Can I ask for some Soulmatuaverse Klaus & Ben crumbs for the 20-word-fic thing? I missed them like crazy in S4 :(
honestly same and absolutely you can! :) my soulmatua tag needs to be filled, if only to make up for whatever tf happened. only thing is this is way more than 20 words lol but i'm a pisces so i say yolo and here you go dear ! ♡
(also you didn't specify which ben so i went ahead with brelly ben but fun fact: klaus shares a soulmark with sparrow!ben too because they are kindred spirits in every universe.)
彡 KLAUS & BEN 𓂃 ⌗ soulmates. 𓄹
Peculiarly, while the timer on Ben's corpse has long stopped—a crude pointer of how far along Klaus was on October 14th 2006—the one he would see if he bared his arm now is still running down to null.
send me a duo and an au or circumstances and I’ll write a 20-word fic.
soooo. . . idk if anyone goes there but for those couple of people out there who might be interested in a little oinoya snack—
"Well, I like you a lot, so...!"
"Oh. Yuu-chan, you like me?"
"—we've been together for years, dumbass—"
"For my personality?" Oikawa presses, all big eyes and silken voice, his hands wandering under the hem of the tank top.
This is what the flat look on his face suggests, anyway, Adam considers himself fluent enough in Michaelic Body Language-On-Multiple-Planes-Of-Realities to know better and nudge him within their shared mindscape.
silly line from the fic i'm trying to finish in time for the exchange that i weirdly find worth patting myaelf on the back for.
howdy! c: so @tuometarr (hello there dear 💖) tagged me in this neat little thing called Fic Authors Self Rec, and— ngl i need to step up my game and write in english more often, but luckily i do have some midam fanfics posted, so. . .
here's my top 5 favorite fics I have written:
traditions ( ao3 / tumblr ) christmas one-shot i wrote for the first anniversary of 15x08. totally unplanned, yet weirdly enough it’s my favorite. probably because of the atmosphere and the way i don’t think about it and worry i got michael’s character completely wrong.
the star and the firefly ( tumblr ) very, very short. it literally is a 196 words flashfic, but it’s the very first thing i wrote about them after i caught up with the show and fell in love with their love, and it holds a lot of meaning. they be cute.
crescendo ( ao3 / tumblr ) wrote this for hug day, so that is the theme. it’s packed with little scenes that go through their entire time together, so obviously it includes the finale, too. it’s canon divergence at the very end though, because i will never go 100% along with canon. i see it as a sort of stream of consciousness, and i didn’t think it was much at first, but i warmed up to it pretty quickly.
unpredictability ( ao3 / tumblr ) random one-shot i wrote for midam week 2021. canon divergence, with some god!michael crumbs because i said so, plus... ikea furniture. much to adam’s delight lol. it really is nothing much, but i’m fond of it anyway.
early mornings ( ao3 / tumblr ) i think this is around 700 words. slice-of-life based on a headcanon about one of the perks of living with your archangel bf inside of you that came to me out of the blue one day. it’s so random i was probably stressing about exams, so it should be good to read. again, they’re funny and cute, in their own way!
i only included the fics i wrote in english, which...made picking and ranking a little harder lol. i’m not sure who has been tagged already, so i’m going to tag: @witchern, @adammilligan, @ckneal, @fandom-space-princess and the loml @jewishadammilligan.
no pressure, of course! and if any of you guys has already been tagged i’m sorry, feel free to ignore this. if anyone hasn’t done this already and would like to try, consider yourselves tagged! i am always eager to read or re-read other people’s works! 💖
hello anon, since you asked!, let's get spooky and gay 😎
fair warning that this turned out longer than i intended but i'm posting it anyway, have these random silly hcs and do whatever you deem appropriate with them!
okay one thing you need to do is forget about angsty endings. they'll be living the rest of their (eternal given the circumstances) lives together and by doing so, they get to have their own little house and job because hey, adam's college courses won't pay themselves, and neither will the groceries. so anyway, october comes along!
let's be real: when you've spent more than 1,200 years in hell you have a bit of a different perception of what is scary but oh, does adam like halloween! maybe it's his old soul talking but the atmosphere is nice, and he and michael? they go on walks when the occasion presents itself, be it at the local park nearby or somewhere the archangel can take them with a beat of his wings, with adam holding a hot drink or a sweet bun and autumn colors setting a warm, stark je-ne-sais-quoi on michael's apparition. they basically go on dates no matter how casual they are about it.
