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#my favorite demon.. the sulfur <3
cloudsrust · 8 months
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Tfw you have to crawl out of artblock and fatigue because your new fave doesn't have enough content (I have to feed the fixation on my own.)
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Crowley X Male Reader ~pt2
Because I had to write part two to this budding relationship. Look for pt one on my account. It’s not far.
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| 1 | two | 3 | 4 | 5 |
I heard the loud noxious music before I entered the vehicle. The windows were down so I could only assume it was to air out the sulfuric smell crowley gave off. He was sitting in the backseat with his arms crossed as he tried to yell over the music.
I allowed myself a smile knowing they couldn't see me yet as I still flew over the car. I pulled my wings in and fell to the road and landed into the back seat beside the grumpy demon. The radio began to blitz between static and incomprehensible rock.
Dean grumbled over the static as he began to twist and turn the knobs on the radio. "Oh come on man! That was Zeppelin!" He said in aggravation.
My lips quirked at the corner into a small grin. They didn't use to do that. Through spending more and more time with the Winchesters I had more chances to see life and experience it outside the battlefield. In a way becoming more human.
My life had always been one war after another. There were not times for laughter or joy. Only fear as it clouded my nose and I prayed for the soldier beside me to survive this hell. There was that one Christmas when we crossed our trenches and dance and sung and drank until we would wake up the next morning and kill the same men.
"Seriously M/N, even Cas doesn't fuck with the radio!" Dean continued to grumble, finishing off with a glare through the assistance of the backup mirror. "Fix it!"
I nod and twist my frequency to stop fritzing the radio. Instead of zepplin playing there is Frank Sinatras voice as he begins to sing the opening stanza to Come fly with me.
"Frank Sinatra?" Sam asks in confusion.
"I heard this song when it first aired in 1958, during the Vietnam war. After the war I had to meet him, and did." I paused, "he died while I was off fighting in Kosovo Conflict." I admit sadly.
"How could you have heard this if you were in Vietnam?" Dean asked in confusion. "I mean I get you had radios but wouldn't that have been too far?"
"I would play with the frequencies, bounce signals. Everyday I saw my soldiers say 'we are in hell'. So I gave them radio. I amplified signals from home so they could listen to music, all along the watchtower was a favorite, it ain't me by CCR, we gotta get outta this place by the animals. It was all I could do to help." I lean back into the backseat and smile to myself. "I even think one of them caught on. He would follow me around asking me questions." My lips thin into a tight line. "I was sad to see that one go." I said creating a somber mood as come fly with me began to sizzle in the background.
I turned to the side to see Crowley when he bumped his leg into mine. "So frank Sinatra?"
I nod and began to talk with Crowley. Not noticing of how the once staticky version of come fly with me became clearer again and went on to play strangers in the night. Sam and Dean share a uncomfortable look as they both look at the back mirror to see Crowley and Mars having a pleasant conversation. The Angel has a small smile when Crowley speaks.
Dean coughs into his hand while turning down the music. "Not that I don't like this blast from the past, but driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean says loudly gaining the angels attention.
Sam slaps his brothers arm. "Dude! You can't just say that to an Angel."
"Why not! My car!" Dean protests. "Besides he has wings, he doesn't need car rides to get places so he doesn't have jurisdiction on the music." Dean argues.
The brothers begin to bicker more and it brings a fond smile to my face. Crowley taps my leg and I turn to him again. "What would you say we just go to the destination and let these two chuckleheads chit chat?"
"Are you offering me a ride?" I tease lightly. As soon as it leaves my mouth I blink in confusion. Where did that come from? Maybe the Winchesters have made me more human than I thought.
"If that's what your asking, tall, dark, and scary." Crowley offers and puts his hand on my shoulder. Soon we're standing outside a park. Crowley takes a seat and I choose to sit beside him.
I let myself relax and lean against the bench's arm rest. "So what is the monster this time?"
"A nest of vampires, they've been draining men. Most of them last seen coming out of a gay bar." Crowley says bluntly.
"I forget how much our world changes." I shake my head, "how many would you say occupy this nest?"
"10 or 12."
I think it over before standing. "Then let's go."
"Go? Go where?" Crowley asks in confusion as he stands as well.
"Deal with the nest? I can handle most if not all. I need someone to guard the exits." I respond bluntly I close my eyes and focus, finding the nest easily. "It's not far. It's the old roller skating rink."
Time skip ~~~
I walk into the building with Crowley, he chooses to stand by the door as I walk further toward the rink. I whistle and it echoes; slowly people began to creep out of dark corners. The lights begin flickering and music plays through the over head. Puttin on the ritz began to play and I couldn't stop from tapping my foot.
"Who are you?! Why are you here?" One of them asks.
I stop tapping my foot and turn to the vampire. "I'm here to— dispose of you." I tilt my head. "I have nothing against your kind but I really must kill you. I'd rather be the one doing it than the hunters that accompanied me here. I hope you understand." I say before lunging and pushing him to the ground as his head is ripped from his body. His nest mates begin to hiss as their fangs drop and they lunge for me. I dance between the bodies sometimes dismembering them as I go.
A brave vampire wraps it's hands around my throat and growls threateningly as spittle flies onto my face. I raise my eyebrow and break it's arms before crushing its head under my boot.
The vampires begin to back away from me in fear and realization they cannot win.
"Running is futile, Take your death standing and fighting." I demand in anger. "I've led soldiers with more bravery then you lot." I swing my arm and my wings follow as they decapitate three vampires at a time. The blood outlines them enough to become visible. There are five more alive and I make quick work of four. The last one kneels before me in a pitiful state. It's right arm severely broken as it begs for mercy. I put my boot on the coven leaders broken shoulder and grip his head tightly, snapping his neck while simultaneously ripping it from his body.
I throw the head behind me and flick my wing and the blood flies off leaving my wings untainted and invisible again. Crowley claps his hands in appreciation. The music dies down and I hear banging before Sam and Dean burst into the entrance.
"Hello boys, you just missed a most delightful performance. Nearly brought me to tears." Crowley says sarcastically.
Sam and Dean examine the state of the room and Sam is disgusted by the amount of mutilated corpses while Dean is morbidly interested in how I managed spill so much blood. I ignore them in favor of cleaning my hands with my ever present handkerchief.
"Clean up on aisle— everywhere." Dean jokes and pats my shoulder. "Nice job."
"Dean, he is literally the god of war." Sam says pinching the bridge of his nose while avoiding looking at the bodies.
I snap my fingers and the bodies and blood clean themselves, "better?"
"Much." Sam says making dean snort.
I roll my head and stretch my hands above me. My wings flex as well and stretch out. "That was an okay fight, ghouls put up more effort." I complain.
"I'm sure you'll find a fitting fight soon enough." Crowley said soothingly.
His tone made my ears buzz and I smiled back at him. "I hope."
Crowley then left for demon business and I wished him luck.
Time skip ~~~
The brothers had continued to search for the horsemen rings; regardless if I did not agree with locking my brother back in the cage.
War, of course, bowed in my presence. The brothers asked if I was his boss as the god of war and I lifted my lip in a snarl. "He is a cockroach, starting feeble conflicts that lead to all out war. As a god of war I do not start wars, I fight in them. In a way he thinks he is serving me but his interferences have always angered me. I would be glad to be rid of him."
Famine did cause trouble among the brothers, leading Sam to nearly relapse on his demonic diet. It was amusing to see Castiel gorge himself on White Castle burgers. But I did not appreciate famine forcing him to eat raw meat like a dog. And for that I was the one to kill famine.
Pestilence made me angry. Of all my brother's creations among the demons. The horseman pestilence was the most obnoxious. There is already enough sickness in the world. Castiel killed him at the last moment. I would've ended it but I was off with Gabriel while we watched from afar.
Death, I had no qualms with. I much appreciate him and his reapers. When Dean and Crowley located him in Chicago I flew in with excitement. With a flutter I was standing in the Chicago Pizza shop while Dean was sitting in front of death.
Dean turned over his shoulder, "M/N."
"Death." I said with soft familiarity. "It's been long, old friend." I smiled before walking closer.
"M/N, what're you doing here?" Dean asked in confusion because he hadn't seen me since I killed famine.
"Winchester, you're dismissed." I asked politely.
"No, not until we get his ring!" He demanded in aggravation. Nearly leaving his seat with his shout.
"Winchester, stand outside with Crowley before I drag you out." I demanded without raising my voice.
Deans throat bobbed as he was reminded I was not to be taken lightly. He left silently aside from slamming the door harshly like a petulant child.
I released a breath as I tried to calm myself before taking deans abandoned seat. "I have told them I do not like this plan." I leaned my elbow against the table. "I will deal with my brothers when the time presents itself. But the winchesters are impatient, they want him caged yesterday."
"They are mortal, (male nickname, preferably embarrassing in context)" Death said smiling.
I looked away to hide my embarrassment. "That's not the point." I shook my head before becoming serious again. "Are you happy to be back? My brothers haven't chained you or anything?"
"No chains, I'm free to do as I wish. And I wish to enjoy the fast food of this time. Have you had the deep dish pizza?"
I smiled seeing death speak with excitement about the food he'd like to eat. Those who do not know my friend would not assume he's excited. But as we have been friends since my creation, even I could see how he smiled and would speak with enthusiasm.
"It's all molecules to us."
"Lies." Death said in jest before some cheese cake appeared before me. "Very same from Venice."
"You spoil me." I said smiling and eagerly dug into the slice. While most angels would only taste molecules. After years of passing for human during wars, I could pick out flavors and tastes while ignoring its components. "I almost forgot what cheesecake tasted like." I ate another bite before speaking again. "Did the owners change the recipe?" The soldier I mentioned earlier, the one who had me figured out. His children and descendants are the owners of this restaurant in Venice. Of course when the boy figured me out he would ask questions, most I answered. He saw my displeasure at eating rations so he would eat with me so as to conceal my lack of appetite. One day he made me a cheesecake. While I couldn't taste the flavors then, I have always appreciated it. The recipe was passed down and his family started a restaurant.
"No, regretfully the owners passed and left the restaurant to their children. Only one of them has real talent for food."
I hummed. "That is regretful. I'll have to visit the family at some time to pay my respects."
"You could always visit him." Death said raising his finger off his cane as he motioned up.
I scoffed before leaning back against the chair. "Jupiter would be angry if I were to visit home. I haven't been to heaven since the Vikings migrated. Most of the angels have forgotten me or deny my existence. I may be an archangel but heaven is no longer home." I dropped my head to my chest to hide my sullen expression. I missed the garden, the gates, the warm gooey feeling of the sun. I miss the angels, the cherubs I would take care of. It was by chance I came into contact with Castiel.
"But have you not visited at least once in the last millennium? Not even the gates at least?" Death asked in worry.
"No, not once. I've been busy with wars and conflicts. I fought for the Roman's all those years ago but I am still leashed by that—" I bit down my anger with a contemptuous sigh. "My mark has not changed from the day I received it." I said the word received with as much sarcasm as my monotone voice could manage.
Leaning back in a more controlled voice I continued. "Heaven has been peaceful for so long that while I feel nostalgic for its warmth, I have not tempted fate. Infighting only began after my brothers were freed. I have Castiel giving me updates whenever possible. If the fighting becomes more aggravated then I will take action regardless of him." I said reluctantly.
I looked at the clock and realized we had been talking for so long that my whole cake was barely crumbs and the pizza was much the same state. I turned to the window and was unsurprised to see Dean pacing outside while looking at the sky every couple seconds. Crowley noticed my stare and with a smile he twinkled his fingers in a wave that made me feel—something.
Death mumbled something into his napkin and I was too distracted to catch most of it but what I did made my grace burn in embarrassment.
Death chuckled before leaning over the table to present the silver ring with swirling white stone at its center. It was not my first time seeing his ring but I was surprised that he would present it to me.
"Understand, that while I could give the Winchester some horrible impossible task to earn this, I give it to you in hopes you do not have to use it. I know how you miss your younger brother, and I wish you the best in controlling him and keeping him out of his cage. Until next time my friend." Death finished his last sentence by standing and placing his hat back on his head and vanishing.
I smiled sadly at the open air he had just occupied. "Goodbye friend."
I stood from the table and left the pizza parlor at a leisurely pace. When I opened the door the first thing the oldest Winchester did was pounce on me for answers.
"So did you get it, did you get the ring? Is he on our side? How do we lock up your brother?" Dean fired off in rapid succession.
The last question made me clench the ring tighter in my first and even Crowley winced. I stared down Dean and spoke in a even tone. "Death is on no one's side, he is an entity older than time. He does not take sides."
"But you two are all buddy buddy?" Dean said bluntly.
"I am an archangel and god of war, death is not new to me. I have known him since my creation. We are not buddy buddy." I answered spitefully.
"But what about your brother, you got the ring that means we lock him up now, right?" Dean asked oblivious to my growing anger. I had kept my temper as we collected the rings but it has been building since the first time the Winchesters suggested it.
