#gods going to smite me down for saying all this but I’m kind of upset rn

[missmouse25]

Eish. I have so much nonsense to tell my friends but it doesn’t feel like they always want to listen to it.

Sure it’s not as important as what goes on in everyone else’s life but.. my world is very small atm, I need someone to listen to me rant about the things I’m doing

[stanknotstark]

Coming Out (Loki Edition)

Thank you @bokunoluv​ for requesting this because it was A LOT of fun to write 😊 I only hope it lives up to your expectations! I can totally write something else with more fluff if it wasn’t enough but i wrote what I felt came natural for this particular story! 

You’re not really sure when it dawns on you that you’re bisexual. It just kind of happens. You don’t make a choice it just kind of unfolds in your mind that you’ve always been but now you can label it. 

Thing is, you’re dating Loki and you’re not sure how to tell him. You don’t think he’ll judge you or anything, hell Loki had told you some of his exes have been male, hell even different species that didn’t exist on Earth. So, no, he won’t judge you but it’s still something big, special, and you felt it deserved to be said not with flare, that wasn’t your style, but it should be acknowledged. 

You’re sitting with Loki enjoying a late dinner because he had just come back from Asgard after a week of being gone. You totally hadn’t stolen clothes from his room and slept with them on a pillow like you were cuddling him, psh. 

You begin playing with your food a bit nervous, pushing the vegetables around.

“What bothers you, darling?” Loki asks, putting his fork down and grabbing your free hand on the table. 

You take a deep breath through your nose and look at the god. You open your mouth then close it. This didn’t feel like the right time. 

“Nothing important right now, how was your father?” You ask knowing that relationship is a bit strained.

Loki frowns at you but truly realizes you don’t want to talk about what bothered you and lets it go. 

“He is....he is good. We had a talk after mother trapped us in a room, for two hours might I add, and demanded we talk things out otherwise she would have Thor smite us both.” Loki chuckles, he looks at the table with a fond look in his eye, his thumb caresses the top of your hand. Obviously the talk went well which makes you happy for him. 

“While things aren’t completely better, things are definitely getting better between us.” Loki says, looking back up at you and giving a small smile. 

You smile back and flip your hand to hold his. “I’m really happy you’re working through things. I’m proud of you.” You say.

Loki practically puffs up at you saying you’re proud of him, something he hasn’t heard often. 

You’re kind of happy you didn’t tell Loki right now, you really don’t want to step on his moment. 

You both finish dinner in a comfortable silence and retire to Loki’s bedroom at a reasonable hour. 

By the time it gets pulled up again, a few days have past. 

This time you’re walking the streets of New York city with Loki, holding hands. 

While you only have eyes for Loki you both had agreed that you wouldn’t get jealous if either of you appreciated someones beauty. 

So, when you’re both walking the street and pass a woman who is no doubt some type of model you whistle and glance at Loki, tugging his hand to get his attention. Loki looks down at you then in the direction your nod to and sees the woman. 

The woman in question is all legs and olive skin. Her hair is pitch black and flows down her back till it stops at her wide hips that are covered in some daisy dukes. When she looks up at someone she’s with her eyes are a deep, chocolate brown that someone could probably lose themselves in. Her whole demeanor oozes with confidence, she knows she looks good. 

Loki hums thoughtfully and nods. 

“A fine specimen, good catch sweetheart.” Loki says to you. 

You smile as you both pass the woman but as you step past her you realize you pointed out a woman and feel a little defensive. Loki obviously notices your tension and frowns down at you.

“What has happened?” He asks, squeezing your hand in a way of demanding you look at him. 

You follow his demand and look at him. “I just-I didn’t-Nothing, I’m fine.” You finish lamely, looking away from Loki.

Loki stops walking and you’re forced to stop too seeing as you’re holding his hand. You stand a little in front of him so Loki pulls on your hand till you’re standing right in front of him, looking at the ground while rubbing your arm with your other hand. 

“Darling.” Loki whispers, the word almost swallowed by the city that thrums with life around you both but you hear it. Loki then uses his free hand to tilt your chin up and have you look at him. 

“Tell me what bothers you, you’ve been hiding something from me for the past few days and I can feel it eating you alive. Please tell me?” Loki begs of you, something new that makes you realize Loki truly cares because Loki does not beg. He finds begging to be a commoner’s practice and finds himself above it.

“I do have a secret but now isn’t the time to tell you.” You say with sad eyes, glancing around at the people walking past you, at the cars passing you both in the street, at the public thriving around you. 

When you look back to Loki his purses his lips but nods and starts walking again, you naturally follow him. Things stay a little tense for the rest of the day between you two but you appreciate Loki pretending everything is fine. 

Later on, when you’re both laying in bed, you lay splayed over Loki’s chest, your favorite position, and he has one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other trailing up and down your back with light touches.

“Thanks.” You randomly say into his chest that rises and falls, a calming effect to you. 

“For what?” Loki asks, looking down at the top of your head. 

“For not pushing me, earlier.”

You know Loki knows what you’re referencing because he says, “I hope you know you can tell me anything, darling, I am the last person in your life that may judge you for anything. Do not fear to tell me your fears and concerns, we will work at them together. You are never alone.” Loki finishes with a kiss to your forehead. 

You accept the kiss and sigh, relaxing almost to a puddle in Loki’s arms. 

“I will in time. I’m just looking for the perfect moment.” You tell him, looking at him through your lashes. 

Loki squints at you but nods and lays his head back down on his pillow. 

“Sometimes the perfect moment comes when you least expect it.” Is all he says to you. You leave the conversation at that and give him a small good night which he answers by tilting your head to give you a proper kiss then lets you get comfortable around his body and fall into a deep, happy sleep. 

The whole thing isn’t brought up again until you’re in the middle of an argument with Loki. 

“It was rash, what you did, and I will not stand by and watch you risk your life like that!” Loki says strongly, not quite yelling but you know he’s close to it. 

“Then don’t watch me! I cannot watch as some innocent life gets killed when I know I could do something to save them!” You yell because Loki doesn’t ever understand your love for all life. 

“Their life is not worth yours!”

“You don’t get to decide whose life is worth anything, that is not your choice to make, it is only my choice because it is my life!”

“Are we not together? Are you not mine? Because if you are to be involved with me, that makes your life mine to watch over!”

“You do not own me!” 

Loki grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

You stand a few feet away your hands balled into fists at your sides, your eyes wild with fire. 

“I am not sure what is going on with you recently, first you keep secrets, stating you need the perfect moment but it has been a week and that moment has not come, I’m not sure it ever will! Now you throw your life around like there are not people who care about you, like I can live on normally if I lose you!” Loki yells out, his hand dropping to his side and his eyes burning with fear and hurt as they glare at you. 

You stand there breathing, trying to calm your hurt at him not trusting you, trying to not cry in front of him. Instead you let out an upset chuckle and look away from the god. “So much for trusting me.” You say, through grit teeth, before turning and going to make your way to the elevator. 

Loki grabs your wrist in a quick move. “Darling, wait, please, I do, I trust you,” Loki says to you who refuses to even look at him you’re so hurt from his words. “I trust you’ll tell me, I did not mean those words but I’m hurt and do not know what to do to make you realize you can tell me anything.” Loki finishes, his other hand that’s not holding yours right now comes up to turn you towards him but instead hesitates and drops back down to his side. 

You bite your lip hard, your tears are welled up in your eyes and you’re doing everything in your power to stop them from falling. 

“Just-” Your voice breaks, “-give me some time alone, please?” You beg of Loki, still not looking back at him. 

Loki lets go of your hand and you rush to the elevator. A single tear falling before the doors can shut completely. 

You spend hours on the roof telling yourself to go down and talk to Loki. Just tell him what you’re hiding. God, all you have to say is that you’re bisexual, it should not have gotten this dramatic. You pace the roof as you cry, furiously wiping at the stupid tears that fall. 

When you do make your way down to Loki’s room he is sitting on the floor in front of the single floor to ceiling window in his room. His knees are drawn up and his arms encircle them, his chin resting on top of his knees. When you enter he doesn’t look at you. He’s obviously hurt and doesn’t want to let it out on you more. 

You stand in the doorway for a few minutes deciding about how to go about fixing what’s happening right now. You decide words probably aren’t the best thing to work with and make your way over to Loki. When you stand behind him you hesitate but then grab him under the arms and pull up in a silent demand for him to stand. You’re shocked but he follows and stands. You then turn him around to look at you. 

You’re sure you look a hot mess right now, blotchy face, red nose, wild hair from pulling at it, but you don’t care, you care about taking care of Loki right now. He looks down at you with blank eyes and a blank face. So you give him a sad smile and go to his dresser to fish out some of his pjs. When you’ve found a pair of shirt and pants for him you come back to Loki and undress him. 

It’s a little concerning that Loki lets you push and pull at his body as if he doesn’t have any autonomy over his body right now. When you’ve dressed him you move him to the bed and lay him under the covers. You undress yourself into your bra and panties, not wanting to leave the room for anything, and crawl into bed with him and snuggle into him. 

Loki lays flat on his back, he silently watches as you get comfortable around him. Your head is resting in the crook of his neck, one arm under the pillow Loki’s head lies on, the other resting on his chest. Your legs are tangled in his by the time you’re truly comfortable. 

Loki doesn’t move, doesn’t touch you causing you to softly sob in his neck. 

“Please, please hold me, Loki, I’m so sorry.” You beg of him.

This causes Loki to jerk and he finally wraps his warm arms around you, tightly. As he hugs you to him he whispers, “I thought I had lost you.” His voice wavers as he says this. 

You swallow air, breathing in the smell of him to calm down in the crook of his neck. “Never. I just needed some time to think.” You explain quickly, your own voice trembling. 

Loki squeezes you into his body, nearly making you breathless. “I love you,” Loki says softly, “I love you so much.” He says more firm.

You hiccup and pull from his neck to look at him. You always expected yourself to be the first to say it. 

You laugh, sadness tinging the sound of it but you’re anything but sad. “You have atrocious timing.”

Loki laughs with you at this.

“But I love you too.” You say it back with heart, pulling Loki’s mouth to yours. The kiss is messy, your undried tears make it wet and you both kiss with a passion that causes it to be a little sloppy but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

The day finally comes where you can tell Loki. 

You’re both cuddled up on your bed watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’ve always had a thing for Angelina Jolie, while Brad is hot you would pick Angelina over him any day. 

You’re both sitting up with thousands of pillows strewn across, between, and on top of you both at the headboard of the bed. Loki has his right arm wrapped behind your waist, his hand idly caressing your hip under your shirt. His left hand rests on his lap, occasionally picking at the popcorn resting between both your legs. You sit with your left arm wrapped around Loki’s waist, your right stretched across your body to rest on Loki’s thigh. 

The scene playing out is when both Angelina and Brad are trying to kill each other in the house with palpable sexual tension.

“I would totally let Angelina go down on me.” You let out, randomly.

Loki hums delightfully, “I would love to watch that.” 

You giggle a little then say it. “Loki, I’m bisexual.” It comes out naturally. 

Loki looks down at you and smiles when you turn to look back at him.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“What?” You say a little shocked.

Loki chuckles. “Before we started dating I would catch you appreciating women’s physiques, not to mention that really flirtatious conversation you had with Natasha when Thor let you try Asgardian mead.” Loki explains. “I almost thought I would lose you too her.” He adds as an afterthought. 

“I didn’t-” You frown at Loki then realization dawns on you. “Oh.” Is all you can get out. 

Loki actually laughs, heartily enough to throw his head back a bit as he does. 

“You cannot lie to the god of lies, darling. Not to mention, because you were so oblivious about yourself being something other than straight you made yourself very obvious to everyone.”

“Wait, everyone knows?” You ask Loki, your voice jumping a little as you try not to laugh. A little shocked at how comfortable you are with this.

Loki continues smiling and says, “Yes. Natasha and I found out first, everyone else followed not long after,” Loki squeezes you to him, glancing at the TV to watch what’s going on for a second but looks back at you, “Was this the secret you’ve been trying to find the time to tell me about?” 

“Yes.” You say blushing hard, looking at the TV. Telling him seems so small now, not in an insignificant way but in a way that maybe you made the secret bigger than it truly needed to be. 

Loki makes a noise of acknowledgment and grabs your chin to make you look at him. 

“In this case, I suppose my magic will be handy now.”

You start to question what he means but then Loki has been enveloped by green then you’re looking into Loki’s eyes however he’s a gorgeous woman.

Your mouth opens a little, stunned, and Loki uses this to pull your mouth to hers and let her tongue explore your mouth with a smooth move. You can’t help it, you moan into her mouth and make Loki smile into the kiss. 

“Oh, darling, the things I will do to ravish you in this form,” Loki says after pulling from the kiss, you whimper at the loss of tongue but your eyes brighten with all the possibilities, “I will show you just what it means to be with a woman.” Loki finishes in his, now, light, feminine voice. 

You throw the bowl of popcorn across the room, not caring about the mess it makes causing Loki to laugh. Then move in a way that makes you straddle Loki’s lap, movie conveniently forgotten. As you look down at her bright green eyes and beautiful feminine face you smile and say, “You better hold yourself to those promises, my queen.” 

Loki’s eyes flutter from your lips and eyes, going a bit breathless, and shivering at your new nick name for her. She smirks up at you when she gains her confidence again, making you feel powerful that you have this affect over Loki. 

“I never break a promise, love.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hewwo! I was wondering if you could do danganronpa 2 boys walking in on whats looks to be cheating but was not. I understand if you don't want to do this request. Tysm for your time.

Hewwo! I kinda ran out of ideas for scenarios haha--so I hope just Teru, Nagito, Gundham, and Hajime are okay!

...........

Teruteru

He hears your laugh and peeks into your room, wondering what was up with you.

“Awh you’re too cute haha”, you say as you’re looking at your laptop.

But then he hears Gundham’s voice and...a part of him dies a little.

Were you...cheating on him? He didn’t want to jump to that conclusion so quick but...

Why? He promised you he’d tone down the lewd jokes, and he even made you anything you wanted to eat. Was it not enough?

“Teru?”

He stares at you with teary eyes, clutching his neckerchief.

“No, I see..you wanna be with Gundham more. A-An’ if that’s the case then..then....YA SHOULDA JUST SAID SO!!!”

It only takes a moment for you to realize why he thought that, and you freaked tf out.

“Teru..oh my god that is NOT what’s happening! I was just telling Maga-Z how cute he was!! See?” You turn the laptop and, sure enough, the little hamster’s face was visible in the webcam. “I was only talking about him!! That’s it!”

Once Teruteru realizes this, he calms down a little, relieved he had the wrong idea.

But you see he’s still upset, and so you end the call before coaxing him to your bed, hugging him closely. “Sugar..what on earth would make you think I’d ever cheat on you?”

The way you said that nickname with such softness and worry is enough to make him start crying.

He feels so damn guilty for yelling at you over a misunderstanding.

Nagito

“Oh..I see you two are having a fun time. I’ll be going now.”

You look over at your bf in a panic, shoving Mikan off before you spring up to chase after him.

“Nagito, you know how she tends to “trip”. I-It wasn’t what it looked li-”

“But wouldn’t she be a better partner? She might be a klutz, but she’s kind..and patient..and a healer. Unlike this worthless garbage who was just unlucky enough to see-”

Cutting off his pessimistic rant, you grab his hand, making him look back at you before you kiss him on the lips.

That shuts him up on the spot.

He just stares at you as you explain that you only loved him and would never cheat on him for any reason.

It’s hard for him to be convinced, but...eventually he forgives you and apologizes for misinterpreting the situation.

Cue Mikan coming over to apologize too and she “trips” onto Nagito instead.

It’s an awkward situation but you all just laugh it off.

Gundham

‘What is this...stinging feeling of betrayal?’ 

That’s all he thinks as he sees Teruteru flirting with you and taking your hand, unaware of your uncomfortable expression.

But as you punt the perverted chef away, you turn back to see Gundham storming out.

Though one of his Dark Devas stays behind and crawls into your hand, squeaking in worry.

“What...?” *squeak, squeak*  “He thought Teruteru was....? Oh no..”

You’re quick to find your bf sitting alone in his room, sulking. 

“Don’t..take a step closer if you intend on shattering my heart...” He sounds so depressed. “For once I open it up to you..and now it seems I must seal it..”

You sit beside him and take his hand, explaining that you were only trying to get Teruteru away from you. His remarks and gestures made you disgusted.

Gundham was surprised, but relieved to realize you had no intentions of “cheating” (as he learned that’s what this ugly side of human relationships was called.

Then he hugs you close, which was shocking considering you usually initiated hugs first. 

“Forgive me, my dearest. Next time he tries to lure you away with such vile temptations..let me know and I shall smite him.”

Hajime

When he sees you laughing with Kazuichi in the hotel lobby, Hajime can’t help but feel...hurt.

He was searching for you all morning--only to find you sitting there with the mechanic’s arm around your shoulder.

You see your bf turn around and leave, worried he got the wrong idea.

So you (quite aggressively) shove Kazuichi off and dash after Hajime-

Only to find him sitting by the pool, his pants rolled up as he stares at his reflection with sadness.

“Haji?”

“Oh hey...I thought you were having fun with him,” he just huffs, trying not to get choked up as he looks away from you.

“I’m sorry. You had the wrong idea. Kaz and I are childhood friends and that’s just a habit of his...but I should’ve known better than to let him get that close.”

He says nothing, though he looks back at you when you take his hand.

You reassure him he’s the only one you love, despite knowing his lack of talent. He’s helped you feel like a normal highschooler and you’re forever grateful to have him in your life.

Finally...he smiles and brings you closer to hug you, feeling relieved he was wrong.

But also kinda embarrassed he got so worked up over a misunderstanding.

[himikiyo]

in saecula saeculorum // himikiyo week day 3

Himikiyo Week Day 3: Vice + Virtue

"If you’re so against the idea of people getting hurt, you should have thought twice before summoning a demon."

Read on AO3, DRA, or under the cut.

Demons did not exist in the modern world. That was common sense, accepted by nearly everyone save fringe conspiracy theorists and fanatics of all types. Those who would believe in something so patently unscientific, so laughable, would be deemed worthy of ridicule themselves. There was no use for the supernatural when humans had triumphed over the natural world itself.

That was the party line, anyway. It was taught to children in schools, passed on in social interactions and media. Even those curious enough to seek out old tomes and uncover the stories within were motivated to dismiss them as legends. Stories of such things were fascinating, but they were from a less educated time. When people didn’t understand the world around them, they were motivated to devise stories of evil beings to explain their misfortunes.

None of it was real. Humanity’s biggest danger was itself.

Locked in a dusty church basement, one girl felt differently.

“Angie hopes you find the answers you seek, Himiko-chan! Remember though, Kami-sama might just smite you down if you aren’t careful! Even as powerful as he is, he doesn’t take threats lightly.” Setting down a small stack of books and clapping her hands together to brush off the dust, Angie took a step back towards the door. “Oh, and lock up when you’re done, okay? Technically Angie isn’t supposed to leave anyone alone here.”

“Yeah, got it. I’ll be sure to take care of everything.”

“In that case, good night!”

Just like that, she was gone. Himiko stayed where she was and waited until the patter of Angie’s footsteps faded out entirely, leaving only silence behind. It was a little creepy alone in a church at night, she had to admit. Best friend or not, Angie’s religious devotion was unnerving even in the daylight. Himiko was more interested in other aspects of the arcane. Things that wouldn’t be taken so lightly if discovered. For the experiments she wanted to perform, the church basement was safer than her apartment in more ways than one.

Summoning a demon was risky at best.

She already had the proper page marked. The candles were lit. The offerings were nearly ready. The demon — whose name in the book was an illegible scrawl, written in a language Himiko had never seen before — would appear or they wouldn’t. Her years of study had convinced her that these creatures were out there, lurking beyond the boundaries of normal human perception, but if she was wrong, this would be the time for that to be proven too.

Her hand trembled as she flicked the light switch off, plunging the room into dim candlelight.

The shakiness made it more difficult to draw blood, scarlet droplets scattering onto the page she was reading from as much as into the bowl they were meant for.

