Suikerism
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Summary
So, the first thing that happens is Castiel comes back.
~~~
"Right," Dean says eventually, gruffly. He looks down at his shoes. "I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life, man. It's—you know, yours. Do your thing, love who you love, whatever. I can't really stop you from loving me, if that's what you've decided to do, but I don't—I can't—"
"I know," Castiel murmurs, still just smiling a little, not looking heartbroken at all. "Don't worry about it, Dean, that's all I ask."
"So we're—" Dean risks a glance up, swallowing thickly. "We're good?"
Castiel hums. "We're good."
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Bookmarked by Suikerism
23 Mar 2026
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Bookmarked by Suikerism
04 Mar 2026
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Summary
Fuck.
Jon's been saying that in his head for the last hour. Might've muttered it once or twice under his breath, too, though it's hard to tell since the inside of his skull feels like a yard of wet wool (heavy, tangled, and about as useful as tits on a breastplate).
Don't ask him how he got here. Don't ask if he's lost his wits.
He has. Must've.
Any man who stands in a smoke-stinking hut north of the Wall, arguing with his own shadow about asking another man for a favor like this, has already ridden past mad. The rest is just details.
Jon has a favor to ask. It's nothing. For Tormund. The problem is that Jon's not entirely sure it is nothing for Jon.
Bookmarked by Suikerism
21 Feb 2026
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She falls asleep on him, nose twitching as she snores, clutching his tail to her chest like he’s the small, fuzzy, huggable thing. He doesn’t dare put his arm around her. He’s not dense— he knows what this would be if this were anyone else, if this were a cute girl he’d picked up at a bar that he’d wined and dined and cuddled with all night on the couch. He’d wake her with a kiss and see where things take them, if this were some girl.
But it’s Judy, and Nick’s just happy she’s here, so he doesn’t wake her at all.
(Nick thinks he's writing down observations about the most interesting mammal in his life. What he's really doing is falling head over tail in love.
And he's going to be annoying about it, because he's a bastard.)
Bookmarked by Suikerism
04 Jan 2026
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Monoco’s station was just as it had always been, Gommage or no. The painted curves of it flowed and trailed, one long brush stroke after another. The snow stayed, and so did the grandis, the gentle petals of iron, the curve of playful trains.
Only Monoco had left. Only they had changed. And then they’d returned, and for what? To scavenge the chroma of corpses long gone to rest? To scrape the paint from a hundred abandoned creations?
Verso was tired.
“Yes,” he said, “I could have saved him.”
Or: Maelle brings Gustave back, and accidentally ties his soul to Verso. This changes things.
Series
- Part 8 of author's favorites
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Bookmarked by Suikerism
29 Dec 2025