#let it be known: i love slapping wings and halos on things

[forter-from-meteos]

i still have a lot of thoughts about meteos

[rusty-tetanus-nail]

Never Look Away

Summary: Dean and Cas are forced to redefine their relationship as a decade old secret between them finally comes to light.

Dean jumps up, strangely offended.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve seen my browser history. Your true form doesn’t even make my top 10 weirdest things I’ve jerked off to, so that's a load of bull..."

Notes: This is the result of listening to Never Look Away by Vienna Teng for 10 hours gay.

-------

Careful not to wake him, Dean traces the outlines of Cas’s body illuminated by the reddish hues of the morning sun with his fingers. He can hardly believe it’s only been a year since they defeated God and pulled Cas out of the Empty with the promise of a love returned. 

So much has changed in such little time. With the illusion of free will no longer binding Dean to a greater destiny and with Cas and Dean’s own feelings out in the open he finally allowed himself to want all the things he denied himself for so long, always prioritizing other people’s happiness over his own. Now he has it all. A house, a job, a family, a life, Cas. It was so hard at first, to stop looking for hunts and letting go of Sam so he too could start his own life with Eileen by his side, but in the end Dean had been too tired to fight his own desires any longer and gave in.

Fuck the voice of his father telling him his only purpose in life was to watch out for Sammy and fuck the man John wanted him to be. He helped save this world so he gets to live in it in whatever way he wants to and what he wants is to live his cheesy apple pie life waking up every day next to the man he loves.

Cas stirs in his sleep and Dean watches the translucent wings flutter against the light seemingly drinking up the morning sun. They used to be pitch black back when they first met. A beautiful sight, yet not quite fitting the man Cas would eventually become.

Then they burned and Dean could barely stomach to look at them knowing how much the culmination of all of Dean’s mistakes had hurt Cas so irreparably. And now the wings are whole again and even more awe-inspiring than before. Something about Dean rescuing Cas from the Empty or maybe a blessing from Jack has restored them leaving Dean with the desperate urge to touch the intangible. Watching one of the smaller eyes on Cas’ wings slowly flutter open Dean wonders if it would be rude to ask about the colour change and chuckles. The way the wings shimmer with all the colours of the rainbow is just so wonderfully, blatantly gay.

“What’s so funny?” Cas mumbles half asleep as a couple more eyes flutter open searching for the source of Dean’s amusement.

Dean leans over, one hand caressing Cas’ jaw and kisses him softly good morning.

“I just love you so damn much.” He whispers only inches away from his husband’s mouth and rests his forehead against Cas’.

Cas moves back to study Dean’s face questioningly. The familiar stare is so much more intense now that Dean can take all of Cas in without suffering through the burning sensation that always accompanied laying his eyes on something filled with angelic grace. 

Dean swallows hard. Having all of Cas’ eyes so solely focussed on him and him alone is such a major turn on. He must be doing it on purpose. It’s unfair how such a simple action has so much of an effect on Dean.

“I don’t understand how that’s funny.” Cas says, one eyebrow raised.

“Then come and find out.”

Dean’s mind is already too far gone to care for the conversation and he pulls Cas closer by his shirt desperate to embrace the parts of Cas that he can actually touch. Now fully awake, Cas reciprocates the action enthusiastically pressing their lips together earnestly and climbing on top of Dean to explore his body with his hands and mouth. Not for the first time Dean curses his past self for not allowing himself to be loved by Cas years ago. There’s so much time they have yet to make up for. Luckily they’re both more than willing to try.

Dean’s musings are cut short when Cas’ attentions move downward as Dean’s legs get pushed apart and Cas presses against Dean’s growing erection. 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean groans and sees new galaxies forming inside Cas’ body. Always good to know that Cas enjoys this as much as Dean does.

The prodding stops and Dean lets out an embarrassing whine.

“Not yet.” Cas teases with a grin, all of his eyes’ attention once again on Dean alone. The bastard. Dean has half the mind to hit him upwards with his knee in retaliation, but soon gets distracted by Cas intertwining his hands with Dean’s and leaning down slowly to kiss the sensitive spot on Dean’s neck. He gasps and moves his neck so Cas can take him apart much easier.

In their closeness Cas’ celestial body engulfs Dean in his entirety and he is left again, breathless, by the unfathomable sight of his lover’s true form. Stars and skies in colours not named by men expand and swirl inside the translutient depths of the oceans and galaxies that make up the angels body as the golden halos’ luminescence submerges them both in it’s light. Dean would lose himself in the sight if it weren’t for the thousands of eyes, holding the knowledge of millenia, watching him unblinkingly in a way that is so Cas, so human, that Dean can’t see anything else but his stupid socially awkward self-sacrificing husband.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Dean blurts out, giving voice to his thoughts.

Cas flinches away as if burned, his true form doing much the same. He wavers back against the bedroom wall as far away as possible from his vessel and curls in on himself. At least Dean assumes that’s what Cas is trying to do. Cas' true form, once taller than any skyscraper, has shrunk significantly with the absence of grace powering him up, but is still far too large to fit completely inside a house let alone a room.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks sitting up.

Cas turns away, his eyes fluttering across the room looking for an escape. Dean gingerly places a hand on Cas’ shoulder and is relieved when he’s not pushed away.

“Hey, Cas, buddy. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I know it’s weird coming from me, but let’s not do this again. No more unnecessary secrets. Please.”

Cas takes Dean’s hand into his and nods. One slow measured breath and he starts talking.

“Dean, I- I know you can’t help seeing me this way, but I dislike it when you comment on my appearance.”

Cas’ vessel is still turned away, but out of the corner of his eyes Dean can see Cas, the real Cas, watching his reaction with interest.

“Well, uh, okay, if it makes you uncomfortable I can stop.” Dean starts awkwardly. “But let me assure you there is absolutely no reason for you to feel insecure about the way you look, you’re-” Dean trails off. You’re mind blowingly gorgeous and sometimes your beauty is so overwhelming that I’m scared I’ll cry if I look too closely.

At Dean's words, Cas finally turns to face him.

“I’m not ‘insecure’, Dean.” Cas bites out emphasizing his irritation with air quotes. “In fact my true form is counted as one of the most attractive among my brethren.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow. No argument there. Cas is by far the prettiest angel he’s ever seen.

“And I am well aware that you find my vessel visually pleasing, but Dean, what you’re complimenting is not me. It’s Jimmy Novak.”

“Uh, Jimmy’s a good looking guy for sure, but the one who’s beautiful is definitely you.”

Instead of being reassured by Dean’s words Cas just sighs resignated.

“It’s kind of you to refer to my inner beauty, but we both know this is not what you meant. You see Jimmy’s face and call it beautiful. I don’t begrudge you for this but don’t like being confused with him.”

Oh Cas definitely has insecurities. How can he even think Jimmy fucking Novak is anywhere near as attractive as Cas himself?

“No, I meant exactly what I said. You, the you you, are fucking hot.”

Cas’ frowns, unhappy with Dean’s reply.

“It’s okay. I understand. It’s hard to keep Jimmy’s body and I seperate. There’s no need for you to backtrack to make me feel better. Let’s just stop arguing about this.”

“Oh no Jon Snow. Not so fast. Let me put this in terms even you and your insecure ass will understand.”

Dean takes Cas’ face into his hands and stares deeply into his eyes. The staring is a habit from back when Cas was still fully juiced up. With the angel grace making it near impossible to look at Cas’ true form without feeling like his eyes were on fire, the vessel's eyes were the only place Dean’s own could safely escape to.

“Your true form is incredibly attractive. Very sexy. Wings and all. If I could hit that, I would. Inner beauty not required.” He speaks slowly as if to a child. Apparently it was the wrong thing to do as Cas slaps Dean’s hands away unable to suppress his irritation any longer.

“Dean, you’ve never seen my true form and I can assure you if you had, its inhuman nature would stop you from ‘hitting that’.”

Dean jumps up, strangely offended.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve seen my browser history. Your true form doesn’t even make my top 10 weirdest things I’ve jerked off to, so that’s a load of bull and second of all…”

Dean grows quiet. What does Cas mean with Dean’s never seen his true form before? Wasn’t the ability to see angels part of being the Michael Sword or something? How could Cas not know? And even if he didn’t, they’ve known each other for over ten years. It must’ve come up at some point. 

Dean rifles through his memories desperate to find the right one, but draws a blank and visibly blanches. 

Cas had no reason to believe Dean could see him. Back when they first met, Cas made some assumptions and Dean didn’t correct him, not trusting the self proclaimed angel an inch. And then it’s always been the vessel Dean’s been talking to, never the one puppeteering it. At first out simple necessity, then out of pure habit. 

Determined to rectify their decade old misunderstanding Dean makes his way through the bedroom and sits down right in front of what Dean assumes must be the angel equivalent of Cas’ face or maybe his hand. Either way the body part has enough eyes to have an honest conversation with and has been observing Dean and the vessel talk this whole time. 

This is Cas. The real Cas. And it’s high time for Dean to stop averting his eyes.

Cas squirms under his stare.

