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wildwcmen · 4 years

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PINTEREST + PLAYLIST!

Basic Information

Full Name: Cassiopeia Byeol Lee

Nickname(s): Cass

Age: 21-29

Date of Birth: September 30

Hometown: San Francisco, CA

Ethnicity: Korean

Nationality: American

Gender: Cis Woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Religion: Polytheism

Occupation: Artist, student, art teacher, youtuber/streamer (verse dependent)

Language(s) Spoken: English, Korean and some Spanish

Accent: She basically has a valley girl accent

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Jennie Kim

Hair Colour: Black, dark brown

Eye Colour: Dark brown

Height: 5′2

Weight: 110-120 lbs

Build: Petite, weight fluctuates somewhat significantly depending on her mental health, usually carries more weight in her thighs and hips.

Tattoos: Cassiopeia constellation tattoo on her shoulder, moon phases down her spine, hands from creation of adam on her underboob, libra tattoo above her right elbow, this on her left arm, this on her tummy, sailor moon tattoo on her left ankle, the word ‘heaven’ in small font tattooed on her left inner thigh, in her own handwriting.

Piercings: Ears

Clothing Style: Rotates between casual attire (oversized t-shirts, shorts, etc.) and club attire (with a lot of glitter).

Usual Expression: Distracted, confused, smiling, stoned.

Distinguishing Characteristics: Chubby cheeks, pouty lips.

Health

Conditions: C-PTSD, bipolar disorder

Sleeping Habits: She sleeps as late as possible, and usually wakes up very early. Often doesn’t need much sleep at all, other times she’ll sleep all day. Tries to avoid sleep sometimes. Frequent C-PTSD induced night terrors.

Eating Habits: Her diet is the combination of an unhealthy college student and a hippie grandma. She loves fresh fruit (especially mango and pineapple), but she also eats a lot of Taco Bell and McDonalds. She can’t really cook all that well, so she relies heavily on takeout and fast food.

Exercise Habits: She does yoga on the daily and tries to avoid any other forms of exercise.

Emotional Stability: 3/10

Sociability: She prefers being social and hates being alone. During depressive episodes, she will self isolate without meaning/wanting to.

Drug Use: Yes. Marijuana, shrooms, lsd, mdma, sometimes cocaine.

Alcohol Use: Yes.

Personality

Label: The Fallen Star

Positive Traits: affectionate, creative, friendly, funny, philosophical, caring

Negative Traits: emotional, sensitive, clingy, changeable, fickle, flirtatious, obsessive

Fears: Dying young (and alone), losing the people she cares about, never finding love

Hobbies: Painting, cosplay, yoga, meditation, pottery, smoking weed, collecting bongs & pipes, sex (she considers this a hobby).

Habits: Rubbing her temples (when stressed), bouncing/wiggling, leg jiggling, apologizing, doodling, flipping/playing with her hair.

Favourites

Weather: Hot, humid, summer weather.

Colour: Lilac

Music: Chill, vibing pop music and hip hop. Mitski, Jay Som, J. Cole, Maude Latour, Childish Gambino.

Movies: Weird indie movies, sci-fi & stoner comedies. Fifth Element, Star Wars, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Kevin Smith.

Sport: None, unless she’s watching a hot guy play.

Beverage: non-alcoholic is pineapple juice, alcoholic is AMF.

Food: Crunchwrap Supreme

Animal: Frogs

Family

Father: Sirius Lee (he has a different birth name, he literally changed his name because he’s a star nerd)

Mother: Aimee Lee

Sibling(s): Jeffrey Lee, Leon Lee, Jade Lee.

Children: Oliver Gray (adopted, only in her supernatural verse)

Pet(s): Orion (french bulldog, 10 years old)

Family’s Financial Status: Upper middle class

Extra

Zodiac Sign: Libra sun, Aries moon, Pisces rising

MBTI: ENFJ

Enneagram: The Romantic

Temperament: Sanguine

Hogwarts House: Self identified Hufflepuff, actually a Gryffindor

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Primary Vice: Lust

Primary Virtue: Kindness

Element: Water

Flaws

Strengths

Skills & Hobbies

Personality quirks & information for me to keep track of...

Cass is dramatic as a default, but that’s not how she reacts when she’s truly hurt. When she’s actually upset she’s more inclined to shut down emotionally, to completely detach herself. Don’t “worry” about her if she’s throwing a fit, worry about her when she stops talking entirely. If she’s still passionately active in a relationship/connection in a way that involves her usual dramatics, she’s still in it. If she shuts down and gives up, she’s already over it. In short, her dramatics can be annoying, but it’s a sign that she still cares and wants to work things out. If she didn’t, she would be long gone.

#i belong to the stars and sky / cass #stats / cass #i'm going to be slowly posting these for all of my muses xoxo #cass stats

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alj4890 · 4 years

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Christmas Prompt

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) with the prompt of sweet for day 15 of @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge

(Thomas x Amanda) as taken further into the future of the storyline of And Then I Met You.

Masterlist

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms

A/N I can't resist seeing these two with their daughter, Kathleen. In this short, she is around four or five years old. Since she is sweet, this prompt was meant for her.

All I Want for Christmas

Three weeks before Christmas...

"That's enough padding." Thomas grunted when Amanda stuffed another pillow in his waistband.

"I told you to eat more during Thanksgiving." She teased.

He shook his head at her humor. "Why am I chosen each year for this?"

"Because you remember what all the children ask for. We don't want another Christmas like when Matt played Santa." She laughed softly. "I've never seen such a panic when he couldn't recall what anyone wanted except Emerick.”

"Kathleen will realize it's me." He muttered while she helped him on with the red velvet coat.

"Not with your acting talent." She adjusted the wig and beard, smiling when he hugged her close.

He slipped on a pair of glasses and then the hat. He studied his reflection in the mirror. "Well?"

She kissed his cheek. "You look perfect." She smoothed his coat down in the back. "Remember to try and get more detail out of Kathleen. She has said she wants a new baby for Christmas a number of times. I'm not certain which doll she wants."

He nodded and opened the door. "After you, Mrs. Claus."

____________

Thomas tried not to cringe when the children screamed in excitement at his appearance. He searched through the mass for his own little girl and noticed she seemed uncertain as she stood toward the back of the group, looking up at him.

One of Addison and Matt's little girls, Ashley, grabbed his hand while bouncing up and down. "Santa! You came!"

His other hand was grabbed by the youngest crown prince, Ellis. "Did you get my letter? Emerick wrote it for me." His bright blue eyes clouded with worry. "He won't get my presents, will he?"

All the others, except for Kathleen, crowded around him, yelling out what they wanted for Christmas.

Holly clapped her hands and ordered the children to line up. "Each of you will have a turn to tell Santa what you want."

Brothers and sisters quickly got into line while some spats broke out, especially between the Nevarkis-Walker siblings of who should go first.

"I'm the oldest!" Jackson yelled.

"I'm a girl! Daddy said you are supposed to be a gentleman." Juliet countered.

Olivia grinned as they continued to debate who had the right to go first.

"You have to let her go first." Emerick interjected. "Dad said babies should go before us."

Ellis and Juliet gasped in outrage at the insult.

"I'm not a baby!" Juliet clinched his fists.

"Dad thinks I'm a baby!" Ellis had tears in his eyes as Liam rushed over to reassure him that he knew he really was a big boy.

While everyone else joined in on the argument between the royal family and Nevarkis-Walkers, Xavier Beaumont took his little sister's hand. "Come on Mia. We will go meet Santa while they fight."

She smiled happily and walked up there with him.

Kathleen, watching some her friends argue and others be put in line, remained at the back of the room. She leaned against Amanda's leg when she came up beside her.

"Aren't you excited to see Santa?" Amanda asked.

"I am." She wrapped her little arms around her mother's neck when she knelt down. "Do you think he will be happy to see me?"

"I know he will be very happy when you come up." Amanda assured her. "You have been perfect this year."

"I hope so." Kathleen whispered. "I hope I've been good enough for a new baby."

"I know you have." Amanda kissed her cheek. "Santa knows it too."

"Where's Daddy?" Kathleen looked around the room.

"He had to step out for a moment." Amanda explained. "He'll be here soon."

Kathleen held onto her mother's hand as she went to the spot Holly told her to stand in.

Thomas decided to speak in a British accent when Mia scrambled up on his knee and Xavier sat on the other. "What would you like for Christmas?"

Mia giggled while her father took pictures. Maxwell encouraged her to tell Santa what she wanted.

"Mia would like a puppy." Xavier whispered to Thomas. "I don't want one but she does. I want a turtle or a wombat. Please."

Thomas nodded solemnly. "I will see what I can do."

"Thank you." Mia finally managed to say as she hugged him. "Bye Santa!"

"Goodbye." He motioned for Ellis to come up. "Now Ellis what would you like for Christmas?"

"You know my name?" Ellis asked in awe.

"Er...yes." Thomas quickly improvised. "I know all about you."

"Wow." Ellis stared at him. "Then you must know what I want!"

"Santa is getting on in years." Thomas explained. "I need a reminder what you want for Christmas. The elves haven't been the best helpers in that department."

"I want a Star Wars Lego set and Captain America's shield that shoots rockets!" He went through a long list, ending with a new pony."

Thomas posed for a picture before continuing down the line. He glanced over at Kathleen and noticed she seemed to grow more reluctant each time she moved closer. Amanda stood with her, gently running her fingers through her daughter's soft brown curls.

"Go on, sweetheart." Amanda urged when Thomas motioned for Kathleen to come up.

"Will you go with me?" She lifted pleading eyes to her mother.

"Of course." Amanda walked up with her. "Santa and I are old friends."

"You are?" Kathleen's dark eyes widened. "Does Daddy know?"

Thomas snorted and coughed on his laughter. "Your father knows all about my friendship with your mother.”

Kathleen hid her face against Amanda's leg.

