#but i also do love poking at verses which have No Angels to speak of. having to come up with Alternate Explanations.

[handgiven]

currently rattling my brain with possible verses for emmanuel. like, say, the boys. consider: a little supe girl whose imagination is powerful enough to come up with him. he doesn't even realise he's made up. until something happens to the little girl and he begins to fade. etc etc etc

[tinydestinybear]

could you write a blurb where military!harry writes y/n letters and she keeps them in a box to remind her that harry loves her so much. maybe she gets a letter on her birthday and harry surprises her too? i’m sure whatever you make of this will be perfect :)

I was hoping this trope gets more love so thank you for requesting this! i’m glad to see that you trust me with this concept and i hope you enjoy reading 🤍 also the letters are numbered 1-3 but they did send letters in between these!

—

Harry’s letters begin to make an appearance ever since the very first week of his departure.

#1

My love,

It is my fourth day here and it already feels like an age since I have come here - we hang in the vastness of the land and nothing seems to stop. Everything scares me and I am alone, I feel like I’m being strangled. 

I never knew how cold it would be here. It is so unlike our home and I just want to be back home with you. I suppose as the days pass, I will feel better. But enough about my anxieties, I hope this letters find you well.

The area is so small, one can cross travel in less than a day yet it is such a prime space for our country. I hope you were here, I hope you would be proud of me. I wish to show you a place I found nearby - there are cherries which I know you love. I can picture us enjoying the serene sight and I would love sharing that quiet kind of love with you.

All the love,

Harry

#2

My love,

I’m writing to you now thinking back to the days we spent together, when we stayed in our bed all day with our arms wrapped tightly around each other.

You were all around me, and with every breath, I inhaled you. 

Sometimes when I’m all alone, I recall those moments, remembering your face and how your eyelashes would quiver with every little breath you took. I recall reaching out and poking your cheek, I recall stifling a giggle when you twitched a little at my touch.

Yet everyday when there are new tasks and methods to practice, how is it that in between all those activities I can still smell you sometimes and it makes absolutely no sense for me to suddenly be able to faintly smell you but I do and a cosy, warm feeling fills my heart.

Y/N, you have always been the poet after all and all I’ve ever known how to do is speak simply, which I will now do. I miss you. I miss holding you, I miss looking at you, perhaps most of all I miss the sound of your voice calling my name.

All the love,

Harry

Y/N still has his letters. They’d bring her an unsigned comfort and she’d reread them when she missed him. She’d also snuggle in his jackets during the night, enjoying the warmth and left over cologne that was in the fabric. For all that Harry claims not to be a poet, his words managed to stir Y/N’s heart like no florid verse ever has. Regardless, their bond still remained intact which spurred their brushes across the paper every single time to write to each other. 

#3

My love, 

Your birthday is right around the corner and I keep remembering our trip together for your 27th birthday. That week holds one of the best memories for you and I. We had no idea what we were gonna do and we also didn’t have a lot of money. But those days? They were so much fun because we were so determined to just enjoy ourselves.

Do you remember when we ran miles on the beach at night laughing? We were such a mess and when we finally laid down, you said, “H I’m gonna miss you.” It was like… I can’t even fully describe how it felt, how I felt that moment. All I could was promise to you that I am gonna return to you, the love of my life. 

You know how I always asked you what you wanted for your birthday and you said I should just gift you with anything but from a loving heart? My angel, I hope you like your gift this year. 

Harry

Walking out from the bookstore after a long day at work, Y/N wanted nothing more than to go home and rest after having been out of it the whole day despite it being her birthday. Letting the sun shine hit down on her face, she let out a yawn and started heading back home. 

As she reached home, the sound of someone’s cough made her turn back. Holding a bouquet of a range of white flowers in his one hand and a cake in the other, the person wears a big smile. A smile that took her breath away. No way. 

For the first time Harry felt like crying, still dressed in his uniform. For many nights, since the day he left, both of them had dreamed of this day. No words were said, they didn’t need them. 

Seeing Harry there, in front of her after such a long time, all Y/N wanted to do was hug him and never let go of him, all she cared about was to feel his skin against hers which is what she did as she felt the flowers and cake touch her back.

“My love, I’ve missed you so much. Gonna stay here with you for long,” he said, leaving a few sloppy kisses on her forehead - trying to manage with his hands full. 

Sobbing into his chest, Y/N didn’t wish to separate as she gripped his uniform tight, not wanting him to escape any second.

“Lovie, I’m here and not leaving you, hold this for me,” Harry said as he tried soothing her and handed her the cake and flowers.

Once they’re in her arms, Harry wastes no time - lifting his hand and wiping the tears off her face as he leaves a peck on her nose. Truth be told, he was dying to see her, her face, her smile so to see her red nose made him chuckle a little.

Oh, how he died to see her ever since. 

The night ends up in them relaxing in each other’s embrace at their home. And when Harry wakes up next morning, there’s a small letter by his nightstand.

H,

I loved you yesterday, I love you today, I’ll keep on loving you tomorrow

Yours Y/N

please let me know if you guys liked this! reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

The 14th Department (AFTERL!FE) Meets the Demon Brothers and Undateables (Obey Me!)

Lucifer

Noah heard he has a dog.  He is staying far away from the pretentious eldest. 

Oldest big brother?  You better believe Youssef finds a kindred spirit, even if they differ wildly in personalities.  

Louis lives for the almost regal aesthetic Lucifer has got going on.  Lucifer, in turn, lives for the day Louis will stop talking.

Quincy finds this whole trip preposterous (“What the heck is the Devildom?  What happened to the Underworld?”) and does not like Lucifer’s condescending attitude (it conflicts with his own!).  

Ethan doesn’t like Lucifer—proud and arrogant people with no reason to be so are not to be respected.  Lucifer despises Ethan for the same reason.

Day!  Will!  Not!  Go!  Near!  Lucifer!  He’s so scary!  But Cerberus is his best friend now (Nine-Nine who?).

Nine and Theo together find out that the eldest demon is into classical music and spend hours discussing early compositions with him.

Ell cannot be around this demon!  He is a fallen angel!  He tries to be nice (and because Ell is kind, so is Lucifer, even if the sickly sweetness of the angel drives him up the wall), but every good wish is punctuated with a sneeze.

Lucifer is so overworked, so by way of his calm disposition and love for meditation, Jamie helps him find ways to relax.

The eldest demon’s general demeanor astonishes June.  How manly he is!

Likewise, Sian can’t go near Lucifer without feeling nervous.  The man drips dominating energy!

Verine can’t understand the eldest’s love for classical music.  Rock is infinitely better.

Mammon

Um, Mori and him are best friends.  They together cause trouble in the House of Lamentation and in the 14th Department with their many get-rich-quick schemes.

Gaudy and expensive taste?  Sign Louis up.

Ethan says ‘no’ to the demon’s general pomposity (it reeks of low self-esteem) and by God, doesn’t he own anything that depicts an iota of class?

Mammon is one speedy demon—how can Kirr not appreciate his fleetfootedness when it would bring him so much use whilst hunting?  Apart from that, Kirr has no respect for that reprehensible thief, for the very idea of stealing brings back terrible memories.

Always belittled by their peers, Day and Mammon find a kindred spirit in each other, and Day is always reminded of his past life when he sees all the gold that Mammon professes to possess possesses. 

Kati bit him twelve times because no dumb tsundere was going to steal his (cough Aitachi’s) spot as cutest in the Department!

Licht is eclipsed by Mammon’s demon form because how is he able to pull off wearing so little clothing so well?  He must take notes.  When he learns that Mammon is a model, too, he goes berserk with delight.

Cyrille finds the secondborn exceedingly stupid, although he begrudgingly gives him credit for being pretty decent at math.

Sian spots a fellow tsundere and runs away, because oh my God, it’s so obvious that Mammon likes this MC person!

Leviathan

Games?  Social awkwardness?  Extreme interest in things that no one else seems to care for?  Cyrille has found his soulmate!

Aitachi and Kirr cringe at how Leviathan spends his leisure time, but are intrigued because they have never seen such methods of gaming and media consumption before.

Leviathan is forever at Quincy’s mercy, for the fellow demon has no qualms of absolutely crushing Levi’s already non-existent self-esteem. 

Even though he loathes to admit it, Sian really likes the rhythm games Leviathan plays, and the thousands of idol posters in his room make him strangely nostalgic of his past life.

June wonders how Levi can go so long without feeling the overwhelming need to burst into a sprint now and again.

Theo almost kills the thirdborn because how is his room filled with so many Demonrito and Hell Mountain Dew containers?  What filth!

Speaking of filth, Licht finds some of Levi’s dating sims and oh my darling, some of them are quite … lewd.

Ghilley and Leviathan together construct an elaborate Lego model of a castle from the anime My Sister Is A Fairy Princess, And Her Suitor Is Secretly An Ogre From a Land Far Away And Wants to Eat Us All, And It’s Up to Me to Save My Sister’s Kingdom.

Ethan can’t even walk past Leviathan’s room without a disapproving “tut.”  Has the demon no discipline, despite being rumored to be the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?

Kati spends all day poking at the cute monster and waifu figurines situated in Levi’s bedroom.  He thinks Azuki-tan is cute, but not as cute as him, and anyone who says otherwise will get bitten!

Aitachi likes to rifle through Leviathan’s anime sword replica collection and giggle because in combat, they would be of no more use than a toothpick.

Satan 

Finally!  Someone with sense! thinks Ethan.  Boy, do these two get along, right down to their educated and proper mannerisms to their mutual hatred of Lucifer.

Verine can’t go near Satan without coughing violently because the forthborn always has some manner of cat hair on him, no matter how diligently he preens.

Cats are infinitely better than dogs, so Noah sticks close to Satan.

Cyrille thought he had found a friend in Satan, who always has his nose in a book, but it turns out, Satan is more philosophically-and-intellectually-versed, while Cyrille is more scientific.

Nine likes Satan, for he is as calm as himself.  Strangely enough, they both seem to have hidden wrathful feelings and bond over this.

Kitties! :D is all Day can think when he sees the fourthborn.

Youssef enjoys Satan’s company, too, for they both are anthropological in nature—always watching, but never interfering until there is a need.

Blond and princelike are the two of them, but Louis is sorely disappointed when Satan’s royal appearance is merely a façade of darker emotions to come, where Louis enjoys life in its every aspect.  “How disappointing art thou, Satan!”  Louis throws rose petals in distress.

Kirr and Aitachi try to hunt one of Satan’s cats, thinking it was some kind of Devildom’s finest prey.  Satan does not forgive them for the attempt.

Theo sneezes the moment he enters Satan’s room.  Although everything is in its place and not truly messy by any means, he refuses to let the stacks and stacks of books sit idly by when they are begging to be put in shelves!

Quincy and Satan each add to their respective repertoire of curses in their time together.  It does not bode well for anyone in the House of Lamentation or 14th Department.

Asmodeus

They are … essentially the same person, so you can bet your ass that Licht and Asmo absolutely live for each other’s company.  They literally spend hours modeling clothes together, discussing fashion, gossiping about their romantic exploits, and praising their overall appearance.  

Louis joins in too, although he mostly stays for the latter, and the three vanquish away many nights complimenting their own and the others’ looks.

Sometimes Asmo likes to sew patches and sequins onto his clothes and mend them to his own design, and Aitachi, who likes to sew, learns many different ways of stitching from the fifthborn, although he hates the fact that Asmo, like Licht, never shuts up about what an “adorable and cute warrior” he is!

Asmo has to know Kirr’s hair care routine, which Kirr gives in one, succinct sentence: “I wash it.  Sometimes.”

Nine has to constantly flee Asmodeus’ presence because it is in his nature to compliment the Soul Reaper on how absolutely beautiful he looks.

Kati expects makeovers, all of which should emphasize his cuteness, every other day.

Don’t ask how long Mori spent calculating how much money Asmo spends on beauty products, because he wept at the end of it.

Verine refuses to step a foot into Asmodeus’ room because do you know how much his sinuses are going to bother him when he spends even a second into a room so deeply entrenched in the fragrance of flowers and perfume?

Ghilley is used to a personality so akin to his roommate, Licht, so he has no qualms in dealing with Asmo and quite likes the gossip he is quietly able to distill from the fifthborn.

Beelzebub

Brothers in their flaming orange hair, June gloms onto Beel with astounding loyalty (Theo refuses to admit jealousy, but ...), especially when he hears of his dedication to his twin.

Cyrille has to interrogate Beel on the structural integrity of his wings in his demon form because there is no way that such a flimsy apparatus could lift a demon of Beel’s stature even an inch into the air!  Also, how much does Beel exercise if he expects to gain muscle and burn off the infinite calories that he consumes?  It is a scientific mystery.

Day likes snacks, Beel likes snacks!  Everything is right in the world (even if the demon accidentally mistook Day’s hair for a mint ice cream cone).

Jamie is constantly offering fresh fruits and vegetables to the sixthborn, but even though he eats them willingly, Beel much prefers foods that will actually fill him up for a short amount of time.

Again, Ethan is appalled by the lack of discipline Beelzebub shows.  The demon is simply a slave to his appetite and deserves nothing less than scorn.

Theo cannot decide if he likes or hates the fact that Beel leaves a trail of crumbs wherever he goes.  On one hand, he gets to clean, but on the other hand, it’s so messy ... 

Even though he has many misgivings of fallen angels, even Ell cannot help but like Beel!  As long as he is fed, the demon is very sweet and kind.  

Noah likes Beel, too.  Something about his easygoing and generally cheerful personality pleases him to no end. 

Beel tried to eat Kati’s hair, thinking it was a yummy bun.  Sadly, he got bit more times than Mammon.

Youssef is a good cook and is thereby followed by Beel wherever he goes.  The kind Soul Reaper doesn’t mind, though.

Belphegor

Noah likes how Belphie takes things easily and calmly, although it probably wouldn’t hurt for him to get more exercise.

Belphegor is even more of a conundrum to June than Leviathan was.  He decides that next time he goes to the Devildom, he’s going to bring an extra pair of running shoes because the demon most certainly was wanting of physical exertion! 

Kirr is absolutely astonished at the unguarded and completely lax way Belphie sprawls out in the House of Lamentation, sleeping.  If he was an enemy tribesman, he would have no trouble in taking the demon down as he slept.

“This kind of laziness is not fit for a warrior at all!” cries Aitachi any time he seems Belphie dozing off.

Jamie likes Belphegor’s way of thinking.  Sometimes, sitting under an apple tree in the sweltering summer heat after a hard day of work just causes one to be overcome with the desire to take a nap. 

