lies from the pit of hell

Beauty and the Beast AU (1)

Summary: Y/N has always been in love with fairy-tales. They give her an escape from the dark and blood world she lives in. With the new Beauty and the Beast movie coming out soon she’s excited as could be. Her boyfriend Dean however has a few issues with it. 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, OFC, Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, heavy making out, fondling, almost smut, angst, a lot of fighting

Word Count: 5,433 (I’m not even sorry)

Part Two Part Three

A/N: This is my fist part to my Beauty and the Beast AU. Hug thank you to @love-kittykat21 for beta reading and helping me with this! Feedback is always welcomed and I hope you enjoy it as much as I am!

Originally posted by gameraboy

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

“Hey,” a large hand gripped your shoulder, shaking you gently, “Y/N wake up.” Grimacing, you pulled yourself away from Dean’s body looking up at Sam. He had a big smile on his face,  the alarm clock illuminating his face. Looking at the harsh, glaring, green numbers you groaned. It was barely six in the morning and Sam was ready to get going. “Get up, I wanna tell you something.” His voice was soft and timid, attempting not to wake his brother up.

“Okay, just give me a second.” You whispered back to him, getting up as slowly as you could, Dean simply turned away, pulling the crisp white sheets along with him.

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Built To Fall.

A/n: You wanna know how long it took me to get this out? Ask God. But, there will also be future chapters of this because I love a good plot build up. Especially for Franky boy. This is for you @atari-writes, get ready for the next chapter, cus I’ve lost all control.

Summary: (Au. Set post season 2) A glimpse into “domestic life” with Frank. He’s still feeling the after shocks of losing his family, and that’s gonna make anyone a bit…reluctant. Or maybe reckless is a better word? OR How Frank Castle let go of the past.

Based on this song!

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Cursing, talk of sex, Frank is his own warning, blood. (Smut, ANGST in future chapters…like next chapter lmao)

Originally posted by unchartedghoul


And if the world don’t break

I’ll be shaking it,

Cause’ I’m a young man after all!

And when the seasons change

will you stand by me? 

Cause’ I’m young man built to fall!

When you and Frank first had sex he cried. He’d had one of your legs thrown over his shoulder, and you had finished five, six, seven thrust ago, but he was still there. Going through the motions, chasing his own, and God just has a thing for flipping the switch, because the next thing you know Franks kissing your leg and moaning a name that’s definitely not yours.

I want you to tell me, right now, what the hell you’re supposed to do when you’ve got your fucking legs over a guy’s shoulders, and he’s still inside you, when he says another woman’s name, opens his eyes, sees who you are, and cries.

Here’s what you did. “Did you cum?”

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Protective/Supportive Aaron

For @bartsugsy and @sapphicsugden as requested (Includes some paraphrasing.)

•6th February 2015 Remember that one minor incident when Aaron sent Robert away to get married and rid Wylie’s of any evidence that they were ever there and continued to keep that secret even after he found out Robert pushed Katie. Which is the only reason Robert’s gorgeous ass hasn’t been rotting away in a prison cell for the last two years. But no big deal. Just Aaron saving Robert on a daily basis.
•9th February 2015 Aaron’s new mantra where Robert and Katie’s death are concerned “It’s not his fault!” 
•10th February 2015 The slap heard round the world when mama bear Chas turns feral on her cub because Aaron dares to blame Katie for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Obviously it was Katie’s fault Robert burnt down her caravan.
•11th February 2015 Go ahead and tell Chrissie I’ve been boning her husband mum and WE ARE DONE!!! 
•9th April 2015 BTW Paddy. I totally text Katie and told her to meet me at Wylie’s that day. It was all totes my fault and you shouldn’t blame Robert for anything! EVER!!!
•12th May 2015 God Robert why are you such a human disastercase getting drunk off a single pint (👀👀👀) of whiskey? Let me help you back to the pub, get you a glass of water and kindly let you sneak in a little snog.
•13th May 2015 *Clears throat* Excuse me Chrissie, I might have been one of the people who broke into your house so I know for a fact Robert’s super sorry about it. Now can you please take your sad sack of a husband back? (Even if I still kind of sort of love him and want him to be mine.)
•25th June 2015 Cain my man! I know Robert might look really good with a bruised face but you still can’t beat the hell out of him like this. Here babes. Let me help you home and pretend it has nothing to do with my ongoing struggle over how much I still love you. K…K…cool.
•21st July 2015 Geez “Dad”! My boyfriend’s a total idiot who likes to run his mouth off but stop making up lies and saying he tried to bury you in a grain pit. While you’re at it stay away from me!  
•25th September 2015 (Also 22nd October 2015) Listen dude, I really hate you but I’m still going to cry over your bleeding body while I try to stop the life from leaving you and decide if I really want you to live or die.
•18th March 2016 *Chokes on beer* LIV! It’s super inappropriate to ask someone what it’s like getting shot and we defs don’t ask to see the scar. (Side eye…especially since I still haven’t seen it yet.)
•5th April 2016 So the thing is Robert, my little sister is a bit confused right now and she recorded you saying you bribed Ryan. Now we both know that was a really ridic move on your part but you’ve been super amazing and taken care of me a lot and I really don’t want anything to happen to you for protecting me so I’ll try to do the same for you.
•10th May 2016 Hey now missy! I will tolerate a lot but I draw the line at comparing my boyfriends godlike face to that of a rodent. Show some respect. You know I missed out on some…..tea time…with him yesterday because of you.
• 6th June 2016 Okay I’ve been in jail enough times to know the rules so you need to let my guy go before I really start to lose it. And you Olivia Flaherty take a good look at everything Robert has done recently because guess what. THAT’S LOVE! ALL OF IT WAS BECAUSE HE LOVES ME!
•14 July 2016 *Staring at Robert dreamily* What’s that officer? I was busy mooning over him calling me his boyfriend. Oh yeah. He DEFINITELY bought me a super sweet expensive watch back in February.
•16 August 2016 Babe that purse doesn’t really go with your outfit AND NEITHER WILL HANDCUFFS IF YOU GET SENT DOWN FOR HELPING YOUR BROTHER. Please don’t risk your life and our future for that. I can’t lose you.
•17 August 2016 Fiiiiiiiiine……..I’ll help you take down Lachlan and the Whites (even though I dont really think it’s a good idea) but we have to be super careful or someone (namely us) could get hurt.
•31 August 2016 Lachlan: I’m gonna kill you. Aaron: Human shield activate. Robert: That was hot as hell! He is so getting laid tonight.
•17 October 2016 Hey there Lachlan! Let me show you what happens when vile little cretins such as yourself threaten my love and my life. First, you get your head shoved in this conveniently placed barrel of water. Then thrown in the boot of my car.
•08 November 2016 Diane, Robert was just trying to help Andy and do what he thought was best for your family. *mumbles under breath* Not that any of you would ever notice or appreciate the way he bends over backwards for you anyways.
• 11th November 2016 Here love. Let me rub your back and console you while you mourn your mother. Sorry your siblings couldn’t make it.
•1st December 2016 THE HE’S MINE BACK OFF LADY DEATH STARE!!! If looks could kill Rebecca would be long gone and this storyline would never have happened. (I’m counting it! Fight me!)
•5th January 2017 I’m sorry Chrissie, remind me again how it’s Robert’s fault Lachlan shot your dad? Pretty sure he picked that gun up all on his own. So stop ruining my birthday! 
•20th January 2017 Robert you really are a total flaming idiot if you don’t take this opportunity to run a mile because I’m not good for you. 
•21st February 2017 Robert Jacob Sugden you are amazing! You did everything in your power to give me the wedding of my dreams and more importantly than that you chose the pub where I was dared you to stand up and proudly announce to everyone who and what you are. 
•21st February 2017 Whoa there Diane how about we get you a drink and avoid talking about Jack. (Because he totally didn’t deserve someone as incredible as Robert. He should have loved him unconditionally and if he was here today I’d probably knock him on his ass for messing with this beautiful man’s head.) Although, babe you really should think about talking to Vic and Diane about it. It might help you to move on.
•6th April 2017 OMG babe! I’m so sorry I accidentally punched you’re perfect beautiful face. (This time I really didn’t mean it.) Here let me caress it softly and make it all better. There there now.
•12th April 2017 Listen Robert we both know you didn’t get that tummy by running on the regular. Save yourself and go home before you keel over and die. I’ll be fine. (Okay so it’s a stretch but I feel a tummy mention is just expected of me at this point.)

