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inposterumcumgaudio · 8 months

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Poedit Cut/Unused Content: A Malpractice of Doctors

Was curious if we were ever meant to know specifically what becomes of Gemma, so here's 300some entries of medical merriment. These are all under Gathering_of_Doctors. Arthur's lines are bold.

001 Hum. No receptionist.

4 - 24 (minus 23, "Gin!") is the conversation between the three Doctors about Gemma and her notes.

046 There's no other way across to the blockade controls. I'm going to have to become a test subject.

047 Ohhhh, I hope I don't regret this.

049 Let's see what I can do to this with my trusty frammistat.

This PA announcement is separate all the rest of them and refers to a cut part of the quest.

048 Attention all staff. One of our test subjects has been found unconscious. A Downer may be running loose in the facility. Please consider him armed and dangerous. Be on your guard.

049 HE'S OPENED THE STREET BLOCKADES! SHUT THE SHUTTERS! CLOSE ALL THE SHUTTERS!

049a I can't just flip the switch. I'm going to have to mangle this mechanI'm good and proper. Extract some parts, for example.

050 CODE BLUE! CODE BLUE!

052 Sorry, sir, There's no visitors to the Health at the moment. They are preparing for a convention of sorts.

053 Well, there's no point in my going in there, anyway. Not till I get a frammistat from the Department of Scientific Something Or Other.

054 Oh, for heaven's sake. Maybe there's another way in.

56 - 70 is the conversation between the woman and the Doctor when you come out of the checkpoint, where she's mad about the pie shop being quarantined.

071 Sounds like I better round up a frammistat myself, or I've got a long wait ahead of me.

071a First stop: Department of Scientific Research.

072 Well, isn't this a sparkling affair. I didn't know we even had this many doctors.

074 I hope I have enough mojo. This is the last place I want them to sniff me out.

076 Well, this should be fun. A building full of fanatics who can smell me. Naked among wolves.

78 - 104 are PA announcements. Just included the cut ones.

094 The quarantine floor is currently under quarantine. If you need access to the quarantine floor, please see Dr. Milton for a keycard.

100 Don't miss the closing party at the Deaf Institute! All attendees are invited, along with their wives. Rumour has it that the Make Believes will be performing, but you didn't hear that from me.

102 If you need your Uncle Jack fix, there is a television in the nurses' break room. If you're very nice, the nurses may even let you watch!

104 Dr. Arnold, your wallet has been found at registration. Please see Sophia Jex-Blake for its return.

106 I need to get to the quarantine floor.

108 How do I get to the elevator? I don't think I want to mingle with this crowd.

110 Oh, bugger. I'm going to have to go up into the rafters, aren't I.

112 I really, really hate heights.

114 Why is the safest route always in the ceiling? it's because God hates me, isn't it.

116 Oh, of course. The quarantine floor is under quarantine.

118 I sort of doubt Dr. Milton is going to give me a keycard. Maybe there's one in his office.

120 - 138 is Dr. Defoe's musing aloud.

Dr. Ridgwell's demonstration was originally longer and more detailed.

144 We thought that if we applied electrical stimulation to the Broca's Area, we might enable the subject to speak. Which would have proved obviously useful.

140 So that was rather disappointingly inconclusive.

142 However, our next electrode proved far more interesting.

146 We had a subject in stage 1 of the plague, just beginning to revert to Old English.

148 We even had a linguist ready to translate.

150 But we obtained a very odd result. I'll just use a bit of juice here.

152 WEANA GEHWELCNE!

154 As you can see, the patient immediately goes into the well known late stage plague frenzy.

156 Removing the stimulus returns the subject to catatonia.

158 Re-applying the stimulus again...

160 SIDRA SORGA!

162 An interesting side-effect of stimulating the brain in this manner is that the development of the plague seems to be accelerated quite a bit.

164 Although the subject was in Stage 1 at the application of the stimulus, she was in Stage 3 after only half an hour of repeated stimuli. Normally the transition takes days.

166 FROFRE NE WENAN!

168 Oh dear. I see that my subject has expired. Ah, well. That concludes my presentation. I'll be taking questions after we've all had our lunches. Enjoy!

170 Well, I'd better get going before someone notices I'm not wearing a hat.

172 Now, Dr. Hardy, where do you keep your keycards?

174 No, that's not it! It doesn't work that way.

176 I have it in my office! I'll find it and bring it to you. You just -- I'll come find you.

178 I could swear it was on my desk.

180 Well, then it must be in my desk.

182 Where is it? My filing cabinet?

184 Ohhhh, I feel so stupid. Where is it?

186 "No, those are the nuts." But what's the setup?

188 Damn it. Where did I put my book of party jokes?

190 Aha! The keycard! Off to quarantine I go! Yay.

A little jumbled at this point, but it looks like Arthur would swap places with a female plague victim, pretend to have plague himself, and participate in the Coconut experiment on purpose in order to get to the other side of the quarantine grid.

192 That's the quarantine grid!

194 ... On the other side of the thick plexiglas. I need a way to get over there.

195 Ahhh, there you are! We've been waiting for you.

196 So I have to go through the Quarantine Ward. That doesn't sound terribly jolly.

197 Just get in the nice, comfy chair, please.

198 How long until the coconut Joy takes effect?

199 There we go. Lovely.

200 Give it a few minutes. Or you could just ask her if it's a lovely day.

202 All my conversations with plague subjects are rather one-sided.

204 Why, can't you speak Old English? it's easy. Semper ubi sububi. Wellington Wells omnis divisa est in five islands. Hah hah hah hah ha.

206 Have you ever ridden it yourself?

208 I don't particularly want to see the stimuli, do you?

210 The Test Alley is the quickest way to Ward B. Otherwise you have to walk all the way downstairs, and across, and through the--

212 I'd rather not see the stimuli. Especially the final one. Whatever it is.

214 There's some sort of ... ride? To the other side? That's handy.

215 I wonder how I get on it?

216 Well, she seems ... sort of dead tired. Maybe she'd rather avoid the stimuli, too.

218 Well, then. In the interest of science, I think we'd better replace her, hadn't we? Why yes, I think we better. After you. No, after you.

220 Uh, I better hide her, first, though, right?

222 There we go. Sleep tight! When you wake up... well, you'll still have plague, I guess.

224 There we go.

226 Oh ... I hope they don't remember their subject was a woman. Should have thought of that earlier. Huh.

228 There, I hope that isn't too unpleasant. However bad the plague is, it has got to be better on Joy, hasn't it?

230 Odd. I could have sworn you were a girl.

232 You seem fairly healthy. Are you sure you've got the plague?

234 Uh ... Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote. The droghte of March hath perced to the roote

236 Well, that's all right then.

238 Now, Doctor Brooks is going to bring in a series of disturbing stimuli.

240 Hopefully with the coconut Joy I've given you, you won't be a bit bothered.

242 We won't actually see the stimuli. There's a blind between us and you, and a blind between you and the stimuli. It's what we call a "double blind experiment."

244 And, ah, Zephyrus eke with his sweete breeth, Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

246 Superb.

248 Off you go. Don't forget to write! Hah hah. That's my little joke. I know you've forgotten how to write.

250 That's a rather strong reaction. I hope the equipment is properly calibrated.

252 Oh, dear. The coconut's not terribly effective at all, is it? don't tell anyone I said that.

254 Another strong reaction. Intriguing. I almost wish I knew what the stimuli are myself! Almost.

256 I'm glad I'm not the one taking you out of the chair.

258 Quite mysterious. Most of the subjects have a very strong negative reaction to the fifth stimulus, whatever it is.

260 Did you enjoy our little fun ride? I hope so.

262 HAFELON MULTON!

264 Oh, dear. You were only supposed to be in stage 2. I hope the ride didn't progress your condition.

266 BURSTON BANLOCAN!

268a I'M DONE WITH MY EXAMINATION, DOCTOR. YOU CAN LET ME OUT NOW.

270 Oh, I'm sorry, Doctor. That would break quarantine.

272 SEONOWE ONSPRUNGON!

274 I REALLY MUST INSIST THAT YOU LET ME OUT, DOCTOR.

276 I don't have the authority to do that, Doctor.

278 THEN PLEASE GO FETCH SOMEONE WHO DOES. I'M IN HERE WITH A STAGE 3 PLAGUE PATIENT.

280 DR. KIPLING?

282 DR. KIPLING?

284 LET ME OUT NOW, PLEASE!

286 Attention all staff. A Downer with plague has escaped from the test labs! Please consider him armed and dangerous. Be on your guard!

288 - 306 is the part after the test where the Doctors can't get the button to work.

Additional notes:

Arthur may have been meant to be afraid of heights at a point?

The "ride" actually was a ride earlier on, as opposed to the metaphor that it is now.

Either there was some back and forth in dev on which Doctor actually had the keycard to the quarantine grid or - funnerer option - the quarantine grid originally required multi-user authentication to unlock and there were multiple keycards that had to be collected.

No word on Gemma, unless she was meant to be the female plague victim. Nothing saying that though so we're free to imagine a better ending for her.

