for the authors and podficcers!

*shows particular favourites

Fandoms currently included: Spn, Merlin, Les Mis, BatFam

Fics That Changed Me Fundamentally

Loaded March*** by Footloose. Merlin | E | 1.26M(Series)/ 35k (First part) | 188k hits (First part)

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can’t keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn’t good enough, either. Except he is.

You can read all about my thoughts on Loaded March here, here, and here. Basically this fic series is beautifully written, has absolutely delicious UST, has found family, magic, and high stakes. It’s been part of my life for almost a decade now, I made friends through LM that I still have to this day, and it genuinely changed me as a person. Plus there are 78k of Extras to itch that I Finished Now What scratch. Parts 1-5 have been podficced and you can find them in works inspired by this one in each part.

Down to Agincourt*** by Seperis. Supernatural | E | 1.12M(Series)/ 154k (First part) | 73k hits (First part)

The world’s already over and they’re already dead. All they’re doing now is marking time until the end.

S7!Dean is transported back to the aftermath of where 5x04 The End left off. Much like LM, DtA was one that I avoided for a while. I didn’t think it would be my thing. I’m not usually into End!verse, it sounded so bleak from the summary, and it sounded so long for something I wasn’t sure about. If you’re reading this and nodding along? You are as much a fool as I was. Yes, it’s the end of the world. But it’s not over yet. This is a beautiful journey in what it means to be yourself, how to survive the end of the world, a How-To for Coups, and a study in food as a love language. I only read this fic this year, but like LM, it has genuinely changed me. Map of the World has been podficced.

Supernatural

Let’s start with the current hyperfixation. All of these are at least passively Dean/Cas unless otherwise stated. I've split into ones from my first time around in the SPN fandom and more recent ones because the vibes are actually really different and it took me some time to adjust (Not in a bad way! In a time has passed they have grown as characters way)

Old-School SPN (AKA the Classics my first time around)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Home in Motion* by nomdeplume13 M | 232k | 48k hits

Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed Dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.

Did someone say kid!fic in canonverse? This is perfect. Canon divergence from the end of S6. Cas saves a baby from a neglectful mother and gives him to Dean to raise. They all move in with Bobby. Great OCs. Bobby considers Cas his son. Listen everything I say here will not be able to begin to encompass how much I love this fic. Just trust me on this one.

Named* by RC_McLachlan M | 95k | 95k hits

Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.

With a summary like that, need I say more? No but I'm gonna. This is one of the funniest fics I've ever read, but it doesn't take any emotion from the serious moments, if anything it heightens them. There are so many quotes from this I think about all the time. It was written in 2010 and so there's a bit of misogyny/character assassination of Anna in places.

Second Childhood by CloudyJenn (read by exmanhater) G | 16k (1h30) | 10k hits

"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.

They beat the Apocalypse (OG-S5) and then Sam gets de-aged by a spell. I've listened to this so many times I know it by heart, it's an ultimate comfort fic to me.

Defy Any and All Expectation* by Tenoko1 (read by Tenoko1) M | 138k (14hrs) | 37k hits

Chuck's newly released books tell of another war between Heaven and Hell. Team Free Will sets out to try to defy prophecy, only to realize there is a lot more at stake and amiss than the not-quite-accurate words of one Prophet of the Lord. Along the way, Dean and Cas' relationship continues to evolve into something neither expected or were prepared for, all of their lives transforming in ways no one could have expected. But with no shortage of cases, monsters, and mayhem, it's going to require the help of new friends and old enemies if they're to have a hope of saving the world one more time. Alternate Season Six.

So this is a re-written version of Tenoko1's The Path We Choose which I don't think is around anymore. By the time I was reading the re-write as each chapter came out, I knew every single line of TPWC and it wasn't all that much shorter. It's such a perfect canon divergence because they are all 100% in-character. If you're into podfic, you already know what an absolute gift 14 hours is, but if you have never tried podfic before, Tenoko1 is a fantastic place to start. Her voice is soothing and energetic and her Cas sometimes comes to mind when I'm reading fic in Misha's place (sorry Misha)

His Fucking Kids 'Verse by 8sword M | 96k(Series)/ 3k (first part) | 26k hits (first part)

Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.

Emma survives and Dean and Cas are raising her and Claire. This fic series will make you laugh, make you cry, and (nowadays) make you wish Emma had survived to be a part of Wayward Sisters.

One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 22k | 37k hits

While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)

Dean breaks his legs, and honey!Cas brings home some kittens to foster. It's achingly sweet and also painful because you know Dean wants to fix Cas but there's nothing to fix. It is tagged for ableism for this.

Tripping* by Hatteress E | 49k | 78k hits

That time the universe decided Dean belonged with Cas and wasn't afraid to pull out the big guns to make it so. Big guns in this case being obsessive fangirls, archangels turned tricksters and overly enthusiastic cupids. Welcome to Dean's life.

Alt!S5 and it is beautiful. Also any fic with Missouri is an automatic win.

Broadway Musical by Grifitings M | 12k | 79k hits

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle. The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at. Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

Jimmy deserves a sainthood and frankly I don't even want to hear about crack if it's not on the level of the Host yelling at Cas not to touch the butt.

Classic AUs (AKA AUs from my first time around)

Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | 144k hits

Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...

This was one of the first spn fics to really really stay with me and it never really left.

Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by ChasingRabbits E | 127k(Series)/ 8k (Part1) | 29k hits (Part1)

Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.

This series. If you've ever felt unsure or out of place or anxious or just really felt like no-one understood you, this fic is for you. I first found this series when I was coming to terms with my queerness and I genuinely think it was invaluable. Also I am a sucker for the go for a dinner at Cas's family and end up storming out trope.

Play It All Night Long by janie_tangerine (read by Tenoko1) NC17 | 43k (4hrs)

The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean's brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn't know it's just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.

Again, this podfic has got me through many a night of insomnia. Cas calls in after a particularly shitty day and it all goes from there.

New-School SPN (AKA post-2014)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara E | 57k | 28k hits

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says. Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away. Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

There is a reason you will see this recced time and time again. It healed parts of me I didn't know needed healing.

So Says the Sword* by komodobits E | 85k | 73k hits

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected

I saw ssts mentioned in like every single If you're getting back into the fandom READ THIS rec list. For good reason. It's described as "canon-adjacent in that seasons one to three happened exactly the same, but when Dean goes to Hell, he is not raised by Castiel". It's one of the most interesting concepts I've read and it's one of those fics where the writing style will stick with you. Castiel POV in a way you've never read before.

Aching in the Absence of You* by sobsicles E | 95k | 9k hits (in 5 days)

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back. He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales. "Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time. By nightfall, Cas is gone.

If you don't already know sobsicles, I am delighted to introduce you to the person who will smash you to pieces with a hammer to put you back together Kintsugi-style. This one is post-finale but without 15x18 (it'll make sense as it goes). Cas says he's going to leave again and again Dean doesn't ask him to stay. Full of lines so beautiful they'd make Shakespeare weep, Sobsicles has this way of writing that is so evocative and paints such a clear picture. Fair warning, if you're Dean-coded, this might be A Lot.

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)** by sobsicles E | 108k | 25k hits

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next. ~~~ Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want." "What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before." "Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out." "Easier said than done."

Yes, two sobsicles recs back to back. This one I read first and it still holds such a special place in my heart. A sign of a good fic is being able to picture it perfectly. The sign of an amazing fic is that when reading this I was so in Dean's shoes I could feel a pool cue between my hands and Baby behind my back. And I sobbed like a baby in this. It has probably my favourite ending ever. It's genuinely beautiful. If you don't read another on this list, read this one.

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara M | 52k | 14k hits

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean. (A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

The ultimate Cas character study and interwoven with poetry.

So There It Is, I've Said It All by PorcupineGirl (read by Ceewelsh) G | 4k | 13k hits

"Why, do you have something you need to say to me that you don't think I'll like?" I think I'm in love with you. "Yeah. I guess so."

Dean figures out he's in love with Cas then can't stop thinking it. This is genuinely beautiful and if you've ever had trouble actually saying the thing you're thinking, you'll relate to Dean here. I recently did the podfic for this.

you won't find this place alone by amidsizedfrog G | 9.5k |

When Claire said she was dropping out of college to pursue hunting full time, Dean said, “right,” and left the room. Or, the cross-generation conversation about formal education, choosing your own path and figuring out what it looks like to find a family. Or, in other words: "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell-attitude, and I'll figure it out." - Dean Winchester

This is a beautiful look at education in the hunter world, and I love anything that looks at Dean and Bobby's relationship and this does it perfectly. Also best cameo ever.

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston E | 33k | 23k hits

Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.

This is perfect. It has a lovely slow pace like it has the vibes of an indie film if that makes sense? Like it's two guys going from place to place talking. It was an instant favourite.

Newer AUs (AKA more recent AUs)

And This, Your Living Kiss* by opal_bullets M | 57k | 69k hits

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

When I asked which fics were absolute must-reads for someone who'd been out of the fandom a few years, this was said repeatedly. But what really got me to read it was everyone actually told me more about what it meant to them than just the summary. It's a study in poetry, a study in learning who you are and who you used to be, and a reminder that it's never too late.

The Graveyard Shift* by riseofthefallenone, PurgatoryJar E | 620k | 175k hits

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

A fantastic magical realism fic - magical creatures live and work with humans. Gabe and Cas run a coffee shop, Dean is a fireman, and the burn is slow and delicious and the intrigue kept me reading for like a week every single spare minute.

Painted Angels by WinJennster E | 106k | 162k hits

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

The first part of this I actually saved back when I was first in the fandom but I never got around to reading it (I had a To Read folder of 100+ fics that I absolutely dove into when I got back into spn) and the rest of the series finished in 2016 so I'm counting it in this section not the other. On the one hand, I wish I'd read this when it first came out. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and so visual. On the other hand, I think I appreciated it a lot more now than I would have seven years ago. The parallel of me coming back to the old fandom that I loved dearly with Cas coming back to see someone and places he loved so much really hit. (Although coming back to the spn fandom was much easier and much less heartbreak!)

Finale Fix-Its (yeah fuck you Dabb that this has to be a whole category)

The Goldenrod Revisions by aethylas M | 66k | 15k hits

A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.