"Squirrel, you may want to step off it." Crowley said informatively. But it was already too late as my anger had loosened my lips.
"You sound no better than Michael," I spat hatefully. "No wonder you'd be his vessel." I grit my teeth as I tried to control my temper and refrain from killing my father's favorite toy. I held the ring in front of Deans fearful eyes before bringing it to my chest where I felt it brush my necklace before joining it beside my dog tags and godly weapon. "No matter if you beg or plead, you will not have this ring so long as you continue to speak ill. You may kill me or die trying and you would still not pry it from my neck." I threatened harshly as I towered over him making him shrink into himself. "Sam is as much your younger brother as Lucifer is mine. I do Not comment on his binges in the past or his blood purity. So do not spite my brother as if you know him." I spoke venomously before leaving in a riled flap of my wings. I left with such force that the Winchester was knocked over and scrapped his hands on the concrete sidewalk.
I flew circles around the state as I watched for monsters, swooping down and swiftly ending each one I came in contact with. There was no hesitation and no seconds wasted on banter or baiting. Soon I had cleared the whole state of every monster aside from the rare few species I let live. Beneficial species mostly.
Still the anger inside me continued to grow and I took off to the nearest battlefield. The nearest being across the world in a conflict I didn't care to acknowledge before I wiped out the opposing side with my godly weapon. Some bodies made out with whole corpses while others were butchered beyond recognition. My once clean attire and skin were stained with various bloods of monsters before being bathed in the blood of those dead on the battlefield. The viscous liquids dripped off me in fat splatters on the ground. The scent of ozone and iron was overpowering any other smell, I couldn't even taste the cheesecake through it all.
I threw my head back before screaming in anger, anger at the gods, at my father, at my brothers, at humans, at fate, destiny and everything between it. I never hated the sun til that second. Wishing it would explode and end it all. Grace exploded out of me in time with my anger, burning the corpses and scorching the ground black. My wings stretched like they were trying to rip themselves from my body and leave me flightless.
I sank to my knees in exhaustion, my wings, now sore, wrapped tightly around my frame as if they could shield me from my anger, my hate, my sadness.
God created us first, like some science experiment or lab rat. We are flawed to a fault. Archangels being the first off the shelf, we are emotional to a point of destruction. We feel so much stronger then our lesser angels. We feel pain and sadness like a disease. Our anger could level continents without control. Our love is near obsessive. We feel so much stronger and have so little understanding of our own emotions that it cripples us. Michael being father’s pet, Lucifer becomes the betrayer. Gabriel left because he was so saddened by their fighting he couldn’t cope. Raphael feeling so neglected compared to Michael that he took over heaven and the angels to garner favor with father.
In a way I am better than my brothers. While I have always felt just as deeply, my duties and my control keep me from acting on those emotions. I was the perfect doll, as much as I may feel I did not outwardly show it like my brothers. I have the perfect military temperament, as I’ve been told by many throughout my time in war. But this was the straw to break the camels back as they say.
I don’t know how long I sat there as the ground began to radiate with my grace. Providing a beacon for any nearby Angel to find me.
“Big brother?” A soft timid voice asked from afar. I raised my eyes to see my brother, Gabriel. He was shifting from foot to foot as his wings moved erratically behind him.
I smiled reassuringly before trying to stand, I stumbled slightly before trying again. When I was standing straighter I opened my wings from my body so he could come closer.
He sped toward me with a smile and trapped me in a hug. I smiled softly into his hair. My love of my brother is what causes me pain but I would not stop loving them regardless. I rested my head on his while we hugged.
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krovscastlerpg · 1 year
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Richard "Raven" Astor | Slave | 116 | Werewolf (Alpha) | Versatile
“My dear beloved friends. Here I stand upon your graves. I still wear the rings, the bond we all shared. Under the bright moon, in my sweetest dreams, we can all meet again.”
Richard Raven Astor was born to a wealthy family in London in 1925. Astors were one of the richest family during that time and they were often feared as the blood of lycanthropy ran on their veins. Their family was one of the most powerful packs in the city and they used their status to accumulate wealth. Although the English councilman held the most power, their family had their share of control over the city.
Everyone in the family celebrated the birth of an alpha as it was a source of pride. As the only alpha among his brothers, he was entitled to inherit the family pack as its leader. He was given various privileges and experienced a lavish life as an heir to an empire. This often stirred some jealousy from his brothers, but he had proven to have more power over them.
When he turned eighteen, he received a golden ring with the family sigil, along with the other rings that all previous alphas had owned. His father would give him his, when the time would come. For the way he was treated, the alpha grew up to be prideful and spoiled. One night while he was out and drank on a random pub, a group of men cornered him. With a silver bullet, they shot him down and left him bleed to death. In a dark alley, the foolish alpha howled but his body too weak to call his pack.
Unknowingly, the same men attacked his family and shot every last one of them, killing the entire Astors in one night. A bloody massacre plotted by the councilmen themselves. On the brink of his death, he felt a dark force suck him in. A cloud of sulfur surrounded him taking away his last breath. He thought it was a peaceful death but it was not.
In December 2022, Raven woke up in a hospital in Manhattan. The nurses rushed to his side to check on him, and his doctor followed. The place looked too bright and people spoke differently. He looked down on himself and saw that his favorite trousers and suits were gone. Instead, he was wearing a ripped, hard cloth and a black short-sleeved shirt. He was dressed like a peasant. The last thing he remembered was that he died, but now everyone was talking to him in English with a thick accent and words he couldn’t understand. Amidst the chaos, he found a letter on his pocket from a man with L.D. initials. He thanked him for the chance to live on the mortal realm using his body. After a long time, he was now ready to depart and move to the next realm. As he read the rest of the letter, he had learned that the man was named Leviticus Devon. A demon who possessed him on the time of his death. On his desire to walk the mortal realm, he took over his dying body. Thanks to his immortality, his wounds healed and he lived. He had also learned from the letter that half his wealth was spent on various properties, and the rest was tripled in value. The world may know him as “Leviticus” now, but he still preferred being called by his name “Raven.” But for his own protection, he didn’t say anything to correct people who had recognized him.
He spent months in hiding, trying to grasp the new era he was in. But with his demonic powers now gone, the same men who killed his family finally found where he lived. A hard knock on his head made him unconscious, and they dragged the alpha in the middle of the night. A collar was wrapped around his neck and he was thrown down in Undercroft. The next time he woke up, he was on a cold floor, held as a slave in Krovs castle.
Positive Traits: Loyal, Protective, Brave, Firm, Charming
Negative Traits: Impatient, Prideful, Untrusting, Critical, Dishonest
3 turn-ons: Rough Sex, Domination, Body worship
3 turn-offs: Scat, Blood, Death
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purest-vanilla · 1 year
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I posted 868 times in 2022
That's 868 more posts than 2021!
131 posts created (15%)
737 posts reblogged (85%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@songofvictory
@cat-fait
@dailywiz
@pablostrans
I tagged 696 of my posts in 2022
Only 20% of my posts had no tags
#abra-cookie-cadabra! - reblog - 41 posts
#dailywiz - 36 posts
#the musings of the almighty wizard cookie! - 25 posts
#cookie run - 24 posts
#magic is an art form - 24 posts
#friend! friend! - 23 posts
#abra cookie cadabra! reblog - 21 posts
#ready to be amazed? - others art - 16 posts
#crk - 12 posts
#ready to be amazed? - other's art - 11 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#anyways jkajfksdjfkajf;aksdjfakljekwljr;dsjfaiojrkelwrjfojakj;eklrjkekw;jqrk;ldjfiaosjdflk;ajelkrjew;lqrjlk;ewjralkdsjflksadjfkljf;klsaf/pos
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
dark cacao kingdom incorrect quotes bc i’m bored
Dark Choco: Lol. Heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you’ll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this. Dark Cacao: What did you do Dark Choco? Dark Choco: a Mistake.
Affogato: Don’t worry, I have a permit. Caramel Arrow: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.
Caramel Arrow: You made enough pasta that you could take it to lunch tomorrow. Put it in a container. Crunchy Chip: Shovel the pasta into your face. Do it. Put it in your face. The future is meaningless but the pasta is now.
Affogato: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone. Caramel Arrow: And I need you to be less vague and weird.
Dark Choco: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism. Dark Cacao: And you came to me?
Caramel Arrow: What’s your favorite color? Affogato: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature. Caramel Arrow: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP? Affogato: My favorite color is pink.
Dark Choco: Hey Dark Cacao, can I get some icecream? Dark Cacao: Only a spoonful! Dark Choco: *Proceeds to pull out a comically large spoon.*
Caramel Arrow: I hate Affogato. Crunchy Chip: "Hate' is a strong word. Caramel Arrow: I have strong opinions.
Crunchy Chip: Why do I always try to tell people we're cool? We are so very uncool.
Caramel Arrow: When surrendering, Dark Choco is to hand the sword over HILT first.
Caramel Arrow: Editor's note: What the fuck?
Caramel Arrow: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Crunchy Chip: Maybe a bit tipsy? Affogato: Drunk. Dark Cacao: Wasted. Dark Choco: Dead.
Crunchy Chip: Affogato is not a morning person. Or a night person. There’s really only about seven minutes a day you are fun to be around. Affogato: The best part is you never know when they’re coming.
Affogato: You can de-escalate literally any situation by asking ‘are we about to kiss?’ Affogato: Doesn't work with getting out of betraying people, though.
Crunchy Chip: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.
Affogato: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you. Dark Choco: Being a fish. Affogato: Well, shit.
Affogato: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.
Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and- Dark Choco: No returns. Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad...
34 notes - Posted August 11, 2022
#4
so uh. tried to do a funny [k]night sky costume thing
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43 notes - Posted August 28, 2022
#3
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bullying :(
55 notes - Posted July 30, 2022
#2
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He’s fucking dead guys. Perished. Gone. Fainted permanently. 
56 notes - Posted June 27, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
here have some character memes :)
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See the full post
207 notes - Posted August 21, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 02x09
Croatoan
“At least Dean looks good going on his murder spree. He can get away with doing it.” “Oh, he’s got his Sunday best gun” “Oh, Colt 1911s are my favorite guns.” 
Yeah, but you don’t have a pretty boy pearl inlay with a filigree engraving, Spouse.
“John would use a Glock because he’s a bootlickin’ SOB who is boring and likes practicality.” “It makes sense with a dad like John that all 3 of his sons are queer” “Idk dude. 2 shithead white kids dressed like that walk into your town and asking questions?” “Yeah, Dean was busy so he memorized Schoolhouse Rock” “Look at all that fog everywhere. That might actually be natural fog” “Aren’t they murderizing her ass in the back?” “That’s gotta be supplemental fog with the lighting” “It’s not gonna hurt mom. We’re just gonna murderize you.” “Look at all that grape jelly, except it’s probably not jelly” “Ground and brewed when you make your choice!” 
“I guess he’s dressed like an off-duty US Marshall” “That’s real helpful. Thanks Pam” “Were they doing drugs to each other?” “We gotta talk…about my skin” said in a deep manly man voice
“Gotta shaver in the car? Dean’s 5’o clock is coming in” “I’m about to turn into a monster if I don’t shave soon, Sam” “Nice gun. Dean doesn’t need to compensate” “Don’t the dead people come back or something?” “Huh” making fun of the doctor
“I can’t say for sure with my standard microscope about these micron sized viruses” “Snoofy snooty sulfur” except you do swing that way, Dean
“Yeah right. One of them is bound to hit the car. They’re not all that bad. The car dodged all the bullets”
“This guy has never shot a rifle before. His eye is way too close to that scope.” Laughing at this whole exchange
“Demonic germ warfare, huh?” “Just ask the random ass doctor who has no idea what’s happening.” “At least use the pretty gun” “blasted” “Look at all that fake fog they’re using” “Nowadays they just hire a bunch of teenagers to go vape in the back.” I told Spouse he sounds like an Old Man “Make sure you write that down” “Explosives? I forgot about that” Laughed at Dean
“Why are they standing so close? They’ll get blood splatter” 🎶pretty gun🎶
“Glug glug bitch. I’d be more careful but whatever” “This is such a weird plot line for S2. It was good for the first time through but it doesn’t make sense when we rewatch it” “I’m going to get into my pouty voice again because my name is Sam” “This show is a perfect example of why you don’t give mentally unstable people guns.” “So I guess we blasted everyone for nothin’” “I gotta make a call” “Somebody rebuilt that fence.” “Some day drinking. No big deal. Oh! It’s morning drinking! Even better” “That’s bullshit. They would’ve seen the Grand Canyon”
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allsassnoclass · 2 years
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hiya hazel! how about 4, 7, 14, 27, 33, 48, 53, 74, & 79 for the fic writer ask game? -megs 💙
@igarbagecannoteven hiya megs! thanks for stopping by!
