#pack fanfic soul rebel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

derinxfam · 4 years ago

Text

Match Made In Heaven

♡ AU: Devil! Taehyung x Angel! Reader

♡ Genre: mostly smut, tiny angst and fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.6 K

♡ Warnings: edging, teasing, nipple kink, lactation, oral sex (female receiving), praise kink, corruption kink, purity kink, mentions of rape, big dick Tae, light bdsm, light spanking, daddy kink

♡ Synopsis: Every year, an angel falls to Hell ever since the Devil and God made a contract. Every angel gets tested. The angel with the lowest score gets sent to Hell as a sacrifice. Despite her top position, Xan, an archangel, volunteers due to personal reasons. The Devil, Taehyung, hurts her - in the best way.

♡ A/N: crossposted on AO3. inspired by btsracket and their story on AO3, “Smutty Fanfic In The Time Of Covid”, especially chapter 37. Please tell me if I should continue this and give me feedback! likes, comments, all appreciated.

Archangels aren’t supposed to question. Archangels aren’t supposed to be flawed. Archangels aren’t supposed to disobey and they’re certainly not supposed to yearn for a touch. God created them meticulously. Archangels strive for perfection. Humans hinge on them.

So why has God planted this grotesque behaviour inside you? You don’t feel or act utmost. Your attitude steered away from what’s expected, no, what’s imposed on you.

“Lola. Xanders. Avonne! Don’t tell me you’re daydreaming again!” Minzy tears your peace away from you.

“Zee, I just lost someone dear to me a week ago. Let me grieve. God gave us grief for a reason,” you demand that she empathises instead of pestering, which doesn’t work.

“Xan, look, I loved that kid. What was his name? Andy?”

“Abby,” you interrupt.

“Right, Abby. I loved him, you know? He gave you a reason to wake up in the morning. But he’s dead, Xan. God wanted his soul here.”

You inevitably roll your eyes at that. Like you’ve done something, anything other than contemplating why God took his soul. Worse yet, he took it and put it in hell. The worst thing Abby had ever done was scoffing at a friend or side eyeing his parents. You committed more menacing deeds than he did, and you were carved from gold and purity itself. Nothing could help you wrap your head around it. The computing didn’t prove right. Abby deserved to be here with you, his guardian angel, in heaven.

“Yeah, you’re right, Zee,” you agree. She must have weeded out the surrendering timbre of your voice. The next gesture she wears is raising her eyebrows. She’s in obvious disbelief. You don’t care.

“Xan, look, the annual sacrifice is in two days. Don’t be this year’s unfortune,” she dishes out with a matter-of-fact stance. A deep sigh bubbles in your lungs, which you swallow. Deep down, you don’t doubt that her heart is in a good place. But yours isn’t anymore.

Studying for the exam was no different than a walk in the park for you. Of course you got the maximum grade. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you’ve been congratulated. You suppressed a grimace each time. You reflexively faked a smile just for this situation.

After an ego boosting week, square one welcomed you with open arms again. Your unfiltered thoughts portrayed a miserable image. Day by day, sinning appeased you. Abby was still a dead, and a so called, sinful man. It didn’t add up. He wasn’t even 20. He had not one addiction. Worse souls have entered the heaven. All of it urged you to yell at God for the first time. You’ve always been a peculiarly top notch archangel. Always kind, considerate and soft headed, your exemplary behaviour levered you to the top. God even sent you a handwritten letter of appreciation. You were the big deal. If only they knew how rotten and infuriated you felt… How dare you question God and his motives? How dare you read a book about the Devil?

Your mind, however, was made up. You would volunteer for the annual sacrifice. You were in for a treat. From what you’ve gathered, the Devil was called Taehyung. Even uttering his name counted as a sin here, the biggest blasphemy. He was as old as time, and a fallen angel. The parallels you observed during your reading would make you gulp in panic. He rebelled against the god, for he believed humans aren’t to be worshipped. From then on, he fell into the hell and has been running the fiery place ever since. The deal he and God made stipulated that he would choose one angel each year, and keep her. Nobody knew what he did with them for sure, but it was speculated that he would use them for his evil deeds. Some angels would become his playthings, endlessly pleasuring him. Each year there would be an exam and the angel with the lowest grade would be sacrificed. Nobody has ever stepped forward to replace them.

You were about to change that.

The day you dread has come. It agitates you that you must leave for good, leaving everyone behind. The worst part is, they don’t even know. Would they even bat an eye if they did? You suspect that. Hell doesn’t house archangels, at least it wasn’t created to do so. The stories you’ve heard from your friends about the sacrificed angels that communicated with heaven always send shivers down your spine. You feel small. So small. You wonder if that’s how Abby felt. However, you double down. Cowardice is not a trait you obtain. You can fall as a heroine, or live here like a liar. You pick the latter.

Once everyone has gathered, the Council showed up. All the angels got lined up and bowed down. One of the women cleared her throat and addressed the crowd.

“Welcome, the blessed ones! We’ve gathered here to choose the annual sacrifice. First, let’s congratulate the consecutive winner, Lola Xanders Avonne. This is her 6th year at the top, a round of applause and a standing ovation, please.”

Well – this will certainly make it harder for you to volunteer. You stand there awkwardly. One last time, the rest of the angels stroke your ego. You’ll miss bathing in praise, but you miss Abby more. The applauses simmer down, and disappear just like he did.

“Now, as you all know, the angel at the bottom of the exam results list is Rokita Nmurtiq Laya. We all will dearly miss you, Rokita. Please say your-“

“No, you won’t.”

Everyone has their eyes on me. Again. It unnerves me. I know I have to step up, though, if it’s the last thing I do.

“I… volunteer. As a sacrifice,” you step forward. Everyone’s jaw drops.

“Xan, you’re the-“

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it. I’ve mustered enough courage to fall at my own will. I want everyone to remember me as a brave angel, as someone who has left a mark. Nothing more. If I fail at that, if you don’t give me the chance, you’ll be robbing me of this opportunity. I beg of you to let me be brave,” you confess. They see the look in your eyes. You’re adamant, unstoppable and foxy.

“Nobody’s ever done it before,” she reminds you.

“Then let me pioneer the others.”

The Council keeps their stern looks on you, but know you have the last word. You're allowed to fall.

You enter the hell once you’ve packed. It has a creepy vibe to it, sure, but it’s nowhere near the fantasised version. No flames to be seen, none that catches your eye. The temperature is higher than that of hell, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. A beige hallway leads you to the help desk, where you see a tall woman. She must be a fallen angel like you. Females aren’t born as demons, they become them. It's what your fate awaits, too.

“Hello there, darling, you must be the new sacrifice. Now, Taehyung’s been waiting for you! We’ve all heard about your decision to volunteer, what a brave soul,” she welcomes.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Xan. They must have sent you my files, surely you know my full name,” you lightly joke and add, “ so what’s yours?”

“Sowamic, but call me Wam, darling. We’ll have a whole eternity to get to know each other,“ she deadpans, making you second guess yourself. She must have noticed.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, dear. I know they feed you lies there but, most of us are happy here. You’ll like it in hell, I assure you. Now, let’s see our main guy. He’ll be frantic if he waits any longer.”

A semi-genuine smile curves your lips. In a short while, she stops in front of a big black door and knocks. A deep voice signals them to come in.

“Sir, here’s the new angel, Xan. The only archangel to fall here.”

“Thank you, Wam. You can leave,” he instructs. She obeys, and promptly walks out.

“Well, Xan, welcome to hell!”

You’re stomped. Is he the Devil or is he cosplaying? The stranger you’re conversing with looks too young and nice to be the Devil, and frankly, too handsome. Black eyes, his hair black also, a mole under his right eye and on his nose, flat but wide lips… He was ethereal.

“I-uhm… I didn’t expect this place to be…”

“This cosy?” he mocks.

“Yeah. It’s cosy. You-you don’t look like the Devil,” you challenge him.

“Did you expect an uglier, older and meaner version with less sense of fashion? Sorry, I don’t age, torture or mistreat. Plus, we have a Gucci store here, what did you take me for?”

Now you’re even more confused.

“Don’t you torture or rape people? How is this hell, people pay for their sins here! You, aren’t you..” You can’t finish the phrase.

“I am truly offended, Xan. Torturing and raping? I’m not a monster! I only make sinners get the karma they deserve, I don’t personally hurt anyone. That’s their own minds. And raping? I knew the old white guy up there was nuts but this shit is defamation on my behalf,” he scoffs. The audacity to frame him as a felon!

“I didn’t kn-“

“Of course you didn’t. Now you do.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. You really have a knack for ruining things before they start, huh?

“I’m not offended, angel, just upset a bit," he admits.

“I could… Make you feel better?” your mouth acts before your mind. To be fair, you have been getting these urges. He’s rumoured to be seductive and sinister, but is he really? You could have mistaken him for a male angel (which, granted, don’t exist) if it hadn’t been for the dark aura. He was unique, charming, kind and captivating, even. Maybe he was also a witch that bewitched you. Either way, you were enchanted. His smile exacerbated the said enchantment.

“How are you planning to do that, Xan?”

“Doll. Call me doll.”

He resists. He can play hard to get for you.

“Why should I?”

“Because I was conceived to serve you as such,” you rebuttle.

“Don’t tempt me, Xan. You don’t have to. Not everyone here is employed to satisfy me.”

You know that. You also know that you desire him. You exhibit it with a passionate kiss. His tongue is warm unlike the rest of his body. He pulls back.

“Xan, are you-“

“Yes, goddammit, I am sure. Do you not wanna fuck me?” you retort.

“I wanna fuck the innocence out of you, doll. How could I not? Look at you.” he purrs. His aura shines exquisitely, taking its toll on you. Whatever falls from his lips is honey, your favourite poison. The way he finally addresses you as you wish ignites your flames. He finally rids you of your clothes, your top and shorts pool on the ground.

“I wanna demonstrate how holy I can make you feel in hell. Will you behave and be my good doll?”

“Taehyung, please, I’m soaking wet for you, please do something! I’m at my wit’s end,” you plead with a small voice. He smirks, proud of and empowered by his effect on you. His doll couldn’t afford to wait more, could she?

“Open up, doll, let me taste you. Let me devour your angelic essence. I’ve been dying to try it.” Determined not to make him repeat it, your legs spread open like the beautiful petals of a flower. His cold fingers trace circles on your upper thighs, thoroughly teasing you. On your wrists is the sensation of a pair of handcuffs. He must have read your mind – good dolls don’t move after all. You love restraints.

“Are all archangels this attractive or is it just you, doll? Because I’ve never been this hard this easily. Your scent, it fucking destroys me. So tell me, are you the exception or the rule?” he inquires. You mutter an “I don’t know” between your rapid pants. When his tongue – finally – glides over your pussy, you lose your breath.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he chuckles, “don’t you want me to have a taste of my favourite dessert? You’re doing so good for me, if you keep this up, I might.” His unorthodox expressions only further rile you up. The ropes encasing your limbs immobilise you. His attacks on your tiny, untainted body grow like an avalanche of pleasure and come in tenfold. Then, a jolt of pain races through your body. He lightly slapped your bum.

“When I ask you a question, doll, you don’t ignore it. You answer me. You beg me to use your pure body, to ruin it and paint it with sin. Understand?” He leaves you no room for discussion.