Youssef tries to brew Belphie a cup of espresso, but the caffeine just doesn’t seem to have an effect on the Avatar of Sloth. 

Although he is slightly disheartened by the fact that his quiet footsteps seem to have no effect on the seventhborn, as he is always asleep, Ghilley revels in the prospect of drawing unsavory graffiti on the demon’s face when he slumbers.

Day sometimes tries to rouse Belphie, and Belphie, in turn, tries to kill Day.

Like his observations on his twin, Cyrille cannot fathom how the demon could sleep so much.  How could one body need so much rest?

Simeon

Ell loves him.  How can he not?  He is the perfect angel!  He is also very curious as to how the Celestial Realm of Obey Me!’s world works compared to the one in AFTERL!FE.

His whole aesthetic mesmerizes Louis.  There’s something so tranquil but regal about it.  

Licht wants to know where he can get an exact copy of Simeon’s outfit because darling, it's gorgeous.

Youssef probably spends more time around Simeon than he should, but his calm demeanor is so refreshing compared to the chaos in the 14th Department and the House of Lamentation. 

Kirr and Aitachi together lament with Simeon on the struggles of working with technology.  Why is it so difficult?

Something about the angel’s holy air makes Mori very much not inclined to ask him how much the gold clasp on his cape is worth.

Quincy hates the “pretentious” and “stuck up” angel and bickers with him almost as much as he bickers with Ell.  Simeon never responds to his goading, although ... he does get a bit prickly when Quincy criticizes Luke or the Celestial Realm too harshly.

Encouraged by the prospect that he can actually breathe in the (fresh-smelling) presence of Simeon, Verine enjoys his company, but is perpetually annoyed by the fact that the angel seems to pity him for his condition.

Ethan can’t hate Simeon, either.  He is the sole honorable character he can find in the entire Devildom, even though he has to admit that it seems that the angel is hiding something.

Day really likes Simeon!  He’s so nice and is always ready to play with him.

As a man of science, Cyrille scoffs at Simeon (and Luke’s) unfaltering belief in religion. 

Luke

Kati bites him on sight.  Luke just seems irritating and how dare he think himself cuter than him!

Aitachi sympathizes with Luke, for they both lament on not being taken seriously because of their age.  

Luke reminds him a bit too much of a chihuahua for Noah to be too fond of him, but the little angel means well, so Noah suffers his incessant barking out of (Kind)ness.

Day is a human puppy ... and Luke is an angel chihuahua.  They get along great, although Luke makes it his most important goal to Christianize Day, who seems to believe in other things!

Quincy wonders when Luke will stop talking and is constantly entertaining thoughts of hastening the day when he will.  Likewise, Luke wishes the “horrible demon” would go away forever.

As a fellow angel, Ell finds Luke to be great fun.  It’s strange though, Luke seems to always be expressing the opposite of what he’s feeling in typical tsundere fashion, but he never sneezes.

Sian finds Luke to be of the utmost annoyance.  He’s so short (heh) and yappy and annoying!  

Kirr wonders if the little angel will make a good hunting dog, but after he realizes that Luke has a lot of trouble keeping his mouth closed, he thinks  better of it.

His dealings with Day cause Nine to be an excellent caretaker of Luke when Simeon is away.  You just have to deal with exuberant personalities like his carefully, is all.

Ghilley and Licht give Luke “five stars” in terms of cuteness.  The young angel does not approve!

Theo stays far away from Luke.  Children are walking crumb-and-stain-factories and he is not going to get dirty.

Solomon

Quincy and Solomon exchange many spell incantations and curses and keep the rest of the Soul Reapers, angels, and demons in an uproar with their constant shenanigans. 

When he notices that Solomon has many fortune-telling artifacts in his room, Kati rifles through them all (without permission), much to the sorcerer’s amusement, especially when Kati discovers many supposedly unpleasant things about his future.

Although Quincy and Solomon are the true troublemaking duo in terms of pranks (Satan helps, sometimes), Day and Solomon are almost equal in measure, although much of Day’s rogurey is an accident, and he never means to cause any harm!

Licht is instantly enamored by Solomon’s cape—what style!  You can see the entire Milky Way embroidered on it (Cyrille instantly assures him that that is not actually the case)!

Ghilley can’t help but wonder why anyone thinks Solomon is shady.  He seems to be a pretty upstanding, if chaotic, guy?

Youssef admires the humanity of Solomon.  In a land of angels and demons and even Soul Reapers, it’s good to have someone so normal.

Unlike Ghilley, Ethan definitely notices that something shady is afoot when Solomon is around.  Because of this, he tails the sorcerer wherever he goes, for he’d rather not a ruckus be caused.

Sian has many questions for Solomon on the status of idols in the Human World since he left it.  What are the newest trends?  The most popular groups?  The most admired dance moves?  He wants to know it all.

Barbatos

Cyrille finds the whole time-travel aspect of Barbatos’ powers intriguing and derails the butler from his duties for hours in attempts to understand the nuances of this overpowering concept.

Ethan privately thinks that he looked much better in a butler suit than the demon.  What is even going on with the front of his outfit?  A diligent and uncomplaining demon is Barbatos, and Ethan has to respect him for that, even if he is a position so beneath his own.

He’s so scary! D: thinks Day, even though Barbatos is nothing but kind to him.

Kirr likes the fine fare that Barbatos cooks, although he laments not being able to win “the mind game” against the butler, who he spends many hours staring coolly at.

Theo and Barbatos spend many an evening chatting about the best way to maintain the most perfect state of cleanliness.

The strong smell of detergent follows Barbatos sometimes, and Verine can never bring himself too close to the demon.  However, he has to begrudgingly admit that if it weren’t for the overwhelming stench of chemicals, he would be breathing in a suffocating cloud of dust particles, so he has to thank the butler for that.

Jamie gives Barbatos many good recipes for fruit pies and Youssef can’t wait to try all the (possibly) delicious recipes that Barbatos recites to him.  

Ghilley, unfortunately, finds it very difficult to sneak up on the butler, for Barbatos has seen all Ghilley’s attempts to scare him in all the timelines he has observed. 

Diavolo

This bumbling idiot is the ruler of the Devildom? thinks Ethan with great distaste.  However dignified Diavolo might be, Ethan cannot see past the blindingly cheerful mask he puts on and finds it most undignified.

A fellow royal!  How is Louis supposed to resist striking a long-winded conversation?  Diavolo entertains Louis’ pompous and overbearing self and they find each other most delightful.

Licht positively drools over Diavolo’s demon form outfit.  Just how he is pulling off that much style?

Quincy finds much enjoyment in disrespecting the Prince of the Devildom to no end and is always disappointed when Diavolo responds to his insults with a tolerating smile.

The Prince of Demons and the son of the Demon Lord are titles that are essentially the bane of Ell’s existence, but he manages to be most respectful toward him, even though he is shaking in his shoes and wondering when all their interactions will come to and end.

Day lived like a king in his past life and is not even remotely fazed by the enormous amount of finery found in the Demon Lord’s Castle.  He is, however, enamored with the Little D’s, who, when not insulting him, are great fun!

Diavolo’s lifestyle of luxury is basically Mori’s dream, so he takes every opportunity to make notes of the expensive furniture and ancient pieces.

Noah and Youssef like how down-to-Earth Diavolo is, despite his high position.  They feel as if he has something to hide, but for the most part, he is a jolly fellow and they enjoy his company.

[pbandcas]

Where the Love Light Gleams

So I took a small break from my Endverse Advent Calendar series to write some Christmas fluff! this is for @diminuel (for inspiring me on Twitter and also for being an absolute omega!Cas supporting treasure)

tags: omega verse, omega!Castiel, Alpha!Dean, mpreg, Jack and Claire are Dean and Castiel's kids, family fluff, proposals, and inappropriate humor, pregnant Castiel, Pregnant Eileen

pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Eileen

characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Wincheste, Eileen Leahy, Jack Kline, Claire Novak

Read on AO3

Where the Love Light Gleams

Christmas, Dean decided, wasn’t actually so bad anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that they weren’t constantly moving around and could settle in one place for the holiday. Or if it was because they weren’t constantly fighting for their lives anymore or trying to stop another apocalypse. Or if it was because the bright smell of cloves and honey and sunlight after a storm permeated the air around him. The smell of content, happy omega, the smell of his content, happy omega. Cas was once again rearranging the small pile of gifts under their tree. The rainbow lights reflected soft smears of color in his dark hair. The blues and yellows bringing out his eyes, the reds and greens stained his cheeks and nose. Dean couldn’t help the happy rumble in his chest at the sight. They had only been officially mated for a few months. Cas had just started his pre-heat mood swings and finally demanded Dean either bite him and claim his ass or he’ll go find an alpha who would. Who was Dean to turn down such a romantic request. Now they proudly wore each other's bite and Dean— well Dean had plans.

See being mated, they didn’t have to technically get married. They were already together, till death do them part and all the jazz because as Cas had mentioned many times before, Angels mated for life. Even little Graceless, earthbound Omegas, but Dean wasn’t an Angel. Though he did believe in mating for life, he just— had other customs he wanted as well. Which was why, hidden away in the branches of their Christmas tree was a little black box with a little silver ring inside. “I think if you move them around anymore, the paper will rip and you’ll ruin Christmas.” He said with a slowly widening smile. Cas blinked over his shoulder at him owlishly before he frowned down at the gift in his hands. With a tilt of his head Cas set the thin box down on the very top and sat back on his heels. “I am… nervous.” Cas admitted softly, sadness and anxiety saturated his scent causing Dean to frown. Before he could say anything else though Cas shook his head and pushed himself to stand. With one hand on his hip and the other on his chin, he murmured softly, “I want everything to be perfect.” Rolling his eyes Dean walked up behind him and circled his arms around his mates waist. Propping his chin on Castiel’s shoulder he pressed a soft kiss to his mating bite before peppering more kisses up the side of his neck and up to his temple. “Everything will be, Angel. You worry too much.” Content Omega was back and the Alpha in Dean preened at being the cause of it. “Now come on. Help me finish up cooking before Sam and Eileen get here.” “You are under the assumption they will arrive before Jack and Claire.” Cas shot back with raised brows, an amused smile playing across his lips. “At least your brother and his wife will help cook… your children will not.” True, Jack was always more than happy to help, however, they’d all agreed long ago that he was never allowed in the kitchen. And Claire, well, Claire just didn’t like to help. Dean barked out a laugh at that and he nudged Cas’s cheek with his nose affectionately. “They’re your kids too, honeycake.” He paused for a minute before his grin widened. “She’s not even related to me, but Claire is pretty much a spitting image of me at her age. I love it.” Cas rolled his eyes and wiggled out of Dean’s grasp. “Of course you would. Alphas. I swear.” ————— They managed to get the last pies in the oven as they heard the bunker door open. Instantly loud arguing was heard and Dean shot Cas an amused smirk. “There is no way anyone could go to every house in a single night to deliver presents. Magic reindeer or not.” Claire growled with an eye roll as she sauntered into the kitchen. Jack followed hot on her heels and a wide smile on his face. “But it’s magic, C. Anything can be done with magic.” He turned his happy grin to Dean and Cas where they’d moved from the ovens to come give them hugs. “Isn’t that right, father?” He let Cas wrap him in a tight hug as he waited for Dean to speak. The hunter snorted, gave his o wn hug, then stepped back to ruffle Claire’s hair. The younger alpha groaned and shooed his hand away.

“Well duh.” Dean said in exaggeration, rolling his eyes for extra effect. “How else would there be presents here for you otherwise?” Jack’s face lit up at that and he all but scrambled from the room leaving behind a trail of cinnamon and rain.

“Oh! Are there?” He called excitedly as the door swung shut.

Claire snorted but sent a grin Dean’s way before turning to Castiel. Her face visibly softened as she smiled. “How’ve you been, dad?” Cas let the pleased expression take over as he opened his arms in invitation. To no one's surprise, she took it instantly and wrapped her arms around the omega. Whether she’d admit it or not, both Dean and Cas knew she adored Castiel.

“Busy.” Cas laughed as he pressed a small kiss to her temple before letting her go. “It has been like wrestling a hurricane to keep this one from actively hunting.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Dean. At Claire’s snort Dean rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t know what a vacation was if it bit him on the ass.” They both laughed as Dean sputtered in indignation.

“It was a mating leave, Cas. Not a vacation, and after the holidays we’ll be right back at it.” He pointed a warning finger at them both, Cas raised an eyebrow and Claire snickered behind on hand. “Now. I’m going to go make sure the other one hasn’t opened anything yet.” With that he swept from the room, grumbling about ‘cheeky omegas’ and ‘nosy brat alphas.’

The second the door shut Claire whirled on him. “Did you tell him yet?” She demanded practically vibrating in excitement. Cas shushed her with one hand as he peered at the door, making sure her voice hadn’t carried.

“Not yet.”

“Ugh, Daaad.” She whined and crossed her arms over her chest, “What are you waiting on? For him to smell it first?”

Truth be told that had been Castiel’s biggest fear thus far. That Dean would smell it before he had a chance to tell him. He’d managed smothering the change so far but he knew it was just a matter of time. “I’ll be telling him tonight.” He said with a soft smile and happiness rolled off him in waves. “When we do presents.”

“Cas! Claire! Sammy and Eileen are here!”

They shared one last look before Claire clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so happy for you, dad.”

——————

The second the two stepped into the main room Cas was swept up into a hug, his feet barely brushing the floor. Sam’s bright apple smell enveloped him in a content bubble and he couldn’t help the smile from blooming on his face. “Hello, Sam. I trust all has been well?” The tall alpha rumbled out his agreement as he spun them in a half circle. Cas could pick up the second Sam’s nose twitched and his scent grew curious as he scented the air around Cas. “Don’t say anything.” He whispered quickly, eyes glancing up at Dean who’d just released Eileen with a wide grin.

“Come on now man, that one’s mine.” Dean teased as he came over and pulled Sam into a bear hug. Sam rolled his eyes but pat him on the back anyway after letting Cas slip away to greet Eileen.

“So, how’s mated life treating you?” Sam’s shit eating grin grew when Dean’s ears flushed bright red and he mumbled ‘shut up’ under his breath. He was smiling fondly after his omega though. It was all so disgustingly domestic and Sam almost didn’t believe it was actually Dean. “That good then?”

The smell of satisfied alpha washed over them both as Dean turned his gaze back on his brother. “It’s been amazing, Sammy. Like. Seriously,” His eyes jumped to where Cas and Eileen were now excitedly talking to Jack. The young beta was showing them something on his phone and they couldn’t hear what exactly they were talking about but it was clearly entertaining. From the other side of the room Claire was poking around with a CD player, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. “I’m happy, man.”