the aforementioned hot drink is more often than not a pumpkin spice latte and you have no idea how persistent adam had to be to get michael to take a sip and try it out. he eventually humored him, accepted the cup, and. . . he didn't like it much, but it was better than the skittles and at least someone found the experience entertaining.
the heart eyes and fond exasperation are fucking real y'all
also, you know that michael keeps adam's body temperature in check, so he doesn't feel the cold, neither of them does. well, they still wear slightly heavier clothes and a scarf an old neighbor gifted them once (well, it was meant for adam, but y'know—) just "for the hell of it". and just so you get the visual, vessel and apparition always match lol.
another reason to take your archangelic lover out during spooky season: there are people, but especially their children, around. michael can perfectly tell that that little zombie over there is nothing more than a normal kid, same for the teen zombie on his left, and he is still fairly neutral about humans for the most part, but the concept in on itself picks at his curiosity and it's... amusing, in a way. it's a bit of a combination of being fascinated and questioning for him really, most human customs are. the first time around especially—it was so funny to adam!
now, moving on: don't get me started on the show tunes. they're even more infectious than the christmas ones, as a matter of fact and oddly enough michael finds them more tolerable. which is lucky because otherwise, adam humming 'i put a spell on you' by hocus pocus frequently would be way more annoying than it is endearing.
also, no kidding, if he's feeling playful and up to sing out loud at the top of his lungs adam will 100% do it and mimic the lyrics (he honestly didn't remember that song to be so catchy) and though michael manages to look unimpressed and amused at best the kid really should have no right to come across as flirtatious as he does. adam's mission in life and source of entertainment is managing to crack michael up to the point where he probably will end up getting himself flustered instead so that's a daily occurrence in the privacy of their own home these days!
what else? well, of course, their normal movie nights turn into halloween themed movie nights once or twice a week. because it's not like adam remembers the movies he watched when he was alive anyway, and what kind of guide would he be if he let michael go without watching the addams family or the copse bride, come on! they take turns picking a movie, too, so to be fair, michael brought casper on himself. adam may or may not have felt like crying for that one.
the history behind halloween traditions is very fascinating actually; adam doesn't remember much of it if anything at all, but rest assured michael looked it up on the internet and read some books while adam was sleeping (all in the same night, yes, adam always makes a point to wait at least a week before returning michael's books to the library). so he's not at all confused when adam brings up the idea to carve some pumpkins. he used to do it with his grandparents and mom when he was little and. . . well, it'd be fun right?
spoiler: it is fun! meaning it's hilarious how michael gives out observations and objective opinions and adam rolls with it completely ignoring that he's being helped in picking pumpkins by the oldest most powerful multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent in existence. nonetheless, he can totally carry the pumpkins they chose himself, thank you very much. except they're not playing macho man here, so it doesn't take much convincing before they switch control and the people around see this blonde dude making a confident beeline for the exit with a heavy armful of pumpkins as if it was nothing.
they carve a couple of pumpkins together. adam shows michael how it's supposedly done first, only for michael to go for it like a pro because hey, he's good with blades, we know that! and he's also good with his hands. well, adam's hands. or, huh, his apparition's hands. you get my point, anyway— i can totally envision them carving the first pumpkin together, michael subtly making sure adam doesn't cut himself, and then one each afterward. it's really all about the activity itself and the "i think i'm done! look at my pumpkin, isn't it great?" at the end.
one of the carved pumpkins doesn't get lit up with a candle inside because their cat (yes, they have a cat. his name's midam) decided to make it his new second home and refused to get out of it.