Script format re-write of 15x19 and 15x20 into a 5-episode finale fix-it. As far as I'm concerned, this and chocolatecakecas's American Pie fanvid are the Supernatural finale.

break the skin (to break the barriers)* by sobsicles M | 30k | 9k hits

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. ~~~ Dean is silent for a long, tense moment, then he gruffly says, "It's not for banishing the angels. It's to summon them. So, it doesn't—it's not to get rid of 'em, but to draw 'em in." Mitzi can't help but glance up at him at that. His voice is so heavy with so much unexplained pain, and she doesn't understand why, or what angels have to do with it. She knows religion can impact people. She's very aware that it can get complicated, and that it can be a huge source of pain for someone, but Dean sounds grievously wronged, somehow, as if it's a truly personal thing. She pushes through, focusing back on her job, clearing her throat before murmuring, "Well, I guess we all want angels to visit us sometimes." "Just the one," Dean mumbles. "Your guardian angel?" Mitzi asks. Dean breathes out, "Something like that. As close to one as an angel will ever get."

Therapy through getting tattoos and telling your life story to someone who obviously doesn't think it's real. Outsider!POV not just done well, but done literally the best.

Kingdom Come by ahurston E | 17k | 10k hits

Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.

I don't know if this counts as finale fix-it as it's more fuck the finale we're ignoring that. There's just so much love and care in this fic.

The Family Business by chai_lattes M | 16k | 5.5k hits

It's all over. It's been weeks since Chuck's defeat and Cas' return from the Empty. There are no threats on the horizon, no apocalypses to stop, but there's something that keeps the Winchesters from being happy. Something that's maybe always been there. On their way back from a hunt, they find John Winchester, back from the dead.

If you're anything like me, you start rubbing your grubby little hands together at the tag John Winchester's A+ Parenting like yes let's address this! This is one of the best examples of John coming back and how it jars with the life that they have built. Also Claire and Jack getting to share screentime!

Merlin

If I have a forever fandom, it's Merlin. I've always kept one foot in this fandom, and it introduced me to fandom, and most importantly to podfic which kinda had an impact. All Merthur unless stated.

Canon-Verse

Seven Magpies by syllic (read by lunchee) E | 33k (3hr15) | 58k hits

Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't. Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.

Okay so this is an AU but it's Canon-AU so it's going here. Fantastic role reversal fic that you will be thinking about for weeks.

and from your grace, i fell by TheDragon (read by Ceewelsh) T | 4.6k (41mins) | 13k hits

“Where’s Merlin?” he asks the maid. “Where’s that idiot of a Court Sorcerer?!” “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I thought you knew,” the maid replies, not daring to look him in the eyes. “He’s taken ill.” “And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself that he would be unable to attend today’s council meeting?” Arthur questions, voice full of acid. “He hasn’t woken since he collapsed two days ago, Sire,” the maidservant says, blissfully unaware that what she’s saying the power to stop Arthur’s heart in its tracks.

When I first read this, it had me completely transfixed. I could not stop reading. It was so raw and so full of emotion. I was then lucky enough to get TheDragon in our exchange, so I did a podfic for it and it's probably the most proud I've been of one.

Modern AU

The Student Prince* by FayJay (read by FayJay) M | 145k (15hrs) | 696k hits

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

A classic is a classic for a reason. I'm also pretty sure this introduced me to podfics so like special place in my heart x2. Did you know if you filter AO3 by hits on Merlin, this has 426k more hits than the second result? Now that is a Fandom Classic.

Drastically Redefining Protocol* by rageprufrock (read by lunchee) E | 46k (5hr30) | 269k hits

In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose.

As I always say, if this can happen to me and I still love the fic, nothing is going to change that. Arthur hides from his duties in a cupboard and gets stuck in there with a chainsmoking med student.

Fundamental Imperfections by Starlingthefool (read by bravenclawsome) M | 12k (1hr35) | 123k hits

In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing. (Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)

This fic has everything: Charles Dickens, long distance texting, Morgana choking a Sherlock cosplayer with his own scarf. This is the ultimate comfort fic and I compare all fics to this even when they're incomparable. I never read the sequel because it was WIP and I was waiting for it to complete, it hasn't been updated since 2015 and apparently ends on an unhappy note, so if you're going to read the sequel you have been warned.

Les Mis

Modern!AU

Overzealous Oddities by YassHomo e/R, Courf/Cosette/Marius, Comb/Ép | G | 6.4k | 4k hits

Courfeyrac: Remember when I smashed our tv and we laughed about it? Enjolras: No. Courfeyrac: Let me rephrase Courfeyrac: I've smashed our tv, lets laugh about it.

I love me a text fic and this is in my opinion the best one around. Just look at that summary. I have quoted that so many times.

But Paris was a very old city and we were young* by GingerNinjaAbi E/R, Courf/Jehan | M | 99k | 42k hits

Perhaps somewhere in between all the cups of coffee, shots of tequila, sunny March days, terrible lumpy jumpers, love, cigarettes, drunken nights and the desire to change the world they'll all leave Paris with a degree in something. Or not. Grantaire's money is on no. But he's a pessimist who's hopelessly in love, so perhaps his opinion shouldn't count.

The ULTIMATE modern!AU tbh.

Tagged by Salomonderiel E/R, Courf/Jehan | E | 155k | 28k hits

So there's this artist. He could probably be compared to Banksy, but he's a lot more... cynical. He shares rooms with a poet who braids his hair with flowers, in a flat near Covent Garden they rent from a short-tempered shop keeper with a penchant for fans and who'd do anything if you mentioned Poland. Sometimes, the three of them will go and deface public buildings in London whilst completely smashed off their heads. And then there's this, shall we say, 'revolutionary'. He has a band of other revolutionaries, who all meet at this cafe by Borough Market. He shares rooms with his best mate, a philosophy student, spends too much time with a flirty guy who has a thing for poets, goes boxing with a guy in a red vest, wants to punch the wet sop who drools on the blonde waitress and is getting tired of this guy who keep breaking his laptops through sheer dumb luck. Thank god the hypochondriac's there to keep an (slightly too) attentive eye on their stress levels. The revolutionary thinks the graffiti artist's work is a waste of space. The artist thinks the revolutionary's campaigns are a waste of time. And all the while, the poet and the flirt drool over each other in the background...

This is perfect and it's funny and it's beautiful and it rips my heart out multiple times.

Canon

To Be Free by kjack89 (read by Ceewelsh) Gen, Cosette/Marius | T | 3.8k (32mins) | 375 hits

Three blows from a bayonet had transfixed Combeferre’s breast, followed by a fall from the barricade as he rapidly lost first blood and then consciousness. But neither of these, it seemed, was enough to kill him, as much as later he might perhaps wish that they were.

I read this because it was on a list kjack89 did of their favourite fics which don't necessarily have the same hits traffic. It's nothing I would have usually read (canon era, not e/R, MCD) but I am so glad I gave it a go. It's a study on what if Combeferre had survived the barricades too and the guilt. This stayed with me for days afterwards until I eventually messaged kjack89 to get permission to podfic it.

BatFam

Canonish (I don't know differences between canons but these are all they're superheros fics)

Robins United by laceymcbain (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | T | 49k (6h15)/ 19k (2h25) (First part) | 103k hits

Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.

The ultimate batbros series. Also if you haven't heard reena_jenkins' podfics before, you are welcome. Pre-pandemic I took a lot of public transport and reena_jenkins kept me sane.

batcoons by drakefeathers (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | G | 6k (49mins) | 14k hits

Jason and raccoons have a lot in common. (Additionally: his so-called family are much bigger pests than the stray animals hanging around his safehouse.)

This is funny, it's heartwarming, and it's a really good character study.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks Clark/Bruce | T | 19k | 20k hits

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing. Then they meet.

Bruce Wayne is a Tired Single Dad™. It's genuinely such a sweet fic.

#fic rec #spn fic rec #merlin fic rec #les mis fic rec

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verobatto · 3 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CX

It was a love story from the very beginning.

The Destiel Reunion after the Possession

(14x03)

Hi there! Another volume from season 14, this time this meta will be Dean centric because season 14 was plenty Dean centric. And episode 3 showed us the demage Michael left on Dean. It also talked about the Destiel reunion after the Possession.

As I said in my previous volume, season 14 is the one I started writing meta, so this will be a resume of it and some new addition in retrospective.

You can find my two metas about 14x03 here and here.

The after Possession damage

I remember when I saw Dean in this episode 'The Scar's it was as if I was looking a semiology book of Psychiatry.

First of all because Dean was acting erratic, anxious, always in alert.

"I've never seen Dean in so bad shape. The anxiety was evidently exposed, and the partial lost of memories and the flahsbacks (...) he's weak, as Kaia noticed, mentally weak... "

I wrote this in one of my metas, and as I said in the previous volume, we will have here another reading of Dean's thoughts. This time by Kaia.

(Remember this is the episode in which Dean asks willingly to Castiel to get inside his head. Subtextually, to Dean, Castiel is the only one he allows to go deep inside his thoughts. It's based in trust and love.)

But let's check AU!Kaia and Dean dialogue:

Kaia: You’re no different from him. Threats, violence anything to get what you want.

Dean: I am nothing like him.

Kaia is reading Dean's fears here. Treating him like an angry killer. All his toxicity is exposed at Kaia's reading.

Kaia: Yeah you are: you always have been!

(...)

Sam: Wait a second: you’re a dreamwalker, too? Your powers, they connected you.

Kaia: Our whole lives, what she saw, I saw. I know where it comes from your anger, your impatience: it's fear. You’re scared and you’re weak

The fact that this while scene was linked to the scene in which Jack and CAS discovered how to save a young girl from a spell. Graphically releasing her by breaking an amulet, is foreshadowing Dean self release from his second Possession. Kaia saying 'what she saw I saw' is practically giving a clue about Michael spying them through Dean's eyes.

So anxiety and depression cohabitate in Dean after Possession.

"Did you see how Dean was like running all the time? He didn't listen to Sam or Jody, he needed to do things quickly. Running here, there, it doesn't matter, bc he was running from himself, and to find and kill Michael was just an excuse."

That was the image of Dean I got from this episode. Then, this dialogue in the car whit Sam in which he describes how it was to be possesed.

He mentions "drowning" that was his desperate battle to conquer his own thoughts and own body. We'll have a lot of recallings to this word throughout the season 14, a lot of monsters representing AU!Michael and his own toxicity trying to drowning him.