Play Me

Hey guys! This is my first story I am posting on social media so pleeaaase give me some feedback. 

Based on the song Play Me by Neil Diamond, the chorus lyrics will be in italics.


The first thing he saw was her smile as his eyes shot open in a panic. He struggled to lift his limp body off the ground as a burning sensation rippled from the three wounds in his chest.

“Thank god, you’re awake! I saw you get shot and I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up. Are you feeling okay?”

The words passed over his head, his total focus on the inviting smile that came from her lips. It warmed his entire being, his soul suddenly felt alive. She was the sun rising slowly from behind the horizon. Her rays of light slowly drowned out the darkness of his night sky.

He slowly reached out his fingertips to graze her soft lips. “Stay with me, please.”

She lifted her hand to intertwine her fingers with his. “Of course, I’m y/n.”

“Jason.” he replied, his name the only word he was able to breathe out. All troubled thoughts slipped from his mind as though they were vanishing into nothing. Her beauty entranced him, filling the gaping hole in his heart.

As y/n leaned down to place a soft kiss on his cheek he no longer felt lonely. For years he had been alone, since the tender age of eight. Fate seemed to despise him. Every waking moment of his life had been one tragedy after another. Even in his sleep there was no solace, his mind had been plagued with terrors ever since he was a child.

He had prayed to the higher powers to show him who he had wrong. He begged to find out what unpardonable deed he had committed to anger the forces of the universe. Every night he prayed for an answer, an answer that never came. As he stared up in awe at the woman in front of him, he wondered if destiny had taken pity on him.

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the words

I am the tune

Play me

Her voice was like a song to him. Every time she spoke he swore the harps of heaven came from her lips. She spoke kindly to him, reassured him when he doubted himself. Slowly, she started to heal him. Her words became a fire to him, melting away the icy exterior of his mind and soul. For the first time in his life he felt right with himself. He started to believe his life had a purpose and was capable of being loved.

He gradually attempted to mend ties with his family. He finally allowed himself to believe that they accepted him. He slowly started to believe his father loved him, he no longer felt replaced by his younger brothers.

He had been welcomed back with open arms, the lost son had finally returned. His family could not thank y/n enough for bestowing meaning on his life. For once in his life, he truly felt loved.

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the words

I am the tune

Play me

He trudged through the muddy grass as though the weight of life had been thrown onto his shoulders. Loud cracks of thunder seemed to shake the ground beneath him. The bright flashes of lightning that followed illuminated the dark sky, allowing his eyes to see more than three feet in front of him. They were taunting him, the heavens were mocking him.

Heavy rain pelted against him, soaking through his hoodie and sending chills through his skin. He didn’t notice, he already felt frigid and empty. His soul had become a desolate shell of nothing.

It was all a joke to them. His life was nothing but a sick game to the forces of heaven, and Fate was the one playing his game piece.

The path of his life was a wretched torment, each turn more agonizing than the last. He awaited the day the road would end and drop him into the pits of hell.

Every good thing in his life, every glimmer of hope, every saving grace had been a false hope. His blessings were all lies, an oasis he hallucinated on his path of pain and suffering.

His heavy footsteps came to a halt as he reached his destination. His eyes screwed shut as he grimaced from the anguishing pain gnawing at his heart. Terror and self-hatred once again crept into his mind. He painfully opened his eyes, casting them downward at the stone in front of him.

Here lies y/n l/n

Her kindness and smile brought happiness to all those that should see it.

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the words

I am the tune

Play me

You Have Three Seconds To Run

(Dick Grayson x Reader)

Summary: Dick’s and yours date gets interrupted by an unwelcome visitor but luckily Dick saves the day 

Requested: yes, by a wonderful anon

Request: Hey lovely 😊 I was wondering can you write an imagine with reader and dick are on a date and her ex keeps bugging her so dick saves the day also can it ends with fluff and cute couple-Ly moment? 😻❤️

Warning/s: none

Celebrating your two year anniversary with your lovely boyfriend Dick Grayson was supposed to be amazing, it was supposed to be magical, but everyone knows that magical is not possible in the world you live in.

Now your date wasn’t interrupted by some thugs or robbers or any criminals, in fact even Joker and Harley were on a date in the same restaurant as you and Dick. Instead your date was interrupted by your ex boyfriend.

You hated his guts, he cheated, he lied. He would always come home late and just when you thought you would break up with him he would kiss your face and told you he loved you, sweet talk you whenever he could. It was his way of persuading you to stay with him. 