"well, you made the eyes big enough for him to fit in, kid."
the others look neat when they set them up and michael turns off the lights with a snap of his fingers though! it's definitely worth the mess in the kitchen from when adam playfully threw (read: tried to throw) a bit of pumpkin flesh at michael.
side note but i can't help but think that michael saw one or two memories of a five-year-old adam making little ghosts out of paper napkins, a marker, and a string, and so one day there is one hanging by the lamp on the desk. i don't know why, but their cat has one too that he rolls and chases around everywhere so i'm adding this lol.
stuff is baked, too, obviously! i'm talking about anything you can put the remaining parts of the pumpkins in but also cinnamon, chocolate. . . we know adam has a sweet tooth after all, and this way, michael nags him a bit less for his eating habits!
no, really, you don't understand: trick or treat is a thing and so the sweets are mandatory, but the amount of unhealthy sugars adam puts in their shopping cart at the beginning of the month is sickening.
for this bit specifically, let's skip forward in time! more or less, either five-ish years or any moment in time from then on, when adam has a stable job at a hospital. nurse, doctor... eternity is vast and they need to move around every two decades or so, so take your pick. the thing is, dr. milligan is, to put it simply, weird. he's nice, but sometimes his mood swings completely and he has his quirks. when october comes along, there is one of them!
one of the nurses says that this habit of his reminds them or their granny — "or most old people i know." — to which adam shrugs and idly says he's an old soul anyway. he's only half-joking; after all, he is an old soul, and that must be the reason why across him, michael's apparition stands looking every bit unimpressed.
he has his hands in the pockets of the white coat of his apparition; pockets that, differently from adam's, are empty.
the archangel reckons that carrying all that sugary sweets in the pockets of their white coats and clothes is better than adam wanting to eat them all himself. he tosses a whole lot of them in the shopping cart when they go out for groceries at the beginning of the month. michael was so astonished at first, that he projected himself out of their body and watched in disdain as their cart filled up with treats: candy, lollipops, gummy bears, chocolate and/or caramel bars etc.
then he pointed out that halloween night was still far, to which adam replied, "true. but these are also for work."
i'm literally going down with this headcanon, it's the sole reason why i'm still ranting because listen, adam may not be the absolute best with children, but the hospital isn't a very happy place to be in, to begin with, so he goes about his day, does his job, and when he's done fixing up some stitches or drawing blood or visiting a patient, he. . . trick-or-treats them! puts a hand in his pocket or, sometimes borrowing michael's grace, pulls a treat out of nothing, and then he hands it to the kid. and it makes every single one of them so happy!
michael watches over the scene with fondness every time, and meanwhile, over the weeks, adam becomes quite popular among the younger patients of the hospital. really! i'm convinced that once, after they had traded control of their body so adam could rest for ten minutes during a long shift, michael felt a tug at their white coat, and when he looked down he found one of the children. he remembers every room number and face, so he recognized them immediately, and it was so funny because he stood there, quirked an eyebrow, shoved a hand in adam's right pocket without breaking eye contact, and then gave this little kid in pokémon pjs a kinder bueno. only to receive a toothy smile and a 'thank you, doctor!', to which he nodded and said, 'you're welcome.'
adam tuned in not even ten seconds after, all mirth and "they're adorable at that age, right?" y'know, like the little shit of a loving husband he is <3
one more thing and then i swear i'm done: i want them to have friends who they can trust enough to be open about being two people in a body and all, and in all of eternity there are people like that! this means there are also halloween parties, but even if there weren't, even if they just decided to go out on halloween night, adam will absolutely do his best to get michael in a costume. one that isn't a trash bag because they're not dressing up as their fathers thank you. just because why the hell not, right?
his most heartfelt attempt is a set of devil horns that adam finds hilarious on michael (and frankly quite attractive, but don't tell him i told you this) and that michael hates. adam's literally over there cackling about how michael’s the 'speck of infernal bile' now and michael’s just sitting there with this headband on his head like, "okay. time to erase this thing from existence," except he eventually only sighs and grumbles while he lets adam have fun for a bit. but the fork will have to go.
i'm also convinced that they're such cryptids, and they seem so weird from an outsider's point of view, that one day they'll be the mysterious unsettling owner of the spooky house at the end of the street or up the hill or just outside of town who occasionally pops in to buy some milk. or maybe somewhere in the world, in the future, they'll be one of the local legends or something. either way, i'm done! :D
me: i have no time to write.
also me, 1 hour later: i'm gonna fail this exam but look what i did :)
for midam week 2k21, day 1: expectations. (...well, kinda)
(psa that this is canon divergence, take any knowledge you have of the end of 15x17 up to the end of 15x19 and throw it in the trash can where it belongs <3)
One of the many truths about life nowadays is that assumptions are a waste of time, but apart from malicious cases, it's generally not a sin or a fault to assume something: it's inherent to human nature, correlated to the natural instinct of making hypotheses and being curious. So really, questioning and wondering is good, but in some cases, it really is pointless.