4. How do you choose which fics to write? vibes. just whatever i'm feeling. sometimes i force myself to do fics that have "due dates" (the prompts, ficmas, unmute, etc) but i'm trying to not do that to myself anymore and right now i'm just slapping down words to whatever i want at the time and not thinking about public perception or my audience or whatever
7. Post a snippet from a wip.
She knows that he can't save her, but she never wanted him to, anyway. He understands her, and that sometimes feels like the same thing.
14. What is your favorite location and position to write in? i am currently sitting in the right corner of the couch in the living room, which is my main place i exist in the house tbh. as such, a lot of writing happens here. however, i also sometimes have a lot of success and fun writing at the table in the breezeway! i'm a little sad that i didn't start doing this until recently because it is getting colder out now
27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in? usually i feel like i have strong plots and worlds and can create them relatively easily. however, i have been struggling with this semi-recently, so... idk? i can write alright dialogue?
33. Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most? (fun fact, 33 is one of my favorite numbers!) for anything on ao3, my minimum wordcount is 1000. i don't feel satisfied posting anything less than that and honestly am not good at writing stories shorter than that. i take a lot of words usually. however, for askbox prompts my wordcount cap is 750 because i'm not going to push myself to write more if it's not coming.
48. Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom? mmmm interesting question! out of every character i've ever written, i think right now it's michael. he comes relatively easily to me, which makes things fun.
53. What is the most-used tag on your ao3? Christmas :/ because of ficmas lol
74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love? all of them <3 no that's a lie. let me see. i think i'm going to plug black coffee and sulfur, my demon!calum fic from last halloween. i don't naturally gravitate towards writing concepts like that, but i think i did a pretty good job, and i think a lot more people would enjoy it than have read it so far.
79. Do you have any writing advice you want to share? i know that everyone says this but genuinely STOP caring about other people when you write. do not do that. write because you want to write, not because you want to post something. post because you want to share, for sure (i like sharing things i've created!!! i like sharing things i'm proud of and i like giving people nice things to read!), but write because you want to write, not because you want external validation. write that cringy embarrassing thing that you would only ever post on anon but that you have a lot of exciting inspiration for! write the trope that no one except you cares about! write what you want because you want to write it, not because you're putting some sort of weird internal pressure on yourself.
if you want like. technical advice on writing, then my advice would be to take some time to know your characters. figure out who they are and let them drive the plot, because it will make writing so much easier if you're not forcing them to do things that they would never actually do.
fanfic writing asks
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Green is My Favorite Color Ch. 15
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Pairings: Dean x Fem!OFC
Explicit 18 +/Warnings: None. Show level violence. Angst. Heaps of angst. Vengeful!Dean. Angry!Dean.
Word Count: 4,999
Series Summary: Dean has been her hero from childhood, can she ever get him to be more?
|| Series Masterlist ||
Chapter Summary: There are wars happening in heaven and hell. Will Dean and Julie just be pawns?
A/N:  The fifteenth chapter in a longer series. As I’m writing, the story is stretching out a little and I’m thinking it’s going to be at least 20 chapters. Sorry! 😬 It’s what I’ll call cannon adjacent. It will follow the general storylines through the seasons, but I’m creating my own offshoots. 😊
A/N 2: I'm sorry. 😞
The beautiful divider at the end was created by @talesmaniac89. 💗
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3 weeks later (August 2010)
The scent of the burlap sac around her head made Julie feel slightly nauseous. Her stomach rolled and she worried for a second what would happen if she threw up while duct tape covered her mouth. The thought caused more nausea and Julie did her best to swallow down the bile she could feel rising.
The sac was suddenly pulled off her head and in spite of the fact that she could now see she was tied to a chair in a big empty warehouse, and she couldn't hear any traffic noise, which was never a good sign, she was still grateful for the mostly fresh air that she sucked in through her nose.
Small mercies.
The tape was ripped off her mouth and she grunted in pain, as she surveyed the people around her. The black-eyed people. Demons.
She pulled against the zip ties that bound her to the heavy, metal framed chair she sat on. The chair itself didn't seem to have any weak points that she could find when she rocked against it in different directions. And there was no way she could break the zip ties. She wasn't strong enough to snap them, they didn't have knots she could work free like she could with rope, and they didn't have a lock she could pick like she could with handcuffs.
These demons were smart.
She remembered then, gratefully, that Annie had still managed to get away from them though.
The two of them had been ambushed as they returned to Annie's little car. Three of the demons had jumped on Julie, and another one had gone for Annie.
The experienced hunter thought fast as always and pulled out the small flask she had in her jacket pocket, splashing the demon with holy water as he tackled her to the ground. He screamed and leapt away.
The other three stuffed Julie into the van that pulled up beside Annie's car. The fourth demon had started for Annie again, but the others had shouted at him.
"Leave her, she doesn't matter! Come on!"
And he'd jumped into the van with them. They sped away with her, covering her mouth with the tape and cramming the burlap sac over her head.
Five of them had come for her, but there were six now in front of her. One of them stepped forward and she realized he must be the ring leader. The one who'd sent the other five to do his bidding.
He was on the short side, with blue eyes and short, slicked back brown hair, graying on the sides. His face was round and sported a goatee; a baby face, in spite of the beard. When he flashed his black eyes at her they looked even more out of place than usual in his sweet-natured visage
"Well," He said in slightly nasal voice, "isn't she just the most adorable little huntress you've ever seen?" He looked around at his compatriots who gave grunts of laughter in answer.
Julie scowled at him and did everything in her power to school her features and not give this sulfur-stinking piece of shit the pleasure of her fear.
"What do you want?" She asked, proud of her strong voice.
He shook his head like he was disappointed. "Now, now. Manners. We should make our introductions first."
He placed his hand on his chest. "My name is Kipling, but you can call me Kip. And you are?" He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to fill in the blank.
Julie thrust her chin forward. "I'm the adorable little huntress that's going to rip your heart out. Kip." She popped the p on the end of his name and smiled at him.
Kip smiled back, genuinely pleased with her attitude. He looked around him.
"God, that's even cuter!" He said like she was a kitten demonstrating particularly playful antics.
When he looked back at her, he was still smiling, but something dangerous had shifted into his gaze, something that hovered just behind his baby blue eyes and patronizing smile. Something that made the knots in Julie's stomach tighten.
"I know who you are. You're Julie Taylor and you're here to help me make my dream come true."
He began pacing, meandering in and out of the line of demons in front of her.
"So, here's what we know. Crowley, that pissant little crossroads demon is making a play for hell." He paused and looked at her, his expression incredulous. "Can you believe it? He wants to be King!"
He shook his head and continued on his stroll. "Now, everyone knows that I should be king. I mean, I have dedicated my afterlife to hell. For over six hundred years now, I have been working to make hell great, powerful, I've tortured more people into demons than anyone, corrupted more humans into sullying their souls. I am a company man, through and through."
He stopped again, and his voice rose. "Yet Crowley thinks he can just wander away from his crossroads and right onto the throne?"
He looked at Julie like he expected her to agree the idea was ludicrous.
Julie nodded with an air of sympathy. "Wow. What can I say? That's tragic. You should talk to your Union Rep."
Kip actually chuckled. "You're right, sweetie. The politics of hell are probably beyond your grasp. So, I'll just cut to the chase."
He walked toward her, one slow step at a time. "See, I could best Crowley easy. Unfortunately, he's allied himself with someone pretty powerful." He paused a beat. "The Archangel Raphael."
Julie knew her surprise showed on her face and Kip confirmed it.
"Right?" He said, nodding. "I mean a demon working with an Archangel? It's against the laws of nature or something!"
He drew closer still, barely two feet in front of her and then went down on his haunches. If only her ankles weren't zip-tied too, she could have kicked out and broken his nose.
"Word is," he continued, "Crowley approached your buddy Castiel first, but apparently your boyfriend talked him out of it."
He stood up and began circling Julie's chair, like a vulture. "Now, that's too bad, cause me and mine, we could have ended that little halo with hardly any effort at all. But an Archangel? Well, that is a whole different ballgame."
"So." He stopped behind Julie and slapped his hands down on her shoulders making her flinch. "I need a powerful partner of my own. Which is where your boyfriend comes in."
Julie shook her head, the dread in her stomach pooling. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a boyfriend."
Kip popped his head over her shoulder and turned his head to peer at her up close. Julie resisted the urge to shrink back in revulsion.
"Julie." His tone was admonishing. "Come on. It's everywhere. Everybody knows that Dean Winchester has got himself a slutty little huntress bunkmate."
Julie felt her nostrils flare with annoyance. "And you're really just gonna believe all the gossip you read on page six of Demon Weekly?"
Kip chuckled. "No, of course not. We did our own reconnaissance." He waved his hand to indicate his henchmen. "Watched you and Dean the other day. In that secluded spot? By the lake? He had you pressed up against that tree? Remember?"
Julie remembered. The moment had been beautiful, so full of love and happiness. Dean had been so relieved to have Sam back, the real Sam, he had seemed almost like a kid. He was being a goof and making Julie laugh at his craziness before he'd taken her face gently in his big hands and backed her up against the tree, kissing her and...she cringed to think that moment had been spied upon.
Kip watched the emotions play over her face and sucked his teeth. "Yeah, it was pretty steamy, I gotta say."
He stood up straight and began circling her again. "The point being that we know it to be true. We also know that he's got some pretty powerful allies himself, Dean Winchester."
He reached the front of the chair and began to walk away from her before he spun on his heel to face her again. "Like, Death for example."
His eyes were wide and he was nodding like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept.
"I mean..." he laughed lightly, "Death! As I understand it, Dean convinced the old man to go into Hell, just walk right into the cage and yank back his brother's soul from Lucifer himself!"
He laughed again as though in disbelief. "I mean, man! Dean Winchester has some kind of pull! To have Death as his sidekick?"
His laughter died and his face turned sharp and calculating. "Can you imagine what I could do with a Horseman on my side? I mean, Archangels are powerful, but I doubt they're more powerful than the pale rider himself."
He waved at one of his goons and the demon went to a table off to the side of the room and began rummaging around inside a bag sitting on top.
"So, I need to have a little conversation with your boyfriend. All I want is for him to give me a good reference and convince Death to ride with me."
The demon walked back over to Kip holding what Julie recognized as her phone.
"But," Kip continued. "From what I know of Dean Winchester's reputation, he's not a big fan of demons, so he's probably gonna need some convincing."
He waved at the other demons and they moved in to surround Julie on all sides; she felt fear grip her insides.
"So, my dear," he waved the phone gently towards her, "are you ready for your close up?"
***
"Hey! Grab me a beer!" Dean called to Sam from the den.
Sam came strolling back through the archway from the kitchen shaking his head. "What, just because you rescued me from hell, you figure I'm your servant now?"
He tossed a can of beer to Dean who caught it easily. "Well, I figured one newly recovered soul gets me at least a month or two of favors." He shrugged.
Sam smiled and Dean rejoiced to see his little brother's real, genuine smile again after all this time. Sam leaned back against Bobby's desk and cracked open the can, drinking deeply.
Dean thought about what Julie would say in this moment and cleared his throat. "Seriously though, Sam, how ya doin', man?"
Sam frowned and then quirked up a corner of his mouth. "I'm good."
Dean nodded, but then plunged on. "Almost thirty years in Hell though, I mean, I got some idea of what that means. Although, I know our stints were different."
He took a breath, sure he was doing this wrong. Julie would do it better. "Look, I just mean, if you wanna talk, you know..."
He trailed off and Sam glanced briefly at him before looking down and nodding. After a minute he looked back at Dean for real, gratitude obvious in his expression.
"Thanks. That's...I really appreciate that."
Dean nodded back and the brothers sat awkwardly for a moment. Sam cleared his throat and then moved away from the desk to sit on the other end of the couch from Dean.
"Where's Julie?" Sam asked.
"Oh, she's with Annie. She thought Julie could help her question a witness she was having a hard time with." Dean glanced down at his watch and frowned. "She's been gone a little while though, she should be -"
He cut himself off as his phone beeped. He picked it up and smiled. "Speak of the devil."
He tapped the phone open and frowned. "She sent me a text. Huh, it's a video."
He tapped a few more buttons and then grumbled. "Dammit, Sam. What the hell am I doing here?" He thrust the phone toward Sam who slid over closer to look at it.
"I hate these friggin' smart phones." Dean grouched. "Just make me feel stupid."
Sam chuckled, enjoying the simple pleasure of his brother's complaints. It was so good to be home.
He passed the phone back to Dean, with the video pulled up. "Just press play."
Dean pressed the button and frowned. All he could see for the first few seconds was a big, mostly empty room as the phone whizzed around while it was being brought into position.
When it finally stopped and focused, Dean felt his blood run cold. From what felt like miles away he could hear Sam suck in a breath and then whisper, "Oh my god."
It was Julie. Sitting strapped to a chair. Bloody. Bruised. Her face was puffy and almost unrecognizable because of the countless blows that must have landed there.