#we happy few #poedit #arthur hastings #dr. harold ridgwell #cut/unused content

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crazycookiecrumbles · 2 years

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Searching For Inspiration

Masterlist

A/N: Ah, first time writing Eddie Munson. Might be OOC? I have no idea. I’m just exhausted and winging it. I kind of gave up on this near the end. Sigh, idk. my mojo is vanishing.

Special thanks to the @wint3r-h3art who helped my brain do things to make words for this

Pairings/Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Eddie being a goofy goober, swears; crack, fluff, drabble, mess? idfk

Summary: Eddie needs inspiration as the Dungeon Master, and he finds himself in your domain to find it.

Eddie Munson couldn’t fight this feeling anymore. He had hit a dry spell, so to speak, and he needed something to really get his creative juices flowing. It was going to be his final campaign at Hawkins High, the culmination of all of his years of work, and he really needed to make sure everything was to his standard of perfect. However, he just couldn’t quite figure out what was missing.

Eddie found himself at the local library in Hawkins in search of inspiration. If he couldn’t figure it out, which was insane given his own amount of creativity he harbored, then he was going to look to some of the greats.

He threw open the library doors with a loud bang, disturbing everyone and prompting the librarian to hit him with a glare and a shushing sound that made his skin crawl. He shot her a toothy smile, bowed his head apologetically, and let the doors fall to a close behind him. Eddie clasped his hands behind his back as he walked down the aisles, peering over people’s shoulders to see what they were reading.

Then, he’d stop and stand in a corner or in an aisle somewhere, one arm draped across his front, the other resting over it with his fingers on his chin as he studied people. Perhaps people could give him the inspiration he needed if he couldn’t find it in a book.

No. No, of course not. What was he thinking? They were all too ‘normal’ here, so average and boring and nothing remarkable in the slightest. This meant that there was only one thing left to do, he really, truly needed to hit the books.

He went through the aisles without a care. He picked up a book, skimmed it, deemed it to be unworthy of the power of his campaign, and would haphazardly toss it over his shoulder. Sometimes it landed on a cart of books, a nearby table, on the floor, or, rarely, it even made it back onto the shelf, just in the wrong place, backwards ,or possibly just laying open against it. He went through the aisles without any regard for the books as his main focus was the sanctity of his campaign.

This left one unfortunate library employee to happen upon his mess, but have no idea what was causing it.

You were baffled. You had just swept the aisles. Sure, a few loose ones here and there, but, otherwise, things were perfect. How, in the time it went for you to take a quick snack break, did things suddenly become so chaotic? All your hard work was falling apart within seconds, and now you were racing around the library trying to find the culprit.

You could hear humming, what had to have been a rock ballad, and the sound of pages being flipped through rapidly. You rounded the corner and found your misery. There were books on the floor, on top of the shelves. It looked like a hurricane hit. You stopped for a moment to see what was happening, and you could see a tall, young man with a curly mane of hair to make a lion envious. He was leaning on his side against a bookshelf, flipping through a few pages of Christine before chucking the book on another shelf.

It burned you.

Huffing and puffing, you picked up every book he had tossed and placed them onto your cart as you charged towards him. He was utterly oblivious as another book went sailing over the aisle, the waist of his jacket flailing out behind him as he continued to sashay down the aisle.

The only thing that truly alerted him to another presence was the sound of wheels turning rapidly and headed right in his direction. He spun around dramatically, and was immediately caught like a deer in headlights. His soft, sweet eyes illuminated and grew big as he saw you storming towards him, an enraged look on your face that he swore showed actual fire burning in your eyes. He smiled brightly as the cart screeched to a halt next to him and you stood tall in front of him, one hand on your waist, the other clutching the handle of the cart until the knuckles were screaming against your skin.

“M’lady—“

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You hissed, yelling, funny enough, in a sort of whisper as you glared at him.

“Huh?”

“Were you raised in a barn?” you cocked your head to the side. “I mean, really. Do you even know where you are?”

“Last I checked, this was the Hawkins Town Library, so — “

“Oh, good, you know something!” you whispered harshly. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Staring at a really, really pretty and angry chick,” he beamed. “You’re very pretty when you’re all angry and stuff.”

You had opened your mouth, ready to insult him no matter what he had said. However, when you heard him say you were pretty, your mouth shut and your cheeks burned hotly as his words replayed in your head a dozen times over in a matter of seconds.

Using this to his advantage, he took one large step towards you and stuck out his hand, “Eddie Munson, m’lady.”

“I know who you are,” you muttered, sticking your hand out to him. “Y/N L/N.”

He leaned forward and kissed the top of your hand before standing up straight again, the grin never leaving his face as he watched your eyes widen and you raise your other hand to rest against your cheek to feel if it was actually burning as much as you thought it was. “It is truly my pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You blinked a few times before remembering what your mission was after you caught sight of a book on the floor. You huffed and yanked your hand away to rest on your hip once again, your eyes quickly scanning the other books in disarray before pointing them at Eddie, “Why are you tossing books around the library? This is a library not some baseball field or something! The books should be treated with respect.”

He looked around and it seemed like he finally saw what exactly he had been doing this entire time. His mouth fell open slightly before it settled in a straight line, bearing all his teeth to you as he slowly turned back to face you after seeing the damage. “I’m sorry. I did not realize I did that.”

“Are you serious?”

“I was just looking for a little inspiration for my campaign. See, I run the Dungeons and Dragons club, it’s a — “

“I know what it is,” you sighed.

He beamed, “That is seriously very attractive. Anyway, I run the club. I’m the dungeon master, and I need to make my next session absolutely amazing. I’m just looking for that special something to make this side-quest episode really ,really memorable.”

“Oh, well, maybe you can make it an episode about cleaning up after themselves and respecting public property,” you quipped as you pushed the cart past him and went to clean up the rest of the books. “All good stories have a lesson in there somewhere.”

“Uh-huh,” he trailed off as he fell against the bookshelf and watched you storm away from him. He sighed dreamily, hands coming up to clutch his heart as he watched you round the corner and disappear. Suddenly, he gasped and clutched the bookshelves next to him in dramatic fashion. “I’ve got it. They’re going to save the beautiful, fiery princess who spends her entire days in books reading and writing stories in a cavern — no, a stone castle filled from floor to ceiling with treasured books. She’ll have unbridled rage and fury and be so, so, sooo hot.”

Eddie sighed happily to himself, content with his conclusion. “Yes. They’ll save her from the evil dragon — no, the evil sorcerer who wants to sacrifice her to Vecna. YES! That’s it! And she’ll be all mine and say I’m her hero and — I mean, uh…”he cleared his throat and scratched is head. “I’m not in the campaign. Right. I’m just gonna go home now…”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things campaign #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #hawkins #stranger things oneshot #eddie munson oneshot

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a-baleful-howl · 2 years

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So I’ve been following George RR Martins updates on his progress on Winds of Winter…because of course I have. His most recent update, going surprisingly more in depth than he has been lately, has caused quite a stir because he’s alluding that his ending and plot direction may have changed. And it has me in all sorts of emotions about it.

First, when the finale of GoT aired and it got a bunch of backlash, I hoped that that gave him “the best motivation I know of - spite.” Some of my best writing juices come from seeing a story done *in my opinion* badly, and I have this innate desire to correct it or make it better. I don’t know if this is what George is doing, or if just the fact that he’s taken such a long break from his story that his mind has changed, or his flow has simply taken him in a different direction. A person can change a lot in 10 years, and ideas that just live in the brain can fade away and be forgotten, sometimes to be found again or be lost forever.

When I wrote the Jonsa compendium, I added at the end that GRRM has every right and ability to change his mind now before the books are done and as he’s writing. So I’m not surprised or upset about it either. I find this to be an issue with “gardeners” or “pantsers”, but even “plotters” or “architects” can run into writers block resulting in changing directions, too.

The day after the finale, GRRM posted on his blog that (paraphrasing) “yes, this is the ending. The journey there will be slightly different, though. Afterall, how many children did Scarlet O’Hara have?” Which some fans took as him saying the ending will be different, but since Gone with the Wind is considered one of the best page to screen adaptations of all time, I took it as him saying that it’s still the same, but books have more details and time to cover small plot lines than TV shows. Details always get lost in the adaptations. (*cough secret tormented incest feelings and political Jon? cough*)

And I have to wonder, after GRRM admitted that this spin-off sequel show about Jon Snow was Kit Harrington’s idea, how much of “huh, I wonder what Jon does after the war. I never thought about that before.” has inspired George to write more, or go further down a certain path.

But this new blog post feels like, *to me*, to be much more deviation than just small details. To me it feels like even he is surprised at how much change has happened. And for all of us who have found and pointed out the subtle hints that could be leading to a Jon and Sansa endgame, what does that mean for us? If that was in fact what he was leading towards, has that changed in his mind as well? Honestly, we just have to wait and see.

Small side tangent: if I could ask GRRM any question, it would be about “curing” writers block. Not for the memes, or to kick him while he’s down, but because as a writer I would love to ask all writers this same question. (And I would hope that by answering it, it might give him that motivation to break through his own.) It appears to me that he’s got his mojo back for the moment, and that mojo after being shelved for a decade has taken ahold of him in a new headspace, in a new world, and with the hindsight of seeing it done on screen without him. There’s still one more book after WoW, so fingers crossed we see where this new plot bunny has taken him off to all the way to the end, but I know from experience that sometimes the idea of starting another massive book immediately after finishing one feels like getting pregnant again immediately after giving birth. Sometimes your brain just needs a break.

