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darkdemeter · 19 days

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𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑪𝑯 𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬

— 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒙 (𝑭) 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 —

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The Horseman is eager with gauntlet fingers plucking and squeezing at the triggers of his unrested spirit, a whirlwind of timeless spiralling. And by far, the more accepting - or at least resigning - to his fate at the tether of a watcher. He doesn’t exactly let his hesitation be known through the crack whip of his protesting joke, only for the Charred Council to be unamused by his antics.

Upon the moment of linking with you, Strife greeted you with an ounce of fondness, though his expression lay hidden beneath his mask, his tone is the only representation of his mood. And he seemed… happy, and rather amused to meet you.

All you do is blink with utter surprise, eyes aglow with your stun, he rumbles out a faint chuckle, “Not much of a talker, ey?”

Thus begins your journey across the realms of the universe with the gunslinging Horseman, his travels taking him far and wide within the stretch of a shortened window of time. Thankful that your bindings allow you to slink into the chasm of his vessel, you however, find it a little saddening that you miss out on so much.

For a Horseman who rides heavily on the winds, chasing adventure and anything that strikes his fancy, he also entertains your fascination and soon enough, he slows a little in his travels so that you may actually take in the surroundings.

A youngling amongst the watchers that far exceed your age and experience, you’re very keen to inspect every crook and cranny of whatever world you inhabit. You had thought that he’d hold so little time and tolerance for your curious nature; but you’re proven wrong when he too takes the time to explore with you. From turning up every rock to find what lies under it, to becoming mesmerised to the fluttery fields of flowery pastures and intriguing bugs that dance in the dark sky like stars. Not only have the many sights been a joyous experience, no less with the Horseman to grant you nothing less than equitable and uplifting company, but the massing of collected trinkets is something of a newly-formed tradition.

His siblings, in their scrutiny and judgement of this odd habit, find a level of distaste within it. The many collected odds and bits and bobs a tidal wave of obsession that they can’t fathom who started. But it matters little to the trigger happy brother. “What? It’s our thing!” he’ll claim loudly and without shame, only for you to hide behind him and away from their casted glares. “Aw, now look, you guys are scaring her!”

An impressive and still growing collection to this day, you now begin to find more personalised and thoughtful gifts to present to your rider, ones that you wish for him to hold onto. At first, he didn’t understand and would add them to your other found treasures, only for you to rapidly shake your head and gesture to him, holding your gift in hand, you move about like a frenzied ghost.

Laughing, he questions, “What’re you saying, little Watcher?... you want me to hold onto it?” With a far enthusiastic nod, he laughs and agrees to keep your small artefacts on him at all times. Pleased with this, he takes notice of the shy glimmer that thins the dark lids of your eyes, how your darkened shaped head will bow and your hands curl in together aggressively. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume you had a little crush on him.

Not too soon after, you are presented with small presents of his own. Ones he’s gathered in some far corner of the desolated chamber you’re investigating together, or a funny shaped piece that in your eyes, is a prized possession; and what’s more, it comes from your rider. He takes great pride, his chest puffed out and helmed chin held high when he sees how these small gifts entrance you, and you gesture in thanks with a smile unmade with a mouth.

Your silence, however, irks him greatly. He loses focus and rest over it, it drives him that mad. Dealing with the edge of his siblings can be a trouble all its own, all he wants is to talk to someone, to hold a conversation. His disappointment is more noticeable than it was upon your first meeting him, seeing that you are indeed not a talker; much to his masked grimace.

He tries everything to get you to talk. Just one word. That’s all he wants from you. And then he promises himself he’ll be satisfied. For some time…

Not that you’re distant and cold and quick to brush off his jokes and witty banter with a scoff or furrowed brow. You actually appear to be consumed with a heightened level of interest in what he says, the stories he tells you when taking short respites.

From the wide, unblinking gaze your eyes hold to him, he sees you hang to every word and he cherishes that. In fact, he does tend to over-dramatise his stories just a little - if only to see the wonderment flutter in your eyes. For a face void of many features that are reminiscent of his own, he can only count on the motion of your eyes and the glow they have when something excites or scares you.

And Heaven and Hell forbid if anything scares you, because that is a day of reckoning. Be it any fiend or beast, he’ll slay it. He goes above and beyond to keep you, his little watcher, safe and out of harm’s reach. When something makes you excited, Strife is one to note it down and repeat it later, and if that pattern continues then he’ll continue.

Each time he catches your gaze on him, silent, yet eyes pooled in your amazement for his prowess on the battlefield, he smirks under the protection of his mask. He feels empowered when you look at him like that. It imbues him with the strength and mindset that he can accomplish anything, though he already knows this, it’s different when it’s you who watches him.

Still making one-sided conversation, he eventually tries his luck again with another joke. “Alright, alright, little Watcher. Why is my brother, War, so serious all the time?”

With a kitten-like tilt of your head, you remain silent though he sees the cogs in your mind toil the answer. With a bow of your chin, you give in.

“Because he has no funny bone!” Strife finds himself in awe of the sound that emanates from you. A chorus of reverberating giggles and after what feels like an eternity, he cherishes the angelic hue and bounce of your voice.

“You’re so funny…”

#female reader #darksiders fanfiction #strife #darksiders #nephilim #darksiders 2 #darksiders strife #darksiders strife x reader #x reader #fanfiction #darksiders genesis #darksiders 3 #darksiders x reader #Strife/Reader

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aylacavebear · 3 months

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Master List

So far, I only do series, and I'm working on several. Bear with me while I get this setup, lol. I hope you guys enjoy reading these as much as I had writing them and rereading them. Most are a work in progress, and I'll post them when I can.

A/N: Will do my best to upload at least one chapter to each of the ones I'm currently working on, once a week per the date of the last upload from each one.

She Thought She Was Normal (Series) (Completed) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC A/N: Smut in one chapter -----------------------------------------

Stockroom Antics (Series) (Completed) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC

----------------------------------------- Dimensional Shift (Series) (Editing & Writing) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC A/N: This one is basically the show with a twist, and it will start just before Dean comes back from hell. A/N: I have to put this one on hold. It needs more editing than I realized. -----------------------------------------

The Traveler (Series) (currently writing) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC Reader & Sam Winchester x OC Reader. A/N: Make sure to get in on the fun here. Uploads on Sundays -----------------------------------------

Retribution (Series) (Completed - Last chapter upload will be on 7/3) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You A/N: Severely DARK. MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS Uploads on Wednesdays -----------------------------------------

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leandreandyael · 8 months

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The Queen pays the trio a visit...

“Little angel, I’ve told you, I shall not leave you alone.” Leandre’s voice was deep and soft as he reassured her once more that she had nothing to fear. He wanted her to have confidence that no matter what came in the future, she would not have to face it alone again. Deacon was quick to offer similar reassurances as well. Both men knew what it was like to feel alone in facing darkness, which is why Abriella had asked them to help Yael, and why they had agreed. “You have no reason to worry.”

