Okay, I’ve got several Gency fanfics that I’m working on right now, but these two have been running through my mind all day and I finally wrote this little piece because I was pretty sure I wouldn’t know peace until I did. Anyways, here’s my Widowmaker and Reaper feelings. (Psst, kill me before these feels do)
Oneshot. Dark. Angst. Widowmaker. Reaper.
Reaper is darkness and shadows. Widowmaker is cold and fast
and accurate. Talon is the only thing they have in common. They both do their
is emotionless, but sometimes, Reaper hears soft noises from her sleeping
quarters. Almost like quiet hiccups trying to be muffled, or quick breathing
that’s too harsh.
an enemy to Overwatch, swearing revenge and destruction to anything that
belongs to it. Widowmaker knows his anger, but sometimes, she’ll see him
standing outside, right under the moonlight. His from unstable and giving off
black wisps as he stares up at the black ceiling of the world. He doesn’t make
a sound, but she can see his hands tremble.
anything but workers for Talon. Doing their job, shooting their guns, washing
the blood that splattered on them at the end of the day. They both don’t know
tears, or forgiveness, or sadness. They don’t crumble apart.
dark missions, where Widowmaker can’t quite get the red stains off her
headgear, or Reaper can’t seemed to be a physical being for more than a minute
at a time, they find a dark hallway. Usually right between their sleeping
quarters, where no one dares further into and disturb Talon’s best killers.
Where all the lights are off, and the reflection of the moon shines off the
hard floor. The clocks usually reading three AM. The time to guarantee solitude.
Gabriel will go there, sitting on the dark floor. Their backs against the right
wall with him being closer to the window and the starlight. Gabriel’s legs bent
so he can rest his arms on his knees (When he’s not flicking between a smoky
mass and a solid form) and Amelie will just stretch her legs straight and close,
sometimes crossing her ankles is she so desired. They don’t touch, they never
do. Even when the Vodka is passes between their hands, their fingers never
overlap. The liquid never sees cups, only desperate lips in the dark. The clear
bottle letting both see how much they have left of the clear liquid.
be something like friends. Though, neither would ever let that thought cross
their minds. Never once has a word of comfort or support been exchanged between
them, yet, they both know the struggle. They both feel that certain death
inside of them, though it takes different forms. On the nights when they can’t
feel anything but the numbness and the pain. On the missions where the blood
never seems to quiet disappear down the drain. Those moments where they get a
glance in a mirror at themselves and they have to blink several times because
they can’t recognize that face staring back. They always find themselves here,
usually just one or the other signaling with a newly bought liquor bottle out
in plain sight. They know to head here, and they always do. As they stay quiet,
and keeping draining that bottle, they both find the smallest form of comfort they
does not feel emotion. She does not feel anything. Yet, sometimes, she
remembers a certain face, a ring, a grand bedroom, a knife. She feels the
liquid run from her eyes, even touching her cheeks in surprise, but she does
not feel it. This is what gives her somewhat of a sense, a sense of something
being wrong. Her body tells her she should feel something and yet she still
out for revenge. Destruction and death all he has become. Yet, sometimes, he’ll
feel his body lose control. He won’t have a solid form for many hours, just existing.
A ghost. When he’s stuck in his smoky state, his mind runs through past lives.
A poster boy, a little girl who looked just like her mother, the young medic
and cowboy, a mission that went well, happiness. Yet, he always shuts down at
that last thought, letting himself go just like his form.
nights, Amelie and Gabriel meet up at three AM in a dark hallway with a bottle
of liquor. Silence is all there is as they sit side by side, their arms almost
touching, and fingers never overlapping as the Vodka gets passed. They find a
little softness to the sharp edge they both stand on. The knowledge that the
other isn’t alone in the numbness and agony. That someone else is dying inside
too. Maybe… just maybe… they feel comfort that they’re not drowning in the
endless suffering either.
nights, they could be something like friends.
Gabriel zaps back to the 80′s to a night disco club.
