kidfic!verse

4

Quick doodle featuring some of Dean’s headbands. 

The first one is from the original drawing where I imagined Dean to be a dangerous (maybe even malicious) hunter type who decorates himself with parts of the things he killed. The headband is made of fur, feathers, leather, bones, but also flowers (which you don’t see because it’s on the other side of the head.)

Second is what I usually draw and the other two are fancier examples.

Amy Carmichael prayed, “God, please do with me whatever You want. Do anything that will help me to serve You better.”Please take all of me, Lord, that I may be wholly yours. Help me to hold loosely those things, even those blessings, that I have here, that I may be available for service to You at any time.
God answered that prayer. Amy rescued hundreds of orphaned children in India, especially little girls that would be dedicated to Hindu gods as temple prostitutes. She lovingly cared for each child God sent her, loved them and taught them the Bible. She started an orphanage in Dohnavur and tirelessly served there all her life. Thousands not only became part of a new family but powerful witnesses of Jesus Christ.
A little one shall become a thousand..Isaiah 60:22

A Dash of Sulfur by SillyBlue

Summary: 

The last thing Dean expected to see while out on patrol was his husband Castiel. The angel was supposed to be on bedrest, convalescing after a near-fatal Leviathan attack. So why was he suddenly out on the streets? And why did he smell like sulfur? Or: Castiel’s brother comes to visit him and Dean doesn’t understand the concept of twins.

Tags: Naga Dean, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, Misunderstandings, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Cultural Differences, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Omega Jimmy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Wortcount: 2.5k

Rating: General Audiences

This fic follows the hurt!Cas comic and is based on this picture.

Have fun reading! :D

(My apologies about the title. I couldn’t come up with anything better.)

So, long time no proper fic. Sorry. I want to assure you the boys night part is on its way. For real. Like for real, for real. For realsies, even. 

Have a preview:


“So, guys?” Clint returned to the table with a frown. “I maybe have to apologize.”

Bucky was tapping his pool cue on the floor while Thor lined up his shot.

Steve, leaning against the high bar table next to the wall, frowned over at Clint. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing … Thor, knock his four out of play. Do it right, you can sink your six.”

“Hey,” Bucky snarled.

Clint crossed his arms. “You wouldn’t let me play.”

“Why would anybody play pool with you?” Bucky shot back with a snort of disbelief.

“Because they don’t actually want to play and just want to watch me run the table,” Clint admitted with a scowl.

Thor followed Barton’s suggestion, clearing Bucky’s four ball out of position and sinking his own.

“Thank you, friend.” Thor tipped his head at Clint.

Steve shook his head and laughed a little as Bucky turned a threatening look on Barton.

This was nice, Steve decided, going out with friends. He was glad Clint talked him into it. Heck, it was nice to have friends he felt like he wanted to go out with. Natasha tried while they were in DC; she’d invite him out, or try to get him invited to events with other SHIELD agents, and find him dates. Sometimes he’d go, but he never felt like he quite fit.

But this, this felt right, even with the bar fight earlier — though, heck, that practically took him back to the days with the Commandos. It was fun to be out with Barton, and Thor, and Bucky. It was still a little hard to get Bucky to even look at him, but he hadn’t left yet, he hadn’t disappeared into the night again. And it was really nice to be out with teammates in a more relaxed way. It didn’t have to be a team thing, which always felt a little too forced; it was just them, drinking beer, eating hotdogs, playing pool, being friends. Yeah, it was nice.

He kind of wished Tony and Bucky were at a place where Tony could have joined them, too. It felt a little like something was missing, to not have Tony here. Steve thought the other man could use a night like this. He was tense, wound up after Darcy’s trip to the past. Steve didn’t blame him, he felt pretty wound up about it himself. He wasn’t mad, he meant his apologies, but the more he thought about it, the more it scared him. She could have been really lost for a long, long time.

“So, anyway,” Barton said again while he watched Thor miss sinking his next shot.

“What’s wrong, Clint?” Steve asked for a second time. The archer’s body language was relaxed, but in a studied way. He was trying to look relaxed.

“Oh nothing.” He smiled brightly and shrugged. “I just think this place might be a front for the Russian mob. Or like a hangout.”

The pool cue cracked in Bucky’s hand. He growled at it and threw the pieces on the table, followed by a twenty. Steve winced, this was turning into an expensive evening for him. “Where?”