After more upset, stress, and commotion, Yael began to feel tired. She supposed that it had something to do with the crash of adrenaline after all that had happened. She didn’t want to let go of Leandre’s hand though, although she supposed Deacon’s would work if he’d tired of having to be her babysitter. He seemed calm and warm, and Leandre seemed to trust him, and of course Abriella did. Why was she doubting, he was the Horseman of Famine! HORSEMAN. OF. FAMINE! Like he was going to be untrustworthy, yet still nerves swirled like her brain was a blender set on high. It was still hard to add one more person to her current trust list after so many centuries under Gabriel.

“I…I’m not feeling too well. Do you mind if I lay down? I think maybe a nap? Or just a rest? I just feel kind of out of sorts. But I don’t want to be alone, if you want you can go get my sister. She’s used to having to keep me company.” Her eyes fell to her tears as her voice got faster and faster with each word; and she fought letting the tears that were welling in her eyes fall as well. She was a burden to everyone that knew her. Abriella had to make room for her here. Phaedra had to keep her company and chase nightmares when she slept. Cruz had stood in for Abriella or Phaedra if they had other business to take care of when they’d been at the Nephilim Sanctuary. And then there was Arch, who was working tirelessly to find something to help quell her fears and anxiety, but nothing seemed to help. “I’m sorry, I know I’m a bother.” Her head dropped and those tears she’d been fighting won their battle.

“Now, don’t start that.” Deacon’s voice was warm, yet a bit teasing at the same time. His hand gently went uner her chin to bring their eyes to meet one another. So much like a scared kitten, no wonder Cruz was about to behead people, he reminded her of the Abriella from years prior as well, and she wasn’t his sister. For Cruz it had to be like watching it all unfold again. “It’s no bother. I have had a bunch of excitement this morning, I could use one myself. I’ll keep you company and Lee here can go get some fresh tater tots for both of us, and maybe something sweet?” Deacon’s brow rose as a smile tugged at his lips. “He can also get caught up with his Captain on everything. How’s that sound?” He knew what it was like to feel like you were dragging everyone down. Before he’d met Talon he had felt the same way except when around Abriella alone, but he’d also learned he’d been wrong.

“You don’t mind?” Yael looked back and forth between Deacon and Leandre, not sure if she should really believe that it was okay and not just him trying to make her feel better. He was new to the room, again her brain trying to tell her that as soon as Leandre was gone that she’d be in trouble with the newcomer. Her hand tightened on Leandre’s without even thinking about it.

“Asshole doesn’t say what he doesn’t mean, angel. I will vouch for him.” Leandre gave her a wink and squeezed the hand still in his softly which seemed to help her relax the renewed vice grip she had on him. She reminded him of those Christmas ornaments that Abriella had brought down the first year in Imperium. She called them Mercury Glass and he swore if you breathed on them wrong they shattered into a million tiny pieces that looked like glitter. Needless to say, many were lost the first year. Yael’s confidence was that fragile, and possibly even her psyche, but she was captivatingly beautiful to look at and he found it hard to tear himself away. Both he and Deacon would have to be gentle and patient, something at least Deacon was known for. “If you need me to, I can stay. It’s your first day and you’ve already had a rough one.” Leander took the hand that had been gently soothing her back and gently grasped her shoulder to pull her against him in a half-hug. “I swear not all are so eventful here. Our dear Queen sees to it. But best call her Brie, she doesn’t like being reminded of her station.”

“No, I’ve been a big enough bo-” Yael’s words were cut off by Deacon’s finger gently pressing against her lips and keeping her from continuing.

“None. Of. That.” His voice was quiet and soft as Deacon cut her off, his heart almost breaking in sympathy with the woman.

Just then a soft knock was at the door. “Speaking of our fair and lovely Queen.” Deacon said with an amused smile as he rose to go to the door. “I heard that!” Abriella’s voice could be heard from the other side, along with a laugh. She rarely snooped or used her powers to eavesdrop on her friends, however she had just been trying to make sure that they actually WERE in there, since she was looking for Leandre. Once Deacon had opened the door and they’d exchanged hugs, Abriella made her way over to Yael to give her one as well, then to Lee. “I hate to do this, but I need to borrow your night, Leandre, for a bit. I need to take a trip and I’m afraid he is the best one to accompany me. I promise, he’ll make it back in the same condition I borrowed him in.” Abriella’s smile belied the seriousness of the visit she was about to make.

Lee quirked a brow as he looked up at her, his eyes darkening, there were few places that Abriella would ask him and not her brother, Arch, or another of the Horsemen to accompany her. None of those places were good, and all of those places meant that the situation was tenuous at best, and she was trying not to provoke war. Given the news Deacon had brought, he had a feeling that he knew just where they were going.

“Again? I demand being able to bring back treats this time.” Leandre said, not loosening his hold on Yael in any way, as he could feel the slight tremble already starting. If the two of them could convince the delicate Nephilim it was nothing more than a mundane visit, then he hoped she would relax. Deacon being there might help as well.

“If you must. We can stop for shopping after my meeting. That way the sweets that I am sure you are thinking of won’t go stale if a certain someone decides he just cannot shut up.” Again her smile hid her fears and was doing a good job of convincing Yael all was well. “You have to go again?” There was no again, but Deacon had figured out the game that Leandre and Abriella were playing.

“Unfortunately. I promise, it won’t be long. Just a quick word,” she looked over at Leandre, “sweet shopping of some kind,” she looked over at Yael, “and I’ll have your knight back to you before you have even realized he’s gone.”

“I bet he’ll be back before we wake up.” Deacon winked at her, and her smile told everyone they’d pulled it off.

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palaceofimperium · 1 year

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Moving from where she had been standing at Cruz’s side, Abriella stood directly across from her friend. “Yael, you have endured hardships, punishments, and mental torture that no one truly deserves. Manipulation of your thoughts and emotions were allowed to endure for too long, and there are few that can understand what effect that has on the psyche and the view of the world it creates. I know that you have had anxiety regarding coming here, in truth I know there is little you do not have anxiety regarding anymore.” Her words were soft and heartfelt, not full of pity or in any way demeaning. While speaking Abriella had reached over and gently taken Yael’s hand in her own. She wanted her friend to know that she was safe and that no one took what had happened with Gabriel lightly. “However, I selected one of my personal guards that I truly believe can understand your viewpoint more than you might expect. While it will take some patience from both of you, I believe you can help one another to see that the world is not such a dark place as you have come to see it. Do not let his gruff and stoic exterior intimidate you, I promise you he is a lot softer than he first appears.” She winked with a smile, and when she continued her voice held affection for her guard. “Stoic is I believe one of his middle names, but he is also a fierce protector and that is what you also need during this time of recovery. And Leander remembers what coming out of the dark of a prison can feel like.” While he’d agreed to do this and even wanted to, Leandre was still having second thoughts while he stood talking to some of the others during what felt more like an awards speech than an introduction. Deciding it was too late to back out now and not look like a monumental jackass, he took a deep breath and hoped for the best as he stepped through the doorway into the grand dining room where everyone was gathered. Rather than being in his fighting leathers as Thenasus had done, Leandre was in a suit from the human realm, with a crisp white shirt underneath. He had decided to forgo the tie for the day and left the top couple of buttons on the white shirt he wore undone. It was his hope that this would help the female he was charged with protecting and guiding to relax if he didn’t look quite so formal, but he couldn’t be as relaxed as some of the others who would come later. That was only around those he knew very well. According to Brie, Yael was more akin to a scared mouse than an Angelic or Nephilim warrior, which is what she had been for centuries.