Word Count: 840
The white ceiling of your room started to seem interesting after 1 hour of trying to figure out what to do to cure your boredom.
Sam and Dean really had to left you out of this one…Of course they did…
“Careless Whisper” from George Michael starts to play in your radio and the whole room fills immediately with music what makes you jump a little bit out of the bed. You let out a big exasperate and lazy breath as you sit up straight on your bed and walk up straight to your radio turning it off.
The music only shuts for 5 seconds because it starts to echo through your room again. Annoyed, you look around for the source of the music, not being nowhere near successful. As the chorus replays, your door slowly opens and a hips-swinging Gabriel enters your bedroom.
“Good Afternoon to my Honey Bunch!”
“Hello Gabriel.” you say stepping closer to him. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”
“Sweet thang… Imma zap you out of this boredom.” he says pointing his finger to his own face with a big grin.
“Yeah, good luck with that!” you reply sarcastically. He just smirks at you what makes you walk away into another division of the house but when you notice you’re not in your house anymore. You’re not even sure if you’re even in the same country.
You looked down at yourself and saw you were wearing a pair of sparkly green catsuit, paired with some shiny silver platform shoes. On your hair you could feel some crazy “Farrah Fawcette curls” going on.
“Florida,1983, Disco Club, Friday night to be exact.” you hear from the ever-so-familiar voice from behind you. There stood Gabriel:In an open-necked button-down shirt,long sleeves in a bright red made of glossy fabric. The top few buttons undone, exposing his chest and, of course, the collar of the shirt popped up. His bottoms consisted of blue flared trousers paired with a pair of 3" platform shoes. He didn’t look bad.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” he said making you realize that you’d been staring at him, his body, this whole time. “I can read your thoughts. Keep that in mind. And don’t try to avoid the dirty stuff,” he looks at you with the biggest smirk on his face “they’re my favourite.”
Shortly after that he snapped his fingers and “Freedom” by George Michael starts to echo in the club. With a step he scoots closer to you offering his dance as to ask for a dance. “I know you love George Michael.”
You accept his hand and with two small steps you’re chest to chest with him. “I don’t know if I do.”
He slides his and to the small of your back at the same time as you slide yours’ to the back of his neck, both of your free hands intertwining in the air. As the beat started to get stronger, he swooped you to the middle of the dance floor twirling you at every chance he got.
He would push you away, grabbing your right hand just so you could twirl back to his embrace. And when that happened your head would fall back due to the intense laughter escaping your lips. And when your head returned to it’s position you would notice Gabriel looking at you with a big smile on his face.
There was a moment there. A moment where everyone else but you two blurred in the background. A moment where you were the only ones in this dance floor. You could’ve sworn that for an instant he was leaning in. But before you could process it, the music finished and everyone came back into your vision field.
“We should get back. Sam and dean might already be back.” He said pushing a little away, just enough so your chests weren’t touching anymore.
He snapped his fingers and you were back in your room, in your yoga pants and Marvel tshirt. Gabriel looked at you, his smile was now smaller but still there, small enough so you could see it. He looked you up and down.
“Well,… Good night Honey Bee” he tried his hardest to pretend to still be as cheerful as in the beginning of the night. But you weren’t buying it. You knew that was about what happened in the disco and you just couldn’t leave it like there. You had never seen Gabriel being so fake. NOT IN A BAD WAY. You just knew he was faking his current happiness.
“Hey, Gabe…” you said as he was walking out of your room. He stopped and turned around. You walked quickly to him, grabbing his collar and smashing your lips into his’ in such a hungry way. He was shocked at first. You could tell by the way his hands didn’t went right away to your waist. But he quickly gave in grabbing the back of your head so you could you could deepen the kiss.
The kiss was short, and when you too pulled back you just looked at each other.