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queenmuzz · 3 years

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So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....

So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesn’t respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesn’t mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesn’t run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the man’s room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.

“What’s going on Nero?” Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. “You haven’t been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.”

Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. “It’s dad… I know you told me I need to be patient,” his face scrunches up at the word, it’s a thing he’s never been able to truly do. He’s definitely a Sparda boy. “But he just keeps ignoring me. He won’t talk, won’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesn’t want me to exist-”

“Hey now!” Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every bar’s entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? “Your dad...well, even without the stuff he’s been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.” “But that’s the thing, Uncle Dante!” Nero blurts out, close to tears. “He DOESN’T DO ANYTHING!!! He doesn’t care!” And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergil’s room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Eva’s portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Nero’s room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when he’s in an ornery mood. It’s time to talk to his dad.

Vergil, or what’s left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If he’s heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.

“Verg,” he calls out, “I know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. I’m not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, but…” Dante’s not good at this sort of thing. He’d rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now it’s with a cheery smile. “The kid needs a sign that you’re still there, you’re still fighting. I know you are, hell, you’re the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But that’s the thing, Nero’s only heard things that you’ve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwise…” Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows it’s fruitless to continue much more, “you’re gonna lose him too.” And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergil’s room, as if his brother had just moved.

Nero sits at Dante’s desk, working on his math homework. It’s his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but he’s gone out on an ‘Really quick, won’t be more than a half hour’ errand run. It’s been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad… so Nero is practically by himself.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. He’s still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when they’re really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. He’s never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. He’s disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. “FIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!” One says, before turning in Nero’s direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.

Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monster’s waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, “Impressive!” but doesn’t have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Nero’s pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.

The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.

Nero’s first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Dante’s come to save me! But what’s odd is that there’s no sound of Dante’s beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesn’t matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as he’s quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for years…

Nero

And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Nero’s ever heard.

Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldn’t say no. Besides, he’d pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but he’d forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.

So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. There’s no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.

“Alright, time to spill your guts” he yanks the blade up so that he’s at eye level with the pommel, “What the hell happened here?” Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.

“I swear to…” he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), “You’re gonna tell me what went down, or we’re gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.” “You told us to remain silent.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.” “There was an attack.” Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, “The little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.” Dante’s blood goes cold. “But then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.”

“Rudra’s still with Nero?” That’s odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, they’d disarm him first.

“Yes, they are not far, I think they’ve stopped moving.”

“Alright,” Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, “let’s go find the kid and your bro...and if he’s alright, maybe I’ll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? It’s been so long since we’ve fought, we crave batt- ”

“I said IF, and I won’t guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.”

Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, it’s turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. There’s Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil… And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, there’s a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.

Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.

#Devil May Cry #Nelo Dadgelo #Dante #Vergil #Nero #canon divergence #I didn't want to connect this to their post via reblog #because that should stand alone in its own perfection #my writing

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clotpolesonly · 3 years

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2021 Fic Year In Review

i was tagged by @rhyslahey, @inell, AND @luulapants so i guess i gotta do the thing now alkjdfg 😂

Total number of completed works: 32, which is more than i thought tbh, but it’s mostly been because of the stiles shipping central discord server’s monthly ficlet exchange, soooo thanks for keeping me going when i otherwise had no motivation whatsoever.

Total word count: once i get the ficlet i’m working on now posted, it’ll be about 53k for the year. which.....is decent, i suppose. but i fall into the trap of comparing myself to my previous self, aaaaand it’s by FAR the least i’ve written annually since i started writing fic again after high school. like, almost 1/5 of my most prolific years. trying to remind myself consistently that it’s okay and even good to have periods of rest and lowered productivity, especially under the circumstances. my brain juice will return from the war eventually probably.

Fandoms written in: Teen Wolf and Merlin, which yeah it was kind of nice to foray briefly back into the latter!! hadn’t written for Merlin in a long time.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? my expectations for the year were pretty low, i think, after last year was also an extremely unproductive year and i wasn’t feeling much better about things. so, like, i wish i’d written more, but i’m also glad that i wrote anything cuz that was not guaranteed 😬😭😅

What’s your own favorite story of the year? honestly, none of the ones i’ve written this year stand out to me very much..... scanning through the list and it’s taking me EFFORT to even remember what some of them ARE, adlfkh. i guess if i had to pick one, i might say If We Exiled Our Sins?? i originated a pairing tag, first one to write it, and that’s pretty exciting lol. i think i like that fic a lot.

Did you take any writing risks this year? besides writing that pairing ^? not really, i don’t think. everything was pretty chill, low effort and low engagement, short and easy.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? write more, get my mojo back. try and write something longer than 7k. maybe even a multichap. i miss being able to write long stories 😭

Most popular story of the year? by hits, A Kiss To Remember (Merthur). by kudos, Reach Out, In Reach (Sterek). by bookmarks and comments, Love Is Blind And So Is Stiles (Sterek). by subscriptions, Kids, They Say (Stiles & puppy pack), which surprises and amuses me.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Things I Learned In The Storm maybe??? an Erica character study thing, which i quite liked but which got very little response.

Most fun story to write: Love In The Age Of Sustainable Gardening Practices (Steter) was quite fun 😂

Most unintentionally telling story: uuuhhhh, i don’t think i projected much on any of my stories this year?? there wasn’t much substance to most of them, and 95% of them were based on prompts/requests from others, so they weren’t just things i felt compelled to put out there.

Biggest disappointment: i posted a couple of fics that were gifts for people who didn’t respond to them literally at all......so. that was fun. wonder if they read them......

Biggest surprise: talking myself into accidentally genuinely shipping Laura/Noshiko 🤣

tagging: ......i can’t think of any writers whom i haven’t seen already get tagged aldkfjghadfg rip

#fics by me

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videcoeur · 4 years

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Sorry for slow replies

Been working 50+ hours a week for the past 2-3 weeks and I have no brain juice. What little brain juice I have I gotta keep for work. Hopefully this will settle soon, but I think the reason I work so much is because the client I work for lost a writer so I’m the one pulling twice the amount of work to make deadlines : ) ) )

Which is good pay wise but uh,, i definitely need a break soon.

So, let it be known I am not ignoring any of you and I am still very much into our thread(s). I just really have no mojo left since I write words for a living and I’m all worded out when evening strike and I can finally relax.

All I’ve been doing lately is Work like 8-10 hours a day, then binge watch stuff because I can’t use my brain anymore.

#I am so sorry for the delays for real #And I miss being on here #and I miss drawing #I can't wait for this marketing rush to be over #Thank you for your patience if you're waiting on me #for either a roleplay reply #or for my commissions to reopen #You're an angel and I'm blessed #( ooc. )

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armadillodecor · 4 years

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🍒 setting intentions for your space 🌿

In the self help / spirituality / mental wellness world this word is used all the time and there’s a reason for that. You can’t begin to attain your goals if you don’t know what they are. Setting intentions is simply putting some side aside to communicate your goals to yourself clearly. These can be micro goals (my intention for today is to be gentle and gracious to myself) or macro (my intention for this year is to invest more deeply in my relationships). Sis, you can set intentions for your workout, for doing your dishes, for your creative sessions. I am working toward getting better at setting daily, weekly, monthly, yearly intentions more regularly - I like to sit down with some water, some music and my journal and really clearly communicate with myself. Because ✨ you can’t know where you want to go unless you consciously choose it ✨ the more you drill your goals into your head, the more they exist at the front of your mind and the easier it is to make moves to address them. This is science, my friends. 🌡🧬🧪 and here’s the trick: setting consistent and clear intentions is where they turn into manisfestations — because you can only speak your goals into existence and act on them consistently for so long before they 👏🏻 become 👏🏻 real 👏🏻 (but that’s for a different blog)

So how can we set intentions for our spaces?

You can make your space work for YOU by clarifying what you want the space to DO. Grab a piece of paper and list out the spaces in your home. Next to each one, write a verb that describes what you want each space to do for you. Mine look like this:

Bedroom: empower; rest

Studio: energize; creatively stimulate

Living Room: entertain; bring joy

Dining Room: create community

Kitchen: calm; cleanse; enrich

Bathroom: purify; empower

Backyard: create community; bring fun

So obviously a few of my spaces have overlapping descriptions. Also for a few, I couldn’t find the perfect verb so I cobbled together a crude description (bring fun? 😂) but simple and clear to you is more important than fancy verbs. You should be able to read your list and immediately and easily understand what you want from that space. And it’s okay if you want multiple things in a space — I want my bedroom to be a calm place for me to rest, but I also want it to make me feel sexy and powerful when I’m getting ready for my day or dressed for a date or dinner with friends! We will talk later about how to create your space to serve multiple functions.

