#he’ll smite anyone he wants
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I’ve seen people say that they didn’t like Ares in the show because he wasn’t “intimidating enough” or “scary.” Personally, I think Adam Copeland was a great choice.
This man is a 4-time WWE Champion, a 7-time World Heavyweight Champion, and a Triple Crown Champion. He is an award winning pro-wrestler, inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. This man knows violence. The idea of just standing next to him is intimidating.
His Ares is one who’s cocky and smug and laughs at the very idea of war. He treats conflict like a game because, to him, it is. He sees death and destruction as entertainment and he smiles like he’d sleep better after killing you.
Ares doesn’t need to be all gruff and serious in order to be intimidating, just the potential of danger of enough. You can tell by looking at him that, if he wants to be scary, he’ll be scary.
Adam Copeland is a fantastic Ares.
#and I stand by that#he’s six foot five and solid muscle#he’ll smite anyone he wants#and start twitter fights for fun#versatility#percy jackson and the olympians#the lightning thief#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo tv show#pjo disney+#percy series#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo series#pjo spoilers#percy jackson casting#adam copeland#ares pjo#frank zhang#rick riordan#riordanverse#pjotv#pjo tv series#Percy Jackson’s beef with ares#percy jackson show
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Hi!!!! May I please request the J squad (Gotham) separately with a reader who works at the police office and is kinda like their inside mole? Like they let them know plans to catch them and are also always willing to help them escape and stuff? THANK YOU ❤️
A/N: All jobs are associated with the GCPD. Slite nsfw on Jerome's end.
Gotham!Jerome Valeska
Job: Police Officer
Oh you little tattletale.
He’s not too surprised by your efforts in trying to keep him from getting caught.
Hell practically half if not most of his followers are or used to be coppers before joining him.
You’re no exception.
Expect to get anonymous calls from him talking and asking about anything other than any more information on Gordon being on his tail or big plans the precinct has been working toward.
For example, one day he called you while on shift to just say, “When are ya gettin’ off cop doody?”.
He has a printed and digital copy of your work schedule.
As we see in Season 4,he has complete control over Arkhams guards and prisoners, even saying that he wants to make a show of his escape, further displaying the extent of his 'showman complex'.
For the sake of the prompt, if he had any minor inconveniences with his little escape he wouldn’t turn down you assisting him in his plans.
Though do keep in mind his showman complex and that unless you want to be discovered as a traitor, you’ll need to discuss with him a plan where you won’t be seen as an accomplice.
He’ll leave little gifts for you on your desk mostly to show his appreciation for all that you’ve done for him.
How he gets them there, you’re not too sure.
If you don't care for his gifts, he'll offer other ways to show his appreciation. (I'm winking under the eyepatch)
Gotham!Jervis Tetch
Job: Doctor
“Twinkle, twinkle, pretty doctor, how I long to unlock her. In this asylum, you shine with smite, but in my heart, you are my light.” (Yes, this is similar to him and Lee’s interaction.)
When he got sent to Arkham, there wasn’t much he was looking forward to.
Except getting back out on Gotham streets and getting revenge on James Gordon.
But when he meets you? Now there’s something to look forward to.
Once he realizes you’re on his side and help him escape the first time, expect to hear from him often.
Quite often in fact.
When he gets sent to Arkham a second time, doctor visits and check ups are a lot more fun now.
It’s like two kids in kindergarten, passing secret notes to one another while the teacher isn’t looking.
Some being about a plan for his escape while others are all laughs and giggles.
He is a gentleman when it comes to showing his gratitude for your assistance.
That is if he likes you of course.
Gotham!Jonathan Crane
Job: Forensic science technician
When you first met, Jonathan didn’t trust you.
In fact he hated you.
Anyone associated with the GCPD and Jim Gordon, he hated.
He blamed you all for the death of his father.
It took a bit of time and patience for him to fully trust you.
Even when you started becoming a full time mole for him, he still kept you at an arms length.
No matter how often you’d update him on the GCPD and their plans, or Jim Gordon’s whereabouts, he’d just give a vague form of acknowledgment or confirmation in your words.
The only reason he started to put his whole trust in you was when you started showing interest in his experiments.
Especially his toxin.
He starts enjoying your company more when you start helping him perfect his toxin.
You both find out it comes in handy that you’re able to get information on your former colleagues' fears without any suspicion.
He’s able to find weak points in practically every police officer in the precinct.
He starts showing his gratitude for your help later on.
Though he does tend to act vague about it.
#j squad#jerome valeska#jerome valeska fluff#jerome valeska headcanon#jerome valeska imagine#jerome x reader#jerome valeska x reader#jerome valeska preference#jonathan crane#scarecrow#dc scarecrow#jervis tetch#gotham jervis#gotham headcanon#gotham fandom#gotham x reader#gotham#batman villians x reader#batman villains#jervis tetch x reader#batman rogues x reader#batman rogues#dcu#gotham imagine#j squad x reader#netflix gotham#gotham jervis tetch#gotham jerome#gotham jervis tetch x reader#gotham villains x reader
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Hi, could I ask for some Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader? I just love how you write 😭
Remember to drink water and rest when needed!
Enjoy the milkshake! Now since I already did some yandere headcannons I will have this be more general for how he acts :3
Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie
Scenario parts one & two
-platonic or romantic insinuation-
!TW! Under the cut this will have themes like obsession, possessiveness and manipulation
Shadow Milk as a yandere would be very affectionate but not overly affectionate
He’s like a cat, while he can crave for attention he can and will smack your hand away
Now Shadow Milk is pretty possessive
If anyone tries to snatch you away weather that be for your safety he will smite them, it would be ten times worse if it was the other beasts or Elder Faerie. But god forbid that it’s that fool Pure Vanilla, he will lose it.
Now Shadow milk is a playwright, poet, director, actor, clown and trickster so he can definitely entertain you
Shadow Milk will preform the sweetest love stories that are actually kinda disturbing
This man will do his best to make you laugh with his jokes which are sometimes disturbing
But this man is a poet, so rest assured he will read you the most flowery poems that can leave you giggling or on the floor blushing a bright red his poems do get really intense at times though
The worst thing about this man is that he constantly has an eye on you, so even if you tried to escape you physically couldn’t
If you tried to escape more than one he’ll probably tie you up
He will just coo at you and tell you how silly you are! He secretly is pissed
He wouldn’t want to deceive you but he will to make you like him more
Overall his possessive nature is the biggest problem in this relationship
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Fuck it Friday + Last Line Tag Game
tagged by @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @bonheur-cafe @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz
here’s more demon!buck/angel!eddie with the last little scene i wrote
A few days later, Buck confronts Taylor about her expose.
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“Do what on purpose?” Taylor tosses her red hair over her shoulder, and she’s trying not to smirk at him. She knows what he’s talking about, she just wants him to say it.
“The brownies. Did you make us all eat the brownies?” That day is still a little fuzzy. Back in ancient times, Buck found that the only way he can get high like humans is if he takes harder drugs. He hasn’t taken LSD since the 1960’s, a time he barely remembers except that he helped make a lot of people feel good during quite a few orgies. Although he knows Taylor didn’t put the LSD in the brownies herself, if she somehow knew about it, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out that she tempted everyone to have a piece to make her expose on the 118 more interesting.
“You really think I need to tempt you to eat a brownie? Come on.” When Buck keeps glaring at her, Taylor heaves an annoyed sigh. “No, I didn’t. If I did I would make sure everyone had a brownie. That one human – Chimney wasn’t it? – didn’t get dosed, remember?”
Vaguely. All he remembers is suddenly feeling like more of a giant then getting handcuffed. The most concerning part was seeing Eddie freak out. Trying to calm him down as they were put in Athena’s patrol car. He thinks he might’ve offered to tempt Eddie into becoming calm? He also thinks Eddie agreed. If Athena heard or saw, hopefully she thought it was just nonsense produced from the drug.
“But you did something. There’s no way you simply did this without trying to do some kind of temptation.”
“I tempted,” Taylor admits. “But don’t you worry about it. In fact, if I were you, I’d worry about that little angel you’re working with. If you’re not careful, he’ll smite you.”
She leaves in the news van. Buck scoffs at her advice. Eddie’s never going to smite him. He has no reason to. He’s seen Buck’s power and deemed it safe. He even thinks it’s funny sometimes, the things he does. Buck has nothing to worry about.
tagging @hippolotamus @911-on-abc @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @apothecarose @mammameesh @wildlife4life @forthewolves @fortheloveofbuddie @rmd-writes @liminalmemories21 @wandering-night19 @vampbuckley @alrightbuckaroo @giddyupbuck and anyone who wants to share cause im on mobile and im too lazy to look up people properly
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Could you make a cg Sam Winchester or gabriel head cannon please?