“Y-yes, Taehyung, please, ah, have a taste,” you invite him meekly. His sinful lips dive deeper into your cunt, cherishing the hot, wet cave it’s digging. The precise and sharp movements of his tongue elicit the most wanton moan. He looks like a mad man eating for the first time, like a man with insatiable hunger for what he’s feasting on. No wonder, the devil does feed off of your essence. It’s his fuel. His hands don’t remain idle for too long, and soon grab your breasts. He’s squeezing them, feeling how fistful they are. He would kill a mortal or two for them. God molded you perfectly, and your plump breasts are no exception. The way they hang on your chest like two perfect droplets of water cements the sight to see before the Devil’s dark orbs. Your pert nipples, however, override your tits. If your tits take a slice, your nipples take the entire cake. The rosy buds erect under his touch, the colour and sensitivity permeating his most carnal desires. He grazes his teeth over your hardened, bubblegum coloured nipple. The other gets a pinch. The Devil drools over them, mesmerised. Your heavenly chants, half lidded eyes, pink cheeks and dark, long hair paint the most beautiful scene he’s ever behold in his life. Your beauty enchants like it was designed to. He’s busy getting drunk on it when something oozes from your nipples.

“Angel… You’re lactating. Fuck, are you trying to kill me? God, look at you, so wicked yet innocent… Fuck, doll, I can hardly restrain myself from ravishing you.”

A broken sob pops out of your mouth. He gravitates towards you, your left nipple now between his cold lips. You shriek at the coldness but he soothes you. Sucking your milk from one nipple, the devil’s advances oscillate between pinching and twisting the other. Your milk must taste divine to the devil, affirmed by his pleased moans around the swollen bud. Your tits feel sore, albeit less. When your left tit is emptied, he switches to the other one, now teasing the vacant nipple. He takes his time. When you’re all out of milk, he lifts his head to meet your antsy gaze.

“Doll, your milk tasted so savory, thick and sweet. But I’m going back to my second home now, so spread your legs wide open. I’m gonna taste your sherbet,” he commands. You wilfully obey, and his jet black locks block the view of your angelhood when he kneels down between your legs. Your fresh taste coats his tongue, giving a shower to his tastebuds. You’ve already leaked more than enough to make him dizzy, yet who is he to refuse more of your love potion? His slurping never relents, only causing you to drip more. However, you both acquire enough biology knowledge. Your most delicate spot hasn’t been caressed yet. It’s out of its hood, winking at Taehyung. He doesn’t ignore it for too long. Tender kisses to your pearl crescendo into unforgiving sucks. His lips encapture your sensitive bud. The harsh sucks and the slight graze of his teeth spike a euphoric moment, and you swear your soul left your body for a second there. You’re a mere slave to his ministrations. The edge pulls you in, one more step, one more suck and you’re at the top, and then… The suction vanishes. You moan in desperation, to no avail. The fire in your stomach extinguishes while your sanity crumbles into pieces.

“Ssshh, doll, be good and ride that edge. Show me that you can suffer for me beautifully, so I know you deserve your reward. That’s it, take it nice and slow. Don’t make me gag you, doll,” he exhorts. Your whimpers dim down, now the only audible sound in the room is his sucking. Before you get to the edge again, he halts. You don’t dare to meet his eyes. He flips you on the bed, your hands still tied behind but now your face is buried into the sheets. A ruffling sound echoes, signalling him getting out of his jeans and boxers. His cock remains out of your vision, nevertheless you feel it when the head teases your clit. His precum leaves a burning sensation on your pearl. The devil rams his monster of a cock inside you, easing in slowly to facilitate the process and decrease your pain.

“Fucking shit, g-god, I’ve fucked so many mortals and demons, doll, but your tightness can’t compare. No wonder why archangels are renowned for having the best pussies. You’re squeezing my cock so well, fuck.”

The stretch steals your breath from you right on the spot. He was extremely thick, widening your welcoming walls with no shame, but he was also long. At least 12 inches, from what you could feel. It was throbbing inside you hotly. The devil lost himself in your angelic bliss, he couldn’t help it. Archangels were created by god himself to be the most seductive to the devil, and Taehyung couldn’t resist his own nature. Your shining, ablaze skin, mixing with his honey one; your innocence and white wings, your gloomy, porcelain aura that purifies his dark one, your cunt that clenched around his fat cock… His aggresive pounds drilled into your hot, velvety walls at a fast pace. Your clenches brought him to the edge quickly, but he couldn’t afford to cum just yet.

You, on the other hand, are filled to the brim. Experiencing your hole being this full levitates you. You pride yourself in the thought of him being this hard because of you. His little doll he treasures. His cock is red, throbbing, swollen. You feel the blood flow of the primary vein that cascaded under it. All his pleasure, love, and cock; it’s all yours. He’s all yours and you’re all his.

“Do you know what happens when I cum?” he raises the question. You nod.

“Your-your cum… Fuck, it, uh, makes me, makes me faint because m-my pure body cannot process your sin-ful seed,” you explain in a rush.

“That’s my doll, beautiful and clever,” he praises. His index finger hovers above your clit, lightly teasing it. When it lands on it eventually, he draws circles and eights on it, accompanied by soft pinches. It drives you up to wall. Your moans fuel his ego more, he knows you’re close. So is he. Fascinated and tantalised by his engorged cock, your heavenly pussy clenches. Your clenches and tightness torturously suck the soul out of him. He’s being milked to the last drop. Your cunt is greedy. Since he won’t be able to endure your sweet torment for too long, he enacts. One finger on your left nipple, the other on your pearl, he plays your body like an instrument, and he happens to be a virtuoso. Your pleasure threshold soars high, as if the devil bewitched you. Maybe he did. You wouldn’t mind.

“Do you like it when I taint you? Make you commit a sin? Do you love being my precious little doll?” he entices.

The fact is, you do. Being surrounded by his sinful and worshipping embrace paves a way to your core. If God hadn’t wanted you to sin, he should have admonished harder. Instead, he amplified the Devil.

“I do, I love it when you praise me, wanna be a good, desperate doll for you. I want you to wreck me to the ground and then build me up again, please, Taehyung-“ His vicious chuckle overshadows your pleas.

“Your wish is my command, doll. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it. Are you close?” his voice rumbles in his chest. You nod, too spent to talk. The precum leaking from his slit already has you light-headed.

“Then cum, cum for me and wash my cock with your holiness like the angel you are. Let your little heaven squeeze me as I rip it to shreds” he implores. That’s all it takes.

Sobs ring in the background. Your cunt spasms around him, strangulating his length and blessing him. He feels your juice lubricate his cock even more. Your eternal grace guards you even amongst the throes of passion. You barely catch your breath when he comes with a deep grunt. Your vision fades into darkness and the semen decorating your heaven makes you pass out. His harsh thrusts cease to exist. The devil eyes the unconscious angel under him, swooning. Even in her state, she carries her grace and majesty. His now flaccid dick leaves the safety and warmth of her walls that encase it. He shivers at the sensation.

Five minutes later, the angel is untied, cleaned up and resting on his bed. The smitten devil is playing with her black hair, and giving her temple kisses when the urge kicks in. She would gain consciousness a few hours later, and still hold her holiness like he adored.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #bulletproof boy scouts #bangtansonyeondan #bangtan #bangtan boys #bts v x reader #bts v #angel x demon #smut #kpop #kpop smut #방탄소년단 #방탄소년단 김태형 #김태형 #bts taehyung #taehyung #bts x reader

163 notes · View notes

spnfanficpond · 5 years ago

Text

March 2020 Angel Fish Awards and Raffle

Send us the fics that make you wanna bathe in holy water, that make you sob into a pint of ice-cream, that make you squee and giggle like a schoolgirl. This is one of the best ways to shine light on the fics that are near and dear to your heart- the fics that you absolutely love that aren’t talked about enough- the fics that stop you in your tracks- the fics that deserve all the love in the world.

SOUL OR NO SOUL, IT’S EASY TO GET IN ON THE ANGEL FISH AWARDS AND SHARE SOME LOVE!

Not sure if you or the writer is in the Pond? No worries, just shoot us a message (@manawhaat or @mrswhozeewhatsis) or check out our registries and we’ll help you find out.

Does the fic have to be from this month? Nope! As long as they are a SPN Fanfic Pond member, you can nominate any (spn related) fic they’ve written.

How do I make a nomination? Easy! Simply send us a submission / ask /IM with the link to their fic (or title and author’s url) and a review of why it stood out to you. Tell us your favorite thing about it, about the author’s writing. Tell us why we need to read it and show your favorite authors some love. Any fic, old or new, is welcome and will be listed on our masterlist as long as the writer is a member of the pond.

*We kindly ask that you keep your noms to a max of 4 noms per author. If you really love that writer, great, but the point of these monthly ‘awards’ is to share the love, not make it a one person show.

Thanks, Management

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!!

Nominate a fellow Pond member’s story and get yourself an entry into the raffle! Remember, every nomination is an entry, and you can nominate as many as you want! So, share the love, guys!!

Deadline for Angel Fish nominations is Midnight, PST on Tuesday, March 31st!

Details on prizes, how to enter, and how it all works below the cut!

To see the complete list of prizes and pictures of all of them, CLICK HERE to go to the prize post!

Every month, the winner gets an SPNFanFicPond journal from the CafePress shop!

Along with this fabulous prize, the winner also gets to choose from this list of prizes:

The SPNFanFicPond shop over at CafePress has all kinds of items with our logo on it (logo designed by @revwinchester) that you can choose as a prize! T-shirts, sweatshirts, hoodies, totes, phone cases, keychains, baby clothes, duvet covers, throw pillows, shower curtains, hats, and even jammies and underwear!! Want a thong with our logo on it? YOU CAN GET THAT!!

Story Commission from @queen-of-deans-booty!! Have a request you want written by an awesome writer? Here’s your chance to commission one! If you choose this prize, you would negotiate the details like ships/reader insert, characters, and content, and we would pay the fee! Story is subject to the writer’s individual commission rules.

GISH box prizes!! One of our Big Fish, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, donated a whole box full of stuff that she got from GISH! All of these items are still in their original packaging where possible. - Unicorn Pool Floatie - GISH silly straw (If you choose this prize, you can also choose another prize from the GISH box!) - GISH sock monkey hat - GISH Assbutt plushie - GISH tote bag - GISH flag - The Rebel’s Workbook - GISH sticker 3″ (If you choose this prize, you can also choose another prize from the GISH box!) - GISH enamel pin 1″ (If you choose this prize, you can also choose another prize from the GISH box!) - GISH merit badge (If you choose this prize, you can also choose another prize from the GISH box!) - GISH dice set (If you choose this prize, you can also choose another prize from the GISH box!) - GISH assbutt charm (If you choose this prize, you can also choose another prize from the GISH box!)

Writer Emergency Pack (Click here for more info on this prize!)

The Writer’s Toolbox (Click here for more info on this prize!)

Aqua Notes - Waterproof notepad and pencil so you don’t forget ideas that hit you when you’re in the shower!

Vintage Enochian Pendant from Supernatural-Things.com

Supernatural charm bracelet from Supernatural-Things.com

8x10 season 4 promo print from CultureFly

8x10 art print (Dean/Castiel/Crowley) from CultureFly

9x12 art print (s4 Dean/Sam/snake) from CultureFly

9x12 art print (s14 promo pic Sam/Dean/Cas) from CultureFly

Gil McKinney’s (Henry Winchester) Christmas album (signed CD)

I wish for this enamel pin 1″

I wish for this t-shirt, size XL (Misha not included)

You Are Not Alone enamel pin 1″

What a great load of prizes!!