This list is the first step in what I call ✨ spiritual decor ✨ Before you do any redecorating or soul searching, there are a few daily tricks you can start with to get the spiritual mojo flowing in your home to make this place the place that really helps you be the best version of yourself:

Use each space for its desired function! If you’re feeling like you need to wash off your crazy day and find a sense of clarity, go hop in the shower! If you feel like you need to get your creative juices flowing, relegate to your studio or workroom! I try to always journal, do my yoga and writing in my studio because sofa is for fun. Bed is for sleep (mostly😈). Obviously this isn’t a hard and fast rule, sometimes I’ll work outside in the sunshine, but the more often you do specific tasks in specific places, your brain will associate that place with that task and get you in the mood more immediately! That’s science, folks 👉🏻👩🏻‍🔬👉🏻

If the space isn’t functioning according to its intention, do a quick organize! The worst thing you can do is eat pizza 🍕 or dump your laundry 🧺 on your bed, or take off your muddy stinky clothes and leave them on the floor of your bathroom! (And trust me, these are lessons I had to drill into my brain) Help your spaces function the way you want to by not cluttering them with items meant for other spaces!

When you move to a specific space for a specific task, remind yourself of your intention. This is cheesy as hell, but it does help to speak your space intentions to yourself. Sometimes I will hop in the shower and say out loud, “I want to purify myself from the day I’ve had” and YALL. That shower becomes SO. SENSUAL. I can tell you.

The thing is we all already have intentions for our spaces — we go to specific rooms for specific things. We just don’t a. always have them named clearly in our minds and b. don’t always have them connected to the spiritual functions our homes serve. But if you can ~name~ them, it will become a lot easier for you to use your home not only for practical functions, but to fill your spiritual cup. 💫

In later blogs, we will start to look at how you can fill and decorate your homes to fulfill these intentions, but it’s not about stuff. You can do it right now with what you have. I challenge to you sit down for fifteen minutes this week and create your own list of intentions for your spaces. And follow my list of daily tricks to start to change how you feel about and operate within your home. I’ll be back soon to continue to share my secret treasure trove of advice ✨

All my love!

Dayna 🍒

#spirituality #spiritual #spiritual journey #intentions #manifestations #interior design #interior decor #homedesign #home organization #self help #mental health #inner wellness

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delta-for-change · 4 years

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Study Snack-Ideas :)

It can be really difficult to study and remain productive if you’re hungry. Thus, I’ve made this list of yum ideas for when I’m feeling lazy, don’t want to have a full meal, but feeling low-energy and want a snack while working hard. I like to mindlessly snack while I’m studying as well, so most of these are grab-n-go. More importantly, these are foods I like and keep me energized. I try to avoid carbs and fats while studying, preferring high-protein instead. I’m only including things you can chew in this list, but don’t forget that there are tons of drink options to pair with all delicious snacks: water, coffee, tea, smoothies, juice, etc. Try things out! Remember that this is what works for me and by no means may work for you. I hope some of these are more unique and something you’d like to try. Everyone deserves to eat.

✔ Chickpeas Canned chickpeas. Salt and pepper, maybe a little spice. Put them in a pan and fry them up. You may have to use oil or a 0kcal spray to not let them stick (I just put a little bit of water and it works out fine though). A whole cup (240g) of these suckers are 286kcals, and I can snack on these for over an hr w/out actually finishing the whole thing (if this sounds like a lot of calories to you, give yourself a “portion size” and don’t be scared to come back for more. That amount of calories for a WHOLE can is insane! Go for it). More importantly, this is a low-fat (2.7g) and high protein (a whopping 11.9g) snack. Definitely one of my favorites. ✔ Boiled Eggs I hard-boil my eggs in advance so I can just grab one and go. Roughly 72kcals per egg depending on size. It’s abt 7g protein for one. Everyone knows this one, but I love hard-boiled eggs so much. if you’re extra tired, put a little bit of salt on top - sodium intake is important! ✔ Canned Tuna If you’re actually feeling a bit hungry but don’t want to stop your productive mojo, Tuna is your go-to. A whole can of tuna is ~200kcals each w a crazy amount of protein (~40g). Personally, this is when I make my mini tuna salad, but if you don’t want it a little higher in kcals, having just the canned tuna is fine too. ✔ Beef Jerky Calories are going to depend on the brand, but most servings are ~80kcals. Not to mention that almost all jerky is very low carbs, really high in protein, and easy to snack on. ✔ Edamame I buy these really cheap, frozen, pre-pealed edamame beans at my local grocery store, throw them in a pan for 10min, and boom: snack. Roughly 100kcals for 85g. If you have more time, they taste better in the oven. Put down some aluminum foil, salt, pepper, a tad bit of cinnamon and cayenne, and some lemon juice. Heat 350º and wait 10-20min or until you see they’ve slightly crinkled up (they should still be green unless you really covered them in seasonings). Lots of stores also pre-package roasted edamame if that’s more your style. Plain is fine too! ✔ “Popcorn” I don’t actually like popcorn, but I love rice cakes. What I like to do instead is gently mash up two rice cakes (70kcals) to desired crunch-size inside a plastic baggie. If you do like popcorn though, go for it - I’ve heard it helps some people focus and it’s also low in calorie. ✔ Brussel Sprouts This may not be for everyone, but the German in me loves these little suckers so much. Same process as the Edamame and Chickpeas. 170g/1 cup is about <40kcals. 3g protein. Brussel Sprouts taste so much better seasoned and buttered in my opinion, but they taste fine plain as well. I rarely have these when I’m studying, but if I’m really hungry and need to keep going, these taste feel like they have more substance since they’re so thick. However, they’re gassy and can cause bloating, so if you have IBS or gut issues, this is something to be weary about. ✔ Yoghurt Last but certainly not least, yoghurt. I purchase plain, greek yoghurt and average to 75kcals per 140g. This packs a lot of protein (over 13g) and fills me up. I like to add some fruit or even granola on the side. While not exactly a “snack,” this is probably my favorite since it takes me long time to eat (especially if you add especially sweet fruits like raspberries), gives me so much energy, and makes me feel good. I definitely feel ‘aesthetically pleasing’ while eating this and it tends to make me feel ‘light.’ Yoghurt for the win.

Other good, simple snacks I like:

✔ Carrot sticks / Celery sticks / etc ✔ Nuts ✔ Veggie stix/straws ✔ Fruit ✔ Trail Mix ✔ Dry Cereal ✔ Apple Slices ✔ Sunflower Seeds ✔ Seaweed Snacks ✔ Fruit Chips ✔ Protein Bars ✔ Applesauce

Don’t forget - your brain burns calories too! It can be so much more difficult to get high marks if you’re not properly fed. All calorie counts I’ve included are the brands I use - yours may be different! Lastly, I’m by no means a medical professional or nutritionist- this is just what I know and what has worked for me (which could totally change any day!). And feel free to tell me if I’m wrong about anything, have any questions, or if there are ways I can ‘improve’ my diet. If you’d like to add anything, please do so! Happy eating.

Blessings, Enoch

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amirosebooks · 5 years

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Dean’s Old Yeller Principle

“He made me so mad at first that I wanted to kill him. Then, later, when I had to kill him, it was like having to shoot some of my own folks. That’s how much I’d come to think of the big yeller dog.”

— Fred Gipson, Old Yeller, Chapter 1 (Published in 1942)

When I was twelve or thirteen my English teacher passed out copies of Old Yeller as assigned reading. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the book, the quote above from the opening chapter tells you most everything you need to know for the context of this meta post. And for those of us who are still emotionally scarred from the damned book, I’m sorry for dredging up those memories.

Now, before I go any further, a disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, this meta and interpretation of canon is my own. I’m not trying to “preach” to anyone about why Dean “is allowed” to be an asshole while he’s grieving or going through some shit. Or any other argument that consistently gets thrown back in the face of meta posts like this whenever Dean is being an emotional dick. You’re entitled to your interpretations, feelings and reactions, as am I. I’m merely offering this meta to 1) get it out of my mind 2) point and wave about the nods to this classic book that’s traumatized generations of American children 3) cheer Dean on for turning yet another teaching from the “older, wiser generation” John came from on its head.

Groovy? Okay, now we can move on.

I’m gonna throw the rest of this under the cut for length and to keep people who are sensitive to pets / animals dying in really sad ways from having their days ruined by talking more about the book unless they’re good with having that happen.

Now, as I said in my disclaimer bit, Old Yeller is largely considered classic literature here in the states. My memories of it are a weird mix of vague on the details and strong on the emotions it evoked. From what I remember, the main character was a young teenager when his family brought home Yeller. For whatever reason, our main character hated this dog. I don’t remember the details and they’re honestly not important to this meta. The hate he felt toward the dog is important. So is the fact that the hate slowly turned into love and devotion to the dog. Which made it even more gutting when, on a hunting trip (if I remember correctly) Yeller was bitten by a rabid animal and contracted rabies.

At the end of the novel, the Coates family are once again attacked by a wild animal, a wolf, and saved by Yeller’s bravery. Yeller is bit during the attack and becomes infected with rabies. Travis knows that despite his connection to Yeller and Yeller’s protection of his family, the dog must be killed before it becomes fully rabid and does any harm to him and his family. As the man of the house while his father is gone, Travis takes it upon himself to put Yeller out of his misery with his hunting rifle. Travis is heartbroken by what he has done, but knows that it was the right thing to do for his family. (From here.)