“Dean, childishly staring at an empty wall won’t solve this.” Cas argues from behind Dean and Dean has to suppress the urge to turn around. The voice might be coming from the vessel, but the one talking is the angel in front of him.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Dean says, looking directly into one of Cas’ bigger eyes. Cas freezes momentarily at the direct eye contact and then his eyes swirl around frantically trying to find whatever it is that Dean’s looking at. Dean's stomach tightens. It hasn’t been fair to make Cas feel as if he’s invisible just because it’s easier for his stupid human brain to talk to the vessel.

Dean reaches out attempting to touch the nervously fluttering wing next to him, but as expected his hand moves right through it. He smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry, Cas. It seems there’s something I’ve neglected to tell you. I thought you knew, but that’s not an excuse.” Dean pauses. “I’ve always been able to see you.”

There’s a storm brewing inside Cas, a tension. One wrong move and a star could explode setting off a supernova that is held at bay by nothing but a shimmering skin made of light and colours. His husband is nervous at the possibility of being seen, Dean realises and has no choice but to confirm Cas’ worry.

“When you were still full of grace I couldn’t look directly at you without fearing for my eyes, so I got used to looking at your vessel instead, but I’ve always known and seen the real you.”

Ever since Dean could remember gigantic and intangible creatures taller than skyscrapers with wings that could pierce the heavens have been watching him from a distance, their countless eyes following his every move. Scary, yet unimaginably beautiful. As a child Dean would try to describe them and ask what they were, but apart from his mom there was never anyone trying to hear him out.

“Children and their imagination.” Adults would say and ruffle his hair whenever he tried to ask about them and by the time he was four he realised that he’s the only one who could see them.

Then his mom died and all his questions and curiosity were left behind in the ruins of their broken home. Dean learned quickly that John had no use for children and their imaginary friends. He needed to grow up and become a soldier for his family’s sake. So he followed the orders, and pretended not to see these watchers following him around.

Later, when Dean was a teen and John was gone most of the time, Sam often dragged him to libraries and Dean would do his own research on the creatures in secret, too scared to ask anyone for help. John made it pretty clear he didn’t want Dean talking about them and Dean feared that if he told someone and didn’t have proof of their existence Dean would be sent off to a mental ward for seeing things that were simply not there. In the end it took dying and coming back to life to find his answers.

Despite having seen these creatures all of his life, when they summoned the one named Castiel, Dean needed a moment to figure out what he was seeing. He’s never been this close to any of them and the proximity was overwhelming. Dean was suddenly acutely aware just how Pamela's eyes could've been burned out so easily by the creature's visage.

In an attempt not to suffer the same fate as her, Dean averted his eyes and spotted a man entering the barn, his body connected with small tendrils to the large creature around him. A puppet, Dean thought, one he could touch and subsequently kill, so without another moment's hesitation Dean took the first shot. And then the second, a third. Neither the puppet nor the creature were faced by his attempts to fight, merely curious. As if Dean was nothing more but an ant trying to fight a giant.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” The puppet finally said, inhuman in everything but his appearance and so Dean stabbed him as a thanks for the introduction. Next thing he knew, Bobby was down and the guy began claiming to be an angel.

“There’s no such thing.” Dean said, but the voice of his mother telling him that angels were watching over him thought differently.

The man’s body straightened and the creature, Castiel, stood up, his form ending far beyond the barn’s roof and he spread his wings. Bolts of lighting exploded into an array of mesmerizing fireworks and Dean was left breathless before the angel. His terrifying beauty nesting deep inside Dean’s heart and he knew he was lost.

“No, you must be lying.” Cas says as his body trembles under Dean’s stare.

“I’m not.” Dean replies, leaving no room for debate and moves closer to Cas, who seems to be trying to escape through the bedroom wall. “So believe me when I say that you’re fucking beautiful and only thinking about you watching me with your many many eyes is enough to make me hard.”

Cas sputters incoherently and his body changes colours rapidly, eventually settling on a pinkish sort of hue. Oh. That’s new. Dean grins.

“Cas, Huggybear, are you blushing?” Dean teases, taking immense amusement in this new discovery. Cas swirls him around in an attempt to make Dean look at his vessel again, but with a true form as big as Cas’ it’s not hard to find a new part of Cas’ body to focus his attention on.

“No.” Cas growls defensively. “Stop looking.”

“Make me.” The reply is a bit cliché but Dean isn’t trying to win an Oscar. He’d much rather film a porn instead.

In the blink of an eye Dean is encased possessively in Cas’s wings and pushed onto the bed with urgency. Fuck yes.

[sondepoch]

He Chose God

Tales of Our Love (Simeon x Reader)

You were an angel. Such an angel. Why had you been born as a human? Your heart was too pure, too kind, too angelic for you to belong anywhere but in the starry skies of the Celestial Realm—a place where Simeon could freely love you. But God had birthed you to Earth. Out of the reach of the heavens, and out of the reach of Simeon's love. 

~Part of a series but can be read as a oneshot

He Chose God | Wake Up | Astronomical | ✎ |

MASTERLIST

He chose God.

"It's the right choice," You had assured him, smiling softly. It didn't help, though. Seeing such a tranquil smile appear on your face when he knew all too well of the turmoil he was putting your heart through only made him feel worse. "Don't look so sad, Simeon," You whispered, wrapping him in a gentle embrace. "You're doing the right thing."

He choked back a sob as he clutched your shoulders, holding onto your body like it was a lifeline. It was twisted, wasn't it? Here he was, breaking up with you, saying that he couldn't love you anymore because he chose God and still, you were the one comforting him.

Simeon clung to your figure, pressing you close despite the fact that your heart was already growing out of reach. Loving as ever, you let him, giving the man all the time he needed to say goodbye.

You were an angel.

Such an angel.

Why had you been born as a human? Your heart was too pure, too kind, too angelic for you to belong anywhere but in the starry skies of the Celestial Realm—a place where Simeon could freely love you.

But God had birthed you to Earth. Out of the reach of the heavens, and out of the reach of Simeon's love.

He pulled himself unsteadily from your arms, trying his hardest to avoid your eyes. Those loving eyes, always so soft with adoration and warmth and kindness.

"I'm so sorry," He repeated, despite your continued hushes that there was nothing to be sorry for.

But there was.

He needed forgiveness.

From you, or from God—did it make a difference?

The angel had sinned. Claimed your lips hundreds of nights, pulled you into his lap and forgotten every hymn except the song of your voice as you moaned under his touch. And now he was leaving you, the night before your return to the human world, apologizing for all his love and taking it back.

Worse yet, you weren't even angry.

Curse at me, he wanted to tell you. Shout at me, hit me, slap me, return all the pain I am giving to you tenfold!

But you didn't. You hummed quietly, running your hands through his hair, murmuring that he shouldn't blame himself. That it wasn't his fault he chose God over you.

Simeon never did figure out how he managed to separate himself from your arms.

That night, it was Lucifer he went to. His old companion, the only person he knew would give him the truth.

"Did I do the right thing?" He asked, hands shaking as he stood before the fallen Morningstar. "Tell me, Lucifer. Tell me the truth!"

Lucifer had sighed, staring at the ground. It was a long time before the demon finally spoke, but when he did, his voice was soft.

"It is too late to change your decision."

Lucifer rested a hand on Simeon's shoulder as he said the words, a quiet offer of strength that was perhaps the only reason the angel was able to remain standing as regret filled his heart.

It was too late to change his decision.

Thousands of years ago, when Lucifer had led his rebellion against God and filled the Celestial sky with blood and pain, Simeon had sided with the rest of the angels and fought against his old friend. It was a decision he had made in confidence, despite his love for Lucifer. But it was one he never would have made if he had known the extent of his eventual love for you.

A small part of him almost wished that you hadn't reciprocated his feelings.

Maybe, just maybe, if you had fallen in love with one of the demons, then your heart would have been saved. These creatures of the Devildom were free to love whomever they wished, after all. They could stay with you at the RAD for all eternity and bathe in your love every morning.

But not Simeon.

He had chosen to fight for God, and he cursed himself to the life of an angel, a life that denied him the right to hold a human's heart. And it was a decision he would never be able to take back.

"I'm sorry," He whispered to Lucifer.

Simeon didn't know what he was apologizing for. He didn't even know if the words were meant for the demon's ears. He just knew that: he was sorry.

The feeling stayed with him the next morning, as he and Luke made their return to the Celestial Realm. It never disappeared, not when he made his reports to the archangels or the seraphims or at any point except for when he could return to his own abode in the clouds and gaze upon the human realm.

But the angel couldn't see you.

The heavens were too far up, and Simeon could only gaze upon the vague shape of the continent he knew you lived in, wondering if you were staring up at the sky in longing for him, as well.

He barely noticed as the days turned into weeks, and after he had already been absent for an entire year, few noticed his increased disappearances during the day when he would return to his home cloud, eyes drawn to where he knew you were.

He wanted to go to you.

Simeon felt his breath catch in his throat when the idea crossed his mind, realizing the weight of the thought. Was it not already a sin to consider forsaking the life God had given him? A crime, to sacrifice the gifts he was bestowed with in favor of personal gratification?

Ah, Simeon couldn't help but think. But what is one more sin?

Indeed, his transgressions seemed endless. Every moment spent with you, another offense against his holy nature. You were his vice, but also the one thing he would never stop desiring.

Jump, he told himself, long legs approaching the edge, a queer sense of calmness wrapping around him at the prospect. Jump, and let go of all the pain.