As he walked towards the table, Leandre saw Yael’s reaction and couldn't say he disagreed with his friend and Queen. Yael was also absolutely stunning with fine and elegant features on her narrow face, eyes the most beautiful shade of hazel that seemed to change color as he neared her and the light changed, and hair a shade off of auburn; and nothing like he expected. From the trepidation he could see in her entire demeanor, he was glad he wore the suit over his uniform of the Guard. As nervous as she appeared sitting there, almost clinging to Abriella’s hand, in his full regalia, she might have passed out. Leandre knew a thing about torture and fear, he would not want to put her ill at ease, especially at their first meeting. What he had endured had been weeks, hers had been years. While he understood some of what she had endured, in ways he could not know how she had withstood all she had while maintaining a modicum of sanity.

Sliding through a small break in the table made for just that, Leandre bowed to her but kept his eyes on her face. "Lady Yael, I may not be as relaxed as some of the others in Imperium, but I promise you will always be safe with me and we will work through it all together." He brought the back of her hand to his lips and Lee swore he heard her make a small squeak. His eyes cut over to Abriella slowly as he stood back up, maybe he did want to know exactly “how bad” it had been; something he had previously chosen not to know thinking it would be better for Yael to tell him.

While he wasn't as big as Thenasus, Leandre was also a massive warrior. Broad shoulders, tall, and powerful, Yael believed him to be even larger than Gabriel. It was hard to trust he would not hurt her like her old commander had. Even with the calm and peacefulness she had seen in his oceanic blue eyes, it was hard for her not to feel fear coiling in her belly. It was all she could do not to recoil when he’d taken her hand, then the feel of his lips and the scruff of his goatee against her skin had created a whole other sensation she hadn’t felt before. Outside of Gabriel, the few other angels and Nephilim she interacted with as part of her responsibilities with the Angelic Legion, and those males who had been part of her mission, Yael had been around very few males. Abriella’s brother Cruz and their friend Arch were the only two with regularity, and they were the only two that she trusted. Trusting this new one would take some time.

When Leandre had taken his seat, Yael tried to give him a soft smile, but she wasn’t sure how it actually turned out due to her nerves. She figured it must not have been too bad because Abriella squeezed her hand and Leandre nodded towards her with a small smile of his own. She had a feeling that might be the most he ever did since it earned a raised brow, but pleased look, from Abriella. Yael had to admit she did like the look of it on him, his chestnut colored hair long enough to be bruising his eyebrow on the side he had it parted to giving him an almost boyish charm to his otherwise rugged face. Definitely handsome.

Abriella watched Yael carefully. She also caught the look that Leandre had thrown her, and knowing him as well as she did told her that he was going to want to know more than what she’d told him in their previous conversations. It had been her hope that Yael could be the one to divulge that information, but it might be better if she did. That way there would not be any accidental upsets that could cause things to slide backwards, or worse. There would be time for that later after everyone had gotten settled.

Once Leandre was settled and Yael’s racing heart seemed to have calmed, Abriella revealed a surprise. "I know there are some special circumstances that have made you feel like no one can understand your lack of experience in areas others have, especially relationship wise.” Yael started to get nervous once more as Abriella started another introduction. Her breath stuttered and her eyes glanced furtively around. Did everyone know, were they all laughing at her the way that Gabriel had? Would they all judge her and look down on her? Yael’s breath quickened and her heart started pounding, how had she agreed to this? Was it too late to go back to the Sanctuary in New Orleans?

Leandre’s hand found the top of Yael’s on the table, gently laying atop it, and she found it calming and reassuring, somehow. The warmth of it seemed to seep into her veins and fight the fear that had been trying to course through them. “There is another here in Imperium that is much like you. He too has felt like an outsider at times, but knows that we all love him regardless and that it doesn’t define him. A Horseman and my cousin, he is also one of the gentlest souls I know when not on the battlefield. Deacon, Horseman of Famine, specifically asked to work with you and Lee, so you will not feel alone in those areas where you feel no one could understand." Abriella gave Yael a soft and warm smile, wishing she could ease the pain and fear she knew her friend felt. Between Leandre and Deacon, there were probably no others who truly could understand what she was feeling or what she had endured.

Like Leandre, Deacon had opted for a suit and no tie. When Deacon had told Lee he'd wanted to work with them, at first the Demonic Nephilim had seemed insulted that Deacon might think that he couldn't handle a simple Nephilim who was having trouble adjusting to a life free from torture and fear at the hands of her former commander. That was until Deacon explained she was a virgin, something Deacon had learned from his own father. Then it sank in, Deacon was probably one of the very few in the realm who might understand other than a full Angel, and no one was going to have her working with one of those anytime soon.

In fact, the final details of them working together had been made for them to tag team things while Brie was getting the women that morning. Cruz was to have told her as they were all seated for breakfast. Deacon was originally supposed to have been a backup, but knowing how he'd felt through the years about his homosexuality and lack of relationships, he felt that he was in the unique position to help. Leandre had agreed the more that they talked and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have an extra set of hands when one of them was busy. Now that he’d seen how skittish she really was, Leandre thought they were both going to have their hands full until she felt that she was truly safe in Imperium.

When Deacon entered the room, Yael didn’t feel the same fear that she had for Leandre. Deacon’s whole demeanor was more relaxed, and had she not known he was a Horseman, she would never have guessed. He looked more like a model: tall with wide shoulders and narrow hips, chiseled features, with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. He looked more like he should be walking a runway in Milan rather than a warrior and Horseman. She knew he started out a Nephilim the same as she was, but she had never seen another one anywhere close to looking like he did.

"Hi, Yael. I want to help in any way I can. Friend, confidant, shoulder, brother, whatever it is that you need. Leandre and I have different styles, but we agree that you will always be safe with us both and we will work together and with you to help you heal from all you've been through." Deacon's style was definitely less formal and more warm, and it earned him a small smile. It was a start, and it was good enough for now.