How To Enter:

All you have to do is submit a story by another Pond member for an Angel Fish Award, and you get an entry for the raffle! Each nomination equals one entry, and you can nominate as many stories as you want!

HERE’S THE SCOOP ON THE ANGEL FISH AWARDS, IN CASE YOU’RE NEW:

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

ANGEL FISH AWARDS ARE PEER-NOMINATED, WHICH MEANS ANY POND MEMBER CAN NOMINATE ANY OTHER POND MEMBER’S STORY!

AND REMEMBER, SUBMITTING FICS TO THE POND MAKES THEM SUPER-EASY FOR OTHER FISH TO FIND AND ENJOY!

If you have any questions about submitting nominations or prizes, send a message to either @manawhaat or @mrswhozeewhatsis and they’ll help you out!

#afa reminder #angel fish raffle

38 notes · View notes

purplenarwhal19 · 5 years ago

Text

COSMIC DANCER

so, here’s a v short story I wrote for class about the importance of exploration. two of the songs that are excerpted in my story I found through @basic-banshee ‘s fanfic Rebel Rebel which is one the best (probably the best) fanfics ever.

Also I don’t know how to do the cutoff thingy so it’s gonna be a long post 🤷‍♀️ so sorry

....

enjoy, I guess? 💕

COSMIC DANCER

Over the radio, a gentle guitar played, followed by T. Rex’s smooth and repetitive lyrics. I sighed, bliss. We were driving on a California road in our rusty tour bus. Sitting in our narrow duffel bag with my costars, with bemused smiles plastered across our faces. Cool air conditioning blew a soft breeze. We listened to beautiful, alternative music, an epic soundtrack for our journey. This was the life of a performer. A true actress.

It was the summer of 1971. I was an actress and dancer on the television and stage show, Desi Dance. We were a children’s show that taught people all about India’s rich culture and history. Dance, art, poetry, music, and food offered just a peek into Indian tradition. We had been performing and touring for six years, but it felt like we started the show yesterday.

“I danced myself right out the womb

Is it strange to dance so soon?”(1)

The guitar solo came into full sound with the backing vocals. It created a powerful feeling that filled my whole body with true hope and strength.

All my life I had danced. It was my escape, my passion, and my love. It felt like that was what I was made for. Reading also brought escape, when the pressure of being an actress became too much. Reciting poetry for my castmates or singing a song that was stuck in my head was so relaxing and freeing. The lyrics are what spoke to me about music, and while I had quite a large vocabulary, there were often times when I didn’t know what a word meant.

“Beraham, what is a womb?” I questioned the boy next to me, clad in loose fitting turquoise pants with gold embroidery.

“I don’t know, Shrishti,” Beraham said plainly.

Beraham and I both sat there, still enjoying it, yet dumbfounded. Curiosity, a crimson rash that we needed to itch, in that unreachable spot on your back. This infection spread throughout the whole cast, leaving all of us with that same itch.

Maybe I could ask my movement director when we get to the venue… I thought as I drifted off, wrapped up in the comfort of music and friendship.

The year was 1973. In the dressing room, now with a smaller cast, we were practicing lines and getting ready to film. I had been groomed with brushes, painted with makeup and had been dressed in the most gorgeous fabrics. My lengha was brilliant magenta with intricate canary yellow details, and paired with a simple sequinned pearly white top. I loved these days, dressing up, feeling beautiful like a royal queen.

To the left of me, a record player played a Paul Simon favourite, setting our moods to the upbeat song.

“The mother and child reunion

Is only a motion away

Oh, the mother and child reunion

Is only a moment away”(2)

A familiar feeling of confusion washed over me. Why is the reunion so important? Why were the mother and child separated? Who are they?

Who is my mother?

Where is she?

Everyone has a mother. Our director, our manager, our movement director, the children in the audience; everyone except me and my fellow actors.

Everyone except me.

I tried to close my perfectly designed eyes, to block out the image of my unfortunate life, but my body refused to listen to my command. Blinking wasn’t even in my control.

I felt so overwhelmed. I had no identity. Who am I? This was a question from too deep in my heart for me to bear.

It was too much. I wanted to leave, I had to get up. I willed my thin, stick-like legs to stand up, pushing, using all the strength I had, just to leave the room.

Nothing happened.

I tried again, hoping for something, some sign of my own independence.

Nothing.

My body wasn’t mine. My will, myself, I could not control it. My life wasn’t mine.

I looked around at my colleagues, chatting, laughing, and totally unaware of their inability to be free. Bound to our employers who dictate and orchestrate our every move.

“Oh, little darling of mine

I can’t for the life of me

Remember a sadder day

I know they say let it be

But it just don’t work out that way”(2)

Paul Simon was right, I still can’t remember a sadder day than that one. My life had changed forever.

As years passed, I began to feel emptier and emptier, resenting my profession, and hating my life. Those years also happened to be our most successful, as a show. The success changed everything. Our bosses got sloppy; high on the fame, as well as their drugs of choice.

Most notably, Arjun, our stage director, became addicted to heroin. It was a horrid sight to witness him become a shell of the person he used to be. It reminded me exactly of that sad, sad Velvet Underground song.

“Heroin, be the death of me

Heroin, it’s my wife and it’s my life

Because a mainline into my vein

Leads to a center in my head

And then I’m better off than dead”(3)

It broke my heart to see him like this. I couldn’t understand how he could inject a toxin into his body by choice. How he could slowly kill himself one high after another.

By then, I had realized that I wasn’t human. I was something else, like them, yet different; stronger, yet weaker.

I spoke with my closest companions, Beraham, Jaidev, and Mitali. They were as confused as I was the day I realized I entered this world without anyone, without a mother. They too began life motherless.

The directors, started our show with shining faces, and now were graying and worn out. We kept the same expressions over the years, never seeing a wrinkle appear, never feeling an ache or pain, never feeling or looking our age.

We hadn’t aged in the past 20 years. We were to be used, like the puppets we were, forever.

“What can we do?” Mitali questioned, urgency overtaking her usual calm nature.

“Nothing,” Jaidev said. “It’s hopeless…”

“I want you to know deep in the cell of my heart

I really want to go

There is another world… a better world

Well, there must be…”(4)

I felt like the Smiths were reading my mind; I wanted another world, a better world, and I hoped with all my heart and soul that there would be one.

This was the lowest depth of our depression. We considered “ending it all”, whatever that meant.

Most of the time our directors listened to nonsense music filled with empty, happy thoughts that had less meaning than my life. When we listened to the melancholy music of Miles Davis, Billie Holiday and Chet Baker, that our bosses listened to so rarely, it felt reassuring: someone else suffered as we did.

Determined to solve this problem, I decided to speak with the director about our conditions. I had heard the humans refer to us as “puppets”, inanimate objects who could only recite lines, made only of felt, and paint. This sounded as bad as any slur that I’d heard before. They pushed and shoved us around, threw us in crowded duffel bags. This had to stop. We needed to break away from the chains the humans bound us in.

“Today we will close our show with an excerpt from Keralan poet, Kamala Surayya. “I am sinner, I am saint— I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” I paused, taking a moment to think of the right words.

“I cannot read the words of a woman who has lived and loved, while I am kept here, held captive by you humans!” I angrily burst, far less eloquent than I had imagined, emotion overtaking my composed mask.

My face turned a deep scarlet shade of red, reminiscent of tamaatar; something that had never happened before. The camera people, directors, and executives stood in place, too shocked to move or speak, the puppet that they had manipulated for so many years had finally taken control and spoken back.

Divya, a camera person, pale and shocked, stuttered, “W-what is happening?” She glanced around nervously at the other people in the room to see if they saw the same thing.

“Divya, you aren’t hallucinating. This is very real. My costars and I are conscious beings; we may not be able to move like you humans, but we deserve the same treatment as you. We have thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. The way you speak about us is degrading. The way you touch and move us is disrespectful. We deserve respect and our thoughts and opinions are as valid as yours,” I spoke with a dignified tone. “The cast and I would like to have a meeting with all of you to discuss our treatment.”

Wide eyed, the crew, obediently agreed and took us to our cramped dressing room. The room was painted a pale yellow with a cheap elephant decal on the wall that was torn and peeling on the edges. This tiny room barely housed all thirteen of us cast members. With all of the behind the scenes crew in our room, we were packed in tight, like sardines in a tin.

“We have called this meeting today to negotiate our rights and responsibilities within this community,” Mitali serenely began. “Our citizenship within our show needs to include us as full members with equal rights and consideration. We understand that your use of us has immense benefits for you, with few benefits for us.”

“You make significant profits from our labor. Your wage is even plentiful enough for you, Arjun, to fund your addiction.” Jaidev scoffed.

With a quivering chin, Arjun begged, “What can we do to fix our mistakes?”

Beraham blustered, “ We want a change in your behaviour!”

“We cannot move on our own, so we expect help and kindness. When you have moved us in the past, even just five minutes ago, you throw around our bodies, like the inanimate objects you believe us to be. We want to go outside and see the world. We want more space in our dressing room, and we expect some real answers about who and what we are,” I demanded.

Afters some discussions we learned that we were the descendants of Saraswati, the Goddess of wisdom and art. The movement directors, who were called “puppeteers”, had no idea that we could do more than just read prepared lines, until we had all travelled to America. This was too far away from the Pundita, that had given them the divine puppets that we were. They could not receive guidance. They had no idea as to what we were capable of, or how to teach us.

That Pundita was my mother. Her name was Tavni, and I was given a picture of her.

She had a golden, caramel complexion, with large eyes and hazel pupils. She had a smile that lit up a whole room and round, rosy cheeks.

I noticed the similarities in our appearances, the way she had crafted me to look so much like her.

I had found my identity.

Learning all of this information brought a new sensation to my eyes; something burning and prickly, and a wet droplet traveling down my cheek. I was crying! This feeling brought a warm emotion of relief, of content and of closure.

Soon after these discoveries, I realized that I loved my job. Even though the past years had been rough, this was what I was meant to do. If conditions improved, I would truly be happy.

I was going to do what my mother created me for. Dancing and performing, bringing India to the whole world and teaching about our glorious culture. I would do just that.

“I danced myself into the tomb

I danced myself into the tomb

Is it strange to dance so soon?

I danced myself into the tomb…”(1)

THE END

SONGS REFERENCED:

(1) Cosmic Dancer, T. Rex, 1971

(2) Mother and Child Reunion, Paul Simon, 1972

(3) Heroin, The Velvet Underground, 1967

(4) Asleep, The Smiths, 1987

#writing #inspo #art #exploration #indian #lengha #my writing #please be kind #I actually got a perfect mark on this and I am so fucking excited #PLEASE READ

4 notes · View notes

ruwithmeguys · 6 years ago

Note

Just re-read your "Indecent Proposal" fanfic. Still AMAZING. I still hate Laurel. I was reminded of something from Sherlock. If you theorize before the data/evidence is in, then that compromises your deduction of the evidence, b/c you force-fit the evidence to fit your theories. Everything Laurel's doing! She theorized Felicity was bad, now she 'sees' that the evidence supports her theory b/c she wants it to, b/c she theorized before all the evidence came together.

Do you realise how lovely you are sending me this ask?