Caregiver Gabriel headcanons
idk if you wanted little reader but that’s what I went with
warnings: talk of canon-typical violence
He loves to give you sweets and treats, though he does make an effort to give you balanced diet when he can
He’s very funny in general but when you’re regressed he does everything he can to make you laugh
If you get upset while he’s watching you he panics for a split second, probably rushing to try and take any physical pain you’re in and if that doesn’t work he’ll scoop you into his arms and rock you till you calm down
He’s really big on cuddling and him holding you
He’ll carry you anywhere you ask him to, strength doesn’t really play a part considering his supernatural abilities
Sometimes he’ll take you to a place where he can spread his wings and maybe fly around with you — it makes him nervous so it’s a 50/50
The only people he trusts to babysit you are Castiel, Sam & Dean
The Winchesters seem like unlikely partners but he knows they’d fight to the ends of the earth for you if it ever came to it
He doesn’t like leaving you alone anywhere, yes he could check in on you cause he’s an Angel but he’d rather you be close to him
So so soooooo protective it’s not funny
Has & will continue to smite down anyone or anything that tries to harm you
Probably has beef with Crowley cause of how many demons who were “just trying to do their job” he killed, Gabe doesn’t care one bit
Pulls out the most obscure nicknames known to man
Will occasionally talk to you in hebrew while trying to lull you to sleep, he technically knows every language but hebrew is his favorite as it’s the one he’s most used to aside from english
Will get you whatever toy or plush you want
Not a huge rules guy but there’s set ones you have to follow or he’ll think up some punishment (never anything harsh)
Likes to tell you stories about “what really happened” when the world was being made
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i’m going to bash my head into a wall if i don’t get this all out NOW but something really clicked into place once i finished good omens 2.
i’ve always wondered how dark the show was going to go when it came to it’s critism of Christianity. however,, this season really solidified it for me that they are going to dig deep.
the confession scene between aziraphale and crowley really came across to me as one religiously traumatised person desperately trying to show another deeply religiously traumatised person the flaws in organised religion and how it isn’t everything. that there’s this whole beautiful world outside of being ‘pure’ and ‘holy’. it isn’t worth it. life might be absolutely meaningless and we might be incomprehensibly irrelevant in comparison to this vast universe but at least we have each other. isn’t that enough? aren’t i enough? can we not be each other’s meaning in life?
crowley knows more than anyone how corrupted heaven is. how it chews up and spits out anyone who questions the status quo. crowley asked questions and he lost everything. he fell. as a result,, he had to completely uproot his old identity as an angel and build himself up again. and i think his bravery in just completely bearing his whole self to aziraphale proves how much he’s grown. he isn’t ashamed of his love for aziraphale,, doesn’t view their relationship as the problem but instead the toxic heaven and hell as the issue. he’s okay with leaving behind the system of heaven and hell - of good and evil. he recognises that that kind of black and white thinking doesn’t help anyone. although he may be an outcast for it,, he knows he’ll be alright as long as he has aziraphale by his side. we’ve seen multiple times now that crowley is more than willing to just up and leave earth and give up everything as long as he’s with aziraphale. freedom is not scary to him - it’s something he desperately desires actually. he doesn’t have to rely on god or heaven or even frankly his role as a demon to be confident in himself. the system’s fucked and they’re all alone and only have each other and he’s fine with that. as long as it’s him and aziraphale against the world.
aziraphale,, on the other hand,, has yet to find solace in the loneliness of it just being him and crowley. we see during the story of job flashback that once aziraphale realises he isn’t as angelic as he thought he was,, that he’s only willing to go along with heaven’s plans so far,, he is crushed. the weight of the situation - him losing his picture perfect view of heaven - destroys him. he’s alone. and he hasn’t really moved on from this initial realisation. yes he’s grown in other respects (e.g. he’s a lot braver now when it comes to standing up to heaven and the archangels than he was at the beginning) but he’s still stuck in that moment. this angel is traumatised!! the deal with the metatron is his chance to prove himself in a way. to prove that he isn’t this impure,, traitorous angel. he can fix the system. heaven is actually the answer. it may need a little sprucing up but at it’s core good always triumphs evil. and crowley’s good so he must be deserving of becoming an angel so maybe they can finally be together and their relationship won’t be wrong.
and it’s just this painful justification for aziraphale to return to the place that abused him for so many centuries. self-sabotage at it’s finest. he doesn’t know life outside of being an ‘angel’. it’s an intrinsic part of who he is even though at this point he’s more human than anything else. throughout the series we see him attempt to present as this stereotypical,, fearless angel who smites evil at every turn. during the story of job flashback he attempts to appear as a messenger of god to the humans but they don’t take him seriously. he insists to the archangels that he will shape the antichrist into a good person despite the fact that the whole point is that adam will actually bring about armageddon and they just laugh at him. he wants to be pure and holy so bad!!
this has been bubbling beneath the surface for literal millennium and it’s finally cost him everything. it was always going to get in the way of his and crowley’s relationship. his unresolved trauma has convinced him that his love for crowley is his hamartia. but if he takes this deal maybe,, just maybe,, they can be together. in the holy way of course. crowley will have to give up his personal growth and return to the place that chucked him out like a dog bone just to become a part of the system he’s been fighting against for so long.
to be clear,, i don’t think aziraphale realises this and wouldn’t ever wish for crowley to have to conform but he doesn’t realise that by rejoining heaven that’s literally what they will be doing. heaven is the pinnacle of the status quo - distant and cold with not a sign of love in sight. it’s not the right place for them at all. i think aziraphale is being simultaneously selfless and selfish in choosing to become the archangel supreme: obviously he’s giving up living on earth and more importantly crowley so he can rebuild heaven but he seems to also be doing this to sooth his own self-hatred.
everything ties back to his feelings of inferiority and that he isn’t good enough. no matter how many times crowley screams at him that he’s better than all of heaven and hell combined he’s not going to leave heaven behind until he recognises his own self worth. he loves crowley for defying his destiny as a demon and being a kind person but he can’t seem to love himself for doing the exact same. he needs to find himself before he can truly leave heaven behind along with his faith. and in a way i think aziraphale did a long time ago on that cliff with crowley but ever since then he’s just been trying to convince himself that he still believes in the almighty.
#this isnt a perfect analogy (i think this scene more accurately is social commentary on corrupted systems that can’t be fixed#from the inside like azira wants to#but this scene really spoke to me lol#and also made me want to throw my laptop across the floor#good omens#good omens 2#good omens 2 spoilers#go2 spoilers#good omens spoilers#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#crowley#crowley good omens#aziraphale good omens#good omens analysis#good omens meta
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*slides a reverse card* Maybe now a Monkey kings being simps? (sorry if my english is not very understandable 😶💖)
Oh hell yeah I can!!
Romantic
Gender not specified
He’s a simp
Nezha reborn sun Wukong
He’s so obvious about it, I swear to god it’s he couldn’t be more obvious is he put a sign with bright flashing lights on himself. He is such a damn simp He’s always around you and complementing you like-
“Hey! That a new dress?-oh oh it is!! Looks good! Real good! Haha!”
So yeah he’s obviously a simp like- he’s gonna be complementing you and be all over you.
Reborn sun Wukong
Oooohhh!! He’s never gonna admit it. Like at all. But the only way you’ll know he’s a simp is when he’ll compliment you. Because he doesn’t compliment just anyone!! Okay?? He’s the great monkey king! So when he’s compliments you it’s something serious.
“You acceptional fighting skills-“
Like his compliments may not seem like anything. But to him it’s everything I am just saying.
DOTA2 sun Wukong
Oh he’s all over you, he’s complimenting you and flirting with you. He’s looking you up and down and he’s almost always around. And even tho he’s a damn simp he’s so smooth about everything-
“Y’know i find you absolutely enchanting~”
He’s a simp but he’s a calm simp. He knows what he’s doing.
SMITE sun Wukong
OH MY GOD! He seems so well put together and can but he’s falling over himself. One moment he’s completely calm and incontrol and then you walk up- and he’s falling apart. He just wants your attention. He just wants to tell you how well your doing.
“Your extremely strong- do you think you could show me how that move was done?”
He uses training or meditation as excuse to get time with you.
LEAGUE OF LEGENDS sun Wukong
Oh my god. It’s hilarious. He’s all tough and hot as he’s throwing compliments at you. But when you give him your attention?? Oh!! It’s like watching a love sick puppy! It absolutely hilarious!!!
“We’ll- I-you- Y’know you look great-“
It’s absolutely adorable, he’s like a little puppy! Praise him and give him attention!
LEGO sun Wukong
Oooohhhhh!!! Are you ready to see this man fall all over himself?? Cause it’s funny!! He’s showing off! And he’s complimenting you! He’s doing everything he can to get your attention!! Just to have your beautiful eyes on him
“Hey peaches!! Wanna see me do a trick??”
He’s giving you a whole Damn Arsenal of nicknames I swear.
LEGO macaque
Oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!! This man! One moment he’s acting cold and cool the next he’s blushing and asking you for help with his bandages and commenting on how beautiful you are. He can’t help! Especially when your right in front of him!