He couldn't help but wonder if he would be reborn as an angel.

Wouldn't that be amusing? To leave the realm and come back to it all the same, forced to continue his eternity without the love of his life.

Alas, it didn't matter. If he was sent to the human world, the chances of him finding you were slim—and if he was rebirthed as a demon, it would be too late. Reincarnated, he might be, but there would be no life for him without you.

There already was no life without you.

The only times he had been alive—not just breathing but feeling—were those long nights he spent with you, fingers intertwined and lips ghosting over skin. He breathed life in the warmth of your skin, the flush of your cheeks, the chime of your laughter.

He breathed life in you.

Simeon's fingers didn't tremble as he walked to the edge of the clouds. He felt calm as the softness of the heavens shifted under his weight, threatening to dissipate. The skies were fickle, and angels always stayed in the center, but he had no fear in his heart.

In the end, Simeon did not jump.

He simply kept walking forward until the clouds supporting him could not, and then he was falling from the sky, graceful and slow.

His wings did not beat, his halo did not shine. He drew closer to the earth, further from the heavens, and it was not long before he met the painless end he had sought, memories of your time together bringing a smile to his face even in his final moments.

Body approaching Earth, Simeon had turned into a shooting star, elegant as he streaked across your night sky, shining with the final glow of everything holy that remained inside him.

By then, he was already gone.

He could not know that you had seen the light, and gasped as you saw the first shooting star since your return from the Devildom. He could not know that your eyes had taken one glance at the light and that your heart had whispered a prayer—a gentle wish that you had never abandoned even after Simeon had left your arms for the final time.

Let him be happy, you whispered to the God he had foolishly chosen, affection flooding your mind as the shooting star disappeared.

Your wish was wasted. 

MASTERLIST

He Chose God | Wake Up | Astronomical | ✎ |

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: I feel like this angel has more angst potential than all the other characters combined

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

Angel + sterek for a one word prompt, please.

So I’ve been watching a lot of Bioshock playthroughs this past week and you have NO IDEA how tempted I was with this one to Bioshock it, but that wouldn’t be fair since that is currently my obsession and not yours, so I went with something else. It kind of stumped me when I threw Bioshock out the window so, I did my best! Hope you like it :)

Angel.

If there was one thing Derek did not want to be doing tonight, it was exactly what he was about to do right this second. Because he preferred to just stay home, read a book, and not have to deal with any supernatural bullshit happening on the one night a year where there was always guaranteed to be some kind of supernatural bullshit happening.

He really would’ve rather stayed home, but Stiles had been excited about a massive party at Lydia’s—why always Lydia’s, did no one else throw parties in this town?—and Derek was a good boyfriend so he was willing to suffer the uncomfortable stupidity of drunk morons and an over-emotional drunk boyfriend.

Climbing the porch steps, he knocked on the door and heard Stiles stumbling around inside. He shouted that he was on his way down, but Derek could hear him still trying to get himself put together, so he didn’t worry about it too much. The longer Stiles took to get ready, the longer Derek could avoid being surrounded by idiot humans.

Shoving his hands in his pockets and looking around, he nodded politely to the neighbour next door who was peeking through her curtains. She hastily retreated, and Derek rolled his eyes. People were still scared of him, for the most part, which was kind of ridiculous because if he was standing on the sheriff’s porch, waiting for the sheriff’s son, whom he also happened to be dating, presumably he was not a danger to society.

Everyone knew how protective the sheriff was of his son, why would he allow a dangerous criminal to date him?

Actually, of late, the sheriff seemed particularly pleased that Derek and Stiles were dating. Derek attributed it to the fact that whenever there was danger and Stiles was about to get maimed, Derek jumped in front of him to protect him. His dad probably really liked that.

Derek, not so much, because he got hurt a lot, but he’d do it as many times as he had to in order to protect his moron of a boyfriend.

The door opened and Derek turned to him, Stiles beaming at him before it slowly slid off his face.

“What are you supposed to be?”

“What are you supposed to be?” Derek demanded, taking in his appearance. He was wearing what looked to be a suit with a long brown trenchcoat overtop. He’d obviously avoided shaving for a few days because he had some stubble, and his hair was styled differently.

He also had a set of angel wings on his back.

“I asked first,” Stiles insisted, crossing his arms. “Come on, Derek! You were supposed to dress up!”

“I’m a Werewolf,” he informed him, flashing his eyes. “I can be ready in seconds.”

“And that’s not risky to you?”

“Why would it be risky? Who’s going to think Werewolves are real?” Derek shrugged.

Sure, he’d promised Stiles he was going to dress up for this Halloween party, but he honestly hadn’t known what to dress up as. He wasn’t exactly the most imaginative person on the planet, and after thinking on it for far too long, he’d decided on just being himself.

Well, a Werewolf, anyway. He figured he would just show up in his beta shift and keep it going all night. The drunk idiots wouldn’t notice it was real, anyway, and this saved him time trying to figure out what to be.

“No.” Stiles grabbed his arm and yanked him into the house. “No, no. We’re not doing that. We’re going to get you into something better.”

“Seriously,” Derek insisted, shutting the door and allowing Stiles to drag him upstairs, “what are you supposed to be?”

“Hello,” Stiles insisted, turning at the top of the stairs and motioning himself. “An angel. I’m Castiel? From Supernatural?”

Derek tried extremely hard not to laugh, but he didn’t succeed. He just burst out laughing at the absurdity of Stiles dressing up as an angel!

“Are you serious? You? An angel?”

“I am perfectly angelic!”

“Not in the bedroom, you’re not,” Derek said with a small smirk.

“Fuck you, Hale.”

Stiles dragged him into his room and started pulling off a majority of his clothes. Derek didn’t mind, this was something they did fairly often, though he had to calm his libido down a little bit considering this wasn’t sexy time.

When he was down to his jeans and boxers, Stiles tapped one foot and hummed to himself, then tilted his head from side to side.

“I feel like you’d make a good Crowley, but I don’t want to be making out with him all night. Eh, we’ll go with Dean, we can do Destiel that way.”

“What even are you saying?” Derek asked with a sigh, but he just got a hand flapped at him to shut him up and Stiles disappeared from the room. He came back with clothes that had to belong to his father, and then wrestled them onto Derek.

He had to wrestle them onto him because Derek made absolutely no move to help him. He just let Stiles manhandle him how he wanted and finished the look off with a coat. Stiles tried to tweak his hair a little, then gave up and turned to dig through his closet, pulling out an obviously fake shotgun and tossing it to Derek.

“There. Now you’re comfortable, and dressed up.”

“Am I an angel, too?”

“No, you’re a hunter.”

Derek’s expression soured and Stiles winced. He bounced back over to Derek, angel wings flapping slightly, and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him lightly.

“Different kind of hunter, I promise. A good hunter. Who is totally banging the mega hot angel.” Stiles waggled his eyebrows and Derek rolled his eyes.

“I doubt they’re banging.”

“Not on screen, anyway.” He slapped Derek’s ass and turned, hitting him in the face with one of his wings.

That was going to be fun all night.

“Come on, let’s go or we’re gonna be late.”

“Heaven forbid,” Derek said. Stiles just turned to grin at him while going down the stairs, wiggling slightly so his wings flapped.

Derek rolled his eyes again. “Wasn’t there a demon character you could’ve been instead?”

“Hey now, don’t be like that.” Stiles opened the front door and grinned. “Haven’t you heard, Derek? The horns are just there to keep the halo straight.” [1]

“Uh huh.” Derek led the way out of the house and down towards the Camaro. Stiles was going to have to take those wings off in the car or they were going to get crushed.

It was going to be a long night, but Derek felt like he wouldn’t mind it so much. After all, once the party was over, he could take Stiles home and find out just how angelic he truly was.

He definitely wouldn’t mind Stiles taking him to heaven.

END.

[1] Full disclosure, I love this quote, I see it around, but idk who coined it so I can’t credit them. But I see it around a lot and it always makes me laugh – and fits Stiles to a T. (Also, my Supernatural knowledge is fairly limited as I haven’t seen many of the seasons, but I do at least know Destiel is like, a massive thing online!)

[fangirlhaley]

Broken Halos

Characters: Dean Winchester x Castiel, Sam Winchester

Summary: Some scars will last a lifetime and they’re always the worst ones to remind us of our mistakes. What could have been. What we’ve lost.

Word Count: 2,304

Enjoy.

If you REALLY want to pain yourself, here is the song that the title came from.

Seen my share of broken halos Folded wings that used to fly They've all gone wherever they go Broken halos that used to shine

Dean knew that being a hunter had its consequences. He had stayed in his fair share of shitty motel rooms. Had his fair share of fast food consumed in the Impala that made his health decline with every bite, Sam claimed. He experienced loss. He experienced pain. He experienced regret. While hunting had its consequences though, it also had its rewards. He saw the country with his brother Sam. He saved people from the monstrous beings that roamed the earth. He met Cas.