There was a triumphant sound as Claire managed to get the music to turn on and instantly ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ started filtering through the room. Beside him Sam smiled, “That’s good, Dean. That’s really good.” He patted him on the back once and then, “You deserve this. You deserve each other.”

“Enough about me.” Dean said in embarrassment, “How are you and Eileen doing? It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together.” He looked over the dark haired woman where she now sat beside Castiel in front of the tree, her hands resting lightly over her protruding stomach. “She’s looking quite… large.”

Sam scoffed with a smile. “She’s pregnant, Dean, you know that, of course she’s large.” The expression turned fond and the apple scent around them sweetened. “Things are going really well. Just hit six months and the little bugger is super active.” The almost longing look on Dean’s face made Sam’s heartache. His brother had always been the more pup oriented of the two. Always talking about wanting to settle down and raise a family. “Have you and Cas talked about… you know… having pups?”

Dean didn’t say anything for a long moment and then, “Sometimes.” His voice was distant as he watched the two omegas laugh quietly as Claire plopped down beside Cas, her feet instantly coming up to rest on his lap. “Though it’s usually when he’s in heat and begging me to--”

“Oh ew, Dean! No, don’t even. I don’t need to know that.” Dean gave him a wolfish grin and waggled his eyebrows but the effect was lost when his scent dampened. “Mating habits aside,” He groaned, face twisting in disgust, “Have you talked about it while both of you are lucid?” Dean only shrugged and Sam pursed his lips, one eyebrow raised, “Why not, Dean?”

“Because I don’t know if he’d actually want a pup with me.” He shot back, the air burning around him, causing Sam’s nose to wrinkle. The next second the strong soothing smell of honey overtook them. Both blinked dazedly as Castiel popped up to wrap himself around Dean, his face pinched in a frown as he scented at his mate.

Looking up Dean, Cas pressed a hand against his mating bite. “You are distressed. Why are you distressed?” Turning to the younger Winchester he frowned, “What did you do?” Sam put his hands up and shook his head with a laugh.

“Nothing, Cas. We were just having a conversation.”

“Well, time for conversation is done. It’s time for food.” With that he turned on his heel and stalked away toward the table currently being set with food by Jack and Claire. Dean shot his brother a long suffering look that was only mildly put off by soft pine. They’d talk about it again later. He knew that, but for now he followed his omega toward the rest of their family.

——————

“Oh my God.” Claire burst out with a laugh as she pulled out a pair of soft looking pajama pants from the box Jack had handed her. They were bright yellow and covered in little cheeseburgers and she grinned at Jack, “These a fuckin beautiful.”

From the couch Cas ‘tutted’, “Language.” Claire rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Cas before turning back to Jack and giving him a hug. The cheeseburger pants grasped tightly in her hands as she rubbed the back of his head affectionately.

“Thanks, J.”

Jack seemed to preen under the praise as he said brightly, “They match Dean’s hotdog pants!”

Dean nodded approvingly as he eyeballed the bright pants, “That they do.” He turned slightly toward Cas and nudged his side, “You and Jack need a pair now. I’m thinking fries for the kid,” Jack’s face lit up as Dean tossed him a box he had at his side. Not breaking eye contact with his mate he smiled, “Great minds think alike, ya?” Dropping his voice lower he muttered, “Soda’s for you, my little juice box.” Cheeks instantly burning Cas looked away from him, wide eyed and mouth gone dry.

As Jack pulled out the red pants covered in fries, Claire handed Castiel an almost identical box. Cas frowned, his face still burning at Dean’s comment, at the box in his hands then glanced between the two, “You planned this.” Dean shrugged, smirk firmly in place as Cas opened the box and pulled out dark blue pants covered in soda cups, the straws each a rainbow of colors. “Did you pick them out?” He asked Claire tentatively, alarm raising as the two alphas looked at each other with matching smirks.

The look was all he needed to know before he was wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Sam and Eileen cackled on the love seat and Castiel shot them a glare. “You are all terrible people.” Sam shrugged one shoulder as he wheezed through his laughter, Eileen patting his back while stifling her own giggles.

Beside him Dean let out a soothing rumble and nuzzled against his cheek. “Oh come on, honeycake, it’s all in good fun.” Cas huffed, but let himself be soothed at the same time. The rest of the presents were handed out. New matching knit sweaters for Sam and Eileen from Jack and Claire. A new rifle for Claire, much to Castiel’s displeasure. A new laptop for Jack. A card from Cas to Eileen that neither alpha knew what it said but there were tears and hugs and happy smiles.

Then Dean was raising to his feet and grabbing something hidden away in the uppermost branches of their tree. He cleared his throat and all eyes around the room snapped up to him. First on the box in his hand, then to his content smile and crinkled eyes and the rainbow lights haloing his blonde hair. Jack’s head tilted in confusion as Claire choked on her cocoa, eyes widening.

Happy honey and cloves flooded the room instantly as Dean took another two steps forward before falling to one knee in front of where Castiel was still perched on the couch. “I know you know what this is and what’s going on… so do I still have to say it?” Cas nodded quickly, voice catching in his throat.

“Dean! Of course you do!”

“Shut your face before I take your shit back.” Dean wagged a threatening finger at Claire who snickered back. Turning back to his mate he huffed, but he smiled again anyway, “I love you, Cas. You know I do, and I’m happy to be your mate. Always.” Castiel bit his bottom lip as his eyes sparkled with flecks of brilliant gold amongst ocean blue. “But I’d be even happier if you’d be my husband.”

In lieu of answering Cas merely launched himself off the couch and tackled Dean to the ground. Both of them laughing as their mouths clashed together, none too gently and their family cheered around them. “So that a yes?” Dean murmured against Castiel’s lips after a moment of kissing him soundly.

Cas pulled back enough to give a small, soft lick to the mating bite on Dean’s neck before he nodded. “Yes. Of course yes.”

——————

The night was just starting to wind down when Claire gave Cas a pointed look in the kitchen as they were refilling their mugs that Dean didn’t miss. From his spot in the chair he raised an eyebrow at the silent standoff. Finally it seemed that Cas won when Claire threw her hands in the air, grabbed her, Jack and Eileen’s mugs and stormed out to rejoin the others.

Dean watched Cas shake his head in exasperation before he picked up Dean and Sam’s mugs. He passed Sam his on the way past, the younger Winchester took it with a soft thank you. Pausing briefly by the tree Castiel picked up a small thin box that everyone had noticed, but hadn’t mentioned. Stopping beside Dean’s chair he held out the cup in one hand and the box in the other. Dean furrowed his brows when Castiel’s scent turned apprehensive and he quickly turned away to go back to the kitchen.

As Cas picked up his cocoa and took a large sip, eyes nervously on Dean’s face, waiting for his reaction before quickly flitting away. There was a slight rustle as he slipped the wrapping paper off, then cardboard coming apart, then… silence. One beat. Two. Then the wobbly sound of photo paper moving against itself.

Taking a deep breath, Cas held his mug tightly between his hands and wandered back over to stand behind Dean’s chair. He hadn’t dared to look at his alpha’s face yet but he watched mesmerized as his fingers trailed over the black and white photo almost reverently. “This-- Cas?” Licking his lips, Cas leaned over the back of the chair to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders.

He was still staring at the sonogram when he whispered, “Cas... is this…” He broke off, hand starting to shake slightly. Cas let his scent soften enough that faint vanilla could come through the fresh rain and honey. He pressed a gentle kiss against his alpha’s temple and when he smiled he knew Dean could feel it too.

“That’s your pup, Dean.” The cocoa was dangerously close to tipping but neither of them noticed as the scent of joyous alpha saturated the air. “Merry Christmas.”

—————

Curled around his omega later that night the enormity of it sunk in all at once. With a feather light touch Dean pressed his hand against the Angel’s lower abdomen. The softly content answering purr told him Castiel was still awake, though he was completely pliant in Dean’s arms.

Stroking his fingers over the still flat plane of Castiel’s stomach Dean pressed his face into the hair at the nape of his neck. “That’s our pup.” Dean breathed in amazement, heart threatening to rip from his chest with how hard it was beating. “That’s our pup.”

Christmas, Dean decided, wasn’t actually so bad anymore. He has officially decided it was because of the bright smell of cloves and honey and vanilla wrapped in sunlight after a storm.

[theroguesully]

Iida x OC

Song: Girl All The Bad Guys Want by Bowling for Soup This is my first time writing in a very long time so I hope you like it.

8 o'clock, Monday night, and I'm waitin' To finally talk to a girl a little cooler than me.

"I don't even know why I agreed to this. It's a weeknight!" Tenya Iida, hero name Ingenium, exclaimed to Izuku Midoriya and Shoto Todoroki. It had already been a long week, and the loud bar was one of the last places Iida wanted to be. 

Todoroki looked at him out of the corner of his eye, stating simply: "I guess because Uraraka said she was dragging Yamada-Chan out tonight," before taking a sip of his drink. He fought the smirk that threatened to break out as he watched his friend start to sputter, turning red.

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about!" 

His mind wandered to the short, curvy hero with the short, purple hair. Maybe it was true that the American had, in fact, caught his eye when she moved to Japan to live with her uncle, Hizashi Yamada, and joined their class. Maybe what started as a fascination for an interesting quirk and a unique sense of style turned into much more over the last few years getting to know her. Under the ever-changing hair colors, the combat boots, the pointed ears, studded with small piercings, and mostly dark-colored wardrobe laid an incredibly sweet, wildly smart individual, whose academic prowess ended-up rivaling his own. Perhaps her fiery and passionate streak, which insured people knew she wasn't one to be walked all over, drew him in. It's even possible that, in his eyes, the parts of her which should be his polar opposites, actually seemed to compliment his personality. Sure, these are things he thought. Thought, but never once spoken out loud. 

With a sigh, he turned to see both Todoroki and Midoriya watching him, doubt ringing clear on their faces. 

And when she walks, All the wind blows and the angels sing. But she doesn't notice me!

"How long have you known?" 

Rubbing his chin in thought, Midoriya replied with: "I suppose I noticed it two years ago."

Todoroki cocked one eyebrow at this and asked: "Was it not our second year at UA? I know I wasn't as versed in these things as most, but I was pretty sure..."

"Second year?! There's no way I missed this for three whole years! Nope. I would've noticed," Midoriya argued.

"There were signs."

"Like?"

Todoroki sighed, took another sip, and stated: "Iida is normally straight-forward, matter-of-fact, and un-wavering. Around Yamada-chan, he turns into a blushing, babbling mess. Besides, he stares. I've never seen him stare before-"

"I do not stare" Iida cut him off, hastily, hands chopping through the air.

"You stare. I guess the biggest sign, however, was your reaction to Yamada-Chan dating Shinso." 

Midoriya gaped at the man, "Five years? Five years, and you haven't said anything, Iida? Why?"

"Because, Midoriya, while she may be perfect to me, I understand that women like her don't date men like me. She deserves someone who can keep up with her, someone more carefree, less rigid." 

Both men watched him sadly, surprised by his outburst, by his feelings for her and of himself. Midoriya opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"Izu-Kun!" Ochaco Uraraka exclaimed excitedly, seeing her boyfriend and friends, and began hurrying over, arm linked with a shorter woman. Kenzie Yamada, also known as Pro Hero: Shockwave. Iida took this time to look at the differences between the two friends; while Uraraka was the type of person many would assume Iida would fall for, with her tidy brown bob, pink flowy shirt, jeans, and heels, which seemed to match her overly friendly, excitable, and bubbly personality, Iida's eyes couldn't help but fall on Yamada. Her outfit consisted of a purple cropped top under a black fishnet top, ripped jeans, and worn-in black combat boots, topped by a black moto jacket. 

It's like a bad movie She is lookin' through me

Iida missed the slight blush on Yamada's cheeks as they arrived at the table. Todoroki slid over, making room between himself and Iida for her to sit as Uraraka bounced over to Midoriya and kissed him on the cheek before taking a seat next to him.

"So, how's that going, anyways?" Yamada asked, gesturing to Midoriya and Uraraka. They both blushed slightly, and the brunette giggled, "Really well, actually! We-" Iida had already stopped listening, focusing instead on the woman beside him who was listening intently, with a warm smile, to their friends excitedly talking about their latest date. 'She's always so happy when anything good happens to the people important to her,' Iida thought, warmly, 'It's one of the many things I lo-.' His thoughts were interrupted by a light poke to his ribs, coupled with a slight vibrating feeling he recognized as part of her quirk.

"So, Iida-Kun, anything going on in your love life? Or are you just as alone as Todoroki-Kun and I?" She asked, with a wink and a giggle. 'Why does her giggle have to be so cute? Focus, Tenya! She asked a question.'

"N-no," he stammered, adjusting his glasses, "I mean, I've had offers, but no."

"Tch, and why not?" She admonished the man, "You could probably have your pick of anyone. You're a real catch, y'know." 

'Not anyone, though,' the little voice in the back of his mind rang. 

"If only you took your own words to heart, Yama-Chan," Uraraka called to her friend in a singsong tone. "It isn't like I don't know Kirishima has been trying to set you up. You could always take him up on it since you refuse to do anything about the situation you mentioned." 

Midoriya spoke up, "What situation?" 

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," Yamada quickly said, shutting down that part of the situation. "Besides, Bakugo only mentioned that dating me 'wouldn't be the worst thing,' and Eji jumped on it and has been trying to set me up with him ever since. He's looking too much into it, is all."

"For Bakugo, it's basically a love confession," Todoroki deadpanned. She snorted a laugh before taking a sip of her drink. 

Iida had a calm, unbothered facade, but his brain was going into overdrive. 

'Of course Bakugo is interested.' 

'Why wouldn't he be? She can keep up with his aggressive personality.'

'She probably does like him. He's 'cool,' he has a 'bad-boy' persona.'

'He'd probably be able to keep things interesting.' 

As I fail miserably, Tryin' to get the girl all the bad guys want.

A few drinks and a couple hours later, Iida decided it was time to get back home. Yamada stayed close to Iida's side as they tidied up their table and settled their tabs. "I'm really glad you came out with us tonight, Iida-Kun. It seems like it's been so long since we've been able to hang out."

He looked down at the purple-haired woman with a fond smile, "You're right, I'm sorry it's been so long. I've been keeping up with your expl- I mean, everyone's exploits," Iida felt his face heating up. 

She bounced a bit, excited, "Oh! I've been keeping up with yours, too! You truly are a wonderful hero, Ingenium," she chuckled. When it was time for the five of them to split ways, Yamada gave Iida a tight hug. "Promise we'll hang out again soon? Also, would it kill you to call or text more often?" She asked with a laugh.

