2. Anonymous said: Why did the puppies cross the road?

  3. OVER 2,000 MINIONS/An explanation


    Also, I must offer my apologies in regards to the lack of writing these past few days. I’ve been terribly sick and unable to do anything besides swallow painkillers and groan so yeah typing for an hour was not my idea of a good time when I was trying not to puke. If I don’t post anything, assume I’ve been immobilized by stomach aches.

  4. Plans for tomorrow


  5. Plans for today

    First of all, yes, I am aware that it is 1 AM in my timezone but hey, I’m still awake so I thought I might as well break down the day for you. I’m facing some difficulties while attempting to write the Crowley smut, but I’m sure I can get to it at some point in the near future. In the mean time, I’d be happy to take a handful of new requests. I’m rather short on Castiel requests not involving the “At First Sight” series (links to all installments except the most recent (to be linked further on in the paragraph) can be found here for mobile minions and on the "The Story Continues…" page), so those would be helpful. All other characters are more than welcome as well. I’m hoping to get some Sammy in there for you all later in the day as well as the continuation of the Dean smut I recently posted (you can find that here, minions, if you’re interested). Hell, if things go well, I may consider writing up the next installment in the “At First Sight” series as well, which would be smut. The last installment of said series can be found here, for anyone interested. So request away, my darling minions, while I get some rest. I’ll see you all later on in the day! Love you all, goodnight.

  6. Got bored so I messed with someone on omegle

    I lied about everything and he just went with it behold our conversation (of course “You” is yours truly (i.e. not a 23 year old named Karen) and “Stranger” is the person who was blessed by my presence) And yes, this is what a 16 year old girl does in her free time when she has writer’s block.

    Stranger: hey

    You: hi

    Stranger: asl?

    You: 23 f us

    Stranger: cool

    You: u?

    Stranger: horny or clean?

    You: u pik

    Stranger: 21 m Canada

    Stranger: horny ;)

    You: im not from canads

    Stranger: that’s ok

    You: but u are thats nice

    Stranger: haha thabks

    You: My name is Karen

    Stranger: mine is stephen

    Stranger: Karen is a sexy name ;)


    You: As in (how it sounds) stef-N or steven


    Stranger: steven

    You: OoooooOOOOoOoO

    You: cute

    You: mmm

    Stranger: you’re nice ;)

    You: youre nice 2

    Stranger: do you swap pics? or only rp?

    Stranger: thanks

    You: no pics im amish

    Stranger: Amish?

    You: that means i dont use technology

    Stranger: ah

    (he has no comment about how an Amish person got hold of a laptop)

    Stranger: so rp?

    You: what does that mean i dont leave the farm very often

    Stranger: oh, it means roleplay

    You: oh wait i know what that means yes let’s do dracula and godzilla maybe but like hot

    Stranger: haha how would that work?

    You: kill a big lizard and you put its skin on and i drink all your blood but like

    You: hot

    Stranger: hot?

    Stranger: as in sexy?

    You: yah like i’ll wear tights and you’ll wear a cowboy hat

    You: maybe like a nun’s habit

    Stranger: haha shouldn’t we be a bit more human

    You: dracula was a human or are you more into like zombies

    You: because they were human until they weren’t

    Stranger: you do realize when I say roleplay I mean sex roleplay right?

    You: but like hot zombie like the intestines make it hard to use your hands or something

    You: yeah i know

    Stranger: haha, then shouldn’t we be actual humans

    Stranger: I don’t think zombies fuck

    You: what about bunnies

    You: but like doctors too

    You: bunny doctors

    You: mmmm

    You: yeah

    Stranger: idk how to be a bunny ._.

    You: just catch a bunny

    You: and watch it for a few days

    You: study its behavior

    You: thats what i did

    Stranger: there are none here

    You: do you have a petco

    Stranger: it would take too long you would already be gone

    Stranger: and none yhatbi know of

    You: ill be by your side until my last breath

    Stranger: that*

    You: just kidding

    Stranger: how?

    Stranger: haha

    You: idk

    You: how do we do this thing

    You: Can we be unicorns

    Stranger: no

    Stranger: lolol

    You: why not? Do you not think that’s hot? :(

    Stranger: idk how to be a unicorn

    Stranger: I’m only good at human

    You: I can teach you *seductive whinny*

    Stranger: so wait we would fuck as unicorn

    You: yeah

    Stranger: how?