Leandre still had his hand lightly on top of hers, and it was helping Yael feel calmer as another large male was now seated next to her. She didn’t know why, except maybe she did believe that he would protect her and she was safe with him. That combined with Deacon being so relaxed and friendly, and looking less intimidating that either Leandre or Thenasus had Yael smiling back at him, and then over at Leandre. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. She could do this. Even as stoic as Leandre seemed to be, he didn’t seem to be judging her and he hadn’t been harsh in the slightest. He was just more formal. Formal she could do. And he was watching with what looked like genuine concern in his eyes, maybe he didn’t use his words but it was clear that there was more going on under the surface..

Abriella waited for Deacon to get comfortable after sitting, and she noticed that when he did, Yael ended up with each of the men holding one of her hands. She didn’t think she’d ever seen the other Nephilim actually look relaxed until then. But, then again, she wasn’t sure until that moment that Yael had felt safe. With Deacon on one side and Leandre on the other, Yael had to know that there was no way that even if Gabriel had walked into the dining room that he could do anything to her. Even if her grandfather, Div, tried, she wasn’t sure that he’d get too far with those two. Even better than her think it was that YAEL seemed to think it; and after centuries of living in what had to be constant fear, to see her relax was a relief.

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xgrimmtales · 7 months

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Character Intros Revamped: Dove Andris

Dove Andris (she/they) is the diplomatic type, but if messed with, she can be a force of nature. They are a cisgender female, demisexual, Lithuanian, deaf, and is a Nephilim. Dove is viewed by many of the Dusk Angels as their "younger sister". She is looked up to by Theia Tungwenuk (her "niece") because of how strong she is. Currently, they reside in the Demon King's Mansion and currently enrolled at Northstar High.

#character intro #original character #character backstory #oc #queer characters #zenith skies nadir lows #zsnl #xgrimmtales #demisexual #she/they #disabled characters #deaf character #nephilim #found family #female characters #teen character

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saintes-rpg · 9 months

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● ONE HUNDRED TWENTY THREE ● NEPHILIM ● FEMALE ● LAWYER & ADVOCATE FOR THE EQUALITY AMONG SPECIES ACT ●

"Some people think only intellect counts: knowing how to solve problems, knowing how to get by, knowing how to identify an advantage and seize it. But the functions of intellect are insufficient without courage, love, friendship, compassion, and empathy."

Biography: They say the love of two people so perfect for each other is nothing short of a match made in heaven. In some cases, truer words have never been spoken. Although to some, the idea of an angel and a human falling in love is unnatural, for an angel to then sire a child with a Human, is almost unspeakable. The offspring of humans and angels, often referred to as Nephilim, are looked down upon by most angels. Angels consider them impure and incomplete, lesser beings and because of their impurity they're often outcast or hunted.They often lie about their supernatural origins, either leaning into their human side or pretending their abilities stem from another supernatural origin.

Evangeline Meyer is such a creature. Her mother, a human and her father, a powerful angel, Evangeline was born a Nephilim. Her mother died in birth, her body unable to withstand the power that she had become a vessel too, as was often the case for mothers of Nephilim. Evangeline was born good, bright, an essence of light and from a young age it was obvious her angelic abilities were a kin to that of her fathers. Not only was she a rare species but she was a powerful one at that. She was articulate, smart and could communicate in a vast variety of languages that not many could even begin to comprehend. And she was perceptive, not only of others feelings but beyond that. She was perceptive in such a way that those around her often thought she was psychic. Of course, for a child, such abilities were hard to just explain away so Evangeline, had to be clever with her use of such abilities in order to blend in, although her ego didn't allow for her to fully blend in, she was often thought of as a prodigy child. A child more intelligent than that of an average child. Her father had to protect her, teach her to survive in a world that was against them from the beginning.

Evangeline was taught about her abilities from a young age but she was also taught to hide them. Hiding such abilities was easy with practice, hiding her wings however, not so much. Angel wings were grand, pure and white; a symbol of purity and divinity. Nephilims wings, a rare occurrence, were smaller, grey in colour(often a symbol of their impurity) and often unreliable in terms of flying. In time, Evangeline learned to shield her wings from onlookers with cloaking, a form of magic that warped the perception of others to not see what was in front of them. This was draining and Evangeline’s wings often became a symbol of what she hated about herself most; the impurity of her species.They carried a weight that sometimes she just couldn't bear.

Her father did his best to teach her all she needed to know and protect her from those who hunted Nephilims, as a result they often moved around to avoid detection, after all he held the mark of an angel which could only be hidden so much, even for someone as powerful as him.Plus when the ageing process is slow, you didn't want to stick around for questions. They survived together for a long time but it was only a matter of time before they were found.Another Angel, who knew of his wrongdoing, had tracked him down. There was a battle of heaven and heaven. Her father, fighting for her, and the other, trying to right what he deemed wrong. Evangeline could only watch on in horror. Her father warned her this day could come and warned her not to intervene if it did. She could only watch as the battle between the two raged on. It felt like hours but it was truly over in a matter of minutes as she watched as her father was slaughtered in front of her. Evangeline shook in anger as the other angel lingered over her fathers body, and a rage took over her that she couldn't explain. Before she could stop herself she charged toward the angel, her wrath taking over and exploding out of her. In any other situation this would not kill an angel but he was weak, killing another angel did that to you and when Evangeline came out of her rage the other angel was dead.

Evangeline hadn’t been truly aware of what she was capable of until that exact moment. And it scared her a little.She didn't like the side of her that she had unlocked. She wanted to protect, to do good, to help, it went against her nature to do anything but. She was scared, and now for the first time, alone. So she ran, it's what she did best. It’s how she survived.

The world was changing, supernaturals were becoming more known. Humans were divided on their support for new species. Hate crime was rife and the world was adapting to a new way of being. Supernatural suburbs were popping up as a safe haven for those who were supernatural and allies aside. Evangeline sought a new life for herself, a safe haven from who she was and what she could do. She was smart and empathetic and she wanted to do something noble. Becoming a lawyer was her way of doing that. She wasn’t in it for the money, she was in it to help people, to protect them from the wrongdoings of the law. With her abilities she was able to truly protect those who were innocent, of course sometimes protecting people meant stepping outside of the courtroom but nevertheless, Evangeline did whatever she could to make sure any evil wrongdoings were dealt with appropriately. She settled in the supernatural suburb of Saintes, her first time truly settling down somewhere with the intention of it being forever. She shortened her name, hid her past and was cryptic about who she truly was. Could she stay in this town or would her true self cause her to become outcast?

Evangeline Meyer is played by Leonora, 27, She/Her, BST/GMT+1

#leonora #evanangeline meyers #evan myers #taken female #taken characters #taken nephilim #taken bio

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crushedbyhyperbole · 3 months

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Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”

“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

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proxis-shattered-expectations · 1 year

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Forgot to post here, but this is a birthday gift made for @witheringvines for their birthday yesterday. Callisto is one of my favs from their Darksiders Ocs, and I had alot of fun drawing her!