He could hear her breathing, rough and labored. Her head was slumped to the side, but he could see one eye open, glaring at the camera that filmed her.
From the other side of the camera came a voice filled with lighthearted sentiment.
"Hi Dean! Hold on..." There was a moment of shuffling and the phone was handed off to someone else and the original cameraman moved to kneel down beside Julie's chair like he was posing for a picture at Disney World. He had a big smile and waved.
"So, you don't know me. My name is Kip and boy have I heard a lot about you."
Dean felt unmitigated, icy cold rage begin to simmer inside him and he swallowed hard against it, determined to keep his wits so he could hear what was being said.
"I have some things that I'd really like to discuss with you, Dean. And I'm sure you can understand I'd like to do it on my turf. Home field advantage and all that. So, I'd like you to come to 1742 RDG Rd 635. We're a bit off the beaten path and it can be a little tricky to find, so best of luck."
He stood up and the camera moved up with him. He approached the camera and smiled.
"Now, to try and incentivize you and, even more importantly, to make sure you don't have the time to work up some big, Dean Winchester style master plan for how to rescue your little sweetie pie here, this is how things are gonna work."
He moved to the side so the camera could focus on Julie again and Dean felt his throat tighten, making it almost impossible to breathe.
"I'm gonna go ahead and break one bone every fifteen minutes until you get here. Starting now."
Another Demon walked forward and, in a blink, brought a heavy bat down against Julie's forearm pinned to the chair.
Julie's high pitched scream ripped through the tinny sound of the phone and Dean squeezed his eyes shut, feeling as though someone had a hand in his chest and was ripping his heart out through his ribs.
Watching the scene unfold on the video was also giving Dean a sickening sense of Deja Vu. Watching Julie be tortured, being helpless to do anything to stop it; it was like it was part of a horrific, reoccurring nightmare.
"Jesus Christ." Sam was whispering beside him and he could hear the ache in his brother's voice and could feel him staring at him.
Kip came back into frame and approached Julie, coming to stand beside the arm that had been broken. She was breathing fast and harsh now, trying to gain control of the pain that was wracking her body.
He crouched beside her again. "So, this is my incentive. The clock is ticking and it's like a twenty minute drive to get here, plus you know the five or ten minutes it will take to send this out and for you to watch it, and...well, by the time you get here, she'll likely have at least one more broken bone, maybe two depending on how much you dilly-dally."
He turned to Julie and grasped her cheeks between his thumb and fingers, gently shaking her head side to side. "So, tell your boyfriend to step on it, hon!"
He turned her face roughly to face the camera and Dean felt tears of rage prickle in his eyes as he looked at the blood and the bruises marring her.
Julie took a deep breath and then spoke quickly. "Dean there are six of them, there's a set of wooden stairs leading down to where I'm -" she was cut off suddenly with a punch from Kip.
His face showed rage for a moment, but then he laughed. "It won't matter. The advantage is still mine, Dean. If you try and come in here, guns blazing, her neck will be the next bone we snap."
He waved again. "See you soon."
The video ended and the room was silent.
Dean could feel the sharp razor's edge of rage slice through him again and he stood up. Sam stood beside him and he was more grateful than ever that his brother was back at his side.
Dean's voice was soft. "We go in, silent and invisible, and we kill every one of those sons of bitches quick and quiet. But Kip, that fucker is mine to kill."
His voice dipped lower and dripped ice. "And he's gonna scream."
***
Everything was happening in flashes for Julie. It was like she was seeing everything through a kind of kaleidoscope, images whirling around in front of her. Sometimes things seemed to rush past her at a frenzied pace, happening almost simultaneously. Other times, the span of one breath seemed to roll on forever.
From the moment the demons had surrounded her and brought their fists down, heavy and unceasing, against her face and body, her head had been spinning.
She'd started to see things a little straighter again while she was being filmed, but then her arm had been smashed and the pain splintered her thoughts once again. She couldn't reign them in, couldn't keep things straight.
Had she said something to Dean? She'd meant to, had meant to give him information he might need. But she didn't remember if she'd actually got it out, or if it had just bounced around inside her brain.
Another bone had been snapped, in her leg this time, but she wasn't sure how long ago that had been. Was it before or after the demons had scattered to protect the entrances to the building.
First mistake. Julie had thought. Should have gone for a smaller space, with only one or two doors to guard, so you could have consolidated your force.
But she couldn't remember when she'd realized that mistake. Was it when she saw them scatter, or after she saw Dean smash a demon through the door that led to the room?
She watched him overpower another demon, thrusting the demon blade into its heart, and at some point she remembered seeing Kip on the ground kneeling in front of Dean.
Sam was holding him in place, an angel blade to the back of his neck, and the Demon was begging Dean to listen to reason, telling him all the things he could offer him.
She remembered Dean cutting him off by slicing his throat and the horrible sticky sound of his bloody, garbled scream.
But she couldn't remember if that was before or after Sam had come running to her, shouting back to Dean. "No, Dean, she's still breathing."
And she couldn't place the moment in the timeline that Dean had come to her and cradled her head gently in his hands, with tears in his eyes. That was the last thing she remembered before everything went black, so that had to be last.
Right? She questioned herself.
She couldn't answer herself though, and now she felt like she was floating, the light of consciousness just out of grasp.
She wanted to wake up, but her mind kept throwing up new images out of sequence and spinning.
Maybe she'd sleep just a little while longer.
***
Dean sat beside Julie's hospital bed and listened to the soft beep of machines that she was once again hooked up to. He watched the consistent, slow drip of her iv, and tried to shut out the voice that was screaming inside his head.
Not yet. He thought.
He didn't have to listen yet.
Julie had to wake up first.
Her doctor had given them the full run down of her injuries earlier when Sam had told them he was her brother.
This doctor was nothing like Dr. Doshi, no warmth, no bedside manner, just cold facts. And the cold facts made Dean feel like someone had burned a hole through his guts.
As he listened to them being read out, the voice had gotten louder, screaming at him, telling him what he knew to be true, and reminding him what had to be done.
But not yet. Not until Julie -
"Dean."
He swung his gaze back to her face and moved in closer to her. She was so quiet.
"Hey, Sweetheart."
She started to smile, but stopped and grimaced as the action pulled at her split lip. She raised her hand toward her mouth and then grunted in pain as her shoulder was aggravated.
Dean put his hands up. "Stop, Jules. Don't...don't try to move at all. You..." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "You have a lot of injuries."
He clenched his jaw against the need to scream and he had the sudden desire to demolish everything in the room; his rage, his pain, and his anger had not dissipated, even with the demon's blood dripping down his hands.
Julie looked down at her body before raising her gaze back to him and trying for a jovial tone.
"Shoulda seen the other guy." She said in a croaky whisper.
Dean shook his head. "That's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
"No, it isn't." Dean said firmly.
Julie turned her face up to the ceiling and nodded very gently. "What are those injuries, exactly?"
Dean stared down at the floor as he listed them in the same dispassionate voice the doctor had used, as though he was just stating data and stats.
"Three broken toes, one shattered femur - the jagged bone was less than an inch away from slicing through the femoral artery and causing an immediate bleed out, four broken ribs, hairline fracture of the clavicle, dislocated shoulder, and multiple facial contusions, and abrasions."
He looked up at her and ran his fingertips featherlight across her cheekbone. "Oh, and a bone bruise on the upper part of the zygomatic bone."
Julie swallowed and then attempted another small smile. "And a partridge in a pear tree."
Dean shut his eyes and dropped his hand. "Jules..."
"I'm sorry." Julie apologized. "Look, I'll be back together in a jiffy if you'll just call Cas."
Dean looked at her like she was nuts. "You think we haven't called him? We're not sure exactly where he is right now. He met us at the warehouse to help. Unfortunately, they must have known he was likely to come with us and almost as soon as we were inside, they zapped him away. He did manage to take one out before they got him though so, go Cas."
He shook his head. "I'm sure he'll contact us as soon as he can, and then he'll come heal you."
Julie smiled her painful smile again. "See, so what are you so worried about?"
Dean scowled at her. "Did you miss the part where I said you were less than an inch away from bleeding out instantly?"
Julie closed her eyes. "But I didn't. So, it's okay."
Dean swallowed the words he wanted to yell at her. How could she be so ridiculous. It was okay? Okay? Her entire body was broken and bruised and she was claiming to be okay?
He wasn't about to scream at her, though, not while she was laying in a hospital bed, and not when this was...
No, not yet. Dean thought. I don't have to think about that yet.
He focused back on Julie and saw that she was watching him now. He smiled softly and nodded. "Sure, kid. You're gonna be fine."
Her puffy face seemed to relax a little and her eyes began to blink heavily.
"Sleep some more, Jules. You need your sleep."
Julie nodded and he leaned down to press the gentlest of kisses against her forehead, hardly more than a breath across her skin.
She smiled again and then popped her eyes open. She caught his gaze with an anxious expression. "You'll be here when I wake up?"
Dean swallowed and smiled. "Yeah, I'll be here." He lied.
She accepted the lie as truth and fell into a peaceful sleep. He waited a few minutes until he knew she was deeply asleep and then he took the talisman from inside his jacket and tied it around the bed rail.
Julie's voice echoed in his mind:
--For the times when we have to be apart.
He closed his eyes tight, his hands clenching into fists, trying to force away the memory of her voice and the feel of her against him. For a moment he thought seriously about taking the talisman back.
But no. This wasn't "time they'd be apart".
This was the end. And he'd given it to her a long time ago. It was hers to keep.
He stared at Julie for one more long, lingering moment. The pain spreading through his chest was one he'd only felt a few times in his life. It was intense and it stole his breath.
Desperate to get away while he still had the will to do what was right, he turned and left the room.
He almost bumped into Sam as he left.
"Hey." Sam said quietly trying to give Dean one of the coffees he held. "How is she?"
"Better." Dean replied, shaking his head to refuse the cup. "I mean, she's not better, but she woke up for a few minutes. She's sleeping again."
Something in Dean's voice and demeanor alerted Sam and he looked suspiciously at him.
"What's going on? Where are you going?"
Dean just gave his brother a look that spoke volumes and Sam shook his head. "Dean, you can't do this!" He tossed the two coffees into the trash and pulled his brother further from the door.
"I don't wanna do this, Sam." Dean said. "You think I wanna do this?" His voice was strained and ragged. "But I have to go. I have to end this. It was stupid and reckless of me to ever let it happen in the first place."
"Dean - " Sam began again, but Dean cut him off.
"No, listen to me, dammit! This is the second time in less than a fucking year!" His voice was harsh and desperate now.
"Twice! Twice she's ended up in a hospital bed, inches from death. And both times were directly," he punched his fist into his palm, "directly because of me."
He shook his head, his eyes angry and filled with dark pain. "What the hell is gonna happen to her next time?"
Sam looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, trying to refute his brother's argument. "Look, she's a hunter, Dean. She signed up for this, I mean, she knows - "
"No, Sam! This has nothing to do with her being a hunter. She isn't in that hospital bed because she's a fucking hunter! She's there because she was with me. Because demons wanted me and went through her to get me. Just like the angels did!"
He threw up his hands. "I mean, Annie is a hunter, and she's been with Julie both times. But right now she's at home with a twisted ankle and a broken cellphone. That's all that happened to her."
He shook his head again, his voice lowering. "Because they didn't care about her, they weren't coming for her."
He swallowed thickly and pressed his fingers into his eyes as he attempted to find the strength he needed to walk away.
"I have to do what's right here, Sam. I gotta do right by her."
Sam clenched his jaw and huffed a breath through his nose. "Don't you think she should have a say in this, don't you think - "
"No." Dean said simply and when he looked back at Sam the tears he'd tried so hard to push away were back. "No, I don't. Because..."
He blinked rapidly and the tears fell. He licked his lips and bit down into his bottom lip, trying to get control.
"Because she will always choose me." He tapped his fingers against his breastbone. He shrugged and smiled a completely heartbroken smile. "Always. Over everything. Over herself, over her safety..."
He closed his eyes. "Over her own life."
He breathed deeply again and brushed away his tears. "So, I'm choosing her. I'm choosing her safety, her life. Over my own selfish need for her."
He swallowed hard again and his voice was filled with anger when he spoke again. "I was a bastard from the start of this, to ever pretend she stood a chance if she was with me."
He patted Sam's shoulder hard. "I'm gonna be gone for a while, Sammy."
Sam sputtered, trying to formulate an argument. But Dean just continued on talking.
"I'll check in regular, let you know I'm good - make sure you're good."
And he smiled and walked away with another hard smack to Sam's back. Sam took a few steps toward him and called out.
"Her heart is gonna be broken, you know that. Completely."
Dean stopped and turned his head slightly, nodding. "I know." He said, continuing on.
Broken, but still beating. He thought. It's my only option.