    You: with like hooves

    Stranger: tell me? ;)

    Stranger: like the scenario

    (why is he turned on by hoof action I’m so concerned)

    You: Okay hang on it might take me a while to type just get yourself ready

    You: We’d start off in like an enchanted meadow but the air is really steamy and you can see fog and my unicorn is pink with orange sparkles and your ubnicorn is blue with green polka dots and you do the ceremonial hoove dance and I sing a song to worship the old gods and then your horn touches my horn and rainbows happen oooo

    You: hot

    Stranger: would I put my dick in your pussy?

    You: not before the ceremonial chant

    Stranger: what about after?

    You: after that we have to meet my unicorn parents and doing THAT in front of them will hardly impress them and then we go to MacDonalds

    You: we eat seven courses and then we go to the orphanage to bless the sick children

    Stranger has disconnected.


    Stranger: I figured as much lol how bout we do questions you ask me anything I ask you anything sounds good

    You: i spy the mating call of the straight boy

    Stranger: lol

    You: let me guess, it goes something along the lines of Me: favourite colour? You: are you a virgin

    Stranger: nope not one bit

    You: dont lie liars go to hell

    Stranger: I’m not like that I figured good way to get to know each other can I start

    Stranger: what do you drive?

    You: a bike

    You: u a virgin?

    Stranger: no

    You: lol

    You: tru

    You: tru

    Stranger: motorcycle or bicycle

    You: trycicle

    Stranger: lmao awesome

    You: i know

    You: it has tassles


    Stranger: yes I had a dog miszy she was 15 when i put her down I’ve had geckos and a bird

    You: sorry bout your dog

    You: thats RUFF buddy

    You: get it

  7. Anonymous said: Hey Hey swiggity swawesome your really awesome

    Swiggity swinger is that a ring on your finger

    Swiggity swatrimony how ya feel about matrimony

    Swiggity sway why are you running away

    Swiggity swegnant don’t leave me I’m pregnant

    Swiggity sworry

  8. Anonymous said: Hey, I saw you read the fallen series (one of my favourites) did you hear they're making them into movies soon?

    God damn it

  9. The Book Tag Thingy

    I was tagged by the lovely idjits-and-1d to list ten books that have stuck with me or impacted me in a potent fashion. These also represent movies I’d kill to be in as my favourite characters in the novel, so I’ll list the characters in brackets. Here goes nothing!

    1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen [Elizabeth Bennet-Darcy]
    2. Fairest - Gail Carson Levine [Aza of Ayortha]
    3. A Game Of Thrones (A Song Of Ice And Fire series written thus far) - George R. R. Martin [oops it’s already a successful television series] [too late now]
    4. A Series Of Unfortunate Events (entire series) - Lemony Snicket [was already a movie but they kind of sucked] [Violet Baudelaire]
    5. Peaches (entire series) - Jodi Lynn Anderson [Birdie Darlington]
    6. The Fault In Our Stars - John Green [again] [already mad successful]
    7. Harry Potter (entire series) - J. K. Rowling [need I repeat myself again]
    8. Fallen (entire series) - Lauren Kate [Arriane Alter][Luce Price]
    9. Riding Freedom - Pam Munoz Ryan [Charlotte Parkhurst]
    10. Sunrise Over Fallujah - Walter Dean Myers [Marla Kennedy]

    I never tag specific people (I choose not to be exclusive and tag the whole lot of you) so if you’d like to fill this list out yourselves, feel free to do so! You can even message me your answers if you’d like. Over and out, minions.

  10. Written today

    "Soap Suds" - Dean imagine in which the reader and the Winchester in question take time out of their awkward encounters to wash the Impala together, an attempt that ends with soap in every nook and cranny and a good, old fashioned reveal of romantic intent. Fluff.

    NOTE~ I’ll have to post that Crowley smut tomorrow, as it’s far too late for anything but sleep. Once more, if you have any ideas for “At First Sight” (here for links and summaries, here for mobile minions)(the most recent installment, "Northern Lights," can be found linked on the title) please do send them in. I’m looking for anything from baby names (keep them angelic, please), plot lines (preferred, smut or fluff), plot twists and details you’d like to see added to the storyline. Anon or not, I need those suckers. Is anyone interested in an engagement? Marriage? Drop me a line. I already know you’re itching for that Nephilim baby, so I need no more of those requests. Anyone want Ansiel’s head on a spike? Just ask.