Sound familiar? Good. That’s what I thought too when we got the shot above in the graveyard in 14x20.

[Obviously, rabies, once there are symptoms like Yeller had, is incurrable, so putting him down was literally the only option. And we are talking here about Supernatural, which operates on soap opera rules so anything goes, but let’s just roll with the similarities for the sake of argument.]

I remember telling my husband while we were watching it “Dude, they’re really going to Old Yeller Jack, omg.” (I even made fanart of the moment.)

And then, something incredible happened.

Dean threw out the script yet again and set off season 15 with the dull thud of a gun being tossed into the grass.

Now, I hear you. “That’s great, Ami. Why should we care?”

Lemme tell you a thing, friend.

In order to tell you thing thing, I want to take a trip way back to season 4. Back when the brothers were still nose deep into John Winchester’s gospel of Monster = Evil = Kill The Thing.

(Screencaps are all from Home of the Nutty.)

4x21 - When the Levee Breaks

Sam: Stop bossing me around, Dean. Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother. Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me.

Dean: No. You don’t know what you’re doing, Sam.

Sam: Yes, I do.

Dean: Then that’s worse.

Sam: Why? Look, I’m telling you-

Dean: Because it’s not something that you’re doing, it’s what you are! It means- Dean cuts himself off.

Sam: What? No. Say it. (Sam has tears in his eyes.)

Dean: It means you’re a monster. (Transcript from here.)

I remember the first time I watched the show and I got to this episode. That fucking line was such a gut punching moment. And it was such an effective and emotional moment that Ruby was able to extend it later to further manipulate Sam.

Now, the screencap I grabbed for this moment is of Dean in tears (well, that single man tear he’s known for) after labelling Sam a monster for a reason. I want to remind all of us of just how much it killed Dean to have to use that label for Sam. To have to try to rationalize that the boy he raised, his brother, the guy who has been there forever and has always been Dean’s charge to take care of is now the thing that Dean is going to have to put down because he falls under the label of monster.

You know what, let’s go back a little farther, to the first episode of season 2. To this moment:

Remember this look? The one we later learned was thanks to John telling Dean that Dean was going to need to put Sam down? That Sam was going to become a monster? Yeah, ouch.

I added the year Old Yeller was published (1942) to the quote at the top of this meta to help give some context about the time it was written and the world it was released into. I’d also like to make note that in 1957 (or about a year before Henry Winchester jumped forward in time to meet the brothers in season 8 and give them keys to the bunker and had to choose to abandon John when John was still a fairly young boy) Disney released a movie version of the book. It’s absolutely, if the movie exists in the SPN world, the kind of thing young John would have watched and taken some kind of black and white moral guidance from.

It’s the kind of book/movie that John would have probably (note, this is where we start diving into my own headcanons for a moment) made sure the boys were aware of when he started thinking about bringing them on hunts to keep them from freezing because the “person” on the other end of their shotgun is someone’s mom. I could see it being the kind of thing he’d use as a way to show them both that, yes, shit is hard but you have to do the right thing and sometimes that means killing the thing you love. At least, I could picture him thinking that way. (Also, this still makes me wonder about exactly how early John started suspecting there was something different about Sam, but that’s a whoooole other post.)

Moving on and forward to season 6.

6x20 - The Man Who Would Be King

Castiel: The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house – he got a few things wrong.

Dean: Well, it’s too bad we got to angel-proof in the first place, isn’t it? Why are you here?

Castiel: I want you to understand.

Dean: Oh, believe me, I get it. Blah, blah, Raphael, right?

Castiel: I’m doing this for you, Dean. I’m doing this because of you.

Dean: Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

Castiel: You’re the one who taught me that freedom and free will –

Dean: You’re a freakin’ child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn’t mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Castiel: I know what I’m doing, Dean.

Dean: I’m not gonna logic you, okay? I’m saying don’t… Just ‘cause. I’m asking you not to. That’s it.

Castiel: I don’t understand.

Dean: Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family – that you are like a brother to me. So, if I’m asking you not to do something… You got to trust me, man.

Castiel: Or what?

Dean: Or I’ll have to do what I have to do to stop you.

Castiel: You can’t, Dean. You’re just a man. I’m an angel.

Dean: I don’t know. I’ve taken some pretty big fish. (Transcript from here.)

This was after two seasons of Cas fighting by their side. Two seasons of Cas giving heaven the middle finger on behalf of the Winchesters. It was enough time for Dean’s first reaction in a time of confusion on a hunt was to call Cas for help. And it was enough time for Dean to go from assuming Cas was a demon summoned with “bad mojo” to drag him out of hell on behalf of Sam to genuinely starting to care about Cas.

Dean did threaten to take Cas out here if he persisted down the path he was on, but you can tell by the rest of the conversation and just how hard it was to convince Dean that Cas was lying to them that Dean was hoping talking would work and he wouldn’t be forced to put Cas down.

Unfortunately…

6x22 - The Man Who Knew Too Much

Castiel: You doubted me, fought against me, but I was right all along.

Dean: Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry. Now let’s just defuse you, okay?

Castiel: What do you mean?

Dean: You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe. So, before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.

Castiel: Oh no, they belong with me.

Dean: No, Cas, it’s it-it’s scrambling your brain.

Castiel: No, I’m not finished yet. Raphael had many followers, and I must punish them all severely.

Dean: Listen to me. Listen, I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you… Please. I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too. You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all.

Castiel: You’re just saying that because I won. Because you’re afraid. (Behind him, Sam picks up the angel killing sword.) You’re not my family, Dean. I have no family. (Sam stabs Castiel in the back with the angel killing sword. Sam groans. Nothing happens. Castiel pulls the sword out. There’s no blood on it. He puts it down.) I’m glad you made it, Sam. But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore. I’m your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you. (Transcript from here.)

Again, Dean tried to argue with the overpowered angel, he tried bargaining, pleading, and appealing to Cas’s fondness for them, but it didn’t work. Sam was the one who was forced to try stabbing Cas and it… also didn’t work.

7x01 - Meet the New Boss

Sam: Dean, look, I know you think that Cas is gone –

Dean: It’s 'cause he is.

Sam: He’s not! He’s in there somewhere, Dean. I know it.

Dean: No, you don’t.

Sam: No, I don’t. But, look, I was pretty far gone sometimes myself, and never gave up on me.

Dean: Yeah, and it turns out that you’re about the Same open book as you’ve always been. Hallucinations? Really? I got to find out from Death?

Sam: What was I supposed to do?

Dean: How about not lie? How about tell me that you’ve got crazy crap climbing those walls?

Sam: Why? You can’t help. You got a lot of pretty severe crap swinging your way lately, and – and I thought –what? I thought why burst the one good bubble you had left? It’s under control.

Dean: What? What, exactly, is under control?

Sam: I know what’s real and what’s not.

Dean: Sam –

Sam: Dean, look, we can debate this once we deal with Cas.

Dean: Yeah, you know how I’m gonna deal? I’m gonna stuff my piehole, I’m gonna drink, and I’m gonna watch some Asian cartoon p**n and act like the world’s about to explode because it is. Hey. You got to be kidding me. “Massacre at the campaign office of an incumbent Senator by a trench-coated man.” There’s security footage. Well, I think reaching Cas is, uh… out of the cards. (Transcript from here. And hopefully my slight censoring the last paragraph keeps tumblr from blacklisting this post into the aether…)

Here’s a sad thought for you, how often do you think–while Cas was terrorizing the country as Godstiel and, later, after he walked into the lake and exploded into Leviathan goo–Dean thought about how he should have listened to Bobby and Sam and taken Cas out before he had the chance to swallow the Leviathans and become super powered? Probably a lot, I’d guess.

This moment, as much as I, personally, hate seasons 6 and 7, went pretty damn far to reinforce this Old Yeller principle in Dean’s moral code.

He had to sit back and watch, literally, while someone he cared about went out of their goddamn mind with power while killing and terrorizing people. He had to do that knowing that there was a moment when he could have done something to prevent it. He could have killed Cas when he had him locked up in the ring of holy fire and they were having one of their many breakup moments.

Dean felt like he could have stopped all of this, but he’d been weak and tried talking it out first instead. And you can’t convince me that he didn’t check the news and every drop of blood Godstiel brought about to the blood on his own hands because of that choice to give Cas a chance to see reason.

10x09 - The Things We Left Behind

CASTIEL: How are you, Dean?

DEAN: Fine. [Cas gives him a look.] I’m great!

CASTIEL: No, you’re not.

DEAN: Yeah, well, I lost the black eyes, so that’s a plus. But I still have this. [Dean reaches over and gently slaps the Mark on his arm.]

CASTIEL: Is the Mark of Cain still affecting you?

[Dean flashes back to his dream from earlier, of the blood covering him, the dead bodies lying around him.]

CASTIEL: Dean?

[Dean blinks hard, coming back to the present.]

DEAN: Cas, I need you to promise me something.

CASTIEL: Of course.

DEAN: If I do go dark side, you got to take me out.

CASTIEL: What do you mean?

DEAN: Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever. And don’t let Sam get in the way, because he’ll try. I can’t go down that road again, man. I can’t be that thing again.