Thomas leaned down. "Won't you come talk to me Kathleen? I would like to know what you want most for Christmas. My elves are waiting to hear what it is so that they can create it just for you."

She smiled up at him. "They are?"

"We all know what a good little girl you have been. Whatever you want, Santa will try and bring you." He picked her up and set her on his lap, smiling at the happiness on her face.

Amanda silently urged Maxwell to take pictures of the two. He grinned as he zoomed in on Kathleen's face as she looked up at Thomas.

"Santa," she whispered. "I want a baby."

He grinned. "A new baby doll. What kind would you like?"

Kathleen shook her head. "No I want a real one."

Thomas stared at her. "I beg your pardon. You want a real baby?"

She nodded. "I want a baby brother or sister." She glanced at her mother. "I don't know how you will get it in Mommy's tummy, but do you think you can?"

Thomas looked at his wife and then back down at his daughter. He cleared his throat. "I, well...Kathleen, a new baby is something that can take a long time to happen."

"I know." She pointed at Ryan holding his newborn daughter. "Aunt Holly took a long time to have Harper." Her little brow furrowed in thought. "I would be happy too if it came after Christmas."

Thomas looked down at her hopeful face. He couldn't tell her no. "I will see what I can do."

"Oh thank you Santa!" Kathleen threw her arms around his neck. She hugged him tight. "Thank you!"

He returned her hug. "Merry Christmas, darling."

She looked up at him with a grin. "My daddy calls me that."

"Your father sounds like an intelligent man." He helped her off his lap. He stood up and waved goodbye to the children while telling them he would deliver the presents on time this year.

Amanda followed him out while Kathleen was distracted with Addison helping the children decorate gingerbread houses.

"Well, Mr. Hunt, this might be our most successful Christmas party yet. No crying toddlers in sight." She helped him out of the costume. "What did Kathleen say? Did she describe the type of doll she wants?"

"She was quite specific." Thomas hesistated. "She wants a real baby."

"A real one?" Amanda paused. "You don't mean--"

"She wants a baby brother or sister." He pulled his clothes back on. "She knows it could take some time but would be satisfied with the knowledge that one is on its way."

Amanda sat down in shock. "I can't believe it."

Thomas ran his fingers through his hair, trying to fix the mess the wig had made it.

"How did she take it when you told her she needed to ask for something we could actually have by Christmas?" She asked.

Thomas avoided eye contact.

"Thomas! You didn't--" Amanda's jaw dropped. "Oh no."

"I couldn't do it." He explained. "To only want that and after she has been so good--" he wrapped his arms around Amanda when she dropped her head in her hands.

"We can't tell her that we--" she sniffed. "After all the months of trying to have another, how can we explain that it might not be possible."

Thomas pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "It will happen when and if it is supposed to." He thought back to the doctor's words a few months ago. There was no medical reason why they weren't pregnant yet. Both were healthy. Neither was under stress. Just no baby.

They were the only ones with one child. Those closest to them were either well past the usual two or on their way to three children.

It wasn't that they needed a lot of children, but with both being without family, they wanted Kathleen to at least have one sibling so as not to feel so alone in the world. Now knowing that it was her Christmas wish, the pain from failure hurt acutely.

"We better get out there before Kathleen wonders where we are." Amanda stood up and smoothed her sweater down.

"Amanda..." Thomas stopped her from opening the door. "I don't want you worrying about this."

She looked up at him and tried to find the humor in this for his sake. "I'm afraid I have to worry some. It's my tummy that Santa has to mess with."

_______________

A week before Christmas...

"Daddy! I don't have a gift for Mommy under the tree!" Kathleen pointed toward the brightly wrapped presents.

"I can put you name on one I bought for her." Thomas picked through the packages. "Which one--"

"But I wanted to pick something out for her." A slight pout formed on Kathleen's lips. "Can we go shopping?"

"You want me to take you shopping during the last week before Christmas?" His frown formed at the thought of the crowds.

"Please Daddy!" She hugged his legs.

He groaned during his capitulation. "Go upstairs and get your coat while I call Mommy."

She giggled when he told her she had better have him the best gift under that tree for doing this.

He tried calling Amanda and began to worry when it went directly to voicemail. He knew she had left early this morning to meet with the obstetrician again. He didn't know why the appointment was taking longer than usual or why she had suddenly had multiple within the past week. He left a quick message when he heard Kathleen coming back.

"Ready!" She said, pushing her unruly curls out of her eyes.

He smiled at her excitement. "Let's go."

_______________

"I like that one." Kathleen pointed at a necklace.

Thomas hesistated at the pendant that was clearly meant to represent a family. "It is pretty, but perhaps if we are going for something like that, we should find one with only three hearts."

"No, I think that is the one." She persisted. The attendant opened the case and held up the necklace with five gold hearts intertwined together. "Mommy will look so pretty wearing it."

Thomas reluctantly bought it. "Yes she will."

_______________

"Mommy!" Kathleen ran inside. "Cover your eyes."

Amanda dutifully did so. "They're covered."

Kathleen crept over to make certain there was no peeking.

Thomas walked past with the bag of of presents and hid them in his study. He nodded to Kathleen once the door was shut and she hugged Amanda.

"Hello!" Amanda said with a laugh. "Did you go shopping?"

"Yes, we did." Kathleen curled up in her lap. "I can't wait for Christmas. You're going to love your present."

Amanda hugged her close. "I know I will. You always pick the perfect gifts."

Thomas smiled softly at the two on the couch. "How was your appointment?"

Amanda shrugged and didn't quite meet his eyes. "Fine. It went as one would usually expect." She squeezed Kathleen in another hug. "Are you hungry?"

The little girl nodded.

"Good. Dinner is almost ready. I could use your help setting the table." Amanda smiled as Kathleen rushed into the kitchen.

Thomas grabbed Amanda's hand when she walked by and tugged her close. "Are you alright?" He whispered.

She nodded. "I am." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "I promise. There is no need to worry."

______________

Christmas Eve night...

Kathleen stretched out on her stomach in front of the fireplace. She had some paper, pencils, and crayons around her. She pushed her Santa hat out of her eyes while a serious expression formed.

Thomas and Amanda watched her from the couch, smiling at the somber look on her face.

"What are you working on, darling?" Thomas asked.

"A thank you picture to Santa." She explained.

"Shouldn't that come after Christmas?" Amanda asked.

"He won't be back until the next one." Kathleen pursed her lips as she studied her drawing. "I don't want him to wait that long."

"That is very thoughtful." Amanda told her.

She smiled up at her parents before continuing with her picture.

Thomas rested his head against Amanda's as they enjoyed the quiet moment. His arms held her close while he wondered if there would ever be any other little ones on the floor with Kathleen.

The clock chimed the hour, stirring the couple from their thoughts.

"Time for bed, sweetheart." Amanda told her. "Santa won't come if you're awake."

Kathleen drew one more heart by her name and folded it closed. She set it near the plate of milk and cookies. She then took both of her parents' hands and pulled them upstairs.

They smiled as she jumped into bed and snuggled under her blankets. Kathleen hugged her stuffed corgi close and wished them both a good night.

Kisses and hugs were exchanged followed by the lights being turned off. A Christmas night light glowed near her bed. Amanda tucked her blankets around her before leaving with wishes of sweet dreams.

The couple returned downstairs and settled once more to wait until Kathleen was asleep. Thomas pulled Amanda into her former position and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Merry Christmas." He murmered against her mouth.

She smiled and captured his lips in another heated kiss. "Merry Christmas to you too."

He groaned softly when she left his arms to start setting everything out. "Shouldn't we wait to make certain she is asleep."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "I can't wait."

He lifted an eyebrow in question. "Did you find something Kathleen will love that you haven't shown me yet?"

"I did." She picked up the plate of cookies and offered him some. She then chose one and nibbled on it while pulling out a few sheets of paper from her purse. "I was able to find everything she asked for."

"Good. I was worried we--" He paused and swallowed the bite of cookie. "Everything?"

Amanda nodded, tears in her eyes. "I wanted to wait until at least midnight, but I can't. The doctor had good news for us. The best news!"

Thomas got up and took her into his arms. "What did he say?"

"In six months or possibly less we will meet our babies." Amanda watched his face closely.

"Six months or--babies! As in--" he lost all ability of speech as she nodded. She placed the ultrasounds in his hands.

"Twins." She whispered, still in awe. Her hands moved over her stomach. "This time next year, there will be five of us around the tree." She pressed a kiss to his lips when he remained speechless. "You sir, are a very effective Santa."

#and then i met you #choices thomas hunt #rcd thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #christmas prompts #jlpplays1