    Requests, as always, are more than welcome, as are questions, comments and the likes. I”m off to bed, minions! Sweet dreams!

  11. Soap Suds

    Dean fluff requested by soulofawinchester! "Could you possibly do an imagine where the reader and Dean work on the Impala together, washing her, and end up getting in a huge water/soap fight that ends with them finally kissing? They’ve been crushing on each other for months, and always snap at each other and make jokes at the other’s expense out of embarrassment or nervousness. The reader has trouble expressing her feelings a lot, but their water fight helps that along. Hope that’s specific! :) Thank you, your writing is wonderous!" Look they’re so nice. Hope you like it!

    Your attention was torn from a newspaper article celebrating the life of yet another nameless, faceless woman from the suburbs by the sharped sound of Dean’s knuckles rapping on your open bedroom door, your eyes lifting from the forced smile of an exposure-dappled yearbook picture to the tentative face of the eldest Winchester, his body straightening from his hunched, cautious stance as he strolled over your threshold to greet you. His hands dove into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders raised in minor discomfort, this emotion most likely derived from having disturbed your work, his usual weightless confidence deserting him as he meandered in front of your bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows, your mind racing against every urge to blush a violent crimson (as you were so prone to doing in his presence) or sweat or stare too long into those emerald eyes, ignoring the quickening pulse as it beat tribal drums into your ears. And Lord, was that chieftain goin’ for it. Dean exhaled, smiling down at you from his staggering height, and you had the delight of watching those gemstone eyes focus on your research, brow furrowing in concentration as he read over your notes decorating the margin, intellectual chicken scratch seeming to impress him, his forehead smoothing as he grinned.

    "Hey, I was thinking I might rescue you," he mumbled. Out of instinct, you replied with a cutting comment, stating that you were no damsel, that he’d seen you decapitate a nest of vamps, and that you were the last woman in need of rescue, all while he rolled his eyes. A delectable sight, you had to admit. ”Cool it, Little Miss Cutthroat. We can head out and wash Baby. You know, unless you’d rather stay in here and, uh…” he removed a hand from his pocket, sliding his palm over his neck and into his hair, fingers scratching through the strands as he fought for his wording, your heartbeat running rampant. “read about… dead… chicks.” He winced, clearly unimpressed with himself, driving his hand back into a denim cave, his eyes locking with yours. You grinned, pushing yourself into a sitting position, your hands melting into the duvet as you forced yourself away from the comfort of your mattress and the boredom of pointless research over women you’d never find alive anyway, shuffling towards the door, your cheeks blazing against your will as Dean motioned for you to exit first. He followed you outside of the strangely spacious off-the-highway condominiums, his feet padding into the drying autumn grass behind you, the sound of crumbling blades crunching in your wake as you strolled towards the glimmering classic car. You squinted at the obsidian exterior, feeling the skin on your forehead crumple in confusion as you absorbed the grime-less state of the vehicle, Dean passing beside you, his arm catching your shoulder in his stride, a playful bump on his way towards the side of the maintenance building, his form squatting as he twisted a latch and unraveled an impressive length of hose from its mount on the steel siding. He trailed the cord through the yellowing grass, nodding his head in the direction of the trunk. “I’ve got some soap and old sponges in the back there, beneath the crucifix. There should be some rags wrapped around the handles of the, the machetes.” he instructed, his finger digging about through the air as he searched the storage in his brain before speaking the locations of the items in question. He reached into his back pocket, lobbing you his keyring, metal shards tinkling as they fell through the open air, landing in your palm with an audible thud, your legs carrying you to the back of his Baby. Opening the trunk, you found every article as he described them, hauling a bottle of soap in one hand, the frayed rags and withered sponges in your other. The keyring was safely nestled in your own back pocket, Dean holding his hand high for the bottle of soap as soon as the trunk slammed shut.