(Transcript from here.)

I may hate seasons 6 and 7, but holy damn do I love season 10. I know it’s not a favorite among many people in the fandom, but it’s one of mine.

This moment, this burger date of sadness and pain, is a big favorite for me. Dean sees the writing on the wall. He’s been a Knight of Hell now. He’s been as darkside as he can get. He’s, likely, being reminded daily of his time in Hell in the last ten years of his stay there where he was torturing souls. And he’s begging Cas to keep him from returning to that place. He’s begging Cas to adopt the Old Yeller principle because he sees it as the only option left if the mark consumed him again. And that kills me.

Let’s take another jump forward to season 13, where Dabb & Co really started putting Dean’s Old Yeller principle into text in a heavy, purposeful way.

13x02 - The Rising Son

SAM Dean, wait a second. (Sighs) The kid came through for us today. Jack saved us.

DEAN No. No, whatever that was, that was a reflex. It was a sneeze. Maybe next time he sneezes, he kills us. Good night.

[DEAN hears a clacking sound coming from a distance. He follows the noise to JACK’s room.] JACK Ah!

[DEAN finds JACK trying to stab himself with a blade. The wounds immediately heal.]

DEAN Okay. What the hell? (he gets in the room) Give me that. You—Don’t be an idiot. Look, A, this is not gonna do anything to you, okay? And B, you… What the hell?

JACK Exactly. What the hell am I? I can’t control… whatever this is. I will hurt someone.

DEAN You know, my brother thinks you can be saved.

JACK You don’t believe that.

DEAN No, I don’t.

JACK So… if you’re right?

DEAN If I’m right… and it comes to killing you… I’ll be the one to do it.

[DEAN leaves.]

(Transcript from here.)

Can I just bask in the glory of the grieving widow!Dean arc from the beginning of 13 for a moment? I’d also like to take a moment to 🙌 Jack for being a wonderful Team Free Will mirror (and mimic) from the word go.

Ahhh…

Okay, moving on.

I loved this bit in 13x02 so much. Partially because it’s such a heavy handed foreshadow to 14x20, but also because it shows so clearly how good Jack is at reading the emotions in the room. He’s, like, three days old at that point, but he’s already having an existential crisis about whether or not he’s evil. He already understands (yes, thanks to jackass grieving widow!Dean…) the whole Monster = Evil = Kill The Thing.

He also shows that he understands the Old Yeller principle. And, for better or worse, he and Dean reach an unspoken agreement here about it. (Again, this is my reading. Your mileage may vary.)

13x04 - The Big Empty

JACK I’m afraid.

MIA/KELLY Why? Why are you afraid?

JACK Sam thinks you were right, that—that I’m good. He wants me to believe it, and I wanna believe it, too. It’s just, I… I’ve hurt people. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. And I know I should feel bad, and I say I feel bad, but most of the time, I mostly… I don’t feel anything. And that’s why I think maybe… Maybe I’m a monster.

MIA/KELLY Jack. It doesn’t matter what you are. It matters what you do. And even monsters can do good in this world.

JACK You really believe that?

MIA/KELLY I have to. I have to.

[MIA hugs JACK again.]

(Trancript from here.)

Killing me would be kinder than subjecting me to these feelings so soon after being introduced to this fucking character. Omg. Poor Jack.

Now, yes, a huuuuge part of Jack’s opinion of monsters and the whole “What do we do with monsters children? That’s RIGHT, we kill them.” thing is because Dean is an asshole when he’s emotional and grieving and deep into survival mode.

But, that doesn’t change the fact that Jack is still worried about the fact that he doesn’t feel things the way that everyone else seems to. That he has powers no one, including him, can understand. And that he’s killed people without meaning to. He’s afraid of himself just like Dean was afraid of what he was capable of if the mark took him over again.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

(Sam continues down the hallway while Dean turns to another hallway and approaches his bedroom door. He stops as if to listen to something and then continues down the hall, away from his bedroom door. He enters Jack’s room, where Jack is sleeping and talking in his sleep)

JACK Stop! No!

DEAN Jack? (Dean touches Jack’s shoulder to wake him) Hey. (Jack jumps up, anxious and disoriented. Dean holds out his hand towards Jack to calm him) Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. You’re just having a bad dream.

JACK (breathing heavily) Sorry.

DEAN It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I have 'em, too. All the time.

JACK You do?

DEAN Sure.

JACK You, um… What do you see?

DEAN Well, depends. Mostly…mostly people I couldn’t save.

JACK Me, too. Over there in the other world, I said I’d protect those people. But…I saw so many of them die. And…I tried to save them. I…I tried, but… I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough.

DEAN Jack… (Dean sits on the edge of Jack’s bed) it’s not about being strong. I mean… Look, I don’t know what you saw over there, and I don’t know what you went through. I know it was bad. But I also know that you came out the other side because you are strong. But even when we’re strong, man, things are gonna happen. We’re gonna make mistakes. Nobody’s perfect. Right? But we can get better. Every day, we can get better. So whatever you’re dealing with, you know, whatever…whatever comes at us, we’ll figure out a way to deal with it, together. You’re family, kid, and we look after our own.

(Transcript from here.)

It’s not about being strong. IT’S NOT ABOUT BEING STRONG.

This is where we veer away from Old Yeller a tiny bit because, again, in the book Yeller had rabies which they could do nothing about.

The moments I’ve highlighted in this post all come back to one motivation. The overpowered person/angel/asshole in question was trying to gain enough strength through supernatural (lol) means in order to have the power to destroy a (perceived) bigger threat than whatever the cost was to get that power.

Sam’s demon blood drinking was supposed to give him the power to destroy Lucifer and get revenge for Mary and John and their lost childhood. It went badly and earned Sam the label of monster and falling, at least temporarily, into the territory of the Old Yeller principle.

Cas started lying to the brothers and working with Crowley so they could gain the power to stop heaven from starting yet another apaocalypse. Cas wanted to keep the Winchesters (Dean) safe from being destroyed in a holy war after being forced to fight his brother to the death. Again, this did not go well and lead to Cas succumbing to the Leviathans’s power and dying front of Dean after losing the Winchester’s trust.

Dean took on the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, the evil that made John grow up without a father. It left him torn between going on a, essentially, soulless killing spree or becoming a Knight of Hell… again.

Hell, even the way Jack came into the world was fraught with Sam lying to Dean about working with the BMoL to have the power and strength to defeat Lucifer/the nephilim. Not to mention the months of lying Cas did after he decided that Jack’s power and strength was the only way they could destroy Lucifer once and for all. Again, this ended with Cas dying in front of Dean and the BMoL trying to exterminate everyone including the American hunters.

That’s the lesson Dean is trying to instill (hypocritically, let’s be honest) to Jack here. Strength and power come at a terrible cost and if you can solve a problem without resorting to that level of fuckery that things will be better.

And, also, that if things do go bad, that Jack is family and “we look after our own.” To Dean, this is where the Old Yeller principle kicks in. It is, in a rather fucked up but well earned way, the best option he knows for making sure another one of his loved ones doesn’t fall under that monster label. That none of them end up with more blood on their hands or bringing about the end of the world, again, because of their soap opera problems.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

JACK I’m sorry.

(Jack walks towards the exit and Castiel goes to follow him)

CASTIEL Jack!

(Dean grabs Castiel’s arm)

DEAN No, hey, just – just let him go.

(Jack is walking through the woods, banging a closed fist into his hand and punching his shoulder)

JACK You keep hurting people! You keep… (Jack flashes back to all the people he has hurt with his powers – Nate, Sam, Dean, the female police officer) hurting… (flash to the male sheriff) (yelling) Why do you keep hurting people?!

(Transcript from here.)

This lesson, the lesson of power and strength not being the best answer because of the cost it comes with is not an easy one to learn. Especially when you were born as a superpowered, emotional Winchester by adoption. Life is scary when that’s the hand you’ve been dealt and using the power you have is an appealing balm to combat that fear.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

JACK (moving towards Lucifer, eyes glowing and hand outstretched)Tell me the truth!

(Lucifer’s eyes start to glow, his head tilts to the side and he starts speaking)

LUCIFER She saw me when I was scouting out the bunker. She saw me and she screamed, and then…so I crushed her skull with my bare hands. And it was warm and wet, and I liked it.

(Lucifer’s eyes return to normal and he looks confused)

JACK You’re not my father. You’re a monster.

LUCIFER (yelling) Come on, man! (Lucifer bellows so forcibly that Sam and Dean cover their ears, his eyes glowing red) Okay. I tried with you. I really tried with you.

JACK Everything you told me was a lie.

LUCIFER Because I told you what you wanted to hear, man. So what?! I killed the girl! Big deal! She’s a – she’s a human! She doesn’t matter!

JACK So am I!

LUCIFER Yeah? And that’s your problem. (pointing at Jack) You’re too much like your mother.

(Transcript from here.)

To me, this moment reads as Jack embracing that black and white Winchester thinking. He has yet (even now that’s he’s currently dead in season 15) to grasp the concept of people being morally gray. He sees himself as either embracing the monster side of himself from his bio dad or rejecting that side of himself to embrace Kelly’s human side. The side that can’t hurt people on accident. The side that makes him more like the Winchesters. Because he doesn’t want to fall under than monster label. He doesn’t want to fall under that Old Yeller principle. He doesn’t want to hurt so many people that he will have to die because neither he or anyone else can control him.