The man chuckled, taking in her warmth, her scent, and just how she felt in his arms. 

"I promise." 

Walking away, he knew these feelings would never go. For a split second, he considered just confessing to her, but he knew she would never return his feelings. 

'Cause she's the girl all the bad guys want

Bonus:

Walking back home with Uraraka, Yamada was deep in thought, a slight, bittersweet smile on her face. Looking at her friend, Uraraka asked the question that had been on her mind for a while now, "So...are you ever going to tell Iida?"

"Maybe..."

[caffeinechic]

Good Omens Fic Recs 1/?

I went to fix a link in this post and managed to delete the entire thing like an absolute fool. 

But my complete annoyance with myself won’t be bested with my determination to post this lot. So here I go again. I am so sorry if this has shown on your dash a million times. And sorry for the double links / tagging as I honestly went half mad over even the basics. This is where I am with life.

I have about 300 Good Omens fics bookmarked at this point to trying to pull out my absolute favourites sent me down a re-read (and in many cases a re-re-re-re-read) rabbit hole, which was an absolute joy so no complaints here!

These are just some of the ones that have just really stuck with me for one reason or another so I’ve gathered them up under the cut

4 Authors I just need to do like a HUGE rec for as they’re life ruiners. How dare they be this good. HOW DARE THEY.

@princip1914 @princip1914

Yeah I started pulling out the bookmarks I had for @princip1914 and realised it was...everything they’d written. All of it. Just...all of it.

But my particular favourite out of an outstanding batch is the following - which I have read approximately 70 squillion times. It stuck with me for so long in a way that I don’t think many fics have, ever. I actually can’t recommend this enough:

Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire

“But how,” Aziraphale gasped, agonized and close to tears. “How can you be sure. Crowley, dear, you got thrown out of heaven for questioning everything. How can you be sure about this?”

Crowley loves and Aziraphale doubts. God intercedes. A groundhog day kind of situation ensues wherein Aziraphale has to fall in love with Crowley over and over again as a human until he gets the point. Highlights include: delivering medical care in rural Louisiana, stargazing in Vegas, strangers on a train, and teaching middle school.

@bestoftheseekwill @bestoftheseekwill

Same “problem” with @bestoftheseekwill - READ EVERYTHING. Oh my god, the human AUs, THE HUMAN AUS.

Special shout out to Acts of Service which was the first Human AU I’d read and got me completely hooked and now whenever seekwill posts I immediately read.

Acts of Service

"You seem very familiar to me. I can’t say why that is." As Aziraphale spoke, Crowley turned away from the fire, and Aziraphale was momentarily concerned that the spell had been broken, that he had crossed some invisible line. But Crowley smiled and brought his beer to his lips.

"Maybe we met in a past life. Does your lot believe in that?"

"Past lives?"

"Yeah."

Aziraphale smiled into his wine. He was sure Crowley was poking fun, ever so slightly, but he liked it. "Not strictly speaking. No."

Crowley shrugged, taking another long sip of his beer. “A mystery then."

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

OH!! but also

That this could be the kingdom

- this one sat with me for a while. Stunning

I have lived my whole life with a wrecked heart. Fr. Aziraphale Fell’s present mirrors his past, as long ago roommate, classmate, and former friend Anthony Crowley reappears in his life in an unexpected and disarming way, challenging Aziraphale’s choices, and bringing him back to the breaking point, when he made a decision he couldn’t take back. It isn’t temptation, it’s revelation.

@mygalfriday @mygalfriday

Ah here, listen - I went to get my bookmark list for @mygalfriday and just ended up re-reading all 12 fics this week.

i can't say the words, so i wrote you into my verse

Aziraphale blinks as it slowly dawns on him exactly what he’s looking at. Crowley has a tattoo. Well, another one anyway. Unlike the small serpent curled just beneath his temple, this one takes up far more space.

And listen if you don’t read the blind date au series then I don’t know how to help you!

I couldn’t find Rend_Herring  Found @rendherring @rendherring on Tumblr but I had to put my phone and my head down after I read both of these.

The Lightness of You

God should not have built them with such discrepancy, made them need for love, and long for wholeness, then left them to their own devices.

This Soul Outstreaming

“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault.

Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap.

When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks.

Aziraphale, unaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

Fics that, to me, are just stunners. I love them so much.

Slow Show - @mia-ugly @mia-ugly Honestly if you’re seeing a rec list WITHOUT slow show...I’d be legit surprised In which temptations are accomplished, grand romantic gestures are made, and two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side (at last, at last.)

Barriers, and the breaking thereof - @cardinaldaughter @cardinaldaughter Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack.

Perhaps it’s time to let them fall.

Anthophilia - @fortinbrasftw @fortinbrasftw Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

The road to rapture has a lot of pit stops - @emmagrant01 @emmagrant01 Five times they kissed over four thousand years, and one time they actually meant it.

Demon and Angel Professors - Ghostinthehouse - not 100% sure that this is also their tumblr handle so if anyone can confirm that would be great! They're professors. They're married. Their students don't realise. Cue shenanigans.

Multiple short arcs with one-shots (and often pauses) between them. Characters continue from one arc to the next. It's marked as complete, because each short arc is complete in itself, but there will be more arcs and one-shots in the future.

The Grinch Who Sold Christmas - @forineffablereasons @forineffablereasons Anthony J. Crowley, a big-time attorney from London, is sent to small-town Tadfield to close a deal before Christmas that would sell out half of high street to a fancy developer and put him up for partner at his firm. The deal will run the local businesses out and change the landscape of the town forever, but that’s none of Crowley’s business; he’s just doing a job.

But as the town invites him to share in their lives and their hopes and their holiday celebrations, and as the enigmatic Aziraphale invites him to share in something more, Crowley starts to wonder: if everything has its price, is he still willing to pay what this deal will cost?

Slow - write_away It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions.

You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it.

It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart.

Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

You, soft and only - @thehoyden He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel.

“Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.

A Bushel and a Peck- @thehoyden  Sometimes, a family is a demonic nanny, an angelic cook, and a kid who isn't actually the Antichrist.Or: Crowley helps Aziraphale secure a different position at the Dowling Estate.

Long is the way, and hard - Kate_Lear The first time Crawley meets the angel, the celestial being is twisting its shining white robe in its fingers and looking wretched. It hardly spares him a glance as he shifts from snake to human, and Crawley is a touch put-out. It’s taken some practice to be able to do it so fluidly.

A story of Crowley's thoughts about Aziraphale, from the Beginning to the present day.

And also of temptation, and want, and whether - for a Fallen Angel - redemption is possible after all.

the 21st century, in which they finally work it out - @fieldbears @fieldbears This is light speed in comparison to the last few centuries of their relationship, but Crowley is barely holding on to his patience.

A Few More Rescues - @poetic----nonsense @poetic----nonsense 5+1 Times Crowley Rescued Aziraphale According to the Romantic Tropes of the Era, and One Time Aziraphale Turned It Around on Him (plus Prologue)

The Cottage, the Husbands (series) - Dragonsquill A demon and an angel fall in love and decide to take on the monumental task of living together in a cottage by the sea.

[newandfiguringitout]

May 2nd Harpoon

Yes I know it is late at night, yes I know the whump doesn’t come in until the end, and yes I do realize that this copies pirates of the Caribbean. I’m sorry okay. This is a direct continuation of this piece which was the writing challenge for yesterday. I will again apologize for not writing this very well, I am not very good at writing but hope to improve over the month.

CW: mentions of dehydration, humiliation, aches and pains, rope burn, minor gore/allusion to gore, idk but best to be safe.

He guessed it had been around noon when Rig had visited him, thankfully the pirates seemed to have forgotten about their captive and no one had bothered him. Dalton would still get the occasional spray from the sea, salt getting in his eyes and irritating the newly formed welts on his wrists. However he tried to look on the bright side, and the sun had moved over on the starboard side of the vessel. So it no longer blinded him into oblivion and his headache was getting better. The water Riggy had brought him had been like a gift from the gods above, almost completely driving out the wool in his head until there was only peach fuzz remaining. 

Dalton tried to let his thoughts dance with the waves below him, but they kept turning back to mermaids. Riggs had been so afraid while listening to him speak, and the quiet intensity as he spoke of them. . . It was strange. The look in his eyes had been haunted, almost as if the lad spoke from fist hand. He had probably spent most of his life on this ship already, what with the way he spoke about the ship, but he didn’t speak of any father on board. Dalton found it difficult to imagine the kid knowing his father and not mentioning him in one of his stories. 

“Oi, stowaway!" Dalton jerked from his thoughts and craned his neck to the same pirate from before. Now that the sun had moved to a different location, he was able to see the other man clearly. He had a sharp jaw lined with several weeks of dark stubble on tan skin. If Dalton had to guess he would say the man was in his mid, maybe late twenties. He had a faded blue bandana covering most of his head, a bit of black hair stuck out the bottom. Dalton would've killed for a bandana right now. 

His own shoulder length hair was beginning to look rather, eh, messy. It was plastered to his face and itchy with sweat. He usually kept it tied back with a strip of cloth, but his tie had come out while they strapped him to the anchor. He missed his hair tie. 

"You wanna get off that?" The question throws Dalton a bit off, but oh that sounded like a dream come true. The aches and pains of standing like this all day were adding up. He could hardly think of a muscle that was not sore.

"If you're offering, I would not decline." He answered smoothly. Trying very hard to appear unaffected by the heavenly offer.

The pirate grinned, surprisingly not missing a tooth. "Then earn it."

Confusion danced along the captive's face. "I beg your pardon?" 

"Sing. You look like you know a tune or two. Sing and we'll stuff ya back in the brig." Dalton wasn't sure if the man was poking fun at him or not. But the brig sounded very, very lovely. 

"Why do you want me to sing?" 

"Does it matter?" The man seemed amused at the question. "You sing or you stay right there on that anchor, the choice is yours Dolly." 

Dalton's face burned at the nickname, but it wasn't as noticeable in the light of the soon to be setting sun. "What would you like me to sing?"

"Doesn't fucking matter," the pirate threw his hands in the air, exasperated probably, "just sing for a while and we’ll let you down.”

Dalton sighed and glanced down at the water and began the first verse of 'Waif in the Waters' a classic ballad about a man falling in love with his reflection. It was based on a Greek myth, but myths right now seemed oddly appropriate. 

His voice carried out over the waters, he wasn’t sure how the crew was supposed to hear him but Dalton had the gnawing suspicion that the songs weren’t meant for them. The words were easy and the tune fairly simple, the type of song a drunkard would start only for the rest of the bar to carry into the street outside.

When he reached the chorus, he extended it, forcing the song to lengthen. Dalton was fairly confident in his easy baritone, exceedingly grateful for not taking choral lessons and learning to sing a tenor pitch. Not that he cared about the opinions of pirates, but it would be far worse to sing with them laughing at him. 

When he reached the end of the song, the sun had begun to sink, giving way for the horizon to darken. The pirate ordered him to sing louder, so he obliged. He began to work his way through every single tavern song he knew and even threw in an epic poem turned ballad. No one seemed to mind his singing and he figured he shouldn’t stop. 

By this time the sun had sunk beneath the surface of the waves, the crew had lit lanterns and torches to compete against the engulfing darkness. It made Dalton feel very alone to be just outside the bubble of light, normally that wouldn’t bother him, but the feeling of isolation hurt. It hurt more than he cared to ever admit, or ever would admit willingly. But the ache of loneliness dug deep inside and burrowed a den in his chest, refusing to leave. 

“Sing us a love song,” the same pirate called down to him, “you’ve got to know one or two of those.” Laughter erupted from the deck. 

Swallowing hard, Dalton racked his mind for a decent tune. Like a whisper on a breeze, he began to sing. The song he chose was an old ballad, traditionally sung by a man with a large female accompaniment, started soft and airy. There was often a harp or a flute playing alongside the singer, until the song took a dark turn. What started as a delicate courtship was thrown into a fury of violent staccato describing a demon, it was filled with strong brass and a nearly overwhelming amount of energy and passion. It alternated between the love of the couple and the stalking of the demon. Each change was sudden and unexpected, even if you hear it many times in a row the swift changes never fail to make you jump. Even the performers themselves would appear shocked as if they themselves hadn’t anticipated what they would play. 

It was a fairly difficult piece, but it had been the only one that came to mind. Dalton closed his eyes to focus only on the song when something whacked his head, causing him to stop. Confused Dalton looked up to see Rigg, wide eyed. His questions died on his tongue when the song didn’t stop. 

Dalton’s eyes widened as he looked out over the darkened waters. Scattered over the now calm surface were half a dozen floating things. Heads. Faces of ethereal beauty, all singing in unison to the love song. 

They looked so lonely out there. Only them speckling the surface of the waters, so cold and alone. They don’t have to be alone, we could be alone together. 

Transfixed, he watched the nearest mermaid come closer. She was beautiful, her eyes nearly glowing a deep amber. Like pools of honey. Songs could be sung of only her eyes, deep pools, he could fall into eyes like those. He would be content, only to stare into the beautiful eyes. Her skin was a rich whisky color, and tattooed with flowing white lines. The very sea itself seemed trapped within those thick curving lines, flowing over her face, neck, and the tops of her shoulders.

Rig retreated up the ship, back on deck but Dalton hardly registered it. His core focus was on the angel below him. She had moved closer, now hardly a dozen feet from him. He struggled against the bonds, if he could just go to her, she wouldn’t be so lonely. He could help. If only the ropes didn’t bind him up here, away from her. 

He felt so wrong, to be up here, away from her. So close, so very close. Tears pricked his eyes as he doubled his efforts to get free. He had to get to her, had to be near her. She was everything. If his tongue knew how to work he would beg to be let down, beg to go to her. He needed her. 

She looked up at him with lonely eyes. She wanted him down. Her face silently begging him to join her. His eyes stayed locked on hers as she swam even closer. Tail becoming visible beneath the churning waters. It was also marked with the flowing white tattoos that decorated the rest of her.

Their eyes stayed locked together, inseparable need binding them together. They stayed locked together right up until the moment the harpoon sliced through her lower tail.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Fifty: Far From Home ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

The worst part about his job? The business trips.

It doesn’t matter how fancy the hotel, how grand the destination, how appealing the attractions of the local area while he’s there.

Because all Sasuke can think about while he’s gone is what he left behind.

He’s only been married for six months now. But that doesn’t mean he misses Hinata any less ardently whenever his father sends him out on these escapades. At least Fugaku gave him some leeway when they were first married: two months without a single excursion from his new wife.

But...work is work, and he couldn’t avoid them forever.