I’m horrible at responding to asks because my job makes itdifficult to want to come back online after the fact I tend to miss some ofthese and it pains me. But it’s also one of the best ways to either motivate meor cheer me up. See, us fanfic authors: we’re kind of needy and we don’trealise we are until we start posting. I suppose another part of why we post atall, past the absolute joy I feel knowing I’ve made someone’s day a tiny bitbrighter, is for validation. To connect or touch a group of people and havethem believe the same. So saying thank you is never really enough but I’ll say itanyway.

Right! LL.

I don’t hate her character. I pity it. And the actress didn’thelp this assessment. Both character and actress were god awful incarnations ofll.

I got this SL for IP from S2 – addicted to drugs and lookingto make/get SOMETHING right – after her failed vigilante manhunt, her guiltover tommy, loosing any chance with Oliver and so on and so forth – ll comes tothe conclusion that Blood is a bad guy. AND SHE’S RIGHT!

But.

The way she goes about however, was horrifc. She DECIDED shewas right, pushed everyone away and was determined to prove it. She carried outher own investigation and the results were catastrophic: she got herself fired,used the Arrow and lost the respect she’d gained form the city. Plus, everyone foundout she was an addict and had stolen her father’s pills to pop. Methodology isa huge deal. Because of her method of choice, it didn’t matter that she wasright in the end: she wasn’t a vigilante. She couldn’t just decide that the lawshould bend around her. She BROKE laws, lost her best friend (didn’t seem tocare at all about that either, reinforcing a certain theory involving narcissism)),lost Oliver’s blind affection – he rescinds his ‘blind spot’ in regards to her –and tied a professional noose around her neck. She did it to herself becauseshe didn’t think before she acted, was impatient and dead set on proving shewas right. She made such a hash of it that the people around her only see abroken junkie by the end of it. Luckily for her, she gets a second chance downthe line.

But this way of acting goes with her S3/4 arcs – becoming avigilante with just a couple of months of boxing behind her and she flipping dies in S4 because of this choice. She bringsback Sara and doesn’t care at all about the ethics of it, of bringing back abody without a soul of subjecting a city to her murdering soulless sister, oftying her up in a basement: if LL wants it, she goes right ahead and gets itand genuinely doesn’t care about the people around her who are affected.

THAT’S were I based this part of indecent proposal on.

The only time she ever cared about the opinion of others,was after Sara’s return. Sara. It’s always been Sara’s opinion that affected herthe most. Her father’s opinion made her rebel or set out to prove him wrong andit wasn’t Oliver’s good opinion she wanted: it was his love. Little did sheever realise that trust, respect and admiration are qualities that areintimately connected with romantic love. Another theory proven.

LL, like Oliver, never understood what being in love trulymeant, which means she’s never truly been in love.

What made her passing sad was that she thought she did. Shethought a LOT about herself actually. She thought she knew herself, knewOliver, knew Tommy.

She didn’t know a thing. Admitting that would have been truewisdom. Now imagine what might have happened in indecent proposal if ll haddecided not to blindly trust a something that sounded like an opening for herlife to change for the better and to instead, investigate and make up her ownmind?

But when you believe something strong enough, your brain naturallytwists the truth to bend to the will of your greed. It’s actually a defensivemechanism because it makes you feel better. It’s analogous to creating your OWNlogic, which isn’t logic at all. It’s just another bias, subjective opinion.

The only way she’d ever learned (the one time she did on theshow) was when there were consequences to her actions that affected HER, notjust other people (which brings back the question of the ideal of what a virtuous person is versus genuine empathy). So Ineed this to pack some punch, you know: when eventually finish the thing.

As far as I’m aware, there are only a couple of things that wouldmake ll understand not only the wrong what she does next but also where she went wrong. Loosing respecthas something to do with it. Loosing love DOESN’T, unless it’s forever. As in,no chance in hell will this ever happen. Loosing the POSSIBILITY… That wouldscare the shit out of her.

8 notes · View notes

thevikingwoman · 6 years ago

Text

May Reading

Reading for May :). Lots of reading and I apologize for the length

As usual, my reading tag is viking reads

Novels & Short Stories

Burn Bright by Patricia Briggs This is the 5th in a series of werewolf mystery/romance books (This series is a spinoff another series by the same author). This book focuses less on romance, (the main couple has reached a steady point in their relationship), and more on the mystery aspect. It had a bit of slowness in the middle, but both the beginning and the end were very well crafted. There were some surprises and I am not sure I was entirely convinces, but it was alright. I love this universe, which after many, many years and 15-ish books is still interesting and very well thought out. We got to know a bit more about an important and always interesting side character, which was cool. Briggs writes straight forward and I always consume her books in a couple of days.

Ryuana and the Wolf by A.E.Holloway (aka @superfluouskeys ) This was a really cute short story. I loved Ruyana and her sweetness and bravery. Her inner conflicts were very well described. I enjoyed the other characters and the glimpse I got of them. The use of myth and metaphors was fantastic, I can’t say more without spoilers! Go get this book - support your fandom artists, and support some great fantasy wlw!

Long Fanfic (completed)

How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles by @kaoruyogi [Cullen/mgit, nsfw] I am so happy I finally had time to read this, especially is it is now complete! Belle, who lands in Thedas with no clue and lots of opinions, is just a fantastic character. Funny, struggling, direct and a total badass, she brings something to the Inquisition that none of the other characters does, and therefore brings something new to the story. Though this is a Cullen romance, it is also an ensemble fic, and I love how @kaoruyogi writes all the characters. Cullen is wonderfully portrayed with depth and sensitivity, the background romance between the Inquisitor Max Trevelyan and Josephine is sweet and wonderful. The story has many twists and turns, and Belle and Cullen go through a lot - and I don’t think I spoil too much by saying that they ultimately get their happy ending. There is also a great supporting cast of other original characters.

Short Fanfic Highlights

I read so many good short fics, sorry I list too many, and not enough.

“I am not losing you again” by @jawsandbones [Solavellan] Short and sad and packs a punch.

Ellana would 100% peg Solas again by @buttsonthebeach [Solavellan, nsfw] Incredible hot, so much smut with so much feeling. I love their relationship and how you write it.

Ellana and Solas’ Wedding night by @buttsonthebeach [Sollavellan, nsfw] This one probably will not make sense without reading Body of Knowledge. I loved this scene. It was beautiful and tender and as always their relationship is so deep. This one made me cry.

The Witch’s Offer by @idrelle-miocovani [past Solavellan] I love this little AU you have created Idrelle. and this was perfect. The emotions, the things not said and then said. Just so well written.

“This is going to hurt” by @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul [gen] I just adore this slice of Dalish life. The two characters are so vivid and I just love these moments that show daily life in Thedas.

Ariala cooking for Solas by @cedarmoons [pre-relationship Solavellan] This one was so sweet and wonderful and I love their growing relationship.

Seashells by @bearly-tolerable [past Solavellan] Short and poetic and sad - but not sad. Perfect.

Enamoured by @dinoswrites [Solavellan, nsfw] Very very hot solo!Solas. Such amazing writing, gorgeous sentences. I just love how everything spirals out of control for him.

Antigravity by @galadrieljones [Solavellan] A lovely piece of Nume and Solas, a quiet moment. I love the descriptions and the hesitations and the doing. All the little moods you write that perfect, as always you words are stunning.

#may reading list #reading list #fanfic rec #fic rec #long post

28 notes · View notes

sky-scribbles · 7 years ago

Text

Through Rebel Eyes

(I’m still filled with feelings from the Star Wars Rebels Season 3 finale so... *throws a random character study fanfic into the void and runs*)

The first thing Kallus notices about living with the Rebellion is how bright everything is.

He has lived his life among shades of black and white and grey. His years have been spent walking the polished corridors of Imperial strongholds and stations, standing on the spotless bridges of their ships. The world around him has been smooth, ordered, monochrome – and those things always meant safety for him. Colour and chaos were things he encountered only in battle, brought to him by blaster fire and bursts of flame.

But as the Ghost leaps through hyperspace – once, twice, three times, to shake off any pursuit as they head towards Yavin – it all changes. He, and the other battered souls the Ghost crew rescued from the ruined base on Atollon, collapse to sleep on chairs, on tables, some even curling up on the floor like children. And as Kallus lies there, exhausted but sleepless, he notices the paintings.

Sabine Wren has covered the insides of the ship with her signature graffiti, coloured shapes and emblems and figures coating nearly every available space. In the dim light, Kallus casts his eyes across them, and realises how comforting a sight they are. He isn’t sure why, until he sees the symbol, that symbol, the phoenix emblem that’s repeated again and again across the walls in ink of every possible hue. The symbol that, for years, set his teeth on edge when he saw it, because it represented chaos, it represented his enemies.

Now… it’s a symbol for freedom. It represents the rebellion – and that means it represents him.

Later, he learns that there’s more brightness to be found in this new life. Food, for instance. His first few meals with the rebellion are plain fare, ration packs dug out from the depths of the Ghost’s stores – there’s nothing else on board ship, and they have to stretch what little they have so as to feed the extra mouths. But then they reach Yavin.

Imperial food is of expert design. Every servant of the Empire – every stormtrooper and politician and intelligence agent – is given the exact amount of energy they will need to take them through to their next meal. Galactic supply lines ensure that these meals are supplied to everyone, everywhere. They are made for maximum efficiency, and minimum cost, so that the men and women who form the turning cogs of the Empire may keep the great machine running without draining its resources. In fact, Kallus can probably count the number of actual solid meals he’s had since he began working for the Empire on his fingers – as far as his superiors are concerned, officers should get by on nutritive beverages. Fewer resources required, less time-wasting to consume.

Among the rebels, things could not be more different. Their supply lines are ramshackle, constantly under siege. Those supplies that arrive are often late, or smaller than expected. Perfectly-crafted meals are an impossibility – and so the rebellion does what it does best. It improvises.

They throw things together, bits of this shipment and bits of that, mixing foods that Kallus never imagined could share a plate. And they supplement everything, adding little bits of flair that make up for the patchwork nature of every meal. One day, the cooks slap fried convor eggs over what would otherwise be a regular dinner of fried meat. Another time, some Twi’lek scouts return from a mission on Ryloth bringing home some of their native spices, and they’re scattered liberally over the evening meal. They bring flavours into Kallus’s mouth that have simply never been there before, flavours that he never even knew existed.

This improvisation, this experimentation – it’s so strange, so… foreign. And it’s incredible. It’s as if he’s discovering his sense of taste for the first time.

And then… there are the people.

He’s seen groups of rebels before, of course, usually on the opposite side of a battlefield to him, and he remembers always taking the time to let a pulse of scorn work through him at the sight of them. Barely any armour, just motley assortments of clothing, maybe with a salvaged pauldron strapped on here or there. Almost never arranged in any kind of formation. And all different species, humans and Twi’leks and Togruta and Zabraks and decrepit clone troopers and stars only knew what else. It always disgusted Kallus before, because of how very unalike the Empire it was, how far a cry it was from what he was used to, from the rows of identical Stormtroopers in gleaming armour –

And... there’s no avoiding it, he has to admit the truth. The sight of them disgusted him because the Empire always told him that humans were the most advanced of races, that they were the apex of civilisation. That aliens were strange and untrustworthy and unwelcome, that they were worthy only of being eliminated or ignored or controlled. And because a part of him believed it.