Everyone told you it was a bad idea to be with him, your parents, your friends, everyone. You even found his other phone for other girls he hid from you. So yeah you hated him from the pits of hell.

“Well hello there baby.” He came to your table and leaned against it causally. You saw Dick looking over at the guy in anger and gripping the tablecloth, turning his knuckles white.

“What do you want Jared?” You asked feeling the rage coming again. “Oh baby, you know I want you.”

“Well you can’t get me, I never want to experience a relationship with you. Now go away.” You said as you tried to go back to your date, but your ex wasn’t feeling getting ignored. He grabbed your upper arm and yanked it so you looked at him, “I am not leaving without you (y/n).” Jared said sadistically.

“Yes you are.” You both looked at the new voice across the table joining the conversation. Dick. You smiled a little knowing he’ll probably unleash hell on Earth. “And just who the fuck are you?”

“I am (y/n)’s new boyfriend and your worst nightmare if you don’t release my girlfriend from your grip.” Dick said while getting up from his seat looking intimidating. Your cowardly ex shrank a little seeing how Dick was tall and his body was broad nicely.

“Now I am giving you three seconds to let my girlfriend go and run out of the restaurant.” Dick said crossing his arms over his chest. “And what if I say no?” Your sick ex smiled at your new boyfriend. “Then I’ll have to arrest you.” Dick said taking your ex’s arm and pressing it against Jared’s back, keeping it between the shoulder blades.

“What the fuck are you doing man?!” 

“I’m a cop and I’m arresting you for sexual harassment,” Dick said still holding Jared’s arm on his back, “That is unless you do as I say and leave in three seconds.” Dick let go of your ex and he ran out of the restaurant like the coward he is.            

“Thank you Dick for that.” You said hugging him tightly. Dick took your chin lifting it up and kissing you passionately. “Anything for you sweetheart.” Dick smiled his smile that always melts your heart. “Now how about we ditch this place and go back to the apartment to watch some cheesy films and eat whatever food you want?”

You kissed him once more, “I think that sounds amazing.” Dick took your hand in his and you two left the restaurant hand in hand and very happy.

I Hate You, I Love You

Hi, I absolutely adore your blog, you’re such a great writer. I was wondering if I could request an spencer Reid imagine based on the song ‘I hate you I love you’ based on season 8 just before meaves death.

I can most certainly do this!  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 2  Part 3  Part 4)

Feeling used, but I’m still missing you, and I can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss against my lips.  And now all this time is passing by, but I still can’t seem to tell you why it hurts me every time I see you.  I realize how much I need you…

Sitting on a bench as you hold your newspaper to your face, you slip your gaze up above the crest of the fluttering paper, peeking over at the man that had stolen your heart and soul.

The man you had kissed a few months back.

You watched as he stood, his hands jammed in his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his feet, waiting anxiously for the payphone to ring just so he could hear her voice.

Her voice that held all of the knowledge in the world.

His lifeline.

I hate you, I love you…I hate that I love you.  Don’t want to but I can’t put nobody else above you.  I hate you, I love you…I hate that I want you.  You want her, you need her…

You feel your jaw clench as the phone begins to ring, watching as he hastily picks up the phone before the first ring resounds, his lips curling up into the brightest smile you had ever seen.

A smile with the lips you had kissed.

They never smiled at you like that.

…and I’ll never be her…

You wonder what they are conversing about.  The topics you would never understand, and the humor you would never find funny.  You wondered if he was still asking her for help with his headaches that you knew had been plaguing him for some time…or if maybe they were chatting about how her day was going.

You watch as his entire posture changes: his eyes growing bright and his back standing tall.  His shoulders rolling back and his smile growing broad.  His hand moving at a million miles a second as he fills her in on his days, drinking in every drop of her voice as you watch him close his eyes, trying desperately to conjure her in front of him.

A her that wasn’t you.

You could never be here.

Not to him.

I miss you when I can’t sleep, or right after coffee, or right when I can’t eat.  I miss you in my front seat…still got sand in my sweaters from nights we don’t remember.  Do you miss me like I miss you?

You feel tears cresting the back of your eyes as you watched his stunned expression.  The way his body stopped moving.  The way he stumbled hanging the phone call back up.

The way he almost forgot his bag walking in the opposite direction for work…

She said it.

That word.

That word that you craved to say to him.

Did she feel it as vast as you did?

Did she offer no strings attached like you would?

Did her love has stipulations?

Would he even care if it did…?

Fucked around and got attached to you.  Friends can break your heart too, and I’m always tired but never of you.  If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit.  I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit.  I type a text but then I never mind that shit.  I got these feelings but you never mind that shit.  Oh oh, keep it on the low…

You felt anger grow inside of your chest as you watch him walk away, his attention elsewhere as you watch him take out his cell phone at the corner, his body instinctively waiting for traffic to die down as he tries desperately with his shaking hands to send a text message.

You know who he was trying to contact.

And it boiled your blood.

You’re still in love with me but your friends don’t know.  If you wanted me you would just say so, and if I were you, I would never let me go.  I don’t mean no harm, I just miss you on my arm…wedding bells were just alarms…caution tape around my heart…

Watching him as he shoves his phone back into his pocket, you watch his long legs…those legs you straddled with your own as you cupped his face oh so many months ago…glide him across the intersection just as you feel your phone vibrate at your hip.

You felt the bile rise to your throat as you put your newspaper down on the bench beside you, drawing your phone from the clip on your hip as you see Spencer’s name flashing on your screen.

Always the best friend…

You ever wonder what we could have been?  You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did.  Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix…now all my drinks and all my feelings are all fucking mixed.

Opening your phone, you take in a deep breath through your nose as you open the text message he sent you, the one sentence drawing the tears from your eyes, magnetized by your chin as they flow down your face.

She said ‘love you’.

How do you respond?

How do you tell him the drunken kiss so many months ago was the start of something new for you?

How do you tell him that you would give him the world just to see him smile at you the way he does with her?

How do you tell your damsel in distress that you want him to be your knight in shining armor?

How do you stop being so angry?

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing.  Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance.  I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing, but I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings…

Clicking a text message back to him, you shut your phone as you wipe at the tears streaming down your face.  You needed coffee, as well as your makeup bag, in order to patch yourself up for work.

No need to be profiled today.

