#prosey

[minyardy]

Your presence will be the sun in winter.

(archive moodboard for @prosey)

[jtownraindancer]

Meg Masters x Reader: Tattoos

*

She could have spent hours studying the slope of your shoulders, skimming the visible ridges of your spine before it disappeared into layers of cotton and fleece.

She could have spent hours charting the lines of each of your tattoos, committing each piece to memory and trying to determine their significance in pensive silence.

She could have spent hours memorizing the shape of your face, brushing her fingers over every ridge, each wrinkle, learning every pore.

She could have spent hours fiddling with your hand, surrendering to the fascination of watching muscle contract, veins shifting beneath thin skin, light reflecting off the plateaus and canyons with every flutter in your pulse.

She could have spent hours tasting your name, weighing the very sound of it on her tongue, letting it dance in the air as she rearranged the melody over and over and over again.

She could have spent hours, days, weeks, years, centuries loving you, letting your laughter wash over her and clearing away all stench and rot from Hell, your smile burning Divinity into her ashen soul, your voice a sirenous call away from damnation and all things foul.

She could have spent centuries with you, could have taken that final step over the precipice to join you, to follow you, to let you lead her to the Paradise you so often dreamed of.

But she was first and foremost loyal to her father, and everything she had learned revealed his loathing for your kind, the uncleanliness of the humane.

As tempting as you were proving to be, she knew she needed to resist, silver blade shimmering in the moonlight, your bare shoulders once more taunting her from beneath the pale sheets.

A rapid downward thrust, a swift departure.

She was long gone by the time you had awoken, her blade embedded into the vast expanse of the mattress.

She only spent a few months with you.

She would cherish those few weeks for the rest of Eternity.

*

[divinarcsa]

okay , but would it be okay if i didn’t write in prose bc i think my brain keeps saying i must write in prose but it’s definitely holding me back from getting replies out : ))))))

[afanofmanystuffs]

The Cabin Part 3

Summary:Deep in the woods, there stands a wooden cabin. There are many things this cabin is filled with, but none so precious as the moment you share with him.

A/N: This is kind of disjointed- you can probably tell where my two writing sessions stopped and ended. I’m getting back into the swing of writing (yay!), however, I don’t have as much time for it now with two fics to edit. Good news for this series, though: I only have to write one more chapter. Chapter 5 is already complete. As an aside, I’ve also cross posted this fic to AO3 if you would prefer to read it there. Warnings: non explicit smut, mentions of masochism, nudity Words: 998

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

–

Winter weather swirled around you; the wind catching snow and ice and revealing its spiral stream circling around you. Beyond the veil of frozen flakes and hail, evergreen trees, weighed down heavy with snow and ice, surrounded the clearing. Two feet of snow lay solid below you; above you, many miles up, clouds hovered thick and fuller than you could know.

Still, wind and snow swirled around you. If you closed your eyes and just listened, the steady stream would become soft noise that became whispered words; the voice of Winter herself, in all her wrath and beauty.

Shutting your eyes, you stood patiently and listened to her song; a creation meant for your ears only. Whispers, baritones and sopranos filled your mind with a sharp, smooth, gentle and crescendo-ing melody as it rose and fell; shrieking and moaning like a lover, enraged but still full of love as she reminisced on the frozen flames of past loves.

Paying no mind to the elements, you took in the elaborate and striking sound for an indeterminate amount of time. It was so freeing to lose yourself in nature like this, just simply existing within its sphere of influence. No troubles plagued your mind, no speculations or worrying infiltrated your space. You just were; another primordial force in relation to another.

Sometime – you didn’t know when; time had no meaning, or perhaps didn’t even exist here – you became aware of another sound, or possibly even sensation, for senses tended to blend, here in this ethereal place. It sounded soft; like fabric rustling against itself, or the brush of fingertips across the supple plane of a cheek.

Somewhere, something urged you to open your eyes, and when you did, the song faded back into the white noise of wind. In exchange for the auditory loss, there was a novel view; another detail in this crystalline world that threatened to become the focus of it all. A man, shrouded in a coat, stood before you, and the whirling snow seemed to clear just enough to get a glimpse of his features. In this illuminated world, slowly turning red by nature of the sun’s shining rays, something like a mirage appeared on either side of him, taking on the form and shape of wings. The outline glowed red with the light, and you realized then what the man really was, for he was not a man, but an angel.