Itachi, of course, is much in the same boat. Fugaku keeps him just as busy, if not more so given his lined up future role as CEO after their father. Add in the fact he’s already got a child, and he’s run ragged...and just as homesick whenever he’s far from home.

This time, they have a rare duo outing. From their home city of Nagoya, they’re to fly to Los Angeles for a new trade deal Fugaku’s got planned. It must be a massive one if he’s sending both brothers.

Packing up his suitcase the day before, Sasuke does his best to look at the bright side. If this deal goes through, both he and his brother have been promised a rather sizeable bonus. Something Sasuke can’t really say no to. After all, the pair are doing their best to save up to leave their (admittedly very nice) apartment for something a bit more…homey. An actual house, to be exact.

Because eventually, they’d like to have a kid or two. Granted, not for a couple of years yet (or so they plan), but it’s never a bad thing to put some money away in the rainy day fund.

...not that either Uchiha brother is underpaid by any means. But, semantics.

Happening to be home from work herself, Hinata’s been helping out with preparations: mostly in regards to making sure all the laundry was done that morning for him to cram into the space he’s allotted in his suitcase. Also helping to round up all his tech he’ll need: laptops, thumb drives, cell phones, and a ridiculous amount of cables and cords. He’s got a rather important presentation to give, after all.

Hence having five copies of it.

Hey, he’s a guy that likes to be prepared.

He even gave one to Itachi to hang onto.

“Okay, here’s the last of it.”

Turning from his position alongside the bed where he’s perched his gear, Sasuke sees Hinata haul in the laundry basket full of newly-folded clothes. “Thanks.”

“I think I might make some lunch - anything sound good?”

“Just something light - I don’t want to risk having an upset stomach on a flight that long.”

Smiling behind a hand, Hinata nods, retreating to do just that.

As she goes, Sasuke’s movements slow, watching her go. He’s going to be gone for nearly two weeks. Granted, most overseas trips are on the longer side. They try to cover more during their opportunity to meet in person, after all. But that means even longer without being home. Without home-cooked meals, a warm body to sleep next to, company to relax with.

Sure, he loves his brother...but his brother’s not a wife. Besides, Fugaku went overboard and got them each their own room.

He’s the type to flaunt.

Mood a bit melancholy, Sasuke finishes up the clothes portion of his packing and decides to save all his gadgets for later. For now, he wants to soak up some wife time before they call it a night. His flight is in the morning, so this is really his last chance until he gets back.

Juggling a few things in the apartment’s kitchen, Hinata glances up at the movement, giving a soft smile. “Taking a break?”

“More like procrastinating.”

Sympathy tinges her expression. “I’m sure it will go quickly.”

“They never go quickly.”

Hinata’s expression then falls to a flat pout. “...I’m trying to be optimistic!”

“I know. And I love that about you.” Coming up behind her, Sasuke just...plunks his chin atop the crown of her head, leaning ever so slightly as she works at the stove. “You’re the sunshine to my clouds.”

That earns him a soft snort. “And you’re the cheese to my crackers - w-what was that line?”

“Me being out of sorts because I’m going to miss you so badly.”

“At least you get to see your brother for a while, right? You two never have any time, since you’re both so busy…”

“...I guess.” In truth, they’ll likely have little downtime to enjoy that time together. But he’s already being a sourpuss, so...he’ll leave that part out. For Hinata’s sake.

They indulge in lunch before Sasuke gets back to packing, making sure he’s got every doodad and thingamabob he’ll need to make this trip work in the tech department. By early afternoon he’s pretty sure he’s got everything stuffed into the case, and he leaves it by the door for a quick exit tomorrow morning.

But for now...it’s lounging time.

They pop in a movie to waste a bit of time, snuggled up on the couch and mostly just zoning out. Or...Sasuke is. Hinata actually looks pretty invested. But she’s always been rather easy to entertain. Which is good. Because Sasuke often lacks a sense of humor that’s not flat and dry, so even he can still make her laugh.

A miracle, really.

By the time the movie ends, it’s time for dinner, which they prepare together now that Sasuke isn’t otherwise preoccupied. Instead, he handles the more mundane parts (the ones Hinata trusts him with) while she does...pretty much everything else.

It’s not that he’s a bad cook, he just...has an aptitude for fire. Even when...there shouldn’t be any fire. Which is why he’s not allowed near anything remotely warm.

Even the microwave is an iffy subject.

From there, Sasuke decides to double check his stuff. Because he will not be happy if he gets all the way to Los Angeles and realizes something is missing. A cord, sure - he can buy a new one. Same with clothes. But some things are rather irreplaceable.

Watching from the couch, curled up with a mug of tea, Hinata lets herself be amused. “Got it all?” she calls once he zips the bag closed for what probably won’t be the last time.

“Think so.”

“It’s a wonder you ever manage to leave for these t-trips with all your fussing,” she can’t help but tease, leaning her head on his shoulder innocently as he plops beside her.

“Not sure my father would consider that an acceptable excuse for missing a flight.”

“Probably not.”

Hinata then starts up knitting, Sasuke leafing through a magazine. He hates how...idle they get when they’re just waiting for him to leave. It feels like they should be doing...more. But what more is there to do?

Besides, well...the obvious. But he’s a little stressed for that. At least, he tells himself, they’re spending time together. Besides, neither of them are particularly...active. In the sense they don’t need to be doing something to enjoy themselves. Companionable quiet is their specialty.

So maybe this is the best way to spend his evening.

“...think we should get to bed? Don’t want to be groggy at the airport.”

“Yeah...I guess so.” He doesn’t want to sleep - sleeping will bring tomorrow all the faster! But in the end he has little choice - there’s no way in hell he’s pulling an all nighter.

Once they’re tucked into bed, he latches onto her with a sigh. “...I hate this.”

A hand brushes his hair consolingly. “I know...me too.” But this is what his job entails. It’s either suck it up, or probably lose speaking privileges with his father if he quits. “You can call me any time.”

“Time zones, Hinata.”

“I don’t care. Any time means any time. If I don’t answer, just...text me instead. I’ll write back when I can, o-okay?”

A nod against her hair.

“...I’m turning out the light now.”

“Okay.”

“You need to sleep now.”

Silence. And then, “...okay.”

Once it’s dark, she shimmies in his grip to give his brow a kiss. “...wake me before you go. I want to see you off.”

“Will do.” Returning the gesture, he holds it a long moment, as though to make it easier to recall once he’s alone. “...night, ‘nata.”

“Goodnight, Sasuke.”

                                                           .oOo.

     An entry this early? What witchcraft is this?! xD ("early" being a very relative term, given it's still after midnight lol)      Admittedly, I've been feeling rather burnt out lately...but that's probably mostly because I have another big project going on: I'm hosting a ship week here on Tumblr! One focusing on OCs paired with canons, lol - and I'm not only hosting, but also participating, so I've been TRYING to get mine done in advanced. It starts Saturday, and I have 3/7 entries done...whoops. But at least 4 is halfway done. Might poke at it a bit more tonight.      BUT ANYWAY, if you notice things are a bit...shorter or seem a bit more rushed for the next ten days or so, that's probably why! Sorry ;;;      As for this piece, it's Sauce being a lil prematurely homesick in modern. Not connected to any other pieces, just...random fluff, lol - I think he's the sort to be lowkey clingy. At least Hinata doesn't mind x3      Anywho, that's all from me tonight! Thanks for reading~

[midnatt-heronweather]

2020 review

Disclaimer: You won’t hear much about the virus in this. I’m not a denier, I know the damage and destruction covid19 has caused and the death toll, therefore I am not yet cold enough not to realise this is going to sound completely selfish, but that is my decision.  My reviews focus on MY year. Just so you’re aware. “I accept chaos, I’m not sure whether it accepts me.” Bob Dylan.

2020... What can I say?

This was the year I decided to officially identify as Non-Binary, not that anyone actually cares or believes me or things i'm "(insert stereotype at will)" enough. except for those very VERY rare people who do and who actually listen and hear me when I speak

Anyway -It has been a trashcan fire of a year since February/March February when I saw the Hu and Counterfeit alongside Ally. And I say February/March because that was the weekend I say my year ended...the good part anyway. Because it was that weekend when I got the ultimate honour, privilege and miracle of meeting Jason Carter, After that it was like a Dementor had French kissed the year and I can’t be the only one who thought it? Conventions and gigs postponed, rescheduled and ultimately cancelled, masks, social distancing, lockdowns the works. And can I just say - I didn’t clap, and I don’t feel in the slightest bit ashamed for it. Despite or maybe because I have friends and a few family who work in the NHS I couldn't bear to be a part of the hypocritical BS idea. I live in a country that will clap for their 'beloved' life saving NHS but then stand silent when Pay rises are frozen and when the NHS is in danger, we as a country expect a lot but don't lift a finger to gave back, clapping doesn’t pay bills. But...Bright points in the year let’s try staying positive and leaving the crap outside shall we...well... The main one has got to be that the US finally found their sense and President Elect Joe Biden will b sworn in January 20, 2021. After that... I’ll have to get back to you. Oh...no..no that’s not one... seriously I’ll have a think and get back to you. Conventions: Just one this year, for me, because of the obvious... But what a convention FCD Events presents 2258 a Babylon 5 Conventions: Where, as well as finally being among actual self confessed fans and being able to tick a b5 convention off my bucket list after starting cons way too late to attend the OG cons I did the impossible... I MET JASON CARTER... have I mentioned this? Have I? Should I say t again? I MET JASON CARTER!!! Also Mira Furlan, Tracy Scoggins and Patricia Tallman, but I met him! Finally! And... Just a reminder I did warn you guys, several times that it was likely hell would freeze over if I ever got that particular honour, do not say I didn’t. I’d never done an FCD before, I’d meant to, even bought a ticket but it just never seemed to happen, but the second someone said b5 con, I was so there! Karan Robinson made my year by making me the Anla’Shok uniform. And Nadine added the cherry on top by making the belt buckle that ONLY Marcus and Entil’Zha Sinclair wear: D (for the record: Velcro still hates me) David one of the organisers of FCD kept randomly shouting “We live for the one.” And when people other than m actually knew the response and responded... dude kick in the feels I kid you not. Next Year (Angel Willing) Adam and I are attending the Teen Wolf conventions entitled “Howl at the Moon 4” in Paris, France... which is cool on so many levels not least of which being I get to meet JR Bourne and Daniel Sharman again and get to visit the church of St Julian of the poor. And yes, there are cons planned here in the UK. But... well. It’s already looking Grey, and not the good kind. Music and Gigs: Two gigs one after the other at the 02 Ritz in Manchester. The First:

The Hu a Mongolian band who Ally really likes and I think are pretty cool. They are amazing live there’s no doubt, can hold their own in England even in a room of idiots. The 2nd :

Counterfeit (also with Ally) I went VIP and got to meet the boys again, and listen to a Q&A with them. I will forever love them, not just because of Jamie’s acting side despite what people say. Didn’t realise how special until recently though because;  after keeping fans going and hyping up new singles during lockdowns, they recently decided to go their separate ways. Jamie’s gone solo and he’s put three songs out on YouTube. _ I was meant to be attending a one off gig by Ruelle and Fleurie both of who had music used on Shadowhunters, even talked my friend Lou into it, but it was a victim of the lockdowns and things and I’m not the optimistic type so I doubt it’ll ever happen now, will be lucky if even one of the ladies comes over here if I’m honest. Recently I’ve rediscovered a love for Black Veil Brides and their leader Andy Black’s solo stuff. Olivia Hyde of Bad Pollyanna recently killed everyone in her black unicorn’s fanbase with an amazing solo album, me included. Ally has introduced me to a few interesting bands this year, *Wingtips – very 80s Goth, very Ally (translation: very cool.) *Allegiance Reign – a Japanese Samurai metal band,  not sure what Ally actually thinks of these guys, she found them while perusing YouTube and thought of me :D Suggestions greatly accepted, I am always up for giving new stuff a try. Hopefully next year things will even out and gigs will be able to be put on again. TV and Fandom’s: *We FINALLY got Roswell: New Mexico in the UK, and ITV blitzed through 2 seasons in less than a month, but it was enough for me to decide I loved it, maybe more than I did the original. Alex is my fave, but obv Michael isn’t half bad, nor is Max when he’s not making goo-goo eyes at Liz. * Finally got to see 9-1-1 Lone Star and I absolutely love it, (I kinda knew I would from all the talk) * Decided to give the Charmed reboot a 2nd look and it’s proved addictive, now waiting for s2 to be downloadable on Amazon or something. *In march I was so, so excited for the return of The Expanse and the fact the main cast were coming to a con in the UK, then.. The verse went to hell. I still Love the Expanse, but I’m not as die hard as I was, not for lack of trying. Still love it for Anna of course, any excuse to see her. *After 15 years Supernatural finally ended in 2020 with season15: I stopped watching religiously at the end of season 6 but that does not mean I stopped liking the show just that I didn’t like the direction (like with The Expanse recently) I loved watching the reaction of the fans, and how much they (we if I’m counted) mean to the cast. * I have to mention Cursed... If only to say HOLY HELL DANIEL! 𝑴𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑻𝑽 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒐𝒇 2020 Cursed 9-1-1 Lone Star & 9-1-1 Warrior Nun Prodigal Son Penny Dreadful: City of Angels Doctor who (Officially season12) Roswell s1&2 (it counts cos ITV only just got the reboots) Charmed s1&2(it counts cos E4 only just got the reboots) Call the Midwife (s9 btw) Our Girl Strike Back: Vendetta Friends: “Friendship ... is born at the moment when one man says to another "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .” ― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

My understanding of "friendship." is skewed, and I’m not saying that to be "Vulcan." it’s honest, and anyone who wants to know how or why just has to ask. But let’s leave it at that for this. It makes some things more stark... and I've said this recently, but this binfire has made even me more aware of who’s out there in my verse, whose pack, who’s potential, and who’s just pathetic. The last I’m not going to waste my breath on. The first two: Pack and Potential (read: new acquaintances /potential friends) Pack: Yes I go on about friends as 'Pack like a person whose OD'd on Teen Wolf... because I am so :P My pack as a whole are varied, and spread out across this country with a few dotted around Europe and Aus. hopefully they know who they are because I don't do mushy crap as they know. But if they do know, they know I'm there when I'm needed and more than willing to sod off when not. Yorkshire brass makes me frank and I’d hope fair. There are 2...mayb 3 who sit above the rest, in special place for the things they've done and things they've been through with me. I make no denial of that. But everyone is important to me. I wouldn't change them for anything.... Ok... tell a lie, maybe 1 or 2 when they do my box in, but that’s only like for a week maybe less. I've spent too many years and got too many scars and burned too many photos and bridges because of fake people and users to not be honest to a fault. It’s who I am. Potential: the Counterfeit gig in Manchester, 2258 and yes even Tiktok have given me the opportunity to make some interesting acquaintances this year, and some I hope will become friends in the real in the future, but for now I will say - "I am defensive, stand off ish, sometimes bull headed and of course opinionated, but I am by no means blind. Or blinkered despite what may be said of me. I am there when needed, if I can be of use, just poke me."   Ave Atqua Vale This section has its own post these days. Sadly. Pictures Will try and make one of my “a year in ten pics.” Posts later. Final words While I am not fond of this time of year, Enjoy your celebrations whatever for they may take, I will be watching The Magicians / Call the Midwife and plotting 202? Cosplays. I will be here when (fk knows why) I'm needed. Otherwise-  Compliments of the season, now go get a beer, i'm sure you need it after reading this crap.

in the words of The one and only Jason Carter  “Hindsight is 2020″

[bryanloritts]

The Fingerprints Of Jesus: Luke 4:16–30

It was an early September morning in 1910 when Clarence Hiller was murdered.  His wife immediately got in touch with the police, who within an hour found a man believed to be his killer by the name of Thomas Jennings. He had blood on him, and his arm had been injured badly. And yet, it was obvious the police had no clear proof that Jennings had committed the crime. So they began poking around the Hiller home, and they discovered that whoever killed Clarence had come in through the kitchen window leaving four fresh fingerprints. It’s here where they decided, for the first time in U.S. history, to submit fingerprints as evidence in a case, and they won the conviction sending Jennings to jail.