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violetbudd · 2 years
Text
I was tagged by @aliceinmadnessland to list 8 of my favorite artists, my favorite album of theirs, and my favorite song from that album. Thanks moot for the tag! <3
Three days grace 𖤐 One-X 𖤐 let it die
Nirvana 𖤐 Bleach 𖤐 negative creep
Kittie 𖤐 In the black 𖤐 cut throat
Slipknot 𖤐 All hope is gone 𖤐 sulfur
Deftones 𖤐 Saturday Night Wrist 𖤐 beware
Seether 𖤐 Karma and Effect 𖤐 Remedy
Sum 41 𖤐 Chuck 𖤐 Pieces
Jack Off Jill 𖤐 Sexless Demons and Scars 𖤐 Devil with the Black Dress On
I tag: @bloodykissex @corrodedmutt @corpsemaggot @blood-sucking-freaks
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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years
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//of the seventh circle. sakusa kiyoomi//
Request: MAAM I AM NOW HUMBLY REQUESTING SOME DEMON OMI >:"( FUCK-
Warnings: some shoving and a little sprinkle of choking
Word Count: 1.3K
Notes:  It’s seven am.  My double-shot americano has long since worn off.  It’s definitely time for a nap.
(Demon!Sakusa x Human!reader)
 You should’ve known that you weren’t alone.  The cups that would casually be pushed off the counter while you were in the bathroom, the faint pattering of nails against the walls, the kitchen drawers that would open all on their own.  The feeling of being watched raising the hairs on the back of your neck each passing moment.  The shadowy figure that seemed to pass by your bedroom door in the late hours of the night just as you were about to fall asleep.  
He had always been there, watching you, lurking in the shadows, waiting for his moment.  It was such a fun game.  Your confusion at each and every sound he would make.  Did you have rats that kept scratching around?  Did you leave that drawer open?  The way you would cover your head with a blanket when you would lay your tired eyes on his looming figure as he wandered your house in the depths of night never failed to bring a sly smile to his face.  Scaring the humans?  It was his favorite way to pass the time.  
But, when you’ve existed on this plane as long as Sakusa, time was nothing more than an illusion.  Days and nights meant nothing to him anymore.  The years that passed all seemed to run together at this point.  All of the families that moved into this home only to leave in a matter of months because of him were all the same.  
Then there was you.  It had been three months since your arrival and while there were times that he would find you shaking with fright, more often than not, you simply carried on about your day, convinced that all of the strange things that were happening were a cause of your own negligence.  It infuriated the demon that inhabited your home more than any religious symbol ever could.  Feeding off of the fear of the humans gave him the strength to keep roaming this world.  It kept him from having to go back to Hell for another 300 years, but the fact that you were just so unbothered?  Well, the reality of his situation was approaching him faster than he would’ve liked.  
He found himself struggling to flicker lights, a task that he should’ve been able to do with ease, but his powers were beginning to drain.  It was like Satan already had a grasp on his ankle, trying to pull him back down to those fiery pits, the screaming of tortured souls being the only music to fill the silence.
3:00 AM may be known as the Witching Hour, the point in the dead of night where spirits and creatures of lore are at their strongest, but when you were thirsty, you were thirsty.  Your resident demon heard you stumbling and cursing through your house as you struggled to make it to the kitchen in your sleep-infested daze.  
You didn’t bother to turn the lights on, a mistake.  You would’ve seen the man sitting on your kitchen counter if you had.  You would’ve screamed, possibly called the cops only for them to find nothing but the smell of sulfur where the man had been.  But, rather, you merely opened a cabinet, reaching for a glass.  That feeling was back.  The feeling of a pair of eyes boring into you, carefully following each and every muscles that you moved.  But, when you turned around there was nothing, just a drawer that you don’t remember opening hanging slightly ajar.
Then, long fingers wrapping around your neck, nails grazing across the delicate skin as the fingers slowly, slowly tighten.  There’s a sudden feeling like you had been hit square in the chest as you struggle to take a full deep breath, a cold presence pressed against your back and looming heavily over you.  The scream that wanted to escape was trapped somewhere beneath the bubble of fear that had formed within your throat.  A chill went up your spine at the feeling of sharp teeth and soft lips moving against your left ear, hair tickling the side of your face.
“You scared yet, sweet cheeks?”  The smirk was evident in the velvety smooth voice that filtered into your ear.  Even if you hadn’t heard him speak, you could feel the slight curve of the corner of the man’s mouth.
You push the lump in your throat down, a small, “Who are you?” escaping you as one pointed claw slides gently across your skin, moving up to graze your face.
“My name?  That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, sweet cheeks.  Didn’t anyone ever tell you that names have a lot of power?”
“I’m not scared of you.”
There’s a low chuckle as the hand that had once been wrapped around your neck grasps your chin, forcing you to look at the thing that had come to your home.  Soulless black eyes stared deeply into your own.  Even in their darkness, there was a sinister glint of mischief.  “Isn’t lying a sin?  You may want to ask that man in the sky that you humans are so fond of to forgive you.  I can feel your feeble little body trembling.  You even look like you might cry.  You poor thing,” he says coldly, clicking his tongue slightly as he shakes his head.  “It’s okay to admit it.  You can be scared.”  
“Who are you?” 
“Aren’t you a stubborn one?  You want to know that badly?  Fine.  My friends down in the seventh circle call me Sakusa.  Sakusa Kiyoomi, since you care so much.  And who are you, my little play thing?”
“What are you?”
The grip on your chin tightens, fingernails digging into your flesh.  That smirk flattens into a snarl, eyes taking on a whole new level of darkness.  Your back makes contact with the door of your refrigerator, head slamming painfully against the aluminum.  In the depth of the night, there’s a certain unholy beauty to him, moonlight casting eerie shadows across his face, black curls blending in with the bleeding darkness.  It was terrible, really.  Knowing that something this beautiful could be so incredibly foul.
“Answer my question.”  There was a tremble in his lips and the sharp points of rows of teeth were barely evident in the low lighting.  
Your mouth opened, an objection ready to leave you, but your body is pulled from the fridge only to be roughly pushed back.  Sakusa’s hand twists your head uncomfortably to the side, his strong body pressed against yours preventing you from even thinking about moving.  “Your name, sweet cheeks.”
“Y-Y/N,” you whimper, fear lacing through each syllable.  But, it makes him grin.  The shake that had been so visible in your body had echoed into your voice.  It made something inside his chest well with pride.  This was because of him.  That tremble in your words, the quiver of your bottom lip.  All of it was from him, the unholy entity that had been watching you, waiting in the shadows for this perfect moment.
The weakness that he had once felt had now since passed.  He could feel his renewed strength prying Satan’s claws off of him, allowing him to stand his ground on the human plane for just a little longer.  A small sigh of contentment escapes him.  His thumb grazes your soft skin, eyes taking in each and every feature that he now had the privilege to see up close.  There would be marks against your skin in the morning, the demon’s touch burning momentarily into your flesh in the light of the day, but that just made this all the more exciting.  
“We’re going to have a fun time together, don’t you think, Y/N?”
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fidelissimi-moved · 2 years
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I posted 1,482 times in 2021
545 posts created (37%)
937 posts reblogged (63%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 1.7 posts.
I added 702 tags in 2021
#001. writing & prompts ( meme ) - 113 posts
#000. out of character ( dorie just keeps swimming ) - 86 posts
#tobeblamed - 84 posts
#004. about ruby ( countenance ) - 84 posts
#soulboundwinchester - 73 posts
#sunsymbols - 69 posts
#au: bunkerverse season 8 - 66 posts
#s9: au - 50 posts
#002. relationship: ruby & sam winchester - 41 posts
#001. writing & prompts ( headcanon ) - 36 posts
Longest Tag: 120 characters
#(im steadfastly keeping both her mouth and mine shut about what we thought about dean's looks in s8. its safer that way)
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
7 !!!
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Tumblr users themed questions
7. Favorite blog(s)?
all of you?? okay, i’m gonna just put a small list, and i’m sorry if i’m leaving anyone out,i don’t mean to.
@seesgood / @jigscw / @shallowsurvived, @themisfortunateson / @saltcburn / @monstrumviri, @tobeblamed, @sunsymbols, @seraphaem / @cowboyruckus, @heartsurpluss, @failedhero, @delabor, @enduringlystoic, @dissolvedshadows / @formerlyrighteous, @demonstigma, @redruined, @multapersona / @blessedisdeath, @moonwoken, @brknlostsouls, @dalphahale, @artivexed, @brokenlilsoldier, @crackedmxgic, @endfaith, @inkchester, @kgbastard / @verdansks, @peaceific, @shieldworn, @shesdaylight, @trageadies, @themechaneer, @wolfhymns, @willchosen.
16 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 02:25:31 GMT
#4
Okay I’m gonna bring up an issue I have and I don’t mean to point fingers or anything but I realized that there’s been an assumption that’s made about demons and is used to “identify” them when but there isn’t any canon proof to back it up. I’ve had so many people use this as an excuse to know that Ruby is a demon, but it’s literal bullshit and I need this to STOP.
YOU  CAN’T  SMELL  A  DEMON.  THEY  DON’T  SMELL  LIKE  SULFUR.  THEY  DON’T  SMELL  LIKE  ANYTHING  THAT  WOULD  IDENTIFY  THEM  AS  A  DEMON.
So here’s why I say that.
Meg, in season 1, meets Sam on the side of the road and Sam never suspects a thing about her, or smells any certain type of smell that would inform him of her being a demon. She even sees him again later and still, right up in his face, he has no clue, and when Dean gets close to them, he has no clue either. 
Ruby, in season 3, sits across the table from Sam in the diner, never mentioning what she is, leading him to believe she’s a hunter with some connection somewhere to his mother. Not once does he ever suspect she’s a demon, even going as far as getting in her face at one point later in the episode in his motel room and still, he’s oblivious. UNTIL SHE FLASHES BLACK EYES AT HIM.
In season 4, Ruby stands right in front of Dean and Bobby in the doorway of her and Sam’s motel room and completely fools them about what she is, even sticking around to get changed into some different clothes while conversing with Sam, with zero worry in the world about Dean or Bobby recognizing who or what she is.
The show did, in it’s early days, play to the fact that demons left behind sulfur when they manifested somewhere, but even then, if they were a low enough level demon (Ruby, Meg, any black eyed demon), it was barely a trace of sulfur, as opposed to demons like Azazel, who left piles of sulfur when he manifested somewhere because he was a higher level demon.
(check my source bro)
There has never been anything alluding to the fact that demons actually smell like sulfur though, or have any distinct scent whatsoever. Just because they left behind trace amounts of sulfur dust WHEN THEY MANIFESTED somewhere (and not just when they walk around like everyone else.)
Basically this is me pleading with you guys, don’t assume things like this. Demon’s have no scent. They leave behind sulfur when they manifest, but that doesn’t mean the smell follows them around or they would’ve been had by WAY more hunters at this point. 
18 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 18:36:19 GMT
#3
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@sunsymbols​ said:     “ you didn’t have to come ya know? i’m glad you did though. ”
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See the full post
19 notes • Posted 2021-03-26 04:33:11 GMT
#2
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indie, private, selective RUBY from the CW’s Supernatural
established 2012
reimagined by dorie
56 notes • Posted 2021-03-22 03:48:43 GMT
#1
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ruby closes the door behind them as they walk into the cabin, peeling her boots off in the doorway to set by the fire later to dry. she's keeping one eye on sam constantly now, not so much afraid of something physically happening as she is worried that his mind might snatch him away from reality again before he's come back all the way.
"will you grab towels?" she asks, turning her back to him to peel her soaked through jeans down her hips. "you probably won't drip through the house as bad as I will right now." her hair is plastered to her head and her shirt soaked through on the trip back through the woods in the rain.
@soulboundwinchester gets a starter!!!
60 notes • Posted 2021-04-26 14:28:36 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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ryqoshay · 3 years
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OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) YohaRiko
Again, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. About all of my flagships. And I wanted to answer all of the questions. And not wait for a handful to maybe be asked.
Anyway, credit again goes to @lonelypond​ for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.
Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.
And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for Happy Life, and to a lesser degree the AU, both for scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.
1. Who wakes up first?
Riko. Yohane is very much not a morning person, especially after a late night of streaming.
2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?
Yohane. See above. However, if she doesn’t have time commitments for the day, Riko may occasionally want to stay in bed for some activities other than sleeping.
3. Who takes longer getting ready?
Either, though they are fond of getting ready together and helping one another, so in these cases, they’re done at the same time.
4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?
Yohane has many rituals for inducing sleep involving all manner of meditation, incense, herbal tea, topical rubs, nightmare wards and more. Whether or not they work is up to debate, but Riko is comforted by the sentiment, as portrayed in Dream Warden. Yohane herself takes comfort from being near those she loves, particularly Riko, while she sleeps.
5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?
Yohane, though it depends on the type of movie.
6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?
More often Riko, though Yohane does enjoy watching a sleeping Riko from time to time.