This was an academic experiment, yes, but it was a deeper part of her that would be devastated if it failed. A part of her that thought someone non-human might provide the kind of companionship and understanding she’d always lacked. Angie was sweet, but she couldn’t honestly say they saw eye to eye.

She carried on with the ritual, occasionally glancing around the darkened room to look for any changes. Nothing.

“Maybe...this isn’t going to work,” Himiko said softly to herself, gaze dropping to her own bloodied arm. “Maybe everyone’s right. If demons exist, we don’t really know how to summon them. Not anymore. They aren’t coming.”

Visually, not a single thing changed after she said that. She was alone. From the emptiness, though, an unknown voice made itself heard.

“Not coming? But I am already here. You humans really are blind.” A whispery chuckle followed those words, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“What? Who said that?” She turned, fumbling for the lights.

“Yumeno Himiko, I have answered your call. It’s been many years since a mortal last pulled me from the depths, but I am, as always, delighted to serve.” Though the voice was disembodied, not providing any visual clues to help her, she could clearly imagine an evil, toothy grin, like a monster waiting for its prey.

Ignoring the stinging pain still shooting up her arm from the ceremonial cut, she finally slammed her hand against the light switch, bathing the room in brightness. The sudden change made her eyes water, but even before she adjusted, she could tell it did nothing to illuminate her new companion’s location.

“Further introductions are in order, aren’t they?” the voice continued. “Demons’ true names tend to be a struggle for such limited creatures to pronounce, so I took the liberty of selecting a human name for myself a few centuries ago. I am Shinguuji Korekiyo.”

Taking a few steps over to the counter, Himiko grabbed the bandage she’d prepared and pressed it to her arm.

“Um, that’s nice, but...would you mind being...visible, Shinguuji-sama?” she asked meekly, being as polite and deferental as she possibly could. It was beginning to occur to her that she might be in over her head.

“Ah. Yes.” Just like that, she was suddenly aware of a presence behind her. Before she could turn to look, she could feel something brushing against the back of her neck. Someone’s nails? They felt sharper than that though, more like claws. A shiver running down her spine, Himiko tensed, feeling unnaturally warm fingertips graze along her pulse point. The heat wasn’t only coming from their hand though. It seemed to radiate from their entire body, like she was standing in front of a fire. Like if she leaned just a little closer, it might devour her.

After a moment, the hand retreated. She turned, and in the half second it took, they were no longer right behind her. Instead, she saw a figure leaning almost lazily against the opposite wall. For the most part, they appeared human. Lanky and incredibly tall, the way they held themself betrayed strength far beyond what their build might suggest. The mask covering most of their face made it impossible to know whether the smile she imagined was truly present, but the sparkle in their eyes suggested it might well be.

“Thank...you...” she croaked, not wanting to say anything that might make this demon — because yes, it was abundantly clear they were one, appearances aside — upset with her.

“Humans can be broken so easily,” Shinguuji mused. “Both physically and mentally. I’d almost forgotten how entertaining it is. Now, tell me, what is it you summoned me for?”

“To prove I could, I guess. That was part of it, anyway. And to learn from you. Studying magic on my own isn’t the same as having a master. And the third reason, I guess, is just...companionship.” Arm nicely wrapped now, she had no excuse to look anywhere but at them, though her face was burning with embarrassment.

“Study? Well, perhaps you’re smarter than you seem choosing me then. I’m partial to research myself. I do hope we can have some fun outside the classroom too, however.” Himiko knew without a doubt then, mask or not. They were definitely grinning, almost leering.

“What kind of fun do you mean?”

Moving closer again, they replied, “Shall we kill together? There must be people you want gone, yes? I can make quick work of them.”

That sent a chill down her spine, canceling out the pleasant remnants of warmth almost immediately. She was no idiot, of course. She understood that demons were violent by nature. But she didn’t call them for anything like that. They...couldn’t insist that she help them get that kind of ‘fun,’ could they?

“What? No. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said, pretending she couldn’t hear her own voice shaking. “Sure, there’s people I don’t get along with, but killing? And...besides, should you really be saying things like that in a church?” Himiko didn’t believe, especially not in Angie’s god, but it seemed as good an excuse as any.

“I don’t fear gods,” Shinguuji said dismissively. “They have no power over me. If you’re so against the idea of people getting hurt, you should have thought twice before summoning a demon. My kind isn’t meant to linger in the mortal world for long without reason, and it’s been so many years since I was last given a chance to...sate my appetite.”

“No, we can’t,” she repeated. She could hear the glee in their voice, like they were enjoying not only the prospect of murder, but the experience of winding her up over it. She was probably giving them exactly what they wanted, but she couldn’t help it.

“Well, if you’re so steadfast in your beliefs...I could always kill you instead, yes? We signed no formal contract. I’m under no obligation to keep you safe.”

In that moment, she was acutely aware of everything around her. The occasional flicker and buzz of the fluorescent lights, the musty basement smell of the air, and more than anything, the imposing presence across from her. If they really wanted to kill her, there would be nothing stopping them. But they were just watching her — beautiful, dangerous, and all too satisfied with themself.

Shinguuji laughed, closing the remaining distance between them. A hand cupped her chin, gently guiding her to meet their eyes. They were a brighter, more intense amber than she’d ever seen in a human being.

“Flattering me to keep yourself alive? Well well, that’s one way to go about it. I’m pleased to hear that you find me so beautiful.”

“I didn’t say that!” Their grip, if it could even be called that, was exceedingly light. It wouldn’t be remotely difficult to pull away and avert her eyes, but she didn’t. She was captivated.

“You didn’t need to. You thought about it. So then, what will it be? I have no real need to kill you, not when I can gain energy from you in other ways. And you’re so entertaining besides. If you’d simply allow me to possess you, you would have access to power beyond your wildest dreams.”

“And what’s the catch? There’s no way something that lets you...feed on my energy doesn’t have any negatives.” She chose not to comment on just how close they were now. The warmth of a lithe, not quite human body pressed against her own was oddly comforting.

“There is no catch. However, if it would make you feel better, I’d be willing to write up a formal contract.”

“I’ll look at it then,” she said grudgingly, one of her own arms starting to slip around them in return. “But before that, no weird possession or mind control or anything. And no murder.”

“Mm, I’ll make you fall in love with it yet. Perhaps when we seal our contract with a kiss?”

“We don’t need to do that.”

Shinguuji laughed, once again backing off from the overly intimate invasion of her personal space. “Indeed we don’t. But don’t let it be said that I didn’t offer.”

“Let’s just go home for now. People won’t notice that you’re not human, will they?” Maybe, just maybe, she’d end up taking them up on it.

[totallyrobophobic]

Episcopalian-who-went-to-a-catholic-mass anon here, after sending you that ask I looked up the “rules” of communion for both catholic and episcopalian churches and apparently neither of them are “come one come all!” about it and you should indeed only go up if you are of that specific religious branch but it varies by church if they actually uphold that rule. I’m now assuming that my church never upheld it because our “invitation to communion” was something like “so we invite you to this table, you who come often, you who have not been in a long time, and you who have never been before. Wherever you are in your journey of faith, you are welcome at the lord’s table”. I’m guessing that at this particular catholic church I went to they weren’t upholding that rule either because I never got any kind of look from the priest like I did from the people in the pew around me. Although I guess a priest isn’t going to just stop communion and tell someone that they can’t take communion because they aren’t of that branch, unless they’re that much of an asshole lmao

For what it’s worth I had been baptized (as a baby) and gone through confirmation (when I was 15 and my outfit was horrendous idk what I was thinking I could’ve passed for a fundie) before going to that service, though it’s been as an episcopalian and not catholic so I don’t know if there’s a difference in the two processes for those rites. I’m guessing the big difference is that it wasn’t done as a catholic so to catholics it probably doesn’t count. But at that point in time (this was about 4-5 years ago) going up for communion was just muscle memory to me after 13 years of Sundays, regardless of the church I was at, because for the most part, the catholic service was similar to all of the episcopalian services I’d ever sat through so I guess you could say I was just going through the motions of the service 🤷🏼‍♀️ idk, god didn’t smite me down on the spot so I guess the only ones I upset were the people who heard me say “and also with you” and clocked me as a non-catholic

Not catholic related but I’m heading out to Utah this summer with my boyfriend to visit his mom’s side of the family and they’re all mormon so I’ll be sure to report back to fundieblr what that experience is like if we end up having to go to church with them while we’re there. Bf is agnostic but was baptized as mormon, got the full body dunk when he was 8 which blew my mind when he first told me the story because I didn’t know you could get baptized as an older kid (or even into adulthood)

Generally, Catholic priests don't deny communion to anyone because they do not know that person's life and it's arrogant to judge a stranger who could very well be a good standing Catholic. Your baptism and confirmation would not be considered valid for Catholicism; you would have to go through RCIA to be considered a Catholic who can participate in the Eucharist.

I'm not trying to shame you btw, like you said you were in the moment and were trying to go through the motions. Also, if it helps at all, the parishioners who judged you for your response probably thought you were raised Catholic but hadn't been to Mass in years, which is something that Catholics can be really gatekeep-y about.

I can't wait for your Mormon stories!

[imfeelingprettylow]

So what if, instead of Adam telling Satan off, God shows up? Humor me for a second I probably am going to suck at this

The ground shook and Adam stood facing this massive beast, who was supposed to be his father. But he wasn't because

"Dads don't just show up after 11 years." As he had said. And it was looking like this very scary thing was going to pass. But Satan wasn't budging.

"So my son abandons me. And all that stand between me and the world is a couple of children, a former hellhound, a witch, two witchfinders, a whore, and two rebellious lovers. Seems God has chosen her champions. A pity. " as he was speaking he transformed, his massive self becoming smaller as he turned from horrifying into a vague humanoid shape. A pair of massive wings, much bigger than any angels, sprouted from human shoulders, and with a blink of the eye, a tall man stood before the lot. He was hard to focus on; immensely beautiful and terrifying to behold, with red eyes. Horrifying blood red eyes.

"So. I'm here. Standing before my son asking him to help me end this war once and for all. But where is your god? She sends you lot, with the hopes of what? You cannot save the world. She has abandoned you as she abandoned me." Satan's voice is heavenly and horrifying, a mixture of growling and celestial harmonies that has the hairs on Crowleys neck stand up. There is a flash of light and suddenly Gabriel is standing behind the group. Why God chose him to speak for her he will never know. He is absolutely terrified, as he walks forward to stand beside Adam

"The lord has spoken to me." Gabriel says, visibly shaking. There is a beat is silence. Satan raises one delicate eyebrow

"And?" He asks. Gabriel swallows the pump in his throat.

"She says to go back to the hole from whence you came." Even crowley, in his fit of terror had to smirk at that. Satan chuckles, his smile agonizing to behold

"And why does she not come to tell me herself? Ah, I know" Satan raises his face to the sky, eyes burning, massive wings opening "Because she isn't THERE "

In the next second two things happen. One, beezlebub appears beside their lord to inform him that hell is as it should be. Beezlebub fortunately appears beside Gabriel because they are afraid to approach their master from behind.

The second thing that happens is, God appears. One would expect a flash of light. And of course there is. But this light is so bright that aziraphale, in absolute terror, must unfurl his wings and moving with the speed of the angel he is, must gather Crowley and Adam to him, to protect them from God's wrath. Because God is pissed.

She appears, not as a human, but as a singular ball of floating light, smaller than a human head, burning with the rage of 6000 years. Aziraphales wings protect his demon and the boy from the full force of her might, and he manages to turn to face her. Beside him, Gabriel has done a miraculous and traitorous thing. In a pure act of kindness, without thinking, he has stepped in front of the Lord beezlebub to protect them from God's wrath. Beezlebub blinks at the feathery wall before them, surprised but unafraid. Aziraphale glances behind to see a singed, but very much alive crowley, covering Adam with his body, yellow eyes shut in terror. God hovers before satan, burning with rage and malice. All of this has happened within the span of two seconds.

"Hello Lucifer " God's voice is, well ineffable. Cannot be described. Crowley and beezlebub both cower in fear, hands over their ears in pain. Satan smirks, pleased with himself

"Hello mother." God's light hurts even the angels eyes. She glows brighter, annoyed

"You must go back into the hole, lucy." The old nickname makes Satan pause and suddenly both Gabriel and aziraphale notice pain; Satan's rage is as strong as God's and their wings become slightly singed. Crowleys head pops up as he recognizes that smell.

"All I ever wanted, mother, was to be loved." Crowley is looking back and forth between Satan and his angels wings. Beezlebub is now standing. Both demons know what they must do

"But you lOVED THEM MORE" the roar is accompanied by hellfire and Crowley launches himself in front of aziraphale, midnight wings open. Beezlebub has become a hoard of flies, and swirls around Gabriel protectivley. Both demons take the full force of the hellfire, as God simply casts it aside. Satan's great roar causes Gabriel to cry out in pain. And God pauses. She does not react to her son's temper tanrtrum. She dims. Crowley had begun to smoke in her presence, beezlebub literally dropping like flies. And God notices this, and pauses.

"My son. I wish not to fight. Neither of us can win this battle. So instead of arguing needlessly I am simply going to make you notice something." She turns to face the lot. Crowley is the one front and center. His love for aziraphale is all consuming as he stares at the Lord. He is not afraid, despite the pain he is in.

"Yes I've seen your champions mother. They are unimpressive." Satan's words cut deep and Gabriel cries out again. Aziraphale is trying to stand, but Adam pulls him down to keep him safe.

"My champions? Odd. I didn't choose any of them" God says. Satan scowls

"You choose evrything. You have had this plan since the beginning of time." He argues

"Well yes, I had hoped things would go this way. But I play with cards Lucy. Sometimes my design is less perfect and more..."

"Innefable." Crowley says, his face full of pain. God dims a bit, and moves closer.

"I think I've been quietly watching things from the sidelines too long. Of course I will continue to do so, for the humans sake. But for my angelic and demonic children, I think I let things go too far... You all are so ready to destroy what I so love." God seemed uoset, which is to say that her light went a little blue. Satan fumed

"Ah yes, the bloody humans. Those frail creatures you love more than your own children" Satan spat.

"Of course. I may have underestimated my children however." God said. "It seems to me that angels and demons are not so... binary in good and evil. It seems that given enough time and energy, they can be almost....human" God smiled at Crowley and he flinched. Aziraphale looked up and over one midnight wing at his lord, and slowly came around, despite Crowley and Adams concern.

"Oh, you mean these traitorous fools? I will not suffer them to live." In an instant there were flames engulfing them all.

Aziraphale thought he was dead. He hurt all over. His eyes were shut and he felt...peace. love. So much love. He opened his eyes to see a sky full of midnight wings.

Crowley wailed and grew to a height unimaginable, casting himself fully into the smiting flames of his master. And this act alone is what made him survive. Pure love. The flames hit him, with all the fury of hell, and he absorbed them, snarling, yellow eyes wide

"You will NOT take him from me!"

The flames engulfed him, and then they were beaten back by his wings, right into Satan himself.

Satan stumbled back, shaken but otherwise unharmed. The flames died down and Crowley lowered his wings, the air around him shimmering with heat.

"You will NOT take him from me." Crowley said again.

*authors note* if I screwed anything up please be kind but informative I didn't proof read this at all lol

UPDATE EVERYONE

Satan stood there dumbfounded for a singular second before his angelic face began to contort in rage. before satan could unleash his full fury on Crowley, however, God stepped between them.

“enough lucifer.” she said, and this time, crowley did not cringe. Aziraphale and Adam peeked out from behind him, and Beelzebub was themself again, standing beside gabriel. God cancelled out the pain around her, and faced off with her rebellious son 

“you are not seeing what you are meant to see. nor are you trying to understand. you are ignoring the reason this all had to happen. you are disappointing me lucy. again.” God was not angry, but she had begun to turn a rather peculiar shade of purple, that Gabriel recognized as disappointment and sorrow. And Satan recognized it too. He looked at crowley behind God, looked at Beelzebub beside Gabriel, looked at his own rebellious son, at the human children around them, and then finally his bloody gaze was upon his Mother. Satan glared, but behind his false anger was a sorrow and pain indescribable. 

“I just want to be loved.” he snarled. Crowley, in all his anger, could at least understand that. Aziraphale, behind him, felt that too and reached fro Crowleys hand, their fingers intertwining. God dimmed.

“you are, my dear boy. I love all my creations, even those that rebel against me. I have always loved you. Even this boy you spawned to destroy my humans, I love him as well. My love does not dwindle, nor does it become overruled by rage.” Adam, in surprise, looked at god and then at Satan. and then he walked right out and stood beside god , her light not harming him in the least.

“you shouldnt hate her so much.” adam said. satan regarded his son with suspicion. 

“your powers are great my boy, but not even you could change the reality of his heart.” Aziraphale said. “his hatred has darkened the love that used to be there.” God dimmed again, becoming more blue than purple

“I think youre wrong.” adam said “I think you havent given him a chance. I think, he let himself get upset and he wasnt thinking straight, and he hurt his friends and now, he doesnt know how to fix it.” adam was speaking from personal experience, and his friends smiled 

satan frowned at the boy 

“so what do you propose we do? we are mortal enemies.” he said, frustration showing. Adam turned to look at crowley and aziraphale, standing hand in hand 

“so were they. all it took for them was...well im not sure. i only just met them. but im sure if you ask them they can tell you.” all eyes turned on the pair, and defiantly they refused to let go of each other, though aziraphale was looking rather scarlet, from the singing hellfire or pure embarrassment, he would never tell. Crowley, tire iron still in hand, looked at his angel and pondered for a moment

“it took a second for me to love aziraphale. on the wall. when he showed his loyalty for humanity and disregard for the rules. it took 6000 years for me to admit that, just now.” Aziraphale looked at his demon in shock and then swallowed nervously 

“well I...I guess it was the books. I mean, I suppose I’d always been...fond of Crowley, I loved his company. I can always indulge and be...me. and then he saved my books for me and I guess I’ve been denying my love for him until...well a few minutes ago. But yes. We were mortal enemies, perhaps for a moment on the wall. But we have always been friends...and then some.” Crowley squeezed Aziraphales hand and smirked. Adam turned back to his satanic father 

“I bet you could learn to do that.” the boy said. Satan, however stood unconvinced 

“what? take a ball of light, the Almighty out to fish and chips? with humans? “ he scoffed. Gods light was now a pure amber color, a color of love and humor 

“I can take many forms, Lucy.” Was all she said. 

“Wait Wait Wait!” Gabriel said, striding forward, Beelzebub following quickly behind “disregarding all of that, I want to know how this is all supposed to play out. we are supposed to have a war! is that not happening?” God turned to her archangel, who promptly took a step back and swallowed in fear 

“there will be no war, my child. I will speak to the angels myself.”

“but you havent done that in...”

“too long, Gabriel. I have been absent for too long. Things are going to change in heaven. as for hell...” God turned to her satanic son, and his angelic face was full of conflict “I am always here for you, my dearest boy. Whenever you need me, ask. I have lots of work to do” God turned then to Crowley, Aziraphale and Adam

“you have all done so well, my children. I am so very proud.” and with that, she vanished, like fog vanishes on a windy day, and they were left there with satan, who was looking rather befuddled. 

“So the war is off, if my son still refuses to destroy humanity.” he looked down at adam, who looked almost bored

“I quite like humanity, thanks. feel free to stop by the wood sometime, if you ever want to play with Dog.” Satan stood straighter, and looked at Crowley

“and you? where do your allegiances lie now? with the angels?” 

“my allegiances have always been with Aziraphale.” the demon said very plainly. Aziraphale squeezed his hand tighter 

“fine. Lord Beelzebub?”

“I...” they looked at Gabriel “I am not sure, master. I think we have more troubling things at hand. the troops need some...alignment.” 

“well, let us go then. I see no more reason to stay. good riddance and all that.” Satan vanished by melting into the ground. Beelzebub spared Gabriel a glance before doing the same 

Gabriel let out the air he had been holding and glared at Aziraphale 

“I have to go. You and I are going to talk more about this after I...figure out what side im on.” his face fell in confusion before he dissipated as well. 

and so then there were three children, the former antichrist, two witchfinders, a witch, a whore, a former hellhound, and two ethereal beings. 

“so...now what?” Madam Tracy said “Ive seen god today. I dont think I can just go back to my flat.” 