Creating the Need All of us in this room have a unique set of ridges on our fingers called fingerprints. These ridges are so unique that no two people have the same exact pattern. Our fingerprints are key to our identity. When it comes to Jesus Christ, I want you to see the four biographies written about him called the Gospels, as His unique fingerprints. They point to the unique identity of Jesus Christ. What is that unique identity? Jesus Christ is the Messiah, the anointed Son of God. He’s not just a good man. He’s not some prophet, nor was He a fictional character. He was a real person, who made real valid claims of deity, died a real death and rose to a real life so that we could have a real future and a real hope. This is who Jesus is! And over the next several weeks of advent season, I want to draw our attention to the fingerprints, the identity of Jesus.

Now some of you are here and you would say, “not buying it. I just can’t accept that Jesus was God. He was a good man, not God.” Listen to what the lead singer of U2, Bono, says to this, “I think it’s the defining question for a Christian: Who was Christ? And I don’t think you’re let off easily by saying, ‘A great thinker,’ or ‘A great philosopher.’ Because actually, He went around saying He was the Messiah. That’s why He was crucified. He was crucified because He said He was the Son of God. So, He either, in my view, was the Son of God, or He was nuts! When people say, ‘Good teacher,’ ‘Prophet,’ ‘Really nice guy,’ this is not how Jesus thought of Himself. So you’re left with a challenge in that, either Jesus is who He said He was or a complete and utter nut case. And I believe that Jesus was, you know, the Son of God”—Bono, Focus on the Family interview, 2013.

Do you get what Bono is saying? The defining question of your life, that everyone must answer, is who was Jesus? Now here’s where Bono nails it—If anyone says they are the Messiah you have one of two extremes. Either they are completely nuts, or they are completely right, no middle ground. And if Jesus is who He said he is, then this completely changes everything. I must take Him seriously. I must see His words not as some tweets to contemplate, but inspiring directives to organize our lives around. This is Jesus.

I want you to track with me over the next several weeks as we look at the fingerprints, the identity, of Jesus. No, this is not going to be a series of lectures in which I prove to you His identity, as much as it will be a series wrestling with what it really means to follow Jesus, this man who said He was the Messiah.  Because if He is right—and he is—then we need to know what it means to follow Him. So my hope is if you’re not a Christian, you are convinced and inspired to follow Him. If you are a Christian, that you will be inspired and emboldened to follow Him even closer. Let’s look at it.

The Identity of Jesus is Comprehensive—Luke 4:16–19 As we come to Luke 4, you should know this is right at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. In Bay Area speak, our passage represents Jesus’ IPO—His initial public offering. This is a key moment in the life and ministry of Jesus. So where do we find Jesus? He’s in the synagogue, Luke notes, “as was His custom.” I love this, and won’t park here for too long. In other words, Jesus made a regular practice of going to church every week. That’s interesting.  Jesus, who is God, who wrote the book, and was the focus of the worship songs that were sung, went to church every week. It was His custom to be a part of corporate worship. If Jesus prioritized this, then how much more so should we? And while in church, Luke says Jesus goes up onto the stage, unfolds the Scriptures to what we know as Isaiah 58 and Isaiah 61, reads the verses, and says repeatedly that what you just heard has been fulfilled in me.  Drops the mic and sits down! Do you see why we say you don’t have the option to say He was just a good man. Like if I did what He did, I’m either crazy or who I said I was…no middle ground.

Now Jesus has just created a real awkward moment, hasn’t He? There’s a tension in the room. And if you are in the room, you’re left with a huge question of “what am I going to do with this?” That’s what Jesus does now. Jesus comes in and creates awkward moments in our lives when we least expect it. He creates one in here every week when we give the altar call. Let’s call it what it is—it’s awkward to walk down front and to say “I don’t have it all together and I need Christ to fix me.” This is what Christ does. He creates awkward moments.  Or when you’re just driving along and Christ begins to speak to you about the way you just talked to your roommate on campus and He asks you to repent.  Awkward. Or when Christ begins to speak to you about that sinful relationship you’re in and He asks you to end it. Awkward. Or when He asks you to give a generous gift you hadn’t financially planned for. Awkward. Oh yes, Jesus is still in the business of awkward, and the great question of our lives is “how will we respond when Jesus drops the mic on us?”

But look at what He says in the sermon. Look back at verses 16–19 with me.  Now the question on the table is, “who are the poor, the blind, the captives and the oppressed?” Is this literal or spiritual? Scholars are agreed—it’s both, and this gels with the ministry of Jesus. If you want to investigate the ministry of Jesus, you know that He came to offer salvation to those who are spiritually poor, spiritually blind, spiritually held captive and spiritually oppressed. He did this by calling people to repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. So here we see the spiritual sense of it. But we also see Jesus literally opening the eyes of the blind, literally feeding people, literally calling us to visit those in prison, and to reach out to the financial poor and marginalized. So that we see the identity of Jesus, His fingerprints are comprehensive. The Gospel He proclaimed was both spiritual and social! This is the way of Jesus.

To go the way of Jesus is to model and proclaim a comprehensive Gospel that touches both the spiritual and social needs of people. This is the legacy of Christianity we come from. It was the early Christians who not just met on Sunday mornings to pray, but were the first to care for the hurting in Rome. In fact, one Roman emperor complained that Christians were taking better care of their hurting than Rome! It was Christians who held church councils defending the deity of Jesus and started hospitals for the sick. It was the father of the reformation, a Jesus-loving man named Martin Luther, who defended salvation by grace alone through faith alone, but who also put himself in harms way by caring for the sick in a town that was ravaged by a plague. It was a Jesus-loving group of “evangelical” Christians in the 18th century called the Clapham Sect who took on and brought down slavery. And it was Christians who marched in the streets of Selma, Birmingham and other places singing the songs of Zion while standing up for voters rights. See, the Bible has no category for a Christianity that is content with Bible studies, church attendance and prayer meetings while doing nothing to address the needs of the hurting.

This is why our commitment at ALCF through our Justice and Compassion ministry lead by Cheryl Degree is to provide you with opportunities to get your hands dirty by walking with those who are in prison, supporting those who have gotten pregnant out of wedlock and feeding the homeless. In fact, one of the best things you can do today is to go sign up for our Angel Tree project where you can get gifts for children of the incarcerated. This is the identity of Jesus, and the way of the Christian! This is what it means to follow Him!

The Identity of Jesus is Connected to the Needy—Luke 4:23–27 So Jesus ends His sermon, says He is the fulfillment which is Him saying He is God, and then Luke notes the crowd began to say to each other, “Hey, ain’t that Joe’s boy? We know him.” Jesus cuts in and says that doubtless they will quote the proverb saying, “Physician heal yourself.” What does this mean? This was a proverb that pretty much says it’s one thing for a physician to heal others, but if he can’t heal himself then that’s a problem. Now, Jesus is in Nazareth which is His hometown. They have heard that He’s done some things in other towns and areas. So when they say, “Physician heal yourself,” they’re saying, “if you are really who you say you are, prove it to us by doing some kind of a special act right here in your home.” In other words, they want Jesus to be like an actor and audition for them, and if He passes the audition, then they’ll sign on and follow Him.

This still goes on today, and it’s some of you sitting here. In some way, you’re saying your own version of this proverb to Jesus. I’ll follow Jesus when He cures me of cancer. I’ll follow Jesus if He fixes my finances. I’ll follow Jesus if He brings my child back to a healthy place. I’ll follow Jesus if He ends the suffering. This is what a young Steve Jobs did. As a little boy, he walked into his church one day and demanded to speak to the pastor. He said to the pastor, “Can God fix anything?” The pastor said, “yes.” Jobs then took out a magazine with a picture of children starving and said, “then why won’t God fix this?”  Dissatisfied with the answer, Jobs stormed out and never went back to church.  Jesus had unfortunately “failed” His audition for Jobs. Now you do see the problem here, don’t you? When we demand that Jesus audition for us, we are putting ourselves in the seat of authority, and making Jesus subservient to our demands, and He will have none of that.

So how does Jesus respond to this proverb? He tells them two quick stories.  Notice the similarities. Both have people of great need. Both are Gentiles. Both go to powerful spiritual leaders who happen to be Jewish men. One happens to be financially rich, and the other financially poor, but it is their need that drives them to get help. And this is the point Jesus is making. Jesus likens Himself to Elijah and Elisha and says in so many words, I am only here for those who see their need, to those who have found themselves in dire straits. In fact, just one chapter later, Jesus will say, “I haven’t come for the healthy, but for the sick.”

Some years ago, a friend of mine went to the doctor for his annual physical. They did their usual poking and prodding, asked questions and ran some blood work. A few days later, he got a call to come in because his blood work was off.  They ran some more tests and discovered he had cancer. They operated, and got it, and today he’s fine. But I’ll never forget what he said. He said he felt completely fine and, the scary part was, if he would have allowed how he felt to keep him from the doctors, things could have been far worse.

The problem with many people here in the Bay is they feel fine. Life is great.  But they don’t realize that lying under the hood of their life is a devastating disease with eternal consequences called sin. And until you really see and embrace this, you will never go to the Great Physician, Jesus Christ. This is why one of the greatest gifts Jesus can ever give to someone is pain, because it alerts us to our need with the hopes of sending us running to Him!

Now what does all this mean for us as Christ-followers? Several things, but let me give you one. If Jesus came for the needy, then the way of Jesus is for us to immerse ourselves with people who are just needy—both spiritual and literal.  We need to be around non-believers and the poor. Some years ago, I began to be alarmed by the nauseating level of materialism that was in my heart. So I quietly signed up to serve at a local treatment center for addicts. I would go once a week, not to preach, but just pick up trash and clean toilets and talk to the men. This lead to Korie and I throwing a party for them at our home where the whole program came. They ate me out of house and home, but that was one of the best seasons of my life. For the good of our own souls, we need to be with broken, needy people, not to fix them, but because it reminds us of our own brokenness and neediness, driving us to the Savior.

The Identity of Jesus is Confrontational—Luke 4:28–30 When Jesus gets finished with the story the crowd is not pleased. They’re angry. So angry they form what one scholar calls a lynch mob and they try to kill him. But why? These stories seem really benign? Why are they so ticked? Well, because Jesus likens Himself to two great prophets and says that while there was great need in Israel, the only ones who got helped were these two Gentiles.  These words insult their Jewish sensibilities, because the Jews thought they had a monopoly on the favor of God. After all they had kept the law. They had gone to temple. They had memorized the law. They were the keepers of the Sabbath. So because of all their good deeds, they thought they deserved to have the Messiah to themselves. Jesus’ words cut against the grain of their moralism.    

What is moralism? Moralism is basing my identity, esteem and self worth on my own good deeds and performance and not on what Christ has done for me on the cross. Moralism says that—because I go to church, give money, serve in ministry, lead or attend a growth group—I deserve certain things. Moralism produces a spiritual entitlement of sorts where I think I’m exempt from hard times. Listen to what Tim Keller says, “If I obey, if I follow everything the Bible says, if I never miss worship, if I’m very, very good in every way, if I follow every one of the rules, then I have God where I want Him. He owes me. He has to give me a good life. He has to answer my prayers. The way you can tell you have that same hostility, the way you can tell that through your obedience you’re rebelling against God, is when He does anything in your life that shows He doesn’t feel like He owes you anything, you go through the roof.”—TIM KELLER. This is the Jews—they go through the roof. You?

I had a great friend growing up in Atlanta. This man loved the Lord and had a deep love for the Word of God. We would do Bible studies together, and serve in ministry together. He even went off to seminary. He also had a passion for music, and did quite well, so well that he was promised a contract by a top executive in California. We were roommates when I lived in LA and we talked about his dreams of making it big. But then the bottom fell out and he never got that contract. When this reality settled in, he renounced his faith, ended up divorcing his wife and years later is far from Christ. He murdered his relationship with God, because God didn’t do what he wanted him to do. Do you act like the Jews when Jesus fails to meet your expectations for life? Have you gone down the path of moralism seeking to put God in your debt? Or do you do good things because you simply love Him?

Prayer of blessing over the people…YOU ARE SENT!

[illuminating-dragons]

Just Deserts

Summary:  Right before Gabriel left Heaven, he took one peek into the future...and made a small addition to the Apocalypse blueprint. As he becomes the Trickster and the world draws closer to the end, Gabriel fights to make his plan a reality, while trying to keep from falling for anyone or anything, whether it's humanity as a whole or one particularly tall, Lucifer's-vessel-esque example of it. When the dust settles, Gabriel hasn't quite succeeded, but a little help from two unexpected sources will ensure that everyone gets their just deserts.

Sequel to The Truth That Once Was Spoken

Read it on AO3

Gabriel knew it was time to go.

The last Days of Mourning were past, the Heavenly Host was back in place and Castiel had finally learned to fly. Heaven was peaceful again, if quieter than before. If he was going to go, it had to be now.