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wallbrat · 4 years

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Felicia

I Intro I read a lot. I research. I pay attention to the news. I do a lot of fact checking. I have 10 to 15 news sources and the news I pay attention to is domestic and international. I spend hours fact checking because people lie. I also make mistakes. If you can prove to me, logically, that I’m wrong, I’ll admit it, apologize and write a retraction. Keep all of this in mind as you continue. II History I’m a student of history. My favorite periods are Ancient and Medieval, however, I’ll read about any period. I spent a few years digging into WWII because my Grandfathers served then. For the last few months I’ve been focused on WWI and the Spanish Flu. The H1N1 virus got it’s nickname not because of where it originated. Spain was neutral and wasn’t under media censorship like the countries fighting the war. Anything detracting from the war effort was not allowed so the news you saw then was not impartial. Spain, however, reported on a disease that was killing people. While H1N1 impacted us in 1918 and 1919, there were reports of it back in 1915. Yes, our government knew about it and restricted the information because of the war effort. The H1N1 virus hit America in three waves, the second wave being the worst. A deadlier strain of H1N1 surfaced and was spread by the massive troop movements of the war. It’s been said that the dropping of the quarantine restrictions are what caused the second wave and that’s incorrect. While it was a small factor, the troop movements are what spread the new strain. The cramped conditions and the malnutrition among the soldiers hastened the spread. It’s estimated that 500 million people died from H1N1. While that doesn’t sound devastating today, in 1918 that was about one third of the world population. The transmission vectors for H1N1 and Covid-19 are similar and a century of time doesn’t tend to change that. While we lack the troop movements and the conditions of WWII, we more than make up for that with our transportation technology. If that technology had been present in 1918, the death toll would have been much higher. We’ve been extremely lucky so far, yet stupidity is attempting to alter that. III Rampant Stupidity Why do we refuse to learn from the mistakes of the past? We have people protesting, with loaded guns, because they want a hair cut. Instead of throwing these morons in jail, they are allowed to continue in their stupidity. I have a few questions for these paragons of questionable intelligence. Where did you get your medical degrees? What? You don’t have medical degrees? OK. Then your Google Fu must be strong. What? You didn’t use Google? Where are you getting your information then? Ahh, I see. It all becomes clear to me now. This is not about politics and it never has been. These shining examples of American arrogance are simply angry because they’re being told what to do. They think they know more than the experts and they rage against any kind of restriction. Instead of doing what they need to do to protect their families and themselves, they prove their stupidity by endangering everyone around them. If people are still wondering why I view humanity as a failed experiment, this is a perfect example. IV The CDC I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on TV. They have advanced degrees that qualify them to advise us on disease, contrary to what some might choose to believe. Science is fact. Disbelief of science does not invalidate it. In the middle of a pandemic, these are the people I'm going to listen to. Our politicians have no more training in this than I do and out President is less than worthless. To the idiots protesting: No. Your Google Fu is not strong. You're not a scientist or a doctor of anything. If you won't protect others by doing what you're told then stay away from me an mine. I'm 54 years old with a stressed immune system. I follow what's been laid down because I refuse to put you at risk. I could be asymptomatic, meaning I could have the virus and have no symptoms. Having no symptoms does not entitle me to disregard the advice of the experts. Your Pastor or Priest is no more an expert than you are. Some churches ignored the restrictions and what happened to them? Many got sick and others died that may not have if they had done what they were told. V Trumpus Defectus To be clear, our president is neither insane or damaged. He simply doesn't care about you. As long as you vote for him, you could die immediately after casting that vote. He's a billionaire and you're not therefore you're beneath his notice. You don't care about the feelings of a bug when you step on it and that's all you are to him. He's been trained that way since birth. Most of the other billionaires are just like him, he's simply in the public spotlight. Most of the older politicians are no better than he is. They've been bought and paid for decades ago. The sooner we realize that we're nothing more than voting numbers to them, the sooner we can actually make our votes mean something. VI The Economy Money is nothing but ones and zeros in a computer. The dollar is worth what those computers say it is. The economy should have been shut down completely, No money, no revenue, no bills yet everything continues. We could have stayed home, ordered what we needed until this virus burns itself out. Afterwards we could have restarted things, there would have been no penalties and everyone would have been fine. If we had done that it would have restructured the economy, which is exactly why it wasn't done. Another option would have been to turn all of the billionaires into millionaires. Take everything that the filthy rich have, above $500 million, and use it to pay the American people to stay home. We don't need billionaires or the class distinctions they create. It's obvious why this wasn't done. VII Mental Restructuring Since I can't give our country the mental ass kicking it so desperately needs I have to focus inwards. While I'd like to say that this is by choice, it was forced by recent events. Few things are more painful than discovering, or feeling, that you're insignificant in the scheme of things. During a pandemic, our focus should, understandably, on our families and ourselves. Survival is paramount. Understanding that, with the exception of two people, I've done all of the reaching out to make sure that people are OK. These are the same two people that poke ate me if I've been quiet for too long so I wasn't surprised that they reached out first. I'm not a needy, whiny bastard. I'm fairly self-sufficient, I can order what I need and I'm a fairly good cook. Pumpkin, Onyx and I are fine alone, especially since I'm not a big fan of humanity in general. I love certain people but humanity, as a whole, is a lost cause. I didn't reach out for personal connection. I did it see how my friends were doing mentally. The Covid-19 situation has been tough on everyone, especially those of us with mental illnesses. I'm 54 years old with ADHD, Anxiety, Depression and three hernias requiring surgery, which explains the stressed immune system. If it wasn't for the fact that my meds had been increased a month or two before this happened, this situation would have broken me. Two people checking up on me would not have been enough to stop me from imploding. I would have been reduced to a gibbering mess because of the stress or I'd be dead. I'm fine because I noticed a couple of things about five months ago and I consulted my doctor about it. Most people in this situation aren't as lucky as I am, which is why I reach out. Having only two people that bothered to make sure I was OK was eye opening. I'm forced to reevaluate why certain people are in my life and who remains. VIII Bye, Felicia This has honestly been coming for a long time. There are people that only contact me when they want something, usually money. There are others that don't do anything. It's past time to do some pruning. I don't like giving up on people which is why I've avoided this for so long. There are some that are immune to this. My three adoptive sisters in my local area and the ones I love who are out of state. CA, WA, CO, UT, WI, WY, LA, TN, TX, GA, NJ, NY, NH and MD. Wow. Apparently I love more people than I thought I did. They know who they are. If not then they aren't paying attention. If I contact you or interact with you, in any fashion other than work, then I probably love you. Toxic people are leaving as I can't afford to keep them around. Stupidity is also making an exit. Stupidity is Willful Ignorance so why would I want them around to begin with? I have a perfect example of both. There's a post circulating on Facecrack. This one states that the plight of the jews in the Nazi concentration camps is comparable to the Covid-19 quarantine. An old friend shared that on my timeline. If he had been anyone else, I would have deleted and blocked him without hesitation. The only reason he remains is that I've known him for 38 years. I'm waiting to see what he does next. Student of history, remember? I studied WWII in depth so that means that I know more about the concentration camps than most people. The jews were herded there a variety of ways, primarily by train. They were tortured, experimented on, starved, brutalized, a huge number of them were gassed to death and those are actually the high points. It was much worse than I'll ever be able to properly describe and in no way is it even remotely similar to our quarantine. Freedom of speech does not mean freedom from consequence. We're all free to say anything that we want to. We just need to be prepared for the repercussions that arise. If anyone else is stupid enough to share something like that on my timeline, or share it any other place that I can see, they are gone. No questions asked. All anyone needs to do to understand the difference between the two situations is to read a US history book that covers WWII. Posting crap like means that you're choosing to ignore basic evidence. I have no room for anyone like that so Bye, Felicia. IX Best vs Worst This situation can bring out the best or worst in people. You can rise to the occasion or you can sink into depravity. There are plenty of example of both around us. I'm working from home. My bills remain paid. My cats and I are fed and safe. I choose to help where I can. While it's true that I have little faith in humanity, that doesn't mean that I have to circle the drain with the rest of them. I will always try to help those around me. I've been extremely fortunate during this and that should be shared with those that are struggling. This is going to get worse before it gets better. I hope I'm wrong yet there are reports of increases in the infection rate where businesses are being reopened. The last thing we need is a second wave but I'm afraid it may happen. X Dystopia I look around and I have to wonder if we're ever going to grow up as a species. We keep making the same mistakes decade after decade. It's a wonder that we haven't blown ourselves off of the planet. The truth is that this is already a Dystopian society. It's not as bad as the examples we see in movies and on TV yet we are moving towards that. Compared to 20 years ago, we have less privileges now than we did then. We gave them away in exchange for the illusion of safety. We have privileges, not rights. Rights don't exist and are simply an invention to make us feel superior. If it can be taken away, it's a privilege. XI Conclusion While that last part was a little darker than I intended, it is true. I write, primarily, to relieve stress and to clear out my head. It gets pretty cramped in there otherwise. While this won't win me any friends, I may actually post this. My life needs some simplifying anyway. Namaste

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thorne93 · 6 years

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Inexplicable Fate (Part 14)

Prompt: When a blinding pain overtakes you at work, what will be in store for your life when you run into the Winchesters and learn Lucifer’s son is about to be born?

Warning: Language, pain, angst, violence, fighting (verbal and physical)…fear of insanity??

Word Count: 1923

Notes: This is for @roxyspearing gif challenge. (This is the part with the gif!!!) It’s a Jack x Reader fic (so Season 12 and 13 spoilers) Long, slow burn, (a little slow paced at first).

Feedback always appreciated. Feel free to send a message, ask, or leave a comment! :D

Beta’d by the ever fabulous @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno@rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername@kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

IF Tags: @iamafishandigosplish @myfamilysincarolina @ilovemyangelforever @kazuha159 @bisexualdolphinthings @mysteriouslydeliciouswerewolf@justiceiswater @millard-our-savior @polkadottedpillowcase @hunter-demigod-timelord @octo-cow52 @damnedangel98 @bad-moose

Dean Winchester: @akshi8278 @mogaruke

Sam Winchester: @mogaruke @lenawiinchester

Castiel: @lenawiinchester

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

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A couple weeks went by and things got slightly less tense between Dean and Jack. You and Sam had talked and you agreed to not push Dean to like Jack and to not push Jack to use his powers. Maybe if the stress was off everyone, things would sort themselves out.

You took it upon yourself to start digging into all the angel lore you could. Mainly, to see if you could find out what you were, but also to find out anything for Jack as well. If you weren’t reading, you were practicing your powers, with Jack occasionally coming in to watch you. You ended up joking with him a bit, and he seemed to warm up to you a lot, as he came around you as much as he could. You got him into Star Wars and other nerdy things because you thought it might help if he watched some cinema to understand the human experience.

Sometimes, he asked you to show him how to do something. How to move the pencil, how to teleport, how to focus his inhuman strength. You happily showed him, reveling in the chance to teach him, to be with him, to be near him...

He had confided in you about how he felt nothing when he hurt people. He told you that he said he was sorry, that he felt bad, but he really didn’t. You assured him that it didn’t matter what you were in this world, what mattered is what you do, what choices you make, that defines what kind of person you are. He seemed to like talking with you, because both of you were struggling to find out who you were. Neither of you really knew where you came from.