Art is mine

Callisto belongs to @witheringvines

#darksiders #darksiders ocs #darksiders o #darksiders original character #darksiders nephilim oc #darksiders nephilim #nephilim oc #nephilim #female nephilim #darksiders art #birthday gift #darksiders callisto #callisto #art for others #not my oc #not my character #pen art #traditional art #traditional

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darkdemeter · 16 days

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yeah so I'm working on a (fan/fanfiction) Darksiders adventure, d&d/game novel hybrid thingy. Got some cool ideas for it brewing, I wanna do a lot of graphics/art stuff for it. Unsure what platform it’s gonna be on yet, so a little experimenting is gonna be happening.

So ya 😗

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aylacavebear · 3 months

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She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 1688

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

Her alarm woke her promptly at five. She did her typical morning routine, only today, she put her hair up in a braid, preparing for the challenge with Dean. The sun wasn't up yet and the house was quiet, but she could hear the faint sounds of birds outside, beginning to wake up.

When she went into the kitchen, she noticed the boys sleeping in the living room, so moved quietly into the kitchen. Bobby had picked up a few of her favorite cereals when he found out she'd be staying with him, so she grabbed what she needed and went back into her room to eat at her desk. While she ate, she read through some of her assigned book, so her lesson would go faster later. After breakfast, she did her exercises and movements with her knife and gun, as her father had shown her.

Her thoughts drifted a bit during her routine, back to the book she'd read the night before. There were things she'd read that she had almost brushed off as just coincidence. Things she could do that Nephilim could also do. Even now, there was too much information missing for her to connect all the dots since the book did explain that the mother of the Nephilim always died in childbirth and her mother hadn’t.

“So, you ready?” Dean asked from her doorway.

She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard him open her door, and because her gun was in her hand, she swung around and had it aimed at him in seconds.

He put his hands up, almost worried she might shoot him, “Chill. It's just me.”

She let out a breath and lowered her gun before sliding it back under her pillow, “Sorry. Lemme go wake up Sammy, I promised. Then I’ll be ready.”

He nodded as they headed out to the living room, where Sammy was still sleeping on the couch. Dean was confident that this time, he’d win. She gently woke him up. When he realized why she was waking him up, he quickly threw on his shoes, a huge grin on his face.

Dean made a mental note not to sneak up on her if she had a weapon on her. He motioned for her to follow him as he headed out to the back of Bobby's scrapyard. The sun had almost broken the horizon. Maria took note of where he led her, the way the sun would make its rays of light across the yard, and how it could affect the throws. He marked an X on the wooden fence and then stepped back ten feet. She watched him, curiously as he pulled out his knives.

“We’ll start at ten feet and work up to twenty. The one who gets closest to the target, wins,” he explained, with that damned smirk on his face again.

“Alright,” she said plainly, crossing her arms.

He wasn’t bad, she had to give him that. His first throw almost hit the X in the center, as did his second at twelve feet. However, his third throw at fifteen feet was further from the center of the X, which made her raise an eyebrow. When he got to twenty feet through, his aim was worse. Dean marked where he had landed the hits as he pulled out the knives before handing them to her. The smug look on his face only made her roll her eyes.

“Good luck,” he told her, crossing his arms and leaning against the closest car, hoping that this time, he had her.

“I don’t need luck,” she replied, a cocky smirk on her lips.

It didn’t matter how far away she was from the target, she lined up all four of the knives almost dead center of the target. Bobby had been watching them from the second-story bedroom window, smiling. Sammy was smiling from ear to ear and had stayed quiet the entire time. Dean was fuming on the inside. He had no idea how she kept beating him in these challenges he came up with and it was more than annoying now. He walked over and removed the knives, not saying a word to either of them. She casually shrugged her shoulders and headed back to the house, leaving Dean in the scrapyard, Sammy following behind her, practically skipping.

Bobby met the two in the kitchen, getting himself a cup of coffee, “Not bad, kid. How long has your dad been having you practice with throwing knives? It’s not an easy skill.”

“A couple years now. He said I was a natural. Why?” she asked him, tilting her head slightly.

“Knife throwing isn’t something easy that just anyone can learn. Plus, some people just can’t do it at all,” he answered her.

Maria thought about his words and glanced at the window in the kitchen. She couldn’t see Dean but had a feeling he was out there practicing more since he hadn’t followed them back inside. She decided that she would at least give him some recognition for as well as he did. To her, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Bobby could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, which made him smile.

“I’m gonna guess you already ate breakfast,” he stated as he looked back toward the window.

“Yes, but Sammy hasn’t. I’m going to get started on my lessons for the day,” she replied before heading back to her room.

Bobby chuckled to himself as Sammy got himself some cereal for breakfast. Bobby then headed back to his desk and glanced toward where her room was, thinking back to when her mother was alive and the conversation he’d had with his brother-in-law when Maria had been conceived. He wondered if she had any idea what she really was and why her mother had been killed five years ago or if William had kept it a secret from her. These were all things he’d attempted to ask William about but he had always dodged the topic.

Dean came back in the house a couple hours later, tossing his knives in his bag, frustrated, “How does she do it, every damn time?” he grumbled.

Bobby chuckled quietly, not looking up from his book, “She’s different, kid.”

“She’s annoying is what she is,” he grumbled, sitting down on the couch.

“Go get some breakfast and quit your bellyaching,” he told Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Sammy had been sitting on the other end of the couch, doing his best not to laugh at his brother for losing to a girl, yet again, as Bobby had been clear not to rub it in. Sammy went back to his schoolwork though, even if he was still grinning.

Maria came out of her room about a half hour later, the book she’d been reading and her journal in hand, “I’m done with my morning lessons Uncle Bobby,” she told him as she stood in front of his desk.

He looked up at her and took her books, “Did you want to say something to Dean first?” he asked.

She pursed her lips for a moment, “Yes,” she answered.

He nodded a bit, “Go do that and I’ll take a look at this before your quiz,” he told her.

Maria took a deep breath before she walked into the kitchen, seeing Dean sitting down at the table. She took note of his expression. He looked almost defeated but at the same time, he looked as though he had a deep determination in his eyes as he read the book in front of him. He’d always been hard for her to read since she’d met him since the challenges between them had started. She noticed how he could easily hide what he was really feeling or thinking about. He may have been annoying, but at the same time, she was impressed with him.

“Hey, Dean,” she said, a softness mixed with her confidence as she sat down across from him, “I wanted to tell you that you did really well earlier, with the knife throwing. I didn’t know it was something difficult to learn and my dad’s had me doing it for a couple years now,” she explained, sounding as genuine as she could.

Dean was surprised at what she’d said, it only adding to her complexity and mystery, as well as him still finding her annoying, “Yeah, thanks,” he practically mumbled, keeping an expression to match.

She narrowed her eyes slightly and took a deep breath through her nose before she got up and walked back over to her Uncle’s desk, “I’m ready for my quiz.”