Gabriel sighed. He wanted to stay, more than anything, but he couldn’t take it anymore. The memory of Lucifer’s angry, terrified, broken eyes as he fell, Michael’s sword lodged in his wing…the angels who’d chosen to fight beside him exploding into white light as the faithful smote them…Metatron’s smug face when the realization that his Father was actually gone for good hit Gabriel…

No. If this is what it meant to be an angel, he was done. Screw Heaven.

There was just one last thing he had to do.

Checking for Michael—he was on the other side of Heaven, excellent—he strolled casually to the Hall of Records. He just wanted one last peek at the Vessels.

He already hated them, the Righteous Man and the Boy King. Gabriel didn’t mind humans; they seemed like interesting creatures so far. But they had taken his brother away from him, devastated Heaven, and then 2,000 years from now these two were going to make it all happen again. Gabriel figured he was allowed to hate them and give the rest of humanity a pass.

The only glimpse he’d gotten was at Michael’s side, and Michael had refused to let Gabriel see them clearly. “Why are you so interested, brother?” he’d asked. “Neither of them are yours.”

Selfish bastard.

Now he was alone as he stared at the Pool. He could take one quick look, memorize their faces, and then be free to run as far away as he could from them, for as long as he could.

It was easy to call up an image. There they were, two bright souls. Brothers, motherless from their youth, fatherless in adulthood. Gabriel felt a bit of a twinge at that, but he ignored it. Of course there were parallels. That was the point.

Concentrating, he let the souls cloak themselves in mortal flesh. He was surprised by their looks. Lucifer’s vessel…Sam…was much taller than his older brother. Shaggy haired and strong, he had surprisingly gentle features. Dean, Michael’s vessel, had much sharper features, but there was still something in his green eyes that spoke of a heart, some softness, especially when he was looking at his brother.

Lucifer and Michael were going to tear these kids apart.

Gabriel shook his head. Unimportant.

Now that he was looking at them, he wondered who they were. What did they do in their day to day lives, what was it like for them in the 21st century, when they would break the Seals?

The answers came the moment he asked. Sam and Dean were hunters: they went after all the monsters Dad had left out of Purgatory, laying ghosts to rest and chopping every monster they came across to pieces. Gabriel watched as their lives whizzed by—not in detail, he wasn’t that invested (wasn’t invested at all, thank you very much)—growing more concerned by the moment. These two had only ever had each other to depend upon. Their dad was a deadbeat; he was chasing revenge for a dead woman, beating his head against a wall of misinformation and destiny, letting his sons grow up without him. They had some family; a drunk old man, a bitter woman and her rebellious daughter were the most prominent, but they didn’t trust them the same way they did each other.

These kids were not going to kill each other.

They just weren’t.

Gabriel growled. Yes, they were. They had to. If not the Apocalypse would keep getting delayed. He could handle a couple thousand years waiting for these two to be born so one of his brothers would finally die, but he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.

Maybe he could send them some kind of sign? An angelic one? That should scare them enough, right?

Unless…

Why would they be intimidated by an angel? These boys were well-versed in the supernatural, better than most humans. They were unintimidated by authority, used to staring down danger, and they didn’t seem particularly devout.

There was only one way to find out for sure. Gabriel closed his eyes and listened, searching for some mention of angels. He skipped their childhoods; he needed to warn them in adulthood, after their father died and they learned to trust their own decisions.

He found them in an ugly motel room, in some nameless little town. Gabriel leaned forward and listened carefully.

The brothers were arguing. Apparently Sam believed that the monster they were hunting was in fact an angel. Dean was of the opinion that angels were about “as real as unicorns”, and they were legends that “you file under bull crap”[1], despite his brother’s protests.

Two thoughts immediately came to mind.

The first was Gabriel the Archangel’s. That boy is going to learn some respect the hard way when Michael makes him his vessel.

The second was an entirely different perspective, one that Gabriel was finding more and more familiar, more and more interesting as he prepared to leave Heaven behind.

So you don’t believe in angels, do you Dean Winchester? Wouldn’t it be a shame if you…fell in love with one.

That was utterly ridiculous. Archangels weren’t Cupids, for Dad’s sake, they were weapons. Dean Winchester was a Vessel in waiting to him, nothing more.

But… Dean was also a man who hated himself as much as he loved his brother, who set impossible standards for himself and never believed he accomplished anything, who loved pie, his car and women…but also men. Maybe even more so than women. But he couldn’t have the former, because that was wrong. It had to be; didn’t his Dad always say so? And even if he could, he didn’t deserve to have them, because he didn’t deserve to be happy.

He was practically screaming to be proven wrong. He deserved to be proven wrong, too.

Gabriel decided two things. One, he was definitely going to explore this new view on justice when he got to earth. Two, he needed to look into the vessel family trees for the Days Garrison. One of them would rescue the Righteous Man, and what better candidate for Dean’s angel lover?

Gabriel flew over to the scrolls, skimming the lines, considering. It had to be a man, that’s for sure—so a male vessel. A few of them had potential males at the time set for the Apocalypse, and Gabriel went through them. Uriel (HELL NO), Inias (nice kid but no), Balthazar (not quite right)…

Castiel.

Castiel, the fledgling he’d raised since birth. Curious, questioning, faithful Castiel. Terrifying when angry, willing to please, devout and kind.

Perfect.  

Now there was one last thing he had to do.

Gabriel flew to Michael’s presence, poking his head around the door. This Heaven was a library, and Michael was sitting at a desk, engrossed in a scroll. Gabriel felt a quick twinge deep in his Grace; he wouldn’t be seeing Michael again for a long time. Maybe never.

Michael looked up. “What do you want, Gabriel?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Not much. Just a quick input on the whole Apocalypse thing.”

Michael sighed, wings arching in agitation. “Can we discuss this later?”

“Just one quick thing, and I’m gone,” Gabriel promised.

Michael inclined his head. “Speak then, brother.”

Gabriel winced. “You said you hadn’t decided on which angel to send after the Righteous Man, right?”

 “I have not. It must be the Days Garrison, of course, but the angel is uncertain.”

“Of course.” Gabriel refrained from displaying his annoyance—he was fairly certain his Father had picked the 'proper' Garrison out of a hat. “Why not send Castiel?”

“Castiel? Your little protégé?” Michael’s wings curved in amusement. “He has just learned to fly, and you already want to send him to Hell?”

“I think he’d be best of them,” Gabriel answered, wings rustling as he thought of Cas flying through Hell with fledgling wings. But no, Cas would be a strong warrior by then, powerful enough to save the Righteous Man and then sweep him off his feet.

Michael’s wings flattened. “As you wish. Will you tell him yourself?”

“You can tell him,” Gabriel said. “It’ll mean more coming from you.”

Michael looked at him carefully. “Are you alright, Gabriel?”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel lied. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

Michael seemed satisfied. “Get some rest, and you will feel more secure. I will send Castiel to you in the morning; you can intensify his training in preparation for his mission.”

Gabriel didn’t answer, merely bowed and left his brother. He looked down at the Earth, far below the shining clouds of Heaven.

It was time to go.  His work here was done.

Gabriel dove deep into the pagan world. He fashioned a name for himself, a job, even a vessel (eat me Michael, you can too make them). Anansi became Loki became the jack-of-all-trades Trickster, and he drowned himself in sex and violence on and off with Kali, though he always went back to laughs and just "desserts" because let’s face it, he’d always been a slave to his sweet tooth.

Still, he kept an eye on the time.

Thousands of years passed. It hurt to think that no one from Heaven had even tried to look for him, but then again he had faked his death. It was just easier that way. He could sometimes still hear chatter through the soundwaves, his siblings talking about various things, and he was relieved to hear that despite occasional battles Castiel was still alive. Finally, when he realized that the Apocalypse was only years away, he set about tracking down the Winchesters—the vessels.

And of course he found them by accident.

Loki had set up shop at a university—just killing time, serving a few people some sweet justice. He planned to go after the Winchesters shortly, as soon as he finished going through the book of urban legends he picked up at the campus bookstore.

Which, of course, was exactly when the Winchesters walked into his life and ruined everything.

That time was actually fun—they were still just kids, having the weirdest week of their lives for sure, but he was really just screwing around with them. Loki liked the older brother’s spirit and the younger one’s looks, and so he didn’t kill them. Didn’t stop him from flattening tires or repossessing a laptop (he did give it back when he was done with it), but that was practically pulling pigtails by his standards.

And therein lay the problem. Because he wasn’t supposed to care about these boys at all. Dean, yeah, because he was going to fall in love with Castiel, but that was only going to happen because he would kill his little brother. Sam was not part of this equation; he was Lucifer’s vessel. Loki could not afford to get attached.

So, naturally, the next time he encountered the Winchesters he tried to help Sam.

It’s for science, he asserted as he watched Dean Winchester’s double die over and over, Sam crumbling every time. I want to try some new ideas, he argued as Sam woke up again and again, trying to fight the invisible force that kept killing his brother. This idiot kid deserves it, he tried to tell himself as he watched Sam ‘live through’ six months without his brother.

Except Sam didn’t, it wasn’t for science, and all the new ideas were distractions from the lesson Sam really deserved to learn, because for once Gabriel was closer to the surface than Loki, and when he came face to face with the hunter it spilled out.

“The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood, and pain.”

If Sam had been in any position to understand, if he’d been less sleep-deprived, less grieving, he would have glimpsed the future in that phrase. The demon blood, Ruby, the final altered voice message (he was going to murder Zachariah for that), becoming Lucifer’s vessel…everything Gabriel had seen coming, he’d just told him. Given it away. Could have ruined the entire game.

“It’s going to be the death of you, Sam.”

Because Michael had to win to give humanity half a chance, to give Castiel a chance to be happy, so Sam had to die.

And suddenly Loki didn’t want that. Gabriel didn’t want that.

But it was too late to change anything, too late to realize that Dad damn it, he’d chosen Cassie’s boyfriend...and picked out his brother for himself.

Because Sam wasn’t Lucifer, Sam was Sam, with a too-big heart, even for his massive body, a good mind and a passionate desire to learn about the world.

He also happened to be gorgeous, which did not mean anyth—oh Hell he was dead.

Because he had to save Sam Winchester from dying and keep Dean Winchester alive for Castiel.

The things he did for the people he loved—wow, that’s it, he’s been watching too much TV.

Hmm…

Two years later he went after the Winchesters again, who had Castiel in tow this time, and wow, poor Sam, the eyesex game was strong. The TV shows were fun, but once again (this time because of Castiel—excuse him, Cas) Loki tripped up and let Gabriel take control, and in doing so exposed himself.

And got himself trapped in a ring of holy fire.

But Dean and Sam let him go, and Gabriel was once again reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. Before he’d loved Sam, before he’d loved Castiel even, he loved humanity. They were interesting, exciting, and so many of them tried to go beyond rational self-preservation in order to protect other people.

…

Falling for Sam Winchester was making a lot more sense now.

Gabriel had been willing to follow Michael, but after a bit of snooping around he found out that while Zachariah was still a mega douche, Michael had changed, becoming a lot like his henchmen. Gabriel felt sick as he realized that his brother truly didn’t care about humans anymore, and he barely cared for angels. Something was definitely wrong with Cas, but the younger angel refused to answer his call and Gabriel was left to try to find out what had happened in the little bit of time he had left.

And suddenly, there was no time at all.

Gabriel put Loki’s face on one last time for his pagan cohorts (friends was a wee bit of a stretch) and tried to get them to listen. Get out of the line of fire, he wanted to plead. I’ll fix this, I swear, just leave the Winchesters alone and run. I’ll deal with my brother.

Then he got Sam and Dean out the door with his DVD, shooed Kali along with them, and faced his brother. He made an illusion, not to stab Lucifer in the back, just to buy himself some time to try to convince Lucifer not to fight. Listen, brother, he begged. Don’t do this. I know you don’t want to.

But Lucifer was too far gone, and in one quick, agonizing move he stabbed him through the heart. He’d faked his death a hundred times but this was real, he could feel it, and he knew he’d failed.

Team Free Will were on their own, and the Apocalypse would happen.

Just like he’d wanted for so long.

Now that’s just deserts.

FloatingfallinggoldblackdarklightwhereamIwhoamI

Anansi.

No.

Loki.

No.

Trickster.          

Yes.

Brother.

Yes.

Son.

Yes.

Gabriel.

Yes!

Gabriel jerked awake and immediately wished he was still dead. He was in a deep kind of pain, the kind where you can’t even remember what relief would feel like.

Kali sat beside him. Her form was writhing and glowing, and Gabriel could feel her triumph. You are back.

Did you bring me back? He could only talk through his true form, though he could feel his vessel clothing him.

I did. Your blood. With him. Kali was never one to waste words.

Gabriel tried to turn his head, but it was too painful. Then a hand touched his forehead and he almost screamed from the shock of that presence, gone so long and completely.

Dad?

My son.

You’re—where have you been? Are you back?

Not yet.

What, the Apocalypse wasn’t a good enough reason? Gabriel struggled to turn away, but he was too weak.

I cannot return fully. Not yet. To hide myself I exist in many places, scattered across the universe.

How are you with me then?

I can stay for a moment. I may still communicate. I will do this much now.

How nice of you.

I could not stay, Gabriel. When your brother fell I realized the damage I did by giving free will to only two. I couldn’t trust myself. I left the angels with free will of their own, and went away so far that when I returned I didn’t know who I was. By the time I remembered, it was too late for me to do any good. So I left once more.

How long have I been gone?          

Years.

Castiel?

Alive, as well as the Winchesters. Both Sam and Dean are free and well, so far as they may be.

Dean isn’t free, he must be bound to Cas by now.

He is not.

WHAT?!

Gabriel, be calm.

No way! I worked on that for ages, it was set up perfectly.

There was anger in his Father’s voice now, but it wasn’t for Gabriel or Castiel. Your brother was tortured for his love of Dean Winchester, and fears his own feelings. Images come into Gabriel's mind, Cas with Zachariah, all of the false visions...

What can I do? Gabriel felt bleak.

You can go back and undo the damage done. Castiel trusts you, and Dean does as well. Go back to them and help them.

I can?

You loved your brother and gave him a chance at happiness, but ultimately did not interfere, you let free will take its course. Help them now that this is what they’ve chosen. That is what I gave you and Lucifer free will for in the first place.

I had it all along?

Yes.

I knew it!

No you didn’t.

...Dad, will you ever come back?

I will try, Gabriel, if you think it wise. I have caused much damage to my children of both kinds, and I deserve the ire so many feel. It may be best to stay away.

Take it from me. Running only works for so long. Anything’s better than being alone.

I will try to collect myself Gabriel, at least enough to speak to Castiel as well. The pain was slowly leaving Gabriel, and he felt his wings rustle back into place. He opened his eyes and looked up at his Father. He rolled his eyes.