This could just be me, but it really bothers me when a ship is forced on an actor/set thereof. Like, I’m right there with you, I have my armada, I pray for cannons, I feel you. But I think it crosses a line when the actors involved get bombarded with ship questions when they clearly want to remain impartial. And I mean, they’re human freaking beings too. It’s like someone coming up to you and a friend of yours and heckling you for like three hours EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. about how you two should make out and reenact all the fics they’ve made about you and how you need to just accept that the way they’ve decided your fate is the way it is. Even if you’ve already got your own life and you don’t jive that way. By all means, continue shipping. I know I will. Write those fics, imagine your AU in all its glory. But holy crap, these people have lives and stuff too. It’s rude, it’s disrespectful and kinda disgusting to force it down their throats.
Like, I just wanna go up to the actors and share a meal, or a beer or something and ask them about the mundane shit in life (goals, aspirations, thoughts on human rights and the cost of being a human being in 2016). I live for the deep conversations about the meaning of life, for the moments when people think no one is watching and you can catch a glimpse of their souls when they take a pause. Not the small talk, no depth bullshit. And certainly not the kind of talk that makes people overly uncomfortable about themselves or the company they keep.
Because that’s the same kind of decency I expect from other people.
Summary: (AU) Crossroad is a small, calm and very religious town where Lucifer grew up and where Castiel moved a few years back.
Lucifer can’t stand the church anymore and Castiel doesn’t understand why the blond turned bad and why everyone hate him so much. He can’t help but investigate even if everyone warned him about Lucifer.
Pairing: CastielxLucifer (it’ll be updated once later on - LIKE IN TWO CHAPTERS, SPOILEEEER)
Characters: (it’ll be updated every time a new character appears) Lucifer, Castiel, Gabriel, Alfie, Zachariah, Priest!Gadreel, Ellen, Jo (mentionned), Michael, Bobby (mentionned), Bartholomew
Warnings: Flash back about Lucifer’s past. Bullying and humiliation.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
A/N: Big revelation in this one guys, I hope you will enjoy the chapter. Be prepared to know the cause of a lot of troubles !
I also wanted to thank you guys for all those feedbacks. I wasn’t expecting such a good reaction and I can’t thank you enough for that! I had a big writer block during a month but my inspiration is really coming back thanks to you and I’ll be able to continue the story without any problems, I stopped in the middle of chapter 14 but I can write again thanks to you guys.
So I’m really glad you enjoy it, I would like to publish faster but I want to respect my schedule. Your kind words are really touching, you guys are so nice with me ! Thanks again and enjoy. :)
Imagine: Meeting Sam, Dean, Cas, Crowley, Lucifer, and Gabriel for the first time, and them not being able to figure out what type of supernatural being you are.
(Reader insert, gender unspecified)
Sam, Dean, and Castiel had just captured a…creature…that they thought had been murdering humans for the past few days in New York City. They knocked out the creature, brought it to the bunker, and detained it with everything they had. They’d locked the creature up in their demon dungeon. That creature was you.
The reason I’m using the word creature and why the boys were using everything they had to hold you was because they had no idea what the hell you were. All they knew was that you looked human.
They checked out the case because every murder looked like it was being performed by a different supernatural creature. One by a vengeful ghost, one by a werewolf, one by a vampire, and the list went on. They had thought that a bunch of monsters had band together to mimic some twisted version of ‘The Monster Squad’, but had come to the conclusion that they were wrong once they came across you. They had mistaken you for a witch, and tried to take you down, but you defended yourself with nearly every supernatural power in the book. Castiel finally knocked you out by surprising you from behind. A little anticlimactic, if you ask me.
Anyway, the boys were currently questioning you.
Dean punched you in the face while Sam and Castiel watched silently from behind. “WHAT ARE YOU?!” Dean asked for probably the twentieth time.
However, you turned your head away from him, spit the blood in your mouth onto the ground, and remained quiet. You didn’t crack a smile, you didn’t cry, you didn’t fight back (though the boys thought that was because of your restraints), you let out no response. You turned your head back to Dean.
Dean stared at you coldly for a few more seconds before turning and walking away, “I’m done with her/him. Castiel, your turn.”
“I’m getting bored,” you stated, quite clearly, as you were looking at the ground.