Sam and you bonded a bit over reading, he helped you find books for what you were looking for and even did some investigating himself, but ultimately finding nothing. But the time together was nice.

Dean and you got back on a better track. He wasn’t avoiding you anymore and his overall behavior was better...ish. You could tell he needed something to lift his spirits, but there was nothing you could offer. How could you? He’d lost most of his family within sixty seconds of each other, and he’d seen it happen.

Sam and Dean took Jack on a hunt. You were against it at first, but Sam pressed that Jack needed the air, and Dean needed to get to know him. The hunt went well, especially since Jack saved Sam and Dean’s life. Jack had told you that Dean even said he did a good job. Which brightened your life, but you knew ultimately, the two of them had a long way to go.

Jack and you were alone while Sam and Dean went on a case. For you, this felt like a test of your will power. You’d never been fully alone with Jack, but now, with no one around, those feelings that lingered beneath the surface were brought to the full frontal of your mind. It also didn’t help the fact that you seemed to be falling in love with him. He was so innocent, and sweet, yet strong and wise. The two of you clicked in every way.

The two of you were sitting in the library as Jack tried to look for a case, and you read lore, but when you looked up, he looked so handsome you could barely stay in your seat.

Lustful images flashed in your head, as if you were watching a rapid slideshow. Moaning, sweating, crying out his name.Things you’d had in your dreams before. Ever since you’d felt this attraction to him, you’d had many dreams of Jack. Every night, in fact. Some sweet, innocent, like picnics in parks, walking side by side in malls, holding hands in the kitchen...Some, not so sweet and innocent. Sometimes they were so powerful, it woke you up, only to find you’d been sweating heavily during the nearly lucid dream.

You didn’t tell anyone. How could you? Dean would be the last person who would want to hear it, Jack wouldn’t even know what to make of it, and Sam would probably have zero advice or ideas. So you kept it to yourself.

But right now, with the way his hair was laying, the way he was frowning at the screen, he looked so...goddamn attractive you could barely contain yourself. Being alone didn’t help. Fantasies of pinning him against the table and claiming him ravaged your brain.

You’d never felt this way about a man, and it was driving you insane. You just wanted to touch him, to touch his lips to yours. Was that too much to ask?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jack asked suddenly.

“Huh? What?”

“I asked if you’re okay…”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Never better,” you lied.

Then you heard footsteps, indicating he approach of Sam and Dean, saving you from your embarrassment.

“How’d it go?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, how was the hunt?” you wondered, looking to them.

“Well…” Dean started.

“Um,” Sam said.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, panic already starting to take hold in your chest.

But then you heard more steps and your head turned...to see Castiel.

You’d never felt so much joy in your life as you did at that moment.

“Hello, Jack...Y/N,” Castiel greeted.

“Castiel?” Jack breathed in shock.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he answered.

You got up from your chair and rushed over to your angel friend, wrapping him in an embrace. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he assured, hugging you back.

“I missed you so much,” you confessed in a whisper, gripping him tight.

“And I you,” he replied.

You let him go, so that he could see and talk to Jack, but held onto his hand. Jack asked how Cas was alive and Dean echoed it.

“Jack, did you bring Cas back?” Sam wondered.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I wanted him back. I begged for him to come back...but…”

“So did I,” you interjected. “I prayed and begged too…”

Curious expressions took over everyone in the room before Dean said, “Well here he is.”

“Because of us?” you wondered.

“We don’t know. Maybe, but we aren’t sure,” Sam answered.

“Thank you, both of you,” Castiel said and you smiled at him, sweet and soft.

“I missed you so much,” Jack said as he stepped forward to wrap his arms around the angel. You let Cas’s hand go and stepped away, giving them a proper introduction.

“They tell me you’re doing well,” Castiel said.

“I am. Watch this,” he said as he walked over and made the pencil move, easily, you beaming with pride at his side. He went on to tell you all of a possible zombie case. To which Dean was thrilled for, in Dodge City, Kansas.

The car ride over wasn’t incredibly comfortable as you had three to the backseat, but you were in the car with the people you cared most about in this world, so you didn’t mind one bit. Dean picked the Wild Bill suite, which was not your style of suite, but hey, this was Dean’s little vacation, and he needed something to make him happy.

Dean was ecstatic with all the cowboy memorabilia and you couldn’t help but be delighted for him. He deserved this.

“Y/N, you can have the couch, since I don’t sleep much,” Jack offered.

“Well Castiel doesn’t sleep at all,” you remarked.

Dean and Sam got settled while you, Cas, and Jack reunited. Jack asked Castiel so many questions, and you just sat, listening, happy he was home. They talked for hours, and you knew Jack was hearing things from Castiel he desperately needed.

The four of them went out and worked the case for two days, and you were reading the Bible when the four of them returned, and they didn’t look too good.

“Is everything okay--Jack!” you cried, jumping up at the sight of his bullet holes. He’d been shot. Clearly not hurt, but it always scared you, nonetheless. Your hands flitted to his jacket, barely touching the holes. “What happened?”

“I killed someone,” he nearly growled as he pushed past you and went to sit on the couch. Sam, Dean, and Cas gathered on the opposite side of the room to talk. You joined them.

“What happened?” you said in the lowest voice you could manage.

“We caught the ghoul, we were in a showdown, when Jack thought he could take him down. As it happens, the guard for the bank the ghoul had just robbed ran out, getting caught in the blast zone,” Dean explained.

“There was nothing he could’ve done,” Sam assured. “By the time Jack started the attack, it was too late, the guard was already there.”

Concern painted itself on your face as your heart ached for him.

“I’ll go talk to him,” you said, leaving the three of them there to talk. You went over and sat next to him. “Hey. It was an accident,” you said.

“A fatal one,” he said, not facing you, his voice low. “You weren’t there. You have no idea.”

“No, but I know you’re a good person,” you said kindly. “People have accidents all the time. You wouldn’t believe how many people do something like this,” you tried.

“Really? How many people deal with celestial powers out of their own control?” he demanded, turning to you.

“Jack...That’s not---I was just saying--”

“Well don’t. Just stop. Please. The last person I need trying to tell me it’s not my fault is you,” he said, turning away.

“Oh...Okay...I’ll just...go then,” you said as you got up. Jack needed space and you always respected that, especially at a time like now. So you left the suite and went outside for a minute, soaking up the sunshine and the warmth, trying to ignore how Jack’s response to you made you feel.

“Y/N?” Castiel said behind you.

“Hey, Cas,” you greeted lightly.

“Dean wants us to take Jack back to the bunker.”

“And leave the case?’ you wondered, confused.

“No, he’ll stay here and take care of it.”

“We should,” you agreed. “He doesn’t need to stay here.”

“You should try to talk to him, again. He’ll listen to you,” Castiel informed.

“No, he won’t,” you said, shaking your head. “You heard me in there. I tried, and he just snapped at me. He doesn’t want my help.”

“Y/N, when I look at the two of you, I see a bond. It’s unlike any we have with him. It’s like the bond Sam and Dean share. Immovable. Irrevocable. Jack...He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.”

“And how would you know that, Cas?” you asked, sardonic.

“Because I do the same thing with Sam and Dean,” he answered. “He’s mad at himself, not you.”

“I just want to help him,” you whispered. “That’s all I want.”

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

On the way back to the bunker, Castiel had tried to help Jack, but he continued to stay mad at himself. Sam and Cas backed off and didn’t bother him when you all returned home. You sat in the library with him, wanting to talk to him, wanting to console him but he said nothing for a long time.

Until he leaned forward and whispered, “I’m sorry for getting upset with you. I just...I am so sick of people getting hurt every time I try to do something good.”

“That’s what an accident is,” you reminded gently.

“Yeah? How many accidents have you had?” he wondered, anger in his hushed voice.

A solemn expression took hold of your features. “Jack...That’s not fair...You didn’t mean to hurt him, you know that.”

“Do you know why I said what I said to you?” he asked suddenly.

“When?” you wondered.

“When I said you were the last person I wanted to tell me that?”

“Oh...yes,” you said, nodding. “No, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Because...I can’t bear the thought of being evil in your eyes,” he said, peering at you, that same feeling that always washed over you, happening all over again. “I didn’t want to disappoint you…”

“That could never happen,” you assured.

“After days like today, I’m not so sure. I was just...I was trying so hard to impress you…”

“Impress me? Jack, why would you want to impress me?”

He pursed his lips and his brow furrowed as he seemed to think of a way to answer you. “Because...I want you to prove to you I can be good. So I can be someone you deserve.”

“Why do you think you need to be someone I deserve?” you wondered, desperate to know if he felt the same about you as you did him.

But the answer would have to wait because Dean opened the door just in, coming in stating he had taken care of everything, to which Sam replied “good”, and that seemed to set Jack off.

“Good?” Jack said, getting up and marching into the war room. “How is that good? I killed someone. What was his name? The guard? Did he have a family?”

You quickly followed behind him, standing to his side. “Jack, don’t,” you pleaded. “Don't do this to yourself.”

“No, I want to know,” he replied earnestly, glancing your direction briefly. “Did he?” he demanded again, his eyes set on Dean.

“Yes, he did,” Dean answered, making your weary eyes shift to him.

Sam spoke up and said, “Jack, look, this life, what we do, it's it's not easy. And we've all done things we regret.”

“Just don’t,” Jack warned, turning away from everyone. “You’re afraid of me,” he said quietly, as he went to face them again.

“No,” you assured as you took a step towards him, your need to comfort him kicking in automatically.

“No, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just another monster,” he thought out loud, his words piercing straight through you.

“Jack...No. You’re not a monster. Monsters don’t care if they hurt someone,” you said, echoing your words from weeks ago, trying desperately to remind him that he was good.

“She’s right. You're not a monster. I thought you were. I did. But like Sam said, we've all done bad. We all have blood on our hands. So if you're a monster, we're all monsters,” Dean said as he circled the table.