You didn’t know what else to send him, except for a congratulations.  You knew that this was monumental for your friend, finding someone akin to himself in mind as well as someone that captured his soul.

You would never be able to capture his mind.  Not with barely skating along in high school and just scraping by for a BA in Psychology.

You know the reason you were hired onto the team was because of your physical prowess anyhow.

But it still didn’t stop the tears from forming.

And it still didn’t stop your heart from aching.

And it still didn’t stop your mind from whirling.

And it still didn’t stop the jealousy from boiling.

You were here.

Not her.


When love and trust are gone, I guess this is moving on.  Everyone I do right does me wrong, so every lonely night I sing this song.

Cranking up your car as you pull out onto the road, you feel your phone vibrate again as you pull into the drive-through line of your favorite coffee place.

Here goes nothing.

Swiping your screen as you slowly inch ahead, you place your coffee order before looking down at the message Spencer had returned.

Grabbing coffee.  Want anything?

Does Spencer count?

When he asks you what you want…is it appropriate to say his name?

Probably not.

No, you reply as you slowly pull up to the window to pay, I’m grabbing something now.  See you soon.

All alone I watch you watch her like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen.  You don’t care, you never did…you don’t give a damn about me.  Yeah all alone I watch you watch her.  She is the only thing you ever see.  How is it you never notice that you are slowly killing me.

Sipping your coffee mindlessly on the way to the office, you are lucky enough to find a spot on the first level of the parking garage across the street.

Deciding to take the time, you reach into your go-bag and pull out your makeup case, flipping your mirror down as you begin to cover up the red blotches and the sunken in eyes from numerous nights of staying awake, fearing that if you go to sleep, you would see him.

Him and you.

Tangled up in each other.

Smiling at you the way he smiles at her.

And you didn’t want a broken heart.

Not any longer.

I hate you, I love you, I hate that I love you…don’t want to but I can’t put nobody else above you.  I hate you I love you, I hate that I want you.  You want her, you need her…

Finished with your facade, you take in a deep breath through your nose just as you ear a light knock at your driver-side car window.

Flipping your mirror up as you slowly pan your gaze over to the window, you plaster on your best smile as your friend and colleague, Spencer Reid, waves at you from the other side.

“Morning!” he beckons, a broad smile peeled across his face as you reach for the rest of your go-bag, pulling it into your lap as Spencer opens your door.

“Need help?” he asks as he grabs for your coffee so that you can put your make-up bag away.

Why couldn’t he just be an asshole?

“Thanks, Reid,” you muse, climbing out of your car as you lock the door and shut it closed with your hip.

“So…?” Spencer asks as he hands you your coffee after swinging your bag strap across your chest.

“Mhmmmm?” you hum mockingly, trying to match his playful tone as you brace yourself for a conversation you didn’t want to have.

“What do you think she meant?” he asks sheepishly.

His tone of voice both melted your heart and churned your stomach.

You wanted him to be talking about you.

“I think she meant what she said, Reid,” you say as the two of you dash across the street, standing at the foot of the steps to the FBI building.

“So you think she meant it?” he asks.

“I mean, why would she say it otherwise?  Has she lied to you before?” you ask.

If she ever lied to him, you’d kill her.

“No.  No she’s-…she’s never lied,” he breathes.

And as you turn towards him, your hand reaching out and rubbing his arm comfortingly, a thought that hadn’t dawned on you before crosses your mind.

Maybe this women doesn’t wear make-up.

“Then there’s no reason to stop believing her now,” you muse, your smile sliding down to a grin as you try to keep your resolve, just until you could peel out of his vision.  Make an excuse to take a different elevator.  Slip into a bathroom.

Anything to free you from the fiery pits of the hell you had succumbed to.

“Thanks, Y/L/N,” Spencer muses before he wraps his arms around you, giving you a giant hug as he holds you close.

His warmth was intoxicating…

“I’m gonna wait until we see each other face to face.  I want her to see how genuine my response is,” Spencer smiles as he pulls away, starting up for the doors as you stand, rooted to your spot.


Spencer Reid was in love with a ghost.

A ghost that was better than you…

…and I’ll never be her.

But I can't get past...

Cas being a high-end kept boy for various politicians and businessmen, always involved in some high-stakes relationship or other in the D.C. area. His whole life is built on secrecy, it has to be. His lovers don’t know about him beyond the walls of their high-end apartments and expensive hotel suites; his family doesn’t know him past his seat at the dinner table; he doesn’t really have friends because he doesn’t have the time. He constantly lives in this gulf, stuck in between his reality and his current lover’s fantasy, balancing the two.

He’s never alone for very long between men, because as soon as one ends, another is approaching. Despite his young age, only twenty-four, Cas is experienced enough to know how the game works. So when a young woman named Charlie approaches him with an offer on behalf of her employer, he doesn’t hesitate to accept. He lays down his boundaries, she lays down her employer’s, and then he signs on the dotted line. Same as always.

It’s not until after he’s signed that he discovers who his new bedmate is, and he’s actually slightly surprised.

Dean is running for his second term as senator, and he’s a shoo-in for the spot. He’s a legacy; his father served in the Senate for years. He has his perfect family—his supportive wife Lydia and four-year-old daughter Emma. He makes all the right stands and lobbies for all the right petitions. He’s the golden boy of government, and there’s already talk of his running for the presidency someday.

Cas has heard of him, of course; young, handsome up-and-comers always get their fair share of attention. But Cas hadn’t even suspected that this man was gay, which is unusual. From the start, it’s made clear that this is Dean’s game. He controls everything.

The first time they meet at the condo, Dean acts cordial, friendly even. Dean further explains some of his personal stipulations that had been too personal to share through Charlie. Cas is pleasantly surprised when he doesn’t demand monogamy, like most of Cas’s other lovers have. Usually, they like to play house, pretend that their twisted relationship with Cas is somehow normal. And Cas usually goes along because they pay oh so well.

But Dean doesn’t expect any of that. He just asks that Cas be available when he needs him, and that appeals to Cas. He won’t have to morph his reality again to fit this new lover’s fantasy. He’ll just be there when Dean calls, and he can be his own person otherwise.

The first time they fuck, it’s strictly business. There’s no kissing, little foreplay. Dean lets Cas get off first, Cas returns the favor, and then while they’re still catching their breath, Dean says, “You can go now.” And Cas dresses and leaves. He doesn’t let himself think about the fact that he actually enjoyed that one, unlike most of his others.