“You know …your eyes…they remind me of stars…”
He has no idea how smooth he is until he steps back and realises what he said
Masterlist
#monkie kid#lmk monkey king#monkie kid macaque#smitexreader#sun wukong#sun wukong x reader#x reader#lmk macaque#lmk sun wukong#monkie kid monkey king#smite gods#smite#dota2#league of legends#nezha reborn#monkey king reborn
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Heaven is a Place on Earth
Dean Winchester x (gn) Reader
Request: Would you mind write a dean x guardian angel!Reader fic, I don't have any specific prompt but make it angsty pls thank you
Summary: After Cas is killed by Lucifer, a strange new Angel turns up claiming to have been sent by him. Dean doesn't like the sound of it, but maybe a Guardian Angel is what he's needed all along.
Warnings: Spoilers for season 13, angst
Word count: 3,097
Castiel was dead, and Dean was distraught. Burning his body on that pyre was the worst thing he'd had to do in a long time, maybe even the worst. At least when something bad happened to Sammy, Cas was always there to save the day. But now, he was gone, and the brothers were feeling the weakness of their humanity more than ever.
In the days after, Sam urged Dean to get out of the bunker and search for the Nephilim. If anyone could bring the Angel back, it was bound to be him at the end of the day. But Dean could barely think about that being, let alone face him. So when they pulled up at that crappy little diner, he couldn't even fathom going in, letting his brother do the work while he pounded the back door.
"Okay, Chuck... or God, or whatever. I need your help. See, you– you left us. You left us. You went off. You said...you said the earth would be fine because it had me... and Sam, but it's not, and we're not.
We've lost everything... and now you're gonna bring him back. Okay? You're gonna bring back Cas, you're gonna bring back Mom, you're gonna bring 'em all back. All of 'em. Even Crowley.
Cause after everything that you've done, you owe us, you son of a bitch. So you get your ass down here and you make this right, right here and right now."
Nothing. Not that Dean was surprised. He'd come to set his expectations lower than low at this point.
"He's not listening, Dean. I'm sorry."
Whipping his gun out, Dean spun round to the source of the voice. It was soft, gentle and kind, but he was still wary.
"The hell are you?" He demanded, shaking slightly at the sight of you. Illuminated by the sun, your skin practically glowing and your hair blew gracefully in the breeze.
"My name is Y/N. Castiel sent me."
"Cas? He's alive?"
You gulped at your mistake in sparking hope.
"No, no I'm sorry. What I meant was, he sent me before. I was to come if something happened to him."
"So you're an Angel?" Dean lowered the gun hesitantly, gingerly taking a step towards you.
"Yes. And I swore to Castiel that I would care for you where I could."
The hunter snorted and you winced at his harshness. "I don't need caring for. That's ridiculous. Cas was my friend, not my guardian angel or whatever."
You took a tentative step forward. "Please, Dean. I can help you. I've been keeping tabs on you and your brother for a long time now, and I can help you with the Nephilim."
"Can you bring him back? And my Mom? Crowley?"
"No, I'm sorry-"
"Then you're no help to me. Now get out of here before I smite you off this planet."
You watched him walk away, back to the Impala with tears in your eyes. You knew the Winchester boy was damaged, and you'd seen how him and Castiel interacted. There was a special kind of love there which he was grieving. That was a human emotion you knew you'd never be able to feel yourself, but you could understand it. Castiel had understood it too, which was why he'd sent you here to watch over Dean. He needed you, but it was just a matter of time before he realised that.
“Dean!” You scrambled after him, fist clenched. He pivoted on his heels, groaning and raising his eyebrows with eyes squeezed closed.
“Just-just let me come with you. To find the Nephilim. I can talk to him.”
Dean huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “You know about that?”
“Of course. And I know he’s scared. He’s part Angel, I’m an Angel - maybe he’ll talk to me.”
You had no clue if that was true or not, but it was worth a try. You’d promised Castiel you’d look out for Dean, but you also knew he had a close connection with Kelly Klein and he’d want you to watch over the boy too.
“Fine,” Dean motioned for you to follow him and you scrambled along to catch up. He made you nervous but you couldn’t quite pinpoint why yet.
The drive was tense and speechless. Dean played his music loud, and it was a sound that took a while for you to adjust to. But by the time you pulled up at the sheriffs office, you had relaxed into it, finding yourself bobbling along and humming the tune.
Naturally, Dean was hesitant around the Nephilim. But the child was scared, thrown into a new world he knew little about. While you felt the younger Winchester was adjusting just fine, you saw it as your mission to help build the relationship between Jack and Dean. That said, Jack wasn't the only one facing a whole new world. Having just arrived on Earth yourself, hunting was something you had to learn rapidly, and you were unsure about. Your whole existence was based on love and caring, on making sure the human race thrived. Now, with a blade thrust in your hand, you were being instructed to fight.
"Dean...I don't know if I can do this." You stopped him one evening as he was packing up to follow a new lead surrounding Lucifer's whereabouts. Jack and Sam were packing the car, and Dean was chucking the last few bits into a bag when he felt your hand tug on his flannel lightly.
"What do you mean Y/N? C'mon, we've gotta get moving," he dismissed you, shrugging you off. You gripped tighter and squeezed, making Dean pause. Of course, he was always conscious you were an Angel, but you rarely exerted your true strength around him. In fact, more than often he could convince himself you were just another human being. But now, held steadily in his place, he took a deep breath. Turning back to you, his heart broke as you bit your lip, desperately trying not to let a tell-tale tear slip down your cheek.
"I'm not him, Dean." You whispered with a gulp. "I'm not Castiel. I'm not a fighter. I wish I was, I really do; I'm a Guardian Angel for goodness sake, I'm supposed to be a protector. These past few weeks, I've tried so hard but...I'm sorry. I've let you both down. Castiel expected better from me..."
"No. Stop." You tilted your head up as Dean's rough fingers cupped your chin, his other hand on your shoulder reassuringly. "You've not let anyone down, Y/N. Cas, he knew I could hold my own. He didn't send you to fight for me. He didn't want to you be someone you're not."
"But how am I meant to protect you if I can't fight?"
Dean gave you a lopsided smile. "You don't have to fight to protect someone, ya know. I don't think Cas sent you to physically protect me from monsters. He knew I could do that myself. I think he sent you to protect me up here-" he tapped his temple lightly - "to protect me from myself."
You sniffled and frowned, unsure what he meant. "Y/N, sometimes I can get in my head a lot. Hell, after Cas...after Cas died, I did. But you, you've pulled me out. I know I wasn't the nicest to you when we first met, but honestly, you've saved me. So you don't have to fight, Y/N, not physically. But I need you here still, to fight for me, against me. You think you can do that?"
You nodded, letting him brush away your tears and smiled. "C'mon, lets load up. You don't have to do anything, but we're gonna need you for moral support. Oh, and those amazing psychic Angel powers too."
Things changed after that. You became the Winchester's confidant, and you supported them on each and every hunt with intel only you could gather. You felt Dean start to thrive again, and you took pride in knowing you were actually making a difference. Even Sam had stopped you one night to thank you for being around, for being the ray of sunlight his brother needed. Dean laughed more now, he relaxed on days off. He enjoyed teaching you human things, and laughed when you and Jack attempted something he thought so mundane but the two of you found incredibly mortal. You were part of their small, dysfunctional family now, and you couldn't imagine it any other way.
Sure, you were having a positive impact on Dean, but what he didn't know was that he was having the same on you. As you spent more time together, you were starting to feel actual emotions. Happiness, anger, upset, frustration, hurt, hate. All these things you'd never even believed in when you were in Heaven, and now they were flooding you. It was amazing. Everyone in the little group had the same impact on you, but with Dean, it was markedly different. There was another emotion, one that felt like another you shared with Sam and Jack, but more emphasised. With them, you wanted to keep them safe, you wanted to keep them happy, you wanted to care for them. They were your family now. But with Dean, it was all that and more. You wanted to hold onto him and never let go. You wanted him to stare at you with those gorgeous green eyes until they burned through your skull. You wanted to nestle into his flannels, coat yourself in his scent. This new emotion, this thing you couldn't name for so long, gnawed at you. It scared you, too, which was why you never spoke about it, never asked Sam what it was. You just stayed quiet, and hoped to figure it out with time.
Because, at the end of the day, you supposed you had all the time in the world. You hadn't even considered that might not be the case. That was, until you were sitting in the back of the Impala, returning from a ghost hunt. You'd already scolded Dean for his little 'momentary death' stunt, trying not to let him know that it had scared the shit out of you. Seeing him dead was something you never wanted to witness again, especially by his own hand. But then the phone rang.
"Yeah?...What..." Dean froze in the front seat, his hand hovering by his ear. Sam frowned at him and you pulled yourself forward, peering between the seats. Without warning, you were flung backwards as Dean stepped on the gas, driving full pelt into the darkness. He wouldn't say a word, no matter how much you and Sam pressed him. He was in shock, and it was clear he didn't want to say anything incase whatever he had just been told was a lie. You resisted going into his head, knowing no good would ever come out of that.