Castiel was an angel of the lord who saved Dean from the fiery pits of hell. Dean had the scar to prove it, a handprint that was etched into his shoulder. A constant reminder of the bond that the two shared. A bond that no one could ever come between, no matter how hard they tried. Cas helped on hunts occasionally and his abilities always came in handy when the boys were in situations that they had no hope in. The angel would come in, fighting off the bad guys like a cheesy action movie hero. Dean was grateful, but it was hard for the older Winchester to ever show his feelings. It always had been hard for him to show his feelings. Dean was thankful for so many things that had happened over the years, good and bad, but there were things that he wished he could forget. The day Cas left was one of those things.

It was a hunt. A simple hunt. The brothers had been tailing on some signs of a demon outbreak in Sioux Falls. It was the usual. Cattle mutilations, mysterious smells of sulfur and citizen acting out in strange and mysterious ways. Dean was confident, and Sam was too. Cas was along for the ride and Dean’s heart couldn’t be happier to have his angel by his side.

Cas stared out the window at the passing scenery as Dean drove the Impala down the desolate road. Sam drifted off to sleep against the cool window in the backseat, his arms folded into his body as if to keep himself warm. The only sounds were from the classic rock station that softly played from the Impala’s radio and the hum of the engine as Dean drove. He found his free hand resting on the seat near Cas’ and eventually the older Winchester intertwined their fingers together. It wasn’t something out of the normal. The shared hand brushes, the glances across the table in the library at the bunker, the hand holding when one of them needed a little reassuring. Though neither of them outright said it, they loved each other. Cas had made it known to Dean multiple times, Dean just had a hard time admitting his feelings. He had a hard time admitting his feelings to anyone.

“It is going to be fine, Dean.” Castiel assured him, keeping his gaze out the window but squeezing Dean’s hand gently as they drove. The angel finally looked over to him, giving him a small smile of reassurance.

“I know, we’ve done this plenty of times,” Dean sighs. “I just never know when a hunt is going to be my last. Every day it gets closer and closer to the end it feels like.”

“I wouldn’t let them hurt you. You know that.” Castiel mumbled a little and Dean let go of his hand to let him focus on the road.

And Cas was right. He wouldn’t let anything hurt Dean. He wouldn’t let anyone, or anything so much as lay a hand on Dean. He was Dean’s protector and he was expected to do his job. While this was his greatest quality, it was also his tragic flaw. The one thing that everyone has that makes them weak. Cas’ weakness was Dean and Dean’s well being and it was obvious.

The trio made it to, yet another, shitty motel that they would be staying in for the week and Dean woke Sam up from his slumber so they could get the bags from the car moved into the motel room. The room smelled of beer and smoke and Castiel made a face as he walked in behind Dean. It wasn’t much but it would do for the week. Sam slung his bag to the floor before sitting down on the bed.

“I’m starving,” He mumbled. “I’ll go get us some food.” He offered with a smile as he took the key to Baby from Dean. He lectured the younger Winchester for probably the millionth time about how priceless the car was and to treat her with care. Sam dismissed his lecturing with the wave of his hand as he left out the front door.

“I’m exhausted,” Dean let out a yawn as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The man struggled to keep his eyes open but knew he needed to at least until Sammy returned.

“You should sleep, Dean.” Cas said from his spot in the desk chair across the room. “I’ll keep watch. Sleep.” He said before turning his attention to the window. The angel moved the curtains out of the way a bit to look out into the desolate parking lot. Dean didn’t want to sleep, afraid of what might happen in his state of slumber, but at the same time he was exhausted, and a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Eventually, the older Winchester was cuddled up in the musty motel blankets while Castiel sat in the chair across the room to keep watch. He didn’t need to sleep but watching Dean sleep was one of his favorite things to do. Castiel loved the way his chest slowly and delicately rose and fell with each breath he took. His lips slightly parted and his emerald green eyes closed to the light of the world. Sometimes Dean would let out a soft snore and other times he would sleep silently and peacefully. Either way, Cas loved to watch him. So that’s what he did as he waited for Sam to arrive with food for Dean.

It was around 11:30 when the knock on the door came and Dean was still fast asleep. Castiel stood, assuming the knock was Sam who needed help with the take out that he brought from a restaurant down the street. Instead of being greeted though by the younger Winchester, Castiel’s blue eyes were met with coal black ones that stood at the door and eyed the hunter who was asleep in the bed in the room. By instinct at this point, Castiel pulled out his blade from the tan trench coat that he adorned, and he took a swing at the demon.

When the lamp sitting by the door crashed to the motel carpet and shattered, Dean was pulled out of his sleep and he sat up in bed. The room was a mess and he wondered why he hadn’t woken up sooner. His eyes drifted to the curtain that were shredded and the broken chair that was laying in the corner by the air conditioner. Cas’ chair. Cas. Where was Cas? Dean frantically kicked the blankets from his body, calling out for the angel and starting to make his rounds around the room. The hunter found Castiel by the window, laying in the rubble of the broken chairs and weak like an injured animal that had gone off to hide to pass away in peace. Dean rushed to his side quickly, kneeling beside the angel and lifting his head up gently. His blue eyes were closed, and Dean felt some tears start to form in his own green eyes.

“Cas?” He managed to choke out, slapping his cheek gently to wake him up. “Cas, please.” Dean practically begged. He prayed, and he prayed hard. To who, he didn’t know. Whoever would listen and bring back his angel. Castiel coughed, his eyes opening partially, and Dean quickly repositioned the man in his arms. “Cas. Cas hey.” He said, forcing a smile onto his worrisome face. “Cas stay with me okay? It’s going to be okay.” Dean said and picked up the angel, laying him down on the bed that Dean had once occupied himself. Castiel was weak and it was obvious, but Dean didn’t want to admit it. He knew that the angel would heal himself. Everything would be fine. Everything would go back to normal.

Right?

“Angel….angel blade….,” Castiel coughed out and Dean frowned even deeper.

“What?” He asked and shook his head in protest. “Cas, you’re going to be fine, okay? Remember what you told me in the car? Everything is going to be okay. It always is okay.”

But Dean knew that it wasn’t okay. Not this time. Not from an angel blade wound. Cas’ complexion was slowly going from vibrant and lively to cold and empty. Dean didn’t want to admit that he would see it, but he could. Where was Sam? He would know what to do. Dean didn’t. Dean never knew what to do. Sure, he read the lore books and he researched just as much as Sam but, Sam always seemed to know more. Dean chalked it up to the college education and to him that was nothing to compete with. He didn’t know what to do so he did all he could. All he could do was hold Castiel and try to comfort him.

“Cas, it’s going to be okay.” He mumbled and tried his best to not cry in front of the angel that was cradled in his arms.

“Dean, no…” Cas mumbled and tried to push the man away. Dean didn’t listen though and he kept the withering angel held close to his body for comfort.

“Just relax. Sammy will be here soon, he’ll know what to do.” Dean frowned and pushed some of Castiel’s hair away from his forehead. “it’s going to be okay.”

“Dean, No.” Castiel repeated and tried to push himself away from the hunter’s body and Dean was confused.

“Dammit, Cas! Just let me help you!” Dean choked out, afraid of what was to come. “Why do you always have to be like this!” He yelled out of fear and anger. Castiel only continued his attempts at pushing his body away from Dean’s grasp.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you, Dean.” Cas frowned and pushed his hand hard against Dean’s chest. The hunter’s grip on the angel though was tight and he swore that Cas wouldn’t leave his presence. He swore that he would keep him close to his body and comfort him in his time of need.

“Cas, you’re the one that’s hurt.” Dean pointed out but he was oblivious to what the angel was saying. “You’re not hurting me.”

“I’m not hurting you yet, Dean. But I will. I swear I will. Just let go…” He mumbled out and his blue eyes were starting to feel heavy. “Dean let go…” He demanded, pushing with all of his strength to get the hunter away from him but it was too late. Dean felt a hot burning on his skin and yelped in pain as a bright and blinding light filled the room.

Looking down at Castiel in his arms caused Dean to break down. If only he hadn’t fallen asleep. He would have been able to fight off whatever broke in and was stronger than his angel was. Cas was gone. It was obvious as his body had gone weak in Dean’s arms. He fought back his tears, looking down at the angel as he laid him on the frumpy bed sheets.

Dean’s skin burned hot and it pained him to even move a bit. He stood up, making his way to the bathroom to look in the mirror to find out where his pain was coming from. He tried to get the image of Cas slipping away in his arms out of his mind but the image kept revisiting himself. Dean turned the light on in the dingy bathroom, starring in horror at his reflection in the mirror. As if the image of Cas wasn’t enough to haunt him every day, his skin was blistered and red in the shape of feathered wings. Cas’ wings. The rest of the shadow that didn’t scar Dean was left on the headboard of the bed as well as the blankets and the wall next to the bed. Dean frantically rubbed the marks, trying to get them to leave his skin. He didn’t want the reminder. The reminder that he had failed yet again. He didn’t have a choice though and suddenly he realized that was why Castiel was trying to push him away. He was stained more than what he already was. Marked by the death of someone he loved unconditionally. Someone he would never be able to bring back or replace. He felt the tears again starting to flow down his face, choking on his own tears as he continued to rub at the marks left on his arms and his chest. Dean slid down the wall that sat perpendicular to the mirror, pulling his knees to his chest and crying into them.

He thought about the past. He thought about the forgotten words. He thought about the missed chances. He thought about how demons and other monsters must laugh at his expense, being forced to walk the Earth with a daily reminder of his lost love.