    He had half the contents of the bottle emptied all over the roof of his car, the other half residing in a rusted pail he scavenged from the condo staff’s janitor closet, the soap dribbling from the sides of the automobile, amber droplets harvesting sunlight, recycling the rays to produce the citrus-scented sparkle you’d known to love in almost all generic cleaning products. You handed him a shriveled sponge, his fingers ghosting over yours as you exchanged products, his eyes flickering to yours briefly before plunging the material into the suds and water, the hose creating a puddle of lukewarm liquid about your feet, Dean stepping out of the way as you followed suit, your hold on the sponge expanding as it absorbed the water, the wet sound of Dean slapping his own cleaning device onto the windshield accompanied by a spray of fluffy soap onto the back of your thighs. As you turned, Dean shook his sponge, attempting to rid it of excess soap, a glob of foamy froth adhering itself to your shin. Dean turned at your gasp, his eyes dropping to the damage he had unintentionally done. Your jaw, unhinged, slammed shut, your face resuming the lobster hue Dean was far too comfortable with as you reached to swipe the suds from your legs. As soon as your hand made contact with your skin, his sponge painted a strip of foam down your arm, ending at your wrist.

    "You’ve got a bit…" he chuckled, biting him lower lip to keep from chuckling, his shoulder shaking with his silent laughter. You pursed your lips, clenching your fist around your sponge as your arm swung through the air, sending a stream of bubbles onto Dean’s chest, the hunter scoffing in surprise, his hands diving for your wrists, face scrunched up in giddy aggression, your left hand ducking out of his hold as he squeezed his sponge over your head, your hand scrambling for the hose. The soap suds leaked over your brow as you aimed the hose at Dean’s face, the hunter spluttering while you laughed, the acidic taste of chemical cleaner dancing over your tastebuds while the two of you grappled for power, Dean’s hold slipping on you, dragging the both of you to the ground as he toppled, his hand snagging the bucket on his way down. You found yourself in a puddle of suds and mud, the carnage of your battle coating your legs and splattering your arms up to your elbows, your abdomen knotted as your body coiled around another bout of giggles, Dean wiping at his eye with the purest portion of his soapy finger. Your arm was pinned between the bend of his elbow and his torso, his face dangerously close to yours. You settled your laughter, your breathing hiking as his own chortles dimmed to silence. He inched closer to you, the hand unoccupied with holding his body off of the ground (as well as locking your own supporting arm in place) reached for your cheek, smoothing a stripe of fizzing foam along your cheekbone, the wind battling too cool your skin where the water had touched it, fighting against the heat now rising in your cheeks. Dean’s hand slid behind your neck, pulling your face to his, his eyelashes fluttering once before sealing his eyelids shut, his lips ducking to yours the last sight you captured before your own eyes flickered shut, lips awaiting the touch of his. His mouth moved gently against yours, his lips tugging on yours, securing you to his body, his hand tangling into your hair. The tribal drums had transformed into the deafening tolls of wartime gongs, your pulse sporadic and excitable as Dean’s lips moved against yours, his head tilting into the crook of your neck, his lips ducking to the sliver of skin beneath your jaw, your hands moving to his chest. He moved away from your skin, his eyes glimmering like faceted jewels, his lips reddening from the contact, pulling into a smile regardless. "Glad to see you’re game," he chuckled, your eyes rolling in their sockets at his cheapening remark, your cheeks dragging the corners of your mouth upwards on their own accord as you stood from your position on the ground, your head reeling. Dean joined you, his hands wrapping around your waist before your could outrun his reach, spinning you into his chest before backing you into the hood of the Impala, his cheeks rosy, a chilling dampness seeping through the back of your shirt.

    "You never asked if I was game," you countered, "Don’t act so surprised. I’ve been nothing but sheep eyes at you for months." He nodded his head to the side, making a sound of agreement, your hand slapping against his chest. He laughed, leaning over you, your spine flush against the hood of his precious Baby, Dean’s lips covering yours with the same tenderness, though this time his kiss was piked with passion, his tongue meeting yours. With each separation, he spoke.

    "So," he breathed, latching onto the hollow between your collarbones, "I guess," he whispered, moving skyward along the center of your neck, "this means," his lips found the corner of yours, your hands tangling in his hair, wrenching his mouth to meet yours,  "we’re a thing." he concluded, mumbling against your lips before deepening his intensity, your mind fogging as you laughed against him, suds dripping down your legs to freefall to the dampened earth below.