Bobby had heard what she’d said to Dean, and it had made him smile a bit. She had tried, and she was ten after all. In his mind, she’d said it fairly well for her age. He quizzed her on what she read, even trying to trip her up. If he ever had to admit it, he only tried to trip her up because he loved hearing her be able to correct him, having actually learned the material and not just skimmed over it to find the base parts of it all. He knew he didn’t say it enough, but he was beyond proud of her.

She took her books back to her room after the quiz, making sure her door was closed so she could read more of the book on Angels. Maria was completely fascinated by it and had no idea why she was drawn to the information. She’d never read anything on angels before, not even sure if they existed. Although, as her mind would argue, how could there be demons without angels, the world needing the duality, the balance? Maria knew she couldn’t ask any of the adults in her life, as they’d want to know where she’d heard of or learned the information from, as it wasn’t on any of her list of reading materials. She looked up from the book and sighed, then closed it and slid it back under her pillow.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

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theimperiumchronicles · 2 years

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PHAEDRA

Favorite of Michael with a playful and perky personality, Phaedra never had the problems her older sister Yael did. Blessed with the powers of ice and water, she learned to use them offensively and defensively from an early age. With her upbeat personality, she was often charged with guarding children and the weak from demonic and otherworldly threats. Her calm and warm demeanor always put them at ease and she was a fierce fighter who could keep them safe. Then she was assigned to a different task and fell in love with her charge, a man that would shatter her heart. As that was taking place, the full extent of the horrors inflicted by Gabriel on her sister came to light and guilt bore down on her as a tremendous weight. So she could be of comfort to her sister, Phaedra was also removed from Duty and allowed to remain in one of the US Sanctuaries for the Nephilim. Already friends with Brie, when she offered them a chance to get even farther away from all that had been bothering them, both sisters jumped at the chance. Phaedra was mostly going for Yael, but she may find healing herself in the most unlikely of ways.

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avanatural · 11 months

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The Talk

Summary: Jack catches Dean and Y/N while they're being intimate. The Nephilim has a lot of questions about what he witnessed, and Dean takes it upon himself to answer at least the most important ones.

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Smut, fluff, some humor, 18+

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, mentions of non-con, getting caught during sex

A/N: This story contains smut! Do not proceed if you’re under the age of 18! Thank you to the lovely people who expressed their interest in this particular story. I hope you enjoy! Wanna be added to my Dean Winchester tag list? Send me an ask ❤️

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Y/N cried out in ecstasy. Her fingers curled around the headboard, holding on for dear life. Dean was ramming into her at a rapid pace, kneeling behind her. His skin was slapping against hers. Every push was forceful enough to take her breath away.

“How’s that feel?”, he checked in with her, bending forward, folding his body across hers, his lips grazing her cheek. His thrusts slowed down, but their force increased.

“So good,” she panted through the powerful sensations.

“You want me to keep goin’ like that?”

“Oh God, yes…”

She clenched around him, causing him to hiss loudly in pleasure. He could feel his body vibrate as a familiar intense sensation settled in his lower regions.

Until…

“What are you doing?”

Dean and Y/N tensed violently at the sudden intrusion. Their souls took a leap out of their bodies, prompting them to abruptly still their movements. No one else was supposed to be in the bunker. Their heads snapped towards the open door of Dean’s bedroom.

None other than Lucifer’s son himself, Jack, was standing in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him, his head tilted to the side.

“Dammit, Jack!”, Dean roared, swiftly pulling out of Y/N and throwing his cream-colored sheets over her naked body.

Y/N’s eyes were wide, her breathing heavy. She gladly accepted the sheets to cover her body. A scorching heat lit up her cheeks. She felt like she’d just run a marathon, but with a mighty dose of embarrassment tossed into the mix.

“What are you doing?”, the Nephilim repeated, staring at the two hunters with a crease between his innocent eyes.

“Having sex!”, Dean snapped, snatching his pillow from the bed to hide his softening member.

Jack’s lips pursed as he mentally went through his vocabulary to find that particular word. When it didn’t ring a bell, he shook his head. “What does that mean?”

Y/N groaned internally and hid her burning face in her hands. This couldn’t be happening. What the hell was he doing back early? Jack and Sam were supposed to be out.

“It’s what adults do for fun,” Dean snarled, hoping that, by some miracle, Jack was going to take the hint and leave them alone.

Instead, the purest smile spread across Jack’s face. He looked even more interested in the subject now. “I like fun.”

Dean pushed his jaw forward. He was irritated, but he was also embarrassed. Y/N could tell by looking at his flushed freckled cheeks and the reddening tips of his ears. “You remember the talk we had about privacy?”, he demanded.

Lucifer’s son drew his eyebrows together. “Of course.”

“You wanna give us some of that?”, Dean barked, sarcasm dripping from his rough voice.

“Hey, Jack, I was wondering where you headed off to…”, Sam’s voice trailed off as he appeared in the doorframe. He took in the scene before him, quick to avert his gaze and clear his throat. “Jack, uh… Come on, we’ll give them some privacy.” Sam placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and steered him away from the door.

Dean groaned and let his sweaty forehead drop to Y/N’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered.

“But the door was open,” they could hear Jack protest down the hall.

Y/N sighed deeply, hoping that it would somehow rid her of the uneasiness that tickled her limbs. When Dean lifted his head back up and met her gaze, she was almost amused by the obvious disappointment on his face. Almost. The smile didn’t break through, but her eyes reflected her bashful internal laughter.

“It’s not funny,” Dean grumbled, frowning as he spotted the beginning of the awkward smile on her face.

The mood had definitely been killed.

“Come on…” Y/N gently patted Dean’s bare thigh. “Let’s get dressed. It’s time for lunch, anyway.”

“Dean?”, Jack asked.

The Nephilim, Dean and Sam were sat at the library table, their noses buried in books and newspapers. The earthy scent of paper wafted through the air.

“Hm?”, the older Winchester brother half-heartedly replied, raising his mug to his lips.

“Does… sex… hurt women?”

Sam gave the Nephilim a confused side-glance while Dean audibly gulped down the hot sip of coffee. “What?”

“I think you hurt Y/N,” Jack stated with an accusing tone in his voice.

Sam’s lips transformed into a tight, thin line to prevent him from laughing.

Dean sent a glare his brother’s way. He was not in the mood to give the son of Lucifer ‘the talk.’ “It’s none of your business what I do with Y/N. Capiche?”, he grumped. The hunter’s muscles tightened in his jaw as he took another sip of his coffee.

“But I don’t want you to hurt her.”

“I wasn’t hurting her,” Dean huffed, putting down his mug. He didn’t want to defend himself for what Jack had witnessed, but if someone claimed that he hurt Y/N, and that he hurt her on purpose, the hunter was bound to get offended. “Relax.”

Sam chimed in, showing mercy for his brother. “Jack, Dean would never hurt Y/N. You know that.”

“But it looked like he was.”