But most of all, he thought about how he never told Cas that he loved him.

Angels come down from the heavens Just to help us on our way Come to teach us, then they leave us And they find some other soul to save

[nonsensicalwisdom]

Day 5

Mary Bell’s Thoughts

“I swear Papa I seen it! Believe me please. Papa.” The little girl cried clinging onto her father’s pants.

The man shook the girl off with a kick of his leg.

“You lie! Enough! Go off!” The man huffed at the frightened little girl.

“Pa-“.

The man slapped the girl with the back of his hand. She fell onto the living room floor. The room rang with the thud and her mother came rushing in.

“What happened my baby? Tell mama what happened” The tall and slender woman asked while crouching down to the floor.

“I-I fell…that’s all.” The little girl covered her red stinging face with her hands collecting tears in her palms.

“Let me help...” The mother eased toward the child.

The little girl leapt up and ran off to her bedroom her shoes clapping against the wood floor and then followed a loud bang of the door. The girl gasped and whimpered the sound could be heard in the living room.

“That girl really must be careful.” The large dark man said while massaging the back of his hand.

The mother nodded at her husband her long black hair flowing onto her face. She pushed it back and met her husband Daniel’s eyes. The girl had not fallen as she had not fell the other times her husband had claimed. The thin woman swallowed her courage to stand up to him and walked back into the kitchen.

The little girl’s room was as by the book as it could ever be. Doll houses, books, stuffed animals and of course a tea set. On top of her desk was a marble notebook that read “Mary Bell’s Thoughts” it was where the girl would confide her deepest thoughts. Sort of like a journal but filled with more of her curiosities than her childhood wonder. Her journal was where she wrote down things she feared, things the church feared, and most importantly things her father told her did not exist. The man believed in his special God, her mother the same but to Mary Bell she had not quite been convinced until she met some friends over her last few years.

Mary sobbed into her pillow sucking in air every so often. She rubbed her eyes hard with her hands and got the strength to walk over to her mirror. The girl caught glimpse of her sadness and turned away she sat on the edge of her bed staring vaguely into the pink wall ahead of her.

The room grew colder and a draft hit the wetness on the young girl’s neck. She shivered.

“Mary?” a voice said softly.

Mary popped back into consciousness and looked over her shoulder and behind her. She could see a dark mass manifesting by her tea set.

 “Hi Mary.” A young girl’s voice exclaimed.

“Hello Honey!” This time and older woman.

“Let’s have some tea!” another young child’s voice insisted.

Several voices began speaking toward the little girl.

Mary walked over to the table pulled a seat out and looked around the table. A few familiar faces came to fruition.

“Hello guys.” Mary said soothingly.

Four friendly faces took the place of stuffed animals in the seats around the tables. There was one-woman Hildy, two little girls Jana and Rita and a man named Martin. Hildy was a heavy-set woman who used to be the nanny to Jana and Rita. Martin was Hildy’s husband who was the groundskeeper while his wife and himself began working for the Lewis family.  Jana and Rita were twins around the age of Mary at about 8 years old and Martin was a scruffy fellow with a grey beard and a bald head. The group giggled around the table and exchanged pleasantries toward Mary pretending to drink tea and making her laugh with silly impressions. They had witnessed what had happened downstairs but waited for Mary to talk.

“Mary, my darling. Tell me about your day?” Hildy asked.

“Please do.” Jana begged.

“Oh yes please do.” Rita added.

“I seen something today.” Mary whispered.

“What did you see dear?” Martin asked.

The table eased in and waited as Mary danced around her thoughts.

The girl finally grew up the courage to answer.

“I seen something. I seen something in the sky and I can not explain it. Papa won’t talk to me about it. I know he seen it too but why he won’t believe me. Why does he hit me? Why does he tell me to shut up?”

Tears began to stream down the girl’s soft skin.

“Oh honey.” Hildy said with remorse.

“I seen it. I seen it with my own two eyes. A man came down from the sky. He had long tentacles that hung down, oh and he had wings, he looked like he was made of metal but he had a face. A real face. He smiled. I swear he smiled at me. And…and he had a halo a big glowing halo! A halo like Jesus! I wonder if we seen Jesus.”

Martin and Hildy turned to one another then back to the three little girls.

“It is time Hildy.” Martin said nodding at his wife.

Hildy looked at each girl and said, what you are experiencing is and maybe could’ve been your only experience with the supernatural? Actually…well…”

Martin hushed Hildy.

“I will do this.” He paused.

“You know before bed when you pray to God?” Martin continued.

All three girls eased in on the question.

“Yes. I love God.” Mary chimed in.

“Yes, you do…well so does your Mommy and so does your Daddy so what happens sometimes is mommy’s and daddy’s make you believe what they believe and anything outside of that is wrong. Like when your daddy sees what you saw but doesn’t believe you and hits you.”

“Honey, sometimes we are taught things to help us better understand our placement on Earth, our purpose in life even when it doesn’t make sense. It just makes a lot of people feel better.” Hildy reassured.

“Yes. Like when you don’t tell Dad what you seen he feels better because everything he had known in his life isn’t challenged. Your mom and dad think they know what is right for you, they think they are protecting you.”

“Protecting me?”

“Yes, protecting you from people like us.” Martin added.

“Like us?” Rita said.

“Girls we have a lot to talk about.” Martin said.

“We are dead.” Hildy continued.

Jana and Rita looked at one another and looked at Mary. The twins touched one another then put their hands on Mary’s shoulder. The twins could feel one another but not the young girl.

 “Is Mary dead too?” Jana asked.

 “Mary is alive, by Earth’s standards but for all I know, and for all you know, she may be dead and us alive but as we speak myself, Hildy, Jana and Rita are ghosts.” Martin answered.

“You’re haunting me?”

“No, we love you. Consider us more as your spirit guides?” Hildy.

“So, what did I see?”

“You know when you turn the dial on the radio you tune into a frequency that plays the station you want to listen to. Each station has it’s own number. Well life is pretty much just like that. Sometimes a few different stations are tuned in at the same time, just in different places and it just so happens that our world can collide with other worlds. “

“But-what about you? Why do you stay here?”

“We are the exception. I mean Hildy, do you think I should tell the girls the story?” Martin hesitated.

“Please.” Rita begged.

“Alright. Well we used to tend the house and land of the Lewis family about 100 years ago. It seems this land was built upon by some unsavory folks. This used to be an ancient site. That lake back there was very sacred to the Native people up until Mr. J.D. Lewis, Rita and Jana’s grandfather, threw them off and built this fine house. Things were ok for awhile but not very long. The spirits of the slain Natives are buried beneath the Earth, their spirits apart of the sky, and they are not happy with the bloodshed. So, for a century those who have inhabited this home have gone through some weird experiences. In other words, Hildy, Jana, Rita and myself we are product of some bad energy. And it isn’t our energy we got stuck in all the bad that has happened on this land.”

“Huh? Bad energy?” Mary questioned.

“Girls do you mind if we tell you what happened to your parents?”

The twins nodded in unison.

“And you Mary?”

“Please.”

“When Mr. Jonathon Lewis lived here with your mother Louise everything was great. They asked for Hildy and me to care and look after the land we gladly did so because it was an honor to work for such a prominent family and who else better than us? We grew up here, we knew the land, the neighbors, it was such a fine community. But we were weary about this house. We heard things. Unsettling things about the history of violence and pain on these lands from on Navajo all the way to the poor slaves. There was a lot of negative energy here and ladies I feel it even though I have no more feelings left.”

Martin shook.

 “Rita, Jana before you were born your grandmother was taken from this Earth by the hands of her husband. One day he just snapped like a twig and went after Louise. He left her body in the corn fields bloody and beaten. The case was never closed he blamed it on a slave, but we all knew it was him. He drank and he could be downright mean to anyone to even talk back to him on his property. He was not the most liked. Anyway, after he passed your father J.D. moved in with your Mother Shana and they began to rejuvenate the land. You should have seen how neglected and ravished it was but now to think about it maybe that is what the ground needed…a break. But we moved in and shortly after you ladies were born the two sweetest things in the world your mother cared and nurtured for came to existence and that’s you two. Sometimes I don’t even know what I was hired for your beautiful mother never needed my help. I think she wanted the company.”

The twins smiled from across the table clinging on too every world from Hildy’s mouth.

“Then… there was your father. You want to pick up from here Martin?”

“Your father was a good man, a really good man but he had a drinking problem at this point we could call it a product of his environment or a vice inherited from his daddy, from his daddy and on to the next daddy. He never meant no harm, but he slowly began to change over the ten years of you girl’s lives. He seemed out of touch, anxious and jumpy as if something was looking over his shoulder. The man was prepared for something. In those last few months after you girls’ birthday things began to really get bad...”

....tbc

[scrollingkingfisher]

I’ve FINALLY gotten around to completing another piece for the @gabriel-monthly-challenge! 

A big happy birthday to the masterminds behind this operation, @lacqueluster and @archangel-with-a-shotgun! I’m sorry I wasn’t around at the time, so consider this a late birthday gift ;)

A massive thank you as usual to @theriverscribe for helping me beta this, without you my writing would be half as long and twice as boring, you’re the best <3

Light at the End of the Tunnel 

A03 Rating; T    

Words; 2190

s5e19 Hammer of the Gods Fix-it

“All that bravado, all those witty comebacks…Just to hide how terrified you really are.” It's time for Gabriel's final showdown with Lucifer, and he knows how this is going to play out. But this time, Sam makes a decision that will change everything.