The first light you saw was that of a phone box, positioned on the left down a dampened alleyway. A figure stood outside it, facing away, shrouded in a long coat. You blinked to try get a clearer view of the figure as you drew closer, but Sam and Dean had leapt from the car before it had even stopped. You climbed out slowly behind them, a feeling of dread filling your vessel's bones. It was him. The being that had sent you here. The dead being that had sent you here.
"Cas, is that really you?" Dean's voice hitched in his throat as his best friend turned round.
"No. You're-you're dead," Sam couldn't believe his eyes. Neither could you. How could you not have known Castiel was alive? Surely something on the Angel radar must have gone off?
"Yeah, I was. But then I… annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back." You studied the Angel's face closely, questioning the truth.
Sam shook his head with disbelief. "I don't even know what to say."
"I do." Dean stepped forward, arms out. "Welcome home, pal." He gripped onto the Angel tight, embracing him in a way that made you flinch. Dean had never hugged anyone like that before. Not Sam, not Jack, not you.
As the three of them hugged, you found yourself tiptoeing back. Your breath was all caught up, not that you even needed to breathe, but all of a sudden you felt incredibly human. Vulnerable; that was a feeling only a human could feel. Because at that moment, you could name it. You could name that feeling that plagued you when you were around Dean, the one you couldn't name for so long. Now you knew was it was. And it wasn't a good one.
"Y/N?" As Cas finished hugging Sam, he looked over the brother's shoulders, having seen your figure lingering. He frowned at the silence.
"The hell they'd go? They were here a second?" Dean scratched his head in confusion and Sam shrugged. They were too happy to have Cas back to worry about anything else. Wherever you had gone, they were sure you'd turn up at some point.
In the end, it was them who caught up with you. You'd teleported straight back to the bunker to pack your things. You weren't needed now Cas was back, and you only hoped you could be gone before they got home.
Of course, you underestimated the speed Dean could get up to in that Impala.
"Y/N, you here?" You heard Dean holler as you stuffed your bag full. You tried to hurry, but the door flung open before you even had a chance. With a gasp, you pulled it against your chest, staring beady-eyed at the figure before it. It wasn't Dean; it was Castiel.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He approached you slowly, not turning the light on. "I haven't had a chance to thank you."
"Th-thank me?"
"Yes. For protecting Dean. I understand it can be, well, quite a challenging job at times. But you did good, as I knew you would. So I need to thank you."
"Oh, er, that won't be necessary, sir. You're back now, which is good, which is amazing! So, erm, I should be off." You mumbled as you tried to move past him.
"You're leaving?" Dean's broken words stopped you in your tracks. He emerged from behind the wall, turning the corner into your room. His eyes were wide with confusion, his mouth open slightly. "Why?"
Tears started running down your face. "You don't need me anymore. Castiel is back. My job is done."
Dean pushed pass Cas, blocking your exit. "Your job? Is that all this was to you? A job?"
"No, Dean, I just-"
"Cause from where I've been standing, I thought you wanted to be here. I thought you were part of the family, Y/N. I thought you were in this for the long haul. I didn't realise this - I didn't realise I - was just another job to you." Oh he was angry. This was anger.
"I'm sorry, Dean...I just figured you wouldn't need me anymore." You couldn't even look at him, although you could feel Castiel's disappointment as he glared at you.
"Castiel is back now. You don't need me."
"Of course I need you, Y/N. Don't get me wrong, I am over the moon that Cas is back, he's my best friend. But you were never a replacement for him. It hasn't gotta be one or the other, has it?"
"I..." you honestly didn't know what to say. You took a peak at Castiel, who only looked sad, before taking the risk and gazing up at Dean. To your horror, he was crying now too. But why? Had you upset him? How?
"Y/N, you are not the Angel I knew when I trusted you with this task. You've changed, like I have changed. Humanity teaches us many lessons, and I can see you've learned a lot." Castiel's wise words echoed into your vessel's brain. "I know its hard, but if there is one thing being on this Earth, and dying on this Earth, has taught me, its to be honest. Say how you feel, Y/N. Name it."
As you sobbed, you looked at him and he responded with a soft smile and nod, before sliding out the door back towards the kitchen. You whimpered as you caught Dean's eye, his face a contortion of confusion.
"Love," you breathed. "It's love I feel. I didn't know what it was, not for a long time. But now I know. I love you, Dean."
Dean's jawed dropped, and for a moment it felt like the universe froze. But then he took a step forward, and his hand took yours. "You do?"
You nodded, tears streaming. "I realised thats what it was when Castiel came back. But I figured you couldn't love me, not when I was just a placeholder for him. Thats why I had to leave."
With a sigh, Dean reached up and wrapped him arms round you, drawing you in close. He rested his chin on your head as you nestled your face into his flannel, just as you had dreamed.
"I love you too, Y/N." You wouldn't have believed your ears had you been human, but with your Angel hearing there was no mistaking it. He planted a kiss on your head before you pulled away, gazing up at him.
"You do? But...how?"
He chuckled. "All too easy. After Cas died, I could've gone down a very dark path. The only reason I didn't was because of you. Y/N, you pulled me back, you got me on the straight and narrow. You were never a replacement for him, you are something entirely different. You were exactly what I needed. Hell, I still need you. I've just got my best friend back. Don't make me lose the one I love now."
You nodded greedily, knowing now it all made sense. Castiel hadn't chosen you because you were a fighter, or because you were a peacemaker. There were plenty of other Angels he could have chosen if that was the case. No, he chose you because he knew the type of person Dean actually needed deep down, and he saw that in you.
"C'mon, Sammy's making enchiladas. I wanna eat some, and I wanna watch you and Cas watch us eating them. Lets go." He scooped an arm round your neck as he guided you down the hall, grins across both your faces.
Heaven could wait - this was your home now.
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x yn#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x guardian angel#dean winchester x angel reader#spn#sam and dean#sam winchester#spn x reader#dean winchester x y/n#spn fic#supernatural imagine#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#dean fanfic#supernatural dean#dean x reader#dean x yn#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fic#dean winchester oneshot#spn oneshot
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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍
❝ For almost as long as she’d known she was a half-blood, Lydia had wanted to go on a quest. Being an adventurous kid by nature (as well as a dramatic and overly perky kid, according to Camp Half-Blood’s notoriously surly head counsellor), she ached to venture out and retrieve some important magical object or face some terrifying monster on behalf of her father, to carry out a mission that would make for the summer of her life and get her some glory in the process.
Unfortunately for her, a quest didn’t seem to be the will of her father, Apollo - or of anyone else in her life, for that matter. Chiron kept insisting that she wasn’t ready, wasn’t trained enough, to put herself in danger like that; her moms, when she was home, practically forbade her to go even if her father did call her on one, not wanting her to be in danger; even her best camp friend Annabeth, for all she was desperate to go on a quest herself, didn’t think she was good enough to succeed. It didn’t even matter that Lydia was one of the rare Camp Half-Blood campers with an actual power from her godly heritage, that she could cause smaller wounds to heal if she just focused enough; she was always too cheerful, too trusting, too weak for anyone to take her seriously, let alone allow her to put herself in danger just because she wanted the thrill of adventure.
As much as it hurt - as much as she knew everyone else was wrong about her, they had to be - Lydia had resigned herself to always being blocked from what she wanted. She trained as hard as she possibly could every summer, in combat and survival skills and even honing her healing power, striving like Tartarus to be good enough that Chiron would finally deem her ready, and in the meantime, she hung out with Annabeth and dreaded going back to school when the summer ended and tried, always in vain, to get Mr. D to agree to let her arrange a camp-wide musical production. But she’s been going to Camp Half-Blood since she was seven, and now she’s twelve, and it’s starting to seem like the opportunity for her to go on a quest is never going to come… until Percy Jackson stumbles into camp having just killed a minotaur and is told he’ll have to locate Zeus’s Master Bolt and prevent an Olympus-wide war.
Seeing her chance finally arriving, and not about to let the fact that half-blood quests are typically done in threes stop her, Lydia sneaks out of camp and follows Percy, Grover, and Annabeth, gleeful when it’s too late to send her back by the time they even realize she’s come along. She’s absolutely thrilled to finally be taking part in a quest, to experience the high stakes and adventure she’s been aching for for so long - until their little band nearly gets turned to stone and killed by a chimera in rapid succession, and Lydia starts to think that maybe everyone was right about her not being ready for this after all.
Still, though, Lydia does have her best friend, a really nice satyr, and a sarcastic forbidden kid who’s actually kind of cute, as well as her typical bright smile, boundless determination, and arsenal of classic musical theatre songs. So maybe, just maybe, this quest that she isn’t even supposed to be on might not turn out so terribly after all.