“No, you don't--Every time I try and do something good, people get hurt. I thought I was getting better. I'm not...I don't know what I am, but I know I can't make the world a better place, not like this. I can't even do one good thing. And I know that if I stay, I'm gonna hurt you. All of you. And I can't. You're all I have,” he said solemnly, his eyes flashing to yours and lingering for a moment, the feeling of paradise inside them and inside you as you looked into them again.

“Jack,” you softly said taking a step towards him, but he took a step back.

“Please...don’t,” he begged, his voice breaking.

“Jack, listen,” Sam tried.

“I have to go,” he said, his head hanging.

“No, Jack,” Castiel intervened.

He held his hand up and your eyes widened. “No!” you pleaded, realizing what he was doing, but his mind was made up.

A powerwave came from his hand, blowing through you, but knocking the other three men in the room far off their feet, hitting the nearest object or wall.

“I’m so sorry,” he told them, heartbreak in his voice and face, and he disappeared.

“Jack!” Cas said when he got back up. The three of them scrambled to their feet and searched for him.

“You won’t find him,” you confirmed quietly. “He isn’t here.”

“Well where the hell did he go?” Dean demanded gruffly.

“I’m not sure. I can’t see where he is. I can only feel him,” you explained. “I need to be with him,” you said quietly, ready to teleport and be by his side no matter the cost.

But Dean asked you a question, interrupting your plans. “Why didn’t you get knocked on your ass when we did?” Dean wondered.

“I don’t know… His powers don’t affect me,” you replied.

Sam frowned at you. “Wait, the day he was born, he knocked all three of us back, that affected you.”

“I wasn’t expecting it. It was like a sucker punch, but with energy,” you explained.

“So if you can feel him, get him back here,” Dean commanded.

“He isn’t a dog, Dean,” you snapped. “I can’t just grab him by the leash and yank him back to the dog house.”

“Are you kidding me? We’ve got a ticking time bomb only you know where, and you want to let him wander?” Dean demanded, getting in your face.

“Dean,” Sam said, trying to get him to calm down.

“I didn’t say I wouldn't try try. I’m just telling you if I do find him, I can’t pull him back here even if I wanted to. I can find him, and ask, but that’s all I can do.”

“Well then do that,” he told you.

“Okay. I’ll be back if I have anything.”

#inexplicable fate #we have a gif for that #jack kline x reader #jack kline fic #jack kline #dean wincester #sam winchester #castiel

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ishouldprobablybewriting · 6 years

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On Wanting, Avoiding, and Leaving

So a few weeks ago, @honeydrippin-cutefattie messaged me gushing and being an absolute amazing and adorable human being so I decided to write her a thing. Its completely late cause I’m a slack human being but still.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Cas x plus size reader

Word Count: 2558

Tags/Warnings: None. Language and sexually suggestive themes, maybe?? Seriously though mostly just fluff.

It had been one of those days. One of those hot, sticky, shitty days. Strike that- it had been one of those weeks. Literally. You were covered in residual gore and funk and sweat from weeks' worth of hunts in the middle of May, mostly around and between Texas and Tennessee, that couldn’t be washed off with just a quick fucking shower in the motel. Which was only made worse by the fact that it was following a month of non-stop hunts. It had been well over six weeks since the Winchesters, and you, had had a breather, much less been back to the bunker. But you were finally home. Dean pulled into the garage and you were pushing on Sam’s seat before he could even open the door, begging to get out. Your plump arms were heavy with your pack, and despite your rounded size, you squeezed out of the Impala and made a beeline for the showers.

You grabbed a towel from one of the storage closets along the way. You dropped the duffle bag with a thud by the shower door, and took your clothes from your pack. And then dropped them. The stench was palpable. Guess the quarter-mat and sink-washes didn’t quite do the job. You pause for a moment, considering your options. Option one: Take a shower, put on clothes that smell like monster guts. Fuck that. Option two: Walk all the way down the hall and back just to get clean clothes before you can shower. Eh. Better but not ideal. Option three: Say fuck it, shower, cover what you can with a towel after and walk back to your room quickly after. Not great either. But, honestly, it’s not like you, nor the boys, were particularly body shy- despite the difference in your body types with the boys all tall and lean and muscle and you soft and round and curvy. Fuck it. Option three it is. You strip off your black, thread-bare tee-shirt and peel your jeans off your plush body. The spray of the showers in the bunker was mercifully strong and the water heater- enchanted- was quite literally never ending. The room filled with steam quickly which helped undo the stress of the past few weeks spent slashing your way through the American south. What really worked wonders, though, was the harsh pounding of the water pushing against your muscles and burning your skin slightly. After thoroughly scrubbing off of the first few layers of skin, you begin to feel more like yourself. More like a person. You spend a few moments more breathing in the steam and releasing the tension from your muscles. You turn off the water and wring out your hair a bit before finally toweling off while stretching out muscles a bit. Taking one last deep breath of the fresh steamy air, you wrap the towel around your plush body, holding the not-quite-long-enough towel tight across your soft breast and tucking the ends under one arm. It didn't cover everything, but it covered most of the important bits. Your thighs still showed in all their jiggly glory and the swell of your plump ass caused the towel to rise up a bit and show it off. You snatched your bag off the floor and wrenched the heavy door open. You heard the boys down the hall in the war room laughing loudly at something. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. You just wanted to crash, hard, into your bed and sleep. You walked down the hall, towards your room- and the war room- and heard him. Cas. The angel you try desperately to avoid. And couldn’t bare to stay away from. “I do not understand. I did not tell a joke.” You could almost see his head tilting like a puppy dog while his blue eyes shone, eyebrows scrunched as he tried to figure out why the boys were laughing at him- again. Sam turned his head and saw you, “Yo! Finally out?” Of course Sam called you out. “Yeah, yeah.” You stopped at the end of the hall, leaning slightly against the wall, bag clutched in one hand and towel clenched in the other. “Not my fault you two were too slow to get in the shower first.” You send a wink towards Dean, “Couldda joined me, if you were in that big of a rush.” Sam groaned and Dean laughed, “Yeah, maybe I’ll take you up on that next time, kid.” You made sure to keep your eyes on either of the Winchesters and strictly off the angel. You weren’t stupid. You know how he looks at you. How he pines for you and searches for you whenever he shows up. But you weren’t going to act on it. Not until he gave you conformation. You couldn’t risk it. “Jesus. Will you go get dressed, please? And stop flirting with Dean!” Cas’s head swung around and he tried not to glare at Sam, before giving you that pleading look again. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t resist looking at you like that. Like he needed you. Like he would go to the ends of the Earth, to Heaven and Hell and back for you. Literally. \At first it was your soul. He was attracted to the brightness. It was sparky and soft. And warm. Like nothing else he had ever felt.

Then it was your actions and your words. You seemed to have this way. No problem killing monsters and getting bloody, but still able to genuinely comfort and care for victims. You were kind enough to stop the brothers before they wiped out a pack of vampires who had gone vegan, working as mediator while things were being worked out, yet diligent enough to continue checking up on them to be sure they stuck to their diet. Hard enough to damn near decapitate whatever monster of the week popped up in a single swing and yet soft enough to care for three weeks for a baby left after a rougarou started snacking on her family. Smart enough to know, fluently, at least six spoken languages and three dead ones, but humble enough to know that there's an eternity more you could learn. Flirty enough to keep up with Dean, but down-to-earth enough to be approachable. That, of course, was a whole nother problem. Forget the fact that Cas was convinced you weren’t interested, or that even if you were, he wouldn’t be able to make you happy, to keep up with you. He hated watching you be approached by man after man- and sometimes woman- when you went drinking with the Winchesters. So he tried to stay away. Tried to distance himself. It just made him think of you more, worry about you more. He almost couldn’t stand it anymore. Which is why he was standing in the war room, mouth agape, staring at your soft, thick thighs. He wanted to feel your warmth. First hand, preferably. “Alright, well. I’m fuckin’ beat. Night, ya’ll,” you announce. Sam and Dean chorus the sentiments back and you turn to head back to your room. You try desperately to ignore the slight gasp from Cas as you turn around and the towel you were still clad in, slipped slightly from your body, showing more of it to him. And the boys. Mostly to him.

Dean slapped Cas in the ribs after you left. “Jeeze, man. Just go ask her out already.” “What?” Cas looked at Dean, back after you then back to Dean. “No. Don’t be absurd, Dean.” “Absurd?!” Dean sat up quickly. “Are you kiddin’ me?” Cas got that look on his face again- head tilted, eyebrows scrunched, eyes searching. “Seriously?” Sam chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief before taking a swig of his beer. “What? Dean, I don’t understand. Why would I ask her to leave? She is a valuable member of this team.” “Dude,” Dean started, laughing at Cas’s expense, “Go. Ask. Her. Out. On a date. You’re obviously into her.” Cas let out a disgruntled noise, “That would not be advisable.” “What?! Why not?” Cas just stared at Dean and sighed. “Dean…” “Look, Cas,” Dean slammed his beer down, “Ask her out or don’t. But stop looking at her like that,” he gestured to Cas. Cas pressed his lips together and thought about the plump woman of his - well, not quite dreams. Angels didn’t sleep so they didn’t dream the way humans did. But Cas knew, even Heaven would seem lackluster without her. He was at an impasse. Cas had seem the types of men that she brought back to the hotel room, or went home with. Cas did not fit her “type”, as Dean would say, at all. Surely she would feel uncomfortable if he did “ask her out”. It would islate her. She would leave. He wouldn’t even be able to look at her anymore. She would leave. Sam and Dean would blame him. She would leave. That was unacceptable. He wouldn’t do anything to risk her leaving. It would be easy.