Gif set credit @itsokaysammy

Purity and Purge

Before jumping into my idea of what it meant that cold reunion (cold because it didn't have a hug) I wanna talk a little more about how Michael brought the Purgatory into season 14 as a prelude to episode 15x09, but mostly, as a symbolic representation of what being posseses meant to Dean too.

"I was expecting Michael to be the new Purgatory exposure in this season, an opportunity for Dean to bring back the purity from his heart, as he did in Purgatory, the place where he realized he was in love of his best friend.. (sighing)."

This definitely happened and had his conclusion in season 15 with 15x09.

But, the purity of the heart Dean will expose throughout this season wasn't the purity Michael wanted to bring to Earth.

"We could confuse purity with basic Instincts when we talk about monsters. Bc basic Instincts are pure, indeed, there's no contamination in what the monsters wants: hunt, eat, survive. Like animals."

This is directly related to the idea of PURGE Michael wanted for the world. And it also was showed in Dean's behavior in the woods when he was searching for Michael. Basics instincts an animal would use to find his prey. Dean was in basic hunter mode.

The Destiel Reunion

The Destieo reunion had a bittersweet taste.

First of all, when Castiel arrived to the scene, a dramatic music started to play. This is usually used to point out at a romantic couple playing the scene. And because it was specifically played when Castiel arrived and Dean and him exchanged weird looks, it's obvious it was there to show the audience HELLO, THIS IS A REUNION OF LOVERS.

Gif set @jacktwistfan

Until now, everything was sweet, Dean is really happy to see Castiel. He looks as if he was breathing for the first time. His face is showing relief and his heart eyesbfor the angel are out of control. 'There you are. The love of my life.'

And Cas, well, remember when I said he was more emotional?

He smiles at him. Like... Very happy but then... Dean's face turned into... Recrimination.

Cas: I’m sorry. I wanted to be there, but we feared that Michael would sense my presence.

Dean: Sam told me. Ain’t no thing.

Gif set credit @cath-avery

Dean is mad at Cas, because Castiel didn't go to rescue him. Even knowing it could be bad for the plan, deep inside , Dean wanted to see CAS in that barn. That's why their looks. Castiel csn see this perfectly. He even explains this to him. I didn't want to see this but then in episode 14x04 (the next meta) I will explain why Dean was feeling sad, one of the causes was he was feeling Castiel didn't pay attention to him. The 'jealousy' starts to burn (yes, Dean was kind of jealouse of Jack because Castiel spends now more time with him) and this will end up with their break up at the end of the season when Jack will be the one killing Mary accidentally.

Dean being mad with Cas could be the cause of why we didn't have a hug. But also, because Dean felt dirty and ashamed, his mind had been ripped by Michael. Maybe he felt too dirt to go Cas a hug.

Now... Let's jump to the sexual innuendo scene...

There's a huge parallel between this episode and 4x01 in which Dean realized he had a hand print on his left shoulder. Here, Dean noticed the scar in his right shoulder and uncovered in the same way he did in 4x01. I called this Michael's mark vs Destiel mark. And is a blatant representation of why Michael couldn't possesed Dean's vessel completely. And mostly because the scar looked like two phalanxes. As if it was trying to complete a handprint. But he couldn't, because Dean is already taken by Castiel. If this is not romantic trope, I don't know how to call it.

And now... Dean asking Castiel to get inside his head, as an act of trust, marking a foreshadow for 14x10, when Castiel and Sam will enter in his mind.

Dean: Cas, c’mon hit me.

But this will end up being a scene with sexual innuendo, mostly because Misha and Jensen acting choices...

Gif credit @faramaiofnerdwoodforest

Dean's face if one of whom just had the orgasm of his life. His face after realize the sensation that that intrusion by Castiel had made him feel is showing he is aware they just had had an experience. It was OBVIOUSLY very exciting. He even tries to compose himself a little, feeling ashamed, but collecting his hands together towards his own chest. His left eyelid drops a little, just after experienced a very amount of... well... Sensations. It looks as if Dean ejaculated after having great sex with his angel.

This was fanservice, thank you Lord Berens.

To Conclude:

This episode showed us a very bittersweet Destieo reunion. I infer it was because Dean was mad at CAS for not being in the barn to rescue him.

It also had a Destiel sex scene, their first time... 🤣

But it spoke too about the amount of psychiatric damage AUMichsel left on Dean.

Hope you liked this meta, see you in the next one.

Tagging @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @maleansu @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2002 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777

If you wanna be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 14 here you have the link: CIX

Buenos Aires, April 25th 2021 4:25 PM

#destiel chronicles #destiel #destiel meta #season 14 meta #14x03 #14x03 meta #dean winchester #au! Michael #dean winchester meta #castiel #sam winchester #supernatural #spn meta #supernatural meta

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zhe-lazy-fox · 3 years

Text

Is it a Repeat of History

Fandom: Dream SMP Words: 1 827 Category: Gen Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 link: [Here]

- - -

“What are you doing?”

Wilbur froze, stood before the dark wooden button on the stone wall. The button connected to the 23 stacks of TNT that would blow up the prison and let Dream out.

“Phil?” No no, Phil couldn’t be here! he shouldn’t be here! Wilbur had made sure Phil would be distracted with the others by fighting the withers!

WHY WAS HE HERE?!

“What are you doing.” Phil asked again, his voice sounded tired and old.

Wilbur’s fingers twitched against the stone, hearing the rustle of feathers and cloth behind him. A shaky exhale left him as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder.

Phil stood there, Armour and clothes damaged and dirtied from the withers Wilbur had spawned earlier, from what he snatched from Techno’s stash of wither heads and soul sand, but Wilbur wasn’t able to concentrate on the damage his father had taken. Instead his eyes were staring at Phil’s face. Phil wore a tired expression with mixed emotions, he looked sad, worried, angry and disappointed all at once, and Wilbur hated the combination.

“You couldn’t stop me last time. What makes you think you can stop me now?” Wilbur asked with a smirk. Phil sighed before he walked further into the room, but stopped when Wilbur gave away something akin to a growl, moving closer to the button.

“I was misinformed and confused back then, you forced my hand! I regretted it! I still do! You lied to me in your letters, I couldn't understand why for a while, but I know the truth now and I understand. You don’t have to do this, Will.”

“Phil!” Wilbur laughed, stumbling away from the button to face his father fully with a wild grin spreading his arms out “You don’t understand a thing!”

“Then explain it to me so I can understand!” Phil cried out, a small burst of anger and desperation in his voice. “Will please-”

“I have to do this, Phil! I have to repay Dream for saving me from the hell that was purgatory! I have to repay his kindness!”

“Kindness?! Will, Dream did not bring you back out of kindness! He did it for his own gain!”

“You can’t stop me! You couldn’t stop me last time! You can’t stop me now! I AM going to press that button!”

Phil clenched the hand he held his sword while grounding his teeth.

“I won’t let you do that. I owe Tommy and everyone else that much, to make up for Doomsday.”

Wilbur grew still before he stared at Phil with cold eyes

“Are you going to kill me again, father?” Phil shuddered, feeling memories of the first time flash through his mind, Wilbur’s manic laughter, wild eyes and crazed talk, Phil was forced to look away as tears burned his eyes.

“No.” He said, voice steady and clear, he inhaled before he looked up at Wilbur, meeting his eyes head on “I won’t make that mistake again.” Phil sheathed his sword. Wilbur stared at him before he laughed.

“You’re a fool!”

“Yes, I am, aren't I? A fool for not realising my son was suffering on his own, and still is.”

“I’m perfectly fine!” Wilbur snapped

“Are you though? You were alone for 13 years… that’s a long time, Will.” Wilbur snarled and spun around to face the button again.

“My mind is made up, You can’t change it!”

“You’re making a mistake! What do you think Dream will do once he gets out? Huh?! He won’t care about you, he only cares about himself and his idea of being a god. Who’s to say he won’t kill you once you’re no longer of use to him?”

Wilbur stood still, staring at the button. Baring his teeth at what Phil said. Dream wouldn’t kill him, he was his hero! he wouldn’t- Dream saved him from purgatory! He would send him back there! Right?

“Why are you doing this?” Wilbur asked in a cold voice. “Why are you trying to stop me?”

“You’re my son, Will.” Phil said as easily as if Wilbur had asked him what the colour of the sky were. “You will always be my son. Your actions disappointed me, but I still love you, I could never stop loving you. I want you to be happy and okay… Is that such a selfish wish for a parent? You wanted what was best for Fundy too in the beginning, before things got bad. But if you press that button I can’t say the others will forgive you again!”

Wilbur clenched his fists, trying to ignore how the button grew blurry before him, only to clear up when he blinked and the clear drops of water fell to the floor. Phil should be shouting at him, be angry and demand answers, not- not say how much he loved him. Wilbur scrunched up his face before he gave away a scream, slamming his fists against the wall.

He distantly heard Phil call out his name in a panic.

Wilbur opened his eyes to stare at the button. The button that if pressed would let Dream out… and also destroy whatever chance he ever had left of rebuilding the bridges he burned during the 16th.

His arms fell limp to his sides. as more silent tears fell from his eyes. He had to press the button, but he couldn’t do it. He had to repay Dream for saving him, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t press the button… He couldn’t do it.

“Will?” Phil asked, voice filled with worry from how quiet Wilbur was being. A sharp inhale followed when he saw how Wilbur raised one hand towards the button. “No!” he gasped “Will please!”

But there was no click of a button pressed, just the muted sound of a button being removed. Phil started when Wilbur slowly took a step away from the wall and turned to face Phil, the button held in his hands, tears streaming down his face.

“Dad-” Wilbur’s voice cracked. Phil sprung into action pulling Wilbur into a hug, holding his son tight.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.”

A keening noise left Wilbur followed by the clatter of the button falling to the floor as Wilbur threw his arms around Phil, hiding his face in his fathers shoulder as the two of them sank to the floor. Screaming his anguish and sadness out, choking on his sobs and tears. Phil pulled him closer, wrapping his wings around his son, like he had done so long ago when Wilbur was younger and small.

“I’m sorry!” Wilbur choked out between his sobs and cries “I’m sorry dad-”

Phil shushed him, kissing the side of his head.

“It’s okay, it will be okay, everything will be okay.”

Steps made Phil turn his head to see the others in the opening to the room. Techno looked worse for wear but relaxed at what he found.

“Dad!” Fundy called out pushing past Techno.