Tap… tap… tap…

The tip of the archangel blade rapped the floor with a series of metallic clicks as Gabriel bounced his leg. He’d been sitting here for hours, barely moving, his attention on a recently magically renovated hotel across the country. The omens were all there. The storm, the animal deaths, the chaos of beings and elements. There was something big coming, with global repercussions that would shake the firmament of the universe itself. He’d known it was coming since the dawn of time. And now it was here.

With a tired sigh Gabriel let his senses retreat back to his vessel and rubbed his hands over his face. So there was no avoiding it, then.

It was too easy to just blame the Winchesters. Heaven’s meddling had brought it to this point. The boys were born and bred for just this purpose, like livestock raised for slaughter. But Gabriel had tried so hard this time.

He looked around the little flat that had been his home base since around the seventies. It had always seemed a safe haven before, but now the place felt darker, emptied. Shadows lurked in strange places over familiar furniture, as though all colour had been sucked from the rooms. Even his dog was gone, dropped off at a reliable shelter the week before. There was nothing left for him here.

Gabriel shivered. Standing, he flicked his blade back into nonexistence and grabbed the nearest DVD. He quickly altered it to give the message he wanted to pass along, his mouth twitching into the ghost of a smile as he realised he'd picked out a porno. Well, that would serve those two blockheads right.

He took a shuddering breath. Spreading his wings, he flew, alighting outside the ballroom of the Elysian Fields hotel. Then he pushed the doors open and sauntered in. Showtime.

“Can't we all just get along?”

                                                       .o0o.

Trying to seduce Kali was a catastrophe of epic proportions. He got away by the skin of his teeth, but he would bet his halo that she hadn't been quite as taken in by his ruse as she had pretended to be to the other gods. Despite her fiery temper (pun intended), she had always had something of a soft spot for him.

He knew he couldn’t run, though. Not when he still had his part to play. Instead, he hid in the peaceful, well-warded darkness of the back of the Winchester’s car until Dean found him.

He wasn’t even paying attention to most of the conversation with the big lug, but it caught his notice when Dean said challengingly, “Is it that you can’t help us take down Lucifer? Or that you won’t?”

Gabriel gave him his best condescending look of disgust over the seat. “You idiot. You know what happens when Lucifer and Michael have their party. What do you think would happen if Lucifer and I threw down? Let me give you a visual aid; imagine North America, gone. Probably a good chunk of Canada and Mexico, too. Imagine the oceans boiling, the icecaps melting, and clouds of ash blocking out the sun for years. But sure, go ahead. If it’s an extinction event you want, I can deliver.”

Dean at least had the grace to look a little ashamed. “Oh. Um…”

Gabriel waved a hand tiredly. “Oh, forget it. You’d better get back in there before they start the summoning.” Dean glanced at him again, then started to get out of the car. “Wait-” Dean stopped, looking back at him. “Just… try not to screw up too much, alright?” It was as much of a pep talk as he could give without giving too much away. He wished that he could have had a few words with the younger Winchester too, a chance to explain himself for the Mystery Spot and TV land, but there just wasn’t time.

Dean frowned, but nodded. Gabriel watched him stride across the darkened lot and closed his eyes. In the distance, he felt something immense and cold start to move towards them.

                                                       .o0o.

“You okay?” Dean was saying to Sam as Gabriel appeared.

“Not really.” Both of the humans jumped and spun to look at him, and he gave them a rueful smile. “Better late than never, huh?” He slapped the altered DVD against Dean's chest. “Guard this with your life.” With that he stood, turned, and sent a wave of grace towards his brother, powerful enough to knock his vessel off its feet.

“Luci, I'm home!”

Lucifer was back on his feet in a second, but he stopped when he saw Gabriel. His eyes widened in surprise, then joy. He stepped forwards, arms outstretched to embrace.

It hurt to look at him, this broken, stained creature that had been his brother. The light that had shone so brightly before was now dim. His once-glorious wings clumped and ragged like a bird caught in an oil slick. But as much as the cage had wounded him, Gabriel knew that Lucifer was still deadly. Gabriel raised his archangel blade, a defensive move that they had used on each other time and again back in heaven while they were play fighting. Lucifer faltered.

“Not this time.” Gabriel pulled Kali to her feet, careful to keep his eyes on Lucifer as the others edged towards the door behind him.

Lucifer’s arms slowly lowered, his gaze freezing over once more. Gabriel reminded himself that this was his destiny he’d chosen for himself. He had to do this.

Lucifer watched with a little disappointment as the humans vanished. “Really, Gabriel. Playing with the Pagans? Daddy would be disappointed.”

Gabriel didn't rise to the bait. “Lucifer, you're my brother and I love you. But you're a great big bag of dicks.”

“What did you just say to me?” The pure disbelief on his face was almost funny.

“Look at yourself! Boohoo, daddy was mean to me, so I'm gonna smash up all his toys!”

Lucifers scowl grew darker. “Watch your tone,”

But Gabriel wasn't done. The fear still clogging his throat was turning into annoyance. If he was going to die here, he was going to say his piece first. “play the victim all you want. But you and me? We know the truth. Dad loved you best, more than Michael, more than me. Then he brought the new baby home, and you couldn't handle it. So all of this is just one big temper tantrum. Time to grow up.”

“Gabriel, if you're doing this for Michael-”

Gabriel felt a burst of temper. Hadn’t he shown, millennia ago, that he had no interest in siding with Michael? “Oh, screw him! If he were standing here, I'd shiv his ass too!”

Lucifer’s face was incredulous, as though he had never even thought of this as a possibility. “You disloyal-”

“Oh, I'm loyal alright! To them, lucifer. To humanity. To people.” They began slowly circling each other. Gabriel thought just maybe, if he could get Lucifer to understand...

Lucifer frowned in genuine confusion. “So you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches. Why?”

“Because dad was right. They are better than us.”

Lucifer’s face contorted. “But they're broken, flawed abortions!”

This was hopeless. Lucifer was never going to understand. He was never going to see humanity as anything more than something that needed exterminating. “Damn right they're flawed. But a lot of them try. To do better, to forgive. I've been riding the pine for a long time. But I'm back in the game now. And I'm not on your side, or Michael’s. I'm on theirs.”

“Brother, don't make me do this.” Lucifer looked almost sorry.

This was it. Gabriel squared his shoulders. “No one makes us do anything.” Silently, he flew behind Lucifer, leaving a copy in his wake. He let his blade slide out of his sleeve.

“I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel. But I know where your heart truly lies. All that bravado, all those witty comebacks… just to hide how terrified you really are.” Lucifer stepped closer, his eyes clear and hard and fractured like ice crystals, “You know you can’t beat me, little brother. You don’t dare even fight me. Not if you want your little human friends to live.”

The worst part was that he was right; Gabriel was terrified. He didn't want to die. He wanted desperately to live, but that just wasn't in the Plan.

His aim had been to distract Lucifer for as long as possible but now he faltered, just for a second. Because, deep down, he still saw Lucifer as his beloved older brother.

Gabriel lunged.

He was fast. But Lucifer was faster.

It didn't feel like pain at first; it felt like cold. Terrible, biting cold, digging right to the centre of him. The shock of it made him gape, staring down at the hilt buried in his chest, and then up into Lucifer’s face, so close to his.

Gabriel clutched desperately at Lucifer’s jacket, fingers scrabbling against the fabric. The shadows were creeping into the corners of Gabriel's vision even as the Grace in his heart roiled hotter and hotter. His knees were giving out, heart breaking as he looked up into his beloved brother’s face, eyes wide and pleading. Lucifer stared back, and Gabriel’s heart shattered when he saw the tears gathering in them.

His big brother was still in there. His brother was killing him.

Lucifer's lips trembled as he spoke. “You see, amateur hocus pocus. Don't forget, little brother; you got all your best tricks from me.”

Gabriel heard the broken, hurt little noise that escaped his lips.

There was a concussive bang as the door of the room flew open. Both of the archangels startled a little as they turned to look, Gabriel grimacing as the blade dragged against his ribs.

There, standing in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of him with his mouth open and his eyes darting, was none other than Sam Winchester.

A wave of desperate frustration temporarily flooded out Gabriel’s pain. That moron! Did he want to be possessed or killed!? But luckily Lucifer just stood there, looking as confused as Gabriel felt. He mouthed ‘run!’ at the kid, desperately hoping he'd take the hint and get out of there. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

Then, Sam did something that shocked Gabriel to his core. He lifted his chin, and shouted a single word into the deafening silence.

“Yes!”

The word seemed to ring through the room like a struck bell.

Gabriel couldn't believe his ears. He was stunned. Had Sam really- had he really just done that? Just given up? The concept just didn't make sense, the world lurching sideways off its rails. Sam wasn't supposed to say the big YES here, not now, not tonight. There was meant to be more. There had to be more.

No, really, there had to be. Gabriel had spent a whole year trapped with Sam. He knew him. For better or worse, Sam was stubborn to a fault, he would never give up. So what was he doing? What was his plan?