“Love…” You tilted your head in confusion; you had not seen the angel’s lips move, and it had been too clear for the wind. Again, the word came, infused with warm tones that were something you did not recognize, even though there was a maddening familiarity there that you could not place. It was as if you had heard it a thousand times before, and felt it a million times before that. It echoed around when it was called again, somehow making the world sway and blur, even though the snow still blew cold with the wind, the angel illuminated by the setting sun, moving closer with slow but sure steps.

The previous calm now broken, confusion and slight panic set in as you sensed that this was not the way it was supposed to go- the angel, you were supposed to greet the angel, the way you had done before- had you? Had you done it-

You awoke with a gasp, eyes flying open to see the amused face of Castiel a few inches above your face, which caused you to start backwards out of surprise, crashing into the headboard with a dull thump. Wincing in pain, you took a deep breath, bringing a hand up to rub your sore head. His expression now concerned at this sudden chain of events, Cas backed up, coming to sit beside you and slowly brought a hand to your head, sending healing Grace through the freshly bruised flesh.

“My apologies, love. I only sought to wake you.” Your emotions still not settled, you reviewed the situation and found yourself unable to contain a wave of giggles that soon became full blown laughter. Sitting up abruptly and tossing yourself at Castiel’s confused and concerned frame, you laughed into his chest, close to tears.

“…Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked once you had calmed down to the occasional chortle.

“Sorry, Cas… I was dreaming about how we first met. Remember? You woke me just before the sun flashed green… I woke so panicked for some reason, and then….” You giggled some more, pulling back to plant a chaste kiss on his lips quickly. “And then you scared me like that… I suppose it wasn’t really funny, I was just unsettled.”

A mischievous smile slowly spread on his face as he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing, reminding you of a bird. What didn’t remind you of a bird was how he pounced on you, tickling you until you were screaming in laughter, paying enough attention to the erogenous zones on your belly and navel and making it tingle with his Grace so much that you laughed until you were cramping. Seeking revenge, you fought back until you could shift enough to be able to kiss him with enthusiasm. Your tickle fight then became decidedly more passionate in nature; giggles becoming moans and laughter becoming exclamations of pleasure.

He was rough in the best way with first his fingers, then mouth, and cock; giving pleasure through pain in the way that blazed trails through your body; making you come over and over again until your vision was blurred and you were both exhausted in the way that only the other could accomplish. Satiated and happy, you cuddled into each others warmth as snow started to fall outside. The sight through the window made you smile- it was the first snow of the season. Snow would forever remind you of Castiel, and the green flash that marked your meeting on that fateful, snowy day.

–

Please let me know if you’d like to removed or added to any of my tag lists! Please note that if you are on unsolicited tags that you may be removed without notice.

The Cabin tags:

@kdfrqqg

Official tags:

@scarletluvscas @tornadoecat @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @greenappleeyes @wheresthekillswitch @goldenangelbloodcastiel @sparklingcas @peculiarlyrene @webcricket @kristendansmith

Unsolicited tags:  

@lucifer-in-leather  @archangel-with-a-shotgun @bkwrm523 @kittenofdoomage @pinknerdpanda @splendidcas @willowing-love @castiel-knight-of-hell @luciferismyhomeboy @mysteriouslyme81 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charlie-bradcherry @just-a-touch-of-crowley @mrswhozeewhatsis @lipstickandwhiskey @thegreatficmaster @impala-dreamer @vintagevalentinexx @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @winchestersnco @rowdyhooliganism @purgatoan @roxy-davenport @ilostmyshoe-79 @castiellover @gneisscastiel @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Personal tags:

@mate-im-captain-jack-sparrow @ferid-trash-bathory @devilscharismatic @unlock-the-soul @silvie111

[jtownraindancer]

~☆~

I am a god of my own creation.

I have crafted entire universes.

I have shaped entire galaxies.

I have molded entire star systems.

I have carved entire planets.

I have painted the skies.

I have breathed the winds.

I have shaped each cloud.

I have chosen which stars will shine.

I have woven the grasslands.

I have shaped patterns in the sands.

I have crumbled and discarded the boulders.

I have scraped out each barren basin.

I have sparked the first flames.

I have razed entire continents with ash.

I have tempered fury to rocky plateaus.

I have forged land from the remnants of fiery blasts.

I have breathed life into empty vessels.

I have built societies with a thought.

I have birthed entire civilizations.

I have become their boogeyman.

I am God of my own creation.

I have inspired terror.

I have inspired curiosity.

I have inspired defiance.

I have inspired respect.

I have birthed perfect heroes.

I have mourned imperfect martyrs.

I have praised myself on my chosen few.

I have blamed myself for their flaws.

I have cast souls into peril.

I have raised souls from despair.

I have littered their paths with monsters.

I have embellished their paths with hope.