Phil could feel Wilbur freeze in his arms, and try to get out, possibly to run, but Phil held him still. Fundy crashed to his knees next to them, worry clear on his face, ears folded back.

“Dad?” Fundy glanced up at Phil, several questions on his face, Phil gave him a tired smile before pulling one of his wings back to reveal Wilbur. Fundy hesitated before he reached out his clawed hand placing it on Wilbur’s head. He felt Wilbur flinch under his touch before the older turned enough to be able to look at Fundy., eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Hey Funds...” Wilbur croaked out with a wobbly voice. Fundy gave away a sniffle before he threw himself at his father, worming his way into the hug to cling to Wilbur.

“You’re okay! You asshole! I hate you so much!” Fundy cried as he clung to Wilbur, Wilbur looked shocked before he pulled back one of his arms to hold Fundy instead.

“I- sorry...” Fundy sobbed before he pushed his head up under Wilbur’s jaw, something he hadn’t done since he was a child.

“You’re not dead, again… I don’t want you to go, you idiot father.” Phil couldn’t help but laugh at the expression that fell over Wilbur’s face, complete and utter confusion before he started to cry again, hugging Fundy even more.

The sound of a pickaxe hitting the stone made them look up to see how Techno and Tommy were both working on breaking down the wall to get to the TNT to remove it. Techno and Tommy both grumbling under their breaths as they argued but worked together. Wilbur once he calmed down, pointed out the other places where he planted TNT for the prison, Techno and Tommy, now joined by Quackity, Sapnap, George, Ranboo and Tubbo helped to clear it all away.

The destruction from the withers wasn't as terrible as Wilbur thought it would be, but then again, everyone had been together fighting them, killing the withers fairly quickly.

“Wilbur!” Techno called once the last of the TNT was removed and the holes filled with dirt. Wilbur blinked and had to tilt his head up to look at the older piglin hybrid, who glowered down at him.

“Yes..?” Wilbur asked, panic rising in him.

“Don’t steal my shit.” Wilbur blinked and spluttered, THAT was what Techno was focusing on?! “The same goes for you Tommy! You still have my axe!”

“WHAT?!” Tommy screeched further away, patching up Puffy who had taken a bit more damage than the others.

“Will.” a light voice asked, making Wilbur turn to look behind him, finding himself face to face with Niki. She gave him a small smile, but it was lacking the previous warmth he was so used to seeing her smile have.

“Niki?” The slap echoed out causing everyone to turn and find Wilbur stumbling back.

“That’s for blowing up L’manberg!” Niki shouted, another punch followed, causing Wilbur to winch as he stumbled backwards to try and get away from Niki’s angry advances.

“That’s for dying!” “That’s for brushing everything I said away!” “That’s for betraying everything we stood for!” “Wai- NIKI!” Wilbur yelped as he avoided another hit, hands held up in surrender. “That’s for releasing the withers!” “That’s for trying to free Dream!”

Wilbur steeled himself for another punch only to freeze and blink when Niki hugged him.

“Wha-” “And this is for listening to Phil and still being here.” she spoke, muffled by Wilbur’s sweater. Wilbur stood frozen in her arms before he gave away a congested sniffle. “Thanks… Niki.” Niki let go and stepped back to look up at him.

“Now don’t go and die any time soon okay.” Niki said as he turned to walk back towards where most of the others were gathered “I have so many new recipes I want you to try.” Wilbur gave away a wobbly smile before he rubbed at his eyes not wanting to cry again, before he followed.

“Okay.”

#Dream SMP #Dream SMP Spoilers #Wilbur soot #Philza #Technoblade #niki nihachu #tommyinnit #revived Wilbur soot #revivebur #Others mentioned #Text #Hurt/Comfort #Gen #My writing

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dercolaris · 3 years

Text

The Devil Child

Fandom: Batman

Characters: Jonathan Crane, Grandmother Crane, Scarecrow

Relationship: Jonathan Crane & Scarecrow (Friendship?)

Genre: Hurt and Comfort, Horror, Angst

Word length: 2283

Warnings: Abuse, Murder, Gore, Character Death

Status: Complete

Short summary: Jonathan can't stand the constant violence any more and takes radical actions against his abuser. Victim or culprit? "Who's the real devil in this house, grandma?"

Song: https://youtu.be/BxrLVldZtmg

Enjoy!

Jonathan looked completely lost in thought at the small snow globe in front of him, watched the sparkling flakes closely, which slowly trickled down from the milky glass. The two figures inside the sphere were slowly enveloped by the snow, standing lost and abandoned between two high towers of clear white. The boy put his fingers around the base of the globe and turned it upside down once, then put it back in its original place. Once again he watched the snow and the two figures, his eyes were glued to the spectacle. The sight was just beautiful. Even the scratches that have occurred here and there over the past few years could not reduce the value of the snow globe. At least not for Jonathan. He was just about to sink deeper into the unique sight when a loud clang from the kitchen could be heard. He got up in a hurry and left the living room almost in a rush, turning left in the direction of his own room. The boy was about to start running when a slim hand roughly grabbed his collar and pulled him back with high force. He hit the floor head first, sliding a little more on the polished parquet floor. Jonathan held his aching head and looked up as if in slow motion, immediately staring into his grandmother's dark eyes. Her face was a mirror of all the negative emotions the brown-haired boy knew – above all, irrepressible anger. She hissed calmly: “Did you really think I didn't notice you? You are breaking my rules once again, Ichabod. This is the third time this week. What should I do with a creature as godless as you? Even Samuel is deeply disappointed by your rebellious behaviour. Foolish child." Her ice-cold hands wrapped around his dirty shirt collar, pulled him roughly back to his feet. She pressed him against the nearest wall and ran her long fingers almost gently over his pale cheek. Then she struck hard with the palm of her hand. Over and over again.

Only when the left half of his face gradually began to swell did the elderly lady stop and look at her work with a bitter, almost evil smile. She shook her now bloody hand to relax it a bit and spoke in a prudent voice: “Maybe this time it will be a lesson for you, Ichabod. Remember the verse, the foolish heart cries out its folly. That is exactly what you do all the time with incredible ignorance of the sacred values of our God." The kid only nodded slowly, not daring to contradict his grandmother. She reached into a small pocket on her black dress, pulled out a slightly greyish handkerchief and wiped the blood from her fingers. She handed it to the little heap of misery on the floor, growling softly: “Clean yourself up, you ungrateful fiend and do not flinch. You owe that pain to yourself. I will be waiting for you in the kitchen in half an hour. You have to wash the dirty dishes when I finish eating my well-deserved meal. You will not have dinner tonight in repentance for your sins. But you are welcome to enjoy the pig feed – it is outside in the barn next to the manure." With these words the thin woman disappeared from his field of vision, slipped like a ghost into one of the long hallways of the mansion. Jonathan held his bleeding cheek, pressed the dirty handkerchief over the small scratches. He slowly rubbed the rough cotton against his pale skin, trying to wipe as much dirt from the wounds as possible. The brown-haired boy didn't want to risk a serious infection. He took the handkerchief from his cheek and stared at the now dark coloured fabric. His eyes widened at that moment. Small larvae cavorted among the loose threads, crawling helplessly like himself on the dirt and rubbish.

He dropped the handkerchief in pure shock, then ran down the dark corridor to his room. Once there, he slammed the door behind him and leaned against the dark cedar wood with his bony body. This action probably wouldn't keep his grandmother from entering his chamber, but this position at least gave him a deceptive sense of security. He looked down at his trembling hands. Small drops of the red liquid from his face fell on the pale skin, moistening the bony fingertips with thin fluid blood. Jonathan put his head back on the wood, took a few deep breaths. How long could he endure this eternal disgrace? The brown-haired kid slipped down the door, hiding his violated face in his bloody hands. It was allowed to cry here. His quiet sobs filled the room, even drowning out the gloomy-looking grandfather clock in his room. He clawed his fingers in his forehead and swayed himself in a lonely, helpless embrace. Was his grandmother already thinking about an appropriate punishment for him? At that moment he heard the familiar rustling again. It was getting louder with every second. So it was back. Again. A large, pitch-black shadow moved over his slim figure, wrapping its thin arms slowly around the trembling, underweight body. It gently patted the bowed head, then breathed softly in Jonathan's ear: “We'll do it tonight, my child. Tonight we're finally going to take the witch to purgatory. God will help us in this task." The person addressed just shook his head weakly, whimpered softly under the waves of pain: “I can't. I can't do it. She's my grandmother after all and I have no one else besides her. I would be alone. Please don't really make me do it. I beg you. Our rabbi preached just a week ago that violence should not be retaliated with violence. There has to be another way. " The sinister figure broke away in front of him, hovered for a while in the dim light of the full moon. It put its arms to the side and laughed heartily, turned once elegantly around itself. Only then did the icy giggle creep out of the creature's throat. Jonathan just sobbed louder, sank his fingers tighter on his sore knees.

His visitor let its head fall to one side and smiled as it examined what was left of the small boy on the floor. The figure took a few steps towards him, placed two thin fingers on his emaciated chin. It slowly raised it and whispered softly to his dry lips: “I'm not forcing you to do anything, Ichabod. She does. With every blow in your poor little soul. Over and over again. Deeper and deeper until there is nothing left of you in the end, you poor lost soul. But tonight something will change. Tonight the old witch will die. Die by our hands my boy." Jonathan shook his head as if on command, put his fingers back on his throbbing temples and pressed his nails firmly into the lean flesh. The uninvited visitor tried to loosen one of the cramping hands, stroking its straw-like fingernails soothingly over the little boy's head. The brown-haired kid was reluctant to let go, finally lost in an overwhelming outburst of his feelings. Tears flowed freely from his blue eyes, making the otherwise clear view extremely watery. The creature giggled softly and wiped the salty drops from the worn cheeks, breathed softly: “There is a small dagger in your bedside table, Ichabod. Do you remember who this belonged to? Correct. Your cursed father. He stabbed the useless whore with the dagger from which body you once crawled into the world. And now we're going to use this weapon to keep your mother's dried up corpse some nasty company. Come on my poor thing. You will be released from all suffering in a moment. Believe me." The kid just nodded slowly and got up, slowly pushed away from the door and staggered to the bedside table next to his bed. He sat down on the worn-out mattress and stroked the frayed quilt. His grandmother still hadn't allowed him more for the nights. The countless holes from all the clothes moths made it impossible to sleep in the cold winter months. How many trembling nights had he already spent in this dark loneliness? At some point the unknown being had appeared next to him. A person with his face, with the exact same voice and yet it wasn't himself. It was bursting with self-confidence and zest for action. Often it had already observed the one-sided fights with his grandmother. The visitor regularly urged him to do something about the old woman.