“Well I for one have had enough occult presence today, thanks. Can we go home now ?” Pepper said. Adam smiled

“yeah I think im gonna go home. my dads here.” and sure enough, Adams human father was getting out of his car. Crowley, in a moment of exhaustion, wavered a bit, and Aziraphale caught him

“are you alright my dear?” he asked in concern. Crowley smiled, eyes shut in pure bliss 

“yes, angel, I am perfectly...tickety boo.”

*authors note* thanks for all the support!

[sidecarghost]

Suptober20 - Day 27 Banquet

Destiel Fic Summary: Hurt & Comfort, AU where Castiel rebelled against Heaven 10,000 years ago, and he meets an injured Dean that had fallen in a ravine after having a manic episode. And maybe Banquet theme is stretch but I was kind of inspired by theme to do a Little Match Girl adaptation. Ending is happy fluff.

Castiel held his last 3 feathers in his grip, gingerly stroking them between his fingers. He had fallen, and those feathers were all that remained of his former life as an angel of the lord. Castiel had rebelled against Heaven ten thousand years ago. Before that he had been a warrior of Heaven since the dawn of Creation, and he had led armies into battle against demons and abominations.  But as the species of homo sapiens began settling into larger towns and developing civilizations, he was called in to the intelligence department of Heaven for reassignment.

The Host wanted more intelligence gathered on humanity. Castiel would have the honor of gathering intelligence for them, because of his stellar record as a loyal soldier that followed orders without compunction. Unfortunately, for angels like Naomi, it seemed that Castiel had a lot of compunction when it came to humanity. After finding a vessel in Mesopotamia, Castiel began his spy work with little concern for the humans that droned around him like ants. But slowly Castiel’s attitudes shifted, and he saw a lot to admire in the people that struggled to do their best when it was so easy to do your worst. After Naomi told Castiel to kill all the first-born children in a village because it was God’s will, Castiel decided he was done performing God’s will. And he fell.

Without angel grace or a soul to burn, Castiel had discovered he could still use his feathers to perform angel magic. Every time he grew old enough for death, he burned another feather to return to youth. He had burned feathers to save friends, and he had burned feathers to smite villains. He burned feathers to change his body throughout the ages to fit in wherever he found himself. He had been male and female and every race and creed. Castiel took one of the black, beautiful feathers and dropped it in a bowl. He reached his wrinkled hands into a cabinet drawer and grasped on to a lighter. The arthritis in his bones made flicking the lighter on difficult. But on the third attempt, a flame sparked and Castiel set the feather on fire.

**

Castiel’s wrinkles smoothed away in an instant, and Castiel thought he would call his new form that of a holy tax accountant. Castiel had witnessed the marvel of the 20th century as a Caucasian female, and he thought he would try male Caucasian with dark, unruly hair, and blue eyes for the 21st century. Castiel also considered the likely probability that this form would be his final one on Earth given his depleted feather inventory. He tucks his two remaining feathers back in his wings where they immediately reattached themselves. Long ago, Castiel had used up too many feathers to teleport, but he had sacrificed them for friends so Castiel didn’t mind the loss. He had thought he would live forever as an angel, and after he fell, he thought he would be dead in a week. Getting to live among humanity for ten thousand years was an unexpected gift. He reaches into his pants’ pocket and pulls out his new wallet. His new body came with new forms of identification. He is Castiel Novak, and he is 25 years old and a CPA.

~~

Sam was a mess over his brother Dean. His brother had moved in with Jessie and him a few months ago, because he couldn’t hold a job. Dean had lost his driving license from a DWI. And Sam wanted to take care of his brother because his brother had always been there to take care of him. But at this point, Sam felt like he was just enabling Dean, and any effort to protect Dean was just hurting him in the long run. Dean had stolen Jessie’s jewelry to pawn for money. After he had spent all that money on alcohol, Dean shoplifted all the bottles of mouthwash he could fit in his coat from a grocery store. That was when Sam got the phone call from the police department. Dean asked him to come bail him out. Sam told his brother no. Dean yelled at him over the phone, but it was all noise to Sam. Sam’s heart was broken and he couldn’t make sense of the words coming from his brother. Sam couldn’t save his brother, but he could at least set barriers for his own protection.

~~

Castiel drives up to the office park where he works. He shuts his car door and sets the alarm. He hears the chirp of the alarm and begins to head into his office building. But he thinks he hears a whine, like a hurt animal from the other side of the guardrail along the parking lot. Castiel leans over the guardrail looking for the source of the noise and calls out to whatever is below.

“Help! Fuck, down here,” a voice calls back.

“What are you doing down there?” Castiel asks.

“Fucking fell, please God don’t leave me here,” the voice breaks up in emotion.

The other side of the embankment is a ravine with a twenty-foot vertical fall. Castiel has to come around from another side of the parking lot to make it to the bottom of the ravine without injury. On his way around, he takes out his cell phone and immediately dials for emergency assistance. When the emergency operator answers he tells them he found an injured man that fell down a ravine and requires medical attention. He gives the operator the address, and she tells him that an ambulance is on his way. The operator stays on the phone with Castiel, and he tells her he needs to put his phone away to climb down to the injured man. The emergency operator tells him to keep the line open so he can tell her about his condition when he gets closer.

Castiel has climbed to the bottom of the ravine and asks the man if he is alright.

“No, I can’t fucking move my legs,” the man tells him. “I fell here two days ago. And I can’t believe you are real. I had given up hope, are you God or an angel?”

“My name is Castiel,” Castiel tells the man whose body is resting at an impossible angle.

“My name is Dean,” the injured man says and attempts to smile.

Castiel pulls the phone from his pocket and leaves the operator on speakerphone. “The man appears to have a spinal injury, and he says he can’t move his legs,” he tells the operator.

“Don’t attempt to move him until the paramedics arrive,” Castiel is warned over the phone.

“I called an ambulance, Dean. They should arrive to help you soon.” Castiel says.”Can you tell me what happened?”

“I was just feeling so good for the first time in a long time,” Dean responds. “Just goddamn great like for no fucking reason. I left my apartment, and I just needed to run. I saw this guardrail and just the idea of jumping it took hold, and then I ran, and I jumped over. Then I realized it was a mother fucking cliff on the other side. I didn’t have my goddamn phone on me, so at first I wondered how long it would be before anyone found me. But after a while, I just wanted to be dead and get it over with.”

“I’m sorry Dean. The pain you are suffering through now must be tremendous,” Cas says sympathetically.

“Fuck it is. And I didn’t get why my legs wouldn’t move after I fell. I just thought I knocked the wind out of me. But they are still useless. I had to drag my body using only my arms to this filthy puddle, so I could drink. My brother told me I’d have to hit bottom to get better. And I laughed in his face. But it is fucking scary, Cas. You seem like a straight-edge, so take my advice and don’t be a fuck up like me. Keep up your job and be a good husband and tell your kids the cautionary tale of the guy you saved from falling off a cliff,” Dean tells Castiel.

“I don’t think you are a fuck up, Dean,” Castiel says.

“Jesus, you are either the world’s most understanding person or a fantastic liar. I am stuck here in literally my own shit. And God, I don’t want to die. I’m so fucking glad you found me. I heard your voice and I figured Heaven sent an angel and I was going to miss Sammy, but at least the angel was hot so maybe going to Heaven wouldn’t be that bad. I’m sorry if I’m getting you in trouble with your job. You look like a good guy, and I don’t want to drag you down. I just ruin everything,” Dean rambled.

“No, I’m glad I found you too, Dean. And I won’t leave your side if you want me to stay,” Castiel says.

“I don’t know why but I’m so glad you want to stay Cas,” Dean tells him. “I drive everyone away though, so I won’t be upset when you leave. But right now it makes me really happy that you are here.”

Castiel considers the broken man in front of him and his last two feathers. Dean is staring in to Castiel’s face like he is trying to memorize every detail of it in case he wakes up to learn it was all just a dream, and he is still trapped at the bottom of the ravine, cold, hurt, and alone.

Castiel asks Dean to tell him his last happy memory.

Dean responds without an instant’s hesitation, as though it had been something that he had just been replaying in his mind the past two days on auto-repeat. “Thanksgiving 2005, Sam and I were at Bobby and Ellen’s for Thanksgiving feast. It was perfect. We were all together like a family. The next day Sam told me he was planning on going to law school at Stanford, and I just didn’t cope. I thought he was abandoning me, and I don’t know I just gave up and I couldn’t admit that I wasn’t coping well. I just tried to bury every feeling that I had with alcohol to numb the pain. I lost my license, and I couldn’t keep a job. Sam tried to support me, but I just lied and stole from him.

“I have been thinking a lot about that Thanksgiving. I had been a mess before that too, but after that I just gave up trying. I never dealt with anything in a healthy way. I wish I could tell 2005 Dean to be kinder to me. To look for help, and to admit I wasn’t coping on my own. I’d wish he would have a better than life than me.”

“I can grant you that,” Castiel slowly tells Dean.

“You can grant me that?” Dean looks questioningly at Castiel.

“I am not an angel, but I was a long, long time ago. I have two feathers left and I can use one to send you back and another to fix your body and remove your traumatic memories,” Castiel tells Dean.

“Holy shit! For real? That would be so awesome,” Dean looks up at Castiel. “But I can’t accept it.”

“What? Why not Dean?” Castiel asks tilting his head and squinting at Dean.

“Because those are your magic feathers. And you can’t spend your last two on a fuck up like me. You should end world hunger or wish yourself a better fitting trench coat,” Dean says.

“It would take a lot more than burning two feathers to end world hunger. And I like the way my trench coat fits,” Castiel responds. “I have made my peace with this being my final form. And I’d like to use my final feathers to bring someone else joy.”

“Well, I won’t go back to 2005. I don’t want to leave you,” Dean says.

Surprisingly, even though Castiel has lived with humans for ten thousand years, he had never really fallen in love with anyone. Maybe because he had burned through so many feathers now, he was able to fall in love for the first time. Castiel didn’t know how else to describe the way talking to Dean made his heart feel like it was being clenched in a fist.

“Is that the only reason Dean?” Castiel asks quietly.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t stuck here in my own piss and shit. I would definitely be flirting pretty hard right now,” Dean tells Castiel. “And I think a second chance sounds wonderful, but I think you are wonderful too. And if I get to have a choice I would choose you.”

“What if I went to 2005 with you Dean?” Castiel asks while holding Dean’s gaze steadily.

“Yeah, if you can come back to 2005, that would be just so awesome Cas. You are such a straight-edge like my brother Sammy. You will love him. You will love Bobby and Ellen Singer too. They raised my brother and me, after my mom died and my alcoholic dad took off,” Dean tells Castiel.

“Okay, if that’s what you want, we can both go back then. I can heal your body, but I won’t have enough magic to clear your painful memories. So you’ll remember the past 15 years and all the pain and trauma you’ve experienced,” Castiel tells him.

“S’Okay Cas, falling helped me find you,” Dean says softly.

Castiel can faintly hear the sound of the ambulance sirens now. He reaches for his last two feathers, and he pulls a lighter from his pocket. Dean watches the proceedings, with a look that seems skeptical as to whether his new friend actually has supernatural abilities or is just bat shit crazy.

Castiel mumbles some Enochian, and he sets the feathers on fire. Dean blinks and he is standing in front of Bobby’s house with his hand in Castiel’s.

“Holy Shit! I can stand,” Dean beams at Castiel. Castiel’s final magic had transformed Dean physically back into the 26 year old he had been in 2005. He wasn’t sure what happened to 2005 Dean, maybe he just popped out of existence. Time travel always messed with Cas, and he was happy this had been his last time travelling through time.

“So you told me all about an amazing feast waiting for us here. Are you going to invite me in, or did you oversell it?” Castiel deadpans.

“Oh, you’ll just have to wait and find out,” Dean teases. Dean walks through the door leading Castiel by the hand. “Bobby! Ellen! I’m home!” Bobby and Ellen burst through to the entryway, and Dean gathers both of them in tremendous hugs.

“Whoa, Dean,” Ellen chuckles, “We just saw you this morning, but I do like the affection. I was just telling Bobby I thought you had been acting so withdrawn lately. So I’m glad to see you so happy.”

“Don’t be rude, Dean,” Bobby chides. “Are you going to introduce us to your guest?”

“Castiel, this is Bobby and Ellen Singer. They have raised my brother and me since we were little, and they are officially the world’s greatest parents,” Dean says. “And Bobby and Ellen, this is Castiel. He is awesome, and well we haven’t really talked about what we are to each other yet…”

“I was thinking boyfriend, if you’d like Dean,” Castiel says smiling softly to Dean.

“Yeah, Cas I would really like that,” Dean smiles back. Then Dean turns to Bobby and Ellen who have been watching the two of them talk with some amusement. “Castiel is my boyfriend.”

“In that case, welcome to the family,” Bobby tells Castiel and pulls the young man into a hug. Ellen tells Bobby not to smother the poor thing, and then she pulls Castiel into an even bigger hug. “Oh yeah, and you call me the smotherer.” Bobby chuckles.

“Come on, boys. Jo, Sam, and Jessie are all in the living room. They will be so excited to meet you Castiel,” Ellen says.

“Okay, we will catch up in a minute,” Dean responds. Bobby and Ellen head back towards the kitchen to finish the meal preparations. Once Dean and Castiel are alone, Dean turns to face Castiel, “Are you sure you are okay with this Cas?” Dean asks. “Like I was kind of out of my mind in pain when you found me, but you don’t have to be stuck with me. I’m not going to let myself fall this time. I’m going to admit I need help, and I’m not going to waste my second chance.”

“Well, I’m out of feathers so there is no going back now. But no, I guess this sounds weird since I just met you, but I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you, if that’s okay.” Castiel confesses.

“Whoa, those are some good lines Cas,” Dean smiles. Castiel rolls his eyes at Dean, and Dean laughs good naturedly. “Yeah, I was just kidding. That is probably the most earnest thing I’ve ever heard, but I kind of feel the same way about you. I’m not sure if it’s a real thing, or just because you know you swooped in like a literal angel to save my life just now. But I’d like to find out.”

“Dean, are you going to keep your boyfriend all to yourself or are you coming to the living room so we can all meet him?” Jo yells across the house to Dean.

Dean grins and offers out a hand for Castiel to hold, “Ready to have your mind blown by the best Thanksgiving dinner of all time?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” Castiel nods. After wandering the Earth for ten thousand years, Castiel thinks he has found something that he never knew he was missing. He feels like he found his soulmate, and he holds on to the hand Dean offers and hopes that he never has to let it go.

[wincore]

hiii moonnn !! for the kiss prompt , may I request johnny pls 🥺 place: under the stars & love as the reason ! tysm this is an honour bc u’re one of my fave nct writers 😙💖

thank u darling for enjoying my writing!!

theme: boyfriend!au, demigod!au (greek mythology)

“So…are you gonna tell me why you brought me up here or…?”

“Do I need a reason?” Johnny grins at you, chin resting on his forearms atop the roof of his car.

“I can’t help but think you’re up to something,“ you state, narrowing your eyes at him from the other side. 

Johnny lets out a short chuckle before closing the door of the car and motioning for you to follow. When your boyfriend said he’s taking you on an adventure, you quite literally had no clue what to expect. Everything’s an adventure to the man—even if it’s just going out at 3 a.m. to get hot ramen from the convenience store right beside your apartment. You didn’t think it’d be an hour drive, dozing off on Johnny’s shoulder by the time you reached.

You take two steps after him before you gasp.

“Don’t tell me we’re meeting your dad!” 

The blood drains from your face at the idea. A God among Gods—you wish that were an understatement—is unlikely to meet mere human beings on a whim, lesser beings as one of the other demigod children had labeled bitterly. He’s a God, feared and admired since times of war and prayers. So what gives you, a mortal, enough confidence to face someone as divine, as powerful? It makes you uneasy.

You shake out of your trance to find Johnny laughing, doubled over.

“We’re not really meeting him but- you’re that scared of my dad?” he says, calming down from his fit. “Even I’m not that terrified of him, babe.”

“Shut up,” you say, cheeks coloring. “It’s not exactly everyday I meet someone who can smite me out of existence.”

“Relax! He’s pretty easy-going,” your boyfriend reassures you, taking hold of your hand. “Besides, he likes hanging out at the beach. And he’s got, like, a bajillion other kids to worry about.”

You rub your thumb over his knuckles, a sigh leaving your lips.

“He can’t be that bad,” you mumble, feeling somewhat sorry.

“Oh,” Johnny says with a dismissive tone, “Pretty sure he’s won worst dad of the year several times, actually. Only beaten by Zeus himself.”

You want to laugh but you stiffen. 

“Are you allowed to say his name like that?!” You lower your voice, eyes shifting around nervously.

“If Zeus could hear everyone saying his name, he’d be, uh, hearing some delicate words pretty often.” Johnny shrugs. “And then we’d have more thunderstorms.“ 

You laugh, easing, Johnny’s eyes lighting up at the sound. They always make you feel warm in the chest, with how pretty those almond eyes are. He tugs at your hand, and you follow him up a beaten road before diverging into a less visible track.

It’s a long walk uphill, however, and Johnny has it easy when his legs are so fucking long. The wind gets chilly and you cling onto Johnny’s hand for a little piece of warmth. A break would be nice. You stop halfway through, swearing at your boyfriend for choosing such a godforsaken place but continue nonetheless when he frowns, a look in his eyes you don’t want to upset. 

Johnny doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time. He’s been this way since you started dating, perhaps even before—a little protective with the need to feel your touch at all times. It’s understandable and you found it endearing despite how often he refuses to let go. (And his strength and stature make it next to impossible to break free.)

It wasn’t hard to tell there was something off about your boyfriend; maybe not the first or second time you met him, but eventually, it was clear. You met in university after all, and it’s not the full uni experience unless all your secrets are laid bare by the end of first year. 

Johnny was a natural people person, everyone drawn to him like he was made of honey, of things so sweet. But there was something about him, oh it nagged you day and night, a silvery whisper. The way he spoke, the way he smiled—there was a quiet difference you just couldn’t put your finger on. He’s aced every athletics club entrance test for fun, a little awkward at reading his text material and always hanging around the swimming pool for too long—gosh, were the number of people ogling him extraordinarily high then. There were so many hints and you’d missed all of them. 

You’ve met demigods before, just not one like this. Johnny was almost unworldly were it not for his habit of making everyone feel at ease. It took you a while to figure out.

Son of Poseidon, gentle eyes and sun-crinkles—how could you miss it? The way he smells of golden amber and sea musk, calloused hands and deep eyes, just all of him, really. It was hard to not find him attractive. But it was harder to answer if that was all. 

The place gets closer—you know because you can see a soft smile forming on Johnny’s face. You quicken your pace to match his footsteps, curiosity peaking as you notice your boyfriend get giddier.

The water glows a gentle blue, in contrast with the darker shade of its surroundings. They reflect the stars, their shine not dulled through the distance and a certain twinkling you haven’t seen in them in quite a while. Water lilies bloom bright, small frogs jumping in and out of the water. There might be some fish too but they’re elusive, invisible if you try too hard to spot them. 

It’s a clear sky tonight. You sigh at the warmth, quite possibly a result of the habitation around here but you’re glad it soothes the cool air. (”You like this kind of thing, don’t you?” “Hm, yeah.”)

“You will not believe how I had to impress the Naiads to find this place,“ Johnny tells you, walking closer to the spring to stand beside you.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, the implication of his words not quite what you expected. “Impress, huh?”

“No- babe, that’s not- I mean, of course not,“ Johnny looks at you with mock hurt.

“Naiads do love a son of Poseidon,“ you mumble, turning away to face the waters. 

Johnny wraps his arms around you, resting his chin atop your head. “Oh, but this son of Poseidon only loves you.”

“Johnny, that’s cheesy,” you say looking down, the heat quite rushed to your cheeks. You want to call him an idiot but the word falls short.

“But you’re enjoying it,” he hums.

“I enjoy everything about you.”

You feel Johnny shake with soft laughter, swaying gently at his own pace. You don’t know when you started to see Johnny in most everything—in the new dog cafes, in midnight city rains, in children playing volleyball. Call it love, call it more.