Better stay away from the Winchesters, Pops, they’re not going to like what they see.

I did try to help them. As I said, I don’t believe I could have fixed anything. Your Sam and Castiel’s Dean did more than most beings far more powerful than them. I would have only gotten in the way.

He’s not my Sam.

No, because you died before you told him. Go tell him now.

There’s no way he lo-likes me back.

I’m omniscient, remember? You’ve done well, my son. I have no desire to punish you with false hope.

Gabriel managed to sit up all the way. He looked between Kali and his Father. You think I should go back, then?

You need to. You want to. You have to. Kali was impatient as ever. Gabriel felt a stirring of pride. That’s my girl. Even if he wasn’t in love with her anymore, he had to respect her passion.

Go and save your charge, find your love, Gabriel. I will follow behind when I can, but know it may take some time.

But you promise you will?

I promise, my son.

“Well,” Gabriel said with a crooked smile, finally able to move his tongue, “guess I’d better get going.”

Sam thought Loki (Bobby had looked up the specific wood they’d used for the stake and found out it was Loki’s weakness) was funny but a pain in the ass (his laptop still had an annoying tendency to switch to pictures of aliens if he wasn’t paying attention and it was a different laptop).

Sam hated the Trickster for making him watch Dean turn into a corpse and then back to his living-but-dead-man-walking brother, but the rational part of him understood what the Trickster was saying. He didn’t agree with it—Dean was all he had, and he was going to save him—but he understood it, and kind of appreciated the thought.

Sam didn’t know how he felt about Gabriel.

He understood the archangel’s desire to get away from the ‘family business’, but how could he leave Cas behind? He sympathized with Gabriel not wanting to kill his brothers, but were they even still his brothers? He could see the personas shimmering on top of the archangel’s Grace—two creatures that had tormented him and countless others—so why did something fall out of his heart forever when Gabriel died?

It was a mess of contradictions and confusion and pain and laughter, all shining gold, and Sam was sometimes grateful that Gabriel was gone, if only so he didn’t have to sort out what he felt.

Dean, on the other hand, had it fairly straightforward. He loved Cas, Cas loved him, and they just needed a push in the right direction. Right?

Sam loathed the fact that he was wrong about that.

When Cas had kicked him out of his room and he’d gone to join Dean, Sam was sure he’d destroyed his own brother. He tried to apologize, but Dean would have nothing of it; he just cried on Sam’s shoulder and they drank together and Sam strung together increasingly creative and befuddled curses towards their friend. He couldn’t understand why Cas had been so cruel, but that was for later. Right now he was going to take care of Dean.

And then the next morning came, and Cas wouldn’t wake up, and Dean found a hex bag with a golden feather.

And Gabriel was there.

Sam didn’t really hear what he was saying to Dean; blood was pounding in his ears as he stared at the short archangel who haunted his dreams as often as Lucifer, though in a very different way.

Then Dean drank Dream Root and fell to the floor.

Sam snapped out of it.

“Sam, put him on the bed, okay?”

Sam obeyed without question, picking up his brother and carefully laying him next to Cas. To his surprise Cas immediately snuggled into Dean, who wrapped his arms around him. There was a snap, and the bedclothes changed to a much nicer looking set, Cas and Dean tucked under soft, warm sheets.

Sam turned to Gabriel. He had a thousand questions for the archangel, and a hundred things he wanted to tell him (but did he really want to tell him everything?), but he couldn’t find the words.

Gabriel put a finger to his lips. “Let’s give the lovebirds some privacy, okay kiddo?”

Sam nodded without thinking.

Gabriel snapped his fingers again, and the world spun, resolving into a beach that stretched for miles, tropical foliage behind them.

“Where are we?”

“Not in the continental U.S.”

“…Hawaii, then?”

“You’ve always been the smart one.”

Sam put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. “What are you doing here, Gabriel? How are you here?”

“Can I answer the second question first?” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “I like mixing it up.”

“You’re really annoying, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Gabriel shrugged. “Like I said, there was enough of me in the world to bring me back. Kali gave my Father my blood, and he managed to tether me back to this vessel. As well as recreate it.”

It took a minute for Sam to process that. “Your Father? As in…”

“Yep, he’s not dead, and man are you going to be pissed when you see him.” Gabriel’s smile faltered. “Cut the guy a bit of slack though—he’d been hiding so long he forgot who he was, and once he did know he thought coming back would make it worse. I can’t exactly throw stones at that glass house.”

Come to think of it, neither could Sam.

“We both came back, though.”

“And he will too. He promised.”

Sam’s eyes went wide, but before he could start rambling about what they were going to do when capital-G God came back, and when, and how, Gabriel cut him off.

“Anyhoo, back to the first question. My reasons for return are threefold.”

“Did you just quote—”

“No, Friends quoted me. First reason was because I couldn’t actually believe that you three were still alive. Second reason was to get Cas and Dean to form a super bond and become Destiel, because Zachariah put the fear of everything in Cas years ago to keep him from falling in love with Dean…”

“What?!”

“Yeah, hence the Dream Root. Don’t worry, they’ll be fine, they’re too in love to be stupid forever.”

Sam was still trying to process this part of the story—why hadn’t Cas told him? But Gabriel still had one more reason, and now the archangel looked nervous.

“And the third?” he prompted when Gabriel didn’t speak.

“Right. Well, it’s linked to the second. Long story short, 2,000 years ago I looked ahead and saw you and your brother, and when I overheard Dean saying he didn’t believe in angels, I thought it’d be funny to make him fall in love with one. So I picked Castiel to save him from Hell, figured that would be the best love pair.”

“So you wanted to make it happen,” Sam concluded, trying to ignore the fact that Gabriel had been spying on them 2,000 years before they were born. “But that was your second reason, wasn’t it?”

Gabriel sighed. “Let me finish, kiddo. I saw your brother….and I saw you too. I saw this goofy looking kid who was going to be Lucifer’s vessel, and I saw something else at the time that I refused to notice. After all, Michael had to win if Dean and Castiel were going to have a chance together, so you were going to have to die, right? No point getting attached. But then I met you in person, saw you more clearly, and I knew you were trouble.”

Sam’s throat went tight. Boy King. Abomination. Freak.

Gabriel grabbed his hands. “Hey, no. That’s not what I meant at all. You’re not any of those things, Sam Winchester. What you were—what you are—is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Sam just stared, hands clutching at Gabriel’s, so much smaller than his yet so much stronger.

“And I fought it.” Gabriel’s voice was tight. “I fought it and I hurt you and I kept pushing you because if I could prove to myself that you weren’t good for me then I didn’t have to try to be good for you. But even when I tried as hard as I could you kept proving me wrong. You kept trying to forgive me.”

“And then you died,” Sam whispered, “and I didn’t know what to think, I just tried to do what you said…”

“And now look at you, kiddo.” Gabriel’s tone turned reverent as he raised a hand and put it over Sam’s heart. “Your soul’s still bright as ever, even after everything. I’m so proud of you, I wanted you to know that.”

Sam looked into Gabriel’s eyes. Once or twice he’d caught a glimpse of the storm behind Cas’ eyes, the bright blue pulses of power and strength and Grace. Now he was drowning in Gabriel’s gold, in pain and laughter and confusion and contradictions, and he almost laughed aloud when he realized that he knew exactly how he felt about Gabriel, because beyond all of those feelings was a deep, true need that went beyond physical and emotional and was pure recognition. You are what I’ve been waiting for.

Gabriel took a deep breath, shocked. He must have felt Sam’s surge of joy and understanding, but Sam didn’t wait to let him process it. They’d both been waiting long enough.

He kissed the archangel deeply, hauling him onto his toes and holding him as tightly as he could. Gabriel kissed him back with an intensity Sam could hardly grasp. With his eyes closed, Sam couldn’t really tell which of them was taller, which of them was made of soul and which of Grace.

He lost track of anything but Gabriel for a long time, and when he came back to himself he was on his back, Gabriel straddling him, their foreheads leaned together and Gabriel’s fingers tangled in his hair. Sam reached up and stroked the archangel’s hair out of his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered. Then he grinned. “In case you couldn’t tell.”    

“Love you too, Samshine,” Gabriel replied, rolling his eyes. He slumped down on top of Sam and Sam tucked his head under his chin, holding his angel close.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Gabriel said quietly. “I missed you.” “I missed you too,” Sam whispered.

They lay like that for a long time, listening to the waves and each other’s gentle breathing.

Gabriel propped himself on one elbow. “So our brothers are together right now…and they probably don’t want to be disturbed.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Well, we should give them some privacy, right?”

Gabriel grinned, eyes flashing gold. “Absolutely. But how on earth are we going to occupy ourselves, Sam?”

“I don’t know, got any ideas?” Sam asked, returning Gabriel’s smirk.

Gabriel leaned closer. “A few.”

“Easy there,” Sam said with a laugh. “You at least have to buy me dinner first.”

Gabriel pouted. “Dinner’s a long time from now.” Then he brightened, and snapped again. A picnic table appeared nearby with an enormous variety of fruit, two plates with stacks of pancakes and huge pitchers of milk.

“How about breakfast instead?” Gabriel asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow, letting a slow smile come onto his face. “I’m in.”

Wrapped up (quite literally) in Cas, it took Dean a couple of minutes to realize he was being watched. He sat up quickly and saw Sam leaning against the cupboard.  

Dean watched as Sam absorbed the fact that he was with Cas. First shock (which was reasonable, he’d walked in on them after all), then confusion (because Dean didn’t cuddle, even shirtless), then irritation (they were on Sam’s bed). Now his brother stood calmly, brow furrowed. Cas had moved away from Dean, but he still was still holding his hand and Dean was absolutely not grateful for that.

Sam’s expression cleared suddenly. Dean braced himself.

“Okay.”          

“Wait—what?”

“Okay, you’re with Cas. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Dean was annoyed by that (it would get worse over the next few days, but he didn’t know that). Still, it was better than Sam being angry.

Then Sam’s face went serious, and Dean’s stomach plummeted. Cas tightened his grip on his hand.

“I’ve just got one question Dean, and I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me, okay?”

Dean nodded. “Sure Sammy, anything.” What does he want to know?

Sam leaned forward, looking directly into Dean’s eyes.

“Do you believe in angels now?”

It took Cas’ full strength to hold Dean back.

Sam was howling with laughter, bent nearly double as Dean swore loudly at him. Then another laugh joined in, and Gabriel appeared next to Sam, arm curled nonchalantly around Sam’s waist.

“Now that was awesome!” Gabriel said, wiping his eyes. “Gotta hand it to you kiddo, you’ve got a sense of humour after all.”

“It was your joke,” Sam said generously. “I took my cue from the master.”

Dean finally stopped fighting Cas’ hold, relaxing back against his angel. He’s mine now. What else matters? “Well aren’t you two hilarious,” he snapped.

“Well I don’t just like him for his hair,” Gabriel smirked, pulling Sam down into a quick kiss. Dean choked, and he felt Cas start against him.

“What—really Sam, the Trickster?”

“Yes, really, Dean.” Sam was pretending to be confident, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

Dean thought about it for a minute. “I did not see that coming in a million years, but whatever floats your boat I guess.” He glared at Gabriel. “Just don’t forget you’re dating my little brother, and I know how to fry angels.”

Gabriel smiled sweetly. “Sure thing, as long as you don’t forget that you’re dating my little brother, and I can do a wondrous variety of things with a snap of my fingers.” He snapped, but all he did was put Dean and Cas’ shirts back on.

“Gabriel, don’t be ridiculous,” Cas said. He let go of Dean slowly and stood up. “You are both aware that such things won’t be necessary. I believe we have all learned the hard way about valuing each other.”

That stopped everyone’s laughter. Gabriel considered his brother, standing only a few feet away. “True words, Castiel. You always were the smartest.”

Cas tilted his head, approaching his brother carefully. “That isn’t true, and you know it. You wouldn’t have had to come back otherwise.”

Gabriel let go of Sam and stepped towards Cas, and for the first time ever Dean saw real fear in the angel’s eyes. “I came back because I wanted to make sure you were happy with your human, little bro. It wasn’t exactly a hard choice.”

“And now that you are back, will you stay?” Cas asked.

Gabriel shrugged, trying to smile. “If you want me to.”

Cas surged forward and wound his arms around Gabriel tightly, shocking the shorter man. “Of course I do,” he said, voice muffled in Gabriel’s shoulder. “Stay, brother, please…”

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Cas, and there was a weird light movement: for a moment Dean could swear he saw wings, six gold and two jet black, winding around the angels. He blinked and they were gone, but judging by the awe in Sam’s face he’d seen them too.

Cas was the first one to pull back. “Thank you, brother. For everything.”

“Anytime, Cassie.” Gabriel’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “Anytime.” He clapped his hand suddenly, clearly done with the conversation. “So, where do you three want to go? We should celebrate! I mean, Sam and I already got started…”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Spare me the details.”

“You know what?” Sam asked. “Why don’t we just go home? It’s not far.”

Dean felt the familiar jolt of happiness when Sam called the Bunker ‘home’. “I’m in.”

Gabriel stretched his arms. “Your top secret domicile? Sounds great. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, from what Sam’s told me, and we may as well do it somewhere comfy.”

Cas pulled Dean to his feet. “Come, beloved, let’s go.”

And Dean did not blush, shut up Sam.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and they were outside the motel, standing in front of the Impala. Without even discussing it, Sam got into the backseat, Gabriel sliding in next to him.

Dean held the passenger door for Cas. When he hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to sit in the back with the lovebirds?”

Cas smiled and got in. Dean walked around the car and sat down. He turned the key and Baby roared to life, rumbling under him. He turned his head and saw that Cas had his hand resting on the seat, palm up. Dean laced their fingers together.

“Both hands on the wheel!” Gabriel protested.

Dean met his eyes in the mirror. “Yeah, because you’re totally wearing a seat belt in my brother’s lap.”

“I’m an archangel!”

“And I will never let anything happen to Dean,” Cas answered his brother, squeezing Dean’s hand. “Now hush.”

And Gabriel actually shut up in favour of kissing Sam instead.

Dean smiled at Cas, rubbing his thumb over the angel’s knuckles. At some point they would have to talk about Gabriel’s return and their relationships and what they would do next, but it was astoundingly awesome to know that those were their biggest priorities right now. That for once they would be learning about people that made them happy, not monsters trying to kill them.

And looking at his angel, his eyes peaceful for the first time in years, in the mirror at his brother holding his own archangel, looking more relaxed than Dean thought he could be, and even Gabriel, who looked like he’d come home at last…well, maybe it was okay to let himself be happy for a while.

They’d all earned it, after all.

The End