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I love the idea of Soldier Boy and Malchemical being an alternate version of Dean and Castiel.

There's the given and obvious: the casting of all four characters and how the director (Eric Kripke) is making constant references back to Supernatural in The Boys. But aside from that, it would make sense. Balthazar tells Castiel that in their universe, it is the only one in which Castiel rebels for Dean, or for the sake of context and deeper meaning, love. Malchemical himself is unwilling to put himself or his image/wealth for virtually anything, and Soldier Boy, like Dean before trusting Castiel, is quick to attempt (or, in Soldier Boy's case, succeed) in killing the Cas variant for his own cause.

It's in plain sight, honestly. I know this is kind of a dead topic now, but I really like its potential. It also kind of goes to further prove how strong Castiel's love for Dean is. Don't get me wrong, the whole 'find each other in every universe' trope is sweet, but having a love that surpasses the universal constant is incredible.

Where are all the malchemical fics

#malchemical #malchemical x reader #misha collins #the boys #fanfic #x reader #i need it #intoxfet #💔

!promo

Thehehe 🤭

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

#fanfic #fanfiction #the boys #soldier boy #malchemical

✴︎˚｡⋆- Learning how to smoke with the LA Supes ! ! | [16+]

You go to LA with your dad, Soldier Boy, to see some old friends. They’re fellow supes, both of them big and definitely high from the stench of weed that lingers in the entrance of the Speedster’s modern mansion. You wonder what it’s like to do drugs: does it hurt? How long does it last? Is it fun? Well, they wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t fun. And it would be a rush to do it with some good looking faces. The thing is, your dad is an asshole about you doing drugs and hasn’t even let you get dizzy from secondhand smoke. He forgets he’s an octogenarian and you’re not a baby. Not raising you into adulthood must give him the false sense that you’re still in need of shielding from the world.

But as your only guardian wanders off to chat up some poker-playing strangers, the owner of the home hands you a joint.

“It’s not the weak shit, hon. We wouldn’t do that to our guest of honor.” He’s watching for Soldier Boy’s disappearance too. Even under all that 6”4-ness and that beard you can see the joy manifesting in the craters of his dimples.

“Oh, uh, I’ve never..I can’t do that.” You stutter awkwardly. You’d be in so much shit if you got caught going behind your father’s back like this. Worst of all, you don’t even know how to hold the damn thing! It wouldn’t be worth the embarrassment.

“Why not?” The guy you’ve dubbed Blue shirt shrugs. He’s very attractive. “We’re all friends here. We go way back.”

You laugh again, forcibly. “I want to, but I just— I don’t know how…to…?”

Both men glance at each other in shock, then back at you. They each light a joint for themselves.

“Oh sweetie…” Blue shirt sighs pitifully after a puff.

The owner of the house, Dimples, jumps in, “That’s changing today.”

In no time at all you’re in a new room, clean granite walls with gold framed posters and shiny floors housing stacks and stacks of every drug imaginable. In the center of the room is a gaudy looking round table with matching chairs, still dirty with random powdered residue and rolled up bills.

“Pick your poison sweetheart, on the house. Everything’s fresh too.”

You select the safest option. It’s the one you often see regular people smoking: a joint just like the one you were offered earlier, walking up to a stack of pre-rolled ones on the opposite side of the room. Perched on the wall above is another poster where you discover their supe names.

Mister Marathon pushes the pre rolled stuff aside and brings you back to the center of the room, pulling a chair out and forcing you onto it by the shoulders. “You better not say a goddamn thing about this. Both of you.”

You comply with zero hesitation.

With one supe crouched on each side of you, they show you how to roll a joint. What kind of paper to use, how to lay it down, rolling it (without a machine, because who actually uses that?) and sealing it tight. You follow suit, getting the hang of it quick thanks to seeing your dad do it so many times.

Marathon plucks the joint from your hand and places it in your mouth for you, letting Malchemical light it.

“Just follow us, kay?” Malchemical orders, lighting his own.

And you do.

Puff after puff it’s a mess of giggling from you and hearty laughs from them. Smoke swirls around, a visual representation of the surprising lightheartedness filling the room.

“Christ, your eyes are fucking red…” Marathon jokes, leaning in to look at you.

“Stop…” you giggle back. “He’s gonna hear us..” The room is scented with the sour funk of weed and the smoke from your mouth begins to mix with that of the men beside you.

“Hm, you’re so right.” Malchemical winks. “Glad you remembered our little secret.”

The remainder of your time is spent complaining to them about Soldier Boy. How uptight he is, how he drags you to parties just to lock you in a room while he has fun, how he’d never even let you near a guy without threatening to hurt them. You take a big drag without coughing.

“Sounds like him,” Malchemical scoffs. There’s an underlying concern about your dad. They know how powerful he is, and it’s obvious in their more uptight demeanor when handling your indulgences.

“Well, we could always help you.” Marathon chimes in. He’s already prepared to give you a second joint the moment you’re done with the first. Kindly, but with eyes expressing how risky it is even when under the influence. “Like we said: we’re all friends here.”

The lighter comes back out for your round two— it’s round three and four for them. Your head’s getting light now, your temples begin to ache, but god do you want to know what that sentence meant.

“Hm..yeah?” You laugh, grabbing your head tightly with your free hand. “Sounds nice.”

A hand places itself over yours. Mister Marathon leans in first, then Malchemical. One set of lips presses heartily against your left cheek, and the other on your right. Malchemical’s kiss travels closer to your lips and leaves a faint smell of sweet sulfur. The speedster follows suit with slightly more eagerness. Your face turns red in an instant, joint falling from your lips and onto the table. A rush of heat shoots straight into your stomach while trying to suppress a sudden bout of coughing. Both pull away and Malchemical picks up the joint and puts it aside for himself, proud of you.

“Woah there sweetheart, too much for your first time? No more of that shit for you.” Marathon says smoothly.

“We gotta get that smell off you before Soldier Boy catches us and rips our dicks off.”

“Wait- no—“ you cough. You want to stay longer, to see how far you can push it. Screw whatever Soldier Boy thinks he can decide for you. “I can decide for my self.”

Malchemical shakes his head sternly. You obviously want more to smoke, more of them, but the fear of Soldier Boy seems to trump all else.

“Don’t argue with us, neither one wants to drag your body out of this room if you pass out. And trust me, it’s happened.” Marathon polishes off the last of what he’s rolled.

“But—“

“Just gives you a reason to come back. Alone. I get fresh stock on Friday nights.” Another wink and a pat on your arm urges you out of the room.

*Note: I wanna do a longer version / pt 2 to this since this was more of a warmup after my break (I’m still kind of in a slump ngl, so I’ve been drawing more). But lmk if you’d want that ! !

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#the boys #mister marathon #mr marathon #Malchemical #misha collins #jared padalecki #Jensen Ackles #soldier boy #mr marathon x reader #mister marathon x reader #malchemical x reader #ficlet #ramblings

Dad finally watched the boys and we were talking about it, and I remembered the fucking outfit choices for malchemical and mr marathon, aka jared padalecki and misha Collins.

Cause you cant give jared padalecki a tacky ass tracksuit making him look like a shady pimp. (Also worse bc they kept his beard that did not help the look) and then have Misha Collins look like a hot guy you would find in a gay bar.

Like PLEASE its so funny. Misha and his necklaces and the shirt slightly unbuttoned, like im a lesbian and even I was like wtf omg 🤤

Also I dont think Misha Collins could play a straight man, gun against head.

#silly #the boys #malchemical #misha collins #avoiding any tag jar realated cause im scares that his fans will attack me for a fun post and act like a ran down their mailbox