You turn around. “I—”

Johnny presses his mouth against yours in a kiss that makes you melt and you clutch the fabric of his hoodie for support. His arms wind around your waist, secure as always and he hums when you push against him. 

“Baby’s getting bolder, hm?” he murmurs between kisses with a laugh. You respond with a weak sound.

You remember the first time you kissed him, not quite sober and he had pushed you away only to spend the night with you. The whiskey still burns on your tongue sometimes. 

You don’t need to see fireworks when you kiss, just taste the late night coffee and a bit of Johnny. 

A son of a God and his lips, tongue, fingers, love—the texts and scribes were nothing close to describing it perfectly. You forget the words you meant to tell him.

But you don’t have to say ‘I love you’; it’s there in your mouth and he can taste it.

//

“No, I don’t wanna listen to the minotaur story again!” Johnny shakes you by the shoulders. “It’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But why? I think it’s funny—”

“Yeah, Dad’s very creative but…gross.”

You laugh at his disgust, nose wrinkled and a mild shaking of his head. 

“Tell me another story,” he says, leaning in, “Something more…romantic.”

You breathe out quickly at the sudden proximity, heart in your throat. His smile grows and you resist the urge to huff at him. He’s unbearable when he knows he’s under your skin. Gods, it was harder to admit you fell in love with him than it was to find out his heritage.

You reach out and move the hair out of his face, marveling at how he manages to keep it soft when he used to be a sweaty college student pretty often. Memories are funny in a way, they keep you so closely tied. There’s an embarrassing amount of pictures of him on your phone, the ones he sent from the dorms, from his new job, sometimes family photos during holidays. It gets busy a lot, but sometimes, just sometimes, it’s like this. 

You wonder if Gods get to have happy endings. You wonder if there’s more to the constellations they made.

“Hello?” Johnny pretends to knock on your forehead.

“Something more romantic, hm? Okay,” you say and he goes back to laying his head on your lap, twirling the water in wisps around his fingers to spell random words. You bend to press a kiss to his forehead, a surprised smile wavering onto his face as the water splashes beside you.

“Baby, you might want to have aimed lower.” Johnny winks at you.

“You’re so annoying. I’m in love with you.”

[lightningbugqueen]

The Sinner and the Saint

     The hunt had gone nicely. Well, as nicely as taking down a nest of over 10 vamps could go. Sam and Jack had volunteered to do cleanup duty, and since there was no need for Dean and Cas to stick around, they had hopped in Baby and started the journey home. No matter how much Cas loved these drives with Dean in his beloved car, out of state cases were starting to get more and more tiresome for the brothers. Cas was even in need of a good four hours, which was a very rare occurrence for an angel like himself. They sat in that familiar, comfortable silence, human and angel, hunter and warrior, sinner and saint. At least, that was what people called them. Cas didn’t see it like that. Dean wasn’t just a human, he was so much more than a hunter, more sinner than a saint. Dean was the beacon of light that guided Cas through Hell. He was the dazzling smile that made this life worth it, the spark of life that thawed the cold, the magnificent being that Cas rebelled for, that Cas fought for, that Cas died for. And he didn’t regret any of it, because Dean, his Dean, made it all worth while. Of course, Dean would never really be his. His best friend, yes. His, no.

       Cas really was tired, so he tried to situate himself in a way that was comfortable for him, but not uncomfortable for Dean. Cas was always conscious of how Dean was feeling, he couldn’t fathom even causing him discomfort. Cas would give anything to simply lay his head on Dean’s shoulder, or in his lap, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. That would be crossing the line drawn with “buddy”s, shoulder pats, and “brother”s. So, he just positioned his head against the window, and closed his eyes. He continued to twitch, shuffle, and situate himself until Dean finally had enough, 

“Dude. Just put your head in my lap or something. All this moving is driving me nuts.” Cas could barely contain the smile that split his face, but as soon as his head stilled on Dean’s legs, the worries started back. It was going to be that much harder to hide his feelings for Dean if domestic things like this kept happening. Cas may not be the best at interpreting human social cues, but he knew what crossed the line of friendship. He was fairly certain that putting one’s head in the lap of another meant “more than friends”, as Sam had said once. Cas did his best to silence these thoughts, closing his eyes, and slowing his breathing. He focused on the things around him, Dean’s quiet breaths, the rumble of the Impala, and the leather of the seat beneath him. After an hour of Cas doing his best to remain completely still, but never quite falling asleep, he heard Dean start talking. It was very odd, for Cas was fairly certain Dean thought him asleep, and no one else was in the car. Dean started with little mutterings, about Sam, or Jack, or how he was going to wash Baby when they returned. It occurred to Cas that these sentences sounded very similar to the ones that Cas heard when Dean accidentally prayed to him. But soon, Dean’s words became more like he was actually talking to Cas, and at the same time one of his hands found it’s way into Cas’ hair. 

“You know Cas, this past hunt scared me more than I told you guys. I never tell you when something scares me, even though I should. I hate using bait. Putting someone in danger so you can catch the bad guy? Dammit Cas, why do we do that? No, I know, it’s better than leaving the vamps to hurt more people, but still. I just hate it. I know it won’t do any good to tell you all this, you can’t hear me, but maybe that’s why. Wouldn’t everything be better with no consequences? No, then people could do bad things then get away with them. Anyway, I was saying that I hated this hunt. And bait. Just, seeing you walk in that barn, unarmed, terrified me. I know you’re an angel, you can smite them all, but still. I can’t lose you. Not again” At this point Cas understood what was happening, and had to stop himself from getting up to comfort Dean. But Cas knew that wasn’t what he needed. He needed to get everything off his chest, and if Cas showed Dean that he was awake, he would be upset. But that comment, that Dean thought about losing Cas, hurt. 

“You matter too much to me, Cas. You, Sam, Jack. You’re my family” that word, family, had begun to hurt Cas. Yes, Dean loved him, but not the way Cas wanted him to. But Dean just continued, unaware of the very awake turmoil going on in Cas’ mind.

 “ I’ve lost Sam before, Jack too. It hurt, but I kept living. But....those months when you were gone. Purgatory, the Leviathans, working with Crowely, when you were human, even when you were with Hannah, they were horrible. The idea that I couldn’t see you, couldn’t be near you, couldn’t talk to you.....It was so painful Cas. I drank more during those months than I normally do in a year. So please, never leave me again. I love you too much for that.” Cas’ heart stopped. Even though he knew that Dean meant it completely platonically, those words. But, Dean had stopped talking. Correction, Dean had stopped talking in sentences. All Cas could hear now was a constant stream of “Fuck!”s, “Hell”s, and one very articulate, “Son of a bitch!” It confused Cas. Dean had said that he loved him before, why was this different? Then he felt a prodding at his grace. A prayer, but a weak one. This generally meant someone was thinking about him, and accidentally praying, but why would that be happening now? Dean had just been talking to him, there was no need for a prayer. But he went ahead and listened anyway. Turned out it was Dean, but not in the way he thought. 

Shit Fucking Hell! Do I? But.....no. No that’s not possible because I am the straightest man to ever heterosexual. But Cas isn’t a man or a woman. He’s a multidimensional��wavelength of celestial intent! What does that even mean? Can I love him like that? Does it matter? He doesn’t love me. But I love him. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. I fucking love him. Shit. 

Now, Dean was obviously have a major sexuality crisis, but Cas couldn’t focus on that. Dean loved him. Dean loved him. Dean loved him. So Cas just stayed there, and listened to Dean figure it out. 

I love him. Of course I do. How could anyone not? He’s smart and kind and loyal and strong and a freaking angel of the Lord. Oh shit. He’s an angel of the lord. Doesn’t God like, not like gay people? But Cas isn’t human. So it doesn’t matter. Also, Chuck’s a dick. Can angel even feel attraction? I mean, I’m pretty sure Gabe and Balthazar weren’t exactly celibate, but Cas sure is. What if I tell him? Will he hate me? 

Dean’s thoughts continued like this for a very long time, and Castiel’s reactions to them ranged from practical heart eyes, to righteous fury, to overwhelming pain at Dean’s self doubt. How could his beloved ever think he wasn't good enough? How could he think Cas wasn’t madly in love with him? Finally, Dean’s though calmed down, and a mantra began in Dean’s head. 

I love him. He doesn’t love me. I can’t tell him. I don’t know what to do. I’ll figure it out. 

On and on it went, and Cas could barely keep himself from shooting up and kissing Dean. Kissing him until those awful though disappeared, kissing him until he couldn't anymore, kissing him until, without a doubt, Dean knew just how far Cas had fallen for him. 

They reached the bunker without Dean saying another word. When Dean got out, Cas remained still, continuing his false slumber. Until, of course, the passenger door opened. Strong arms enveloped Cas’ body, and Dean lifted the angel to his chest, carrying him bridal style. And finally, finally, Cas saw his chance. Right as Dean straightened he mumbled a quiet, calm, “I love you too.” 

Dean froze. Cas slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the beautiful man holding him. Dean was staring at him, eyes wide with fear and....wonder? 

“You heard?” he asked timidly. Cas just nodded and a small smile made its way on his face. 

“All of it” Cas replied, “And uh, your thoughts were prayers.” Dean continued to stare at him. 

“And?” he finally asked. 

“And I love you. And you are the most amazing and kind and beautiful and strong and loving man I know. And I have wished for years that you felt the same way about me that I do you. And I have fallen for you more than once Dean Winchester.” Dean held his gaze, processing what he had said. He slowly let Cas’ feet fall to the floor, and soon Cas was standing directly in front of him. Dean reached out tentatively, and wrapped his hands around Cas’ neck. They continued to stare at each other, Cas still smiling quietly. Dean pulled Cas’ head forward, until their foreheads were touching. They stayed like this for what could have been seconds or years, until Dean moved his head that fraction of an inch that made all the difference. Their lips touched, and the tension that had been building for 11 years was finally released. This moment was more magical than any spell, any magic, any demon or archangel or witch or ghoul. In this moment two people meant for each other, two people so madly in love that one sacrificed their life for the other, one fell from heaven for the other, finally professed their love. Two people who found their home, their heaven in the each other. Two people, human and angel, hunter and warrior, sinner and saint, finally met in the middle for an instant that would change their lives forever. They found their light in the dark, they hand to hold, their love. And they never, never let it go. 

Thanks so much @deano-cas for this amazing prompt. I loved writing this so much! 

[fangirlingtodeath513]

Paper Hearts | a 15x03 coda

“Would you have done it? If you were in my place and it was Cas that had to sacrifice himself, would you have killed him?” Sam’s voice barely cutting through the air as he says it. Dean almost doesn’t hear it, but his stupid heart clenches in his chest and he knows the answer immediately. No sense in lying now, not after everything that's happened.

“No,” he answers without hesitation, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “No,” he repeats a little more forcefully, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Then don’t you dare stand there and go on about how we won. This isn’t a win, this is so far from a win, Dean.” Sam puts his head in his hands for a moment before running his fingers through his hair. “Once again, Chuck’s stupid prophecy comes true. We were—it wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I was never going to kill her,” he mutters, gripping his hair loosely in his hands.

Dean thinks about leaving, but this is his little brother, he can’t leave Sam alone like this. He crosses the room in two steps, sitting next to Sam on the bed and pulling him into a tight hug. Sam resists but only for a moment before he grabs at Dean’s shirt and breaks down. He soaks Dean’s shoulder with tears and Dean’s breathing in more hair than oxygen, but it doesn’t matter. Sam just had to watch the woman he loves die, he can deal with a little discomfort if it means his brother gets to grieve properly.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not a win at all. Never seems to be, with us. We always manage to avert the crisis, but usually by sacrificing someone we love. Our ourselves.”

Sam nods once, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. He clutches Dean for another couple of minutes before he pulls away and dries his face off on the arm of his flannel, eyes downcast. “Thanks. That helped a little, actually.”

Dean’s mouth quirks in a smile as he squeezes Sam’s shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be in the library.”

X

Sam finds him in the gym three hours later when he goes in search of food. Everything’s destroyed—there are dents in the walls from where the weights had been bashed into the concrete, the punching bag is hanging limply on one of the two chains it normally hangs on, benches are overturned and mats are strewn haphazardly around the room. Dean’s sitting in the middle of all the chaos, head in his hands and shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Sam frowns, hesitating in the doorway. There’s no way Dean’s this upset about Rowena, he hadn’t even really liked her. He tended to only tolerate her because she was helpful to have around. Maybe this is Dean finally reacting to what Chuck’s done, it would make sense. None of them have really had the opportunity to digest what’s going on now, with God entirely against them and hell-bent on ending the world and resetting his story.

After several minutes lingering in the doorway, Sam decides to brave whatever Dean’s about to throw at him and take a few steps into the room. Dean doesn’t look up, not even when Sam comes to a stop in front of him.

“Dean?” Sam says softly, crouching down with a frown. “You okay? What happened?”

Dean swipes under his eyes angrily, running a hand through his hair. “Cas left. I was gonna come down here and work out some anger, but…” he waves a hand around the room, sniffing quietly. “Guess you see how well that worked.”

Sam’s brows furrow and he takes a seat in front of Dean. “What do you mean Cas left?”

“He left. Said Jack was gone and you an’ I had each other, so maybe it was time for him to move on.” Dean’s voice is bitter as he says it and his eyes stay locked on a patch of floor in front of him. Sam can’t tell if he embarrassed or still angry, or maybe both. Regardless, Dean had let him grieve before, and while Cas may not be dead, it’s still a loss.

“That’s what he said? There had to have been more of a reason than that.”

Dean stays silent this time, jaw twitching as he does his best to avoid Sam’s question. Right, so that’s a question for another time, then. Sam clears his throat, pushing himself to his feet. “I was getting kind of hungry, you want to go grab a bite to eat? Get some burgers or something? I’m craving some greasy diner food.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at him. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed. He’s obviously been crying for a while, which hurts Sam to the core. He’s never actually seen Dean this upset before, not even after Charlie, not even after Mary. “You want greasy food? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

Sam snorts. “It’s the end of the world, Dean. Might as well give up the healthy food and live a little before God smites us all.”

Dean gazes curiously at him for a moment before nodding once. “Yeah, diner food sounds good right about now. I’m gonna go change and stuff, I’ll meet you at the car.”

Dean doesn’t spare him a second glance as he rises to his feet and disappears down the hallway. Sam sighs, pulling out his phone as he heads for the garage.

Cas, you know you’re welcome here, right? Jack or no Jack, you’re family. Dean’s a wreck, just let me know you’re okay?

He doesn’t expect an answer as he unlocks the Impala and slides into the passenger’s seat but almost as soon as he touches the leather, his phone chimes.

I’m okay, Sam. I  think it’s best if I stay away. Call me if you need anything, though I don’t know how much longer I’ll be useful. My powers are fading.

Sam frowns and begins to type out an answer as Dean appears in the garage. Apparently, Dean and Cas aren’t in the best spot right now, so Sam tucks his phone away and smiles at his brother as he gets in the car. “Greasy diner food?”

“Greasy diner food,” Dean confirms, tapping the button that opens the garage door and pulling the Impala onto the road.

[razieltwelve]

Dog Park (RWBY AU Snippet)

This is set in the same AU as Hero.

X     X     X

Ever since Jaune had picked up Scruffy, he’d been making regular trips to the dog park near his house. His dog wasn’t much to look at - hence his name - but he was a friendly little guy with plenty of fight in him and a big heart. He hadn’t really been looking for a dog, but he’d known, as soon as he’d seen him, that Scruffy was the dog for him.

There weren’t always a lot of people at the dog park when he went, especially since he often had to go at awkward hours due to his job as a policeman. But Scruffy didn’t mind. The little guy just liked having a chance to run around without a leash, and he actually got along pretty well with all of the other dogs.

However, there was one person who was usually around when he was there. It was hard to describe her. She was kind of, well, about as ordinary and average as it was possible to be. Even so, she seemed like a kind person although they hadn’t really said more than a few words to each other. All of the dogs seemed to like her, and Scruffy got along really well with the tricoloured corgi she had.

Since it was his day off and the spring weather was perfect for a walk, Jaune decided to head down to the dog park with Scruffy. The dog was a mix of different breeds, but if Jaune had to guess, he’d bet he was mostly corgi although it was tough to be sure.

“Come on, boy.” Jaune waved Scruffy over. “Let’s go for a walk.”

The walk down to the dog park went quickly enough. He was on good terms with everyone in the neighbourhood, and he made a few stops at some of the local businesses just to be sure that everything was okay. He was glad to hear there wasn't much going on except for the occasional rowdy teenager, but the school year was coming to a close, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear that some of them were being a bit rambunctious.

When he got to the dog park, he took off Scruffy’s leash. “Looks like we’re the only ones here today, boy. Well, it is a bit early. I’m sure more people will turn up in an hour or so.”

As Jaune followed Scruffy around the park - the dog was always happiest running around and sniffing at things - he thought back to how much his life had changed over the past several months. He hadn’t exactly been promoted, but he was doing a bit more as a policeman than he had been. He’d even pulled over a drunk driver the other night, and he’d caught a couple of thieves too. It was exciting, and it felt good to be doing his part to keep the community safe.

Oh, and he’d started dating a goddess.

He couldn’t leave that bit out.

Pyrrha was… amazing, and he wasn’t saying that just because she was a goddess. Oh, sure, she was beautiful, but that wasn’t it. She was just… she was so kind and compassionate, but she was fierce and brave and determined too. The better he got to know her, the more sense it made that she was the goddess of emergency services personnel like firemen, ambulance officers, and police. She embodied both the unshakeable desire and conviction to protect, as well as care and compassion.

It had been so overwhelming to realise that Pyrrha, a goddess, was interested in him. It didn’t make a lot of sense. He was just some rookie policeman, but it had helped a little when he’d gotten to know some of the other Chosen of the gods. Apparently, they had a club, and after talking to some of them, he’d come to realise that for all of their awesome might and power, the gods were perhaps not as different for mortals as he’d thought.

Oh, and the stories… the stories were hilarious. His favourite so far had been the one Ren had told about Nora hurling her hammer down from the heavens to smite a rambunctious tuna that Ren had caught which was attempting to escape. Apparently, Nora had been convinced it was trying to assassinate him.

As they circled back around to the entrance of the dog park, Jaune smiled. It was the woman again, the one who was always there.

“Hey!” he waved. “Walking Zwei again?”

The woman smiled. “Well, Zwei does enjoy the great outdoors.” She had dark hair and grey eyes, and there was something about her that was at once soothing and attention-grabbing. “Scruffy looks like he’s having fun.”

“Yeah, he loves coming here.” Jaune laughed as Scruffy headed over to greet Zwei. The corgi the woman had bore a fairly strong resemblance to the legendary dog that belonged to Death. She’d probably named him after the real Zwei since it was well known that the divine dog enjoyed having things named after him. “How are you doing today?”

“Oh, busy, but I’m used to it. You?” She fell into step beside him. 

“It’s my day off, actually.” Jaune grinned. “So I got to wake up late, do nothing all morning, and then come here. It’s been a pretty much perfect day. The only thing I’m missing is a burger, and I’m supposed to be getting one with my, uh, girlfriend later.”

“A girlfriend?” The woman smiled. “What’s she like?”

“Well…” Jaune didn’t want to boast about dating a goddess, so he settled for an accurate but not complete description. “She’s great. She’s really smart and kind and compassionate, and we do the same sort of work.” Admittedly, Pyrrha’s job involved saving people on a far grander scale, but it was kind of the same, right? “And we make each other laugh, so it’s going quite well, I think.”

“That’s nice.” The woman’s smile was very warm indeed. “You know, this is the first time we’ve really talked.” 

“Yeah… I guess it is. It’s nice though.”

“So… where’d you get Scruffy?” the woman asked. “I mean, he’s a friendly, little guy, but he looks a little…”

“Scruffy?” Jaune chuckled. “To be honest, I found him. You know that big storm a few months back?” The woman nodded. “I found him huddled in an alley near my apartment. Poor guy was soaking wet and thin as a reed. I couldn’t just leave him out there, so I took him in. I was going to give him to an animal shelter or something, but I guess he grew on me. I can’t really imagine not having him around now.”

“He was quite lucky you found him.” The woman’s eyes twinkled. “Or maybe it just wasn’t his time to die.”