I have reared the most fearsome of dragons.

I have created the foulest of demons.

I have summoned the darkest spell casters.

I have composed the melodies of sirens.

I am God of my own creation.

I buckle the earth at my own whim.

I raise the waters at my own discretion.

I burn the forests for my own amusement.

I cast the winds in disarray to see what patterns they create.

I water their fields with the blood of War.

I plague their histories with terrors of Pestilence.

I taunt their farmers with the wrath of Famine.

I curse them with the grimness of Death.

I have shaped entire realities with the steady stroke of my pen.

I have composed entire scenes with a few scattered syllables.

I have crafted entire journeys with a few choice words.

I have created entire lives by the mere mention of a name.

I have remodeled entire destinies.

I have reshaped countless legends.

I have rebuilt entire dynasties.

I have rewritten the entire lore.

I shelter them from chaos.

I raise them from obscurity.

I praise their every triumph.

I watch them fade into history.

I am a god of my own creation.

Entire worlds bear my name.

Entire star systems fear me.

Entire galaxies tremble at my command.

Entire universes collapse with my whisper.

I am a god of my own design.

~☆~

[jtownraindancer]

Jo Harvelle x Reader: Led Zeppelin

*

While the Roadhouse served primarily as a Hunters' bar, you had come to claim it as your personal pedantic paradise.

First appearances hinted at animosity, a behemoth towering over you. When you first entered the dark room, taking in maple columns and recently refinished flooring, you found yourself more at ease, and soon enough your initial visit was ending with a familial warmth you had not anticipated, a standing offer to swing by anytime.

You had presumed the offer to be a mere offer of hospitality, the casual invitation of a retailer to their consumer. During your second visit, however, the lithe blonde whose name you had already forgotten had guided you to a private table, the tall supports on either side of the booth allowing you your necessary quiet, with just enough murmuring of other patrons to keep firmly rooted in the present.

With another successful night of studying in, you secretly vowed to visit as often as possible, your tired yet contented gaze following the retreating figure of the establishment's young owner.

Each visit after found the two of you growing more acquainted, and on those rare days when you were the only other person in the bar, she would join you, spending hours discussing the paranormal, teaching you about creatures and beings far beyond basic human understanding, sharing stories of her heroic father.

She grew to know you as well, taking an interest in your books, learning your class schedule and your favourite drinks. Sometimes, you would come in to find food waiting for you, the steam off of freshly prepared pretzels a welcome sight after trudging through autumnal sludge and showers.

Your grades had improved dramatically since your study sessions had commenced, the simple serenity of the dark oak countertops and the velveteen greens of the billiards tables wrapping their secure familiarity around you. There were rarely disruptions here, many of the Hunters passing through keeping their business quiet, sharing hushed stories and lore over tawny bottles and liquid gold.

For the first time in some time, the bar was empty, save for you and Jo. It seemed that the approach of Samhain often brought with it more supernatural activity, demons and ghosts doing their damnedest to breach the void and wreak havoc among the living.

The Hunters you had grown most familiar with-The Winchesters, Ms. Bradbury, Mr. Singer, Mr. Ross and his partner Mr. Lassiter, even Jo's own mother- had become more like friends in recent months, and it was slightly disconcerting that you may miss them before you went home for Fall Break.

Your hostess had any sense of discontent dispersing soon enough, humming along to Led Zeppelin as she worked on inventory, the familiar rhythm of classic rock and tinkling glass and sharpening blades a persistent beat to which you could study.

Jo's voice sometimes still carved its way past your concentration, the vaguely discordant refrains evoking a small grin as you once more turned to watch her work, enraptured by modest revolutions and the slight swaying as she simply continued to be.

You were lost in the whimsy of it all- the halo cast over her shoulders from the led strip behind the bar, the tug on her white t-shirt as her arms moved from one task to the next, the lingering scent of your beer cheese and soda.

The moment was so surreal, so pure and innocuously humane.

The Roadhouse had become your paradise, providing you the extraordinary glimpse into what Heaven must surely be.

*

[jtownraindancer]

Crowley x Reader: R.I.P.

*

The world had changed, though much remained the same.

Majestic cathedrals that had once towered above all other structures were now overwhelmed by high-rises and modern artwork, though their mighty foundations had yet to crumble, magnificent columns and lead glass and iron chains still holding strong throughout the ages.

Colossal castles that had once served as impervious fortresses had fallen to corrosion, behemoths hinting at celestial ordainment succumbing to the unstoppable conquests of time, though some fragments remained, symbols of past tribulation, of the bloody journeys undertaken to secure perceived autonomy.