7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?
Yohane. 100% Yohane. And she is well aware of how cheesy they are. And she knows how much Riko loves them.
8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?
Yohane gets competitive over games in general.
9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?
Yohane is more likely to do so, though Riko can be absentminded on occasion.
10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?
Yohane.
11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?
Both have their reasons for their particularness in displaying their shelving; Riko likes to be able to quickly locate her favorite doujin while Yohane is considerate of the background for her ritual streams.
12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?
Yohane. With as many different attempts at different voices and accents as she can.
13. Who points out a dog when they see one?
Early on, both, though for different reasons; Yohane out of excitement and Riko out of fear. Later, Yohane retains her excitement while Riko becomes more lax in her reactions.
14. Who’s prone to road rage?
Yohane.
15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?
Either
16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?
Yohane knows she burns easily and is pretty good at remembering, though Riko is mindful that her girlfriend can be careless at times.
17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?
Riko.
18. Who gets the window seat?
Probably Yohane. Likely accompanied by some statement about missing being able to fly under her own power.
19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?
Yohane.
20. What do they argue about the most?
Early after moving in together, Yohane had a bad habit of bringing home stray pets, despite it being against the policy of the apartment complex, as depicted in Hibagon. These arguments subsided once the policy was changed, as depicted in Phobetor.
21. Who’s clumsier?
Yohane, though Riko certainly has her moments.
22. Who texts more often?
Yohane.
23. Who is better with kids?
Yohane is better at keeping kids entertained with her antics while Riko is better at tending to their care, be it feeding them, calming them down when they’re upset or applying first aid; Yohane is pretty good with first aid as well, having had far too much practice on herself.
24. Who’s the better cook?
Debatable. As I mentioned in the Notes for A Roost for Weary Wings, Yohane is capable of producing higher quality results, but also fails more spectacularly. Riko may lack the skills and confidence to produce highly extravagant meals, but she is far more consistent in producing edible food.
25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?
Riko. Despite what one may assume from my prior answer. Yohane will still eat it, not only because she has a strange sense of taste, but also because her beloved Riri made it for her and she will be damned before letting it go to waste.
26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?
Possibly Yohane.
27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?
Yohane.
28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?
Definitely Yohane.
29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?
Yohane. She’ll even bring her own spoon, as depicted in Valentine’s Taste Test.
30. Who likes doing the dishes?
Riko doesn’t mind it. Yohane dislikes it but is willing to balance the workload after Riko cooked.
31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?
For food, especially exotic or exceptionally spicy food? Yohane. Although she does have a bit of a sweet tooth, as her favorites would imply. For enacting scenes from her favorite doujinshi with her girlfriend? Riko.
32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?
Both, though for slightly different reasons. Riko believes it is romantic to know certain things about one’s partner. Yohane believes it is the duty of a fallen angel to know such things about their little demons… or fellow angels?
33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?
Yohane will often eat too fast and give herself a headache. Her favorite flavors are those of her favorite foods, chocolate and strawberry. Riko eats slower, more often out of a sundae dish than a cone, in part because a dish is better for eating at her pace, but also because it’s easier for Yohane to “steal” a bite or two. She enjoys Yohane’s favorites, but is also fond of mint and vanilla.
34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?
Absolutely. Riko prefers going to museums or orchestra performances, though she has dragged Yohane to several doujin stores over the years. Yohane prefers higher energy environments like amusement parks, though she has dragged Riko to several gothic Lolita clothing stores and occult shops over the years. Both girls look forward to events like Comiket.
35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?
Riko smells the slightly sulfuric scent of boiling eggs her parents made often while she was growing up, the clean, salty air of Uchiura, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory. Yohane smells sweet black lilies, the lingering smoke from a myriad of incense that always permeates occult shops, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory.
The last scent for both is an idea I had while Googling random stuff for this question. It’s basically how one website describe the smell of Dragon’s Blood resin when burned as incense. I want to bring it up in a scene or two in both HL and HL(AU), though there will be a difference between the kinds found here on Earth and up in Heaven, which may end up as a minor connecting plot point.
I realize this leaves Riko without something that she knows is directly related to Yohane, but I was trying to avoid using incense too much, as it already had three entries between them. Also, it technically is related to Yohane, she just doesn’t realize it right away. I’m hoping whatever I write someday will make that connection for her. Not that she’ll ever smell Amortentia in HL, but…
36. Which one is the secret snuggler?
It’s no secret that Yohane loves her snuggles. Riko is quieter about her desires, but can be quite insistent, nonetheless.
37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?
Riko. Yohane is far more vocal about her discomfort, especially when it comes to temperature.
38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?
Riko is more likely to do so, though Yohane might as well. That said, I don’t believe I have them owning a vehicle in HL, so this probably won’t come into play anytime soon in my works.
39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?
Riko, as the more consistent cook of the pair, she is more likely to make their lunch bentos for the day. (Bonus: What does it say?) Casual reminders of her love for her Yocchan.
40. Who is the most affectionate?
Both are quite affectionate, though Yohane is far more likely to initiate, especially in public though even in private.
41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?
Riko is most often the big spoon. Though Yohane might try to have one believe elsewise.
42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?
Riko loves Yohane’s smile when she is passionate about something, be it her streams or games or whatever. Yohane loves the way Riko’s fingers dance across the keyboard.
43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?
Yohane becomes increasingly aware of Riko’s behavior and attitude toward Chika and has to make a conscious effort to avoid holding anything against the idol group’s leader; she likes Chika as a friend, after all, and is thankful that she brought her into the group in the first place. Riko starts to include Yohane in her fantasies.
44. What are their nicknames for each other?
Yocchan and Riri
45. Who worries the most? Over what?
Riko is constantly concerned that Yohane’s abysmal luck will eventually cause her actual harm, as in more than just catching a cold or getting a scrape or small cut. Yohane also fears that her abysmal luck will adversely affect Riko.
46. Who initiates kisses?
Yohane all the time, in public and in private. Riko, in private.
47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?
Yohane said it first in Revelations.
48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?
That’s actually a good question. I haven’t decided yet for this ship. I mean I have plans for revealing that the blonde Mari knows, but as for the couple actually telling people… hrm… Off the top of my head, I’d be more likely to say Yohane.
49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?
Both are quite capable of entertaining themselves without the other. Riko can play the piano and Yohane can play her games until their fingers cramp if they are not actively doing something together. And they have Phobetor and Prelude to pet and take on walks and play with. It’s not until bedtime that they become more aware of the other’s absence.
50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?
Depends. Yohane is more the emotional rollercoaster and could easily be overwhelmed by kindness from the girl for whom she held a one-sided crush for far too long. Riko is also likely to moved, though more through something that fits into some trope she loves in her doujin; good thing Yohane can be quite genre-savvy when she wants.
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goodomensblog · 4 years
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Afterward - Part 13
A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic
Here’s how it works:
I’ll write a scene.
At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.
Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.
Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12
(Another landslide winner! #2 was the clear favorite. Thank you for voting!)
Afterward - - - Part 13
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“If you want to keep that hand, demon, you’ll release me. Now.”
Crowley, despite very much wanting to keep said hand, does not let go.
When Gabriel reaches over his shoulder, pulling his Heavenly sword from the aether, Crowley twists out of the way. “Woah, woah, woah - hey! Hold on. Just wait.”
“Just wait?” Gabriel snaps, voice dripping with incredulity. “Heaven is under attack, and you want me to just wait?”
“What about Beelzebub?”
“What about them? Maybe - just maybe it’s a bunch of demons who are fighting my angels right now!”
“That thing, whatever it was we felt - that was not demonic, you know it as well as I do.”
“Then what the fuck are my angels fighting?” Gabriel asks, his knuckles going white around the sword pulled halfway into existence. 
From beyond the hall, the cries have grown louder, fiercer - more desperate. There is a static crackling in the air and the acrid, burnt smell of ozone.
Crowley, after risking a glance at the sword, releases Gabriel’s sleeve - and instead, grabs him by the wrist.
“Something,” Crowley hisses, “that was strong enough to bust into Heaven with one blow. Something that I’ve never encountered - and I once traveled all the universe hanging stars. Something that’s, by the sounds of it, carving through ranks of highly trained angelic warriors like butter.”
“That’s why,” Gabriel says, giving his arm a savage yank, “I need to-”
“That’s why you’re gonna want a bloody Lord of Hell in fighting shape!”
At that, Gabriel’s struggles momentarily cease. He blinks, scoffing, “You can’t seriously think-”
“I think that Beelzebub wants to live. And they - like Aziraphale and myself, are currently stuck in Heaven with you, a bunch of angels, and whatever the fuck that thing is. So be smart about this, you giant idiot. Save Beelzebub. Help us find out what they know. And maybe, just maybe we can all use Beelzebub, Lord of Hell, to help us get out of this god damned- er, blessed - augh - whatever! Predicament!” Crowley finishes, chest heaving.
It isn’t exactly a lie. While Crowley is certain Beelzebub, like a cornered cat, will indeed willingly fight whatever this thing is, he is not at all sure how battle ready old Beelzebub will be after just a handful of Hellfire. 
But Gabriel doesn’t need to know that.
White knuckled fingers loosen their hold on the sword’s gleaming hilt. Gabriel sinks back. Running a hand up and over his face, he mutters to himself, and sharp, ugly curses fill the spaces between his breaths. When his eyes open, his razor-edge gaze zeroes in on Crowley’s hand. “Seriously. Stop touching me.”
Crowley’s hand snaps open.
“I won’t abandon my soldiers. Not now. Not when they need me,” Gabriel says, yanking his jacket straight. “So you’ll have to retrieve the Hellfire.”
Crowley, who had realistically expected this conversation to end with one of them flipping the middle finger and the other attempting to administer a beheading, takes a moment to process this development.
“I - wait - you want me to-?”
“Yes. Obviously. Shut up.”
“Right. Okay,” Crowley says, and shakes his head. “Wait, where-”
“Do you remember where the records are stored?”
Crowley pauses at that. 
His memory of Heaven - it’s strange. In many ways, it blurs together, a mural of incandescent colors, textures, half-recalled musical notes, voices - that from up close, are nearly incomprehensible.  
But there are moments of clarity. As if he has, for a second, stepped back a pace, and sees just a glimpse of the full thing; an expansive mural that his mosaic memories press together to create. He knows he hung the stars. And he knows, from some forgotten space in him mind, where in these white marble halls the records are kept.
“Yes,” Crowley says, because he can picture the room in his mind now: those twin pillars on either side of that tall, golden door.
“It’s stored on the highest level, in the silver chest,” Gabriel says, curt.
“Got it,” Crowley says, already retreating - because now that Gabriel has given him the information he needs, Crowley doesn’t want to go and give the archangel a chance to change his mind. 
But Gabriel has already turned away. Black, polished shoes tapping smartly against white marble, the angel strolls down the hall and draws a gleaming sword out of the air.
Crowley is mentally mapping his route. He’ll need to take the first door on the right, then cross the atrium and - 
Gabriel’s shout catches him before he can leave.
“By the way, I’m not an idiot, demon. I do know that a single jar of expired Hellfire’s not exactly going to do any demonic miracles.” Gabriel stands at the end of the hall, violet eyes bright in the half light. “And I know Beelzebub’s not going to help anyone anytime soon.”
Crowley stops, turning fully back.
Gabriel lifts the sword, jabbing the blade in Crowley’s direction. “After all this is done, I will be in touch. I expect Beelzebub to share the information they promised me.”
Crowley stares, baffled. “What are you-”
“No - nuh - shush!” Gabriel snaps, waving the sword. “In my room, there’s a passageway out of Heaven. It’s behind the tapestry. After you heal Beelzebub, take them and go.”
“Ohh-kay,” Crowley says, trying to wrap his mind around this second surprising development. “You - that’s - uh - huh. You know, that’s actually pretty nice of you, Gabriel.”
“Yeah, no - zip it,” Gabriel bites out, shifting with obvious discomfiture. “The last thing I need is anyone finding a couple of demons and a bad angel in my private rooms. Take Beelzebub and get out.” And with a final jab in Crowley’s direction, Gabriel spins the sword with a flourish and disappears into a beam of screaming light.
“What a nutcase,” Crowley says to the empty hallway. 
He crosses the atrium at a sprint, keeping a careful eye out for angels - but the atrium and surrounding halls are empty. Heaven’s full forces have been mustered, then. It’s a sobering thought, and one that makes Crowley run just a little faster. 
 As he runs, he can’t help but think of Uriel and Gabriel’s conversation. God is….missing? Could it possibly be true? Crowley’s head tilts back, as if he might spy Her amongst the arched ceiling tiles stretching forlornly above.
She couldn’t be gone, right?
After all, where would She go?
The entrance to the Hall of Records is as abandoned as the rest of Heaven, and Crowley flings open it’s arched doors. The Records Room is - staggering. Crowley’s step slow as shelves and stairs rise up around him. His footsteps echo - from marble floors, between pillars, up winding stairs, and fading as they rise into the cavernous dome extending far, far above.