Yes, this moment is FAR more complicated than just that, but it’s definitely part of it.

14x10 - Nihilism

DEAN Sam said that one of your reapers really came through with the assist. I’m thinking that was probably you.

BILLIE Don’t tell anyone.

DEAN You broke the rules.

BILLIE I took a calculated risk. I warned you about the dangers of jumping from world to world. But you ignored me, didn’t you?

DEAN Rescuing Mom and Jack, helping out those other folks – I’d say it was worth it.

BILLIE And just look at you now. Do you remember visiting my reading room? The shelves and shelves of notebooks describing the ways you might die?

DEAN Yeah. Upbeat classics.

BILLIE Well, it’s the funniest thing, but they’ve all been rewritten. They all end the same way now – with the archangel Michael escaping your mind and using you as his vessel to burn down this world.

DEAN All of them?

BILLIE All of them. Except one.

(Billie hands Dean a book. He opens it and then looks at her, stunned)

DEAN What am I supposed to do with this?

BILLIE That’s up to you.

(Dean looks at the book again and when he looks up, Billie is gone. He looks back at the book and then looks around, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face)

(Transcript from here.)

Remember what I said about Dean being well aware of the price that has to be paid in exchange for the power and strength to defeat supposedly unbeatable enemies?

Yeah… Dean “knows” that the time has come for him to call his own bluff. The one from all the way back in 10x09 (not that he was bluffing then, but he didn’t have to take action on it then) when he asked Cas to take him out. “Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever.”

We didn’t know that was what this moment was until the next episode. But this is the moment when the Old Yeller principle went into effect again. And you can see how much it hurts Dean, how resigned and heartbroken he is over it.

14x11 - Damaged Goods

DEAN It’s a Ma’lak box. [DEAN closes the door to the box. He and SAM are standing over it.] Secured and warded. Once inside… nothing gets out, not even an archangel. Especially an archangel.

SAM Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve – I’ve read about these, but – but no one’s ever – they’re impossible to build.

DEAN Yeah, well, not so much.

SAM That’s your plan? You want to be buried alive?

DEAN Buried’s not safe enough. Plan is, pay a little hush money, charter a boat to take me out to the Pacific. Splash.

SAM You and Michael, trapped together – for eternity?

DEAN Yeah.

SAM You do realize how insane this is, right?

DEAN It’s the only sane play I’ve got. Michael gets out, that’s it for this world. And he will get out.

SAM Well, how do you know that for sure?

DEAN Because I do. Because I can feel him in my head. That door is giving. I can feel it giving.

SAM But there has to be another way.

DEAN There’s not, okay? There – Sam you’ve tried. Cas has tried. Jack… And I love you for trying. But none of it’s gonna work.

SAM We don’t know that.

DEAN Yeah, we do.

SAM What?

DEAN Billie.

SAM Billie?

DEAN She paid me a little visit. She said that there’s only one way this ends right. And this is it. This, right here, this box. So, she gave up the special recipe, and all I had to do was the work. It’s fate.

SAM Since when do we believe in fate?

DEAN Now, Sam. Since now.

(Transcript from here.)

Here is the moment. The one where Dean was at his absolute lowest. When he hit that point where resignation about his fate met having to act on his principles.

14x12 - Prophet and Loss

DEAN Well, I will call this a win. Kinda nice. Going out on a high. SAM “Going out” being the operative phrase. DEAN Sorry. SAM “Sorry.” How sorry are you? Sorry that you fight to keep Donatello alive, but when it comes to you, you just throw in the towel? Or are you sorry that, after all these years, our entire lives, a-after I’ve looked up to you, after I’ve learned from you, I-I-I’ve copied you, I followed you to Hell and back… are you sorry that all of that it – it – it means nothing now? DEAN Who’s saying that? SAM You are, when you tell me I have to kill you. When you’re telling me that I have to just throw away everything we stand for, throw away faith, throw away family. We’re the guys who saved the world. We don’t just check out of it! [SAM pushes DEAN.] DEAN Sam, I have tried everything. Everything! I got one card left to play and I have to play it. SAM You have one card today! But we’ll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow! You tell me, uh, you don’t know what else to do. I don’t either, Dean. Not yet. But what you’re doing now, i-it’s – it’s wrong! It’s quitting! I mean, l-look what just happened. Donatello never quit fighting. So we could help him because he never gave up. [SAM moves closer to DEAN.] I believe in us, Dean. [DEAN doesn’t say anything. SAM gets angry and punches DEAN in the face.] I believe in us. [SAM tries to punch DEAN again, but he stops him.] DEAN Hey, hey, hey, hey! [SAM hugs DEAN.] SAM Why don’t you believe in us, too? DEAN Okay, Sam. Let’s go home. SAM What? [SAM pulls away from the hug.] DEAN Let’s go home. Maybe Billie’s wrong. Maybe. But I do believe in us.

(Transcript from here.)

And just like Dean predicted in 10x09, Sam was able to talk him out of sacrificing himself. How was he able to do that? By reminding Dean that they were the fucking Winchesters. They fucked with the cosmic balance constantly and always, always found another way. A way to avoid the Old Yeller principle. A way to live and fight again.

Which, they totally did, but the price of not throwing Dean into the ocean for an eternity of alone time with alt!Michael banging away in his head was their adopted child.

14x20 - Moriah

JACK: You’re not gonna lock me up again, are you?

DEAN: No.

(Dean raises the gun, aims at Jack and exhales deeply. Jack kneels down and bows his head. Dean, looking puzzled, lowers the gun and walks closer towards Jack. When he’s right in front of Jack, he aims the gun directly at his head. At this moment Sam comes speeding into the cemetery, car tires screeching. He gets out of the car and starts running towards Dean and Jack)

SAM: Dean? Dean!

JACK: (to Dean) I understand.

(Sam is still running, yelling for Dean. The music is getting more suspenseful as Dean holds his aim steady at Jack)

SAM: Dean, don’t! Dean? Dean!

JACK: I know what I’ve done.

SAM: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, Dean! Hey, hey, hey! Dean!

DEAN: Stay back, Sam!

SAM: (Panting)

JACK: And you were right all along. (Chuck comes up alongside Sam) I am a monster.

SAM: (to Chuck) Do something. … You’re enjoying this.

CHUCK: Shh.

(Dramatic music plays)

(Dean cocks the gun. He looks Jack in the eye for several seconds and then slowly lowers the gun. At this point, Castiel also comes running towards the area)

(Dean uncocks the gun and tosses it to the side)

(Transcript from here.)

I have yet to rewatch this episode, but from what I remember I don’t think it had completely sunk in to Dean in that moment of choice that Chuck was there revealing that he was invested in the outcome of this showdown between Dean and Jack. In that moment, that split second of choice between following through with what he’d believed for so long for following through with an extension of the order John gave him about Sam back in the hospital back in 2x01, Dean made a choice for himself. And that choice was to believe that they’d find another way. He decided that when it came right down to it, he couldn’t kill his child for making the same bargain for power and strength that he himself had made multiple times over the last 14 seasons.

He was also directly confronted with a similar situation to that from the end of season 6 and beginning of 7 with Cas and the Leviathans, in that when it really came down to it, he wasn’t capable of murdering someone he considered family.

And then Chuck had to go and erase any chance they had in following up on that. He killed Jack so that they didn’t have a chance to find a way to help Jack balance the power he’d absorbed from destroying Michael or living without his soul.

So yeah, from where we sit now with only one episode of season 15 under our belts waiting with baited breath to see where the rest of this end of the road season takes us, it makes sense that Dean, of all people, would be in the middle of an emotional fucking collapse. And that he would be a huge, whiny, pissbaby douchebag about it because that’s the Dean Winchester way.

Does that make his behavior okay? No, of course not. But does that turn any of the rest of them into saints? Nope, of course not. And I, personally, wouldn’t have it any other way. I like that they’re flawed and fucked up and keep getting back up and going back to each other and keep trying. That’s why we’ve had 15 goddamn seasons of this. Because it’s what they do.

#15x01 #spn spoilers #spn parallels #jack kline #dean winchester #spn meta #season 15 #jack the nougat nephilim #my spn meta #tumblr mobile ate this post the first time i tried posting it but it was in the cache on my laptop so it's back!

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thewhiterabbit42 · 5 years

Text

Breakfast in Bed

A sequel to Home

Pairing: Gabriel x Winchester!sister reader Summary: Gabriel starts his morning by savoring one of his favorite meals. You. Written for:@spnkinkbingo Square Filled: Domestic Word Count: 1791 Tags/Warnings: Fluffy feels, oral sex (female receiving), pleasuring awake

It’s amazing how you already know he’s not there in the space beside you. You don’t even need to check, your arms heavy at your side as sleep keeps your thoughts slurring muzzy.

“Babe… what’rydo...?”

Gabriel’s surprised you manage to get that many words out before you slip back out of consciousness, though he can feel the way some parts of your brain are beginning to shake off the fog at the light pressure his mouth leaves as he presses a series of kisses down the center of your body.