Kallus can’t deny that a part of him still does, though he’s battling it into submission. He’s been steadily working harder to silence it since a Lasat saved his life on Bahryn, since he learned the truth about what happened to the Geonosians, since a Twi’lek captain pulled his escape pod into her ship. He knows he has to fight the voice of his Imperial education if he’s ever going to truly belong here, and he thinks – he hopes he’ll win.

He hopes he’ll win, because of what he saw when the Ghost first touched down on Yavin IV. When he descended the gangway, still in his Imperial uniform, and saw a rebel base up close for the first time.

He saw the multitude of species, clad in pilot suits of every colour and jackets worn and frayed at the hems from long hours in the field or in the cockpit. He saw the way they ran to greet the survivors from Atollon, a few friends embracing, others cheering their escape, complete strangers shaking hands, a hundred voices welcoming Phoenix Squadron’s weary remnants to Yavin. He saw the easy camaraderie they all shared, though most of them had never even met, and he saw how every head bowed at the news of Commander Sato’s death. And he saw the way every hangar and corridor thrummed with activity, how a thousand beings from a hundred species were working together to keep this place alive.

And at last, he understood why the rebellion was still standing.

These rebels – they’re like life itself. Full of light and colour and energy, defying boundaries, refusing to be shoved into formations. The Empire, vast, unrelenting, made of faceless soldiers dressed in black and white, sinks its claws into the galaxy and tries to force everything into a perfect order. But that... that simply isn’t impossible. You can’t tame life, can’t impose order on it. It will always resist, always push back – always rebel.

This rebellion is the natural chaos of the galaxy, rising up against a force that would dim its colours and dull its flavours and silence its sounds. Small wonder so many have answered the call. Small wonder they pull victory from the jaws of defeat time and time again - and that even when they are beaten, they still survive.

That first evening on Yavin, Kallus sits in a corner of the busiest hangar and watches the rebels – his fellow rebels, he reminds himself – bustling by. He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and when an instinct shoots through him to find some way to tidy it, he ignores it. He’s spent years keeping it immaculate, but… immaculate is a word that doesn’t seem to have a place in this life. Gingerly, he feels his bruised face, mentally calculating how long his cut lip and gashed forehead will take to heal, and he realises that his jaw has grown rough from stubble.

He decides to leave it there. It feels, oddly, as if his own body is somehow absorbing the chaos around him, growing to become a part of it, and that – that feels natural. Right.

You have the heart of a rebel, Thrawn told him, at the top of that tower. Now, gazing out at the base, his base, Kallus feels that he’s grown the vision of one as well.

Through rebel eyes, he sees at last just how beautiful chaos can be.

#i just had thoughts about kallus and his character arc #and the things he's learned and still has to learn #so i had to express them #i just love redeemed villains a lot #star wars #star wars rebels #agent kallus #(i live in hope that we'll someday learn his first name)#sky's writing #sw: rebels spoilers

61 notes · View notes

the-element-siren · 8 years ago

Link

Caroline's father is the alpha of a large pack and though she grew up knowing she would always be stuck in Mystic Falls with her pack, she rebelled as much as she could, wanting a normal life, especially the going away to college part. But when she is called back, she comes face to face with everything she left behind, including him.

#klaroline #klaroline au #mates!klaroline #werewolves!klaroline #werewolf!caroline

2 notes · View notes

olivialourdefanfic · 8 years ago

Text

Supernatural FanFic, Installment 5

(Lucifer is back in his cage with Sam and Michael. Sophia and Dean are alone in her house, for the first time in a long time. They had fallen asleep in bed, holding each other, still bloody and bruised. Dean is up now, and his bag is packed. Sophia wakes and looks up at him silently.)

Dean: Sophia, I need to go.

Sophia: You need some time alone?

(Dean is quiet for a long moment, considering his response. He is conflicted, devastated, but his mind is made up.)

Dean: No. I need to never set foot in this house again. It’s over, Sophia. All of it. I’m done. I’m done hunting, I’m done being on the run all the time, I’m done loving somebody I can’t love.

(Sophia’s face is one of defeat, but also of acceptance. She is not trying to fight him at all.)

Sophia(quietly): Dean.

Dean: Please, don’t, Sophia. I need to lead a normal life. I’m going. Lisa wants to be with me, and we can have more kids together. One day, all this will be a forgotten nightmare.

Sophia: We can do all those things together, Dean.

Dean: We can’t. You can’t have kids. With you, the hunt is never going to be over, Sophia. It’s what you’re here for. I never want to deal with anything supernatural again.

Sophia: I guess that includes me, huh?

Dean: I don’t even want to read ghost stories anymore. This life took everything from me- my mother, my father, my brother, my chance at a normal life. Now I have to go get myself a normal life. One that doesn’t include a damn supernatural thing in it. Understand me?

(Without waiting for her to say anything, he leaves the house. The silence in the house following his exit is positively deafening. Sophia is completely still, letting the tears pour from her eyes. A sob escapes her mouth, and then the silence is broken with the sounds of her hysterically crying. Invisible to her, Castiel is watching from a corner of the room, his eyes filled with tears as he watches her complete devastation.)

Castiel: I love you, Sophia.

(Days have passed, and Sophia is still emotionally wrecked, still in bed. Castiel comes to her, sitting beside her and putting an arm over her.)

Castiel: Is there anything I can do?

Sophia: I should be happy. I’m free. My work with the Winchesters is done, isn’t it? Why does it feel like a death sentence?

(Castiel looks tortured as he strokes her hair, wiping her tears.)

Castiel: I wish I knew what to say to ease your pain. The last thing I have ever wanted is to see you hurting. I have never stopped loving you, Sophia. I tried to fight it when I was being punished. I tried to destroy my love for you from the inside out, and I can’t. I love you, always. I can’t take back what’s been done, what I’ve done to you. But I can try to make it up to you. Let me make it up to you, darling.

Sophia: I can’t, Castiel. I can’t have this conversation right now.

Castiel: I understand. You need time.

(Castiel disappears, she is alone again. She sits up in the dark, feeling the stillness of her house. She begins packing things into boxes. She goes downstairs, and it is discovered that her entire house is packed into boxes and covered in plastic sheets. Her room is the last room to pack.)

Sophia(whispering to herself): Here’s to a new beginning. Miss you, Sammy.

(Outside, a figure looks at her through the window from the sidewalk. It is revealed to be Sam, back from Lucifer’s Cage.)

________________________________________________________________________

(Sophia has moved into a new house out of state. She walks into the house, which is completely moved into and furnished, with a beautiful border collie/German Shepherd mix, her new dog. She lets him off the leash and he trots around her, playful and happy.)

Sophia: Who’s a good boy? Who’s my good puppy?! Puppy Denis!!!

(Denis’ ears prick up, hearing something behind him. Castiel is there. Sophia looks up at him and smiles. At Sophia’s reaction, Denis lays down, watchful but relaxed.)

Castiel: You’ve moved.

Sophia: I finally got out of bed.

Castiel: And got into a whole new house in whole new state in a whole different part of the country. It was hard to find you. You warded the whole house against everything.

Sophia: And I got a puppy.

Castiel: What’s his name?

Sophia: Denis.

Castiel: Follower of the Greek god of wine. Odd choice, but I like it. Is he… friendly?

Sophia: As long as I am.

(Castiel offers a hand, and Denis comes to him to accept pets and attention. Within moments, they are besties for the resties. Castiel even smiles at him. Denis licks his hand, yipping at him happily. Sophia smiles, letting her eyes run over Castiel’s body.)

Castiel: Does he like me?

Sophia: Almost as much as I do.

Castiel: I didn’t know you still did.

Sophia: Very much so, Castiel. I never stopped.

Castiel: You told me you couldn’t-

Sophia: That was then. This is now.

(She closes the space between them, kissing him passionately. He kisses her back, pulling her close, pressing his body against hers. He pushes her up against the wall, pressing up against her. She nearly rips his trench coat off, throwing it to the floor. She puts a hand to his cheek, he pulls her leather jacket off. It hits the floor, and he picks her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.)

Sophia: Where’d you learn that?

Castiel: I may have watched a porn…

Sophia: You’re just breaking all the rules now.

(They start kissing again, and he feels her up for the first time, really feels her up, and enjoys it. They look down simultaneously, and he is hard. Sophia smiles at him. He lets her down, unbuckling her belt and yanking her pants down, falling to his knees in the process. He looks up at her, and she runs a hand through his hair. He kisses her hip bones, allowing his lips to brush across her flesh. She smiles at him.)

Castiel: Sophia-

(Sophia looks deep into his eyes. He stands up, running his hands up her body as he comes to eye level with her. Castiel feels electrified, and Sophia growls in his ear.)

Sophia: Don’t stop.

Castiel: I won’t.

(He slides her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor. She yanks him to her by his loose tie, and their lips collide clumsily. She rips his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, one or two hitting Denis in the nose. Castiel entwines one of his hands with hers, holding it up against the wall. The other hand is on her cheek, and their lips are locked again. They make love up against the wall, finally allowing themselves to be selfish and consummate their love. Both of them cry out, and the moment is passionate, intense, and beautiful. Sophia’s magic creates a beautiful moonlit beach scene around them. Castiel thinks he’s dreaming, but he’s not. He collapses against her, climaxing and exhausted.)

Sophia: I love you, Castiel. Stay with me.

Castiel: Always.

Sophia: Forever?

Castiel: Yes. I love you, Sophia.

Sophia: We’ll find a way to be together forever this time, I promise.

Castiel: I believe you.

(Castiel kisses her, still pressing her up against the wall.)

Castiel: I should tell you now.

Sophia: What?

Castiel: You were hurting. Your pain was deafening to me. I could feel it, and I could hear it. I heard your soul crying all the time. You had lost Dean, and you couldn’t bear the pain. I shielded myself from you, but our bond still works. I could hear you crying, even across the ocean, Sophia.

Sophia: What does that have to do with anything?

Castiel: I pulled Dean Winchester from Hell… for you. Because I love you, and your pain was so great. I would have done anything to stop your pain. So I volunteered to pull Dean from Hell, because of the depth of your pain.

Sophia: And now he’s gone anyway.

Castiel: He told me that I should tell you a long time ago. I told him I would when everything was over. It’s over now.

Sophia: Castiel… You went into Hell and dragged another man out of it because of me?

Castiel: Yes.

Sophia: Even though I loved him?

Castiel: I want your happiness, even if it’s not with me, and with the way our lives have gone, I wasn’t sure we could ever be together. So I did it. And I rebelled, because even though I’m an angel, I know my place is with you. I don’t want you to worry about me leaving ever again. I’ll be here. I’m yours.

Sophia: Castiel, I love you.

(Sophia and Castiel are in bed together.)

Sophia: So, how does witch sex measure up to angel sex?

Castiel: I have no idea.

Sophia: Castiel. You’ve never-

Castiel: No.

Sophia: With anyone?

Castiel: In all the time I’ve existed, Sophia, there has only ever been you.

(Sophia smiles to herself.)

(Castiel has a pile of books around him at Sophia’s kitchen table. His hair is messy, as if he has been at this for hours. She puts an energy drink in front of him, running a hand through his hair and kissing him. He pulls her into his lap gently, kissing her again. He caresses her hair, looking deep into her eyes.)

Castiel: I’m not any closer to finding it than when I started 3 months ago, Sophia. Your witch texts are hard to decipher. I know we agreed that I would do this myself as penance for my past actions, but I think I need your help.