If Zeus doesn’t smite her for helping the kid he suspects to be a thief. Or her father doesn’t smite her for going on a quest without his permission. Or her moms don’t ground her for life when they find out, or Chiron doesn’t give her that disappointed look he does so well, or all four of them don’t get killed along the way, or - okay, why did she leave camp again? ❞
General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @oneirataxia-girl, @ocappreciationtag.
#my ocs#introducing my ocs#ch: lydia chen#oc: lydia chen#fic: running down (to the riptide)#queerocs#fyeahocsofcolor#ocapp#ocappreciation#ochub#allaboutocs#fyeahpjoocs#fyeahpercyjacksonocs#pjo oc#percy jackson oc
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Familiar AU angst hours: I know I said that hunger makes demons weak and vulnerable, but what if it makes them revert back to a mindless state? The longer they go without consuming a soul the closer they are to becoming the feral monsters that they so look down on.
And ever since he became Ciel’s guardian Sebastian hasn’t made a contract with anyone, what with all the time consuming work that comes with caring for a young child. Of course, since demons are immortal they can go years without really starving, but the thing is Sebas had already been a bit hungry when he first found the child. Sure the prospect of raising a little human and gaining his trust so that he’d later decide to make a contract with him sounded fun, but years go by and the Phantomhive boy still doesn’t mention it.
Conflicted, strange feelings start swirling around inside Sebas. While he does care for the kid and even feels protective of him (in his own demon way), he has never stopped viewing him as a potential meal. But if the kid never offers him his soul, does that mean he should just leave? If Ciel grows up and doesn’t need help and guidance anymore, why stay? Saving him and keeping him alive was just an experiment, right? Right?
To make matters worse, he starts to worry when he finds himself often fantasizing about the flavor that the past trauma has added to the young soul. He’s always been a patient calm demon, so what’s going on? Demons can also smell souls, and Ciel’s is mouth watering, oh how he’d love to open up his jaws like a giant wolf and swallow him whole.
Oh no.
He’s losing his mind. He hasn’t even gone looking for souls of dying people all this time, as that goes against his aesthetic. And of course the idiot bastard hasn’t talked to anyone about this. Which is why he doesn’t know Ciel has been studying demonology behind his back, knows everything about demons and contracts and actually plans to make a contract, but what he wants is for Sebas to be his familiar, which means he’ll be bound to him until he dies of old age (the little shit does view him as a parental figure but also wouldn’t mind having a demon by his side to help him gain power and smite his enemies, boys amirite?).
I haven’t fully decided how the story goes from here, but maybe it gets to a point where hunger overcomes Sebas for a while and Ciel has no choice but to confront him and forcefully bind him with the knowledge he has acquired, maybe also with Agni’s help (they have met Soma and Agni by now, more or less at the same point in time as in canon). After Sebas has calmed down, Ciel makes a promise: if he stays with him all his life and becomes his sword and shield, he can have his soul in the end, effectively making him a familiar demon; and in the meantime he can take the souls of any enemies they may kill whenever he gets hungry.
Tl; dr: Scrawny Victorian orphan catches demon like a pokémon.
#not eli's art#text post#eli rambles#kuroshitsuji#kuroshitsuji au#kuro familiar au#black butler#black butler au#sebastian michaelis#dadbastian#mombastian#ciel phamtonhive#our ciel#ociel#o!ciel#i am going to create an au that is so self indulgent#not yoi
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The thing that’s partially so shit about the Supernatural ending, and why I have a hard time with heaven!fics is like… why does death matter. Why does literally any of it matter. If Heaven is getting to hang out with all your dead friends and family and getting whatever you want then why should we be upset Dean is dead? Why should Cas be upset? Whenever a fic has Cas being like “You were supposed to live your life.” I just. Why??? If he can do all the things he wants to do in Heaven but without any bullshit then why would anyone who cared about him have wanted him to do it on earth. What isn’t Cas happy that he’s dead. Why isn’t Jack’s first action after becoming God to smite Sam. You’re just leaving him on earth where he’ll have to pay rent?? How is that fair
#if death doesn’t matter then like#again what is the point#am I just describing the evangelical life experience right now#spn#op
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Jonathan Byers’ Bogus Journey
Read: Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4
Read on AO3
Day 1: 08/14/1987
Somewhere in Illinois, Route 50
I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to anyone about any of this. It was only supposed to be Steve and I on this road trip. And even that was a tough pill to swallow – having to ask Steve of all people for a ride. We still aren’t really on the best terms since the whole Nancy debacle and I don’t really blame him. It was fucked up what we did and he didn’t deserve it no matter how much of an asshole he was. But what can I say, I was desperate for a ride. I needed to get to Argyle in time for his birthday to surprise him, and I sure as hell don’t have money for a flight. Driving cross-country seemed like the best option – the only option if I’m honest. I was just lacking a car. Steve seems to be a guy with a lot of free time and money Steve is a nice guy, and I had nothing to lose by asking except maybe my pride. I didn’t really expect him to say yes after everything, but he did! I didn’t even have to sell him on the idea. But I knew it was too good to be true. Luck doesn’t run that way for a Byers.
Steve ran into Billy at the liquor store last Saturday and spilled about our little road trip, so of course Billy wanted in. Of everyone in Hawkins he would be the first in line if it meant getting out of middle-America and back to California. And he was the last person I wanted to be stuck in a car with for a couple of days. I still can’t tell if he’s bullying me or if he’s just like that with everyone. It usually feels like he is – like I’m not in on the joke. So, when he found me and asked me told me he was hitching a ride, I couldn’t say no. I panicked. I just had flashbacks of swirlies and getting shoved into lockers and said yes – like it would somehow spare me. It never had but it’s ingrained in me nonetheless. I guess I need to work on that.
Anyway, where Billy goes, Eddie goes. I should have seen that one coming. Of the three of them, I know Eddie the best. We were both on the lower rungs of the high school hierarchy and so our paths crossed often. He was also the man to go to for weed so there was that too. We’d smoke together, shooting the shit and talking about school and music. He isn’t such a bad guy. Maybe he’ll even keep Billy of my ba〽
“Watch it, Eddie! Ugh – dude, you made my pen slip!”
ba〽 back. But I also do not want to deal with him. He’s kind of a lot. Not to mention that he’s the reason we left Hawkins so late because he insisted we take his van. Yes, it’s more spacious for the four of us, but it’s also a piece of shit.
“Munson, sit the fuck down! Do you want to run us off the road?!”
“Yeah Munson, get your scrawny ass out of my face!”
“The metal gods will smite me if I don’t smash your stupid preppy mix tape, Harrington.”
“Let’s hope they do, asshole.”
“Turn it up, Byers!”
“Shup up, Billy! You’re not helping!”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“It’s blasphemy, I tell you! Blasphemy!! How dare you taint the sanctuary that is my metal chariot with Wham I will never forgive you, Stevie!”
“Hey! Hey! Driver picks the music, that was the agreement. Last time I checked, I’m the driver. Besides, we listened to your noise for four hours and put up with your bad driving and we never complained once! Get a grip, you big baby! …And don’t call me Stevie.”
They have been bickering non-stop since we left. Well, Steve and Eddie have. Eddie has been pushing Steve’s buttons just to get a rise out of him for his own entertainment. What he says is pretty harsh, but his teasing tone and smirk are a dead giveaway that he’s just messing with him. Well, maybe not to Steve because he takes the bait every time. Billy has been surprisingly calm so far and hasn’t said a whole lot. He doesn’t seem bothered by all the noise, where as I can feel a migraine coming on.
“Tsk, it’s bad enough that I’m stuck back here with only Billy for company. But now I can’t even listen to my own music in my own van?! I’m bored out of my mind. Like, seriously, I might as well be talking at a big…angry statue. Wha-ow! What was that for?”
“Why would I talk when you talk enough for the both of us? You’re exhausting.”
“But you loooove it!”
“Whatever.”
Oh yeah. How could I forget. Nancy has a sneaking suspicion there is something going on between Eddie and Billy. I’m not completely sold. Just because they’re pretty much inseparable, and terrorise the town together doesn’t mean there’s anything going on. Then again, Nancy can sniff out the truth in an instant. It’s like a sixth sense in a way. It’s kind of difficult for me to read people anyway, so what do I know. They’re a magnet for trouble for sure; drinking, smoking, loitering and God knows what else. They’re a weird combo. Like, it shouldn’t work, but it does. Maybe Nance was onto something.
“Barf!”
And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Steve might be a little jealous.
“Hey Byres, how far to the next gas station?”
“Uh, just a sec. Looks like we’re only about three miles out from the next town. There should be one there.”
“Yes! Great! Finally, a reprieve from Stevie’s shit taste in music! Full offence by the way.”
“If you don’t quit your whining, I’ll drive your precious ‘metal chariot’ into a tree. How about that, Munson?”
“Try it! I dare you, Harrington. See what happens.”
“Okay, the both of you, shut up. And eyes on the road, Steve, or we’ll end up wrapped around a tree for real.”
“Come here, idiot.”