Jonathan slowly opened the bottom drawer of the small bedside table and reached inside with trembling hands. There was only one item there – the forbidden dagger of his father. The small children's hands clasped the leather handle, raised the light weapon into the light of the full moon. The cold iron flashed and shone in the dark. The brown-haired boy slowly lifted his head, examined the rusty dial of the grandfather clock. It was almost time. He closed the drawer again, then swayed from the bed. His feet carried him to the door, now lingering much quieter than before in front of the clunky wood. He looked down at his fingers, watched the dagger for a second before stepping out into the freezing corridor. Jonathan strolled quietly down the hall and came to a stop in front of the spacious kitchen. His grandmother was already there, mixing thick blood in an oversized pot. The boy swallowed hard and entered carefully. His lips trembled with nervousness. His bony fingers tightened on the dagger's worn leather. “Finally,” the older woman teased without looking up from her work, “I thought I'd have to reprimand you for being late, Ichabod.” He didn't reply, just stepped closer to his grandmother. The being behind him had put its hands on his shoulders and whispered softly into his ear: “Look at her, Jonathan. Just look how helpless she is right now. Just a stab. A small hit will be enough and we are finally free. A single stab and all the pain, all the agony, all the dark memories ... All of this will be gone. You can do it! Stab! It's so easy." The small kid turned pale and shivered even more, trying to control his breath. The older woman just kept stirring the viscous blood, took some sugar from a shelf above her and poured a few tablespoons into the pitch black soup. With the same tablespoon she scooped up some of the viscous liquid and sipped with relish from tomorrow's dinner. Suddenly, she coughed and patted her narrow chest with her fist. The spoon fell to the floor with a loud clatter. His grandmother continued to cough, then shouted angrily to Jonathan: “Help me, you little devil. Do you want to let your poor grandmother die?” In the background he could hear the sad tones of the old music box from the living room. A forbidden melody for his ears.

The boy took another step forward, still hearing the whispering voice in his left ear. It whistled softly: “Come on! Now is your chance! Stab! Stab her! I said stab!" Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut tight as the hand with the dagger came up hesitantly. Then everything happened as if in slow motion. The blade whizzed through the air, practically severing it with the action, and then struck something massive. A choked scream came from the older woman's mouth, and then – silence. Jonathan let go of the weapon and stumbled back a few steps. Everything suddenly felt unreal, almost like a very realistic nightmare. There was an unexpectedly loud bang and a low, plaintive whimper. The small boy finally opened his blue eyes and looked startled at the bloodless face of his grandmother on the floor. In the meantime she had pulled the dagger out of her wound on her back and suddenly shouted loudly into the night: “Jonathan Ichabod Crane! You are really the devil's spawn! I should have killed you as soon as Samuel brought you to my door! You're going to burn in hell, just like your damn mother whore and all her suitors! You will all rot in the eternal fire!" The person addressed fell down next to the screaming woman, looked at the angry face without any emotional movement. Soulless, he grabbed the dagger on the ground and raised the weapon again, then stabbed with it again. Blood oozed from the narrow torso. The brown-haired kid cocked his head slightly to one side and blinked lost, ignoring the older woman's screams, which bubbling over with poison and bile. It was far from enough. Jonathan closed his eyes again and carefully worked his grandmother's chest with the dagger. The blood splashed on his face, gradually staining his clothes. It didn't bother him at the moment. His grandmother's screams were long gone. The slim boy collected his breath and stopped stabbing the corpse after almost ten minutes. “You see Ichabod”, the quiet voice purred next to him, “it's far too easy to kill a human being and this witch deserved it. You can be proud of what you did, but now we have to take care of eliminating the body. Let's burn it, as was the custom with witches back then. Come on now. We have a lot of work to do." Jonathan just nodded slowly, feeling a strange emptiness inside of him. The dagger slipped from his hands and fell to the blood-stained floor. Together they left the kitchen as if in a trance, looking for as much fuel as possible to burn the entire property to the ground.

#DC #Batman #Pre Arkham Verse #Arkham Verse #Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #Grandmother Crane #Religious Stuff #Heavy Abuse #Murder #Child Abuse #Violence #Pain and Suffering #More serious stuff

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vvitchering · 3 years

Note

Hey hey hey Bastille anon back at u but not with a song, I'm back bc I just absolutely love your character studies and I'd love to hear your interpretation of religion guilt with Din, bc one of my favorite quotes is "suffering feels religious if you do it right" and every time I read it I think about our poor boy after the season 2 finale, no pressure to do this one tho

Oh boy buckle up cause I have some opinions about this.

(Discussion of religion and religious themes to follow, fyi!)

(First things first, I’m Jewish. So my commentary is going to be through that lens, but you should not take what follows as anything but my own personal interpretations. I do not speak for everyone of my faith/culture! I am just one person with a keyboard. Thanks.)

So I thought about this quote for a while and I have decided that I’m not a fan! Sorry! I don’t like the implication that religion = suffering, or that you’re not performing religion correctly if you’re not suffering while doing so. Ironically it has a very “holier than thou” atheistic vibe to it and that just doesn’t do it for me. Religion, at least in my head, shouldn’t ever be about suffering. It exists, in its purest form, to guide you, not make you suffer.

But Din is certainly suffering, isn’t he?

I actually love discussing religion within The Mandalorian. I know NOTHING about how religion plays out within the larger Star Wars universe so forgive me any glaring misinterpretations here. The Mandalorian Creed, as dictated by Din’s tribe, comes across as pretty strict and restrictive to the average viewer. I saw a lot of negativity aimed towards Din’s upholding of his Creed when I first joined the fandom and it always struck me as odd until I realized most people watching this show are probably Christian.

Through a Jewish lens, I saw a man following a code that helped a broken and scattered people feel united and close to one another. I saw them covering their bodies and their faces in armor not only as a means for survival in a world that would rather see them dead but as a way to strengthen their unity as a people cut off from their homeland and their culture. I saw a tribe of people existing in a world where their brothers and sisters were slaughtered and their bodies stripped of valuables to be shipped off to line the pockets of the empire.

Like. It’s more than on the nose. The pile of empty helmets Din finds when he returns to his covert’s hideaway was absolutely horrifying to me. This had to have been intentional. But I’m getting slightly off topic here so let’s refocus back on Din, re: religious guilt.

Din doesn’t even think to question his devotion to his Creed until he begins meeting other Mandalorians who inform him that he’s in the minority. That “The Way” he was taught isn’t only not the ONLY Way, but is generally thought of by other members of their culture as “archaic” and “cultish”. I don’t think that is necessarily what starts to sway Din from his path, though.

I don’t think he really starts to struggle with his beliefs until he’s forced to remove the helmet in episode 15 (I think its 15, I’m too lazy to go and look right now) From what I can gather about his covert’s beliefs, the removal of the helmet renders the wearer “dar’manda”, “a state of not being Mandalorian, one who has lost his identity, his soul”. So taking off the helmet and allowing himself to be seen by other people has stripped Din, in his mind, of his soul. He will no longer be able to join his family and tribe in the Manda after death.

On the one hand, it’s a testament to how devoted Din is to Grogu that he was willing to forfeit his ticket into his faith’s version of a happy afterlife if it meant his child would be safe. On the other, it leaves him absolutely and completely devastated after he allows Grogu to leave with Luke. He’s just condemned himself to Mando Purgatory for this kid and now he’s alone again. Is there regret? Maybe. Is there anger? Probably! Do I hope we get to see the horrible agonizing immediate aftermath of the scene we leave off of in the season 2 finale? Yes please, I would love to cry some more.

But it certainly leaves Din in an interesting situation, emotionally and spiritually. He’s already been shown there are other ways to be Mandalorian. His Way seemed distinctly Orthodox to me, a little on the extreme side of things. So maybe he can find guidance and belonging in another kind of Way. I think faith is extremely important to Din. I don’t believe he’d ever consider leaving it or giving it up. It’s a part of him and it’s guided his entire life, from the time he was rescued as a child. In the same way his covert’s Way helped keep them safe and whole, I believe he’ll find a new Way that suits him, even if it means he has to piece one together from the shattered pieces of his old one.

To sum up: Religion is important to Din. The Mandalorian “Way” represents more than just religious faith; its a culture and a way of life. I don’t believe Din harbors any negativity or guilt in the way this anon is thinking. (Din loosing his Way is a tragedy in and of itself, not a release or an escape from supposed suffering) I do believe he has some soul searching to do and I very much hope that’s a big plot point of S3. I see him adapting his beliefs, but not abandoning them. I see him meeting more of his people, learning about his culture and history, and building something new and meaningful for himself. I want to see him proudly wear the helmet again, not out of any sense of obligation, but out of honor and remembrance (much the way Boba Fett does, actually. But that’s a whoooooole other discussion hahahaha)

#I rambled a LOT in this fair warning #I just have many thoughts about this particular subject #I hope I even managed to address what this anon was talking about at all #anyway here's me projecting onto fictional characters again #the mandalorian #meta #kinda??#I feel weird calling my own stuff meta because its literally just self indulgent rambling #religion in fandom #anon ask #mine

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impala-dreamer · 4 years

Note

Dean x reader, waking him from a nightmare about purgatory, maybe calming smut?

You’re Home

Dean x Reader

682 Words

Warnings: NSFW. PTSD. Nightmares. Dissociation. Light Smut.

Saturday Drabbles Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

It was low, but his cry woke you.

His back was to you; blue neon from the bar across the street pulsing through the window to halo his silhouette. You could see his shoulders shake from your bed across the small divide, hear his shallow breaths as he groaned, speaking through his dream.

“Where is he… No!”

Your feet were light on the shaggy carpet as you ran to his side. It wasn’t unusual for him to have nightmares, but he was shaking so badly that the bed was creaking. It nearly broke your heart.

“Dean?” You lay a soft hand on his shoulder and it did nothing to calm him.

“Cas… Dammit!”

“Dean, come on,” you kept your voice soft and moved your hand to his cheek, gently patting. “Dean, you’re OK. You’re home.”