Sophia: I know. The fact that you’ve kept at it this long showed me that you’re committed to making this happen.

Castiel: I am, passionately. I have always wanted this to happen, but as long as I only served Heaven, I knew it wouldn’t be possible.

Sophia: Rebelling’s fun, isn’t it?

Castiel: Yes. But terrifying. Does that stop?

Sophia: When you realize that you write your own book, yes.

Castiel: Speaking of rebelling, have you told your mother about us?

Sophia: Why would I do that?

Castiel: She might be able to help us.

Sophia: She wouldn’t. If she sees you, Cass, she’ll kill you. My mother can never find out about us. Not while you’re still an angel.

Castiel: She still hates me that much?

Sophia: My blood line’s law states that we can only marry and breed with our own people. I can’t breed, but the marriage law still applies. It’s stupid and constricting, but it ensures that we don’t mix with humans. As much as we protect them, we are not of them, and we can’t expose them to the danger we face as hunters.

Castiel: But I’m not human.

Sophia: You’ll have to become one.

Castiel: Then we are looking at the wrong book.

Sophia: I can’t make you a human if I don’t have the correct rituals to make you a witch, Cass. I’d be condemning you to live as a human until we found it, and you could be killed by our enemies in the time it takes to find the ritual. Find this ritual first, then we make you human. Once you’re one of us, my mother can’t lay a hand on you.

Castiel: She can’t?

Sophia: Regardless of how you became one of us, you would still be one of us. The punishment for murdering one of our own is to be made human and then left as bait for the things we hunt. My mother wouldn’t survive with just human strength. She’d never risk it.

Castiel: What will happen to you for making me into a witch?

Sophia: Nothing. That’s the beauty of it, Cass. If I change you from a human, they will find me in the right.

Castiel: Why?

Sophia: I will argue that I did it to save your life. You were in danger. I protected you. That you were an angel once, or the circumstances surrounding you being made into a witch, is of no consequence. My mother is a stickler for the rules.

(Sophia is outside walking Denis. Denis is spooked by the woods, and he growls quietly.)

Sophia: It’s okay, boy. Go ahead. It’s just the wind.

(Denis walks in the other direction. Sam seemingly materializes from the darkness of the woods. Sophia is completely shocked. Her face goes ash white and her eyes pop open.)

Sam: Hi, Sophia. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

Sophia: Are you one?!

Sam: Nope. I’m alive. 100%.

(Sophia is terrified. She touches his chest, poking him to make sure he is really there.)

Sophia: I don’t believe it. I cried over you. I mourned you, Sam. You were GONE. You can’t be real.

(Sam pours salt into a bottle of water. He swishes it, drinking it. Nothing happens. He splashes himself with holy water. Nothing happens. Sophia is still in shock. Denis sniffs Sam, and Sam offers his hand to him. Denis licks it, then wags his tail, as if to tell Sophia that Sam is okay.)

Sam: It’s really me, Sophia. I promise.

Sophia: What’s the last thing we said to each other?

Sam: We had sex. You were on top the first time, and you made a thunderstorm that gave way to a sunrise. It was beautiful, Sophia. I told you I loved you, and you said you loved me, too. You told me it was okay. You told me I’d succeed, and that this was goodbye.

Sophia: And yet here you are. How long have you been back?

Sam: Since about two days after I jumped in. I’ve been hunting and looking for you and Cass ever since. He hasn’t answered my calls yet. I don’t know how I came back, but others came back with me. My grandfather is alive now, Sophia. He hunts with family members I’ve never met on the Campbell side.

Sophia: And Dean?

Sam: You two haven’t spoken?

Sophia: No. Look, come inside. Have a beer.

(Denis follows both of them inside, where Castiel is sitting at the table, already drinking a beer. He looks startled at Sam’s presence, even though he is the one who pulled Sam out of the cage.)

Sam: Now I know why you haven’t been answering my calls.

Sophia: He’s real, Cass.

(Castiel stands, hugging Sam. He pulls back and puts an arm around Sophia. Sam realizes that they are together for real now.)

Sam: I’m glad I finally found you. I’ve been searching for months. You really disappeared off the map, Sophia. I had to go nearly door to door from Nashville to find you.

(Sophia motions to the living room.)

Sophia: Go sit down. Cass, why don’t you grab a few fresh beers?

(She kisses Castiel, and Sam’s suspicions are confirmed. Sophia and Sam sit down. Castiel refreshes his beer and pulls out the whole six pack.)

Sam: So you and Cas are together playing house, huh? What happened to you and Dean?

Sophia: Dean and I haven’t seen each other since you jumped in the pit, Sam. The morning after, he dumped me for good. He told me he wanted nothing to do with hunting, nothing to do with anything supernatural ever again, especially me. He left and moved in with Lisa.

Sam: Guess it cleared the way for you and Cass with me gone, too, huh?

Sophia: It was leaning that way even before you jumped in, Sam.

Sam: Then what was what happened between us, Sophia?

Sophia: Beautiful. That’s what it was.

Sam: So it meant nothing to you?

Sophia: No, it did! It meant the world to me, Sammy. I left the house in Nashville because after you were gone, every time I walked into my house, all I could remember was every horrible thing you did to me. I didn’t want to remember you that way, so I moved as far away as I could. I mourned the loss of you, Sammy. I really did. I was destroyed when we lost you. I had to move away just get out from under it.

Sam: Yeah, to Winchester, Massachusetts. I can feel that symbolism in my sleep. Look, you and Cass- I don’t think it’s a good idea.

Sophia: Too late. We’re already happening, Sam. And I love him. I love him so much. I didn’t think I could love him more than I already did.

Sam: Do you still care about me at all?!

Sophia: Of course, Sam! But you were gone. This is just really-

(Castiel enters with the entire six pack already opened. They grimace at his lack of understanding, but start drinking the beers anyway.)

Castiel: You asked for beers?

Sophia: Yes, honey. Usually we don’t open them all at once, though.

Castiel: Sorry.

Sophia: Don’t worry about it.

(Awkward pause as Sam watches the two of them, chugging his beer.)

Castiel: Have you seen Dean?

Sam: No. He’s got his normal life finally. I don’t want to disrupt it.

Sophia: Leave him out of everything as long as possible, Sam. You know how Dean gets.

Sam: I just can’t believe he really gave up on you guys. I never thought he would leave you.

(Castiel looks at Sophia with all the love in world. Sam is jealous.)

Castiel: His loss is my gain.

(Castiel kisses Sophia’s cheek. She smiles painfully.)

Sophia: Cass, before Sam jumped into the pit, he and I had sex.

(Castiel is silent for a moment as he processes. When it sinks in, he nearly chokes on his beer.)

Castiel: Why did you wait this long to tell me? Am I getting in the way of something?

Sam: No.

(Sophia looks surprised.)

Sophia: That wasn’t your tune a few minutes ago when Cass was in the other room.

Sam: I don’t want to screw up anything. I just want to have contact, Sophia. You guys are family. We all need family, okay? I’m not trying to be a home wrecker.

(There is a silence while Sophia considers everything, but it is Castiel who speaks up.)

Castiel: It’s late, and you look tired. You should stay the night. He should have the spare bedroom, Sophia.

Sophia: Of course.

(She looks wary of Castiel’s intentions, but rolls with it.)

(Castiel is eavesdropping from the kitchen as Sam and Sophia argue in hushed tones, though Castiel still hears everything they say.)

Sophia: Did you really mean that, Sam?

Sam: I don’t want to interfere. I just think you and I have unfinished business.

Sophia: Look, I closed the door on you and I, Sam. I sent you off to Lucifer’s cage in one of the best ways possible.

Sam: That’s all it was to you?

Sophia: No. No, it wasn’t.

Sam: Here we go again.

Sophia: Where we go again?!

Sam: Remember the last time you wouldn’t talk about how you felt about me? How well did that go for all of us?!

Sophia: Last I checked, it resulted in that amazing send-off you got, so I’d say pretty well!

Sam: Just tell me you love him enough to go through literal Hell for him. Say it and I will back off forever.

Sophia: If you can back off from caring about someone the way you claim, then you never really loved me, Sam.

Sam: No. But I care more about your happiness than getting what I want.

Sophia: I would burn in Hell for eternity for him, Sam.

Sam: Say no more. It’s done. I will never say anything about you guys again. Okay?

Sophia: Thanks, Sam.

(Castiel doesn’t believe a word Sam has said. He goes upstairs to bed, waiting for Sophia, who comes up mere minutes later. This time, Sam is eavesdropping outside their door.)

Sophia: Do you believe him?

Castiel: No.

Sophia: Something is off about him. After I felt secure that it was really him, he should have hugged me. It was always the first thing Sammy would do, no matter what. It was almost like a password in a way. It was like we had our own secret language. But he’s not possessed, he passed every test.

Castiel: You’re sure something’s not right?

Sophia: I spent six years with him and his brother, Cass. I know when they have irregular bowel movements. I know when they’re sad. I know when they’re sexually frustrated. I KNOW Sam as well as I know you. Something’s not right.

Castiel: We’ll find out, okay? We’ll help him.

Sophia: On another note, did you find anything in those books I gave you?

Castiel: It makes no mention of any ritual, Sophia. I’m starting to wonder if I have to go look for it somewhere else.

Sophia: The only way would be to steal my mother’s books, and you can’t do that. They’re magically protected. If you take them, bad things happen to you until you return them.

Castiel: Does the spell extend to me sitting and reading them? Or do I have to physically take them?

Sophia: I don’t know. Why? What are you thinking?

(Castiel disappears. She sighs.)

Sophia: They always just disappear. I’m cursed, I swear. They’re either damaged, broken men with Daddy issues, hopped up on demon blood with Daddy issues, or angels with commitment issues. I can’t win. Only three men I’ve ever really loved.

(She turns out the light, climbing into bed. As she gets comfortable, Cass reappears, turning on the light again. He is covered in his own blood.)

Castiel: Apparently, it extended to just simply touching the books.

Sophia: Cass?!

(Sophia puts a hand over his heart, healing him within seconds. She pulls him close to her.)

Sophia: That was so stupid, Castiel. I would have gone! The magic wouldn’t have affected me.

Castiel: I’m sorry. I was just desperate. We NEED that ritual so we can move forward, Sophia.

Sophia: There was nothing, was there?

Castiel: I couldn’t find the Book of Shadows. It has to be in there.

Sophia: I can get it. I’ll go, okay? I’ll leave tonight.

Castiel: But you have to travel the same way humans do.

Sophia: It’ll be okay. It’s better if I go on my own. Just explain to Sam that I had to go to Europe unexpectedly. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

Castiel: Sophia… I’ll miss you.

Sophia: Oh, Cass…

(She kisses him, and he pins her down on the bed. He kisses her gently, and she pulls him into her by the shirt collar. He unzips his pants, and she stops him, standing up.)

Sophia: My mother will definitely smell that a mile away, Cass.

(Castiel looks her dead in the eyes, the lust and love in his eyes obvious.)

Castiel: So shower.

(She turns back towards him, grinning. She jumps on top of him, and they proceed to make passionate love before she hops in the shower. She dresses quickly, and leaves. Sam is in his room, trying to sleep. After a few moments, he rolls over and dials a number.)

Monica: Hello?

Sam: Monica? It’s Sam Winchester. Do you remember me?

Monica: Sam?! Sophia said you were gone. She was beside herself. She wept for weeks, Sam.