It was not easy. The following week consisted of: Dean all but living at the bar in town, and going home with a different woman every night; Sam spending the majority of the day running and doing a thorough restock of spell ingredients; and you demanding Cas’s help in rearranging the library and the war room to make it more efficient. Which, under normal circumstances, Cas would have been ecstatic to do. Except, it seemed like you knew of his feelings and were bound and determined to make him act on them. Temptress. Tuesday you wore ratty gray sweatpants and a tank top because “Fuck normal clothes”, or so you said, But what got him was how you bounded from the kitchen, singing his name out to find him with not just one but two cups of coffee in your hand. Your simple kindness softened his heart, yet again. Wednesday he found you seated on the floor surrounded by ancient books, sorting them as logically as possibly, and cussing enough to make even Dean blush. It was strange how endearing he found your colorful vocabulary. He followed your orders dutifully, sorting and moving books with a smile. By Thursday, Cas was sure you were trying to torture him. He heard you call for him and when he appeared, he damn near lost it. He actually whimpered. Fuck. You were bent over looking for something- he couldn’t look away from you long enough to figure out what it was- and the grunting fueled the sinful thoughts the black shorts sparked as they rode higher and higher until the soft curve of your ass peeked out from under the cuffs. The long whining “Caaasss!” and accompanying ass jiggle from you stomping your foot truly tested him. He avoided you for the rest of the day. It didn’t stop him from thinking of you though. Friday, Cas resolved, you would not be able to tempt him. He found you in the library reading, three open books, stacks of closed books nearby and a full mug of what he assumed is now-cold coffee in front of you. He noted that the books open were all three different languages, one extremely ancient. The scribbles on the page proof that you had been translating them. You were wearing the same shorts and off-the shoulder sweater from the day before. Cas took a deep breath and pointedly avoided looking at your plush warm thighs or soft silky exposed shoulder. He chose instead to keep his eyes on the table. He licked his lips and took a deep breath, “Have you been here all night?” You jumped a bit and looked up at him. Your eyes were wide and a soft smile grew on your face. “All night?” You clicked your phone and saw the time- 9:30 am. “Oh. Yeah…” You looked around and saw how all the books and artifacts you were organizing were still in stacks scattered around the room and your coffee- that you swore was steaming and fresh not five minutes ago- was not just room temperature but stale. “I guess I have been,” you smiled at Cas. “I have have gotten a little distracted waiting for you to come back.” All plans Cas had of keeping himself away from you, avoiding making you leave were gone. His feathery brain short-circuited and he couldn’t think of anything else but your round face, how your eyes sparkled at him, how bright your smile was. “Beautiful,” he breathed. You tilted your head, scrunched your eyebrows and smiled at him questioningly. Cas suddenly realized he had said that out loud. He didn’t mean to. Your smile slid into a smirk, digging into one of your chubby blushing cheeks. “You think I’m beautiful, Cassy?” you teased. Cas stiffened and stood up quickly to make his retreat. His plan was failing miserably and the best tactic at this point was retreat, obviously. But you caught his wrist and no matter how lightly you held onto him, he would never shake you off of him. Cas wasn’t sure he was even physically capable of doing that. “Cassy?” you questioned, standing up and stepping closer to him. He still refused to look at you. “Cas.” Your demanding tone finally got him to turn. His eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed. You grinned up at him. “So?” “Absolutely.” Your smile and the energy that burst from your soul and seeped out your rounded, gently curving body melted him and gave him courage to continue. “You’re the most amazing creature I’ve ever seen. Heart, soul, body, brain. You amaze me.” Cas leaned in slowly, asking for permission and searching your eyes for rejection. He found none. Your finger met his lips and you looked at him suspiciously. “Nothing you learned from the pizza man.” Your eyes raked down him, “Not yet, at least.” You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours in a soft heat. When you finally pulled away, Cas looked at you like he was trying to figure something out. “What?” He was silent for a second more, “I don’t want to make you leave.” You looked at him for a beat. Then two. Then three. Then, you busted out laughing. Not a cute giggle or a soft laugh but a loud, snorting braying kind of laugh. “Oh Cas! I’m not going anywhere. I swear.” The look of relief that washed over him was almost comical. It made you smile. “Is that why you didn’t come back last night?” “I, uh…” Cas flushed bright red, “that is…. Yes. Yes it is.” He sighed, the cat was out of the bag- another saying Dean had taught him. “I was afraid that my feelings would be… unrequited. And, upon you finding out about them, would make you leave. I did not want to make you uncomfortable.” “Huh. I thought you were just avoiding me because you didn’t like me.” “No!” “Well. I, for one, am glad we got this cleared up. I mean, I have a ton of questions but I can ask those after you help me clean this mess up, Cassy.” Teasing him was just too much fun. “Is this where I am supposed to ask you out?” “Yes, yes it is.”

#castiel #cas #cas x plus size reader #plus size reader #castiel x plus size reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #oneshot #fluff #My writing

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lady-nevermore · 7 years

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Third Session

June 5, 2017

Yesterday I:

5AM - Went to Church with my mom (been finding it really relaxing and peaceful actually).

8 AM - Accompanied and Went with my folks on running their errands.

12/ Noon - Went to the Flea Market (haven’t been in lke forever, saw a bunch of cool stuff like always) and at the behest of my parents, whom also decided to give this a go, got a message......I actually feel like it loosened me up a bit....feel a lot more: sensitive/tender around my shoulder area/neck...at least i don’t feel those damn kinks anymore....but idunno if i like feeling this tender/sensitive/vulnerable around there. >_>;

1-5 PM - Went the Grocery Store and spent the last remaining hours looking for that dratted, evasive gift-bag (more details below in a sec). >_<;

6-7 PM Ate Dinner, and Took a shower.

8-9 PM - Went to bed, and actually slept well.

Today I:

- 6:45 AM: Went with my mom, for the third/fourth time this week, walking around our local Half Library/Half Duck Pond (powered-walked for an hour and saw a bunch of the local wildlife: Squirrels, ducks, geese, robin-birds, crows, etc). It’s always very nice and soothing to see, not to mention it makes me smile. :)

- 7:00-11:00 AM: Did some housework, laundry, made and prepared dinner for tonight as well as for the following days, and tried to fix my TV (sorta worked....still pending....we’ll see).

12/Noon Ate Lunch (made myself a small Tuna Salad with cucumbers, and spinach, with a side of baby carrots, a couple of pieces of store-bought Sushi, and a granola bar); it was really nice actually. :)

1-4 PM Tried to take my mind off my nerves/anxiety a bit, managed to listen to music, and read a bit before mentally preparing myself for My Therapy appointment at 5 PM.

6-7 PM: Ate a healthy dinner and afterwards have been writing this therapy blog up till now......Looking at the clock: it’s 9PM *sigh* -___-;

9 PM - Gonna get off tumblr, take a shower and head to bed (whilst reading a fanfic); G’night y’all *yawn*

So yeah, Today and Yesterday have been semi-stressful (a little bit hectic) to say the least; Y’all remember my ‘Aunt C aka The Poor Excuse of an Aunt who emotionally traumatized/abused me when I was 5, well her daughter let’s call her “Jay” has a Graduation this upcoming Friday....Ironically enough, Jay is graduating from my old alma-mater/my old high school: AHS High.....I’m not that close to Jay for obvious reasons (I’ve sorta sub consciously stayed away/distanced myself away from them in order to avoid Aunt C.....but then again I rarely like to spend time with or at family reunions, nowadays anyways). >_>;

But that’s beside the point; I’m proud of my younger cousin, proud and happy for her: she’s an AP student, got a full scholarship to UC Davis (aka the College I’ve always dreamed of going as well as the same old alma-mater of my Old Mentor/Friend who passed away but meant a great great deal to me to the point where he left his mark/imparted his memory onto me), and who is so amazingly ambitious that my dear cousin jay dreams of becoming a Doctor. This is why I’m soo damn proud of her (tho a selfishly part of me does feel a twinge of jealousy/envy....but my happiness/pride of her is far greater), She’s probably going to be one of the few in our family who might actually achieve graduating from a legit University, and effing applaud her for that. I mean I know that we may not be close (nor do I know If I would ever want to be, considering her connection to my abuser aka my Aunt C/her mother)....But despite that, it is in my nature to try to look past that and kindly offer a gesture of happiness in congratulating her, cause I am honestly quite proud of her. :)

....Which is why I decided to impart to her what my old mentor/friend imparted onto me when I graduated from AHS High: A nice couple of (and by couple I mean 2) boxes of Tea, specifically Vanilla Chai Tea and Earl Grey ; My Mentor, let’s call him Obi-Wan (cause he was a huge die-hard fan of Star Wars), well Obi-Wan always said that Tea helped him to relax, and I wholly agree with him in this statement, it’s been around 9 years since he introduced me to the Wonders and Joy that is Tea (and 8 years since he passed away from Colon Cancer), but it’s something that I feel will always connect me to him, and in turn is my own personal means of honoring his memory.