“No!”

His hand shot up like a bullet from a gun, locking tight around your wrist before you knew what was happening. He yanked you to him as he sat up, eyes opening wide with panic.

“Dean! It’s me!” You looked up into vacant eyes and tried to twist away from his grip. “Dean, wake up.”

His fingers tightened and yours went numb; he was stuck in something horrible and you had to snap him out of it.

“Dean!” Your free hand cracked across his cheek and he gasped, grabbing that wrist too as he was jarred awake. You grit your teeth, trying not to scream at the pain. “Dean?”

He blinked rapidly and the vision faded as your face became clearer. “Y/N?” He dropped your wrists and grabbed your face instead; rough fingers soft on your cheeks as he pulled you close. He needed to ground himself in reality, break the nightmare’s spell. “Where are we?” he asked, voice cracking as he tried not to cry.

“Wyoming,” you whispered, “Huntsmen Motel off U.S. 14, room eighteen.”

He let out a heavy breath and his shoulders relaxed.

“You’re OK, Dean. I’m here.” You smiled between his hands and watched a tear leave his left eye, rolling sadly down to land on his green henley. “It’s OK, I promise.”

He didn’t say a word, just took a breath and leaned in. He kept his eyes open as he kissed you, watching, making sure you were real. When you kissed him back, parting your lips for him, he calmed, letting his eyes flutter closed and his hands slide away.

When you broke the kiss, he pulled you back, one big hand curling around the nape of your neck as he laid down. You went with him, guided by the pressure of his fingers and the desperate look in his eyes. He needed you with him, needed to feel you, skin on skin, breath on breath.

You hesitated as his hand slid up under your shirt. “Dean… maybe we-”

“Please,” he breathed, lips hot on your throat. “Please, Y/N. I need you.”

He lay you back, naked and shivering in the cool air. His lips mapped your body, remembering every spot, every curve. His hands held you down and wound you up, a steady trek across your flesh fueled by hunger and loneliness.

His eyes were still distant as he thrust into you, the bed creaking now for more than his sobs. You pushed your hand into his chest, palm catching each heartbeat as it raced; beads of sweat dampening your palm.

Tears started to roll again when he came; the release was too much to take. He dropped his head, arms still locked around your sides, hips still between your thighs.

“Dean, you’re OK,” you told him again, hoping this time it would break through the fog. “You’re back. You’re safe.”

He looked up, brows creased with pain, eyes rimmed in red. “Will you stay with me? Tonight?”

Arms wrapped tight around his neck, you drew him down to you, kissing his forehead sweetly. “Of course.”

He lay at your side, curling into you, afraid to close his eyes again. “Thank you.”

Gently, you slid your fingers through his and squeezed. “I got you, Dean. Always.”

Saturday Season Drabbles - Season 8

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @autumnmoon @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @flamencodivadefenderrosetyler @desiree—1986 @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @fangirlxwritesx67 @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#dean x reader #purgatory #saturday season drabbles #feelmyroarrrr #Beka Talks

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chaosangel767 · 3 years

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Business Vs. Pleasure Pt. 2

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing Lucifer/ MC

Type: Angst

Pt. 1 Here

Warning: Swearing

*****The next Morning*****

You wake up slowly, a massive headache forming from all the crying last night. You felt like you had been hit by a truck. You locate your DDD to see tons of messages from the night before when the brothers found out you went home sick and Belphie telling them that you were sleeping and to leave you alone. Almost all the brothers personally texted you to make sure you were okay. Lucifer called you a bunch of times too. There was a lot of commotion in the group chat as well.

House of Lamentation Chat.

Lucifer: Y/n wake up, breakfast

Beel: Lucifer she wasn’t feeling good last night let her sleep

Asmo: Y/n what happened? Are you up

Belphie: Clearly not or she would have responded by now.

Mammon: I’m going to wake her up, it's almost afternoon

Beel: MAMMON LEAVE HER ALONE SHE IS SICK

Lucifer: Mammon I will hang you upside down if you disturb her

Y/n: I’m up guys, why are you screaming Mammon

Lucifer: hey sweetheart how are you feeling

Y/n: Like I got hit by a truck, my head is pounding

Beel: Want me to make you anything?

Lucifer: Take it easy Y/n don’t push yourself to much

Satan: Lunch will be ready in a couple hours if you feel hungry

Y/n :I’m not hungry right now, maybe I’ll come down for lunch

After confirming you were okay you crawled to the shower and started it. While waiting for the water to warm up you look in the mirror and notice your mark missing on your neck. You shake your head before calling Jack. As soon as he picked up he knew something was wrong, I told him everything that happened last night and he just sighed heavily. He talked to me and offered to make me a new dress so that I didn’t have any memories. I gladly accepted and sent him pictures from last night that Asmo had taken of me dancing with the brothers. He got me laughing like he always does and encouraged me to keep my head up. I hung up with him and took a shower feeling better now that my emotions were straightened out. I threw on a comfy outfit ( your choice) and noticed that Satan had announced lunch was ready. I walked out of my room and went to the table slipping in the free spot between Asmo and Beel. Lucifer looked up at me and shot me a smile. I attempt a smile back, but it comes out strained. I drop my head in my hands.

“Y/n would you mind going on a date with me tonight?” Lucifer asked, bringing me out of my daze. I struggle to think of an excuse, not ready to face him.

“She can't, we had a meeting with Simeon and Luke” Beel cut in quickly. I sigh and look to Lucifer.

“Beel is right, I have to head over to Purgatory hall.” I muster my best apologetic smile to Lucifer.

“Don’t forget we have a spa night planned” Asmo sings to me leaning over and cupping my cheek. “ It will help you relax since you aren’t feeling well” I nodded at him, feeling a little upset that I have to keep smiling. I stood up from my Lunch and took my plate to the kitchen.

“You barely ate Sweetheart. Are you sure you don’t want more?” Lucifer asks, catching me as I walk by. I look at him and shook my head, being with him was hurting too much. Beel and Belphie stand up.

“Ready Y/n we should head over soon if we want to get done before dinner” Beel tells me and I nod. We rinse our plates and Belphie whispers to me

“Let me know if you need anything okay?” I nod back and Belphie heads towards the attic while Beel and I head out of the house.

“You okay?” Beel asks once we are away from the hall. I shake my head and feel tears start to form.

“ I have no idea how I am going to make the next 6 months, all I see when I look at him is him pounding a Succubus. It won’t go away.” I said the last few words in a whisper, tears threatening to fall.

“Wait, why do you see that?” I hear Satan behind us, he was walking behind us to Purgatory hall. I gasp and Beel throws eyebrows at Satan.

“What are you doing following us?” Beel asks and now its Satan’s turn to raise his eyebrows at us.

“Solomon and I have to work on a project, so I am going over.” Satan explains. We travel the rest of the way in silence until we walk into Purgatory hall. Simeon and Luke greet us.

“Y/n how are you feeling, are you okay, did you talk to him?” Luke fires questions at me as he hugs me looking worried. I shake my head and sigh, Simeon takes my coat and Satan looks even more confused. Solomon comes in.

"Y/n why did Jack call me threatening murder and wanted me to go check on you?" Solomon looked concerned and I look at him sadly, trying not to cry right here.

“Y/n were you really sick last night or did something happen at the dance?” Satan questions me hanging up his coat and glaring at me.

“Perhaps we should talk about this over something to drink in the living room.” Simeon offers you shoot him a grateful smile and nod. We go to the living room and Simeon and Luke sit with me on a couch while Satan and Beel sit on the other couch. Solomon comes in with some tea and cookies for us and sits in a chair.

“What happened last night Y/n” Solomon breaks the silence first. Luke takes my hand and rubs circles into it calming me. Taking a sip of my tea I look up and meet everyone's eyes.

“Beel and I went looking for Lucifer last night during the party and found him doing some things with a couple of Succubi. I have some evidence and left without me seeing him. I ran into these two and they stayed with me until Beel and Belphie took me home. My mark kept burning last night too, but when I woke up this morning it was gone.” I explained, my voice starting to crack again. I couldn’t control the tears starting to fall down my face. My neck felt strange without the usual buzz from Lucifer’s mark. Usually when I touched it I could feel his warmth and heartbeat, but now my skin was cool to the touch and was like any other piece of skin. Simeon placed his arms around me and served as my anchor until I could control my emotions. Satan and Solomon looked at me shocked.

“Y/n are you sure your mark is gone?” Satan asked wide eyed, I nodded and pulled down the shoulder of my shirt showing that the mark was missing. Satan shook his head and swore. He was shaking trying not to switch to his demon form, a battle he quickly lost. He got up and was shaking in fury. You get up and wrap your arms around him.

“Satan please calm down, it was my fault for believing him” I quickly try to calm him down and Simeon walks over and places a hand on Satan’s shoulder helping calm him down. Satan calms down slowly and sits back down, fury still prominent in his eyes. You know he cares about you and has proven to be insanely protective of you in the past. You and Simeon sat back down on the couch with Luke.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, looking worried at me.

“Drained and betrayed” I replied honestly,Satan looked at me sadly. “It's going to hurt more than normal for some time, your body is also dealing with losing his mark so you will be a lot more tired than usual.” Satan explained, he sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry Y/n, I can’t believe he did this, I wish there is a way to help.” Solomon just sat there and watched what unfolded with sympathetic eyes. After talking for a little bit longer, Solomon and Satan went off to work on their project and you watched movies with Beel, Simeon and Luke.

Suddenly your phone starts to blow up with texts from Lucifer.

Luci

Luci: Sweetheart are you feeling okay?

Y/n: I’m fine

Luci: Are you sure, something in our bond doesn’t feel right

Luci: What are you doing?

Y/n: We are studying with the angels

Luci: Why not study with Mammon or me?

Y/n:Simeon wanted to study with me and Luke made sweets

so Beel tagged along

Y/n: now excuse me I have work to do

Luci: Do not take that tone with me Y/n

Y/n: I have stuff to do Lucifer

Luci: Y/N!

Luci: We will talk when you get home

Y/n: Goodbye Lucifer

Luci: I love you Y/n

Y/n: …

5 missed calls from Luci

“Everything okay?” Beel whispered and I shook my head leaning on his shoulder.

“I may have just told Lucifer off, there is going to be hell to pay later” I reply, he groans and took my DDD reading the messages. He shuts off my DDD when Lucifer doesn't stop calling me. We continue to watch movies until Satan comes down from Solomon’s room.