Sam: Well, I made it out and I’m not sure why. But that’s not why I called.

Monica: Is everything all right? How can I help? Is Sophia okay?

Sam: I’m worried about Sophia. Do you know anyone by the name of Castiel?

Monica: Of course I do. That lying sack of angel vomit. What about him?

Sam: He and Sophia are together. She’s on her way to you right now. She mentioned a Book of Shadows…

Monica: My book of spells. Thank you, Sam. I’ll take it from here.

Sam: I just didn’t want you blindsided. I don’t think she’s seeing clearly.

Monica: When it comes to Castiel, she never will.

(Monica hangs up, and Sam puts his phone down.)

(Sophia enters her mother’s villa, her eyes glowing purple and looking a little less rough around the edges. She knows better than to come to her mother’s home ungroomed and messy. She is dressed almost like a prep school girl. Monica approaches behind her.)

Monica: Daughter.

(Sophia turns around slowly, knowing Monica is behind her and knowing Sam has already alerted her.)

Sophia: Mom. I see Sam already got through to you.

Monica: Were you ever going to tell me?

Sophia: That he was alive?

Monica: Yes.

Sophia: I only just found out right before I left.

Monica: And you traveled all the way here just to tell me?

Sophia: No. I need to see your BOS, Mom.

Monica: And why should I show it to you?

Sophia: I need to see the ritual you performed to make me immortal.

Monica: So you can change that scum sucking angel Castiel?

Sophia: Yes. I love him, Mom.

Monica: I’m sure you do, Sophia.

Sophia: So are you going to show me willingly, or do I need to start showing you the new tricks I’ve learned? Because either way, I am getting that ritual if I have to wreck the whole property to do it. I know you, Mom. I know you knew I was coming. I know Sam called you. And we both know I’ve exceeded you in terms of power and strength. So think about your choice.

Monica: You won’t hurt me, will you, Sophia?

Sophia: You know I want Castiel with me. If he’s an angel, we can’t stay together. If he defects to our side, it’s a win-win.

Monica: How?

Sophia: Back home is a war zone, Mom. Between angels and demons and everything else in between, we’ve forgotten whose side we’re on. Humanity is falling apart, Monica. If we can take Castiel, the angels lose a valuable player. It would be a step in the right direction to restore peace.

Monica: Did he tell you that?

Sophia: No. But he’s willing to do anything he can to be with me.

Monica: You believe him? He lied to you to convince you to join them.

Sophia: And now he’s dying to become one of us, Mom. You do the math on this one.

(Monica is quiet for a moment. Castiel appears next to Sophia. Monica looks impressed.)

Monica: Nice meat suit, Castiel.

Castiel: Ms. Blackwood. I know you hate me-

Monica: You have no idea what I think, Castiel.

Sophia: Monica.

Castiel: Don’t, Sophia. I don’t want to fight. I just want to be with your daughter forever. I can’t do it as an angel. I want to honor the laws of your people, but I can’t in this form.

Monica: Answer me one question.

Castiel: I will.

Monica: Who was responsible for the death of my husband?

(Castiel is silent. Sophia looks confused.)

Sophia: It was a demon, Mom. Remember? You killed him to put him out of his misery.

Monica: I hid the truth from you all these years, Sophia. I didn’t know how to explain it to you.

Sophia: What?

Monica: Tell her, Castiel. Tell her who really killed her father.

(Castiel is silent. His face is tortured, pained. Sophia takes him by the shoulders.)

Castiel: Please.

Sophia: Tell me, Castiel.

Monica: Tell her!

(Castiel starts to cry. Sophia begins to back away. He follows her.)

Castiel: No, Sophia. Please.

Sophia: Tell me it wasn’t you. You didn’t kill my father, did you?

Castiel: It wasn’t like that.

Sophia: I know it wasn’t. I know you, Cass.

Monica: You believe him?!

Sophia: Yes. You didn’t raise a fool, Monica.

(Sophia holds up a bottle of liquid. Monica sniffs it.)

Monica: Gardenia and cinnamon. Herbal truth serum.

Sophia: I’ve been dosing Cass with it every day since we got together. He can’t lie to me anymore, Monica. Please don’t be mad, Cass. I had to know you weren’t lying to me this time.

Monica: He’s responsible for your father’s death, Sophia.

Sophia: No. You are. You’re the one who killed him when you could have healed him. He wouldn’t have been at full strength, but he would have been alive. You’ve been carrying THAT guilt around forever, haven’t you? Just dying to pin it on anyone, aren’t you?

Monica: Castiel-

(Sophia takes him gently by the shoulders, forcing him to meet her eyes.)

Sophia: Tell me everything now, Cass.

Castiel: We thought your father was one of our fallen brothers. If he was, it meant we had to take him and you into our protection. You would be part angel, and a very rare being, indeed. The only of your kind. If he was one of us, you would have had a VERY different life, Sophia. We needed to be sure. We abducted him and interrogated him, but he wasn’t who we thought he was.

Sophia: You thought he was Anna.

Castiel: We did. We were about to let him go, but your people came for him. They mistook us for demons and killed a few of us.

(Sophia looks at her mother.)

Sophia: That’s how you know how to kill angels… And it’s why you taught me.

Monica: They could have come for you.

Castiel: We would never have hurt Sophia, Monica. I would never allow it. If she was one of us, she would have been protected, and so would you. When she was of age, she was free to join us if she chose. We wouldn’t attack her for anything.

Monica: She already had a destiny planned! You had no right to interfere!

Sophia: Oh, my God, shut up! Both of you! Arguing over me like you own me. I made my choice. I chose to become a hunter. I’m not a warrior, I’m just a killer like the rest of my line.

(Castiel looks visibly shaken that she said this. He reaches out for her, but she doesn’t move towards him. Monica watches, shocked at Castiel’s fervency.)

Castiel: Don’t say that. Please never say that. You’re not a killer, my love. You are so much more than that.

Sophia: No, Cass, I’m not. I kill things and I feel no remorse. I killed an innocent human once and I just kept going. It doesn’t haunt me. I heal things, but there’s nothing inside me anymore. I have no emotions. My heart is as cold as ice. I’m empty inside.

(Castiel goes to her, taking her gently by the hands. He looks deep into her eyes, searching them intensely.)

Castiel: Do you love me, Sophia? Do you feel love for me?

Sophia: Yes. I do. It’s the only thing I feel anymore.

(Castiel is passionate with her, holding her face, her hands, taking her by the shoulders. He looks deep in her eyes, trying to get through to her. As he speaks to her, he shakes her by the shoulders a little bit.)

Castiel: Listen to me. You’re not emotionless. You’re weary. Believe me, I know the difference. Because of you, I can feel things. I feel love for you. I feel fear. I feel rage. I feel sadness. We’ve become so close, Sophia. I feel your sadness. I feel everything you keep inside. I know how lost and alone you feel every day, and how you don’t think you’re worth anything- you are. Let me show you. Let me help you. Let me heal you. We can fix that together. Please. Don’t say you’re just a killer. You’re only battle weary. You’ve lost so much, it’s only natural. Sophia. Please.

(Sophia’s tears are flowing. Castiel is holding her cheeks, wiping her tears away, completely ignoring his own. It’s obvious to any idiot how in love and devoted to her he is. Monica is shocked. She leaves the room. Seconds later, she hands Sophia her BOS.)

Monica: You have to make him a human first, Sophia. He can’t be an angel when you make him one of us. It won’t work, and it’ll kill him.

(Sophia looks at her mother.)

Sophia: I didn’t think you’d care.

Monica: Anyone who cares about you as much as I just saw deserves a heads up as to what can kill him.

(Castiel looks at her with respect and gratitude.)

Castiel: Thank you, Monica.

Monica: Be careful. Make sure you do it right. One little slip and both of you could be dead.

Sophia: I will.

(As they are about to leave.)

Monica: And tell Sam to try harder next time. It’s obvious he did this to try and tear the two of you apart. He should know by history alone that nothing will split you two up.

Castiel: If you know that, everyone else will fall in line. Sophia thought you would kill me.

Monica: I can’t now. You showed real, true love for her. I couldn’t take that away from Sophia, especially not after Dean hurt her. If Dean treated you with even a smidgen of what Castiel does, Sophia, I would have let you marry him in a heartbeat. Screw the law.

Sophia: You would have turned your back on the law?

Monica: Dean is a human who can take care of himself. That law was put in place to protect a human who didn’t know better, who had no training or lines of defense, the ones who needed us. You don’t even need to change Castiel, except that in time, Heaven may cut off his power, and he’ll need it to keep going. Did I ever explain our bonding ritual to you?

Sophia: No. We never thought I would consider any kind of long term commitment.

Monica: All it is, is a promise. A choice, that when the choice is yours, you will always choose each other. There’s a ritual, and it binds you two together for eternity. It’s powerful. Sophia, you’re stronger than me. It’s up to the two of you to decide what you want to do, but you won’t have any of our interference. One day, you will take my place as our leader, and you should start thinking about how you want to be remembered among us. Castiel can be a very good ally for us. It may benefit to turn him one day. Anyway, you have my BOS, Sophia. I trust you’ll use it well.

(Without another word, Monica hugs Sophia, and heads upstairs. Castiel smiles at Sophia. He touches her head, and they are home in America. They hug.)

Sophia: I can’t believe how that went. My mother didn’t even want to fight you.

Castiel: You proved to her that you saw things clearly, that your love for me wasn’t clouding your judgment. Have you really been dosing me with truth serum?

(Sophia nods.)

Sophia: I didn’t want to. But it was the only way I knew to make sure I could trust you again. I’m sorry, Cass. I won’t do it anymore.

(He pulls her close, kissing her forehead.)

Castiel: I understand, and I don’t blame you. I would do the same if I had been in your shoes. I’ve hurt you before. Listen. I was serious about what I said. I want to heal your broken heart. You don’t have to walk around with this pain. Let me help you.

Sophia: I don’t know that it can be helped. I’m sorry, Cass, but there’s so much that’s broken me. I just don’t know if any of it can be healed or repaired.

Castiel: Do you trust me, Sophia?

Sophia: Yes.

Castiel: Enough to let me touch your soul?

Sophia: I don’t know, Cass.

Castiel: If I can touch it, I can see what kind of damage is done, Sophia. I’ll be quick.

(Sophia sits down, and Castiel rolls up his sleeve. His arm goes into her chest, and it goes as usual, but Sophia feels nothing. They look at each other, confused. He searches her soul and retracts his hand.)

Sophia: Why didn’t it hurt, Cass? What did you see?

Castiel: You felt no pain? Nothing at all?

Sophia: Nothing. Tickled a bit, actually.

Castiel: Well, your soul is shattered. It’s in pieces within you. It could be why you feel no pain, Sophia. The pieces are too small to feel anything.

(Sophia is silent, processing this. Castiel pulls her into his arms. Sam enters the room.)

Sam: You guys are back.

Sophia: Now is a bad time, Sam.

(Sam throws up his arms, exiting the room. Castiel holds her close.)

Castiel: I can repair it, Sophia. It will take time. You’ll have to be patient. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise. I will heal you, as you’ve healed me.

Sophia: You think you can?

Castiel: I know I can. Let me start.

(He puts a hand on her chest, feeling her beating heart. She smiles at him, and he kisses her. A pulsing light echoes out of her and he helps her sit down. He removes his hand, and she smiles again.)

Sophia: That did something. I feel a little better.