“I’m hoping he’s got plenty of years left,” Jaune confessed. “It’s amazing how much he’s become part of my life.”

“Oh, I think he’ll be around for a while.” The woman paused as Jaune’s phone began to beep. “Do you have an appointment?”

Jaune’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap. I lost track of time. I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend in an hour.” He scratched the back of his head. “I better head back and get ready.” He extended one hand. “It was really nice meeting you. I’m Jaune.”

“Ruby,” the woman said. “And it was nice to meet you too.”

It took Jaune a few minutes to get Scruffy, and he was in such a hurry that he never noticed the pickup truck that ran a red light as he was about to cross the road…

“Jaune!” Ruby shouted.

Jaune paused mid-stride and looked back. “Yeah?”

Ruby smiled. “You might want to pay more attention when you cross the road.”

“What do you…” Jaune trailed off as the speeding pickup rushed past. If he’d crossed the road just then…

“Pyrrha would be really upset if something happened to you, so be more careful.” Ruby’s eyes were no longer grey. They were a radiant silver, and her hair was no longer merely dark. It was blacker than the dead of night. Her simple sweater was replaced by a cloak the colour of freshly spilt blood. “And don’t worry about Scruffy. Zwei likes him, and that means a lot, you know.”

“…” Jaune could only stare as Ruby vanished, along with her dog. It took a few moments for it to sink in. “That… that was Death and her dog.” Scruffy tilted his head to one side. It was like the dog had known all along. Then again… Zwei was the Lord of Corgis… “I just talked to Death… and she saved me.” Jaune shook himself. “Okay. Focus. I can worry about Death later. Right now I need to focus on my date with Pyrrha.”

X     X     X

Death smiled as she noticed the box of cookies that had been left at one of her temples. It had all of her favourites. It was from Pyrrha.

“Well,” Death murmured. “After the way things went last time, I thought I’d help her out.” At her side, Zwei wagged his tail. “And, hey, if I get cookies out of it, I’m not going to complain.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

A bit more about Jaune here. He’s a good guy in this AU, and it’s nice of Death to give him and Pyrrha a helping hand. And, hey, if Zwei likes Scruffy, it’s not like he can just let Jaune get run over by a pickup truck. Incidentally, Scruffy knew exactly who Zwei was right from the start. Animals are generally much better at sensing divine beings, and Zwei is the Lord of Corgis. Any dog that is even part corgi would recognise him on sight.

Maybe next time I’ll cover Jaune and Pyrrha’s date. Naturally, it won’t go exactly to plan.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon. Please check out my newest story on Amazon. It’s called Monster Whisperer.

[theentiregdtime]

Are you taking prompts beacuse I would love to read about Dennis getting angsty and jelous beacuse Mac is on a date or something(bonus points if he talks to Dee about it, I live for some good ol sibling-bonding) ur writing is wonderful btw💕💕

Mac has a date tonight.

He has a date and Dennis is absolutely livid.

Not that he’s mad about the date itself- no, no, he’s madbecause Mac has been lying to him for the entirety of the past three days.

“Who are you texting?” Dennis had asked him as he typedaway furiously on his phone, completely ignoring the McTiernan film they werewatching. Mac said it was Charlie, but that was suspicious- he was sending fartoo many words for Charlie to read; they almost exclusively communicatedthrough pictures and one-liners. He let it go and ground his teeth, listeningto the maddening sound of Mac’s thumbs tap-tap-tapping against the screen forthe rest of the movie.

The next day, Dennis suggested they try that new Thai place by their apartment for their monthly dinner, and that they should makereservations in advance. He knew Mac didn’t always like to try new restaurants,considering the dinner a holy ritual and not wanting to risk its sanctity, butDennis was floored when he flat-out said he couldn’t come. He’d used thatcautious, sing-song tone, too- and avoided eye contact as he told him he had togo see his mom that night. “It’s the same night every month, Mac, can you notvisit the woman another time? I mean, she doesn’t even like you!” Mac insistedon rescheduling anyways.

And today… today was the apex of it all. Today was thefucking crescendo to the three-day shit symphony. Mac had left his phone in theback office- unattended, for once- and Dennis definitely wasn’t snooping,because he doesn’t care about what Mac gets up to in his spare time. He was simply searching the desk for a marker to prove a point to Charlie about facial symmetry when a text lit up the screen…and it just so happened to catch his eye. It was from someone named Drew with ablack heart next to her name saying their reservation was moved to 7. It allhit Dennis at once- Mac texting nonstop, cancelling their plans, insisting ontaking the night off early- he had a date. He stood up their monthly dinner,their most sacred of traditions, for a goddamn date. He’d slipped out sometime around five-thirty, without somuch as a goodbye, leaving the rest of them to tackle the evening rush understaffed.

Granted, the evening rush consists of about six downtroddenchain smokers and an older couple that frequents to sleep in the booths, butstill!

Dennis leans onto the bar and takes a swig of his beer. Hesnarls in the back of his throat, half because he’s fuming at Mac and halfbecause his drink has gone sickeningly warm.

“Dude, you gotta stop that,” Charlie whines as he cleans chewedgum from underneath the counter, stowing the remnants in his pocket for somereason, “you sound like a dying cat.”

Before he can defend himself, Dee resurfaces with a tray ofempty glasses. She has a couple of crumpled bills sticking out of her pocket,which she uses like seed money, to make it seem as if she’s tippable. It’spathetic.

“Aww,” she teases with a childish sneer on her face, “didsomeone get stood up for their little dinner date?”

Dennis lets a long, exasperated sigh through clenched teeth.“Fuck off, Dee.”

“Whoa,” she replies, still laughing, with mockingly wideeyes. “Someone’s jealous.”

Charlie cuts in. “If you’re, like, lonely or something,Frank and I could come over and watch-”

“No, goddamn it!” Dennis shrieks and throws his hands in theair. “I am not jealous, all right? I do not care with whom Macchooses to consort in his spare time! As a matter of fact, I’m happy to havethe apartment to myself for once. It’s the charades I can’t stand. Theguy comes out of the closet every third Tuesday and goes right back in, gallivantingabout with women like he’s James fucking Bond! I don’t know about you, but Ifor one, am sick and tired of it.”

“Well, maybe it’s not-”

“Why do you care?” Dee talks over Charlie. “If he’shappy straight pride paradin’ around, then I say let him do it.”

“Because it is goddamn ridiculous, Dee!” Dennis counters.He’s been dealing with this for the past twenty years and he’s about reachedhis limit- the bullshit meter is almost to the top of his head- and he has morethan earned the right to be annoyed. “He brings loose women home, flaunts themaround in front of me like I’m to be impressed by his romantic prowess,pretends to enjoy making love to them, and for what? Because he can’t commit tobeing gay? Because a nonexistent god will send lightning down upon him to smitehim? It is absolutely absurd!”

Charlie and Dee share a look, and Dennis doesn’t know what itmeans, but he does know that he wants to hit them both across the facewith one good, honest backhand slap.

“So crash the date! Steal his girl! Ya’ know, cuck him!”Frank, suddenly at the bar and hoisting himself onto a stool, says much tooloudly. Luckily, their weeknight crowd is too busy drowning themselves in theirown sorrows to take notice. “Deandra keeps track of us on her pager.”

“I do not-”

“You stalk our locations, Dee, really?” Dennis questions. “Nowthat is just pathetic.”

“How… How do you do that?” Charlie wonders, starting to patat the back of his neck. “Like, with a chip or…?”

“No, see, what Frank is implying,” he explains, “is thatSweet Dee here watches us on her phone, everywhere we go, so she can livevicariously through us and make believe she has a personal life while she watchesLifetime movies and eats a family-size cheesecake by her lonesome. It’s justsad.”

“Hey, don’t take this out on me, bitch, I’m not the one whostood you up!” Dee yelps in a voice like an irate chihuahua. “Besides, Charlie,I can never see you, anyways.”

“He keeps his phone at home,” Frank says, chewing an oliveopen-mouthed like a horse, “in a bag of rice.”

“Well, maybe if you stopped taking it to the sewers, itwouldn’t get wet,” she suggests.

“Wet? I’m trying to keep it safe! If- If my apartmentgets robbed, they’re not gonna steal a bag of jambalaya!”

“You- You keep it in cooked rice?”

“Would you all shut up?!” Dennis shouts and slams his handsdown on the counter, rattling the empty glasses. He is at his wit’s end, and ifhe has to listen to this conversation a minute longer, his migraine is going topop his eyeballs out of his head. When he speaks again, his voice is level. “Fine.Let’s do it.”

Dee raises an eyebrow. “You want to crash Mac’s date?”

“Yes. Not because I care,” he clarifies, “but becauseI can’t play this game with him anymore. I am going to put a stop to this onceand for all.” Finishing off the last of his beer, he jams a finger in Frank andCharlie’s direction. “You two: no inventions, no possums, no dinner theatre-nothing except bartending and breathing.”

Charlie raises a hand. “What about-”

“No glue-eating contests, either, buddy.”

He puts his arm down with a pout.

“Let’s go, Dee. You’re driving.”

She scoffs in offense. “What? Why am I driving? Whyam I even going?”

“Well, what if they move around? You’re the stalker, I needyou on my team.” Dennis flits a hand around the room, out over their dominionof drunken singles and slumbering elderly. “It’s not as if you’re making tips.”

Besides, he knows she enjoys crap like this. She can pretendshe doesn’t care about the rest of them all she wants, claim she simply wantsto be left alone, but Dennis knows her better than anyone and he knows she likesto be included. He knows she lives for drama.

As expected, she resigns herself with a “fine” and followshim out of the pub.

—–

“Dee, truly, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart…Your music is the goddamn worst.”

They have listened to three Hole songs in a row, all ofwhich are essentially the same song, about scorning men and rejectingthe norms of society- none of which Dee, who bases her self-worth upon ratingsand the male gaze, can relate to in any way. Besides, the guitar sounds likeit’s in a fish tank.

Dennis would have driven himself, but unfortunately, heneeds Dee as his accomplice tonight. 

Plus, it’s good that he doesn’t have to dothis alone. It’s good to have the company… not that he’ll ever say that aloud.

“I’m doing you a favor, you boner,” she replies, but there’sno malice in it. In fact, she kind of sounds like she’s enjoying herself.

Again, Dee is fond of a good revenge plot. What else wouldshe be doing right now, if not for this, anyhow? Impressions of celebrities fortips? A reality TV marathon in her bathrobe? This has to be the height of hersad, lonely, joyless night.

She’s very skilled at the whole vengeance thing, too.Sometimes her schemes shock even Dennis. It’s always been that way, ever sincethey were children. Dee would whip out a notebook and map out a meticulously-plottedrevenge plan while Dennis simply went along for the ride (and chickened out,half of the time, because he didn’t want to upset their mother or get into trouble). That’s something else he won’t tell her out loud, that he’simpressed with- and often disgusted by- her work.

“Well, are we almost there?” he complains, tapping hisfingernail against the door to the growling music and watching pedestriansthrough the window.

Dee glances at her phone. “Chill out, it’s after the nextlight.”

Wait…

Dennis raises his head, casting a suspicious glanceto the GPS, then back to the road in front of them.

“No…” he mutters to himself.

Sure enough, it is.

When they make the turn and pull up outside of therestaurant, it’s the fucking Thai place Dennis told Mac about just yesterday.He stole the idea from him! He’s having dinner, on their night, at a newrestaurant he was fully aware Dennis wanted to try, with some randomfloosy. Dennis should be the floosy! He should be drinking SangSom and eatingcoconut shrimp! He should be there, because it’s their goddamn monthlydinner, it is their night, and Mac wouldn’t have even known this place existedif not for him!

Oh, he is so furious, he could just scratch him…

“That impertinent son of a bitch!”

“Yeah, I kinda thought they’d be at, like, Taco Bell-”

“It’s not that!”

Dennis takes a moment, sighing through pursed lips, steadyinghis rage, then turns to face his sister.

“We were supposed to have dinner here! This wassupposed to be our reservation! Then this Drew woman comes along-”

“Wait, Drew-”

“And soils the entire thing! Our whole rhythm is broken. Wewon’t be able to have a proper dinner for months now, the vibe is all wrong.”

Dee scrunches her face up at him, like she does when he’snot making any sense, but he is making sense, he’s making more sensethan he’s ever made!

“Couldn’t you just do your little bros night out tomorrow?Or the next day?” 

Dennis rolls his eyes. What a ludicrous question.

“It’s not about the schedule, Dee,” he says, waving hishands around wildly, “it’s about the mood. Our dynamic is going to be off untilat least November.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, no sound in thecar but the radio blaring angry chick music.

“So… what if they go on another date?” Dee eventually asks.She looks like she knows she shouldn’t, even before the words leave her mouth.“Like, what if this is a relationship thing?”

Relationship, that’s so ridiculous. This is all alittle scheme to tick Dennis off or get revenge on him for something he’salready forgotten doing, and it’ll be over by the end of the week. He doesn’twish to wait that long, though, so he’s simply ending it tonight. Besides, heshould be the one seeking retribution. He’s the one who was robbed ofhis periodic dining experience.

“This is all a little song-and-dance for Mac to prove onceagain that he’s heterosexual, or perhaps it’s a plot against me, but what it’scertainly not is a relationship.”

Dee’s eyes drift to the crowded restaurant behind him for a beat, then settle on his face, not quite looking directly at him.

“Then why is he here without you, Dennis?”

Because…

Well, perhaps he didn’t expect Dennis to show up duringdinner, but afterwards, he would have surely brought his “date” back to theapartment and made grand theatrics of it.

“Damn it, Dee, I will get to the bottom of this if it takesall night.”

Dennis unbuckles his seatbelt and throws open his door,stomping out onto the sidewalk.

“Yeah, I’m leaving you in an hour, cockmunch.”

—–

Getting past the hostess is easy enough. Dee nearly attemptsto disguise herself as an employee, but that is an awful idea and an absolutewaste of time, so Dennis simply puts on the charm and insists they’re meetingsome business associates. He keeps his head up high and waltzes pastthe booth into the restaurant before the woman can stop him. It’s all about theconfidence. If you look like you know what you’re doing and where you’resupposed to be, no one is sure enough or cares enough about their job to callyou on it.

He keeps a hand on Dee’s shoulder to guide her around beforeshe ends up donning a fake mustache and sneaking in as a waiter. They have toappear as if they know where they’re going, as if they’re with one of thesegroups, so they can’t wander around too much.

Mac will likely be in a booth. Dennis himself preferstables, and always insists they get one (sketchy diners at two in the morningexcluded), but Mac likes booths because he enjoys kicking his feet up andlounging around like he’s on the damned sofa at home. He is a classless savage.

The place isn’t too big, but it’s crowded- it takes them allof six minutes to track Mac down.

And when they do…

“Oh.”

That’s all Dennis can say.

He softens all at once and his shoulders drop, handsstilling at his sides. All of the fight in him goes limp.

Mac…

Mac is on a date.

With a guy.

“Dennis…” Dee says cautiously, reaching out to place a hand onhis back. She’s tentative with him, not like she’s afraid of him or thinks he’llhave an outburst, but like she’s sure if she talks too loudly or touches himtoo solidly, he’ll shatter like breakaway glass. It’s as if she thinks he’s fragile.“I’m sorry.”

Dennis’ unblinking eyes don’t leave Mac’s table. He can’tlook away from the anxious tension in Mac’s shoulders, the playful grin onhis lips, the way his face lights up when he laughs, the way he inches his handacross the table, the way his foot bounces excitedly against the floor…

It’s like watching a horror movie play out in front of him,but instead of a topless woman getting axed in the spine, he’s powerless tostop Mac from falling victim to happiness.

“For what?” he mumbles softly. He’s not sure the words comeout at all.

“I’m sorry that it’s real.”

Real… Please.

He hardly knows this guy. Sure, they’ve been texting backand forth for a couple of days, but that’s nothing compared to twenty years.It’s nothing deserving of standing Dennis up.

It sinks in that Mac cancelled on him for an actual date,and somehow that’s worse than if he’d paid a sex worker to spend the eveningwith him. It feels like a Shakespearean betrayal and stupid Drewbreaking a spring roll in half and passing Mac the rest is the blade against Dennis’ throat.

He tries feeling nothing and it doesn’t work. He triesrage and it doesn’t quite fit, either. He settles on jealousy and it’s like a glove.

A newfound wave of determination washes over him as heremembers himself and turns to Dee.

“I can still ruin this,” he decides, knowing he can still seduceMac’s date if he has to. Oh, no one has any idea how far he’ll go for revenge.

Dee takes a good, long look at the two of them laughingabout something on a chili sauce bottle like they’ve known each other foryears.

“Okay, but… why?”

Dennis tries to find a reason, but they’re all gone now.Everything he preached earlier on how this was about denial and cowardice andstagecraft… It’s all off the table. He racks his brain for a reason why thisburns at him so hotly, why he still wants to crash this, why he still wants todestroy it for Mac right in front of him, and settles on the inconvenience ofit.

“Because it’s going to be even worse. Mac pretending tosleep with a woman for a couple of nights is one thing, but having arelationship? Bringing a date back to our apartment? Letting him use ourshower? Having to hear about this man, day and night? I will not be a part ofthat, Dee.”

“So, just to clarify, Mac is never allowed to have arelationship as long as he lives with you?”

Dennis nods. “That’s the idea.”

“Sure, that’s fine, that’s healthy. That’s a perfectlynormal way for a grown man to think. Nothing weird about that at all.”

“Just shut up and follow me.”

He starts off towards the table before Dee can protest.Thankfully, she falls into step behind him instead of making a scene andblowing the entire thing.

By the time Mac’s date has noticed him, Dennis is faking awide, friendly grin that he’s certain looks charming, and not at alllike an enraged chimp suppressing its rage.

“What a coincidence!” he exclaims, struggling to maintain hishoney-sweet cadence.

Mac jumps at the sound of his voice as if it were arattlesnake’s hiss. His fight or flight response seems to activate before heeven looks at Dennis- muscles tensing, hands squirming, eyes going wide, breathcatching. When he cranes his neck to meet Dennis’ gaze, he’s making a face likehe’s been caught stealing.

It’s fitting, he supposes. He did steal something. Hestole the pleasure of their monthly dinner right out from under Dennis, stolethe music and the dark liquor and the conversation and the rice noodles andoffered it all up to somebody else, to some absolute stranger. He shouldbe mortified.

“I…” is all that escapes his dumb, floundering mouth.

Dennis takes the liberty of explaining for Drew’s sake.

“My sister and I just happened to be having dinner with somefriends,” -he gestures to no table in particular- “and who do we see?” Claspinghis hands together, he turns to Mac with less of a smile than a warning snarl.“Won’t you introduce us, Mac?’

“This is…” -Mac clears his throat, eyes darting between thethree of them, looking for a way out but finding none- “my date.”

“Drew,”’ the man says, clearly confused but holding out hishand regardless.

Dennis takes it and squeezes tight as he shakes, really putshis shoulder into it. A handshake says a lot about a man, a lot about histrustworthiness and virility and how much power he can generate, and Dennis hassomething to prove.

He doesn’t see what all the fuss has been about, these past fewdays. The guy is nothing to text home about. Sure, he’s passable, perhaps evenconventionally attractive, but his smile is too gummy, his jawline is toodefined, his toned arms are all deltoid and no bicep, and what is he wearing? Acheckered shirt? In a Thai restaurant? Any self-respecting man would know thepatterns clash.

“Dennis Reynolds. I own the bar Mac works at, which surely,he’s told you much about.” He rests a hand on Mac’s shoulder, who startles athis touch. “I also own our apartment. And our bank account. And our car. But…”-he chuckles, humorless, and it immediately fades into a straight stare-“mostly the bar.”

“He’s my… roommate,” Mac mumbles sheepishly.

Drew squints at him for a second, then pointsin Dee’s direction. “And you are?”

“Hungry,” she jokes, snorting in laughter at herself,and Dennis boils a little inside. Before he can say anything else, her talonsare in his arm, spinning him in the opposite direction. “We should be gettingback to our meal. You guys enjoy your date, or whatever people say.”

Dennis tries to stand his ground, but Dee’s fingernails inhis flesh are so painful that it takes all of his strength to keep from screaming.She drags him into an empty booth before he can stop her.

