#god!chuck

[sweetonsugden]

So, I finally finished my rewatch and as with my last rewatch I absolutely REFUSE to watch 15x20. Nope, not happening.

My tiny pet peeve is that in 15x19 Dean demanded that Chuck bring Cas back. But then when Jack became the new “God”, he did ask him for Cas.

Whatthefuckever.

[jokingmisfit]

Chuck 2.0

Chuck Shurley x Reader

Prompt- “Can I come in? I’m worried.”

Based on the theory that Chuck was just a prophet who became God!Chucks vessel. Basically, the reader was Chuck's friend and noticed he wasn’t answering calls and acting differently so they went to check on him.

It wasn't uncommon for Chuck to ignore calls or miss plans, but this felt different. He was always nervous and apologetic when he got to caught up in writing and ended up missing things. Recently, however, he hasn't even called back and sent texts saying "leave me alone im busy."

That's how I found myself here. I couldn't put aside the gut feeling something was wrong. Chuck has always been an introvert, yet something feels wrong. I just need to make sure he's okay.

I press down the rim off my shirt, and I press the doorbell, holding it longer than needed. Of course I'm nervous. I don't know what's going on with him. This sudden change is alarming.

I can hear him shuffling around. He, finally, opens the door. He looks at me annoyed then confused. I ring my hands together.

“Can I come in? I’m worried.”

He furrows his brows and and frowns.

"Why?"

I stare back. I sigh, "Just, please let me in."

"No." He said while narrowing his eyes.

"Chuck, please... I care about you and you're shutting me out... More than you ever have. I care about you too much to just let you walk out of my life. I don't understand what's going on with you but I'm here for you and if I did something please tell me and I'll fix it."

Standing here with him only makes me feel worse. It's like he's someone completely different. It's terrifying. I just want my friend back.

His face softens a bit, but it barely looks genuine. "Alright, come in."

He moves from the doorway, and I start walking in. As he closes the door I look around.

Everything is a lot cleaner than how Chuck normally keeps it. "You cleaned up... A lot." I let out a nervous laugh.

He looks around. "I got annoyed with the clutter." There's an air of tension surrounding him.

"Have you been sleeping?" I ask, "I know sometimes when you don't sleep you get restless and irritated."

"I've been sleeping fine, thank you." He didn't seem interested or genuine.

This is starting to piss me off. "So are you going to tell me what's going on or are you going to continue acting like... like whatever the hell this act is. You're freaking me out."

I draw my arms close and hug myself. Chuck and I never drifted apart or argued. We got along well because we understood each other. It's why we were best friends.

"Chuck, please, what's going on?" I can feel my eyes sting. I can feel my throat tighten.

Chuck walks closer. He grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. I can't help but notice he melts into it quicker than I could.

"I'm writing Lucifer's, Michael's, Sam's, and Dean's final fight." He whispers. "It's stressful knowing that everything I write is really happening."

I pull away and cup his face. "I'm so sorry Chuck... I can't imagine what that's like. I guess I didn't really consider what you were going through. I'm so used to the normal things it slipped my mind all the unnatural things you go through."

He lends me a smile, it actually looks genuine this time. "I'll be okay. We're going to be ok."

"Good, because we have missed so many movie nights" I say, sighing out a laugh and Chuck huffs one out as well.

And when I saw the slight glimpse in his eyes I decided to ignore it for ignorant bliss.

[fandom-is-my-game]

Just Imagine...

Author's Note: Hello, beans!!! Introducing my female OC!! I will slowly be reposting some of my favorite/most pivotal imagines coded with my OC.

Amael stands in silence.

Aching for acceptance in the raging storm.

Amael's father (...Papa?...) stands stoic yet impatient. Hands held behind his back. Face looks calm and angry and tired, slightly softening during his first look at his daughter in eons.

“Chuck,” she says crisply. An annoyed look flicks over his face. “Ah,” Amael continues narrowly, “I see. You think I test you. But, how can I call you father--that which you have never been?”

“Why would I be a father to someone who has never been a daughter?” he spits viciously, yet his face miraculously remains unchanged. “You never wanted to be mine, Amael. Always wanted to take your loyalty elsewhere.”

“Loyal?! You think I did not also want you just to accept,” she pauses as she looks beyond the vortex at her husband, “to accept me.” Amael heaves a tense and frustrated breath. “It has always been about who will follow you blindly. And when I chose your favorite son over you--through all of his faults and disappointments--you betrayed me.”

Chuck is giving her a very sharp stare.

