Hello everyone, I’ve been writing a new fic, so I figured I would post the prologue here in case anyone who views my blog would enjoy reading it! I hope you like the prologue, I’ll include the link to the fic here! Ao3 ink: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/97482780 Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/1222916487-sins-of-the-flesh-prologue --Prologue-- John Winchester was a righteous man; he was well-known throughout his community as an excellent priest and had seen most people every Sunday throughout their entire lives. He was known to be a very loving and selfless man, though many knew that dwindled slightly after the death of his wife. This is also the time he began hunting, leaving his young sons alone for days at a time and only returning for Sunday mass; no other adult knew of his hunting. No one knew what exactly had happened to the priest’s wife, the priest did not discuss it, but everyone knew that there must have been a truly horrifying sight involved; see, John kept his eldest son, Dean, blindfolded with a black satin cloth after the death of his mother. The boy never seemed overly bothered by it, although it was a little difficult to navigate through different places and do different tasks blindly at first. Since he was four, no one within the town had seen the boy without the blindfold on, and he was always wearing clothing that covered his entire body; his father did not take his sons out very often, and thus the only time the town people ever even saw them was at church. Most of the time, if you attempted to speak to Dean, he would not speak; his younger brother, Sam, however, would constantly go on delighting rants about whatever he was currently learning in school. What the people did not know is the purpose of the blindfold; unsurprisingly, neither did Dean, but he followed his father’s orders blindly as he was raised to. His father told him to put on the blindfold, he did. His father told him to stay quiet, he did. His father told him to hold out his arms so he could inflict bruises on them whenever he was out of order… he did. He saw his father as a hero, and it seemed no matter what the ma did to him, Dean always trusted his judgement. John knew the reason for the blindfold, though, and why only his oldest son needed it; it was to keep him holy, keep his soul pure, to stop him from falling into the sinful romance and lust with a man. You see after his wife had died, a being came to him and told him that the earth was a cruel and horrid place; it told him that if he was able to keep his oldest son pure, if he was able to keep him from falling in love with a man as he was fated to, then God would use him as vivisection for all his angels see so that they may aid him with creating more righteous beings for the earth. Delighted, John had not questioned the gold-eyed being, for he believed it was an angel, and thus did everything in his power to bend the fates of his son by engraving the belief that death would feel like waking up from a nightmare, that when he passed, Dean would be used as a model for all righteous beings to come if only he could keep away from lustful desires and the sin of a male lover. John Winchester was a fool; you cannot bend the fates, cannot change the course that life has given you to follow. The man who thinks himself God will undoubtedly be struck down, for he is an impersonator attempting to steal the power of another.
I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute. Yes, I'm a genius.
Dr.Spencer Reid; Criminal Minds, season 1 episode 1 - extreme aggressor
My blog is definitely a polyam-safe place. Welcome!
can y’all just… like or reblog if y’all are polyam-safe blogs
May you burn with the monster that plagues your soul; may you lay in the ashes of your very sins and damnation. May the devil do with you as he sees fit and throw you deep into the pits of the eternal hellfire, and may you reap what you have sown.
Cole, Tacita Corvus (my book)
I have always loved stories, have always gotten a little thrill out of reading about Neverlands and far away wizarding schools, always searching for an escape. Now, I write, providing others with their own escapes. I write stories of fiendish pirates, poisoning tea with nightshade and sailing the seas to carry on a mother’s legacy. I write of plagues and pestilence, of crows invading the skies and turning them black. I write of an angel loving a human so much that they would fall from the heavens for him, just as Icarus did for the sun. Stories are meant to be shared, fantasies to get lost in... and yet, sometimes I wonder, how far into my fantasies is too far?
The fact that so many people have not been bought or brought flowers before saddens me. I had a conversation with a friend and asked if they had ever been bought flowers; despite having multiple previous partners, they said no. It wounds me to know that so many people have never been appreciated in such a way; it doesn’t take much to buy some flowers, or even just pick some from a field, and yet they had never experienced being given flowers by someone they love. Just get your friend(s) or lover(s) some flowers; doesn’t matter where they came from, doesn’t matter their gender or sexual orientation, they’re just flowers. Normalize being human and showing basic affection.
I got a new journal and decided to turn it into a prince’s journal. Whoever reads this journal next will follow the story of a prince, his lovers, and his decent into villainy and madness- all through the prince’s eyes.
BEES Thank you for your bee pun, OP, this has made my day. And remember! If the bees go, they’re taking us down with them.
Can I offer you a terrible joke in this trying time?
A playlist that, once again, doesn’t belong to me beacause I relate a little too much to Bruno.
I got a few new books to fuel my curiosity and my need for a more sophisticated vocabulary- and because I was in need of a good few stories.
Mostly 3am shitposts, my lover (coffee), random rants and my own wrtiter's tears
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