Sam spoke again. “Yes, Gabriel! Do it now!”

And suddenly, like a beam of divine light, he got it.

Sam would never let Lucifer possess him. But apparently, he cared enough about Gabriel to save him.

In the middle of his disbelief, Gabriel felt a sort of hysterical, giddy laughter bubbling up inside himself. The Winchesters had done it again. Every time he thought it was no longer possible, they kept on telling destiny to go screw itself in ever more inventive ways. And this time, just maybe, it might work out for him too.

There was no time to lose. Gathering himself, he leapt out of the broken shell of his vessel, revelling momentarily in the release of his true form for the first time in long millennia. He hung there for a tiny fracture of a second and looked back at his brother, at the dawning realisation of what was happening and the terrible anger simmering to life in his eyes, then turned and plunged back down towards the human below him. He surged inside the vessel, occupying every inch of it, weaving himself into the lungs and heart and brain.

Oh, it had been too long since he had lived in a vessel that was alive, not some cheap replica of a god. There was so much room in here, room and power. He tried to ignore the way that Sam’s soul cringed away from him, flattening itself against the back of their shared headspace. He’d work on that. This would have to do for now, until he had time to heal. He stretched, feeling his wings burst from Sam’s back as he launched them through the dimensions.

With a single flap he was gone, landing in the front seat of the older brother’s car. “Drive,” he commanded, and whatever Dean saw in his eyes it was obviously enough to shut him up for the time being. They sped away, leaving the storm and his brother’s broken screams behind him.

[fictionerd]

Good to see you, friends! So this week’s episode opens exactly where the last one ended, and we get an extension on the conversation. Tsutsui makes the same arguments for his case I did last week. Namely that he’s socially inept and it’s hard for him to understand a problem if people don’t give him something other than inference to go on. Iroha, of course, is having none of it and tells him to just “think about it normally”. Let me take an aside here.

Iroha, you’re off base. This is the man who, when you told him you found men baking attractive, picked up a cookbook and learned to make sweets for you. WHEN YOU WERE ALREADY DATING! Dude went out and learned a skillset (Admittedly one that’s not hard to pick up if you learn how to follow recipes) for no other reason than he thought it’d make you happy. Give him something to run with and he will make your wildest dreams come true.

Tsutsui, While I AM defending you. I must say that you have seen far and away enough cheesy romance in anime that you should be able to pick up the cues here. I get that anime isn’t meant to be reflective of actual social interactions, and that usually you don’t want to pattern your behavior in these situations based on scenes from anime.In this ONE instance, however we have a textbook fucking scenario. You’re failing to reciprocate,dude! She keeps telling you she loves you. You feel too inferior to reply in kind. FIX THAT! (Yeah, I realized in the week+ since I watched the last episode that’s what she meant so my bad there).

So moving into the episode proper: Tsutsui meets back up with Ayado in the garden. (Does she actually attend classes or is she just always there?) They exchange awkward small talk based upon their final encounter from last episode, and before Tsutsui can take off to bury his head up his own ass she hands him a massive sack of potatoes. He takes the tubers then returns to tormenting his tortured psyche.

He’s really hung up on this whole “Iroha is mad at me and I can’t figure out why” thing. Then he has an epiphany. If there’s no way I can figure this out on my own then maybe I can get some help from a friend and so turns to Ito. However, Ito informs him that he has other things to do and says that Tsutsui and Iroha should just have lunch together on their own being apparently oblivious to how their relationship is going. When Tsutsui discovers that Ito’s been spending time with a cat instead of him he jumps to the conclusion that Ito has somehow snapped due to loneliness and makes an ass of himself.

When Ito calls him out for his insensitive, self-centered behavior it shatters him and he has to spend some time later that night having a flashback to come to a realization about what to do.

He remembers the halcyon days of his Chuunibyo when he was a back-corner loner who constantly had earphones in listening to, no doubt, the choicest of epic soundtracks in preparation for the day he was finally crowned the King of all Demon hosts.

Turns out that back then he was even MORE of an antisocial jerkbucket, by which I mean he was a jerkbucket intentionally rather than the unintentional jerkbucketry we’ve been treated to this episode. At first he slapped away any attempt at friendship because “Anyone who’s interested in you is doing it out of some desire to fix you and not out of genuine kindness. I’m just waiting for the day you assholes all sprout angelic wings and halos and attempt to Save my soul by beating me senseless with divine armaments so I can finally unleash the hellfire within me to burn away all the haters!”

Later on we see that in spite of his stand-offish attitude he has this thing about repaying debts and so in return for Ito finding his headphones he actually shows up to a task he was assigned to do anyway. (Granted it was sort of forced on him). It’s here that he gets a real look at what the other guys in class think of Ito which naturally is something along the lines of “Ito’s a good dog. Show him a little kindness and he’ll be blindly loyal to you forever!” Naturally Tsutsui’s response is to say, “Well, how about it? Wanna ditch the heavenly host and come reign in hell with me!?”

Okay… I may be taking the Chuunibyo jokes too far particularly since it’s only based on a single comment by Ito at the end of the flashback. What really happens is that they walk home together because it’s raining and Ito offers to share his umbrella. They have a talk about how the rest of the class is using Ito as an excuse not to do homework and he’s just going along with it because he doesn’t want to be hated by everyone. Tsutsui tells him, “I don’t think you’ll die or anything if people hate you.”

This sage wisdom effects Ito in some profound manner so the next time the class bully is bugging Tsutsui and takes it into his head to destroy private property Ito actually stands up for him and gets beat up for his trouble. He then tells Tsutsui that it was because an issue of Animeid is worth 800 yen and when Tsutsui is shocked and asks how he knows Ito replies with. “You’re not the only Chuunibyo here.” Thus the source of my humor for this section was established.

Ito tells Tsutsui that he decided to give up on a lot of things and that wasn’t honest. He says he’ll make it up to him by hanging out with him from now on. Huh? Am I missing something here? The only person Ito has to make anything up to is himself. Oh whatever just roll with it.

Having remembered all of this in the time it took him to peel and apparently mash the potatoes Tsutsui decides that he doesn’t believe his Chuuni self. If Ito hates him he really will die.

Wow… Way to out-edge yourself there, Tsutsui.

I partially kid. I know what that feeling is like. When you feel like your only friends must hate your guts it can make you feel like you’ve got no reason to keep on going. So really while I mock that attitude I also understand it.

Tsutsui takes potato dumplings to school the next day by way of apology to Ito for failing to see beyond his own emotional needs and the two reconcile. You’d think this would trigger an epiphany in Tsutsui as to why Iroha’s been so angry, but NOPE! He rides a wave of momentum to her classroom and chickens out at the last second only to later look up her address and just show up on her doorstep like a stalker. Which he thankfully lampshades. Iroha noticed him standing forbodingly outside her house and asks what he wants and he offers her peace-offering dumplings as well.

[sighs] Do I have to cover this? It feels like it’s a farce and resolves absolutely nothing. Okay, FINE! You’re right it’s in the charter and this is already super late.

Okay, he says he wants to apologize, but he can’t really do that if he doesn’t know what’s wrong then tries to peace out. She responds with…

Anyway she invites him up to her room. He takes the opportunity to… Lay his head on her bed and smell it? Is that a thing? I just… Don’t get it. Does he not clean his sheets very often? Is that what that’s about? Whatever… Let’s get to the meat of this bit.

He’s apparently super scandalized when he realizes she wears low-necklines and short skirts at home. Dude, just how distrusting of humanity are you? [remembers his chuunibyo jokes from earlier] Right, fair enough. Dude’s sheltered as all hell moving on.

Iroha tells him the reason she was mad is because she felt he didn’t trust her. Like no matter how many times she told him she loved him, he never seemed to believe she meant it. He responds that he can’t help but believe her it’s just the circumstances he can’t believe. They kiss he mentally stammers in disbelief about his situation. They engage in possibly the least intimate looking hug I’ve ever seen…

Then he snaps at the mere thought of being sexually attracted to someone. I’m not kidding. He thinks ‘ I can’t’ seemingly topples to a compromising position and then flips out and runs the hell away apologizing profusely and berates himself for being “dangerous” because he was sexually attracted to this girl who he is romantically attracted to and whom he is FUCKING DATING!

The next day when they meet at the shoe lockers in the morning he runs away AGAIN saying “Don’t come near me for the time being”

After said massive freakouts, Tsutsui somehow thinks it’s a good idea to bring dumplings to Ayado. All I have to say is: “Don’t do this! Please for the love of all that is holy, don’t do this! I see what you’re trying to do. She’s going to have followed him or otherwise be looking on and get the wrong idea. Don’t you DO IT!”

GOD DAMMIT!

Okay… First some positive. I was wrong about my assumptions as to where this would go last week and for that I apologize. It seems they weren’t planning to sacrifice Iroha’s character to the great god known only as “plot”. On to the bad parts though.

Iroha is projecting like hell onto Tsutsui. She talks a big deal about how she doesn’t feel like he trusts her, and then the next day when he makes an admittedly bone-headed move she automatically assumes the worst. Or at least that’s how they seem to be painting it and if there’s one thing I hate it’s over-reactionary romantic syndrome. Fortunately we have the terrible judge of character Ishino to act as our litmus test and go forth on a tirade FOR Iroha. Hopefully when she goes on the warpath Iroha will twig to the line of logic established about Ishino being a terrible judge of character and realize that maybe she ought to ASK what the situation was between Tsutsui and Ayado.