It goes on like this for months. Dean will call Cas, they’ll meet at the condo, fuck, and then Cas will leave before Dean’s even down from the high. No kissing, no touching beyond what’s necessary. Strictly business. But Cas begins to realize that even strictly business, it’s still the most fulfilling relationship he’s ever had.

And then it changes on a rainy afternoon in October. Cas finishes Dean off with his mouth that time, his heart aching a little bit as he says, “I’ll go now.” But when he moves to leave the bed, Dean grabs him by the arm.

“Stay?” He whispers, his green eyes soft in the dim light. “Just for a few minutes?”

And Cas, he knows that this isn’t Dean actually wanting to cuddle him, it’s Dean needing human touch. Dean doesn’t need him specifically; he just needs someone. But Cas still agrees. And as he curls against Dean’s side and places his ear over Dean’s still-hammering heart, he can feel the senator release the tiniest of contented sighs, and he can’t help but match it with one of his own.

They still don’t kiss, still don’t touch much beforehand. But after, Cas will linger and lay quietly with Dean as they catch their breaths and steady their hearts. They don’t talk much; when they do, it’s inane stuff about their favorite movies or food. They never talk about anything personal.

The first time Dean sees Cas outside the confines of the condo, he’s obviously shocked. Cas is at one of his father’s boring fundraisers, wearing a boring tux with an equally boring date on his arm. The guy’s an accountant for some firm that Michael represents, and Cas can’t even remember his name, but the guy’s also clean looking and just what the former-Virginia-governor’s gay son should date.

Cas sees Dean, of course, and even smiles kindly at Lydia when Bartholomew introduces everybody. He’s definitely not jealous of the way she gets to hold Dean’s hand and smile lovingly up at her husband, who she’ll go home with afterwards. Of course not. Cas is never jealous. So he just clings to his date’s arm and smiles broadly until the awkward interaction passes.

He doesn’t seek Dean out; he knows that’s not how this goes. So he’s shocked when Dean actually trails him to the bathroom and locks them both inside.

“You’re Bartholomew’s son?” He hisses, and Cas shrugs. He can tell Dean’s angry, but what did Dean expect? He’s never asked, so Cas has never offered the information. That’s just how he works.

“Yeah, I guess,” Cas replies, attempting to sound bored and disinterested, when in reality his heart is hammering in his chest. The way Dean’s pressing into him at the counter definitely isn’t the closest they’ve been; Dean’s been inside of him, for fuck’s sake. But the way he’s looking at Cas…it’s heady, like a drug that Cas needs more of.

“You guess?” Dean growls.

“Look, I know we haven’t talked about anything personal up to this point, and let’s just keep it that way, okay?” Cas suggests. “Yes, Bart is my father, but barely so. The only reason he claims me at all is so he can get the gay votes.” Cas doesn’t mention that now that Bart’s not running for office any longer, it’ll only be a matter of time before he cuts Cas off completely.

“I just…I can’t seem to reconcile…” Dean finally admits with a gesture of his hand, the air deflating from him, and Cas smirks.

“Dean, how do you think I got into doing this in the first place? Actually…” He glances around the bathroom, “I think it was in this very room.” He sighs dramatically. “Had to get Bart that last vote for the energy bill.” He can tell by Dean’s stunned expression that the senator realizes the full implications of what he’s said.

When Dean says nothing, Cas pushes him away. “Now, I still have to go pee, so you’re going to leave now, okay? Call me when you need me.” He pats Dean on the cheek twice, dismissing him.

He almost expects Dean to stop calling after that. He expects his next contact to be Charlie terminating the contract. So he’s shocked when Dean texts the very next day.

When Cas arrives at the condo, he expects to get right to business like usual. He’s about to strip when Dean’s question halts him.

“Who was that guy you were with?”

Cas glances up from where his fingers are frozen on the button of his slacks. “What guy?”

“The guy you were at the benefit with,” Dean clarifies, flushing softly.

“Oh, some guy Michael hooked me up with,” Cas shrugs like it’s no big deal. “He keeps setting me up on dates with upstanding men, probably to get me to settle down.”

“Settle down?” Dean wonders. “Don’t they know…” He trails off, but Cas knows how the sentence ends. *Don’t they know that you’re a whore?*

Cas shakes his head. “Nope. They don’t know about this part of my life, just like you don’t know about that part of my life.”

Dean stares at him, perplexed. “So, they don’t really know the real you. And I don’t really know the real you. So who knows the real you?”

Cas shoots him an annoyed glance. “Me. I know who I really am.”

But even as he says the words, he knows they’re not true. Cas has lied about his life for so long, he can’t really discern the truth anymore. Like here and now. The truth of the matter is that he’s an easy lay, a convenient fuck, a sex toy for Dean. But he could swear, with the way that Dean’s looking at him, the senator actually has feelings for him, that he’s actually concerned about this easy lay.

And that’s nothing but a lie from the pit, the worst kind of blasphemy. Because Cas has been at this long enough to know that these men don’t love him. Hell, they barely like him. They keep him around because they need him. And Dean is just like the rest of them. So to focus himself back on what’s really happening here, he asks, “We gonna fuck or not?”

So they do. Cas climbs up onto the bed, presenting his ass for the senator, unwilling to watch the gorgeous green-eyed man as they fuck. But Dean…Dean has other plans. He flips Cas over onto his back so that Cas has no choice but to stare at Dean as he takes him long and slow and deep, just like Cas likes it.

And when they’re finished, when Dean has collapsed onto Cas, his breaths harsh and heavy in Cas’s ear, he presses a gentle kiss to Cas’s temple. Cas can’t tell if it’s an admission or an apology, but he doesn’t ask. He almost prefers not to know.

And then Dean asks, “Did you fuck him?”

Cas stares up at the ceiling, refuses to meet his eyes as he admits, “I tried.”

“What does that mean?” Dean pries, and Cas suddenly finds tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he whispers, “He wasn’t…” He barely stops himself from saying the damning words: he wasn’t you. But Dean seems to know, even without the words. He presses another kiss to Cas’s hair, and Cas can feel his heart breaking that Dean won’t actually kiss him. So he gets dressed and leaves.

The next time they meet, neither of them mention it. But Cas finds himself fantasizing more and more about what it would feel like to have Dean’s lips on his, which is ridiculous. He’s acting like some blushing schoolgirl with her first crush, not a wizened sex companion. But every time Dean’s mouth almost touches his, Cas feels his heart explode inside.