Dean sighed grumpily and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “I was doin’ somethin’ she likes. Okay? That’s rule number one with sex,” he explained, lifting a single finger in the air for emphasis, “You both need to enjoy it.”

“So, it’s possible not to enjoy it?” Jack’s forehead furrowed, causing his brows to move closer together. “I thought adults do it for fun.”

“Yes, it’s possible, but that should never, ever happen,” Dean clarified, “You need to communicate, make sure you’re on the same page.”

Jack’s eyes squinted at the unfamiliar expression. “On… the same page?”

“Yeah. For example…” Dean briefly shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to believe he was actually talking about this to Jack, of all people. “Uh… Y/N told me she doesn’t want me to leave hickeys on her body, so I can’t do that. Even though I’d like to.” At the thought of marking Y/N up as his, he ran his tongue across his lower lip. “I’d really, really like to…,” he muttered to himself dreamily.

Sam scoffed, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. Never in a million years could he have guessed that his older brother was going to give Satan’s son the talk one day.

Meanwhile, Jack nodded, clinging to Dean’s every word. “So, it’s about… permission,” he concluded.

“Exactly,” Dean responded, snapping his fingers and pointing one at Jack. He felt something dangerously close to pride swell in his chest as the boy drew the correct conclusion. “Bottom line is, you can only do what your partner allows you to.”

Jack nodded and let the information sink in for a second. Then, one of his eyebrows rose up and he inquired, “So, Y/N is your… partner?”

The question was a curveball to Dean, whose mouth puckered in reply. He was stunned into stammering, “Uhm, well…”

Curiously, Sam sat up straighter and watched his sibling’s reaction like a hawk.

“Yeah,” Dean said finally, shrugging his wide shoulders, which, to his surprise, suddenly felt a lot lighter.

Jack clasped his own hands on the table, copying Dean’s posture. “Are there any other rules?”

“Yeah. Like protection.” When Jack opened his mouth to ask further questions, Dean silenced him by lifting his pointer finger back in the air. “But I ain’t teachin’ you about that, kid. One lesson at a time.”

Dean got up, empty mug in hand, and headed toward the kitchen. As he entered the hallway, he almost bumped into Y/N, who was standing right there, resting against the wall. She smiled up at him, irises gleaming with joy and a little bit of mischief.

“What’s gotten you all cheerful?”, he demanded playfully, eyebrows arching.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, grinning at him.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. But he didn’t get to say another word when Jack’s bewildered voice suddenly rang through the library.

“Sam… What are hickeys?”

When Sam’s groan reached their ears, Dean and Y/N burst into quiet laughter, leaning forward, their heads almost bumping into each other.

That night, Y/N listened to Dean’s calming heartbeat, cuddled up against his torso. He sighed with content when she pressed her lips to his anti-possession tattoo.

“You know… I really liked how you gave Jack the talk today,” she said.

Dean’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “So, you were eavesdroppin’.”

“Guilty.” Y/N laughed softly for a second, smiling at the green-eyed hunter who was holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “But seriously... I liked how you taught him about consent.”

His fingers traced an affectionate pattern on her hip. “Well, that's sex 101, isn’t it?”

She nodded against his skin. “It should be.”

Dean slowly brushed his fingertips across her ribs and felt her muscles contract. When he realized she was ticklish, he dragged his fingers along the same spot again. He enjoyed the sweet sounds of laughter that spilled from her mouth. He loved having her in his arms, whether they were having sex or not. She made him feel good. About his life. About himself.

“So… I’m your partner, huh?”, Y/N asked, catching his hand in hers so he would stop tickling her. She proceeded to bite her bottom lip and sneak a peek at Dean’s face while she waited for his response. So far, neither of them had brought up the question of what exactly they were to each other.

At first, she was met with complete and utter silence. That was okay. Truth be told, she had no idea what to expect. She knew they each had their own difficulties when it came to relationships. But she needed to know if Dean had told Jack the truth, or if he’d just called her his partner to appease the young Nephilim.

Then, after a few seconds, Dean gave his silent reply. The way he clenched his arm around her, squeezed her against him, and firmly kissed the crown of her head told her more than words ever could. He then transformed his response into one single word, quietly whispering it into her hair. “Yeah.”

“Hmm,” she hummed and hid her smiling face in the crook of his neck. His embrace was the most comfortable place in the entire world. She felt his chest rise and fall steadily, heard the deep breaths coming from his nose, and shut her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt at peace. “Dean?”, she asked after a few minutes, wondering if he was dozing off.

“Hm?”

“I think you still owe me an orgasm or two.”

His sleepy, spiky-haired head rose up the second she finished her sentence. He rolled on top of her body, grinning like a Cheshire cat while she giggled her heart out.

“Just two?”

“Ohh, are we feeling ambitious tonight?”, she chuckled, circling her arms around his neck.

“It’s on, sweetheart,” he rasped, molding his lips against hers in a breathtaking kiss.

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leandreandyael · 1 year

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Deacon finally locates where Yael & Leandre, and brings them up to speed...

While there were multiple offers to meet up for dinner, including from Dez, Thinnius, and Phaedra, Deacon wasn’t sure that Yael would feel up to it. There was also the possibility that she would feel embarrassed and just want some time alone and also some quiet. He told that he’d let everyone know, then he went looking for where exactly Leandre had spirited the two of them off to when he traced out of the dining room. There were a few places that he could think of, but he was eternally grateful that not only had he not chosen out into the Palace Gardens, but that they hadn’t been around when that excitement had gone down.

After looking in all the other places he considered that the demonic nephilim might have chosen to take Yael to give her some time to calm down and feel safe, Deacon ended up at the double doors that led into Leander’s quarters in the new wing of the Palace where all of their suites were. If Leandre and Yael weren’t there, he was going to have to have Cruz, Brie, or even Div help him locate them. With what they were dealing with at the moment, he was hoping not to have to bother them, but at the same time he wanted to ensure that nothing further had gone wrong. Deciding he had to change it in order to find out then taking a deep breath, he raised his hand up and gave the door a solid knock.

There was a sense of relief that flooded through his veins like a tsunami coming ashore when he heard Leander’s deep voice from within telling him to enter by name. Obviously his presence had been sensed; sometimes he was glad that he resided with those with supernatural powers and not with humans without. Now that he’d found them, he could assess the situation and then let Brie know the status of everything when he was done. She was worried, but had thought it best to let Deacon and Leandre handle things for the time being, especially after all that had transpired in the garden. Since they were going to be Yael’s guides in Imperium, they all needed to learn to lean on one another, and Yael needed to know that she was safe with the two men. No one thought that this would be the last time that she had a bad reaction to someone or something she was not expecting, unfortunately. “Hey, when you didn’t come back, I wanted to come and see how you two were doing.” Deacon had only opened the door enough to get through and closed it behind him. He could see Yael sitting on the couch, her knuckles white as she had a death grip on Leandre’s hand. The other male had a rather bemused smirk on his face with brows raised, as if the answer to Deacon’s inquiry was self-evident. Yael had been eating something, her cheeks slightly rounded out like a hamster caught shoving seeds in its cheeks. Deacon tried not to chuckle.