“See the shifty guys by the door to the back?”

Bucky didn’t move but after a second he nodded. “I see ‘em. Muscle. Hitters.”

Steve straightened from his lean. “You sure?”

“Tattoos,” he replied simply, but his tone was clipped, hard.

“I overhead them plotting evilly when I walked by to go to the bathroom,” Clint said. “They were talking about hitting some score, discussing their murdery options.”

“I see,” Steve said and set his jaw. “Do they know you overhead?”

Clint didn’t seem concerned. He reached for his beer and took a long sip. “They were speaking po-ruskie, I talked to the bartender all loud-like in drunk yokel. I’m sure they’re sure I didn’t understand.”

Steve pressed his lips together and thought. They could deal with it, or they could call the cops. They should probably stay out of it and call the cops. His eyes slid over to Bucky, whose face was cold and blank. Bucky didn’t need to be on anybody’s radar.

“We can leave it to the police, call in a tip,” he said quietly, for Bucky’s ears alone.

“Why? We’re here.” He straightened his shoulders and took a quick look around the pool hall, checking other customers, exits, windows, and options. “I think maybe they should get a visit from—”

“The Winter Soldier will spook the hell out of them,” Clint put in, shaking his head firmly.

Bucky gave him a flat look. “Yakov from Moscow.”

“Oh.” Clint pursed his lips and thought. “They might have clocked you already.”

“So what if they did? They don’t know me.” Bucky grabbed a glass of water and poured some in his hand, then set to work slicking back his hair and straightening his clothes, ready to become Yakov.

“Buck,” Steve protested and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

Bucky looked at him for a long second and then laughed, it was a little low and quiet but genuine. “May as well get some use out of this crap in my head. Make it something good.”

The quartet were silent for a moment, dwelling on the things that made Bucky the one most qualified to talk to Russian mobsters. Maybe Steve was the one dwelling on it, but Clint was squinting up at the ceiling like he was uncomfortable. And Bucky was staring at the pieces of his broken pool cue like it had betrayed him.

Thor broke the silence, offering the practical next step to get them moving and to end the awkward contemplation of the past. “The three of us will leave you,” he said, “to make sure they don’t feel threatened or more suspicious. We can wait for you in the alley. Bring one to us and we might question him.”

“That good by you, Cap?” Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows.

Steve ran though his own list of options. They weren’t in the worst position in the world. If Bucky could separate one of them from the group, they could figure out their target, and stop the hit, maybe save some lives. While the Avengers tended to operate on a more global scale, that didn’t mean they shouldn’t help at the street level. Especially not when it was something happening right in front of them.

“Alright, do it,” he said after his considerations. “If it doesn’t work, if they don’t buy it, just leave. Too many civilians for a fight.”

With a dry smile, Bucky tipped his head. “Yes, sir.”


I cry just about every time I see how many of y’all have taken a liking to my bird folk. Just, man

blow me out the goddamn water in the best way possible ;o;/

I Hate Myself For Loving You

This was written for @dr-dean   A/B/O Birthday Challenge.  My song was “I Hate myself for Loving You.” By Joan Jett

2010

I knew the exact moment when Sam Winchester took back control of his body from Lucifer and jumped into the pit.  Sam was my Alpha, and I was his Omega, and we shared a special connection.

Sam had begged me to stay away from Stull Cemetery. “I need you to be safe, Y/N. I don’t want you anywhere near Lucifer.”

I fought and argued, but eventually Sam wore me down and I agreed to stay behind.  In the end I had to obey my Alpha.  There was a desperation in Sam’s touch the last time we were together that told me he did not expect to survive this.

“I will come for you, Omega.”   Sam told me as he kissed me one final time before leaving.  “If there is a way I will always come for you.”

Later I doubled over in agony when I felt the bond with my Alpha sever.  It felt like my soul was being ripped in half  That was when I knew.  Sam had sacrificed himself to save the world. My Alpha was gone.

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So, I actually drew this a while ago but wasn’t going to post it at first just cause I thought maybe some of the proportions and coloring seemed off and it just didn’t look that good to me, but Taylor convinced me otherwise so- yeah! Have some not that great but still cute Skeleton Dance art with the Skelly Twins using their dad as a pillow while their papa sings them to sleep with campfire songs ^v^