The first time they kiss isn’t anything like Cas fantasizes; it’s not before sex, or even after it. It’s nowhere near the condo. No, the first time they kiss, they’re huddled in a secluded corner of the governor’s mansion. Dean’s hands are resting against the wall behind Cas’s head, caging him in when all Cas wants is escape.

He’d already tried to run when he fled from the crowded ballroom, unable to bear another moment of Dean and Lydia smiling so warmly, so knowingly at each other, like husbands and wives do. Just like the last time, Cas hadn’t expected Dean to follow him; that’s not how these things were supposed to go. But he had, and now he has Cas trapped in with nowhere to go.

“Please,” Cas whispers shakily, tears staining his cheeks. He’s not sure what he’s asking for, whether it’s for Dean to let him go or to draw him in. He can’t figure up from down anymore, but Dean can. He stares at Cas intently, his green eyes fiery and determined.

The crowd in the room next door is still counting the new year in when their lips first brush.

And Cas knows that Dean’s wife is probably looking for him; he knows that he’s stealing this first kiss of the new year from her, just like he’s stealing her husband’s affections. Because neither of them can deny it anymore; they’re falling, hard.

Dean texts Cas multiple times a week now, and no matter what he’s doing, Cas drops everything and runs to him. He doesn’t sleep with anyone else; he hasn’t since the failure with the accountant that one night.

He’s Dean’s, body and heart and mind and soul. He doesn’t care that it’ll always have to be a secret between them; he can deal with it. He’s lived a life of secrecy, so this is nothing new. He’ll spend all eternity in the shadow as long as that shadow belongs to Dean. And he knows that Dean feels the same for him. Even without the kissing, their sex has grown more and more desperate, Dean eager to leave his bruises on Cas’s hips and neck and Cas eager to accept them.

And now, now that they have kissed, they’re barely through the front door before they’re crashing together, their mouths harsh and demanding against the other’s, their hands rough and claiming. And afterwards, they spend hours talking, about themselves, their families, their hopes, their fears.

Cas admits one night that he’s scared of this, scared of how powerful it is, how out of control he feels.

“I’ve never been this open with anyone,” he whispers shakily into the dark room. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

Dean pulls him in for a soft kiss, his lips gentle against Cas’s as he replies, “Me neither.”

They’re spiraling, upward or downward Cas can’t tell; all he knows is that it’s a beautiful spiral.

And then it all comes crashing to a halt. The article appears in the paper on Tuesday morning. There aren’t any pictures; it’s all ‘hearsay’ at this point that the golden boy senator is a closeted homosexual. Dean’s team goes into witch-hunt mode, trying to figure out who the mole was. None of them suspect until she steps forward to claim responsibility.

Turns out Dean’s wife has known from the start, but she hadn’t cared at first. Dean got to have his fun and she got to keep her rising star of a husband. But now, now that Dean’s so obviously in love with this whore…it has to end. So when Dean calls Cas to the condo on Tuesday afternoon, he doesn’t expect to find her there with him, waiting to pounce. She doesn’t cry, doesn’t scream at him, doesn’t show any emotion of any kind.

She sits on the plush couch with Dean, one long leg crossed casually over the other, a pale, slender hand resting possessively on Dean’s knee, while Cas is left to sit alone the armchair. Cas can feel the distance between him and Dean, the inches turning into miles with each moment. He can feel Dean drawing into himself as Lydia explains what’s going to happen:

“You and Dean are done. I’ll appear with him publicly and denounce these claims as libelous rumors. We will say that you were obsessed with him and kept trying to push yourself onto him. He’ll file a restraining order against you—for appearance’s sake, you understand—and then we’ll keep moving forward with our political career, and you’ll disappear.”

Cas looks over to Dean, only to find his face an unreadable mask, but in his eyes…he sees it. Dean is going right along with this plan. And Cas didn’t think he would ever get to keep Dean, but he also didn’t count on the end shattering him quite so effectively.

He clears his throat and murmurs, “I understand. I’ll accept full responsibility.” He stands, not meeting either of their gazes. “I’ll burn the contract.”

“That might be best, dear,” Lydia agrees condescendingly.

Because what else is he supposed to do? He can’t have Dean; but he can’t hurt him either. That’s not how Cas does things. He can’t hurt someone he’s so desperately in love with. He flees the condo, leaving Dean and Lydia staring at each other with stony faces.

After that, he doesn’t leave his apartment for a week. He ignores the sudden influx of phone calls and emails. He doesn’t respond to his father’s angry texts about disgrace on the family name. He doesn’t deny his brothers’ jibes about his pointless feelings. The only one who doesn’t mock him is Gabe, who’s had his fair share of heartbreaks.

One of his father’s attorneys contacts him to prepare a statement to release to the press in retaliation to the shit storm that’s about to rise. According to Zachariah, the best thing would be to go public with the affair before Dean and Lydia get the chance to attack him and his reputation. Cas refuses. He’s already decided that he’s not going to hurt Dean, already given him his word that he’ll take the fall. He won’t go back on that.

Now all that’s left to do is wait for Dean to make the actual announcement. He doesn’t want to watch, and he determines not to. But then on the day of the press conference, he finds himself turning on the television. It’s like he has to hear the words that will end him, since he’s apparently some kind of masochist.

But when Dean steps up to the podium, his wife and child standing just behind him in a show of solidarity, he shocks everyone (except his wife, who he probably warned beforehand) by admitting to the affair. And even more, he announces his homosexuality…on national television. He admits that he won’t hide anymore, and he won’t keep “the man he loves” a secret anymore.

And Cas is astounded. He never imagined that it would happen like this. He never thought that he would ever get to see Dean again, but from the way Dean’s talking, Cas will not only get to see Dean again, he’ll actually get to keep him.

He’s still in shock when Dean ends the press conference, still numb when Dean texts him to meet. But he’s anything but numb and shocked when Dean steps through his front door with a dozen roses in hand. Cas flings himself at Dean, crushing the bouquet between them as he presses his mouth to the senator’s.

When they finally part, Dean admits that it was watching Cas walk out the condo door, broken and hurt, that changed his mind. He realized that he couldn’t do what Lydia wanted.

He warns Cas that it won’t be easy; there’ll still be the divorce and custody hearings for Emma, who Cas will finally get to meet. Dean doesn’t know if he’ll even keep his spot on the senate. But he knows that he wants Cas there by his side.

As he nuzzles their noses together, his mouth so close to Cas’s, he whispers, “Forgive me?”