Dean stopped in his tracks, and span on his heel until he faced you again. “What?” Those were the first words any of them had heard you say.
“I said,” the tone of your voice changed as you looked up and smirked at Dean. You now seemed..snarky. “I’m getting bored. What? Did you really think it would be that easy to capture me?”
Suddenly, all of your “limitations” feel to the ground. You stood up, almost weightlessly, and as soon as you were standing straight, all of the injuries the boys had inflicted on you were gone.
Team Free Will got into their defensive stances.
“Woah there,” you put your hands up. “I mean no harm. I only wanted to meet you.”
Their faces only got more confused.
“Yeah, I know,” you said, reading their faces. “But I can’t explain, sorry.”
You then jumped up on a counter…that wasn’t there. You were literally sitting on air.
The boys flinched.
“Oh, come on, you guys! It’s not that bad!” You smiled. “It’s just a little magic!”
Dean murmured, “This is probably the freakiest day of my life…”
“What about the time you went to a dimension where our lives were a television program?” questioned Castiel.
Sam challenged, “Or the time that girl made our lives into a musical?”
“Or the time Gabriel sent the two of you into a series of tv shows?” You cut in.
The other three turned their heads suspiciously toward you. How did you know that?
“Oh! Speaking of the Trickster–” with a wave of your hand, the aforementioned angel appeared.
Gabriel wobbled a bit as he got used to his new surroundings. “Woah.”
“Brother?” Castiel inquired.
“Castiel? The Winchester clan? Some weirdo?… What?” I don’t need to say how confused he was, right?
“Hello, Gabriel!” you greeted cheerfully. You jumped off your ‘counter’ and went over to shake Loki’s hand.
He took it hesitantly.
You almost seemed too nice. “Oh, where are my manners. I’m y/n, it’s wonderful to meet you.”
Gabriel’s eyes darted to his three…friends? They are friends, right? I mean, Gabriel did sacrifice himself for the Winchester boys…so that qualifies them as friends. Yeah, I’m gonna call them friends.
Anyway, Gabriel’s eyes darted to his three friends, and he asked, “What’s up with this one?”
“You do see me right here, right?” You cocked an eyebrow. Gabriel’s rudeness wasn’t even bothering you.
Gabriel smirked. “I like you,” he commented.
You smirked back at him, then looked around. “I think this party’s short a few people.”
Confused looks all around (except for you, of course), again.
But then you waved your hands again.
Crowley was suddenly in the room. “What the hell?!”
You waved your hands again.
Lucifer. “Ooo! New surroundings!” He exclaimed sarcastically.
The room erupted in arguments. You probably shouldn’t of filled the bunker with this specific group of people, but you felt no remorse. Plus, you wanted to have a little fun.
To pass the time (just kidding, it was to get their attention) you did the first ‘magic’ thing Elizabeth does in this video. You moved it around a bit, and soon enough, all eyes were on you.
“What the hell are you?” scoffed Gabriel.
With that, all of the angels, humans, and demon started asking questions, all at once.
“Okay, okay! Guys, guys!” You got their attention, “I’ll tell you what I am…”
The men waited in suspense.
“…If you can guess right.”
You’d think the guys wouldn’t do it, but this the Supernatural boys we’re talking about. They spent the rest of the night shooting guesses at you (each one of them wrong).
You forgot to even tell Team Free Will that you took care of the team of monsters that were committing the murders in the first place.
**Credits for all characters except reader go to the CW and the creators of Supernatural**
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading (if you did)! Fill up that heart if you liked it! Follow me, too. I’ve written tons of other stories about Supernatural along with other stories about a lot of other fandoms. Including Hamilton, The Walking Dead, and Doctor Who; just to name a few. I love you, and smile please!
Rewatched Road to El dorado and I have to say I love this movie and the relationship between Tulio and Miguel XD Miguel is my husbando XDDDD It is so fitting since Chat is like a little child like Miguel and Ladybug more serious like Tulio XD