So, I hope that my little gift/gesture to Jay (isn’t too cheap/offensive in her eyes or my Aunt C’s in that matter) and that it will help her to relax throughout her fun, but what I’m sure will be quite the stressful venture that is College/University (I dropped out, something I’m ashamed of, so I can’t talk or say much on the matter, but I do hope it’ll help Jay in the long run). I say this in all seriousness, because I ended up having a nervous-breakdown by taking waaaaay too many college-courses/classes (around 5-6 tops) what with my mentor/friend passing away, plus me struggling depression, pushing my friends outta of my life/cutting them off, as well as struggling with said classes and me being sleep-deprived on top of that didn’t help....it was just too damn much and now here I am now (struggling with anxiety and going to therapy....though my issues have been long since precedent and something that I’ve been dealing far longer) but the point is Jay is a High ranking AP student and off to a legit High Ranking University......that can’t be easy on her poor shoulders the bear, which is why I worry and hope she doesn’t repeat my mistakes........hence a few kind, meaningful, soothing words of wisdom on the graduation card I got for her, as well as the heartwarming gesture of Tea. But yeah, I hope it at the very least make her smile (and think oh, how appropriate, Tea: a nerdy gift from my dorky cousin Lady Nevermore). lol x)

So I told my Therapist that I woke up today feeling melancholic for no apparent reason (or so I thought); But my therapist thinks that I might me projecting my stress/anxiety from Yesterday (when I was trying to find/prepare the perfect gift for me to give Jay for her Graduation) onto today; She’s not wrong ....I was sorta freaking out, yesterday, that we were never going to find the perfect gift-bag for the occasion (not to mention that my indecisiveness/pickiness didn't help)...most of the gift-bags were either too tacky or not appropriate (birthday gift bags for example)....but in the end I got lucky and found the perfect one, yay! :D

So yeah, I talked to my therapist about my anxiety/fear that Jay ro my Aunt C will find my gift cheap/offensive and or worse, she’ll want to start to get close to me (and considering her connection to my abuser, having my Aunt Cas her mother)......yeah that’s not something I’m at all entirely comfortable with, like at all. :/

We talked a little bit about my Mentor/Old Friend, Obi-Wan and how his passing/death affected me aka via anxiety-terror filled nightmares, etc (but I don’t really wanna get into that atm, maybe later or some other time). We discussed how my therapist is glad that I’m continuing to go outside (going to church, walking around the library-duck pond area, and going to stores or to the grocery store with my folks; it’s been three weeks more or less of this now without me feeling too overwhelmed)

2nd Piece of Homework: Note to Self: Notice and become Aware of what triggers my depression or anxiety during stressful/anxiety-filled situation and write it down (this way we can start identifying what triggers my anxiety/depression and what me and my therapist can start to work on).

****Pretty sure I forgot a lot of other stuff, and I will probably try to add more to this later or post another one of these the following weeks, but for now this’ll have to do.

Just got back from therapy (around 6 pm-ish and it took me a while to eat dinner, not to mention get on tumblr and organize my thoughts in order to write this blog) and I’m Feeling sorta tired/drained/low-key sorta cranky and i really really really just wanna go shower and go to bed right now (and recharge); sucks cause I really wanted to start pick up where the anime in Bleach left off, and start reading the manga (Bleach) and / or watch one of the bleach movies....or another Ghibli film.....or hell, at the very least cruise on tumblr (reblogging, chatting, etc) for a bit. *sigh* Ah well, maybe tomorrow. -____-;

Welp, Later, and Good Night my dears! *hugs* :)

- Lady Nevermore

#therapy blog #therapy #Third Session #anxiety #melancholy #meh #personal

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allthebeautifulthings9828 · 7 years

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Blood Sacrifice - Chapter 17

(Note: You can catch up on this series on Tumblr or on Archive of Our Own. Blood Sacrifice is the sequel to Raven From the Ashes, so you might want to read that story first on Tumblr or on Archive of Our Own if you haven’t already.)

Fear. Dean was surprised to learn that fear was an emotion still very much in tact even in his new state of being - his new species. He stood alone in the room he shared with Castiel and their child terrified to his core that he'd forget how to love baby Lia if he held onto his celestial grace for too long. The voices banging against his ears all the way from downstairs made the fear bubble up in him again and again just when he managed to calm his erratic mind. Maybe it was the grace trying to overtake his being. Maybe he was going through the sensations of an internal war. Humanity fighting to survive against the divine.

No wonder Castiel stayed so quiet all the time when he was an angel. Sometimes moving too much or speaking more than necessary overwhelmed the senses.

Dean approached the portable crib, a remnant from Lia's time in the bunker when the family still used it as a base for hunting trips. He plucked the brown teddy bear with a red ribbon tied around its neck from the bottom of the crib and brought it to his nose. He searched for any lingering trace of his child. Yes, there. Lia's sweet, clean baby scent still clung to the stuffed toy and he inhaled deeply, grateful for the paternal love swelling in his chest.

His little girl wouldn't recognize him now. Maybe she would take one look at the hulking wings erupting from his shoulderblades and wail in fear. Somehow he knew babies could see the true nature of an angel. It still sounded so bizarre in his own mind to call himself an angel, yet the tight confines of his human body and the claustrophobic quality of any closed room on earth confirmed exactly what he was and what he'd done to save his child. Soon he would storm the Gates of Hell for her. Holding onto his human love for Lia was an absolute necessity if he was going to succeed at breaching Hell's defenses. The possibility that she was already dead tried to intrude on his logic but he batted it away with another breath of her sweet baby smell on the teddy bear.

Silently, Castiel slipped into the room. Dean had to force himself to view his husband through the filter of his vessel because he'd promised not to look at his true form. He didn't even know what he looked like yet either. There weren't many mirrors in the bunker but he managed to avoid all of them, fearful of how a new species changed him.

"Sam has returned," said Castiel in a blessedly quiet voice. "He said Nessie took the memory wipe better than most humans do. She'll be fine. We should begin formulating a plan of attack."

Dean nodded.

"You handled yourself admirably today."

"I have no clue what the hell I'm doing. I'm just groping around in the dark trying to find some shred of myself left in all this...." As he spoke, Dean lifted his arms and his elbows bumped into a feathery mass hanging behind him. "It still shocks the hell out of me when I bump into these damn things. I doubt I'll ever get used to being a creature with wings."

"You're beautiful," Castiel whispered. "If you could see yourself the way I do, you'd know."

Brows furrowed, Dean cut his eyes at the angel - the other angel - who gazed back at him the same way he did when he saw his first snowfall. They were wrong. They were all wrong. Angels weren't void of emotion at all. They felt things so deeply, magnified in whatever power fueled their graces, and it forced them to control those feelings before they were possessed by them. No matter how Dean's speech patterns changed, no matter how he understood the mysteries of the universe, no matter where those wings took him in the coming days, he'd never lose sight of his love for Castiel, for Lia, and for the whole of his family.

"Dean, sit with me for a minute."

"C'mon, Cas, we gotta--"

"--Just for a minute. Please."

Hesitation stilled Dean for a moment but he found it impossible to reject the light in Castiel's blue eyes. Had they always been so blue? He put Lia's teddy bear in the crib again, leaving it for her when she came home to her rightful family again. The two of them sat side by side on the bed that used to be theirs when they were still trying to feel out what they meant to each other.

"You're refusing to look at yourself. Don't think I haven't noticed. No, no, don't try to explain yourself. I understand the shock you must be going through. It's not unlike when I became human."

Dean evaded his eyes. "We don't have time to do this right now."

Snatching his chin in a tight grip, Castiel forced Dean to meet his eyes and hear his words. "An angel who doubts his vessel is weak in battle. An angel who can't process his own strength is dangerous to his fellow soldiers."

"What are you getting at?"

"Breathe."

"What?"

"Take a deep breath, Dean."

"Breathing isn't necessary for our survival," he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Dean...." murmured Castiel, using his name like a spell to keep drawing him back into the moment.

"I don't know what you want from me."

"Breathe," Castiel said again. "Allow yourself to be immersed in your body. Your inner body, not this vessel. As long as you’re busy analyzing it and fighting what you are now, you're putting yourself in danger - Lia and me too. So I need you to sit here and breathe for a minute before we join the others and begin fighting the Queen of Hell."

Dean huffed impatiently but he knew Castiel wasn't going to let him wriggle his way out of it. "Fine."

"Good," said Castiel. "Close your eyes. Breathe deep. Shut out all of the outside noise. You can do that better than any creature in the universe because you are an angel. You have the power to envelop yourself in silence. Focus on my voice."

It was ridiculous but Dean obeyed if only to please his husband. Angels or humans, they were still married. Nothing changed that. So he did as Castiel asked, allowing his eyes to slip shut and deep measures of oxygen to fill his human vessel. Sure, the vessel felt better when he did that but he felt nothing different at all. He listened to Castiel's instructions on how to shut out the noise around him, which easily stretched through every human conversation, every insect, every car, and every breath of wind for miles if he didn't learn to control that particular power. All right, he conceded as the world went quieter, it was a worthy lesson.

Tight muscles went slack in his vessel as the noise reduced to a manageable hum. He hadn't realized how much stress the human body endured when occupied by an angel. Even so, he still longed to shed his human skin and expand to his rightful size and strength the way his instincts demanded. Only the guarantee of killing his family with his light and his voice stopped him.

The air shifted as Castiel's arm reached behind Dean and took the drooping length of his new wing over his elbow. Feeling someone touch his wing instantly made Dean jump and his eyes snapped open with the shock of realizing wings were as personal and private to an angel as certain places on the body were to a human. Of course, Castiel knew what he was doing and he held Dean's gaze without the slightest hint of doubt. He moved slowly, allowing Dean time to acclimate to being touched in a way that he'd never before experienced. Letting it happen was unusual. He knew that somehow. Angels never touched each other's wings unless they had to under life and death circumstances, yet there Castiel sat with Dean's new wing draped over the crook of his arm.

"Look at yourself, Dean," he whispered, bringing the wing around him like a floor-length cloak. "You really need to understand your new body."

Dean couldn't make himself look directly at the feathered appendage even if he felt it as clearly as he felt an arm or a leg. He jumped, startled once more as Castiel's free hand slid down the black feathers. Every feather was filled with nerve endings apparently. The sensation of warm touch rippled through him until gooseflesh rose on his arms and legs. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of luminosity that hinted at inner light flowing through each feather just as much as the ability to feel physical touch. No wonder angels refused to touch each other's wings. It was too much.

Tilting forward, Castiel pressed a sacred kiss into the midsection of the wing. It jolted through Dean's grace, the sensation of a kiss, and shoved the breath out from his human vessel. Not only was the loving gesture physical but the force of Castiel's devotion flowed through one grace into another, leaving no doubt of their bond. A flash of iridescent light flickered over the surface of each feather. It drew Dean's attention to it in spite of himself.

"That's your light. Look at it, love. It's you," Castiel encouraged in a gentle voice.

"How are you doing that?" he questioned hoarsely.

A faint smile opened Castiel's expression while he lazily stroked the wing. "Now you understand why angels trick ourselves into thinking we don't feel. We do. We feel more than humans, I think. Now ask yourself a simple question. As an angel now with wings and grace and a halo--"

"--Halo? Really?--"

"--Yes, really. Now ask yourself, the angel Dominiel - do you love Lia?"