Cas nods, tears clouding his vision as he replies, “Already done.”

Dean ducks in to claim a kiss, smiling against Cas’s mouth as he says, “I love you.”

“Love you back,” Cas promises.

“You’re mine now, Cas. No more contracts, no more boring accountants, no more hidden condos. We’re going to live out in the open, where everyone can see.”

He says it like a warning, like it’ll somehow scare Cas away after everything they’ve been through. But Cas can’t think of anything better.

The divorce gets settled quickly. The custody hearings take a little longer, but they work it out in the end. Cas loves little Emma, loves the weeks they get her in their home. It’s what prompts them to adopt their other three children in the years after Dean finishes his term.

Eventually Cas’s family accepts him back, and even Lydia and her new husband and two children become regular additions to their family gatherings. And those days, when they’re surrounded by this mish-mash of jumbled pieces that have assembled to become their family, that’s when Cas and Dean are the happiest.

It’s not always easy or simple, and there are still days that it feels like an uphill battle, but Cas and Dean are right there together for every step of the way up.

Over Again – Aomine Daiki

Miz Note: Angst, Trigger Warning (Alcohol, Child mention), Inspired by Secondhand Serenade (Fall For You)
Word count: 937

When did we get this hostile towards each other, Daiki?

How did it even became a routine for us to spit out words recklessly just to get the other seething with rage?

Everyday all of my energy was drained into pits of hell arguing with you. Don’t you ever get sick of it too?

You don’t have to tell me, because I knew. I knew you stayed out way too late just to avoid being trapped in another round of misery we would’ve put ourselves into. The bed that used to be full of two souls connected, now only lay the thin layer dust from the broken pieces of our hearts. It made me remember how all I felt was disgusted and deceived, to believe the sweet sound of your lies about how you told me a girl like me was impossible to find.

You came home to the sighs of having to spend another night in this cold room, but I, to the scent of another woman’s perfume. I tore me apart how much sweeter it was to your lies.

I never wanted this to happen to us, Daiki. I’m shaken and desperate, to feel what’s left of the love for me inside your heart. The love you used to give me, when you swore upon this ring that you won’t give up on me.

On us.

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Steve thinks they’re Orpheus and Eurydice with a happy ending: he marched right into Hell, defied Death itself, climbed into the sunlight and never looked back, so they both got out in this version.

That’s the problem though: He never looked back. He never saw that he wasn’t bringing back Eurydice – he was bringing back Persephone.

Schmidt and Zola forced Hell’s fruit down his throat, made him Death’s unwilling consort, and Bucky will never be able to fully climb out of that pit. He is never coming home from this war.

I thought you were dead, was the first thing Steve said, and Bucky looks at him some nights, sleeping on the goddamn ground with a goddamn smile, and wants to say, But I am. Oh, I am.

Wants to say, You didn’t save me. You couldn’t.

Wants to say, Be careful believing in miracles.

Steve marches them back into Hell over and over again, shield shining on his arm like the goddamn sun, and Bucky lies on his belly in the shadows, keeps Steve in his sights and chokes on the sickly-sweet blood of pomegranates in the back of his throat.

He is never coming home from this war.

You’re heroes, a kid tells them, and Steve’s smile lights up the whole damn camp, and Bucky thinks, But heroes don’t get happy endings. You stupid, stubborn, goddamn punk. You couldn’t stay home. You ruined it. You’re gonna end bloody like the rest of them.

But Steve stands in the sunlight, an untouchable god, and Bucky swallows down the blood and thinks maybe Steve will defeat this too: Maybe he’ll make it through unscathed, finally dance with a partner who wants him and build the life he always wanted.

And it won’t be with Bucky.

Because myths don’t have happy endings.

And he is never coming home from this war.

Is the Earth 6,000 Years Old, 9,000 Years Old, or 13,000 Years Old?
How biblical literalists get their numbers.

Rep. Paul Broun, R-Ga., called evolution “lies from the pit of hell” in a speech and argued that the Earth is 9,000 years old. Scientists have determined the Earth’s age is 4.5 billion years, based on evidence from meteorites and molecular decay rates. How do biblical literalists come up with their estimates?

Using Greek history. The Bible provides plenty of internal chronological information. Adam lived 930 years, and his son Seth 912 years. The Israelites lived in Egypt for 430 years “to the very day.” Saul reigned as king of Israel for 42 years. Summing up the dates is tedious, but it’s doable. The real challenge is that the Bible is a “floating chronology:” It doesn’t date the beginning or ending of its story. Irishman James Ussher, the 17th-century archbishop of Armagh, famously solved this puzzle by comparing events in the Bible with histories from other civilizations. Most critically, Ussher found a reference to the death of Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar in the Second Book of Kings. Ussher then used Ptolemy’s history of Babylonian kings, combined with Greek historical events of known dates, to pinpoint the death of Nebuchadnezzar in 562 B.C. Adding together the generations of Old Testament begetting and the reigns of kings, Usher surmised that 3,442 years passed between the creation and Nebuchadnezzar’s death. Ussher thereby arrived at his now famous estimate for the Earth’s creation: 4,004 B.C. He eventually went one step further, marking the Earth’s birthday as 6 p.m. on Saturday, Oct. 22, 4004 B.C.

Many biblical chronologists have come up with roughly similar estimates. Second-century St. Theophilus of Antioch guessed 5529 B.C. In his 1583 work De emendatione temporum, Frenchman Joseph Juste Scaliger put the creation in 3949 B.C. There are, however, occasional outliers. American doomsday evangelist Harold Camping believes that time began in 11013 B.C.

Most of these variations result from differences in Old Testament interpretation. For example, one of Ussher’s greatest dilemmas was choosing which text to follow. The Greek Septuagint version suggested that 2,242 years elapsed between the dawn of time and the biblical flood. Ussher rejected that estimate because, if it were accurate, Armageddon should already have occurred. (Seventeenth-century theologians thought the earth would end after 6,000 years.) The Samaritan Pentateuch suggested 1,307 years between the creation and the flood, but Ussher eventually went with the traditional Hebrew text’s 1,656-year-estimate. Harold Camping’s methodology in arriving at a vastly different date is perplexing. He added together the lifespans of Old Testament fathers and sons, assuming that their lives didn’t overlap.