“Then he saw how much I loved your precious humans.” Amael's mind wanders to the past; gives a shake of her head. “He abandoned me. He is so very much like you.”

A flash of ugly, loathsome anger on Chuck's features.

“Amael, you could never imagine why I made you. In fact, I did not know myself until you were gone. I ached and emptied like rolling waves without any water.” He starts to move towards her, her fists clenched tightly.

“I wanted something that was free, something to make selfless decisions that I never could, something that...” Here Chuck breaks off to calm his steadily rising voice. “I wanted someone who could give me perspective.”

Amael is now staring at him with a mix of confusion and anger. Her father's words seem to drift over her, not quite computing quick enough.

“So, I made a daughter,” Chuck continues. “I took my newest and most bushy-tailed creation--”

“And you tore...us...in half,” she finishes breathlessly.

There is a deliberate, cold stillness. Wind continues to cycle though there is no sound. Power emanates, defying physics.

Chuck smirks. Shakes his finger with impatience.

"You are what I make you," Chuck states plainly. He seems to be looking through her to past memories.

At this, Amael begins to lose interest in whatever anger she held. Quickly that melts to pity bordering on disgust.

"Tell yourself whatever lies you must," she retorts, "in order to write your stories. But eons have passed since any of us have been, let alone looked, as what you created."

Chuck inhales with a hiss, face contorts in annoyance. He puts a firm and commanding hand in the air.

"Just...stop. Enough of your insolent--"

"Why must you never listen?" she cuts in. "We are not playthings. I am not a device that you--"

"Amael, ENOUGH!!"

Suddenly she feels a harsh power coming from (...what..is..) somewhere near her. All around. No, from (...this?....) her. All the wounds healed. All the resentment funneling into a serene sense of focus. Amael gives him a steeling look.

"Ironic," she says smugly, "is that fear I see growing on your graying face?"

Chuck's composure disappears. Squirms like a mouse in the mouth of a dragon.

"You don't understand. Your power..." Chuck was speaking so quietly yet he words were clear. As he trails off, she smirks.

"You want it? You can have it. Nothing but a curse, these (..gifts?..) powers."

"They were never meant to be," Chuck says with sadness.

Though Amael does not want to believe he may be telling the truth, there is an old memory sparking. Looking at him more openly, with genuine interest she asks, "Why did you make us?"

"Why Casael?"

"All of it. Why us? Out of all of the lesser angels?"

Chuck smirks in his reminiscence.

"You are older than you realize. The archangels; they were all so celestial. So uptight and envied my benevolence. I wanted something humble and creative and selfless."

"You wanted something you could not control."

Amael had never been so confused and in awe, yet there seems to be more to his explanation.

Looking down almost bashfully, Chuck sighs, "Yes, I made Caseal. Your brothers thought I was mad...well, more so than normal. Your creation reverberated throughout the heavens. Turning all I had created into nothing and everything simultaneously. Eons of this chaos. I had no idea what to do. Taking all of my power just to counteract what was happening."

He laughs as if the memory awakens a fondness, but also nerves.

"All the other universes," he finishes, "have versions of this being but never had I tried to split it."

"You talk as though you enjoy the chaos and the challenge. You threw Lucifer out because he wanted chaos. You locked me out because I followed."

"NO!" Chuck is angry, impatient. "Amael, listen! He followed you. I believe you forced yourself to forget. You need to see it."

The storm stills and there is nothing, just white. Faded figures, but becoming more solid.

"You need to see..." Chuck's voice fades. The silence giving way to a muffled shout. Chuck's shout. Four figures, (no...five) one more kneeling.

(Luci)

But here is the beginning of the truth. Amael kneels beside the archangel, surrounded by others.

Supernatural beans: @bloodydaydreamer @casinthegarden @evemarie05 @gabby913 @reginamillsloyalsubject @saratour @sebastianshoe @tfwqueenidjit

[guildwarsgirl]

Chuck: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Chuck Shurley lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the god who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my angels to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

[narisjournal-blog]

These Nights

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Chuck x Reader

Fluff

Words: 1685

Notes: This was a request from honestly years ago and I’m such an asshole for only just posting this - I’m so so sorry. I haven’t included the name or request as it was quite personal. You know who you are :) This is of course a soft, fluffy, loving Chuck from before The Twist in Supernatural. 

Thanks for reading!

***

Warm water cascaded over your hair and your shoulders, soaking you in a chaotic, relentless stream. 

You had long finished your shower but still you stood unmoving in its grasp.