Of course I can’t just let that be all I say on the matter because Iroha isn’t the only one being an idiot here. Tsutsui… Why are you being this way? Why are you terrified of the thought that you could be sexual attracted to this lady whom you are also romantically attracted to? I mean maybe the argument could be made that he’s asexual, but that doesn’t seem to be the case and this is Japan we’re talking about here. (Though admittedly if that does turn out to be the case and they manage to sort through that I’d be super impressed.)

I mean Ito does appear to be a feline other-kin and potentially a cat-whisperer so maybe that’s the direction they’ll go, I’m just not in the habit of hearing hooves in Central Park and assuming Zebra. Unless it’s for comedic effect of course.

[Sighs] Maybe I’m just not empathetic enough. I need to take a break. What do I have to do next for catchup duty.

[whispering off “screen”]

Butlers x Battlers!? I need a drink >: { Until next post, keep talking fiction, friends! I’ll see you soon.

[salty-dracon]

TMX- Chapter Two

Chapter One

The world was entirely different from the one outside the train station. Grass covered the ground outside a stone fence, surrounding a cobblestone cul-de-sac. At the opposite end of the circle was an enormous Texas-style mansion, complete with numerous windows, crossbars, fountains, potted plants, and balconies, framed by a setting sun in the background. 

“Welcome home.“ Grey bowed to Brooke as she gazed upon the scene. “This place was designed for you to enjoy.“

“Wow... “ Brooke looked around. The rest of the world seemed so dark and bleak outside the fence. Brooke felt a certain dread as she saw shadows fall over the grass before Grey pulled her inside the mansion. 

The inside of the mansion was no less impressive than the outside. The floor was a beautiful beige, framed with an ornate rug. Most of the downstairs walls were covered in bookshelves, with a sitting area in one corner. Twin stairways winded up towards a second floor, which seemed to be dotted with identical rooms. A chandelier dangled above them both. 

“All of this-“

“All of this is yours, dear Brooke.“ He smiled. “The library is where I’ve spent most of my time for the past sixteen years. Upstairs is where the other visiting rooms are. There is also a room for the both of us. Just the way you like it.“

Brooke nodded.

“First of all, you must be thirsty.“

Brooke nodded, still admiring the ornate furnishings. 

Grey clapped his hands twice. Brooke caught sight of a small golden ring floating towards them. 

“The Haloes will get us anything we need.“ Grey touched its edge. “A glass of water.“

The Halo rotated in midair and floated off to somewhere in the left wing of the house. 

“Come now.” Grey led Brooke to the library, and let her sit down. “Please, my love, you may now relax. Nothing will hurt you here. I’m sure you’re tired, and at the same time, I’m sure you have questions. I’ll answer them whenever you please.“

Brooke reclined on the couch and closed her eyes. She felt Grey’s hands tuck a blanket around her body, and heard the soft clink of the glass of water being placed on the nearby glass table. The spots of red and orange she saw under her eyelids faded to black as Grey turned one of the lamps off. 

.....

.....

....

...

..

.

Brooke’s eyes slowly opened. She reached for the glass of water sitting in front of her and quenched her urgent thirst. The icy cold liquid tasted sweet to her parched lips. She placed the glass down and flopped against the couch. 

“Waking up?“ Grey walked down the steps. “You’re certainly tired, my dear.“

“Who are you again?“ Brooke asked.

“My name is Grey de Aur, and I’m your guardian angel. Don’t you remember me saying so?“

“Right.“ Brooke sighed. “Grey. My guardian angel.“

“It’s not surprising that you’re still in disbelief of all of this. You’ll get used to it, though.“ He smiled as he laid another blanket on Brooke’s body. “It’s okay. I’m happy that you’re with me.” He leaned over her. “May I?”

“May you... what?“

“Kiss your forehead.“

“...Sure... “

Grey softly kissed Brooke’s forehead before kneeling down beside her. “You’re a very sweet girl, Brooke. I’ve known it all my life.”

“What do you mean, your life?“

“The human body is born from a mother.“ Grey pulled a chair next to her couch. “But the soul is born from another womb. There is no name for it, in all of its infinite beauty. It is a womb as old as time, which gives birth to souls. However, souls are meant to split into two parts. One half travels to Earth, to enter the body of a baby capable of handling it. The other half travels to Heaven, where it creates itself a body. The first half is a human. The second half is the guardian angel, created to watch over the human. 

Our souls split many years ago- my half went to heaven, yours became you. I arrived already knowing my purpose, you searching for it. Your heart was naive, mine already matured with the wisdom of ages. Thus,“ he said, smiling, “I am your twin brother, though by a bond closer than blood. The moments I chose to wander away from my duty, I created this living space for the two of us.“

“Yes.“ Brooke rubbed the sheets. “I love it.“

“Then I have done my duty well.“ He beamed again. “All that remains is your promise to me.”

“When did I promise anything?“ Brooke asked.

“You said you’d let me gaze into your beautiful eyes.“ Grey leaned over her, blushing gently. “Look into mine, my love. Aren’t they beautiful too? Just like yours.“

“... What do you mean?“

“My eyes, Brooke. Please, just look into them. Nothing bad will happen, I promise.“

“Woah woah woah. I’m not- I never promised anything to you.“

“Didn’t you?“

“No!“

Grey nodded. “All right. But may I, someday?” His voice was that of a man’s, yet carried the qualities of a child’s- hopeful and naive.

Brooke made no motion of refusal, nor of permission. The conductor’s words still rang in her ears. Whatever she did, she thought, she could not look into his eyes.

“I understand.“ Grey pulled himself next to her on the couch. “Is there anything more you’d like to know?“

Brooke nodded. “Is there anything to do here?“

“The marketplace, although I recommend we not go there.“

“Why not?“

“The people there may be a bad influence on you.“ He stroked her hair. “We have all the time in the world here, right now.“

“So can I invite Julien and Arthur over?“

“Not now.“

“Why not?“

“They’re likely still adjusting to home. Give them a day or two, and then I will consider it. I’m sure they’re getting along just fine with their guardians.“

-----

“Come, Julien. Take your clothes off.“

“Fuck off.“ Julien curled up in a large, fancy, king-sized bed. “You can’t make me.“

“What kinds of- Julien, you look like a girl!“ Amelia stood over them, holding a green and black bathrobe.

“I look like me.“ Julien pulled their jacket tighter over their body. “Don’t call me a boy. I’m not a boy. I’m an enby.“

“You’re not an enby, you’re the boy I’ve always thought you were.“ Amelia sat across from them on the bed. “Why didn’t you do what the conductor said? Why didn’t you give the conductor your jacket?“

“The fuck’s wrong with keeping my jacket, you bitch?!“

“Don’t call me a bitch!“ Amelia screeched. 

“Well, fuck you for calling me a boy! If you’ve really been watching me my entire life, you’d know how I really feel about myself!“

“Julien, I’m doing this because I love-“

“Fuck your love! If you knew jack shit about me-“

“I know everything about you!“

“So you’re in denial then?!“

“You’re the one in denial!“

“If I’m a boy to you, you’re a bitch to me! That’s it!“

“I’m in control here! I can control everything in this plane! You’re under my care and you’ll be exactly what I want you to be!“

“You stupid slut!“

----

Arthur’s eyes opened. He was lying on a bed, covered in white sheets. The world around him was pristine and clean.

“Hi, Arthur.“ 

Arthur felt Lucia’s embrace and lips on his cheek.

“What are you doing?“ Arthur gasped as Lucia placed her lips on top of his. He heard her soft moaning as she rubbed her legs against his body.

“Hey, hey-“

“What’s this?” Lucia pulled Arthur’s Swiss Army Knife out of his pocket. “Huh? What is this?“

“It’s my Swiss Army Knife... “

“I know that. I want to know what it’s doing here.“

“I already said I’m not going to use it.“

“When?“

“I told the conductor.”

“I see.” Lucia sighed. “You’re such a good boy, Arthur. I didn’t think you’d want to hurt me.” She looked up at him. “I’m your twin sister, aren’t I?” She pressed her head against his chest. “And I love you more than anything else in the entire world.” She pulled his shirt towards her and started crying in it. “Please keep that thing away from us. I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”

Arthur reached for the Swiss Army Knife. Lucia gasped and slapped him. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“I wasn’t!” Arthur protested. “You said you didn’t want me to-”

“I’ll take care of it.” Lucia’s face became stern, but then melted into her loving smile. “So just be a good boy, okay?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and looked into his eyes, which were furiously darting around. “Arthur, stay still.”

“Please let go of me. It hurts.“

“I’m sorry.“ Lucia climbed off his body. “I just love you so much. You know... “ she purred, “if a human and their guardian gaze into each other’s eyes... their souls become one again. I love you so much, Arthur... “ Lucia pressed her body against his chest. “Can’t you feel it? Our souls calling towards each other? Why can’t they be one, Arthur? Why can’t we-“

Her words were interrupted as Arthur knelt over and puked over the side of the bed.

-----

“Yeah.“ Brooke muttered. “Just fine.“