Dean's mind slipped back eight months to the day a tiny little life was brought into the world by a mother who loved her enough to realize she couldn't give her the life she deserved. That mother offered her newborn baby, a pink wriggling thing with large, intelligent eyes, to a pair of men with a house, a yard, and a life ready to welcome a family. He felt her slight weight in his arms that day of her birth. She had been small enough to fit in the crook of his elbow with room to spare. Sleepy eyes peered up at him as if she knew. She trusted. That big hairy man with green eyes and too many freckles who was terrified of strapping in the car seat wrong was her daddy.

Light shimmered over the surface of his wings once again as if the emotion for his child was too vast to be contained in a single angelic grace or even a single human soul. "Yeah," he said, eyes welling. "Yeah, I love her."

"And do you love me?" Castiel pressed.

The question hit Dean like a blow to the chest as if the possibility of not loving Castiel sucked the life out of him. "Do you have to ask?" he shot back barely above a whisper.

"Not for me. For you."

"So much I can't breathe if I try to put it in words." It wasn't a normal response for Dean and he listened to himself say it with partially detached interest. Maybe Dean would feel weird about it but Dominiel decided it was the most appropriate way to answer such a question. The angel he was had the courage to say things the human thought lacked any sort of masculinity. Truth was truth no matter how he dressed it up as Dominiel or dressed it down as Dean.

A slightly more defined smile brightened Castiel's face for the briefest moment before he reached over and kissed Dean with hands framing his face. He gave into it easily, clutching the sleeves of Castiel's shirt like a life preserver. They had been so focused on finding their child that they'd nearly set aside the family they were fighting to preserve.

When they parted, Dean realized his wing lay between them across his lap. It was a heavy thing, he discovered, as Castiel amused himself by softly combing his fingers through the luxurious black feathers. Allowing himself a bit of guidance, Dean rested his fingers lightly on top of Castiel's hand and followed its stroking path. Errant feathers brushed his fingertips until he worked up the courage to touch the strange bodily addition without a safety barrier. Calloused and battered, his hand felt so much rougher against his feathers, and then, there, yes, he realized it was dual sensations like touching finger to finger. As he felt the feathers, so too did his feathers feel each cut and scrape marring his hand.

"It really is me," he said in a burst of relief.

"Yes, you are in full possession of your wings like any other part of your body," agreed Castiel. "They're as tangible as the way it feels when I kiss you. Do you understand me?"

Dean nodded, thinking. "Yeah, I think I do."

The wings that frightened him so much spread a great length to the floor and beyond. Dean narrowed his eyes and curled the end of the wing upward, watching it rise, and he observed the way the light played on his iridescent feathers. Blacker than night and lighter than day all at the same time, they obeyed his brain's impulses as easily as raising or lowering an arm. Of course, he knew that already, having flown with Sam to the abandoned warehouse for the summoning ritual, yet he hadn't allowed himself to watch the hulking things do their work. Castiel forcing the issue seemed ridiculous at first but he understood it there in the privacy of their old room. It was necessary to accept his new condition in order to trust himself with responsibilities greater than his own survival. He could never hope to rescue Lia if he couldn't trust his new body to behave to its fullest potential.

“Should we become separated in the fighting – I don’t know what will happen – but if we are pulled apart, you can use the sensory memory of my touch to latch onto my position,” Castiel explained. “Latching onto the location of any being is done in a variety of ways, but for us, I think it has to be the intimacy of touch.”

“That’s why you made me do all this with my wing,” surmised Dean.

“Partially, yes. I wanted you to understand your body too. You still see yourself as Dean Winchester but if you’re going to stand a chance against Abaddon, you’ve got to see your full potential as Dominiel. You’ve got to recognize your power as a wavelength of celestial intent, not a man walking around in a fragile human body. Dominiel has enough power with one thought to cause an explosion of nuclear proportions. That’s the kind of celestial weaponry at your disposal and you need to own it. Don’t shy away from it. Hesitation at the wrong moment will ruin Lia’s chances for survival. It’s time to let go of your fear.”

Nodding slowly, Dean let himself consider the level of destruction he could cause if the demons working under Abaddon’s control required a lesson. Castiel was right. He had to quit shying away from his angelic body if he was going to give his daughter a fighting chance.

“I can do it,” Dean promised aloud.

“Do you know how to smite?” asked Castiel.

“Well, I’ve seen you do it a few times. You put your hand on the demon’s forehead and you sort of juice up until the thing explodes in a ball of light.”

“Yes, that’s the gist of it. Call up your celestial right from the deepest part of your grace to destroy the evil in the universe. Once you’re close enough to a demon, you’ll feel your instincts pulling you toward smiting because it’s your right. Everything has a balance in the universe. Light and dark. Pleasure and suffering. Goodness and evil. An angel has the instinctual function of maintaining light, pleasure, and goodness in the universe. This was our original purpose. I need you to forget the corruption you witnessed among our kind before Mother Mary won her rightful throne. Listen inside of your grace for your true purpose. It will lead you in the right direction toward Lia and away from hellish creatures.”

“If I can find you by drawing up the sensory memory of touch, then is it possible to find Lia through another sensory memory?”

That intrigued Castiel. His head tilted. “Such as?”

“I remember her scent the most. The baby powder and … you know … her.”

*****

In the bunker’s common room leading to the library, Sam stared up the curving staircase and strained his ears for any sign of movement. He couldn’t fathom what was taking them so long to join the family, Krissy, Gadreel, and the other angelic soldiers for a final strategy session. The more time they wasted, the less likely they were going to find Lia alive. His muscles strained to remain still even though he wanted nothing more than to rush into their room and yell at them for wasting time.

Amina’s familiar presence slid into Sam’s empty arm. He drew her close and glanced down at her glittery blue eyes. “You ought to eat something,” she murmured up at him. “We don’t know what we’re walking into and you haven’t had a bite all day.”

“We won’t be walking into anything if they don’t get a move on,” Sam replied, jerking his chin toward the residence wing upstairs. “The hell are they doing?”

“I don’t know,” Amina replied, looping her arms around his waist. “My guess is Dean’s having trouble adjusting to who he is now.”

“You mean what he is.”

“Sam.”

Sighing, he raked a hand through the length of his dark hair. “Sorry.”

“It’s not only an adjustment for him. I know.” Standing high on her tiptoes, Amina kissed Sam’s cheek and gave him a squeeze. “Try to remember this won’t last forever. Once we have Lia back, they’ll remove their graces again and resume normal human lives. Perfectly ordinary suburban mortality. You and I went through this too.”

“Mm,” Sam mused with more than a little skepticism. “I remember how hard it was for you to give up your immortality. We almost split up over it.”

“But we didn’t. We have our boys and I’d do it all over again,” she replied.

Sam peered down at her from his lofty height. He skimmed a large hand along her cheek, consumed by unexpected emotion. “You don’t have to say that,” he offered. “No one would go through so many miscarriages if they had to live it all over again.”

“I would,” she argued with a haughty tip of her chin.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m perfectly serious, Samuel Winchester. I’d go through every moment of it again if I had to because we have two beautiful sons together and you taught me how beautiful the little simplicities are in human life.” She splayed her small hand over his back, looking at him with all of the fierce determination her grace never took away. “The babies we lost trying to have our boys are still out there. I know we’re going to see them again in Heaven.”

“You’re pretty sure about the soulmate rule,” he teased, the corner of his mouth pulling up.

“I am. You’re stuck with me for eternity.” Amina’s face bloomed into a radiant smile.

“Let’s try to get Lia back home before we think about eternity,” Sam suggested, although he tapped her nose lovingly with his fingertip.

Amina shrugged. “Have some faith. We have the best resources Mother Mary has to offer on our side. I can’t imagine a way for this to play out without bringing that sweet little baby home where she belongs. And I’m perfectly content to hear about Cas and Dean laying waste to Hell after they make it home safely.”

“Are you okay with not fighting?”

“No,” she admitted without hesitation, “but I don’t have a choice. My body isn’t healed enough from childbirth to fight with you. I’ll console myself with nursing wounds afterward.”

Sam opened his mouth, a witty comeback locked and loaded, but movement on the bunker’s surveillance system caught his attention. A dark figure loitered outside. He squinted over Amina’s head at the grainy black and white screen mounted on the far wall. Finally, the intruder turned to one side, giving Sam a look at his profile. Shock, then rage, and then mild curiosity swept through his emotional system when he recognized Crowley standing out there, unable to enter because of the anti-demon warding throughout the bunker.

“Stay here,” he muttered to Amina as he stalked away.

“What?”

“I’ll be right back,” Sam called over his shoulder.

For some reason, Crowley didn’t use the front entrance the way the Winchester family did. No, the asshole made Sam traipse through the back half of the bunker beyond the kitchen into some rarely used storage rooms where another doorway led a person outside. Maybe he sensed the multitude of angels inside at that moment and he wanted to avoid them like the cockroach he was fleeing from the light.

Sam threw open the door without giving Crowley a moment to react. He grabbed the little demon king by the lapels of his overcoat and threw him against the outside bunker wall. It worked, he thought absently, and he didn’t get flicked into the nearest tree by demon strength, which meant he really must have taken the guy by surprise.

“Where the hell did they take my niece?” Sam roared inches from Crowley’s face. “Where is she, you piece of shit?”

A dramatic sigh escaped Crowley and he rolled his eyes like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Moose, Moose, Moose. I can’t tell you how much I missed your emotional barbarism. Let me go before I get angry.” The deposed King of Hell patted Sam’s fists still gripping his overcoat.

“You better have some goddamn answers,” Sam growled.

“My enemy of my enemy is my friend,” tittered Crowley through a bearded smile. “Put me down, Moose. I come bearing gifts.”

#destiel #deancas #angel!dean #castiel #supernatural

22 notes · View notes