It was cold out there and dark. You held onto the reprieve a little longer.

You gave a heavy sigh.

‘I wish you would show your face,’ you said. ‘I wish... I need...’ 

you sighed again, shaking your head. 

Standing up, you turned off the shower and stepped out. 

You grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped it round you, shivering. 

Once in your pyjamas you sat heavily on your bed and towelled at your hair. You gave up quickly and curled up on your bed, letting the tears flow. All you could see behind tightly closed lids was his face. Those big blue eyes, both gentle and stern at the same time. Chuck- the god you never knew you needed. 

What would he think of you now? You so desperately wanted to see him, but not like this. He would be so disappointed, you thought. 

‘I wish I could be what you want me to be,’ you choked out. 

You always intended to pray before bed; to check in, pay respects and show you were thankful. Like in the movies, knelt by your bed, peaceful and worthy. 

But it never worked out like that. The more you thought about what you wanted to say, the more overwhelmed you became and realised he would never have the time to sit and listen to all of that. 

You began to shiver, partly from your damp hair but mostly from the despair that was taking hold of you.

You felt the mattress dip and you gasped. Then you felt a warm hand on your back and his calm took over you.

You looked up into big blue eyes, full of concern. 

‘Do you really believe that?’ Said Chuck softly. ‘That I don’t have time for you?’

‘It’s not... I mean... I’m just a giant waste of your time. I’m sorry,’ you cringed. 

‘Please,’ He said. ‘Don’t ever apologise for existing.’ Chuck gave your arm a squeeze. ‘And no, you’re not.’

You wiped your eyes and sat up.

‘You have far more important things and I’ve dragged you here.’

‘With all due respect, y/n, you don’t get to tell me how to spend my time.’

You couldn’t look in his eyes long. They broke you. There was so much love that you just couldn’t handle. 

Your shame made you wish you were alone again. 

‘But you don’t really want me to leave, do you?’ He stated softly. 

You continued looking down at the bed.

After an abnormally long silence you gave the smallest shake of your head and sighed. 

‘Is there anything you want to talk about?’ He said, hand resting on your back just below your damp hair.

You shrugged and stuttered. ‘I ... there’s...’ 

So much, you thought. But I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around it. 

You knew he could hear you.

You know what, sometimes I’m just so tired of trying to figure this all out or having to figure out what I mean or where I belong. Sometimes I need you to just tell me! Sometimes I need...

‘Sometimes words are hard. I understand.’

You held your forehead in your hands, as if in some desperate attempt to hide your face. The man was infuriating. You wanted to scream at him, but all you could do was huff out a breath. He could feel you shaking by now. 

‘But you know sometimes the best way to figure things out and understand your needs is to talk. Even if it seems stupid or redundant to you in this moment.’

‘You’re God,’ you almost whispered. ‘You know everything. It is redundant.’

This is why you were better alone. You drew your knees up to your chest and buried your face in your arms.

‘Look you can just go,’ you mumbled. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

He obviously knew what you were going through but was choosing not to help and you felt embarrassed you had even thought about bringing him here. 

After a long silence you realised his hand had not moved from your back. 

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ 

You lifted your head and chanced a glance sideways at him. Your gaze was met by the brightest blue and a rush of warmth and love flooded you again. You looked away.

‘Ok, here’s a deal. You tell me about one thing that’s on your mind and then no more talking, I promise. Deal?’

You sighed heavily. You spoke as the words formed in your mind, slowly and broken up.

‘I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I feel like...’ you swallowed the lump In Your throat but it didn’t stop your voice from cracking.

‘I feel like I’m not ... not good enough at anything... like I just...’ your voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Take up space.’ 

Chuck rested his head against yours and pulled you into him closer with a sigh. 

He kissed the top of your head and pulled back, brushing hair from your face. His eyes connected with yours and you felt a weight lift of your chest before he had even spoken.

‘Y/N, you matter so much to me. I created you and I have no regrets. I am proud of you every single day because of how strong you are.’

You looked away. ‘I’m not.’

‘Don’t argue with me,’ he said, his voice firm and authoritative now.

Your head whipped back up, surprised by his tone.

Piercing blue charged right through to your soul when he looked into your eyes now.

‘You are strong,’ he affirmed. ‘Strong doesn’t feel easy. You’re stronger than you know.’

Tears began to spill once more, but this time it felt like freedom. For that moment as he held you, you felt truly safe. Loved.