“Steve started it.”
“You know he didn’t.”
“Hey! Whose side are you on?”
“The winning side. Always. And that ain’t you this time.”
“You wound me.”
“Want me to kiss it better?”
Okay so it’s confirmed, Eddie and Billy are a thing!!
“Alright, alright, knock it off. New rule. No PDA in close quarters.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Uh, as if.”
And Steve is definitely jealous. This is going to be the longest two days of my life!
#stranger things boys shenanigans#shenanigans and tomfoolery#road trip#stranger things road trip AU#road trip au#jonathan byers#eddie munson#steve harrington#billy hargrove#argyle#jonathan stranger things#eddie stranger things#steve stranger things#billy stranger things#jargyle#mungrove#metal sandwich#harringroveson#stranger things#stranger things 4#jonathan x argyle#eddie x billy#eddie x billy x steve
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Restarting Inquisition again since I’m preparing myself for Dreadwolf. So met my Ex-Templar Two Handed Warrior, Hell!
Name: “Hell” Trevelyan (Traitor name given to him by the Templar Order so no one knows his real name)
Age: 28 (30 in Trespasser)
LI: Iron Bull
Weapon style: Two Handed
Specialization: Once a Templar always a Templar
Job: Inquisitor (Former Templar)
A-Team (Usual allies he brings): Iron Bull, Sera and Dorian
B-Team (The weird ones): Varric, Blackwall and Vivienne
Nickname(s): Kadan and Iris
Meaning behind them: His relationship with Iron Bull and the flower symbolize his role as Inquisitor (Wisdom and Power/ Message and Promise/ Faith and Hope) and just as a cruel joke that Hell is the girl in his and Bull’s relationship from Varric
What happened to him after Trespasser?
Hell was last spotted with the Chargers. Wanting to continuing helping the weak, he became the second in command and being the teams mage disrupting force with his Templar skills. He only wore a cloak, some heavy armor and a sword to defend himself but he knows his new family got his back. Within a couple of months after everything is at peace, both he and Iron Bull were married. No one knows where but both enjoyed it as he’ll never have to leave Bill’s side again.
Codex (Just a made up one for him)
—— Trevelyan was once in the order of the finest Templar. Slew abominations, send mages to their towers and even was above the order. I said was because he became a traitor to the order. He was spotted with apostates near Kirkwall saving them from the Templars of his group. When he slayed them, the Knight-Commander branded him a traitor. And since no one asked him for his real name, they branded him the name Hell. He wore the Templar armor made in black ore and red leather to call himself the Blackguard of the Order. Since then, Hell been traveling around Thedas saving every mage he could find until the events of the Conclave which he was the last survivor. —A Templar scout during the events of the Conclave—
Now he dawns the title Inquisitor to protect everyone, even those who hated him, from a bigger threat. Rifts closing from left and right. The Rebel mages sided with him as allies. Grey Wardens in the ranks. The Red Templar order being slain by his blade. No matter what odds that is faced in front of him, he’ll be prepared. And ladies, don’t bother flirting with Hell (I guess the name is stuck to him). He’s taken by the leader of the Bull Chargers, the Iron Bull. The high heavens acting like his sword (literally his blade’s name) and shield, he sworn in to defend Thedas until the end. —Varric after the events of Inquisition—
Random Party Banter I made up
Varric: So Hell I got a great nickname for you!
Hell: Oh boy wonder what’s mine is going to be? Hope something that isn’t vulgar.
Varric: Heck no! My mind never goes that dirty. How about Iris?
Hell: Eh? A…feminine nickname? You do realize I’m a dude right?
Varric: I know but the flower really speaks to you. It symbolize the faith, power and even promise to be the Inquisitor, the leader of the Inquisition.
Hell: Ok I see what your doing there, Varric. I think I’ll take it. Better than Ruffles and Curly…
Iron Bull: Uh…Kadan…I think Varric is calling you the girl in the relationship…
Hell: Ugh, VARRIC!!
Varric: (Laughs) Got you, and it’s sticking, Iris.
Hell: Maker give me strength…to not smite the dwarf.
Varric: It’s not my fault you were the dress in the relationship.
End Credits joke
Cassandra: Let see what you wrote about our Inquisitor, Hell; Varric. A blade shines like a brilliant light. Rainbow of colors before you see your death. A former Templar armor coated in red and black. Hell has come to defend anyone who threats him. Starting with the Red Templars who was foolish to stand against him. ‘Hear the words of the Maker as I smite you all into the deeps of the Deep Roads! For help me that I’m the Inquisitor!’ That’s…scarily accurate.
Yes, Hell became First Thaw and makes a bear joke lol
(I also played as a Mage Qunari so I’ll add info about Sordidus Adaar)
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@angelmaker from here.
YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES : down the hallways he follows, slow for a time, goading her into coming out herself without a fight. YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER.
she cries, and it rattles through his skull like an animal’s scream. he’s sick. he’s so sick, shaking at the fists. the cloying scent of blood, rancid on her skin. it drags across his senses, invading every inch of his slaughterhouse scene. there she stands in the other room, his radar splaying her out clear. it’s a trail he could follow across hell’s kitchen, across new york, across the whole world. she can’t escape. if she does ... IF SHE DOES. what will be left for the bodies she left behind? not justice. all the people he could have saved if he had taken her by the throat the moment he’d found her, cut her down to size, turned her over and washed his hands clean -- clean enough. the dark spots will never come out now; the blood of her will stain him forever.
did he enjoy it? the love? it intoxicated, heavier than a drug. he couldn’t remember his own name. whatever that is, it’s not god. god’s down in the ditch and whatever’s left here now is a wet mound of meat, too human to be anything but eaten raw. unblessed, tainted. and he, he spits it from his mouth. he doesn’t want to hurt her, despite it all; not with his hands. he’ll never touch her again after this. never let her touch him again. when this is all said and done, if she thinks he’s some half-god of red-running justice, the smiting blow will come in his endless silence.
gone. gone is the man. the devil bleeds in the dark. this is his punishment. [ karen’s dead in his hands again, her body heat slipping through his gloves ] and it never ends. this is his punishment. this is-- this is what he must do. another one he can’t save. could never have saved. it’s time to end it.
slamming open the door, he steels his spine and his rotting gut to her screech, the way she coils in the corner, like she isn’t covered in the sticky viscera of her victims -- of his victims. ❝ i’m not letting you go again. ❞ oaths to the dark.
first steps slow, pacing, hands extended to grab her, yank her to him-- he misses it come : metal shings! in the air, infinitesimally quiet. did he think she wouldn’t fight -- did he think she wouldn’t try -- but he knows, he lunges-- the scramble for the KNIFE-- SPLIT SECOND too slow, and god the release, the wound, a cleansing slice. so sharp he barely feels the blade gut him in under the rib, clean, under the suit, hot blood dripping down his side. it aches. like punishment. cathartic. release.
he groans low, giving the body over to muscle memory, snapping the knife from her grip -- and her fingers slip in, invading, dragging him through the wound like a fishhook. god. the sting. god. SLAMMING her back, he feels the metal cut through flesh. hers now [ soft as it was under his palm ] blood for blood. he trades the blade for the fist, wrenching her wrists in his grasp, pinning her to the wall.
NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?
❝ what do you think i’m going to do, cath? ❞ is it kinder or crueler to whisper? he doesn’t know, but the name still sits tender in his mouth. in two quick motions he turns her arm into a hinge in his grasp. if she moves, he’ll snap her wrist. tension. joints creaking in his ear, fighting the placement. it makes the body still, hyper-aware of the fragility of itself. bones know like that. ❝ you’re going somewhere you’ll never hurt anyone else, ever again. ❞ into a cell. under the needles, the drugs, the padded silence. away, forever, from him. ❝ where people can finally sleep at night knowing you’re behind bars. ❞
people. the speech is easy, nearly rehearsed. it doesn’t cut to the root of him, of his need to make this right. god, the guilt will kill him faster than the knife. ❝ don’t fight it. just come easily. let’s end this. ❞
#cath: fingers his wound hole#matt: moans#we need to be SHOT DEAD for this ... insane#anyways.#tw violence#they need a tag...........#TBT.
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A Thousand Treats (A Thousand Cuts, Part 20)
A palette cleanser. Domestic Nessian with Kitchen Kink. (Puns!) happiness ensures and then cliff hanger - (ominous music)
She won’t talk to anyone else.
She had every right to be livid, Cassian empathized. Nesta sat across from him, legs tucked under her, and a blanket draped around her shoulders. She didn’t like the distance and he didn’t complain when she moved all her books to the main room where Cassian stapled himself to his make-shift command center.
“You look troubled,” Nesta noted from her end.
“Rhys is persistent,” he obliged.
This has gone on long enough. Feyre wants Nesta back. Even if it’s just for a night. I get you have your hands full over there, but Feyre is insistent.