“I wondered when you’d show up.” Leandre said with a smirk his voice slightly amused. He’d known it was Deacon from the feel of his energy over the protective ward he had over the suite of rooms, which is why he hadn’t had to rise to let the male in. Had he not recognized the feel of the person, the reaction would have been quite different and far mor violent. Yael was not at all relaxed, but that’s what he was there for, to be her calm and protection until she got her feet under her.

“Sorry if I startled you.” Deacon blushed a little as he headed over towards the couch the other two were seated on, a plethora of food before them. Yael was slowly chewing now and she still looked like that caught hamster, and it was taking all of his will not to laugh. He was afraid that might embarrass her, which was something that he didn’t want, but the scene before him was rather “cute”. At least some of the food that the kitchen had prepared for the ball that was supposed to have been that evening wasn’t going to waste, and he was sure that Yael could use something to keep her busy and why not food? Nephilim had high metabolism, and if she felt up to it, he and Leandre could take her on a little tour of the quieter parts of the Palace that had some lovely views of the grounds and countryside. There had also been the offers of dinner or drinks later with her sister as well. Time would tell how well any of that would go.

Yael swallowed then took a sip of the large glass of water that was hers on the coffee table in front of her. “I guess I’m just a little jumpy.” She could feel her cheeks heat as she looked at Deacon as he sat on the other side of her. She popped a tater tot in her mouth to keep her from saying something that would get her shushed by Leandre again and once more chewed. She had lost count of the tater tots around 100, they were covered in cheese, bacon, and chives. As her eyes dropped, she noticed the death hold she had on Leandre’s hand and looked over at him with a slightly mortified expression, only to find him amused. She guessed he was getting used to it, since his thumb swept the back of her hand softly. It helped her relax and made her stomach flop simultaneously.

“It’s understandable and you did nothing wrong. I’d hope Leandre here would have made that clear.” Deacon’s face was sympathetic and warm as he leaned over and took her free hand for just a moment. Her head swung back from looking at Leandre, who seemed to have come to terms with her nerves and just looked bemused by it all. “We are both here to help. He may better understand some of your nerves and fear, that does not mean that I will judge you for them either. Ok?” He squeezed her hand lightly before releasing. It was clear she was already comfortable with Leandre and he didn’t want to rush her into being comfortable with him as well. He had no doubt that would come with time and spending more time around one another..

“We have had that conversation, haven’t we little angel?” Leandre reinforced what Deacon was saying, his rich accent rounding out each word and giving them a life and depth of their own. His hand not currently in her death grip, lightly ran over her hair in the back. He had found that it helped both of them to relax, an interesting discovery indeed. “I think we’ll find ourselves working all well together.” Changing focus to Deacon, their blue eyes that were almost of matching hues, met and remained trained on one another in some unspoken communication in addition to the words that followed. “And possibly your best friend can help as well when he has a little time can assist in helping the demons of the past to stay at bay. Nightmares as well too, since it is hard to be able to think clearly when one cannot sleep, or is even afraid to.” He continued, referring to Talon. The demi-god had powers over the mind and emotions. While he could not force her to feel if she truly did not want to, he could put blocks up for her to help her learn to control her fear on her own. Thenasus might be able to help as well. Leandre had considered both, but Thenasus was the larger and more intimidating of the two. Talon normally came off more like a quiet nerd than a powerful demi-god warrior. Deacon met Yael’s eyes with a warm smile, “Talon will be happy to help as much as he can, I have no doubt. And you can have girl time with Delilah.” The corners of his eyes creased more as the corners of his mouth continued to lift. “You are not alone in any of this, Yael. Don’t ever forget that you aren’t just stuck with Leandre and I. If you want to hang out with any of the females, all you have to do is let someone know. We’re not jailers and this isn’t a prison that you’re being kept in. This is your home and you should feel like it is. It is a massive place, but once you’re used to it, it doesn’t seem nearly as big as it looks.” Deacon gave her a wink before he remembered he had news he needed to share with the two of them. “That reminds me…there will not be a ball tonight. There was some…excitement after you left that put yours to shame.” He had to tease a little and was relieved when Yael’s only reaction was to drop her eyes and pinken in the cheeks, then shove another cheese covered tot in her mouth.

Chew, chew, chew, chew. Try not to die on the spot. “I’m not sure that could happen.” Yael’s voice actually had some amusement in it when she finally answered, and she was smiling. The two men in the room were helping her to relax and that was helping her to find a little humor in things. Other than Cruz and Arch, it was the first time she’d be in the company of men, even Michael, without feeling a sense of fear and dread. That she had only met them that day, and Deacon only for a few minutes before Leandre had to bring her to this room, again was something she did not understand. She was sure that she would come to, but for now she would continue to eat tater tots and not think about it, it seemed the easiest.

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palaceofimperium · 2 years

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OLLY

Ollandrius Theodorakus Horastus Damascos Aggelos

700 years old, he has known Cruz, Dez, and Deacon since he was a Nephilim apprentice. The four were as close as brothers, with Dez’s believed death striking him especially hard. Now serving with Cruz’s sister and her having been Dez’s partner, he is fiercely protective of her. Mourning Dez himself and knowing how much Cruz treasures his sister, he will not allow his “brother” to suffer a loss that could potentially destroy the elder Nephilim. Since serving as a fellow Horseman with her, he has started looking at her as his younger sister as well, making his protective nature even stronger.

His father being the Flamekeeper of the Eternal Flame of Heaven, he can wield fire as easily as he can breathe. His mother discovered this when he was but 2 years old and he set his crib ablaze, giggling and making the fire swirl about the room. While normal fire cannot harm him, he has found that if Brie sets him ablaze, it does cause wounds even if they are far less severe than if he were any other Nephilim. He has, on occasion, set a fellow Nephilim ablaze due to his short temper, something that he shares with Cruz and has caused them to be compared often through the years.

Before the calling of the Horsemen, he had served in the Athens Clave since he began his training at age 12. He speaks four different versions of Greek along with Hebrew, Latin, Italian, Spanish, Arabic, and English. There are some that say that his father has taught him some Angelic as well, but he has never demonstrated this in front of others; and asking him to will get you set ablaze in very short order.

War, Conquest, and Death...three things that are normally thought of that go closely together, and they are three Horsemen that are the most like family. While they all love and respect Deacon, the relationship each of them have with him is different than they have with each other. Although Deacon won’t admit it, he slightly envies the closeness of the others.

Now Dez has returned he is battling between wanting to rip the male’s head off and being overjoyed at his return. As for the Princes, he would gladly band together with Dez, Cruz, and Deacon to take them all down. With the changes that are coming in Imperium, he may get the chance…and possibly some new allies in the fight..or some new adversaries to take out first.

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