When everything is said and done, and Amara and Michael exchange a curt nod and a look that aren't a reconciliation yet, but don't seem cold or hateful either, for all their divergencies the archangel—or, well, technically God—does spare the Winchester brothers a look that seems to say, no, assert: don't mess anything up and if you do, don't bother praying.
Adam's presence at the back of his mind, inside their body, only does so much to mellow it. He is too tired to bother, actually, so the message is pretty clear.
Anyway, between a moment and the next a brief conversation seems to go through between archangel and human.
(“Man, I hope I never have to see them again.”)
(“If anything's amiss the only person who needs to contact me is Amara, so don't worry about it, kid.”)
(“Oh, okay, cool. Wait, hang on, what time is it again?”)
Then, out of the blue, Michael simply announces, “We'll be off.”
And it's not like they're planning on having a celebratory dinner together, but it's been, what, ten minutes?
Dean squints at him, and Sam asks, “Wait, where are you going?”
A bright flash of blue and the change of posture bring Adam to the front. His only reply is a hurried and curt, “I have class!”, and that... literally is the sum of it because then they're both gone in a flutter of powerful wings.
No one there expected the last time they spoke to play off like that.
Had there been some kind of actual bond or instance of caring between the three brothers, Sam and Dean would probably have been worried about Adam's state of mind.
As it is, they're just left weirded out and bewildered for the entirety of twenty minutes. And Adam, well, he does have classes to attend.
“...and a useless piece of paper with the instructions to put this thing together. Seriously!”
“You know I can have it done and ready in an instant, right?”
It turns out if there is any trait that resembles humanity Adam still has and, in fact, shares with the rest of his kind, that's the struggle of building an IKEA furniture. Michael knows that thing is supposed to be a desk, but it looks anything but one.
The floor of their bedroom is basically invisible with the exception of the area near the window Michael is currently occupying and the bed, and Adam is currently fidgeting with a screwdriver. He casually points it in Michael's general direction and waves it around without looking at him.
“Yeah, I know, but you don't need to, halo. I got this,” he says.
“Hhm,” Michael blinks, vaguely amused and fond, but mostly blunt when he inspects the pieces of wood and says after a minor, hushed curse escapes Adam's mouth, “I don't think you got this.”
Adam sighs, frustrated because he really needs to get this thing built and he's trying. It's not like he's going to have a mental breakdown for not being great at building a desk — let's be clear — he's just. . . well, it's only been a week since the almost end of the world. Okay?
“Rome wasn't built in a day, it's fine,” he insists.
Michael's grace engulfs him, soothingly. The sensation and the pulse of warmth are subtle enough to suggest that he senses a little part of that human soul he cares about so deeply is hurting a little, but knows he doesn't need to hover. He's just there.
“That's a desk, not Rome.”
Michael's voice is honey-like, a vessel of the affection that he carries in his very core and that, under his attentive gaze, seems to help wash away part of Adam's tension. Michael's mind may be preoccupied with even more matters nowadays, their visits to Heaven are a concrete testimony of that, but his main focus lies to his right, where Adam is. Where the only person he has left, the only one who cares about him and who Michael cares for in return, is.
“Well, shit, I have all eternity to get better at this,” is Adam's final statement, before he tosses the instruction paper aside and looks at Michael, bright blue eyes filled with resilience and humor, and a smile that makes his cheeks pop up endearingly and the room so much brighter.
(And he's not even aware of it.)
Adam pats the spot next to him. “Alright. But no archangel magic.” He blinks, then adds, “Or godly.”
He briefly thinks he should put that on a shirt.
Swiftly and not even a moment later, Michael's apparition is at his side, on the floor. Quiet mirth smoothes the lines of his face when he imperceptibly quirks a brow in humor and hums, “If you insist.”
He is so close that their thighs touch, and a buzzing feeling passes through at the contact. They both know what it is by now.
Captivated, Adam watches as Michael idly takes initiative.