Roman roads and ancient arches and devious dwellers still dotted the landscape, some scarcely more than phantasmic remnants of a far more glorious age.

Most unchanging, though never truly the same, were the waterways, carrying filth and forgotten trinkets to the sea, artefacts that would one day be studied by more superior races.

It was near one such waterway that he finally found you, forlorn features focused on the Medway, your back turned against the corpse of the stronghold, eyes drawn to corroded debris scattered among the shallow waters.

He approached you quietly, silently studying the slope of your shoulders, noting the changes made to your hair and choices in attire. It was with bitter resentment that he accepted yet more changes made in the past few years, yet more factors he had no say in suggesting they be altered once more.

It seemed despite your differences, despite his departure, despite damning the Devil and dooming his dominion, you still possessed the ability to sense his presence, disheartened gaze brightening significantly as you turned from the object of your consternation, very aura lightened by his arrival.

He was helpless in the face of your affection, drowning in the kindness behind your smile and the soft embrace you offered.

A rarity, in his line of work, finding someone so unruffled by knowledge of his identity, fully tranquil with his companionship.

You trusted him wholeheartedly, a humbling token of your regard that oft left him wondering if he truly deserved your confidence.

Though it had been nearing the second year since your last conversation, you exhibited no shyness, old patterns and routine playing out in a familiar dance that immediately soothed him.

There was a heaviness to your heart however, a flutter of pain to your eyes that summoned his curiosity.

He confided in you, seeking any advice you may have to offer for his conflicting interests, offering his support in your pursuit of your dreams.

At long last, when the conversation had cycled through, he pressed for information about those others you so passionately cared for- family and friends and, tragically, a former lover?

You spoke with sharpness, the caustic coating to your tone reflecting in your features. The fool- for could they be anything else?- had caused you harm, seeking unions outside the oaths you had pledged to one another.

He pondered briefly on the torments he could provide them on your behalf, cruel fantasies cut short as your intonations darkened with each passing syllable.

Your wrath took him by surprise, your vengeance already affecting the traitor's career.

Such simple misdirects had forced their entire lifestyle into mere shambles of former security.

The most frightening part of your revelation was revealed with the carefree dismissal of your own callousness, a bark of laughter carrying on the easterly wind.

"Hey man, R.I.P." You paused, expression darkening and words lowering to a rumble reflecting your remaining rage. "They should have known better than to fuck with me."

An uncomfortable wariness was soon breeding distrust in his conscious. For if you could rip asunder all certainties from one person's life, the life of someone you had once vowed to cherish until your dying breath, what damage would you wreak upon those without such protections?

Many things remained the same, but it was with a begrudging acceptance that Crowley acknowledged that even the most steady and stringent of consistencies will often change too.

For now however, he vowed to savour whatever tenderness still remained within your possession.

*

[jtownraindancer]

Anna Milton x Reader: Halo

*

The first flickering flash of sunlight crept past sheer curtains, languidly slipping across plush carpeting, trailing softly over exposed toes and the rumpled muss of blankets.

You had been awake for some time now, soothed by the soft expression caressing your angel's lips. lost as she was in her dreams.

A rarity, you knew, a nostalgic remnant of her time masquerading as mortal.

She was entirely at ease at this moment, the flutter of eyelids hinting at dreams you may never be privy to, memories she would most likely never share.

You found yourself unbothered, instead discovering a soft well of humility trickling from your core, drawn by the faith she had placed in you; you were overwhelmed with a fondness for the warrior that was soothed enough by your mere presence to truly lower her defences.

Her hair had twisted itself into a tangled corona atop the white satin pillows, triggering the strong urge to trace your finger through the fiery tresses, though firm resolution held you steady.

You dared not risk disturbing her, fearful that this delicate moment of fragility may be the last you would witness before she resumed her crusade, before your Fallen Angel once more shrouded herself in righteousness.

You had full confidence in her abilities, had fallen irrevocably for her passion, her determination, her loyalty to Humankind. You sometimes wondered if mutual intrigue had fueled your first rendezvous, you desperate to quench your thirst for knowledge on the Host, and if she, perhaps, through you, could hold fast to fading memories of a false existence, if she could refuel her adoration for all things humane.

The steady ascension of Sol softly tugged her from slumber, unfocused eyes studying their surroundings before settling on reading your own, brightening significantly at your presence. You whispered an endearment, a light tease, cherishing the faux irritation she offered as she sat upright, sunlight framing buttermilk shoulders in perfect silhouette, sunbeams igniting a titian halo atop the head of your empyrean paramour.

*