  12. Getting started!/Employing the minds of the minions/?

    Looks like there’ll be some Dean fluff coming your way tonight! It’s a bit difficult to focus through my usual exhaustion, but I’m hoping to stay awake long enough into the night to post some Crowley smut after! I’ve been asked to mark where the smut will begin in these types of imagines, so the smut warning (previously WARNING~ SMUT) will now appear as WARNING~ SMUT p3 to notify that the smut begins in the third paragraph of the imagine. If you believe this will not suffice and/or is too difficult to understand, I’d be happy to hear your ideas!

    I have a favour to ask of all of you while I write. I’ve received a handful of requests in regards to the Castiel series “At First Sight” (links to each installment can be found on the "The Story Continue…" page as well as on this post for minions operating by mobile device) but their focus is on the events taking place when the reader becomes pregnant, which will not happen for at least two more imagines. If you have any ideas for the next imagine (smut) or the imagine after that BEFORE ANYTHING BABY RELATED GOES DOWN, please send it in! I’m accepting:

    • A request for the next installment (smut, the outline of the smut, etc)
    • A request for a future installment (any plotline including whoever you’d like and whatever you’d like)
    • Baby names (as we’re going to get to that eventually)(please keep it angelic)(No “Jessica” or “Stacy” or “Brad”)(gotta keep that lineage in check)
    • An idea on how Ansiel dies/gets away safely, depending on your level of loathing for the antagonist
    • Minor details or events you would like to take place (i.e. engagement rings, matrimony, flying, Sam and the reader discussing whatever you may want, etc)
    • Plot twists (i.e. Castiel is kidnapped, Dean or Sam is murdered to force the reader into cooperating, angelic ransoms, Ansiel’s backstory, etc)

    Also, if you haven’t yet read the installment that was posted last night, titled "Northern Lights," I’ll shamelessly plug the link for you all on the name of the imagine. I’m rather proud of it so pLEASE. Also, for it to be continued, the imagine must reach at least twenty notes.

    I will also be answering any questions involving the series, sent in anon or from a personal blog. If you’d like to know anything, from vague plans for the future to who Ansiel is based on, drop me a line. I’ll be checking in while I’m writing. Request away, my minions! Send me an ask, fanmail, or reply as an answer to this post and I’ll be sure to see it! Thank you!

  13. Written today

    "If The Tent’s A Rockin’" - Dean smut (er… kind of?) in which Dean makes the reader jealous while on a wendigo hunt, their confrontation going down in Dean’s tent. The first half of a smut continuation? I just… I rambled, guys. Had to cut it short. IF you’d like to request a continuation where we get to “the good stuff,” feel free to do so.

    "Northern Lights" - Fourteenth installment of the Castiel imagine series “At First Sight” (which can be found on the "The Story Continues…" page as well as here (for mobile minions)) in which the reader and Castiel spend the night in recovery form their separate wounds, discussing the past events involving Ansiel and Castiel’s feathers. Fluff.

    NOTE~ All requests are welcome, of course, but I am in dire need of two specific types.

    1. Continuation ideas for the next installment/future installments of “At First Sight,” whether it be a minor detail, a name for their future child, a plotline or event you’d like to see. Send those in, anon or not, as many as you can think of.
    2. Regular Castiel imagines. I’m running low on anything that isn’t involving Sam or Dean, so spam me with as many DIFFERENT Cas ideas you can! I’m sure those who haven’t read “At First Sight” would like a regular Cas imagine. Gotta keep the scales balanced.

    I plan on writing more tomorrow, so any requests unlike those I’ve specifically asked for are also welcome. A Dean imagine (fluff) is coming soon, as is a Crowley imagine (with hella smut) so stay tuned for that tomorrow or later in the week! That’s all for tonight. Sweet dreams, my minions!

  14. Northern Lights

    Fourteenth installment of the Castiel imagine series “At First Sight” (you can find all installments listed, linked and summarized on the "The Story Continues…" page as well as on this link for minions operating from mobile. Requested by anon. "For the next at first sight, what about if Cas and the reader are up at night talking to each other about Cas’s new wings and how he saved the reader? Just really relaxed fluff and talking a lil bit about Ansiel? Thanks!" Requests are always welcome if you’d like to see this continued. Send in the outline of what you’d like to see happen next and I’ll see to it! Odds are, the next imagine will be smut-based, so those types of requests are super-duper appreciated. Hope you like it!