He continued. ‘It might not be clear now. You feel a little lost, I can see that. Trust me. I’ve got you, and you have so much purpose.’

Your shoulders shook as you cried, and he squeezed you once more. Without speaking, he helped you dry your hair, holding you when you shivered.

‘Can you make it warmer?’ you whispered, teeth chattering. He chuckled, pulling the bedcovers back and helping you into bed.

You lay down, curled up on your side and felt Chuck’s warmth move through you as he lay next to you.

You didn’t need to say anything else. You just lay there, allowing yourself to feel safe and relaxing fully for the first time in maybe years. Chuck stroked your hair and said softly, ‘You haven’t been sleeping too good.’

His hand rested on your forehead and you felt a peace radiate from his palm.

‘Goodnight,’ he whispered as you felt your eyelids close and the calm of sleep envelope you.

**

It was already light when you woke, which hadn’t happened for a very long time. Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. Your mind slowly uncoiled itself and you rolled onto your back to find the bedsheets beside you cold. He was gone. Of course he was gone.

Had he really meant all those things, or was he just trying to get some peace away from your spiralling thoughts?

You breathed in deeply, trying not to let your mind poison the calm you had felt with him and – was that cinnamon you smelled? You sat up. It was definitely cinnamon. Sweet cinnamon, and you could hear music. No, singing. You could hear singing.

Pulling a hoodie on, you stood up and made your way downstairs towards the sound.

And there in your kitchen, pulling something out of the oven and humming to himself, was Chuck.

He turned as you entered and beamed. ‘Right on time,’ he said.

‘Did you make cinnamon buns?’

‘I know how much you love them, but never have the energy to make them.’ He placed the tray down on the heat proof mat on the side. Mixing bowls lay strewn clumsily about the sink. Of all the thoughts you could have had in that moment, you honestly wondered if God was going to wash the dishes.

‘You’ve made a mess,’ you added, nodding in that direction.

Chuck raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.

‘I mean… Thank you,’ you garbled. ‘I- thank you. I love them.’ You surveyed the kitchen once again.

‘But couldn’t you just, you know…’ you pointed your finger, indicating using his powers.

‘Ah, that’s no fun,’ he shrugged.

Chuck leaned across to the cafetiere you had forgotten you had and pushed the top down.

‘I thought you’d have gone. I was expecting you to be gone when I woke up.’

Chuck smiled again. ‘I’m never really gone, you know,’ he said. He poured coffee into a mug and handed it to you, the heat sharp against your palm. ‘I’m always here. Next time you taste coffee, remember this moment.’

You sipped the strong liquid and savoured the taste.

‘Next time you lie in bed feeling alone, remember me there next to you.’

‘Next time I wash the dishes, I’ll remember when you used my kitchen,’ you said with a smirk.

‘Next time you taste a cinnamon bun’- you cut him off.

‘I get the idea, Chuck. So are those ready to eat, or what?’

He chuckled as he divided them onto plates and guided you over to the kitchen table.

And for the first time in forever, the day ahead was filled with hope and the promise that you were not doing this alone.

***

Tags:

(I hope I’ve got my list right, I may have missed a few changes people have requested - if I have I’m sorry. My list is a clusterfuck tbh.)

Everything list:

@afanofmanystuffs

@trashforwinchesters

@yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend

@natasha-cole

@greenappleeyes

@bisexualdolphinthings

@i-dont-understand-that-url

@misszombicorn

@lucerospn1detc

@robjackface

Rob/chuck list:

@tas898

@destielschild

@girl-next-door-writes

@winchestergirl-13

@a-banana-for-your-thoughts

@jelly-beans-and-gstrings

@kocswain

@gettingbywithalittlehelp96

@itsfunnierin-enochian

@rblstrash

@megthemewlingquim

@holamishamigos

[waywardwinchesters]

Things wrong and right with “Inherit the Earth”

Wrong:

Everything that happened with Michael/Adam

Amara being alive but having what seems to be no free will or body anymore

Jack just...Leaving?

Almost no mention of Cas

Lucifer back??? Just to be killed again???

The dogs first fate

CAS DOESNT COME BACK?!?!?!

The anticlimactic fight scene

The whole purpose of the season was to get rid of god entirely but now jack is god

Right

Chucks ending. I like how he was forced to become human, aka the things he considers play toys

Jack lives

Amara lives sorta

The little montage was cute and made me happy sad

[lolaused2run]

[queerasbuck]

am watching 11.21 and wow, I wanna punch Chuck -- not even for anything particularly bad, he's just Really Annoying