“Here, you had the wrong pieces.”
And, well, indeed, isn't that a sight to behold! But then again, that's their thing, isn't it? The entirety of their story — because that's what everyone is, at the end of the day. And it's not necessarily bad, it's just another way to see life as a journey. Your journey, your story; no one else's.
(Not even God's. No, he stopped having a say in their story a long time ago, and there is a new one now anyway. A God who isn't a writer so much as he is a protector.)
They trace it together; build it, write it down, sear it among the stars themselves. Together, little by little, and like I was saying, that has always been kind of their thing: unpredictability.
okay, hear me out for a sec. i had a thought. and instead of explaining it to you i went and wrote almost 700 words about it. <3
based on the hc that michael (i'd say angels in general) has such sharp senses he literally can see the stars during the sunlight hours — like this and this. here ily.
Adam and Michael like early mornings. Granted, Adam would much rather sleep in instead of being woken up by the first rays of sunshine filtering through the blinds, and he grumbles quite a bit about it. But dawns are precious — they must be, given how enthralled and contemplative Michael seems when he looks at them.
Adam can understand why, to be honest: he often catches Michael glancing at the sky outside their window or above their heads when they're somewhere outside, especially when the sun sets and little by little, the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening heavens. It's not homesickness — not anymore at least — but it certainly blooms into something softer and a little sweeter when the Sun rises up and pools in the room, painting shadows and bringing warm caresses.
Michael doesn't even blink, his grace rumbling gently in Adam's chest like steady ocean waves crashing on the shore. He keeps drawing arabesques with his fingers in Adam's hair, an abandoned book in his other hand until he finally averts his impossibly blue eyes and looks down at Adam.
It's not much different than looking at the Sun if you ask him.
Early mornings are hopeful; the air is crisp and fresh and filled with smells that the archangel may not pay attention to himself, but Adam loves them — the enveloping scent of fresh-baked bread and croissants, the strong aroma of brewed coffee. . . Adam always, subconsciously, takes them in while they stroll along an almost empty street or a plaza in whatever corner of the world they're currently visiting.
It makes him smile in a way that is just so content (a perfect match to his soul), Michael can't help but manifest next to him, his apparition close enough to touch, his mouth twitching, and his eyes slightly crinkling.
Sometimes, one of them looks up at the sky — mostly Adam, who is now more than ever the furthest from the idealistic and naive type who walks with his nose in the air, but knows that Michael wouldn't let him walk into a street lamp or anything of the sort. Or, well, he never did so far.
Michael just walks, crouching a little less than he did before — although he will never stop doing it completely — and lets a strand of his grace be gently tugged by the human soul cuddled up within his truest self's embrace.
'Can I?' the soul asks, stubborn in doing so no matter what.
Either out loud — his voice low and dripping a honey-like drop of fondness — or through their mental link or his grace, Michael answers: 'Go for it, kid.'
A speck of celestial grace tingles nearer the front of their mind, enough so that Adam's already enhanced senses perk up — his irises becoming a little bluer as the world becomes even more detailed and clearer to him. It can normally be very, very overwhelming, but early mornings are quieter, and he's just looking at the twinkling stars glimmering among the sunlit sky.
Among all the perks of having an archangel inside of him, being able to try and see the world from his perspective — as much as possible, anyway — will never cease to be astonishing. And, sure, Adam is used to hearing and feeling too much for any normal human being as it is; he can make out the vague silhouettes of the stars closer to the Earth sometimes, but never like this. Not even close.
It's stupidly pretty and insanely incredible. Adam chuckles in wonder, blinking and nudging Michael's arm with his own, their hands brushing. "Man, no wonder you stare at it so much!"
"It is pretty, yes." Michael concedes, glancing upwards for a moment before looking inwards, within them, for just as long. "But I've seen better," he adds, idly and objectively. Somewhere in there, Adam suspects, even smugly, too.
Adam looks down all of a sudden, his biology enthusiast side perking up. He smirks, bright and endeared and a little daring. "Yeah? Show me sometime?"
Michael huffs a half-laugh, stardust and affection burning in his core, and humor dancing on the set of his shoulders.
"Anytime."
( And it sure as hell is, indeed, something like nothing any human has ever seen or will ever see. )