Crowley swears softly, and that echoes too.
As his shoe touches the first stair, he thinks of where he wants to be: the top floor; and when he reaches the second step, the domed ceiling is suddenly directly above him - and the top floor, bathed in gold, is before him, as though it had always been.
Crowley doesn’t have time for surprise or awe, so he focuses instead on the chest; which is sitting, unbothered, at the far side of the room. 
He half expects some kind of booby trap, so when the silver lid slides unhesitatingly open, Crowley can’t help but flinch back. 
Nothing happens. 
Brows lifted, Crowley peers tentatively over the chest’s edge. There, at its center, sits a black jar. Sniffing the air, Crowley can just make out the slightest hints of sulfur.
Tensing, he reaches a hand in - and is relieved when his fingers close over the lid of the jar. He draws it out - and breathes a grateful sigh when no traps spring and no alarms blare.
Kneeling before the chest, he cracks the jar’s lid. When roaring heat surges forth, he snaps the lid back.
“Yep, that’s the stuff,” he says, and screws the lid tight.
Crowley takes the stairs at a run. On the first step, he thinks of the ground floor, and on the second step, he steps confidently into - a room stacked with scrolls.
“Huh,” he says, craning his head back to look at rich oak shelves and the layers of pale scrolls artfully piled upon them. “You’re not what I wanted.”
Deciding to try again, Crowley is turning back to the stairs when faded paint catches his eye. 
He stops.
The mural is nearly entirely covered by shelves and scrolls. The visible section is a web of cracked paint and fading colors - a stark contrast to Heaven’s typically immaculate decor. But even faded as it is, Crowley can make out, clear as day, a Bentley - his Bentley, painted in peeling fresco. 
Crowley blinks. Rubs his eyes. Squints, and blinks again.
“That’s....weird.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Rushing back with the Hellfire, Crowley has stumbled upon an impossible oddity in the Hall of Records. When faced with this strange omen, Crowley will…
Investigate. He doesn’t have much time to spare, but he can’t leave without uncovering the other side of this mysterious mural. 
Leave. The mural is strange, but time is of the essence. Crowley can’t risk the detour.
Please comment or reblog to vote! I can’t wait to see what you all choose :)
Part 14
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Maybe Stay Home This Time
Commission for the ever-lovely @likearumchocolatesouffle !!! Good Omens this time. I hope you like it, luv! <3 Commission info is here [X]
~
“Angel, I just want to sleep,” Crowley groaned.
Aziraphale huffed and readjusted the “web camera” Anathema had forced on him last year. It kept trying to fall over. “I know you do, but we have to discuss what to do,” Aziraphale insisted. “How are we going to fix this?”
“There is no way we can fix this ourselves,” Crowley grumped. “Pestilence is out for a spin. Individual demons and angels can’t stop him. We can’t even protect the Isles.”
“Hmph.” Aziraphale gave up fussing and just let the camera fall on its side. “People are dying, though.”
“Yes, that usually happens when Pestilence hits hard.” Crowley rubbed his face with one hand; his other was holding the mobile through which he was communicating. He was apparently sleeping on the ceiling, which meant he was upside down on Aziraphale’s computer screen. “We can probably help with London, but it’s just going to keep coming back in.”
Aziraphale sighed. He’d known it would be a long shot, trying to save the world again, but he really did want to try. He would’ve asked Adam, but the boy was barely twelve; it wasn’t right to ask him if he had any demonic heritage left in him, let alone enough to banish Pestilence. “Fine. So we can’t do much ourselves. What can we do?”
“Follow the rules, I guess,” Crowley replied reluctantly. “Even if we can’t save the world, we can help not spread anything.”
“Oh, very well.” Aziraphale tugged his waistcoat straight irritably. He’s already been cooped up for months; it was beginning to feel like he was losing his strict control. What he wouldn’t give for a walk in the park and a fine dinner after… “I will contact you again tomorrow.”
Crowley groaned.
“Don’t take that tone with me!” Aziraphale snapped. “You can sleep in between. I’m...” lonely, he wanted to say, but he still couldn’t bring himself to. He missed Crowley’s presence. But this was enough, just hearing his voice, seeing him on screen. Aziraphale just needed a bit of grounding.
“Fine,” the demon replied, but not as angrily. He had his knowing-look on, the look that meant he could see through Aziraphale’s bluster. It was very annoying. “When will you call?”
“I don’t know. After noon.”
“Good. I can get plenty of sleep in before then.”
~
Aziraphale called Crowley at noon on the dot, and rambled to him about his newest books, desperate to speak to someone. Crowley told him all about the rules that had been laid down, which explained several things about Aziraphale’s favorite restaurants being closed, and agreed to another call the next day. He seemed lonely, too. Well, as long as they could speak to each other, they would survive.
It was two days later, when Aziraphale was having a nap of his own, that he had a nightmare.
He couldn’t really tell what was happening, except that Gabriel was laughing and there was the sound of enormous flies buzzing and the smell of brimstone and Crowley screaming—and then Aziraphale woke up, and threw himself upright, shaking and gasping. Without thinking, he grabbed the telephone by his bed and barely managed to dial Crowley. But because he needed and expected to speak to his demon, that’s who was dialed.
The moment Crowley said, “It’s fucking midnight, angel, what—” Aziraphale began to babble over top of him, telling him about his nightmare, about how he was sorry, about how he would never let that happen, about how he would destroy anyone who hurt Crowley. It took a long time for him to get his torrent of words under control, and he wished desperately that he could cry. But angels don’t have tears. So he hiccuped and hugged himself and trailed off, high-strung and still so very upset.
“That won’t happen,” Crowley said firmly. “You don’t have to worry about that happening. You won’t have to do any destroying or smiting or whatever. We’re safe, alright? Haven’t heard a peep from either side. We’re safe.”
Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, but his chest was easing and he could breathe again. “Yes. Yes. Alright. We’re safe.”
“That’s right. Go make yourself some tea. We’ll talk more later.”
So Aziraphale did.
~
Three days later, Crowley called Aziraphale in a panic, and asked him sharp questions—“Anyone suspicious in your area? Have you smelled sulfur anywhere? Your books are safe? Shop not burned down? Are you safe?”—until admitting that, well, he’d had a nightmare too. Aziraphale soothed him as best he could, and promised everything was alright, and Crowley calmed, mostly.
He still called periodically for the next week, just to check. Aziraphale didn’t mind. If it helped Crowley cope, that was all he needed to know.
Some restrictions were, cautiously, lifted. Aziraphale didn’t feel right swanning through the streets though, not even with a mask, so he didn’t go out. Crowley went to the park and fed the ducks, and called Aziraphale to let him know that the park was still flourishing, even without Crowley’s threats. The ducks had almost mobbed him, trying to get at the mixed seeds he had brought; of course, no one feeding them for quite a while, they were hungry. Aziraphale still snickered as Crowley complained.
There was always something to talk about, since there was now nothing to do but read and learn about the world. Aziraphale was outraged at the people who were labeling the plague as “no big deal”; Crowley just reminded him wearily that sometimes, humans didn’t need demons to be evil. Look at Caligula. They would learn.
Except they didn’t learn, so the two beings turned resolutely away from the plague. There were other, just as important things to talk about.
Anathema called Aziraphale to tell him that Newt was sick. Not covid, thank God, just a summer cold, but she was worried. Aziraphale considered, then asked her carefully, “Can you ask him if he would be willing to be on the receiving end of a miracle?”
“You’d do that for him?” Anathema asked eagerly, and Aziraphale smiled, knowing that that was exactly what she’d wanted. “Yes, I’ll go ask him right now!”
A quick miracle, putting together a basket of baked goods and jams and sending that by miracle to them as well, and Anathema called again to say happily that Newt was better already and they were grateful, and also he’d sent them enough jam over the past year, they didn’t need more.
“But jam is useful!” Aziraphale protested.
Anathema chuckled. “Yeah, but we’re just two humans, and we can’t give any of it away to the kids. Relax with the jam. Newt likes digestive biscuits, for some reason.”
“What do you like?” Aziraphale asked, curious.
A startled pause. Then she cleared her throat and said, “I really have no preference. I don’t really like sweet baked goods, anyway.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed, sensing there was more to this moment than just reluctance to accept a gift.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. Just… I don’t know.”
Aziraphale hummed in understanding, and said gently, “Let me know if you find something. In the meantime, it’s almost time for my call with Crowley.”
Anathema laughed for real. “Yes, go call your boyfriend. It’s fine.”
“He is not my boyfriend!”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Fell.”
~
It was almost August, and Aziraphale was going to explode if he didn’t leave home, so he arranged with Crowley to meet at the park.
It was a lovely day, and many people weren’t wearing masks. Aziraphale thought this rather short-sighted, and kept his on firmly, even though it made his nose itch. He tried to keep his distance, but the pavement was already too small for that.
The park was nearly empty, though, and he settled at the far end of the bench, as far as possible. After only ten minutes, Crowley sauntered down the path and sat at the other end, again slumping as if his spine was a limp noodle. It wasn’t six feet, but surely it was good enough.
“Well?” Crowley asked.
“Well, what?” Aziraphale retorted.
“Is this nice? Do you feel better?”
Sighing, the angel nodded. “I missed fresh air,” he said softly.
“Me, too,” Crowley replied.
They sat in silence, watching the ducks. It was more calming than Aziraphale had expected. Maybe he really did just need to open his windows more.
So that’s what he did. He opened his windows every day for three hours exactly, and “video-called” Crowley every other day on a set schedule, and learned how to close his eyes, listen to music, and just be. It wasn’t saving the world, and it wasn’t eradicating evil; but it was taking care of himself, so he didn’t fret himself into a breakdown, and making sure he did his part. That was important too, right?
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sammyhale · 5 years
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J2 VegasCon 2019 Main Panel
*Reminder: Full answers/more context in vids and gifs <3
J2 jump onstage as fans wave pink hearts from the crowd <3
Jensen: Whenever we come out and do one of those jumps, I always wonder if today’s the day one of us blows a hip. 
Jensen’s microphone keeps making a high pitched sound lol. 
They ask how many first-timers are there. Jensen: Okay, well, I’d like to remind you we’ve been on this show for fourteen years, doing these for thirteen and a half. Where were you??? 
Jared: We are five days into our final hiatus. Jensen: Five days into our hiatus beard!
Jensen won’t shave for a few months.
J2 whispering and Jensen cracking up :P 
Jensen reveals that Jared is wearing a party patch (they help with hangovers). Jared puts his leg on Jensen’s lap and rolls up his pant leg to show the patch lol. 
J2 gave the crew party patches at the s14 wrap party.  
Fan asks if they believe in the supernatural in real-life. Jensen doesn’t not believe in ghosts. First to think there’s a logical explanation. But he’s certainly open to the availability that that 1% could be supernatural. Even though he’s never experienced it in real life. 
Jensen explains the difference between unnatural and supernatural. Unnatural = Jared. Supernatural = us
Norton fixes Jared’s rolled up pants which turns a little dirty, naturally :P 
Fan: Which supporting actors have gone on that have had great careers that you’re still close with? The guest star Jared connects with the most is the girl who played Ruby in season 4 ;) Jensen says they knew Sterling K. Brown was a star when he was on spn, that the Force was strong with him. It’s no surprise he’s had the success that he’s had. Also: Well we’re close to Jeffrey Dean Morgan, even though he hasn’t really done much since spn. He’s still cool. 
J2 ran into Felicia Day yesterday and talked about her daughter aww
Jared watched “Wendigo” recently, named a couple of guest stars (assuming Alden Ehrenreich was one of them ;))
A fan apparently rushed the stage, emotional/screaming and upset about wanting an autograph. Some fans tweeted that she has autism. Fans tweeted that J2, Clif, and Creation handled the situation well. At one point J2 left the stage to help defuse the situation. When they came back out after Jared shouted out: “Our member of the family is having a hard time. We all have had hard times.” He wants us all to be kind. The boys are completely fine. (Some details)
Fan: So after the show, will you continue to shave? Boys: Up here not down there... lol
Jensen: We were talking about Jared’s Viking braids. 
Jensen teased about Jared shaving his head like Borja did yesterday for charity. They said they’d have Misha do it lol. 
Answering sincerely, they acknowledge their look will change a bit, to have their own identities. Jensen:  “Dean is the best imaginary friend I’ve ever had in my life. He’ll be a part of me for the rest of my life. But I don’t have to look like him for the rest of my life.” 
Also: “It all depends on what our wives want us to look like.” lol 
Jared wants to go bowlegged. Asks Jensen how it is, to which he replies “airy.” 
Jensen hopes their relationships with cast and crew will last a lifetime and that is what, quote, “fuels us up.”
J2 are signed to do cons past s15 and won’t end for a while :)  
What is Jared most looking forward to after the show? Getting to know our kids, our wives, and ourselves. Also not shaving! 
