Requested by @let-me-entice-you. Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Dean is the omega!reader’s alpha, but hasn’t claimed her yet. A run in with a guy in a bar leads to a fight that ends with Dean needing to make a decision.

Warning: smut, a/b/o dynamics, knotting

Word Count: 2700ish

A/N: Been a while since I’ve written a/b/o, and it was so much fun! Hope you enjoy!

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” The man is a few inches taller than you, with a strong jaw and classic features, but his smile is a little too leering for you to feel comfortable.

“No, thanks,” you answer politely, holding up your beer bottle to indicate that you already have one.

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ch 94′s title

While there aren’t any misses this time in the translation, other than Tsukiyama’s line to Ui being “My memory is better than monsieur Naki’s”, there’s a bit about the title that I feel went missing from the translation and I haven’t seen anyone mentioning?

The title is a direct reference to the 94th Surah of the Quran, Al-Inshirah, which in Japanese is titled the same as TG:re’s 94th chapter. In English it gets translated as “The Opening of the Heart” (metaphorical) or “Consolation”, “Solace” etc. 

The first line (out of 8; the one both the Surah’s Japanese title and :re’s chapter title are referring to) goes like this: “Did We not relieve your heart for you?

A retelling of a fairytale.

My celebration of hitting 1000 followers, even though I’m a little late.

Thank you so much guys! It really means a lot to me that so many people like what I post enough to follow me! ♥♥

This was supposed to be for the 52 week challenge… It’s supposed to be stories of I think up to 1k words. Well that didn’t work.

This story has two endings! The one I’m posting today stays closer to the original story. I’ll probably post the second ending tomorrow-ish. Also book!verse looks because of obvious reasons. Major character death in the first ending.

Also you should thank @sarcasticlightwood and @otppurefuckingmagic for beta’ing this, they are amazing and without them I’m not sure if this would have seen the light of day ♥♥♥

Read on AO3

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The wicked have no desire to pray (Psalm 10:4), but the children of God have a natural desire to pray (Luke 11:1).

In the pride of his face the wicked does not seek him; all his thoughts are, “There is no God.” - Psalm 10:4

Now Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples - Luke 11:1

Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever You had formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God. Psalm 90:1-2
When you are in your 20’s life seems as though it will go on forever, but before you know it, you have already turned 40 or 50. Life is but a vapour.
But God is from everlasting to everlasting. He has been our dwelling place throughout the ages. The Psalmist ends the Psalm saying, “We finish our years like a sigh. The days of our lives are seventy years; and if by reason of strength they are eighty years, yet their boast is only labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. Father, Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom and live a life worthy of Your Name. In Jesus’ Name, Amen

I’ve found that sometimes the greatest loves are poured into us, like cool water being emptied into a cup. We don’t realize the depths of our love until we are so fill we are ought to spill over. But sometimes, and only sometimes, the love comes on us suddenly, like a flash of lighting in the darkest of nights. Sudden, shocking, at times unwanted, yet always inevitable. We cannot empty ourselves of the love that comes like a firestorm. We can only burn with our passions.

-a.p. (9.24.16)

Built To Fall Apart

Angvlicmish’s Writing Challenge 
Theme: Taylor Swift
Word Count: 3k
Summary: When will Dean and Cas finally be out of the woods?
Tags: Canon divergence, love confessions, possible s12 spoilers, recommended listening

Hands sprout from the ground like flowers. Flowers that have been residing in Hell for forty years, or to another, four months. It depends who’s asked. The flowers grow taller, a head eventually appearing after them, dirt and sweat covering the freckles Castiel knows adorns the paled skin.

A flap of wings sounds beside him, lost on the tortured soul trying to claw his way out of the ground. Castiel doesn’t bother looking over. He knows who it is.

“I had to see it for myself,” Uriel grunts.

“You did not believe me when I announced Dean Winchester was saved?” Castiel asks plainly, keeping his attention on Dean as he flops on his back, lungs heaving for air.

Uriel snorts. “He seems too weak to be Michael’s Sword.”

Castiel stiffens, finally sliding his gaze to Uriel. “I just raised him from perdition. What do you expect?”

“I suppose. We’ll see how he handles his responsibilities. The sooner he knows, the better.”

“You will not communicate with Dean. He is in my charge and no one will speak to him without my permission,” Castiel says, voice more terse than he intends.

His tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Uriel, who tears his gaze from Dean to glare narrowly at him.

“Castiel, do you need reminding of what our purpose is? Do not get attached to this human. He is lesser than us. If he weren’t Michael’s Sword, he’d be just another worthless mud monkey.”

Castiel flares his wings in warning. They’re not as full as they were before his trip to hell, having been damaged by the fighting, but they’re still impressive as they loom over Uriel. He drops his voice dangerously low, threatening. “I suggest you watch what you say, Uriel. Until you’re needed, I am dismissing you.”

Uriel stares at him incredulously for a moment before snickering under his breath and vanishing. Castiel returns his attention to Dean again. He’s gotten to his feet, slowly surveying his surroundings. The dead grass, the circle of fallen trees that surround his grave. Castiel relaxes his wings once again, itching to communicate with Dean but resists. He needs time to adjust, to eat and hydrate before Castiel attempts to speak with him.

For now, he’s content just watching over Dean.

Castiel didn’t anticipate what their first meeting in Hell would be like. Finding Dean’s tortured, corrupted soul, Dean melting into his grace after he’d finally stopped resisting the rescue. Castiel could never guess how strongly he’d be affected by Dean, so much so he’d unintentionally left his mark on Dean’s shoulder.

But Dean needed comfort. In the midst of the fighting, Dean clung to him, torn between needing to break away and continue cutting flesh and crumbling under the effects of Hell. It was when they were almost out that Dean looked up at Castiel, trembling with only one hoarse whisper escaping his lips.

“Are we out of the woods yet?”

Castiel held him more securely, strangely amused by the question despite them not being in any sort of forest. They were in Hell. Nevertheless, he answered Dean honestly.

“Almost, Dean.”

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