There isn’t as much activity as he pushes your T-shirt up to your chest, exposing the softness of your stomach. Though, he aims to fix that, but before he does, he takes a moment to admire you, breath ghosting over you in warm, short waves.

Your skin, however, feels everything, from the sear of his fingers as he palms your waist to the gentle flick of his tongue, warm and wet along your hip. He can hear your nipples harden, cloth fibers giving the faintest of stretches as peaks form through your shirt.

He notes with pride the way goosebumps radiate from his touch, your brain cells firing in ways that suggest pleasure rather than alarm.

You draw the comforter up to your elbows, mistaking everything for a chill.

He smirks. "Can't have that, sweetheart."

His hands emerge from beneath the covers, gently cupping your breasts and drawing a breathy sigh from you. He loves every inch of your curves, how the lean hardness of your old life has faded beneath soft, well-nourished contours. He could spend hours appreciating them, but that's not on the menu for this morning.

His thumbs begins tracing a wide arc, starting at the edges of soft swells before moving toward the center. Round and round they go at a maddening pace, drawing your senses into awareness and making them stand on end despite the fact that you're still so very not awake.

Your body knows, a petulant whimper catching in your throat. Your need sparks; beautiful, fleeting hues across synapses that remind him of clusters of Christmas lights. You arch into his touch as he continues, feather light, drawing out the colors as he keeps himself just shy of reaching taut nubs.

They never reach them, and the spectrum that flares when he pulls his hands from your chest resonates closer to frustration.

That almost rouses you. Definiately arouses as he listens to the cadence of your heart get a little faster, your blood rushing lower.

You mumble something that suspiciously sounds like dick, though it’s hard for him to tell.

His lips give a wide stretch before descending upon your naval, hands teasing along your waist. They hook beneath the band of your underwear, dragging it down as his fingertips drink in the smoothness of your skin.

Cotton whispers along your thighs which shift in response, and he leaves the garment bunched around your knees. He could just snap them away, but you don’t like that. You want everything to be as normal as possible, and there’s something oddly rewarding to him about doing it all the “hard” way.

It’s been easier than he thought, living like a human rather than just pretending to be one. No magic snaps. No shortcuts. No mojo whatsoever (save the occasional indulgence in the bedroom), though he still doesn’t understand the need to spend so much time away from you.

Sure, you both have a keener appreciate for the time together, but he would regardless, knowing that your lifespan will pass by him in the blink of an eye.

He hasn’t told you that. He’s not sure how to, because he knows how difficult it is for you already. You try so hard to keep your insecurities hidden, but he can’t help but pick up on the questions that plague your mind late at night when you think he’s sleeping.

How long before my youth fades and I no longer catch his eye?

How long before the novelty wears off and he grows tired of me?

When will he realize he deserves so much more than I can give him?

He doesn’t. If anything you deserve more, but he has yet to find a way to make you believe that.

But, most moments you’re happy. With him. Together. And that’s all that matters.

He brings his mouth down at the edge of your hip, smiling at the way you wriggle as he hits a sensitive spot. He’s spent hours mapping them out, each one of them seared into his mind. What really amazes him is the way you’ve diligently memorized his as well, as much as you can anyway, given the limits of human cognition.

He’s never met anyone who’s so focused on him. On what he likes. His thoughts. His feelings. It’s like he’s as much your world as you are his, and he almost doesn’t know what to do with that.

Pleasure, however, now that’s an area he knows.

By the time he’s scraping his chin against your thigh he’s wearing a full on grin, the familiar tickle lighting up cells across your body and mind in ways he’s never seen with anyone else. It’s like you recognize him on a whole other level. With every fiber of your being, you brighten to him and only him, whether or not you’re awake.

When his tastebuds hit your folds you’re aware enough to hum, and your sweet tang erupts across his awareness like the finest of nectars. Your legs part unconsciously as he tongues deeper, gliding along your slit to lap up the juices already gathering there before lifting higher.

It isn’t until he reaches your clit that you finally float into consciousness, pleasure exploding across your neurons like fireworks in the night.

You gasp, hand shooting straight beneath the covers as your instincts immediately take over. A fullness spreads through his chest at the way your fingers simply slide through the tangle of curls at the back of his head, fondly stroking, when months ago, you would have wrenched him off you in panic.

“Mmm,” your fingers tighten in his hair as you arch into him. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Just having some breakfast in bed,” he purrs before getting back to business.

He knows what you like, working his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves as his hands reach back up to your breasts. There’s no teasing this time as his fingers head straight for pebbled peaks, brushing lightly to watch those scintillating colors burst into flames before he gives your nipples a light pinch.

“Fuck, Gabe,” you groan, legs shifting as you try to shimmy your panties low enough to catch it with a foot.

He reaches down, assistance given in the quick snap of elastic. It draws a small white flicker of discomfort through your desire before quickly being drawn into it.

Your range of sexual appetites has been a pleasant surprise. You like roughness as much as tenderness, the day and mood determining where along the spectrum you lay. Right now, you’re happy to let him take the lead, knees eagerly falling open with their freedom as you wait for his next move.

“Take your shirt off,” he says. “I want to see you.”

You do, without hesitation, and before the garment even hits the floor he feels his chest stop moving.

It amazes him, how you're still able to do that. He's had many attractive paramours over the years, but looks have only held his interest for so long. Kali held his interest far longer than anyone, her tenacity reeling him back in every time he thought he might be ready to move on.

But you are different. As cliche as it sounds, you are the embodiment of beauty on every level possible, your mind and body lethal in their own right, but add your heart and soul to that mix and you are nothing short of stunning.

He can't imagine a time where you won't steal his breath or send a tremor of nerves dancing through his system.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

“Shut up." It's a knee jerk response, false irritation trying to cover the shy tiny tint that blossoms across your face and tugs at the edge of your lips.

You've gotten much better at accepting compliments from him, and he's noticed it's only in the moments you feel vulnerable that you revert to deflection.

"You're such a dork - stop looking at me.”

He wonders if you realize just how many places you blush when you’re embarrassed? It’s not just your cheeks that get a dusting of pink, small rosy patches springing up across your chest and highlighting the tops of your breasts.

One day he'll find out just how many other shades he can paint your body on words and looks alone.

“Seriously, Gabe, if you don't get back to business, the only place you'll be dining this morning will be Louise's diner."

He holds back a chuckle, knowing his amusement would only rub salt into the rawness you feel beneath his gaze.

“Somebody’s demanding before they’ve had their coffee." He infuses just enough sarcasm to toe the line of snarky, a place he finds you feel the safest when exposed.

"Yeah, well…" You begin talking as he settles between your legs, hands smoothing up the back of your thighs as he hooks your knees over his shoulders.

"You knew what you were getting into when you -- ohhh."

You groan as the flat of his tongue immediately finds that sensitive spot again, licking broad strokes in ways he knows gets your blood flowing.

“Ah - You're too good at this." You throw your head back into your pillow, rocking yourself into his face.

He pauses, just to be a shit, his tongue freezing in place.

"Ith thah a complain'?" He smirks, watching the glow of vivid colors flare bright with burnt copper as he takes it another step further and withdraws his mouth. "Because if it is, you're welcome to--"

"Eat me, choir boy." You're only partially joking, fingers grasping strands of honey, tightening their grip before pushing him back into position.

This time he does chuckle, vibrations jolting your brain waves back to desire as he wisely doesn't argue. His goal isn’t to tease you, for once. Not much, anyway.

No, today is about savoring. You. These simple moments where he can pleasure you awake in the comfort of a home you’ve created together, a place where you can slip back into an endorphin-soaked haze without being interrupted while he whips you up an actual meal.

But first, he needs to finish his. After all, they say breakfast is the cornerstone of the day.

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @lucifer-in-leather @blondecoffeecake @tistai @room-with-a-cat @authoressskr @revwinchester @flufy07 @tardis-is-mine @tangle-of-ivy @luciferseclipse @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectivedestiel @angelofwinchester17 @phantomwarrior12 @jeanjeaniethings @wontlookaway @copperseraphim @fandomsrourlives @archangelgabriellives @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mizzezm @disneymarina @zpandaqueen @idabbleincrazy @katekvnes @han68000 @brokencasbutt67-writer @crashdevlin @klinenovakwinchester @bofa-deans-nuts @sherlockedtash88 @lovelyhexbag

Gabe Squad:

@bloodstained-porcelain-doll @lacqueluster @baritonechick @samikitten @kazosa @nobodys-baby-now @acarpouschimerical @cipherwheeldecoder @megasimpleplan4ever @azlinh @fruitypieq @koithings @booknerd1324 @the-kryomancer @karichanarts @archangelashiah @calamity-chaos @erisunderthemoon @hankypranky @missihart23 @curious-trickster @gabegirrl86 @trickster-emissarie @sweetmisseddreams2002 @bun-dpdbny @greeneyedtrickster @marichromatic @ourloveisforthelovely @supernaturalways

@a-wing-and-a-pen

#gabriel x reader #gabriel #spnkinkbingo #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #gabriel fanfic #gabriel oneshot #spn gabriel #rabbit writes

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