    Your stomach was buzzing with a dull ache as your body mended itself as best it could from the would-be fatal attack, your insides churning both with pain and with content, Castiel’s fingers twining with yours, his calloused palms smoothing against your own as he ducked his lips to the crown of your head, the gemstone beginnings of feathers glistening softly in the lack of illumination. Your eyes marveled at the unfamiliar sight before you, shards of iridescent glass, as they appeared, hanging like diamond droplets from the canvas of the angel’s wings, shattering bursts of colour about your bedroom walls, Castiel’s every movement shuddering through the waves of crystalline down. Each pulsation of the wings created a new illusion against the features of your room, the feathers recently grown long enough to trill about in a simpler way than you were accustomed to, their song knocked down to the same handful of notes, all of which were on the higher end of the scale, Castiel’s breath displacing strands of hair as his wings reached outward, his shoulders shifting as he adjusted his position to better fit your head onto his chest. You sighed as your body molded to his, feeling the edges of your injury smart at the deflation of your organs as it pulled your skin downward. The wound felt… ashen somehow, as if you had been burned by the blade as it dove through your body, the memory of Ansiel’s hands on the dagger flashing before your mind, your limbs stiffening instinctively as the thought racked your mind. Of course, the tightening of your abdomen brought about another round of sharpened discomfort, your eyes screwing shut. The back of Castiel’s fingers smoothed over your cheekbone, his whisper hushing you, wings melting through the air to sigh against your skin, a dim yellow glow dancing from the tips of his young quills as they grazed your stomach, your skin warming beneath their gentlest of touches. Your eyes, torn open by the allure of the sight before you, devoured the effect of the light Castiel had created, watching the prisms multiply from feather to feather, the walls drenched with half a million shades of gold. Your body unraveled at his touch, his lips pressing once more into your hair, the glow dying off, surrendering the room to the darkness once again, the timid twinklings commencing as the tension deserted your being.

    "What are you thinking about?" he whispered, his voice low so as not to wake the men sleeping within the echoing bunker walls, his tone curious, inquisitive, and tender, each word laced with affection as one might lace a fine wine with poison; subtle in all it’s potency. Your tongue darted over your lips, a shiver racing along the vertebrates of your spine as the image flashed before you once more; the handle of the blade splattered with the crimson of your blood, Ansiel’s hands beneath yours, your biceps straining against his impossible strength, your attempts to push his blade away from your unarmored body ineffective, your resistance proving fruitless. The shriek of his wings voicing his horror, of Sam and Dean’s voices breaking the strain in the air, shouts causing the silence to recoil like a wire under stress. Castiel’s hand tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his wings moving in the air to balance the shift of his weight as he pulled the both of you into a position more suitable for conversation, mindful of your wound as he moved you, feathers ducking to your body to press and push you into his arms, your back supported by his arm, your bottom in his lap. His wings huddled around you, blocking the rest of the room from your view, the impossibly soft feathers reaching out to stroke any part of you they could, ghosting along your cheeks and chin, running down the bridge of your nose, flattering your hair like an overly affectionate aunt on Christmas day. From your new seat, your were able to see the angel’s face, his sapphire irises softening as they met your eye, his lips parted over his breath, the scent of honey washing over your face as he exhaled. Your suffering must have been written across your forehead, as you knew he wouldn’t sift about in your thoughts, and it was obvious he knew the agenda of your mind. "He will not harm you again, Y/n. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe." he breathed, his palm cradling your cheek. Another pang of raw pain shot through your body from the source at your stomach, a sunburst affect, leaving your fingertips tingling. Your feather cocoon lit itself ablaze with gentle light, banishing the throbbing you felt in your core.

    "I don’t doubt you, Cas… but he already managed to hurt me. We did everything right and he drove an angel blade into my stomach." Castiel flinched at your words, though their intention was not to be harsh. The truth will always sting, no matter how delicately the words are placed. You reached a hand to his, pressing his palm to your face, his wings shuddering at the contact, new feathers bristling against your bare arms before settling closer still to your skin. "Thank God he’s headstrong, or we wouldn’t be here." Castiel nodded, his mouth turning up at the corners, your comment humorous despite the morbid aftertaste. Had Ansiel stayed to ensure you perished instead of believing the job had been finished, that you had been finished, Castiel would have never had the chance to heal you… to an extent. Castiel nodded, pressing his lips to yours briefly. Which sparked another thought… "Cas, how did you-" you began, voice mingling with his, his voice completing your thought, easy as breathing.