That’s going to take time. Is there a reason why you’re arguing with me and not commanding her to make herself ready? If that was the case, why not winnow Nesta yourself? He called out Rhys’ bluff. He didn't miss how detached his High Lord was – avoiding his mate at all costs. Ever since Beron’s demise, Rhys had second thoughts about tempting fate, and he understood that the past didn’t reflect his behavior towards her all too well. Nesta may be forgiving but the Cauldron was not. The more distance he could wedge between himself and the sister he slighted was likely the best for his health.
“What’s he saying?” she probed, showing some curiosity.
“He wants me to convince you to return to Velaris. Feyre won’t talk to anyone else,” Cassian replied, shifting over maps to make better use of the geographical advantage – or what little he had of it.
Nesta exhaled and her shoulders deflated.
“It’s not happening, Nes, not unless you want it to,” he reassured her, squeezing her knee.
“Why doesn’t he command it like he always does?” she perked a brow, catching on to the same thing Cassian figured out earlier.
“He’s worried you will smite him like you did Beron,” Cassian answered with unhindered pride. “You’re powerful, sweetheart, even more so than he is if the theory is true.”
“Technically, it’s the Cauldron that’s acting through me, but whatever,” she elaborated with a stiff shrug. “So what – does that mean I’m no longer bound by his word to abide his every whim?” she mustered a tiny fraction of a smirk, not quite believing it.
“It means he won’t push you anymore. You have the final say on what you want to do, and I’m not going to push you either,” Cassian confirmed. “He’s resorting to arguing, and after that fails, he’ll try pleading, and guilting me, and if that doesn’t work – which it won’t – don’t be surprised to find goodies at our door trying to get back in your good graces.”
“Shouldn’t it be the opposite order?” she posed, setting down her book flat in her map.
Cassian snorted.
“Would you want him to beg?” Cassian poised, humored by the inquiry. That would be a sight to see, he considered favorably. She deserved a little gratification.
“Not really. It wouldn’t be genuine, and if it’s not sincere, I’m not interested.” She shook her head. What would be the point if Rhys didn’t actually learn his lesson? She’d just hold her breath and wait for history to repeat itself. “I’m saying in a logical order of things, to get in one’s good graces, wouldn’t resorting to a condescending prick be the lastthing someone ought to do?”
“That does make perfect sense, sweetheart,” Cassian seconded. “I also know Rhys. He’s the smartest idiot I know. Emphasis on idiot,” he bitterly chipped, still fuming at the idea a sporadic pact made between lovers would condemn them all to inevitable turmoil should a miracle not save their hides.
That conjured a delightful laugh from his mate. She brought a hot cup of tea to her lips, reminiscing on her own thoughts he could only speculate about.
“So,” Nesta speculated, mildly amused. “Rhys won’t talk to me at all? He’s avoiding me completely?”
“I can pretend you’re insulted and have him resort to groveling for your forgiveness,” Cassian teased, grinning widely. She matched him beautifully.
“Or you can tell him before that ridiculous pact he made makes good on his promise, I will snatch the chance out of its jaws to ensure his end myself, with my own bit of flare,” she waved an enflamed hand.
“He might actually think you’re serious,” Cassian leaned back, astonished. “He already half-believes you plan to.”
She rolled her eyes, annoyed.
“Doing so would condemn Feyre to death regardless, so, I’d rather he, if were to die, and not find some loophole to weasel himself out of consequences again, to have her death be on his conscience than ever bloody my hands with his demise. To spite him would condemn her and that is unacceptable. She’d likely never forgive me in the next world, either. I wouldn’t do such a thing, no matter how justly he deserves to suffer,” she spewed sourly into the rim of her tea.
I will give her however much she needs to sample every damn café and bakery in Velaris. What will it take to get her ass back here? Rhys returned to Cassian’s head with a vengeance.
Cassian stifled a snort, but it was poorly done.
“What is it now?” she asked, already suspicious.
“He’s offering a blank check for you to gorge yourself on every bakery Velaris has,” Cassian returned, shaking his head.
“That’s what he believes will compel me to return to Velaris,” she scoffed.
She’s insulted by your frugality. Cassian stirred the pot, flashing an image of her response for Rhys to get a vivid picture of how unimpressed they both were.
Nesta has been having her fun baking on her off time trying to replicate her favorites. He preferred she continue doing so. It was nice to see her in her element, experimenting with various measurements and ingredients, and making a mess of herself with powders and sticky substances. They may not been identical, but they tasted good enough after a couple tries, and meant she had more reason to stay home and spend quality time with him. C’mon, Rhys. She has no interest in your money or what it has to offer. What do you have to show to acquit yourself?
Cassian wasn’t sure if it took this much effort to get someone to apologize. Nesta may not ask for it, but Cassian felt she was fully entitled to one. Rhys was wrong and he needed to admit it, not make demands to cover his ass because he royally messed up.
This isn’t about me. This is about her sister. Why doesn’t she care? Rhys snapped from his end.
That was the wrong button to poke, and Cassian’s annoyance soured into deep aggravation. Rhys wasn’t there when Nesta cried herself to sleep. Rhys wasn’t there nor would he take the time to wait for Nesta to unpeel her layers and explain why the two had such a contentious relationship. His brother’s constant intervention to shut Nesta out certainly didn’t help at all.
You know nothing. He seethed, cutting Rhys out.
“What are you making?”
He spotted the usual ingredients. Half carton of eggs, a bowl of flour, a pouch of sugar, brown powder he assumed to be coco, salt, butter, oil, a carton of milk, and the unmistakable scent of vanilla that came from a vile.
“Homemade chocolate cake,” Nesta chirped happily. “I never made cake before myself. I’ve seen it been done,” she raised a finger to distinguish, “but I’ve never actually got my hands dirty. Mother forbade it. So, this will be fun, and exciting, and hopefully won’t turn out an absolute disaster!”
He let out a booming laugh and joined her, careful of his wings as to not knock over the gathering of essentials behind them. The stone oven was lit with her usual soundless flame, burning hotter than most, and a large pot of boiling water.
“They say boiling the water opposed to room temperature amplifies the chocolate, so we’re trying that today, and makes it extra fluffy – and that’s just the way I like it! I’m following the recipe to the exact detail,” she described.
She was wedged between one counter and the island, examining a journal with a homemade recipe in plain view. The latest one was worth the excitement as Azriel managed to swindle the recipe of Nesta’s coveted chocolate cake from her favorite bakery near her old apartment. Cassian wasn’t sure what possessed him to seek it out randomly, but he didn’t deny it made her gleeful, and for that, Cassian was grateful.
She was dressed down, even sporting a leather apron already caked with flour. Some of smeared her cheek. It was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, especially with her hair pulled high into a bun and some strands evading.
Had he known sweet treats made her this happy, he’d buy her a bakery, and make sure she had an endless supply of indulgences. He found is even better that she was comfortable in their kitchen, trying something new so enthusiastically.
“Well, if it’s as any good as the cookies you make, I’ll have to go on Emerie’s word they are to die for,” Cassian said. He hadn’t risked snapping the bond by taking a bite of anything she concocted. Sure, he hated the excessive sweetness, but he also wanted to be as much help as he could in her new venture.
She had already began to beat butter into a mush, mixed with something white, and looking over the book to ensure she had the right count as she collected eggs. She furrowed her brows, looking for the wooden spoon when it was not with the rest of her supplies, and Cassian reached over effortlessly to pluck it from the boiling pot.
“Thank you!” Nesta sang delightfully. “Do you think you could mix the coco powder with… those two… and… here,” she angled the book between them after pulling aside what he needed for his end. “I work on this, and you work on that, and then we combine! Let’s not forget vanilla extract and milk!” She hailed happily. “Then we have batter!”
“How long does it need to rise?” Cassian asked, weary of the blue flame. The round pan was filled halfway with the gooey substance, and Nesta helped herself plenty to the raw batter – savoring the taste while Cassian had to distract himself from the sound she made. The moan and the pop of the finger she incessantly licked tortured him.
It’s so good, she muffled, smacking her lips. She’d dip her finger in again, grabbing a dollop, and just hold it in her mouth, swiveling her tongue around the tip until the finger was clean of any trace of it. Literally the best thing ever, Nesta hailed victorious, going for a third fix.
It was driving him mad. His thoughts were anything but pure. He was glad she eventually baked it all into the oven, hoping the torment would be done with. He may have hastened it.
No more, he urged, confiscating her hands. His voice was pained. Her eyes were wide with wonder.
What do you mean? We haven’t even tried it yet! I’ve been dying for this cake for months! Nesta protested.
You can have cake but no more of this, he tapped her damp finger. Keep it out of your mouth. Raw batter is bad for you anyways, he insisted with a strain. It took her a second for realize why and she bit back her lips to smother a laugh, though it sputtered out anyhow.
I’m sorry, she laughed to her heart’s delight. I’m so sorry! Oh – that’s awful for you. I’m so sorry. Here, I’ll kiss you to make you feel better. Okay?