“I’ve held off Lucifer for as long as possible. We need to go home” Satan informed us. I growl and stand up, Beel stands up a little slower.

“ If you need a place to get away Y/n you can always stay with us. “ Simeon offered and Luke nodded giving me a hug. I nod at them gratefully

“ I’ll keep that in mind, but for now I am going to confront a cheater” I told them, putting on my coat and walking out of the dorm with Satan and Beel. While on the way home I filled Satan in on my fight and he snorted at Lucifer getting possessive.

We walked into the house and it was eerily quiet. I walked into my room with Satan and Beel to see Lucifer sitting on my bed.

“Beel, Satan please leave.” Lucifer commands rising from my bed. Both brothers look at me and I nod, they turn around and walk out of my room shutting the door. I sigh and look at Lucifer. He closes the gap and grabs my shoulders.

“How dare you talk to me like that” He growls out, I glare at him and slowly feel anger built up.

“How dare you cheat on me and act like everything is okay the next day?” I growl back, I saw him visibly tense.

“ What did you say?” he asks again. I look him dead in the face.

“You heard me Lucifer” He pinned me against the wall.

“ DO NOT TALK LIKE THAT!!! I WOULD NEVER” He yells at me. My door flies open and the other brothers come in.

“Lucifer let her go,” Beel said warningly, and Satan is pissed. Luci released me.

“I SAW YOU LUCIFER. IT WASN’T ONE BITCH BUT TWO” I yelled back letting my anger finally go. I didn’t care that the other brothers had entered not knowing what was going on.

“YOU SAW NOTHING!” Lucifer grabbed you again.

“ I FUCKING SAW YOU, YOU WERE FUCKING ONE BITCH AND KISSING ANOTHER” I yank myself out of his grasp, tears finally spilling over. Lucifer looked at you shocked.

“What are you talking about human?” Mammon asked me. He and Levi looked so confused, I sigh and decide to tell them what happened.

“Last night I saw Lucifer cheating on me with 2 succubi.” I filled them in.

“ Y/n dear that doesn’t sound like Lucifer” Asmo was quick to defend Lucifer breaking my heart a little. Mammon and Levi quickly agree with him, clearly not believing me. Lucifer smirked at me.

“Enough Y/n, you need to calm down and tell the truth. You have been cheating on me with Beel.” Lucifer crossed his arms and the brothers all looked at me. I snapped, seeing red and realizing that he was enjoying himself.

“I have done no such thing” I defend, Lucifer’s eyes go narrow and he transforms into his demon form. He goes to hit me but Beel blocks the hit. Belphie and Satan transform into their demon form and stand protectively in front of me. Belphie wraps his arms around me. The other brothers look in shock. Lucifer looked shocked that they would stand up for me.

“I was there last night Lucifer, I saw you cheating on her. I don’t know why you did it and I don’t care, but you do not hurt her because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.” Beel told him as he released his hand and Lucifer backed up.

“ Wait, Lucifer is this true?” Asmo asked in doubt, the fact that the twins and Satan are defending you is making them rethink. I decide to tell Lucifer about my mark and then escape to the library before things escalate more.

“You told me you felt something was wrong with our bond, well it's true, funny you just did not realize it. My mark is fucking gone because you of you. But now i know what it means when my mark burns, you have never been faithful.” I pulled down my shirt revealing the healed spot. Lucifer’s eyes widened and he sits on my bed, clearly dazed by the fact my mark had left and that I found out his secret. I turned and left my room with Satan and the twins.

I fled to the library and Satan put up his hexes so that no one could enter and made the library soundproof. I sent the group the video of Lucifer cheating just to make sure everyone knows and turned off my DDD. I tried to keep the tears at bay, but eventually they spilled over. The twins pulled me into one of the library nooks and let me cry. Satan looked at me sadly and sat in the nook with us. Beel pulled me onto his lap, Belphie was on one side and Satan as on the other. Satan started to read poems to me and Belphie started to play with my hair. The boys held me until I fell asleep.

These three boys and the angels become my anchors the next 6 months, as I heal and finish the exchange program. Luci tried multiple times to get back with me, but I held my ground against his advances. Even Lord Diavolo told him to give up. I had learned my lesson, never mix business and pleasure, even though the lesson came too late.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #lucifer obey me #hurt #angst

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minxyone93 · 3 years

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Hi friends! I recently began my first ever foray into writing fanfic! I started this destiel fic, first propelled by the awesome energy 15x18 gave me, then obviously the energy shifted to just loving Dean and Cas and wanting to give them the nice happy loving (also sexy) times they never got to enjoy in the show. There is very little plot (ok… none) but lots of fluff and smut and domestic times and humor/banter. It’s a low pressure happy place! If you’re looking for a lighthearted fic to just take care of these characters, I’d be honored if you’d consider mine!

P.s. Full disclosure, this is my first fic and I’ve written most of it on my phone. Fyi, the vibe difference that comes with the auto correction from “wings” to “wongs” is astronomical!

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Jack Kline, Eileen Leahy Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Wing Kink, Angelic Grace Kink (Supernatural), Gay, First Time Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Canon Related, Drunken Kissing, Angel Healing, Frottage, Angst, Fluff, Tickling, Ticklish Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, References to Depression, Reckless Dean Winchester, Smut, he sobers up tho, Grinding, Cuddling, Angel Wings, Destiel - Freeform, DeanCas - Freeform, SPN - Freeform, Healing, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Fluff and Angst, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Language, Cussing, Enochian-Speaking Castiel (Supernatural), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cas has big top energy, Dean is a bratty bottom, later they will switch tho, Fear of Abandonment, Fear of Rejection, Making Out, Making Love, Enthusiastic Consent, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Gentle Castiel (Supernatural), Feelings Realization, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, dean winchester is kind of anxious in this one, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Happy Ending, Light Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Sexting, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Jealousy, kind of, Bossy Dean Winchester, Castiel is patient, Castiel is Jack Kline’s Parent, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline’s Parent, Sam Winchester is Jack Kline’s Parent, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting (mentioned), Gay dads, good dads, Domestic Fluff, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Teasing, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester (Mentioned) - Freeform Summary:

Dean has been going on reckless hunts by himself. Cas confronts him and all those years of unresolved pining come to a boiling point.

———————————————————————————————————————————

“Dean. How long?” The angel said, still quiet but so raw with emotion, eyes still wide with shock.

Dean looked down at the floor and sighed. “Since… always. I knew it for sure in Purgatory. But always.” He then added in a near whisper, tears threatening to spill from behind his now closed eyelids, “I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Castiel felt dumbfounded. The constant loneliness and longing he had sensed from Dean that seemed to grow worse and worse with the passing of years made so much more sense now.

“Dean,” was all Cas could say before releasing his grip on his collar and gently, slowly, deliberately, kissing the corner of his mouth. A shocked gasp left Dean’s mouth of its own accord and he melted into Castiel’s tight embrace.

#ao3 #ao3 work #ao3 writer #fan fic rec #shameless self promo #my fic #fan fiction #deancas #destiel #destiehellers #fluff #smut #fluff and smut #fic rec #fic reccomendations #self plug #fan fic writing #minxywrites

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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why do people seem to think i’m a big name blogger

i only have like 1800 followers (or I guess closer to 1900 now?), that’s pocket change compared to some of the people around here

i know there’s people with less, and that doesn’t make you invalid or anything. Because it’s not about size. It’s either about quality or about enjoyment, and really, your latter should come first in fandom. If you have a hobby blog designed to spread enjoyment, then yes, quality. If you positively impact just 5 people’s lives on the regular, you’ve done a good thing.

This falls in line with my “anyone can meta” and moods about who feels comfortable metaing or having those opinions, but it’s become a general sentiment.

And most of all don’t feel like you need to lockstep with me. now, not lockstepping with me doesn’t mean "shit directly on someone’s positive content post like a whole entitled jackass”, but like. I don’t care if you were some little blog with 10 followers that I gave a boost and now you’re kinda popular. you don’t owe me shit.

Because that’s another weird thing and I think people need to practice self-care on this more. Four different people, on four different occasions, that were incensed I wouldn’t fall into borg mind or surrender my opinions, have tried to claim they “made” me. Ironically, none of them did. Like even ignoring my following point, even in the way they meant it -- which is the irony.

When Kelloggs club pounced on my first ever fandom tweet years ago for the sin of having a Cas plushie icon, and I floored them with numbers they had never seen and got blocked by the whole damn hoard in my first hour in fandom like a temporary urban legend, I made me. Sure, they drew attention and made a shitshow. Sure, it led to me being drawn into group chats that expanded my networking and stuff. But I made me. When a big name fan was upset at how much traction I’d gained in a month, because this fandom is obsessed with clout for some goddamn reason, and I stood my ground? They drew attention. But the way I held my ground? I made me.

When TAW went bananas on me for catching him hand in the cookie jar with Misha and my unwillingness to be backed off that turned heads? I made me. Everybody helped with of course blacklisttaw, but I didn’t make blacklisttaw, everyone made blacklisttaw, I just started it. And it worked. Because of everybody. He hasn’t had a non-indie job aside from things being re-re-re-re-reannounced from 2008 plans or things stuck in production purgatory since 2014 releasing late since. That ain’t all my credit. I didn’t MAKE that. I started it, maybe. But you guys made that. I just stood there with a megaphone for those who weren’t positioned to speak, and gave some cornerstones. Everybody else’s work did the rest.

(And ironically, NONE of the people that wanted me to feel like they MADE me were involved in that. I think they all actually came after all of these things.)

The people along the way help. But just because someone helps you doesn’t mean you’re indentured to them, their demands, or even their abuse for life, or touting every single thing they say as truth.

Whatever content you made that got shared? You made that. You made you. Your thoughts, opinions, contributions, choices made you. Someone giving you a digital nickel along the way, or even a digital hundred dolla bill, doesn’t obligate you to them. If they genuinely appreciated your thoughts and content instead of finding it temporarily useful or convenient... then they gained the benefit of your contribution in exchange. If someone had another intent, that’s on them.