Castiel: We just take a few pieces at a time and put them back together.

Sophia: I need to show you something, Cass.

(She leads him upstairs to their bedroom. She takes off her shirt, and waves her hand over her arms and chest. A spell is lifted, and the scars she has been inflicting on herself are revealed. They cover her chest, inner arms, and even her shoulders. Castiel is shocked.)

Castiel: Sophia… You did all of these to yourself?!

Sophia: It’s the only way I know I’m still alive, Cass. The only time I feel alive is when I’m hurting and when I’m with you. The rest of the time, I’m dead inside. I feel nothing.

(Castiel runs his hands gently over her scars. He runs his hands up to her cheeks, kissing her mouth gently.)

Castiel: We’re going to get you better, Sophia. I am so sorry. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m going to help you.

________________________________________________________________________

(Dean bangs on Sophia’s front door. Sam is next to him. Sophia opens it, and her eyes widen considerably.)

Sophia: What the hell, Sam?! I told you not to bring Dean into anything!

Sam: He wanted to help. He was poisoned. It was that Djinn I was tracking.

Dean: Good to see you, too, Sophia.

(Sophia slaps him with her mind. He smarts a little bit.)

Sophia: Shut up, Dean.

Dean: You gonna let us in?

(She moves aside to allow both boys in begrudgingly. They head to the living room, and she heads upstairs. Cass looks up at her from his desk.)

Sophia: Dean is here. Sam found him and told him everything.

(Cass stands.)

Castiel: Does he know about us?

Sophia: If he doesn’t, he will.

Castiel: Are you prepared for that?

Sophia: I was hoping this would never happen. I really was content to never see Dean again. I’m going downstairs to deal with this. You can stay out of sight if you like.

(Sophia heads downstairs to the kitchen. Castiel follows her, and when she turns from pulling something out of the refrigerator, Castiel pulls her close, kissing her. He backs her up against the counter, and she grips him tight. After a few moments, they become aware that they are not alone. They turn their heads, and Dean and Sam are watching.)

Dean(turning to Sam): You didn’t tell me about this.

Sam: Dude, I debated even bringing you here at all. I just knew that, if you were back, you’d want to see at least one of them.

Dean: Now I wish I didn’t come.

Castiel: Dean.

Dean: Cass. You finally got what you wanted.

Castiel: I apologize if this is hard-

Sophia: Shut up.

Dean: We were-

Sophia: Shut up! You wish you didn’t come, huh? Well, then turn around and go back to where you came from, Dean! You said you never wanted anything to do with demons, or angels, or me EVER again! YOU wanted a normal life. Go back to it.

Dean: I’m gone for a year and not only does Sam escape Hell, my other two best friends set up house like a happy family without me.

Sophia: That’s because we ARE a happy family without you. Best friends, huh? I didn’t know best friends dumped each other and took off after six whole years. You broke me, Dean. You finally, after six long and painful years, broke the last of me. Cass looked into my soul a few days ago. He touched it. I felt no pain. NONE. You know what he said to me? The pieces are so small that I can’t feel anything.

Sam: Oh, no.

Dean: What?

Sam: Prepare yourself. She’s gonna blow.

Sophia: You’re damn right, Sam. Guess what? In six years, I have seen both of you die and come back more times than I can count. I’ve seen the love of my life get murdered by the Devil, walking around in Sammy’s meat suit. I gave Sam the sendoff of a lifetime, and that’s the thanks I get. I finally tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, PLUS I throw in a night of crazy wild bliss, and he repays me by letting Lucifer smash Cass into entrails right in front of me. Splattered across my face. We’ll also ignore the fact that I watched Sam get stabbed to death and I let your father choose your lives over his. Let’s also ignore the fact that I watched you, Dean, get torn apart by hellhounds and dragged into Hell. Let’s also not forget my favorite memories that I still have nightmares about, Sammy-

Sam: No, please.

Sophia: Yes, let’s, Sam. I abandoned my house after you were gone to finally escape walking into my front foyer and seeing images of you trying to rape me. I closed up the house I grew up in, Sam. Then, after the best night of your life, I watched you give permission to the Devil to jump inside you, and you killed Cass.

Sam: It was Lucifer!

Sophia: Regardless. Then, as if dealing with all of that hadn’t killed me enough… Dean finally puts me out of my misery and dumps me, once and for all, for good. You wanna know what he said to me?

Dean: Don’t do this, Sophia.

Sophia: He tells me he wants kids with someone who can actually have them. He tells me my only purpose is to be a hunter. Like that’s all I am.

Sam: Wow.

(Sophia is in a rage now.)

Sophia: Are ANY of you starting to understand why my soul is in pieces yet?

Sam: Crystal clear.

Sophia: And did it ever occur to you two dumb asses that the only reason Cass has a one up on you, is simply because he’s capable of saying “I’m sorry”?!

(The boys are flabbergasted. Castiel seems to be arriving to the party a little late.)

Castiel: I thought it was because we love each other.

Sophia: Yes, of course it is, Cass. But you also showed enough remorse to apologize and attempt to make your wrongs right.

Dean: Sophia.

Sophia: Shut up, Dean. I’m not interested. You should be miles away from here enjoying your “normal” life. You don’t belong here anymore. You can’t have both. You KNOW you can’t have both.

Dean: All I’m saying is, this whole you and Cass thing? It hurts me.

Sophia: I wish I felt bad for you. Instead, it just feels good. I’m glad to know you can still feel anything. I can’t.

(Sophia walks out of the room, slamming the front door behind her. They hear her car start, and Dean runs after her. He hops in the passenger seat as she is driving away.)

Dean: We need to talk.

Sophia: What the hell are you doing?!

Dean: I am completely blindsided by all of this, okay? You are the one thing that makes sense. What happened here?

Sophia: Have you forgotten dumping me and leaving me broken in half a year ago? Cass and I… he’d never walk away like that. He ACTUALLY loves me, Dean. I don’t think you ever did, and you know, that was the hardest part of all.

Dean: I did! I still do. Do you know how hard it was to walk away?

Sophia: You didn’t seem to have much trouble, Dean. Get out of my car!

Dean: Sophia, please. We have to work together again.

Sophia: You don’t belong with us anymore, Dean. You’re out of shape. Go back to your whore.

Dean: Sophia-

Sophia: Go, Dean.

(He slowly climbs out of her car, and she speeds off.)

(Hours later, Sophia walks into the house, drunk. She heads for the kitchen, pouring herself a bourbon and soda. Dean is sitting at the kitchen counter, and she rolls her eyes.)

Sophia: Waiting up for me, “Dad”?

Dean: No. You’re an adult and capable of being a douchebag all on your own. I’m sitting here trying to wrap my head around all of this, Sophia. When did all of this happen? Why did no one contact me?

Sophia: You’re so stupid, Dean. You really are. You don’t even understand that everything you say and do has consequences. For all that whining you did about wanting a normal life, you sure up and ran from it real quick when you found out Sammy was alive. It took you walking out on me for good to realize that I was holding onto a pipe dream of us, Dean. I wanted us to be a real thing so badly. But we were never going to be together for real, because you just couldn’t deal. If you stayed with me, it meant your life was going to be some never ending freak show. Well, guess what? My life has been and always will be a never ending freak show. I don’t know what “normal” is, Dean. And if normal is what you were doing this past year, I don’t want it, because you are soft as hell now. The Dean I knew; no, the Dean I LOVED, was a warrior through and through. He lived for this life and he lived to hunt. I don’t know the Dean sitting in front of me. I’m embarrassed to be seen with you. You can’t have it both ways. You’re either in this life or you’re in that one. None of us want just half of you.

Dean: You don’t even want me around.

Sophia: You’re right. I don’t. My feelings aside, I don’t trust you as a hunter right now. I don’t want to hunt with you. If Sam does, that’s his choice, but I’m flying solo.

(Sophia drunkenly stumbles upstairs into her bedroom. She sees Cass sleeping in the moonlight, and she smiles. She sits down next to him, caressing his hair. He opens his eyes and looks up at her.)

Castiel: I smelled the booze on you down the street, Sophia. You have to be careful.

Sophia: I am, Cass.

(Castiel sits up, shirtless. Sophia is noticeably aroused. Castiel is oblivious. He looks deep into her eyes.)

Castiel: I love you, Sophia. You need to be careful right now. With what I’m doing to help you, you can’t have any setbacks.

Sophia: I’m being careful, Castiel, okay? This is why I didn’t want Dean here. Let me talk to Sam about getting him out of here.

(Sophia stumbles down the hall to the bedroom, where Sam and Dean are sleeping. Dean is awake, but is facing away from them to eavesdrop. Sam is awake, reading about some lore on his laptop.)

Sam: Hey, Sophia.

Sophia: We need to talk.

Sam: Okay. Shoot.

Sophia: I’m trying to think of the kindest way to say this. You gotta get Dean outta here.

Sam: But there’s a case, Sophia.

Sophia: I know, Sammy, okay? But Dean being here… It’s screwing with my head something bad. Cass and I are trying to fix me from the inside out. Dean being here… not exactly good for my insides.

Sam: Do you still love him?

Sophia: In the morning, I need you guys to pack up and go to Bobby’s.

(Sophia goes to the door.)

Sam: Sophia, answer my question. Do you still love Dean?

(Sophia pauses without looking back.)

Sophia: I still love the Dean I met years ago. I don’t love the Dean that left me for some boring life with some boring chick. I’m never getting the old Dean back. I don’t want him back. That chapter is over now. Does that answer your question, Sam?

(Without waiting for a response, she walks back into her room, stripping down and crawling into bed with Castiel. He rolls over in his sleep and puts an arm around her. Once he is sure she is asleep, he rests his hand over her chest and the light comes again. She sighs in her sleep, relaxing even more. Castiel waits a few moments until the light dies out, then goes back to sleep, holding her still.)

________________________________________________________________________

(Sam is re-souled, and he and Sophia are seemingly back to their friendship, except Sophia is fuming angry. Of course, Sam has no recollection of what his time soulless was like, so he is clueless. Sophia is driving with Sam riding shotgun.)

Sam: Sophia, this isn’t the way home.

Sophia: You’re right. It’s not.

Sam: Where are we going?

Sophia: You and I are going to go somewhere and have a nice chat. You have a lot to answer for, Samuel Winchester.

(Sophia parks in a remote house, definitely abandoned. She raises a hand in the air, and throws an enchantment over it to shield their presence and keep away intruders. She brings him in the house. They stand in the living room, eyeing each other.)

Sam: You know I don’t remember anything I did, Sophia. You have to tell me, so I can make amends.

Sophia: Amends are a small start. For starters, you tried to split up Cass and me. You even called my mother in Europe to warn her that Cass was back in my life and that I was looking for her BOS. It backfired on you hard core, since Cass proved his love for me, but the fact that you did it is what I can’t live with.

Sam: Soulless me must have known this me loved you. I’m not saying it was right, but he was trying to protect what he thought was mine and his. He shouldn’t have. You and Cass deserve each other. I have no right to interfere. I won’t do it again.

Sophia: Sam. You were looking to start some kind of war between us. Why?

Sam: I don’t know. I don’t remember it, Sophia, I’m sorry. I know that I just want the best for you now. If Cass is it, then that’s what you should do. I won’t interfere.

________________________________________________________________________

#supernatural #supernaturalfanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #deanwinchester #samwinchester #castiel

0 notes