    "Heal you?" his eyes broke their hold, brow knotting as he scanned the budding feathers growing along his wings. "I hadn’t known the effects of fallen feathers. I only knew the aftermath, seeing angels weeping in Heaven, their wings bare of any growth. It is unheard of that the feathers fall and the soulmate lives." he glanced back at you after surveying the damages to his hardware. The burns and gashes were healing over, another round of new feathers popping up over the scars he had endured. "This is why my feathers are able to grow back." He smiled, eyes glimmering like the sea. "Thank you, for that." His wings flexed as he rolled his shoulders, his hand dropping to your neck, craning your head towards his. He laid his forehead on yours, breathing in the cent of you, his eyes closing in bliss, though his tightened hand exhibited his pain. "Believe me, I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm. Ansiel will sooner have a blade through his heart than put you in danger again." You tilted your head, pressing your lips to his, lights shining from beyond your closed eyelids, colours seeping through your skin to brand themselves into the fabric of your mind. His wings let out a whispered peal of song, rustling around you as he deepened the kiss, his arms winding around your shoulders as he pulled you to him, his promise welded shut by the passion flowing from his mouth to yours.

    His hands roamed your back, wary of moving your torso, his touch firm despite his fervent passion, his fingers trailing up your spine before tangling in your hair at the base of your skull, moving your head to better mold to his mouth, his tongue darting along your lower lip, his wings sighing into the comfort of your touch, the ease of your embrace, the very presence of you after everything was a hairlength from being torn from them. You parted, eyes swimming in the rainbow hues Castiel had cast against both the room and his own features, sparkling lights curving around his cheekbones and flitting over his eyelids, his eyelashes casting shadows upon his cheeks, the pad of his thumb smoothing over your lips, a smile adorning his. He crushed you to him once more, your stomach tingling, your giddy joy overpowering the subdued agony, butterflies beating their wings against the ragged injury, banishing the pain. Castiel’s tongue parted your lips, stroking over your own as his hands caressed your face, wings holding you to him like a harness, the stunted feathers prickling into your flesh in a most delightful way. After parting once more, and as you mind cleared of the fog the angel always brought in the wake of his embrace, you snuggled into Castiel’s chest, settling for a night of watching the fractals expand and fracture, hanging in the air like crystals dripping from a chandelier. You laid your head on the angel’s shoulder, the warmth of his body and weightless hold of his wings lulling you to sleep, your ears ringing with the song of his feathers as they grew.


    Looks like we’ll be having smut for the fifteenth installment, after I finish writing the fluff I’ve got going for the fourteenth. As always, I could very much use plotline requests, whether it be a simple detail you’d like thrown in there (could be a few words, I won’t mind for continuations) or sentences. Please, while I’m writing and if you have the time/inspiration/ideas, send in as many different plotline requests as you can for future installments of “At First Sight” (again, you can find all previous installments of the series on the "The Story Continues…" page and on this masterlist post for mobile minions). Send them in as if they were normal requests, just make sure to define that your ideas are meant to be used for the series. Seriously. I need those suckers. After writing the fluff, all I have is pregnancy imagine requests and we may not go there just yet. Send in;

    • A request for the next installment (smut, the outline of the smut, etc)
    • A request for a future installment (any plotline including whoever you’d like and whatever you’d like)
    • Baby names (as we’re going to get to that eventually)(please keep it angelic)(No “Jessica” or “Stacy” or “Brad”)(gotta keep that lineage in check)
    • An idea on how Ansiel dies/gets away safely, depending on your level of loathing for the antagonist
    • Minor details or events you would like to take place (i.e. engagement rings, flying, Sam and the reader discussing whatever you may want, etc)
    • Plot twists (i.e. Castiel is kidnapped, Dean or Sam is murdered to force the reader into cooperating, etc)


    I’ll get back to writing that fluff for you all. Thank you for voting!