“What the hell?” he whispers through gritted teeth. “Whatare you doing, Dee?’

“You’re being a real dick wart, Dennis,” she chastises him.“Look, I know you want to throw your little trust fund fuckboy alpha maletantrum, but you’re freaking Mac out. I mean, look at him.”

Dee gestures towards Mac, who is still watching them acrossthe restaurant, eyes like a deer in the headlights, as his date talks to theside of his head.

“Besides, I thought you were gonna do the cucking thing. Youwere acting like Mac’s husband or some shit.”

“I was not,” Dennis insists and cups his handstogether. “I told no lies. I was simply emasculating Mac in front of his date.I mean, who wants to have dinner with a man who can’t drive himself or controlhis own finances?’

Dee narrows her eyes and rolls her teeth over her lip,analyzing him like she’s not sure he’s serious.

“Um, you?”

“Wh-” He scoffs in disbelief. How incredulous of her, thoseare two completely different types of dinners. “I am not-”

Before he can say something for himself, a waitress is atthe end of their table. She looks perplexed, presumably wondering why theyhaven’t been served yet, but retains the smile on her face.

“Do you guys need anything to drink, or…?”

“Can you not see that we’re having a conversation?!” Dennissnaps.

“Yeah, bitch, we’ll get drinks when we’re good and ready!”Dee backs him up.

The waitress rolls her eyes and walks away.

“I mean, it’s fucking rude.”

“Completely unacceptable.”

“She saw us talkingand she just waltzed right up like she was part of it!”

“I’m sorry, Dee, I had no idea the service here was soterrible.”

Dee frowns and glances at the kitchen door the womandisappeared behind.

“I kinda do want a drink, though,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m pretty thirsty…”

It’s quiet for a minute. There are forks scraping and platesclattering and incessant, mindless chatter all around them, but it’s quiet attheir table. Dee picks at the finishing on the glass with her fingernail,peeling it off. Dennis watches the pieces flick onto the floor and wonders whathe’s going to do if this is a long-term situation, if he has to live inproximity to this weak-handshaked stranger all the time, has to tolerate himday in and day out. The thought of having someone digging through he and Mac’sfridge, using their bathroom, taking up space on their couch… it’s annoying.

The thought of that person sharing a bed with Mac, eatingout of the same bowl of popcorn as him, wrapping a hand thoughtlessly aroundhis waist in the kitchen while he makes coffee, kissing him on the cheek asthey cuddle under a blanket…

Annoying isn’t the right word for the way those things feel.They don’t sting at his nerves and tense his muscles like annoying things do.Instead, the mental image sits at the pit of Dennis’ stomach with everythingelse he’s buried over the course of his life. It’s a different animal entirely.It’s…

He doesn’t know why, but it feels like losing a sure handhe’s bet all his chips on.

“You want me to take you home?”

Dennis observes Mac, who still looks nervous, but has fallenback into the swing of his conversation.

“No,” he mumbles.

Dee lets out a short, resigned sigh.

“You want to be fuck up his date?” she offers.

Drew (stupid name for a guy, by the way, just commit to thefull Andrew) rests a hand on Mac’s arm and Dennis’ stomach collapses intoitself like a house of cards.

“Thought you were doing the high road thing,” he answers, “youknow, like a superior bitch.”

She huffs through her nose like a bull, but the loud, enragedresponse never comes. Instead, her voice is gentle, as if breathing on ahair trigger.

“I didn’t realize what this was about,” she says.

Dennis raises and eyebrow and turns back to her, slowlytrying to process what the hell she’s referring to. He can’t figure it out, andhe can’t think of a way to twist it into an insult, either, so he just stares.

“Don’t look at me like that, you skid mark,” Dee spits,sounding a little more like herself. “I’m not having this fight with you again.Look, here’s what you do…”

—–

Ding ding ding ding!

Dennis taps a knife against a wine glass, both of which he’sswiped from an unobservant old couple, and the tinny sound echoes through therestaurant until everyone in the room falls silent.

Mac is looking at him like he’s got a bomb strapped to hischest. The fear and embarrassment in his eyes is almost humiliating enough torectify this entire situation- almost, but not enough.

He clears his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m standing here tonight because… Imade a mistake. And I want to fix it.”

Dennis smiles at Mac, who gawks nervously at him. He putsthe sweetest, sappiest, cheesiest look on his face that he can muster, justknowing everyone in the room is going to fall for it immediately. He’s got a knackfor manipulating people.

“Mac, baby…”

Mac’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair.

“I know I told you I wanted to see other people, but… I’verealized something, in the last three days. I only want to see you- forthe rest of my life.”

He earns a couple of aww’s and affectionate hums fromthe restaurant patrons. Stupid, stupid, stupid people. They don’t even know himand they’re already convinced he’s in love with Mac. He’s a much better actorthan Dee is, and he would shove that in her face, if she hadn’t been the one tocome up with this plan.

“Look, I know I messed up, but… I’m not afraid anymore, Mac.I know how I feel. And I know you came here with Chad, and I know what you’regonna say, and I know I don’t have a ring…”

Mac’s got his face in his hand, and Drew looks absolutely appalled.No matter what he answers, no matter how this plays out, this date isdefinitely destroyed.

“But I’d marry you with this.”

Dennis snatches a ring-shaped onion slice from a woman’s salad,and she simply sits there and lets him, because she’s that enthralledwith his speech. He makes sure to grind it good and hard between his fingersbefore setting it back down- he’s going to need that.

“Because none of that matters.” He pretends to take amoment, burying his face in his hand and digging his oniony fingers into hiseyes. When he feels them start to tingle, feels a tear drip down his cheek, helowers his hand and sniffles. “What matters is you, man.”

A few more aww’s are whispered, and Dennis feelsquite pleased with his exceptional performance.

“Jesus Christ, Dennis.” Mac turns back to his dateand reaches out for him. “This isn’t-”

“No, you know what? Go ahead.” Drew scoots his chair backand stands to his feet, tossing the napkin from his lap onto the table. “I sawthe way you two looked at each other.”

Clearly, that statement has no basis in fact, but it worksto Dennis’ advantage, so he’ll take it. Before Mac can even stammer out a syllable, his date has abscondedand stormed out of the restaurant.

“Dennis-”

“Mac, listen…”

Dennis crouches down in front of him and takes his hands,all of the tears in his voice gone as he whispers to him.

“They’re going to give us free dessert.”

Mac stops glaring daggers at him, and the tension in hismuscles relaxes. His hands go limp under Dennis’ as he scans him over,observing the streaks of foundation he no doubt has on his cheeks.

“Fine, asshole,” he answers loudly enough for the entiredead-silent restaurant to hear.

A few scattered people begin slow clapping, unsure as towhether or not that’s a positive response. Dennis makes quick work of slickinghis thumb across his eyes and eliciting a few more crocodile tears.

“He said yes!”

The restaurant erupts in applause as Mac shoots him a deathstare so hard he might pop a blood vessel.

—–

“There’s too much coconut.”

“That’s the entire purpose of the cake, Mac. Do you claimthere’s too much chocolate in a brownie, as well?”

“I’m just saying, it’s like suntan lotion.”

Mac swallows and sets his fork down, gaze focused on thetable. He leans onto it and rests his chin in his hand.

Before Dennis can suggest they get a tub of ice cream fromthe store instead, Mac mumbles into his palm.

“I know you’re uncomfortable.”

Dennis is thrown off guard by that.

“Well, I suppose the chair could use a cushion, but otherthan that-”

“No,” he grumbles. “About the date.”

Dennis? Uncomfortable? Over something so banal as Mac datinga guy? To accuse him of that, when he has always been perfectlytolerant, and Mac has been the one pointing fingers and throwing stonesin glass houses and proclaiming his condemnation of gay relationships from the steeples-it’s downright rude.

“I am not-”

“I can tell, dude!” Mac yells, finally sitting up andlooking Dennis in the eyes like a man. “You were uncomfortable earlier and you’reuncomfortable right now.”

Right now? He is merely trying to eat his free pandan cakein peace!

“Mac, I’ve always known you’re-”

“I’m not- I was just- I was trying something outand…” He gives up on whatever moronic protest he was going to attempt and,instead, lets his head fall face-first onto the table. A childish groan bubblesup from his throat. “Why did you follow me here?”

Dennis lets out a long breath and prepares himselfto say what he’s about to say.

“Look, Mac…”

Mac’s still got his head down, but he’s adjusted hisposition to gaze up at Dennis. This would actually probably be easier if heweren’t, though.

“When you cancelled our monthly dinner, I felt like Iwasn’t-”

“Are you done yet?”

Dee’s standing at the end of their table expectantly, tappingher foot and slugging down the last of a beer. “You better be in the car in thenext five minutes or you two shit socks are walking home.”

He glances to Mac and mumbles, “She smells like asock…”

For a second, Mac smiles and snort-laughs, until heremembers he’s supposed to be upset and his face falls again.

Dee’s freakishly strong hands slam the empty bottle down,with enough pressure to put a crack in the tabletop. “You know what? Fine. I’mleaving. You two deserve each other.”

Before she gets even five steps away, Mac shouts after her.

“Yeah, go listen to your stupid music in your dumb car!”

Dennis chuckles under his breath. “Her music isstupid.”

He reminds himself to thank her later, nonetheless. She canbe a half-decent sister on occasion. Sure, he owes her an apartment cleaning inexchange for the engagement idea, but still- nice of her to accompany himtonight.

“Sorry, Dennis, what were you gonna say?”

When you cancelled our monthly dinner, I felt like Iwasn’t as important to you as your date. I felt like you threw away years oftradition for some fool you barely knew. You’ve been on your phone all the timeand movies aren’t as fun without your commentary. You’re my best friend and Ihad to share you and it really sucked. And we don’t have to talk about the gaything if you don’t want to, but if you do, we’ll go get some ice cream and we’lltalk about it.

Dennis chooses to shorten it.

“You want to go get ice cream?”

Mac shrugs and agrees to the idea, on the condition thatthere’s no coconut involved.

The walk home isn’t too long, even with the trip to theconvenience store. They don’t talk much, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Sure, theycan chat for hours if left to their own devices, but when it’s just the two ofthem… it’s perfectly comfortable to say nothing, too.

Mac wraps his coat around Dennis’ shoulders when it getscold.  He buries his hands in thepockets, where an energy bar rustles around in there. He knew Mac would never reallytake a chance on a new restaurant- the guy likes to play it safe.

He reminds himself that this is all for the best, for Mac.He needs Dennis. He relies on him for guidance and money andtransportation (present situation excluded) and basically everything in hislife. It’s good that he didn’t end up putting that pressure on somebody else.It’s good that nobody else is going to watch TV on their couch and eat straightout of their ice cream tub and dangle their legs over Mac’s lap. That wouldhave been annoying.

Yeah, Dennis reassures himself as he watches Maccarry the grocery bags and makes himself comfortable in his jacket, Macneeds him.

[ineffably-effable]

Come up and see me (make me smile)

The Garden of Eden, 4004 BC

Summary: Aziraphale isn’t what Crowley expected. Words: 1231 Notes: This is my spin on a role-reversal AU (inspired by this gorgeous art from @dotstronaut).

It’s my first time writing in a very long time, so the anxiety is strong.

Big Thanks (HUGE) to @mia-ugly for being an excellent and supportive beta reader. 

Title is taken from Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) by Steve Harley & The Cockney Rebel.  A song I’m convinced is on Crowley’s playlist.

Continued here

(read on ao3)

Crowley found the culprit on the eastern gate, sitting hunched over, with his knees hugged to his chest. He was watching the exiled humans with an expression of regret clouding his face. His wings were slumped off his shoulders, grey feathers spread askew on the ground. The dejected countenance sparked curiosity in Crowley. He moved to sit down next to the demon, dangling his legs off the edge of the wall and carefully spreading his wings out behind them.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” Crowley said amiably.

The demon startled. 

“I’m sorry?”

(His eyes were owlish, bright yellow - almost gold, really, Crowley thought - with jet-black pupils. Captivating.)

“I said, that went down like a lead balloon.” 

“Oh,” the demon looked back at the humans, wincing, “yes, it did rather.”

“Still, I guess it’s a victory for your side eh? Quite cunning of you…” he trailed off.

“Aziraphale.” the demon supplied, still very much preoccupied with watching after the humans. 

“Right, Aziraphale…” That name’s a mouthful. “ You must have been planning it for ages,” he drawled, “whispering in her ear, and laying the foundation to lead her astray…” he paused, leaving room for a response. When none was forthcoming he continued, “You must be very proud of yourself”. 

If Crowley sounded more inquisitive than disapproving, it was only because the demon was acting so strangely.  He looked miserable and shame-faced - which was good, wasn’t it? He should feel ashamed - Crowely had liked the humans, and now, well, God only knows what would happen to them.

It was just- well- weren’t demons meant to revel in their evil deeds?

He said as much to his companion who pursed his lips and glanced fleetingly at Crowley, seemingly unsure as to whether he was being mocked.

“I er- didn’t know it was forbidden” he mumbled.

“You what?!”

“I didn’t know it was forbidden!” he cried out, anguished. “It’s not like your lot keeps us in the loop about these things. I was told ‘Get Up There And Make Some Trouble’ but she was so kind, and curious, and she was struggling to reach the brightest one, and- oh- it looked harmless enough, so I grabbed it for her.” He fidgeted with the fabric of his robes. “You would think they would put a sign up if it were that terrible.”

Crowley stared. The creature in front of him was unlike any demon he’d ever heard of. The fallen were supposed to be wicked and foul fiends - but this one was something else. He looked so genuinely distressed by what had happened - More distressed than Gabriel or Michael by a long shot - that Crowley couldn’t help but believe him. As ridiculous as it was, Crowley felt an urge to comfort him. He cleared his throat. 

“If I’m honest… I can’t see what’s so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway. I know it must be bad for them to be kicked out like that…”

“Obviously,” the demon said morosely.

“… but it must also be part of The Great Plan, and that, well, it’s ineffable isn’t it?”

Aziraphale blinked.

“Ineffable?” 

“That’s right, and you can’t go around second guessing ineffability,” he said with a grin, feeling like he had finally landed on a convincing argument. 

The demon smiled wistfully. “No, you definitely can’t do that.” There was a sadness to his tone that made Crowley feel like an utter fool. What a thing to say.

He was about to apologize when he was interrupted by a loud roar in the distance - beside him Aziraphale flinched violently. “Oh, I wish they had something to protect themselves, there’s vicious animals about and it’s going to be so cold out there.” 

Crowley gazed up at the brewing storm clouds, and then down at the lion approaching the couple. He had to concede the demon had a point.

He flexed his hand and felt the comforting weight of his sword. With a thought he ignited it. 

Aziraphale gave him a nervous look, and shifted away slightly. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Oh for heaven’s sake. I’m hardly going to smite you in the middle of a conversation. I just- ”  he clicked his fingers in a sweeping, downwards motion. The sword disappeared from his hand, and reappeared in Adam’s. The mortal looked surprised (as one might reasonably be if you were to find a useful object in your hands when you least expected it)  but wasted no time in dispatching the beast. 

Aziraphale stared at Crowley, mouth agape.

“Are you quite sure you’re allowed to just give that away?”

Not at all, Crowley thought. He shrugged. “Too late to worry about it now.”

Aziraphale gave him a slightly impressed, slightly baffled look.

“I suppose, as an angel, you can’t technically do the wrong thing.” he sounded uncertain.

Crowley smirked back at him, leaning across to nudge him with his shoulder.

“Be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the bad thing, and you did the good one?”

Aziraphale’s lips twitched, but then he grimaced. 

“A demon can get in an awful lot of trouble for doing the right thing.” 

Crowley clucked his tongue in agreement, an unexpected pang of worry hitting him. He suspected Aziraphale was not a particularly good demon, and the thought of him getting into trouble was surprisingly upsetting.

Without further warning, the clouds that had been looming ominously overhead delivered a downpour. Crowley pulled a face, bristling slightly as the first cold drops hit him. Next to him Aziraphale shuffled closer, shaking his head a little to jostle water-logged black and grey curls off his forehead. With an upwards gesture and a click of his fingers, the two of them were dry and the rain directly above their heads decided it had better places to fall. He gave Crowley a timid, dimpled smile. Crowley smiled back. 

Together they watched the humans into the night,  making wry observations as they experimented with cooking their first meal (the demon had whooped adorably when Eve - frustrated - had snatched the sword from Adam and used it to sear the meat, “Clever thing, isn’t she?” he had beamed proudly).

Once the humans fell asleep, an awkward silence descended between the two of them. 

“I should probably be off.“ Aziraphale commented, without making any sign of moving. "Will you remain assigned here, do you think?”  Crowley smiled.

“I should think so, most of the other angels consider this-” (he waved a hand to indicate the garden, earth, humanity)   “- beneath them.” Aziraphale nodded.

“It’s the same with downstairs. They’re thrilled to bits about the plethora of opportunities to torture humans, but being up here is considered a bit gauche.” He shrugged. “After I take credit for this mess I’d be surprised if they bothered to recall me.”

“So I guess I’ll be seeing you around then?” Crowley tried to affect a nonchalant tone but - judging from the sidelong look he was receiving (and the very soft, hopeful smile accompanying it) - he hadn’t been very successful.

“I should think so, my dear.”  

Crowley found himself hard-pressed not to grin.

It wasn’t because he was glad the demon would be sticking around - he wasn’t -  or that he was grateful this new fledged camaraderie might remain - he didn’t need it - it was just that Crowley hated being bored . If nothing else, the next few millennia would certainly be interesting.

Continued here

[bamby0304]

The Hart III- Secrets

Chapter Twelve- Or Treat

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warnings: Angst. Violence.

Bamby

EPOV

"Excuse me?" I spoke up for the first time, looking to each angel. "So, what? Just because of this seal, this thing you might not be able to deal with in time... you decided to kill off everyone in the town?"

"We're out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved," Castiel told us simply, as if that justified their plan, justified everything they've ever done.

"There are a thousand people here," Sam argued.

"One thousand, two hundred, fourteen," Uriel corrected, but the number seemed to have no effect on him what so ever.

Looking over at him, Sam frowned, confused- and if I wasn't mistaken... disappointed. "And you're willing to kill them all?"

"This isn't the first time I've… purified a city," Uriel told him matter-of-factly.

"Look, I understand this is regrettable," Castiel started, only to be cut off sharply by Dean.

"Regrettable?"

"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."

"So, you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?"

"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion," Castiel countered, not seeing how this might upset us. "There's a bigger picture here."

Dean shook his head, looking to both angels. "Right, cause you're 'bigger picture' kind of guys."

Castiel took a step closer to Dean, a sense of power radiating off him as he spoke. "Lucifer cannot rise. He does and hell rises with him. Is that something that you're willing to risk?"

The thing is, it didn't matter what Castiel, Uriel or any angel did or said. Sam, Dean and I... we cared about everyone. Including the one thousand two hundred and fourteen people in this town at this very moment. Their lives were worth just as much as anyone else's.

"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone. Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die," Sam assured them, trying to convince them that their plan was not the only way to go.

Patience running on long, Uriel turned to Castiel. "We're wasting time with these mud monkeys."

"I'm sorry, but we have our orders," Castiel noted... though I couldn't help but noticed the fact that he'd directed the words to Uriel, and not to us...

Sam shook his head, still adamant about saving the town and its people. "No, you can't do this, you're angels, I mean aren't you supposed to- You're supposed to show mercy."

Uriel scoffed. "Says who?"

"We have no choice," Castiel added. It occurred to me then that he might not want to do this, he just had to. It was his job to do what he was told and not ask questions. He was a solider, not a saviour.

"Of course you have a choice." Dean didn't seem to see what I could. He just saw two emotionless angels who didn't care what happened to any of us humans. "I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?"

"Look, even if you can't understand it, have faith. The plan is just."

"How can you even say that?" Sam asked him.

"Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just."

"Oh, it must be nice, to be so sure of yourselves." The look Dean gave Castiel as he spoke, it was on the edge of pure hate and anger. He did not like the angels.

Stepping up at Dean once more, Castiel surprised me with what he said next, "Tell me something, Dean, when your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?"