He tried to play it off, feigning a huff. She grabbed his cheek and pulled him down for a chaste kiss. Powder transferred from her cheek to his. When he tried to remedy it with a proper kiss, she was already occupied with the bowl – pouring it slowly into the pan to ensure not a single drop was wasted, thoroughly combing the sides with a spatula for good measure.
She almost brought the chocolate slathered cutlery to her mouth, savoring the last bit of batter left, but his warning glare thwarted the attempt, and she instead offered him the valuable bits. He shook his head and she glared in return.
You really want to take that risk? He teased, wagging his brows. He mockingly tried to intercept the spatula but was purposely slow, just so she had time to process his implications. She gasped and redacted it, looking shocked she almost forgot about the very thing they were so careful to avoid.
You wouldn’t like it anyways! It’s too sweet! And your tastes are rotten and unrefined, she retorted in a huff. I was trying to be nice! Sharing is caring but no – you had to ruin it for yourself!
I’m just playing by your rules, he laughed off, beginning to tackle the mess they made of the counter. She abandoned him to fixate on her beloved creation, cooing in anticipation. He knelt down to her level, smirking. Trust me, he whispered. She tried to shrug it off. I would not have minded the consequences. I’d actually enjoy them, very much so, and I’m certain so would you.
You’re shameless, she chewed on her lip, trying to sound serious but failing miserably. She refused to meet his eyes, but he didn’t miss the sparkle in them.
You’d love it. You’d beg for more, he toyed further, weaseling his hand to her apron to give it a teasing tug.
The only thing I’m begging for is a slice of this cake, she denied smoothly, pupils dilated on the dessert. She’d actually rank a cake above Cassian – and he gawked at her audacity. She stood up to leave him to stew, resuming what he had begun in order of the smallest bowl to the biggest.
“I’m not sure. From the past, the flame is hotter than the normal, so it won’t be as long as… what the recipe calls for,” she noted after a quick glance over her shoulder. “It’s kind of a guessing game at this point. Now and then poke it and see if it’s still wet on the inside. That’s how we’ll know. Once it’s completely dry, it’ll be ready to eat!”
“Not always the case,” Cassian couldn’t resist. She jabbed him on the side with her elbow.
“And that’s what you’re not getting any,” she remarked just as brightly.
“Cake?” he wiggled his brows.
“And other things,” she played along, pushing him away playfully.
“Is this you happy dance?” he spied, gleaming as she jazzed into the room with more pep than usual.
“This is I-get-to-have-my-cake-and-eat-it-too dance,” she delighted, showing off a generous cut of cake she dumped on a plate. A fork plunged into its side, and her mouth had crumbs of proof she couldn’t wait to sit down first. “It’s so good! It’s not as good as the bakery but it’s so fucking good. This might be my new favorite,” she muffled, chewing, and talking in a way to refute all lady-like manners.
She leaned back on the couch beside him, forgoing any matter of space between them. Their shoulders kissed and she curiously looked over his work.
“Holy fucking frosting,” he snickered as he got a better inspection of the dessert.
“Fuck you! Don’t frosting shame me,” she jabbed with her batter caked fork. “You made this! The frosting is good! I’m appreciating your work and yet you shame for me, and yourself, for it! Cassian!”
“You’re supposed to slather the cake, not smother it!” he cackled.
“Don’t judge my choices!” she admonished.
“I will judge freely and rightfully so!”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
They paused and stared at the door, equally stunned.
“I didn’t invite anyone,” Nesta babbled, suddenly weary.
“Neither did I…” Cassian trailed.
“Who’d come here in the middle of a snowstorm?”
“A crazy person?” Cassian supplied. “Az, maybe?”
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
“If we knew them, they’d say something,” Nesta suspiciously noted, setting the plate down and taking up a defensive stance. He already jumped to it, gently nudging her behind him as he approached the door.
“Oh, they’d walk right in,” Cassian confirmed, adopting an edge as he reached for his sword nearby.
“Cass? The light is on. It’s me. Can you let me in? Please? It’s really cold out here,” A light, feminine voice resounded.
“We’re being polite! If you don’t let us in, we’re coming inside anyways,” another followed, more so demanding and with the undeniable air of authority.
“What the fuck?” Nesta scrambled.
Cassian groaned and pried the door open, jaw stiff and eyes dark as he took int the two figures shivering at his door. It wasn’t evening quite yet but black as any midnight hour. He refused to grant them entry, souring at their surprise visit.
“Rhys,” he greeted one coldly and the other in similar fashion. “Mor.”
“What are you doing here?” Nesta asked, peeking out from under his arm. Rhys shivered for another reason altogether, plainly avoiding her.
“What’s on your face?” Mor snapped back, scrutinizing the brown crusts on the corners of her lips.
“Chocolate,” Nesta replied matter of fact, bringing a thumb to her face to wipe away the mess. “I made cake.”
“You bake?” Mor questioned skeptically. The attitude couldn’t be missed – and wouldn’t be excused.
“Yes, and I helped,” Cassian crudely interjected before Nesta needed to defend herself.
“Can we come in, please?” Rhys asked with clattering teeth. He wasn’t dressed for the bad turn of weather, and neither was the blonde. “It’s fucking freezing!”
Nesta sighed and retreated. Cassian begrudgingly stepped aside to allow them passage. Mor sighed harmoniously as she was met with a burst of hot air to combat the chill. Rhys relaxed slightly, taking in the new surroundings that undoubtedly changed with Nesta’s presence influencing some of the interior.
“I see you two made yourselves at home,” Rhys commented. “Nesta, you should stay,” he addressed as she gathered her books and cake. Cassian knew she’d rather hide in the bedroom until he could dismiss the unwanted visitors. “We should talk.”
Nesta shot a flat expression to Cassian that implied she wanted to do anything but.
Mor had disappeared and reappeared with a slice of cake, examining it with scrutiny, and then taking a bold bite. Nesta’s mouth fell ajar, likely cursing her out in her head, and Cassian shook his own at the audacity.
“Not bad,” Mor muttered, poking at the small slice.
“Sit, we have a lot to talk about,” Rhys gestured to the couch. The nerve to command him in his own home had stirred something in Cassian – and not in a good way. It was one thing to drop in on him unannounced, especially after a dispute, but another to assume he had to comply to orders under his own fucking roof.
“She insults me about my baking skills, and then she eats my cake. Who does that?” Nesta cried out in a whisper, turning to Cassian in alarm. “I’m supposed to split that with Emerie and Gwyn!”
“I said it wasn’t bad,” Mor shrugged, taking another helping.
“I hope you choke on it,” Nesta glared down at her. Mor halted in her movement, not quite finished with her bite. The blonde hesitated, unsure if Nesta meant it as an insult or a curse.
“Let’s not say things we don’t mean,” Rhys intervened coolly.
“Well, Em did say Nesta’s baking was to die for,” Cassian tried to ease the mood, easing Nesta down with him on the couch. Nesta did not waver in her animosity, staring down the two, but especially Mor who reluctantly swallowed her second bite and abandoned her own slice.
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👀 & talk to me about your feelings for Alice. genuinely. no masks, no roundabouts ; no disguises, no omissions, no word games or twisting confessions into questions. — @necrcmance, Malcolm Fade
Present Malcolm a free pass to dig for truths and he’ll jump at it like a scavenger smelling carrion. Michael’s attempt at restraining an eyeroll results in failure, especially since the list of ‘Don’ts’ gets longer and longer. Canting his head to one side, he eyes the warlock with one upturned brow. Gee! ❛ Are you done? ❜ Rhetorical, seeing that Malcolm finally finished his loaded request. Isn’t it kind of endearing, how someone claiming not to think about him drops so much curiosity regarding his innermost to his feet?
All of this, however, barely drowns out the rapid beat of his own heart. Which he can almost hear. ❛ I don’t know what I feel ❜, follows a prolonged moment of silence, a touch of confusion washing over his mien. ❛ I just know that she’s become more important to me than I initially planned. Obviously enough to smite you, or anyone else, for hurting her. ❜
Michael refuses to say that one word he isn’t even sure fits. Nonetheless, a small and equally as fond smile curves his lips. ❛ She’s the only one who accepts me as I am. The person I am. I suppose what I feel is closest to gratitude. ❜ He almost has to laugh at the absurdity of this present situation in itself — of all possibilities, it’s Malcolm he tells these things. But Michael isn’t in the mood to laugh. After all, he shares all this begrudgingly and not because he’s bursting with a dire need to ramble.
❛ Do I want her to be happy? Yes. Would I descend to the netherworld and bring her back if she died? Without hesitation. ❜ A pause, where he just spills the thoughts as they come, gaze darting ahead into a void. Until he finally sways his attention back to Malcolm. ❛ But would I give my life for hers when push comes to shove? No. ❜
#⛧ 𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝘼𝙂𝙀 // answers.#ARC 2.#whew. ok he had to leave out some things because#otherwise he'd be talking for 1 week straight#necrcmance
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