(honestly same goes for RL on this point; sure try to repay people but repayment doesn’t mean you’re shackled to them for all eternity and if someone said they wanted to HELP you and then turned around like “ok and the interest accrued is--” or flags it around as some weight? Fuckin’ run. RUN AWAY. “Help” doesn’t come with a leash or a motive. It comes because they want to help. And anyone that spins that around on you -- life lesson -- holy shit. Run. You help people because you care, whether that’s about them as an individual or general human empathy -- not for what you get out of it. And again seriously guys REAL LIFE PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND IF YOU TAKE NOTHING ELSE FROM ANYTHING I EVER SAID. If someone had told me this when I was younger I would have dodged YEARS of receiving violence. It’s like the shittier, less competent version of mob logic, only at least the mob is honest that they’re gonna break your kneecaps if you fuck up before you get started. Y’know what? I value honesty. If you’re gonna demand something, be honest and threaten my kneecaps up front.)

Nobody made you but you. I helped along the way, or some other people helped. But I’m never going to be like HOW DARE YOU HAVE A DIFFERENT OPINION I MADE YOU!!!!!!! because like-- is anybody watching the show right now? Anybody at all? Chuck’s stomping around and throwing hissyfits because hE mAdE thEm AnD hE’Ll ShoW tHEm and like in the end, Chuck didn’t make them. Maybe he influenced things around them. But they’re making themselves.

And I feel like this fandom would do so much better if they abandoned this tribalistic herd mind nonsense for fear of obligation to *whatever* because guys, people who hold you to that? They’re abusers. Like. Literally. No lie. Shit man. Those people online can’t even “make” anyone, because they only make themselves, and then people react to what they’ve made of themselves. Everyone decides they’re too much? Too bitter? Too whatever? Everybody stops spreading their content? Guess what they’ve got. A big ball of Too Much Bitter on their dash and nothing else. But you know what? They made them. They made that. They make that big ball of whatever.

Like congrats guys you temporarily liked my opinions when you liked them and strolled along when I was at like 700 followers already and now that you don’t you’re gonna-- what? Get mad at other opinions? Come on now. People aren’t just tools to be waved around. We’re complex. You’re complex. Hopefully you all treat other people as complex. Never put yourself in a digital collar to jump through digital flaming hoops for fear of some kind of digital retaliation.

Hell, if there’s one moral from How-I-Made-Me in that list above, that’s it, really. Lmao, fuck the borg guys, come on. You do you. My path was essentially “Fuck the bronlies, fuck the extreme con crowd, fuck sexual predators, and fuck extremes of any fandom lane, even if that’s a lane within my own ship.” -- your path doesn’t have to be my path. You make your path. You just share it with people on the way. If they diverge, they don’t get to throw you down whatever hill they’ve declared is the one to go down. And definitely make sure in the land of “all opinions/interpretations are equal” that is said online like a parrot stuck in a loop, you’re not letting them use that to completely ironically steamroll over your own while leaving theirs unchecked of any real compunction.

So no, don’t come shit on my posts directly, don’t come whatever. But don’t ever just lockstep with me, or anyone else, because you feel some weird form of obligation over something as irrelevant as digital clout in the world of a TV fandom that IS ENDING ANYWAY so WHAT THE FUCK. The people you have around you? The views you soak? The follows you have? Good and bad. Those are what are going to paint the rest of your experience for this show you (theoretically) love from here into eternity.

Am I too loud? That’s fine. You do you. Is someone else too perpetually bitter? Don’t tie yourself to them. Pay close attention to what is sculpting your fandom experience in this final hour and into its life beyond. Because that’s gonna be the difference between you keeping love for this show in your heart once it’s off the air or petering off into distressed disfavor for it.

At one point when the show was ending, I thought “I’ma follow every account like in the history of ever” and man was that a bad idea. A few sweeps later and I’ve cleared out bitter bullshit clogging my dash, random cacophony, and have nothing but good shit to reblog again and damn if that isn’t even gonna make the experience of everyone in my proximity better too. Much less my own. And yeah, that matters. It’s called fandom. It’s supposed to be fun. Not obligate chaos.

Either people take you as you are, or they don’t. Fuck the ones that just want parts of you for a time and want to discard the rest. Those people aren’t worth your time. Hell, that even wants to go for people who have dedicated bitter blogs. You wanna be bitter and nasty okay that’s fine, if somebody is just there for some other shit and then gets mad that you’re bitter after goddamn choosing to follow you knowing full god damn and well you’re bitter, they can fuck off too. Stay mad if you want. You do you. I might say it’s probably not the best for mental health and general wellness but in the end that’s still up to you. And put an asterisk that doing shit on tumblr is different than twitter where if you make a bunch of rowdy bitter people in your area and you or they start shit-tagging creatives and doing the above kinda bullshit, no, that doesn’t work the same. Or like the multishipper I saw getting attacked despite making a whole other blogspace to keep their wincest away from impacting other people’s eyes like -- if they’re hunting down that side account just to cause bullshit, fuck them too. Seriously, fuck the borg.

#supernatural #fandom #ethics #honesty #manipulation #independence #group think #free thinkers

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verobatto · 6 years

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Let's make a tour inside Dean's soul

Rewatching SPN with some S14 spoilers alert

Hi everyone! I like to point thoughts that come to my mind when I was rewatching season 8 and adding spoiler from S14 released yesterday.

Sorry if there is a meta o FF or another who write about it, please feel free to comment and add. Bc I love debating!

Talking about what is inside Dean's soul

This idea came to my mind when a heard Famine said this lines to Dean

(gif credit to dean's girl from Amino app)

I remember I said myself WTF? bc I knew Dean was in hell and he lost something there and then lost people he loved so... He was so so empty inside that not even Famine could affect him? Wow that was huge. Then I remember Cas saw inside him too...

(gif credits @dustydreamsanddirtyscars )

And I said to myself, crap... Dean is screwed... He is empty inside, without desires, without NEEDS. And when you took all of that off... There is nothing there... His soul is in there... But with a big black hole...

That big hole is filled slowly with love. And I believe that began in Purgatory.

Ok... I always believed that after Purgatory Dean realized that he was in love with Cas. That there was something more beyond friendship.

And I have the precisely moment here...

(gif de @destielette )

This is the face of REALIZATION. Dean's face here is saying " Oh Chuck, what is this non platonic feeling I'm having right now?"

But is all about the purity in Purgatory... If you know the strict definition of purity is the "freedom from anything that debases or contaminates or restrict." So just only what is pure prevail, without others things that could contaminate. (Sounds familiar? Cleaning all NEEDS?)

How Dean realized that he was in love with Cas and why I presume it was in Purgatory? Because all Human's needs didn't exist in there, I mean... If you clean your mind and your body from necessities like eat, sleep, etc (human stuffs). You'll be focused in the only thing that left... In this case was SURVIVE (bc Purgatory was an hostile place, after all. And this includes find a way out) and with Dean we must added that, without other worries inside him the only worry he have besides this was the need to find Cas. Cleaning all necessity, what remained pure inside him was SURVIVE and FIND THE ANGEL.

Anyone else would be so pissed with his "bro" for left you behind in this kind of dangerous an unknown place, but Dean reacted convincing himself with a weird excuse that the angel flew away from him bc some monster kicked his ass??!! I mean...??? That's your heart giving excuses... Not your brain. That's: "I LOVE HIM AND I KNOW HE WON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS" kind of excuses.

This is the connection between don't have any needs and feeling EMPTY without any desire (Season 5) and don't have any needs and feeling the urgent desire to find your angel: EMPTY HOLE NOW FILLED WITH LOVE. Empty hole is gone!

Now you get it Dean. You are falling in love with this man/angel. REALIZATION! BOOM!

Season 11 confirmed Dean has love inside his soul.

Ok here... Just to mention Qareen the godess who could read darkest desires? And she became Amara. But she knew after seeing inside Dean that she was wrong. There was something else there... She said “Who I am doesn't matter. The real question is, who are you? You're a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel, except... It's cloaked in shame (...)"

The "cloaked in shame" is the repressive part of Dean that doesn't let him freely love that person bc he has shame of himself. He hates himself. And that is the emotional prison where Dean lives. He feel that everything he touches, it breaks. So he pushes down this love, bc he feel he doesn't deserve it. (And this got to do with Character development that I hope we will see with AUMichael possession.)

AUMichael possession as an exposition of Dean's deepest repressed and true feelings.

This is the message or the meaning from the possession. Dean is expose for the first time in his life, he can't have secrets deepest repressed feelings, AUMichael is his mirror now. Like the Empty for Cas.

So... Again... when you take off all Human's necessities that the body requires (now with Michael possession he doesn't need to eat, sleep, etc) what remains is purity. YOUR SOUL AND YOUR TRULY REPRESSED FEELINGS. Is like sifting in the search of gold.

He is an exposed nerve.

And I want to bring here the scene from 14x01 that everyone in the fandom are talking about...

Here... Hi is a prisoner from his own body. He lies having just his broken soul and his deepest feelings. He:s alone with himself, thanks to AUMichael. Time to grow up, Dean. Time to break free from your emotional prison.

I should put here some lyrics from Diney's Mulan, bc is Disney.

"Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

Why is my reflection someone I don't know?

Somehow I cannot hide?

Who I am, though I've tried.

When will my reflection show, who I am, inside?

How I pray, that a time will come,

I can free myself, from their expectations

On that day, I'll discover someway to be myself,

and to make my family proud.

They want a docile lamb,

No-one knows who I am.

Must there be a secret me,

I'm forced to hide?

Must I pretend that I am someone else for all time?

When will my reflection show, who I am inside?

When will my reflection show, who I am inside?"

Sighing... So applicable to Dean, don't you think?

Will be he able to improve himself, and grow in acceptance and love for himself?

Bc... You know... When someone learn to do that... That person breaks free and can love without attachments. (😏) I was repeating all this hiatus about Dean deserving to be loved and saved and grown in acceptance and love for himself so... Please... Spn writers... Don't waist this wonderful opportunity!!! 🙏🙏

Ok... This is all the thoughts that came to my mind for rewatching the season 8 and yesterday's spoilers were like BOOM!! so here it is... This disaster...

Tagging some people for discussion!

@sactownbrowns3 @lovemesomecas94 @evvvissticante @navajolovesdestiel @mrsaquaman187 @magnificent-winged-beast @naruhearts @lykanyouko @destielhoneybee @agusvedder @thedogsled

And anyone who wants to discuss!!

#supernatural meta #spn season 14 spoiler #dean's soul #what is inside dean #aumichael possession #dean winchester

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