It took a moment before Dean answered. He stood there, looking at Castiel, trying not to react as he thought it all over. When he finally did speak, there was no changing his mind, "Well sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed."

"You think you can stop us?" Uriel looked both amused and annoyed. As if we were children trying to do things on our own, but messing everything up as we went along.

Dean turned to the other angel, standing his ground. "No." He stepped over to Uriel. "But if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that."

"I will drag you out of here myself," Uriel warned.

"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me, then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." Dean turned back to Castiel. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."

Standing there, looking at Dean, Castiel thought it over. That in itself was a big feat

"Castiel! I will not let these-"

Before Uriel could finish, Castiel raised his hand to cut him off. "Enough!" he ordered, stilling looking to Dean. "I suggest you move quickly," was all he had to say.

...

As we left the hotel room- both Uriel and Castiel now gone- Sam, Dean and I walked over to Baby... the hood now covered in smashed eggs.

I shook my head, stepping up to the hood. "You've got to be kidding me."

Sam didn't even stop, simply moved to the passenger seat and got in. But Dean? He was clearly pissed, and I had a feeling the angels weren't helping the situation. The fact it was his baby that had been hit was the worst of it. He loved this car more than anything, it was practically the brothers' home.

Looking around for the culprit, Dean yelled, "Astronaut!"

Sighing, I walked over to rest a hand on his arm in the hopes of calming him a little. "Come on. We don't have much time left, and we need to find this witch."

Taking a deep breath, he gave a short nod and followed me as we got into the car- him in the front and me in the middle of the back seat. Once we were in, he turned to Sam who was looking down at the hex bag that had been meant for us. I couldn't help but noticed the fact the younger Winchester seemed a little upset.

"What?" Dean asked him.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing." He took a breath, smiling lightly even though we all knew he wasn't amused. "I thought they'd be different."

Dean looked at him confused. "Who, the angels?"

"Yeah," Sam answered simply.

It had been the first time Sam had met the angels, but Dean and I had encountered Castiel on more than one occasion now. Each time I met the angel he was as emotionless and robot like as every other time. There was nothing there. Like he was a perfectly made machine that did as it was told and felt nothing. All he saw was the mission. All he thought about was how to please the people- or beings- above him. There was nothing there. Just a soldier ready to be put to work.

I can understand why Sam might be disappointed. I remembered the case we were on a few years back, when we thought we were dealing with an angel when it had really been the spirit of a priest who had been killed and was trying the write the wrongs of his community. Sam had confessed that he prayed, and that he wanted to believe. That he did believe.

As some stage, I had too. Growing up, after my father had died, my mum had turned to religion. She'd practically dived head first into it. Church and prayers were cemented into my upbringing, and there was honestly nothing wrong with that. It didn't do me any harm.

But at some point in my life, I think I just gave up. In believing in the good. Now that I'd met some angels, I didn't regret my decision. Sure, they might be real. But were they good?

"Well, I tried to tell ya," Dean noted. He had tried to tell Sam. But his brother had been hopeful that he was wrong.

"I just..." shaking his head, Sam looked down at the hex bag in his hand, "I mean, I thought they'd be righteous."

"Well," Dean shrugged, "they are righteous. I mean, that's kinda the problem." When Sam looked to him, he explained what he meant, "Of course there's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission."

"But, I mean, this is God? And Heaven? This is what I've been praying to?" Sam sounded utterly disappointed.

"Look man, I know you're into the whole God thing, you know, Jesus on a tortilla and stuff like that. But just because there's a couple of bad apples doesn't mean the whole barrel's rotten. I mean, for all we know, God hates these jerks. Don't give up on this stuff, is all I'm saying. Babe Ruth was a dick but baseball's still a beautiful game."

I reached over and gave Dean a pat on the shoulder. "Such beautiful words."

Dean rolled his eyes, starting the ignition. "Shut up," he mumbled.

Sam chuckled lightly, looking back down at the hex bag to open it up and fiddle with the bone that had sat inside it and was now between his two fingers.

Putting the car in reverse, Dean turned to his brother for a moment. "Well, are you gonna figure out a way to find this witch, or are you just gonna sit there fingering your bone?"

"You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this, Dean?"

"No."

Something in me clicked at Sam's question. It was like I'd just figured something out, but I just didn't know what that was exactly.

Frowning, I leaned closer to grab the bone from Sam to get a better look. "No oven could do this. The heat would have to be extreme."

"Exactly." Sam nodded.

Dean looked between the two of us. "Okay, Betty Crocker one and two, so what does that mean?"

Sam grabbed the bone from me again as he turned to his brother once more. "It means we make a stop."

DPOV

Back at the high school and in the art room, I walked over to one of the kilns while Liz and Sam headed over to Don's desk. The two seemed to have an idea of what the hell was going on, while I was still wondering why we were here exactly.

"So, Tracy used the kiln to char the bone, what's the big deal?" I asked, looking inside the kiln before moving over to join them at the desk.

The two of them while rifling through the desk drawers, but it was Sam who answered. "Dean, that hex bag turned up in our room, not after we talked to Tracy-"

I cut him off, nodding now that I understood. "After we talked to the teacher."

"Hey." Sam gestured to a locked drawer.

"I got it." Liz only had to look at the lock before it unlocked.

She's getting stronger...

Opening the drawer, Sam paused the moment we all looked down at the bowl of bones sitting there. One of them were charred while the others weren't, but they were all small. Just like the ones from the hex bags.

"My God." Sam stood up. "Those are all from children."

I sighed, looking down at them. "And I'm guessing he's not saving them for the dog."

EPOV

Dean, Sam and I lifted our guns and shot at Don right before he had the chance to stab Tracy. We'd found the two in Don's basement. He was chanting an incantation while Tracy struggled against the binds around the wrist as they kept her on her feet and unable to escape. The gag on her mouth had stopped her from calling out for help. Luckily, we'd made it in time to keep Don from finishing the ritual, and killing her.

I guess we were wrong... Tracy isn't the witch. I thought as I put my gun away.

Dean- his gun now away as well- moved to cut the rope tied around her wrists, setting her free. Sam checked Don to make sure he really was dead, while I moved over to take a look at the ritual table. I didn't touch anything- I wasn't sure what it might do- I simple looked.

Tracy ripped the gag off. "Thank you, he was gonna kill me! Ugh, that sick son of a bitch." She looked down at Don. "I mean, did you see what he was doing? Did you hear him? How sloppy his incantation was?" I froze, turning to her. "My brother-"

Dean, Sam and I all reacted at once. The brothers moving for their guns while I went to throw Tracy across the room.

Unfortunately, she was powerful. With a few quick witchy words and a wave of her hand, she had the brothers flying back and hitting the ground hard. This was all done in the mere seconds it took before I had her shoved to the ground as well.

Looking up at me, stunned, a small smirk played on her lips as she pulled herself back to her feet. "Well, look what we have here."

She must have seen that I was about to do something else to her, because before I could actually do it, I found myself been thrown to the floor by the brothers, face down, the strength of the hold keeping me there almost enough to crush my spine.

The brother's struggled and groaned, both of them watching me with worried and protective eyes.

DPOV

Sam and I couldn't move. Well, we could barely move. We could wriggle and struggle, but that was it. But we both wanted to move. Not only to kill this witch, but to help Liz. I knew she still had a lot of fight in her, but with the hold Tracy had on her... there was nothing Liz could do at this stage. She was as helpless and stuck as both Sam and I.

"Silly girl." Tracy shook her head, looking down at Liz as if she was simply annoying. Sighing, she turned to Don. "Now, you." She glared at his body. "He was gonna make me the final sacrifice," she told us. "His idea. But now, that honour goes to him. Our master's return? The spell-work's a two-man job you understand, so for six hundred years I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch.

"Planning, preparing, unbearable." She knelt down, grabbing the chalice and knife he'd dropped, while Sam and I continued to groan in pain as she held up down. "The whole time I wanted to rip his face off." Digging into the bullet wound in Don's chest so the blood would pour into the chalice, she chuckled lightly. "And you get him with a gun, uh, love that." Standing, she moved over to the altar table. "You know, back in the day, this was the one day you kept your children inside. Well tonight you'll all see what Halloween really is."

She began to chant something in what I guessed was Latin, but my attention wasn't on her. Instead I watched as Sam fought against her hold enough so that he could reach his hand over to the blood pooling under Don, and then wipe the blood on his face.

"What are you doing?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"Just follow my lead," Sam muttered as he reached over to Liz and spread the blood on her face- seeing that the hold on her was stronger and she couldn't reach the blood.

Taking a deep breath, I did as Sam suggested and reached for the blood as well, rubbing it on my face so it was covered just like his and Liz's.

Just then, Tracy finished the incantation.

The ground began to shake and crack as thick black smoke emerged for the damaged concrete. It flew into the air and then dived into Don's mouth as if knowing exactly where it belonged.

As Don- who I guess was now Samhain- rose, I noticed that Sam and Liz had closed their eyes as if they were playing dead. Once again, I followed Sam's lead, hoping that this plan of his was actually gone to keep us alive.

There was a moment before Tracy spoke. "My love."

"You've aged." Don's voice had changed slightly, now that Samhain had taken over his body. It was deeper. Darker.

"This face… I can't fool you."

"Your beauty is beyond time." Once again, there was a silence before I heard the indistinctive sound of something snapping and then a body dropping to the floor. In that instant, the hold on me broke. Samhain had just killed Tracy. "Whore."

Listening, I waited into I heard him go up the stairs and close the door behind him before I opened my eyes to check that he really was gone. Once I was sure he was gone, and wouldn't be back, I reached over to check Liz.

"You okay?" I asked her as I helped sit her up.

Groaning, she rubbed at her head which had hit the ground pretty hard. "Fine."

Looking over at Sam as he moved to sit as well, I asked, "What the hell was that?"

"Halloween lore. People used to wear masks to hide from him." He shrugged. "So I gave it a shot."

"You gave it a shot?!"

EPOV

Dean was being his usual over protective self as we walked to Baby. He was right beside me, a gentle hand on my back as if he thought I was going to fall unconscious right then and there. Sure, I'd hit the ground a lot harder than then, and sure Tracy's hold on my had been stronger than her hold on them. But I was fine...

Just in case, I pulled out my pills and took two, hoping they would help.

"Where the hell are we gonna find this mook?" Dean asked Sam as his hand that wasn't pressed to my back used a rug to clean the blood off his face.

Sam had a rag of his own to clean the blood of his face as he responded. "Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?"

"The cemetery," Dean answered as we reached the car. He opened the door for me and made sure I was in before he got into his own seat and started the engine, driving down the street as fast as he could while still being safe so he wouldn't hit any trick-or-treaters.

SPOV

"So, this demon's pretty powerful," I noted as Dean continued down the road and towards the cemetery.

He gave a short now. "Yeah."

"Might take more than the usual weapons." I glanced over at him, wondering if he understood what I was hinting at... he did.

"Sam, no, you're not using your psychic whatever. Don't even think about it. Ruby's knife is enough."

"Why?"

"Well because the angels said so for one-"

I cut him off, "I thought you said they were a bunch of fanatics."

"Well they happen to be right about this one," he argued, sounding like a complete hypocrite.

"Dean," Lizzie sighed from the back seat. "Sam may have a point. If things get bad... we might need-"

"No," Dean cut her off sharply as he turned to me. "You said yourself, these powers, it's like playing with fire." Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the demon knife. "Please."

Without a word, I took the knife, knowing there was no way I could change his mind.

DPOV

We heard the screams and what sounded like a metal door rattling, before we'd even entered the crypt. Rushing down the stairs, we found a bunch of teenaged kids dressed up for Halloween, completely freaked and locked on the other side of some locked metal doors.

As we reached the bottom stair, Sam turned to me. "Help them."

I could see it in his eyes, he was going to go find Samhain. "Dude, you're not going off alone."

But there was nothing I could do to stop him. "Do it!" he yelled before he ran off.

I watched him for a moment until Liz pulled my attention back to the kids as they continued to freak out.

"Dean! Come on!"

Hating the fact that my brother was on his own, dealing with one of the strongest demons we'd ever come across, I took a deep breath and turned my attention to the task at hand knowing it was the right thing to do.

"Stand back!" I warned, pulling out my gun. "Stand back!" The kids did as I said, allowing me to shoot at the locks.

The moment the doors flung open, Liz ushered the kids out, making sure they got to safety as I entered the space they were in, seeing the graves in the walls shake as the fronts of them dropped off, opening them.

Liz rushed back in, only to come to a halt as a zombie crawled out of one of the graves. Suddenly a grave on the other side of the room cracked and crumbled, opening up for another zombie to crawl out.

"Dean..."

Dropping my bag on the ground, I looked over at my shoulder to Liz for the briefest moment. "Back to back."

Nodding, she came over to stand behind me, reaching into my bag to pull out two silver stakes quickly. Once she handed one to me, we both turned to a wall each, getting ready as a few more zombies crawled out.

I tightened my grip on the stake. "Bring it on, stinky."

SPOV

I was deeper in the crypt now, looking for Samhain. I was sure Dean and Lizzie had everything sorted back there. I knew they didn't need me right now, not when there were more pressing things to deal with. Like the demon bring Hell to this town.

Walking down the corridor a little more, I found him tucked away in a room, facing the far wall. I tried sneaking up to him, but he suddenly turned around, lifting his hand to shoot me with the same bright white light Lilith tried on Lizzie and I.

Now in the room, I came to a stop. "Yeah, that demon ray gun stuff? It doesn't work on me."

Pissed, Samhain ran towards me. Before he could do anything, I managed to get the upper hand by making the first move by punching his right in the face. That's all it took before a fight broke out, the two of us throwing hits at each other... until he managed to push me to the wall and wrap his hand around my throat.

EPOV

Dean and I had managed to take down a few zombies now. But right when we thought we could take a breather, a ghost showed up... and boy was she strong. She'd managed to throw both of us across the room before we'd barely had a chance to register her presence. Then, she was gone again.

"Zombie-ghost orgy huh? Well, that's it, I'm torching everybody," Dean muttered as he got to his feet.

But see, the fact ghosts were showing up now told me one thing. Samhain was still alive. That was not good. That meant Sam hadn't dealt with him yet. It wasn't that I didn't have faith in him, but I was beginning to worry.

"You take care of these guys. I'm gonna go help Sam." Without giving Dean the chance to argue or stop me, I rushed out of the room.

SPOV

I'd managed to pull the demon knife out of my jacket. As I went to stab him though, Samhain blocked me with his arm. The blade was pretty close to touching his skin, which then glowed as if sensing the danger.

Snarling, Samhain shoved at my arm roughly, in order to knock the weapon from my grasp. I was now helpless.

There was still some hope, but the chances of me getting out of this on my own, without my powers... with those chances were pretty much non-existent now. I knew Dean and the angels didn't want me to use them, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and seeing as there was no other way for me to get out of this...

"Sam!"

Lizzie caught both Samhain and I off guard as she lifted her hand and tossed him away from me.

I fell back to my feet, taking a deep breath, taking a small moment to recover as Lizzie came to stand beside me. The second I stood straight again and saw Samhain standing in the corner a few feet from us, ready to attack, I knew what I had to do. Not only to save the town, but to save myself and Lizzie.

Lifting my hand, I began to concentrate on him, on pulling the demon out of the body.

He resisted. He struggled and fought, and actually started to slowly and eventually move towards us, still desperately wanting to rip both Lizzie and I apart. Try as I might, I couldn't seem to hold him back and draw him out.

My head began to feel like it was ready to explode. I felt the familiar dripping of blood coming out of my nose as I struggled and fought as best as I could to destroy this demon.

That's when I felt her hand slide into mine.

In that moment, I hadn't had the chance to be surprised or grateful, but for a second I was both, seeing Lizzie raise her own hand as she helped me pull Samhain from Don's body.

It still took a moment, seeing as he was strong and this was the first time she'd done this- that i knew of at least. But sure enough, we managed to pull him out of the vessel, before we finished the job and sent him straight back to hell.

The moment the smoke disappeared into the ground, and we relax, Lizzie goes slack beside me, almost falling to the ground in a pile. I reacted quickly, wrapping an arm around her to make sure she stayed on her feet.

She'd been about to say something when she froze, her eyes on her left, focussing on the entrance to the room... right where Dean stood watching us.

...

After dealing with Samhain last night, none of us had said a single word. None of us even looked at each other. We'd simply come back to the hotel. I guess it had all been too much, because Lizzie had left early this morning. While Dean had been out at a bar or something, and I'd been in the bathroom, she'd packed her things and left... without writing a note this time.

Dean had asked where she was, clearly worried about her even after what he'd watched both her and I do. But I had no answer, and she wasn't responding to any of our calls or messages. I was actually beginning to wonder if she'd come back this time...

Standing by my bed, I packed up my things, ready to get out of here. There was tension between Dean and me, but not enough to change things. The job was done and it was time for us to move on to the next.

"Tomorrow."

I jumped at the sound of a voice. Turning around, I found Uriel sitting on the couch.

"November second, it's an anniversary for you, right?"

"What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering my question, he went on. "It's the day Azazel killed your mother, and twenty-two years later your girlfriend too. It must be difficult to bear, yet you so brazenly use the power he gave you. His profane blood pumping through your veins."

"Excuse me?"

"You were told not to use your abilities."

"And what was I supposed to do? That demon would have killed me, and Lizzie, and my brother and everyone."

"You were told not to."

"If Samhain had gotten loose in this town-"

He cut me off, clearly not caring what I had to say, "You've been warned. Twice now."

"If Lizzie and I-"

"Let me make one thing clear. You were told not to use your powers. Next time we while make you. And that whore you and your brother cart around, she means nothing to us. So, I suggest she stop using her abilities as well. Or you'll both suffer the consequences."

I shook my head at him, wanting nothing more than to hurt him after what he'd just called Lizzie. "You know… my brother was right about you. You are dicks."

Looking to me again, he got up and was suddenly right in front of me. "The only reason you're still alive, Sam Winchester, is because you've been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you're worth, one word. One, and I will turn you to dust." Backing off, he went on, "As for your brother, tell him that maybe he should climb off that high horse of his. Ask Dean what he remembers from hell."

Just as quickly as he'd appeared in front of me, he was gone with the sound of heavy wings fluttering behind him. I was left on my own again, left to think about what he'd just told me and what it meant.

DPOV

I sat on a park bench, looking out at some kids and their parents as they played on the swings and ran around. I didn't even have to look over to know Castiel was sitting next to me. I'd heard his wings. I knew he was there.

"Let me guess you're here for the 'I told you so'?" I asked, though had a feeling I knew the answer.

"No."

Or maybe I didn't have the answer. "Well, good, cause I'm really not that interested."

"I am not here to judge you, Dean."

"Then why are you here?"

"Our orders-"

I cut him off, not really in the mood to hear this speech for the millionth time. "Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours-"

It was his turn to cut me off. "Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do."

I frowned, confused. "Your orders were to follow my orders?"

"It was a test, to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say."

"It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive," I noted. "So I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what? If you would have waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call. 'Cause see, I don't know what's gonna happen when these seals are broken. Hell, I don't even know what's gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, that this, here?" I gestured around us. "These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of Liz, my brother and me."

"You misunderstand me, Dean, I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town."

That was a surprise. "You were?"

"These people," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "they're all my father's creations. They're works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that's not an expression, Dean, it's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means."

He was right. I did appreciate what that meant. Which is why I'd wanted to save this people last night. Saving the world was great, sure, but not if the wrong choices had been made along the way. If I listened to the angels last night, then I'd deserve to be sent back to hell.

Speaking up again, Castiel pulled my attention to him. "Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?"

"Okay."

"I'm not a... hammer as you say. I have questions. I... I have doubts." He sighed. "I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't."

We shared a look for a moment and I could see he meant it. Turning away, I wondered what that might mean for me. What it might mean for Sam and Liz... for everyone else. But before I could ask, I looked over to see he was gone, and once again, I was alone.

Bamby

[flamed-like-anything]

Ineffable plans

Another Fleabag crossover fic that nobody asked for - this time, with Good Omens. 2100 words. Also on ao3.

"So, I, wow," started the priest, who at this point had recovered some of his wits. "So are you here- Is this- Do you have some kind of message for me, or...?"