It’s not clear how Rep. Broun settled on 9,000 years, but Ussher’s creation date of 4004 B.C. is by far the most cited. It was, and possibly remains, the most meticulous Bible-based calculation ever attempted. Ussher’s estimate for the death of Nebuchadnezzar is still the authoritative date. Perhaps more importantly, Ussher’s research yielded an auspicious number. Theologians and astronomers of his day estimated that Christ was born in the year 4 B.C., based on the mention of a lunar eclipse in the work of first-century historian Josephus. Ussher’s creation calculations thus suggested that precisely 4,000 years passed between the creation and the birth of the Christian messiah. The 1960 film Inherit the Wind also cemented Ussher’s place in the American imagination. In the movie, Matthew Harrison Brady insists on the witness stand that Ussher’s estimate is “literal fact.” When the crowd turns on him, Brady is reduced to hysterics, turning to his wife and memorably declaring, “They’re laughing at me, mother. I can’t stand it when they laugh at me!”


Things I expected to see during Super Bowl Twitter but still wasn’t ready for...
  • Misogynoir:This was just the light shit. Niggas talmbout “Beyonce don’t pay y’all bills.” “Beyonce overhyped” and “no straight niggas should be going up for Beyonce,” ”Y’all give her way too much” Sir, your girl wish she could say the same, ole in the avi wit a muscle shirt looking like a nightgown ass niggas. 
  •  Becky, Leslie Ann and the UGG crew: On twitter lying bout “Oh Beyonce just didn’t give me anything special with that performance. Bruno and Coldplay were the best part.”  LIES from the pit of hell. You just mad cause Yonce made a song that wasn’t meant for (or about) you, and yo 1 & 3 clappin ass posse, to shake y’all long ass backs to, Kimberly Noelle.
  • Police Unions Boycott of Beyonce/Halftime: #Fuck12,  next
  • Mayo Twitter “antagonizing” Cam and Bey: They got their checks already and yet here you are. Dry, under seasoned chicken and all in they mentions. You call Cam a thug when he’s confident and black as hell and say he’s acting like a “boy” when he won’t speak to you in a tough postgame loss interview like the wild animal y’all portrayed him as this whole season. Also y’all damn sure wasn’t worried about how Beyonce was dressed and the messages in her music 3 years ago? So what changed all of a sudden? And why the fuck y’all so mad that A NEGRO WOMAN pridefully said NEGRO on LIVE television, you don’t get to make that call.  From football to music, we can’t win with y’all (Check out @jemandthediazepams twitter for way better discussion on this.)
  • Activists/Academics still tryna dog “Formation”: I feel like there are times when you should just be quiet ESPECIALLY when you saying Macklemore’s White Privilege II sparked more “insightful dialog” than Formation because you wrote it off as “a de facto #BlackLivesMatter song” when it really wasn’t. Beyonce let us know, in her own way, she know what time it is, SHE DOES NOT HAVE TO COMPETE WITH J. COLE, AND KDOT TO PROVE THIS. Who made you the sole guardian of cultural awareness in black music, fam? Shut all the way the fuck up. (Shout out to @babycakesbriauna for trying to make that arrogant ass understand)
Psychotic - Chapter Two ❧ Dylan O’Brien

Warnings: Strong descriptions of gore

Chapter Two

Judith was in her dorm, lying face-down on her bed with her feet in the air and studying the book Dylan had shown her. It was too easy for her to become entranced in it as she read each caption under the photos. The captions explained the victims’ names (sometimes the lack there-of), a few of their birth dates and how they were killed. A few held more specific details - including the places they were found dead, if the killers were ever found and what certain pictures meant. With each picture, the more interested she became. 

Judith was currently set on a photo of a young, dark-haired women that was twistedly interesting due to the technique used in her killing. It revealed the gaping wound at her neck but that wasn’t what had spiked Judith’s interest. It was how the girl’s body had been strewn up like a puppet in the middle of a bedroom. Her arms were bound by the wrists and her body was hiked up just enough for the soles of her feet to lie flat on the ground. As Judith continued reading about the photo, a buzzing noise caused her to gasp as she nearly flung the book across the room.

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MakoRin Almost Drabble thing (700 words)

Rin is at least 98% sure he’s dating an honest to god demon. Behind that messy brown hair, adorable droopy bright green eyes, and soft smile that can melt even the coldest of hearts lies a fearsome demon from the darkest pits of hell you can imagine.  Makoto is a demon that was sent for the sole purpose of trying to break all that is Matsuoka Rin.

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Times Cas Saved the World

1. Essential to stopping Lucifer.

Got Dean out of hell, teleported him to Sam at the cost of his life which saved Sam from Lucifer, brought them back to the past to save their parents from Anna, cut off pestilence’s ring which enabled them to open the cage, threw holy fire at Michael at the cost of his life which enabled Dean to get Sam back in control at which point Sam jumped into the pit, ending the apocalypse.

2. Stopped Raphael from Restarting the Apocalypse all by himself while fighting literally everyone else.

Worked with Crowley to open Purgatory, lied to everyone to keep them from screwing it up, started a rebellion against Raphael, used his army to keep fighting against Raphael until he could open purgatory, killed Balthazar to keep him from messing up his plans, killed Rachel to keep her from messing up his plans, broke Sam’s wall to keep Dean from interfering with his world saving plans, betrayed Crowley to stop him from gaining any power, tricked Crowley and Raphael so they wouldn’t get the magic blood to open purgatory, got the purgatory souls and killed Raphael, ending his plan to restart the apocalypse.

3. Essential to stopping the Leviathans.

Gave his blood for the spell to kill Dick, identified Dick Roman when no one else could, helped Dean in the physical fight against Dick, which saved the world from being turned into happy meals for Leviathans.

4. Stopped Metatron w/ some help.

Came up with a plan to be Gadreel’s fake prisoner to get into heaven while Dean tried to distract Metatron, talked Hannah into letting him out of heaven jail, set up Angel Radio to hear Metatron’s speech turning the angels against him, smashed the angel tablet, saving the world from Metatron being its God and doing God knows what.

5. Stopped himself when he was Godstiel with a lot of help

Adding this last because it’s kind of controversial but once Cas became Godstiel he was not thinking clearly, Dean said it was “scrambling his brain”, and he wasn’t acting like himself, but there was a moment when he regained control of himself and decided to stop, he went to Sam and Dean and Bobby for help, and he released the purgatory souls, essentially saving the world from himself and from the explosion of all the monster souls into the world, of course he did not know the leviathans held on inside him but in my opinion this counts as him saving the world from millions of monsters exploding into the world instead of just leviathans and it was his intent to release all the souls. He also died for this.