"A message?" said Crowley, annoyed. "We're not the Microsoft Office paperclip, we don't just pop up with little hints for you every now and then."

It was a blistering day in mid-August and the priest was shuffling around between the pews in his church, trying to find a football that had rolled under a seat, when he was interrupted by a polite cough. In the light of the doorway were standing two men. One was placid-looking and beaming, in an immaculate cream suit with a shock of white hair. The other, serpentine and dark, seemed to be doing some kind of odd jerking movement with his feet, never leaving them on the floor for more than a moment at a time.

"Do excuse me," said the white-haired man politely, "we're looking for the father of this parish?"

"Hi! That's me," replied the priest, stumbling over a kneeler cushion to offer his hand.

"Ah, excellent," he said, shaking his hand warmly. "My name is Aziraphale and this is my fiancé Crowley."

"Lovely to meet you," said Crowley, continuing his strange dance, as though the soles of his shoes were on fire. "I won't shake hands. Bit of a cold, don't want to pass it on."

"Sure, sure," said the priest. "How can I help you both today?"

"Well, we're looking for a place for a wedding, and we do love old churches like this one," started Aziraphale.

"We had a bit of a romantic moment in one once," supplied Crowley. "It was fun, there were Nazis."

"He saved my books," said Aziraphale, with a tender, loving gaze at his partner.

"Oh wow, that sounds very- there were Nazis?"

"Oh, don't worry," said Crowley with a devilish grin, "they've been dealt with."

"Crowley!" his fiancé admonished. "Don't scare the poor man."

"No, no," the priest reassured them. "We don't like Nazis here either."

"Excellent," beamed Aziraphale, spreading his arms to hustle the priest out of the door and onto the pavement. "Let's talk about it over lunch."

"Where were you thinking, angel?" asked Crowley as they all stepped into the road.

"Ooh, well, there's this wonderful-"

A honking noise was the only warning they got before the lorry came barrelling into them.

In a flash, the priest's vision was filled with feathers, some brilliant white and blinding, some glossy, black as pitch. He blinked, and found himself shielded by two pairs of wings as the wind from the passing lorry whooshed around them, blowing up dust and debris from the road. The vehicle had miraculously swerved just at the last second to avoid them.

"Get out of the road!" Crowley shouted at the back of the lorry, with some rather descriptive hand gestures. The couple both shook their feathers a little, and Crowley picked some debris off the front of Aziraphale's lapels for him, examining it with a grimace.

"Do you think they noticed the old-" said Aziraphale, gesturing at his wings.

"They never notice anything, humans," snorted Crowley, picking a crisp packet out of his feathers.

The priest squeaked.

"Ah," said Aziraphale, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "That was the other thing that-"

"Fuck," said the priest, shaken. "I- You-" His eyes were bulging out of his head. The two angels - because that seemed the only logical explanation - both looked rather concerned as he wobbled over to the pavement.

Reverently, he dropped to his knees, head spinning. "He will cover you with his pinions," he breathed, "and under his wings you will find refuge."

"Yes, yes, that sort of thing," said the angel in a soothing voice, pulling him gently to his feet and patting his arm. "Let's get you a nice cup of tea and some lunch, hmm?"

"Do we have to do this?" asked Crowley in an undertone as they steered the mute priest towards a nearby restaurant. "Couldn't we just-"

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose and squirmed a little. "That doesn't seem right."

"But we could just-"

"No," he said more firmly, making up his mind. "We are not starting our marriage by wiping this poor man's memory. It sets a terrible precedent."

"Fine," huffed Crowley, "but if he gets all weird about it, I'm going home."

Luckily, a table for three just happened to become available the moment they walked into the restaurant, and they were soon ensconced in a comfortable booth with a bottle of rather nice Merlot and a pot of tea.

"So, I, wow," started the priest, who at this point had recovered some of his wits. "So are you here- Is this- Do you have some kind of message for me, or...?"

"A message?" said Crowley, annoyed. "We're not the Microsoft Office paperclip, we don't just pop up with little hints for you every now and then."

"Paperclip?" said Aziraphale, bemused. "I'm afraid you've lost me there."

"It's a," Crowley gestured vaguely, "computery thing."

Aziraphale shuddered delicately. "Oh. Well, regardless, no. We're not exactly on... active duty these days."

"Angels can retire?" asked the priest, racking his brain for what he could remember from seminary school. Nothing sprang to mind, but he would be the first to admit that he wasn't at his sharpest at this particular moment.

"Not strictly," said the angel, "but I think Heaven is currently, ah, a little busy with other matters."

"I'm not technically an angel, either," said Crowley, tipping down his sunglasses to reveal his eyes, deep orange with snakelike pupils. "There was a bit of a disciplinary... kerfuffle, and I'm more what you might call your actual demon... type... thing, really."

"So why did you come to my church?" said the priest, taking a large and restorative sip of his wine. "Can you even, how did you cross the threshold?"

"Bit hard on the feet, consecrated ground," agreed Crowley, grinning widely, "but it'll be worth it to see their faces."

"Whose faces?"

"I've had a bit of a bust-up with Hell over this whole Apocalypse fiasco - long story, you don't need to know - but this is going to piss off Beelzebub and the other arseholes to no end."

Aziraphale gave a happy wiggle. "They'll be jolly upset," he agreed. "Gabriel too, the bastard."

Sprawled over his seat, Crowley gave the angel a magnificently adoring look.

"So you really are getting married?" the priest asked, for clarification.

"Oh yes," said Aziraphale.

"And not just out of spite," said Crowley.

"No. Although there is some spite," conceded the angel. "I hope that's not a problem for you."

"I've seen people get married for worse reasons," he said absently. "What did you mean when you said Heaven is busy?"

"Busy playing silly buggers," muttered the demon.

"There was this sort of Apocalypse type thing that we rather, ah, got in the way of a bit - it was all terribly ineffable, you understand - and so they'll probably be off gearing up to do it all over again for a while. They seem to have left us alone, at any rate."

"Is it allowed, the two of you being together?"

"Oh, not at all," said the angel, gripping his fiancé's hand firmly. "They made a terrible fuss."

"I'll note that the Almighty hasn't smited us down, though," observed Crowley. He cocked his head, a little frown wrinkling his brow. "Smited. Smitten. Smoted?"

"Sorry," said the priest, his brain catching up with him. "Did you say that you stopped the Apocalypse?"

"For now, yes."

The priest poured himself another, very large, glass of wine.

"Fuck me. Well, fuck." He took a meditative gulp. "If it comes up again, I'm happy to help, if you need," he offered weakly. He wasn't entirely sure what help, exactly, he could offer, but he could probably do something.

Maybe he could design the uniforms.

"That's very kind of you," said the angel. "You seem like a very nice young man. Are you married?"

"No, not really allowed in the Catholic..." he trailed off, thinking. "Fuck, is any of that true? How does God feel about priests falling in love?"

"It's always difficult to know exactly what the ineffable plan is," hemmed Aziraphale.

The priest frowned. "You can't talk directly to God?"

"Not without being put on hold for hours. It's worse than telephoning the gas company. No, I'm afraid I don't know."

"Probably doesn't give a fuck, to be honest," interjected Crowley. "Compared to our forbidden love, yours is... mildly hinted against."

"Breaking a couple of by-laws, punishable by a fine, kind of thing," supplied Aziraphale.

"Probably not even that! I mean look at us, walking around un-smitten."

"I must protest, Crowley!" said Aziraphale indulgently. "I am entirely smitten." They shared a long, loving look.

The priest, busy having an existential crisis, paid no notice.

"I'm afraid there's really no way to know the Almighty's plan for you," Aziraphale said to him gently, "but that's not so bad, is it? That means you get to decide for yourself."

"Jesus fucking Christ," said the priest, just as the waiter stopped at their table to deliver their food. This being the kind of establishment that insisted on the highest level of discretion and politeness from their staff, he merely raised an eyebrow at the priest's collar and turned away without comment, smiling to himself.

"You don't have to fall in love if you don't want to," the angel continued in a delicate tone, "but equally, if there's someone who..."

The two celestial beings locked eyes with each other again, and Crowley brought Aziraphale's hand to his lips to give it a soft, affectionate kiss.

"Look, it's just not worth putting it off, all right?" said the angel. "Believe me."

The priest hunched down in his chair. "How do you know you've done the right thing?" he said in a small voice.

"Don't ask me about the right thing," said Crowley, "I've been trying to do the opposite for 6,000 years, I couldn't tell you anything about doing the right thing, but I can tell you this: whenever I look at him, all I can see is hope."

Aziraphale visibly melted, cradling Crowley's face in one hand. "And I you, dear boy," he said sincerely, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

After a moment, he turned back to the priest, who was picking at a plate of mussels without enthusiasm, reconsidering his life choices.

"I really don't mean to pry," said Aziraphale hesitantly, "but she's working at that café today, you know."

The priest gave a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "Fucking angels."

"Like I said, I don't like to be too forward, but it really does seem a shame."

Crowley, busily wrapping himself around Aziraphale like ivy, hummed his assent.

Giving a lopsided half-smile, the priest looked down at his hands. "I'm supposed to love one thing."

"Love isn't finite, Father," said the angel patiently. "When you find someone you love... you fall in love with the whole world, through them. There's enough to go around."

"Best to be on the safe side, though." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Don't want to mess up any divine plans."

"Listen," said Crowley, taking an interest. "How about this - you go ahead and get this girl and be happy, and if we see any divine wrath headed your way we'll just sort of... head it off at the pass."

"Yes!" beamed Aziraphale, bouncing in his seat. "We'll keep an eye out for locusts and hellfire and so forth, then you won't have to worry."

"Provided you agree to do our wedding, of course," added the demon with a cocked eyebrow.

"That seems fair," said the priest. "Fuck. OK." He let out a huff of air. He fought the urge to giggle, feeling infinite promise crackling around the edge of his vision. Maybe this could work. It was a celestial being-approved plan. "OK."

"If you start running now, you could get to her in ten minutes," said Crowley casually, pouring himself another drink.

"Fuck," said the priest again, for good measure, and drained his glass. "Right, fuck it." He bounded to his feet and sprinted for the door.

"You could have offered him a lift, you scoundrel," he heard Aziraphale saying to Crowley, but he didn't have space in his brain to think about it.

A few minutes later, he arrived at the door to Hillary's out of breath, dishevelled and panting, sweat beading on his forehead in the midday sun. Pushing open the door, he burst ungracefully into the room and stopped short.

She was standing at the counter, looking alarmed, amused, and pleased in equal measures.

"I-" he started, then stopped. With a couple of strides, he crossed the room and took her face in his hands.

"I have had the weirdest fucking day," he said, and kissed her.

[prmgles]

Demon!Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley is keeping me up at night. I like reimagined the whole show with a different dynamic. What changed? Not much.

They’d both still be themselves, in fact, more so! Aziraphale doesn’t have to keep his worries and his questions hidden away, he can just be a bastard who loves Earth and everything on it. 

He was thrown out not for being bad, but he just didn’t understand the ineffable plan. Why would people have to suffer? Why would She do this to her creations? He gifts Eve with the temptation for knowledge.

His sinning and tempting revolve around pushing the “seven deadly sins”. He doesn’t see why people can’t just enjoy the fun things in life. He pushes for people to eat what they want, love who they want, and take pride in everything they do, how they look. He enjoys everything the world has to offer, he doesn't want anyone Hurt, or to be evil, but if he can guide people away from Her Divine Plan, then, okay! He’s a bastard to a fault and there is no need to hide it here. He can lie, and outright share his thoughts because what will happen to him? He’s not the most devilish demon in hell, but he asked to be put on Earth, and he’s too fussy for the first demons to want around anyway.

Crowley is just so good. He loves people, Earth, and everything it has to offer. He is an angel who wants to Protect, and he knows how to keep anything he worries about to himself. He’s a smooth talker, when he’s asked where the sword went he just says, “OH I set it down for just a quick moment, can’t go swinging a flaming sword in such a beautiful garden, y’ know.”. He never lies, just knows how to omit. Answer the questions just truthful enough to get by without getting himself in trouble. He finds his own answers without asking questions that could cause him to fall.

He keeps his home in the image of Heaven and keeps a Garden in memoriam to Eden.

Aziraphale keeps a bookshop where he covets the words the people wrote. He loves information, he loves seeing what people create.

-

I imagine in Eden. Aziraphale comes up to the wall and transforms back into his human form, and is taken aback when an angel slides up next to him and says, “That went down like a lead balloon.” It takes a moment to collect himself and understand, the angel is merely looking at him suspiciously and not smiting him?? 

Aziraphale’s argument is that they deserve to have that knowledge, it’s not like it was hidden. It was right there tempting them, placed by God Herself because she couldn't bother to put it on the moon or something. It was the right thing to do.

Crowley agrees on this whole thing, but can never say so. “Demons can’t do the right thing.”

When Aziraphale notices the missing sword and he hears Crowley, might have left it next to a big whole he may have created in the wall. 

When Azi tells him, “You’re an Angel! You can’t do the bad thing.” He means it. He is adamant. The angel before him is Good, He Knows. If this angel did something, it must have been good, and there is no if not. He doesn't want this angel to fall for doing something that is going to protect these two precious humans.

Crowley leaves amused and interested in this demon whose entire argument was based on,” I did this very Good thing,, for Hell of course, since it hurts whatever this Heavenly prospect was.”

Aziraphale is left with the fact he was not cast away from this angel but had a very cordial conversation with them. He raises his wings above their heads during the first rain. 

Mesopotamia. Crowley is pinching his lips horrified at what is happening, knowing he can’t do a thing about it. Knowing he can’t say anything against it. He isn't opposed to the demon walking up to him, finding him in the madness, and honestly worried about the outcome of the sword. He tells him, icily, not because he’s angry at the demon but the situation they are currently standing in. he is entirely too relieved when Aziraphale voices his dissent. “She can’t do this! What did they do to deserve this? The children? Really!?” 

Rather then it being Aziraphale sucking in his lips trying to stop voice his worries, not daring to question Her, simply hemming and hawing, clearly upset; it’s Crowley, clearly pissed that he can't do a thing. “She’s so kind, promising to debut a “rain-bow” after wiping all these people out.

It’s only when Aziraphale asks, “If She wants these people gone, it would be absolutely terrible, to save them, wouldn’t it?” That Crowley loses some tension. Yes, it would be. Most devilish.

He is entirely too smitten when he comes across Aziraphale hiding in an alcove of the Ark with those who were left behind.

 --

Golgotha

“Crawly wasn’t angelic enough.”

 “So what, Raphael then?

 “Crowley.”

“Hm”

( I just imagined big picture stuff here folks).

It’s Aziraphale who leads Jesus to the Kingdoms of the world, trying to get him to escape the Plan laid out for him by God. He wants so desperately to save this man, this man who just wants people to Be Kind. 

And it’s Crolwy who stands angry and upset he couldn't much to save him. He doesn't have a say in any decisions from Up Above.

-

Rome is much the same. Aziraphale overhears Crowley - an angel who can’t stop being upset at his orders and how Heaven is run.

“Still an Angel, then?” - You’re still following orders that are too painful to follow? You’re still trying to do good? You’re still safe? You’re not Fallen?

“Let me tempt you to-” His sputtering this time isn’t because he did the other man’s job but, “Not that I'm actually attempting to tempt an Angel-!”

But, Lord, is Crowley tempted.

-

Stop to mention, that obviously some allegiances would change. Aziraphale has to work with the bad guys because he is a demon. He doesn’t disprove of killing those who deserve it, and he can justify doing a bad thing if it means going against Heaven and God.

I Image his look being more muted. More white and empty. Eyes that look milky white, because he had argued before he was dropped, was that he, “Just couldn’t see why-” (Why this Great plan didn’t seem so great.)

He wears white, not necessarily to boast a Heavenly clean look, but it’s nice to look clean and sharp when you're a demon, and all you’re counterparts look like that.  He is a demon who can look the part of Those Up Above.

I like Crowley wearing dark colors, not necessarily black, but dark, warm colors. He feels a disconnect from Heaven, and he doesn't Want to look the part.-

-

It’s still Crowley who suggests it would be easier if they lied to their Head Offices since they just cancel each other out. And Aziraphale stills upsets at the idea of lying, not for himself but, Crowley can't do that! You can’t just Lie to them! That’s big trouble! 

This time his offices WOuld check, the demons down there do seem to keep good track of how much evil is happening, and wondering if it couldn't have been more evil, Azira-fail?

Heaven doesn’t check. Crowley knows this. They may have sticklers u there but do they even pay attention?

The entire conversation, as knights, pretty much stays the same actually. They just,, work for different offices. Aziraphale can’t accept an Angel doing something against the rules.

Cause the thing is? He believes in good. When he became a demon he felt a horrible ain he cannot imagine Crowley (or anyone else for that matter) going through. He can’t have that.

Here, as Aziraphale as a demon, he has to constantly worry that he is tempting Crowley to sin, by having an AGreement like they do. Something horrible could happen, Heaven could destroy him. 

Angel or Demon, Aziraphale is going to worry about Crowley’s safety and how his own actions can affect it.

Crowley as an angel has to follow the line of working with HEaven, dong the good he Actually believes in, but he has a line he does not want to cross. He doesn’t fully agree with HEaven does and can only go so far against it.

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Globe: I can’t imagine this scene going much differently again either. Demon Aziraphale eating, enjoying a play from a very creative man? Absolutely. 

Crowley sneaking in, careful to make sure they’re not being watched, because he is aware of what horrible things could happen and is careful to make sure there is no getting caught.

Simply switching who is doing Good and who is doing Bad. “A few minor temptations. - No rest for the wicked.” 

[Aziraphale wanting one of the Gloomy plays to be popular? Yes. It actually being  Miracle (not a demonic one that does it). Not wanting to be associated with an Angel (I’m not bringing this man down, of course not) HMM. It is an entirely different way to show how they’re both not entirely on their sides? Crowley tempting Aziraphale ]? Aziraphale, being the one to worry? It means something else if they’re on the other side.]

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Bookshop scene where Hastur and Ligur come to bring Aziraphale back to hell, as he isn't DOing Enough Evil, and they have to overhear Crowley go on about “That devilish, Demon, always thwarting and being Evil!”

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In France, his excuse is, “I can’t explain a demonic miracle when I’m here for crepes.” (+No need to explain why he just allowed Jean Claude to die in his place. +Crowley was, “In the area” because he heard about what “Aziraphale did”. “You think this is MY Demonic Work??” “So the humans thought it up themselves? *instantly relieves Aziraphale of his chains*. (Aziraphale didn’t do anything of course, but was pleased to see some justice done). 

Can demons thank people? Can he be grateful to an Angel helping him out? No, more because an Angel can’t go saving demons. 

In St. James, Aziraphale asks the same favor. Crowley can’t allow this, he cares far too much about Aziraphale to bring him such a thing. Aziraphale is prone to ding stupid things, and not thinking out the consequences. He Won’t do this favor. “I’m not an idiot Crowley, I’m not going to just hurt myself.” The fraternizing comment hurts still too. Of course, this Angel has better people to hang around with, he’s just a demon, and Crowley is hurt by the fact his demonic friend views their connection as lowly fraternizing. 

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The WWII scene is hard. Are they in a church? Does Azi just wear thick shoes?  They think he’s actually evil, but they had suspicions, and :O they’re taking him out. Crowly (Infamous British Intelligence A.J. Crowley) can redirect the bombs cause it’s no trouble killing Nazis, and Azi still saves them both and is warmed so much when the Angel saves his books again, after everything, and when they weren’t important to anyone but for him. 

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Aziraphale planning a heist to steal Holy water, and coming out to have a familiar Bently pull up next to him. “You’re an idiot, of course, I hear about crimes going on, I’m an Angel, I'm supposed to stop these things.  Here’s what you’re looking for, keep it safe. I fear losing you, let me take you ou, anywhere you want to go, please,”

“I’m a Demon and I just got an Angel to do something for me, an Angel who seems to care very Much about me in a way that is unacceptable. Maybe I tempted him, in which case that is wrong, and it could get this wonderful Angel killed. I cannot accept his advances as that would be a Sin,, surely.”

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If I didn't have to work.