Jared: I’m excited to be a dad. Spend more time with the kiddos. Is also excited for the boring.  
Jensen’s never known his wife and kids without the show. It’s been a constant. It’s going to be interesting to see where life goes. He’s excited for the opportunity to spend more time with his kids, wife, and friends. To not get on an airplane.
Jensen: I'm looking forward to but have been happy to have professional opportunities go by these past 14 years in order to tell this story. 
Has anything impacted you (professionally) like SPN has impacted us? Jared says he isn’t sure. Even when “off” we can’t remove our “wigs” like Borja (lol) We’re still working! Always!
Jensen said he and Misha will need vocal therapy after the show to get their voices back to normal. Jensen: I tried to emulate JDM as Dean’s father by speaking with this gravelly voice. I didn’t know I’d been doing this for 15 seasons. I’m a lot older than he was when he played my dad. Jared: Yeah, no kidding!! 
Fan: How do demons deposit sulfur? Jensen: *runs around the stage, making farting noises*
What’s on their bucket lists? And the weirdest thing on there? The fan has an accent that J2 both attempt. Jared says (about the accent): “It’s beautiful and I’m jealous of people who speak better than me, which is everyone.”
We have learned Jared doesn’t have a bucket list. Then he says he would love to go on a helicopter ride. He’s never done it before and it’s the small things. Jensen is unimpressed.
Jared: “What I meant to say was...have a...pet...koala...bear...” Jensen: JUST STOP.
Jensen says, “I want to watch my children grow up.”  
Jared says he can watch his children grow up from the helicopter. Jensen quips, “That’s called helicopter parenting.” 
Jared shakes the fan’s hand and asks where her accent is from, repeating that it’s beautiful. She says, “Yorkshire.” He goes, “no YOU’RE sure.” LOL 
The dad jokes are strong today.
For the final season, this is the first year J2 have said to the writers and producers that they would like to be part of the creative process in the direction and the story of s15. J2 have been invited to the storyboarding with the creators in LA for the final season and definitely want to give their input. They don’t know if they’ll listen, and J2 are prepared for that, but nobody’s lived with Sam and Dean longer than they have. They would love to give input that the show and characters deserve. <3
Jensen: “No one knows these characters more than Jared and I.”
Jared: As a fan of the show, I'd like to offer my input.    
Jensen says they watch the episodes in order to give themselves critical feedback. They don’t read comments on social media re: feedback. 
It’s hard for them to watch themselves as just an audience. Including other TV shows like GOT and This Is Us. 
J2 both loved “Death's Door” then realized we weren't in it much. Jensen: Are we weighing it down? Jared: We're critical of ourselves
Fan: Jensen, you were amazing last night [at the concert]. Jared: Oh, if you think he was amazing last night... :P
Fan asks if Jensen really played piano on Dark Angel and any memories from the show?  It was a little of both Jensen and a pro (close-ups are not him playing). It was a VERY difficult song to learn how to play, Chopin he thinks. He has to think hard to dig up funny stories.
When Jessica Alba gets in the boxing ring (with him) she lined up the punch and hit him RIGHT in the nose. (One of the MANY reasons it’s “so jacked up”) He was too young to say “cut! That hurt!” Realizes he doesn’t do that now, either lol.
Another episode he gets slapped, but the actress wasn’t getting the timing for the fake slap right. She was petite so he assumed it wouldn’t be too bad... But he had a WELT on his face. Whole crew went “oof.”
“Scoobynatural” question for the final scene, how many takes? A small crowd had gathered outside across the street. They’re 20 yards away and can’t hear the regular dialogue. But Jensen knew they would get that last line, and he was embarrassed to say the line because those people wouldn’t know the context. 
Jared: They’re so old they’re animating themselves to be on camera! lol
A fan said she lost her favorite beanie in the Bellagio fountain and was asking on recommendations to get a new one. 
Jared gave his beanie to the fan aww. Then Jensen told Jared that he lost his favorite watch, and Jared immediately took off his watch and gave it to Jensen. Jensen cuddles Jared. Jared then tells Jensen he lost his favorite pair of underwear LOL 
Last question: Fan wants to know where Jensen and Jared went during the “French Mistake” episode.  Jensen says they were at a con. Jared says VegasCon! Or maybe it was Balthazar. But Jensen prefers to think they just didn’t show up for work because “they’re asshole actors.” 
Hugs, standing ovation for the boys, J2 give each other and the fans some love before taking off :) (photo credit: x)
Tumblr media
Info via: Fangasm, Sarah,  #spnlv, #spnvegas
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Cold and Broken Hallelujah (chapter 1)
Link to chapter 2, chapter 3
My first foray into Good Omens fanfic writing. (Quite a bit nervous starting this in a new fandom, and fingers crossed I don’t get chased out of here with a broom). *Takes a deep breath* Here we go:
________________________________________________
Chapter 1
 They let their guard down.
 Three years had passed since the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t, the Apocalypse they helped prevent.  Three years since their narrow escape from the clutches of Heaven and Hell, avoiding torturous deaths at the hands of their respective employers thanks to one of Agnes Nutter’s eerily accurate prophecies.  
And over those three years, he and Aziraphale managed to grow much closer to each other than in all the millennia that came before them.  The stress of nearly losing one another in the end-of-the-world maelstrom couldn’t help but lead to certain revelations, and for Crowley, at least, it was the realization that living in a world without his angel was no living at all, that an eternity spent in the sulfur pits of Hell was preferable to spending even a day on Earth with the knowledge that he would never see Aziraphale again.
 He loved his angel. Loved him with every cursed, miserable particle of his being.  And he was done trying to deny that to either the angel or himself.
 So he told him.  That same day after the Ritz, as they strolled side by side down their favorite alley along the pond in St James’s Park.
 To his enormous surprise (and relief), the angel didn’t reject him, didn’t shoot him down with a politely dismissive, “you’re a demon, Crowley, you can’t possibly know what love is.”  Instead, Aziraphale turned toward him, those beautiful blue eyes swimming with tears, and told him in a trembling, quiet voice that he felt the same, had felt the same for centuries, in fact, and that he was sorry, so, so sorry for not saying anything sooner, for being a coward, for pushing Crowley away with such cruel, needless words, for…
 Crowley didn’t let him finish.  Surged forward, hands grasping the angel’s tear-stained cheeks with all the roughness, all the desperation of a drowning man.  And he kissed him.
 And almost lost what little was left of his hold on reality when he felt the angel kissing him back.
 That day whatever barriers that were left between them had shattered and crumbled away into nothingness. They became more than an angel and a demon, more than reluctant colleagues, more than unlikely friends. They became one.
 They left London. Moved into a small cottage on the outskirts of Tadfield; a cozy turn-of-the-century place with room enough to house all of Aziraphale’s books and a quaint little garden outside for Crowley to terrify into a verdant paradise.
 It was just the two of them. It was peaceful.  It was quiet.  It was perfect.
 They should have known it wouldn’t last.  Crowley should have known.  Should’ve been prepared for it.  Should’ve protected their little newfound paradise somehow.
 He failed.
 ***
 It’s late in the evening when it happens. They are in the sitting room, snuggled together on the dark leather couch, Aziraphale dozing on Crowley’s shoulder, a book he’s been reading lying forgotten on his lap.  Crowley, with his arm draped around the angel’s shoulders, is fighting the pull of sleep, wanting to savor the familiar warm comfort of his lover’s relaxed, sleep-heavy weight against his side.   It’s a near-impossible task, his eyes sliding closed on their own accord even as he struggles to force them open again.  The battle is useless, he knows – another moment, and he will succumb same as his mate.  Yet, still, he resists.
 It is the only reason why he gets to be awake to witness the exact moment when their idyllic existence comes to an end.
 There’s a flash of light – blinding and inexplicably painful and sudden.  Too sudden – a mere pinprick of warning, a chill across his skin is all the warning he gets.  
And then… nothing.
 ***
He wakes abruptly – a sharp lurch of one fighting his way to the surface, sputtering and gasping as he comes up for air.
Instinctively, he jerks forward and gasps again, in pain this time, as red-hot fire lances through his wrists.  His eyes fly open, gaze snapping to the side, to where his right hand lays flat against the wall, pinned there by a golden chain that sends spikes of agony through his wrist every time he so much as shifts.  A quick glance at his left wrist reveals the same.  He’s stuck, shackled against his own living room wall with a pair of holy chains, his arms spread out to the sides in some twisted parody of the crucifixion of Christ.  (And, oh, when he gets out of this, he’s gonna rip whatever sick angel that’s responsible for this to shreds; pluck the little bastard’s feathers right off.)
 Speaking of angels….
 He looks out into the room, frantic gaze sweeping across the night-darkened space, and feels his heart stutter in worry as he spots his angel’s crumpled form on the floor beside the couch, dwarfed by three archangels that stand in a half-circle around him. Gabriel, Sandalphone and Uriel.  The three that were present at that mockery of a trial that Crowley got to live through as Aziraphale.  The three that wanted Aziraphale dead.
  Aziraphale’s face is turned away from him, and all Crowley can see is a tangled mass of blond locks.  The angel isn’t moving.
 Unconscious, Crowley thinks.  Then begs, please, please, please, dear G… S… somebody, let him be unconscious.
 “Do you think it worked?” Sandalphon nods disdainfully at the motionless figure.
 Beside him Gabriel shrugs, unconcerned.  “Only one way to find out,” he says, motioning to the third archangel, Uriel. “Wake him up.”  
  Uriel inclines his head obediently, places the tip of a glowing staff against Aziraphale’s temple, and steps back instantly as Aziraphale’s whole body shudders violently in response.
 Crowley jerks forward at the display, hissing when the chains remind him viciously of his predicament; snarls in protest.  Across the room Gabriel turns his head toward him, an unkind, predatory smirk twisting his lips.
 “Awake, I see,” he acknowledges in a near-purr of satisfaction.  “Just in time, too.”  
 There’s an undertone of menace in Gabriel’s words.  Crowley ignores it.  Growls out, teeth bared, “What did you do to him?”
 Gabriel cocks his head to the side, surveying him like a bug on display.  Remarks, amused, “I would worry more about your own fate, if I were you.”  
And then he turns back to where Aziraphale is slowly pulling himself up off the floor, blinking dazedly at his surroundings.
 “Principality Aziraphale,” he drawls out, “nice of you to join us.”
 “Archangel.” The acknowledgment is accompanied by a submissive bow.
 “Do you know this demon, Principality?”
 Slowly, the angel follows the direction of Gabriel’s outstretched hand, his gaze sliding carefully up Crowley’s chained form, and Crowley feels a gaping ice-cold chasm open up within his chest at the blank, indifferent look in the normally warm, sparkling blue eyes.
 “I do not.”
 Gabriel’s lips twitch in triumph.  “This demon, Crawly, tried to tempt you, Principality,” he provides, “tried to make you Fall.  Oh, but do not worry,” he adds, placing a mockingly reassuring hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder when the angel’s eyes widen in alarm at his words, “we managed to contain him before he could do any real damage.”  
 Gabriel’s gaze shifts in Crowley’s direction once again, and, oh, Crowley has never hated anyone more than he hates the archangel at this moment.  Would give his right arm to be able to wipe that gloating smirk off the bastard’s face.
 “It’s up to you now, Principality.” Gabriel’s hand squeezes Aziraphale’s shoulder, his cold, cold eyes still trained on Crowley’s.  “You know what you have to do.”
 A flaming sword materializes in the angel’s hand, and he grips the handle tightly, a look of determination sharpening his features as he takes a calm, steady step forward.
 “I do.”
______ 
 TBC
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animeartnerds-blog · 4 years
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Introduction Time!
Hello world of Tumblr. Thank you for wondering onto our humble blog. We are just here for a simple reason; that being to post our art, writings, scribbles, thoughts and ideas. These things will center about the current world of pop culture, anime, books, television and movies.
So as we get started let us introduce ourselves!
I'll start us off. I just want to begin with putting the basics:
I go by: Slowbito on most social media's, my official name is Ed or Eddward.
Here's a list of the things I've watched, *for favorites
Animes- Naruto*, Bleach*, Full Metal Alchemist*, Hellsing*, Attack on Titan, Cowboy Bebop*, Samuria Jack, Pokemon*, My Hero Acedamia*, Fairy Tale, Hunter x Hunter*, Avatar the Last Airbender*, Dragon Ball Z, Death Note, Fooley Cooley*, Inuyasha*, Sailor Moon, Black Lagoon, Black Blood Brothers, Trigun, Ghost in the Shell*, Tokyo Ghoul, Sword Art Online, xxxHolic, Wolf’s Rain*
Currently watching: Fairy Tale (restarted from beginning, trying to keep interest) and HxH (that I have almost completed and really putting off because I know it isn't complete T-T) and about to start Demon Slayer and The Rising of the Shield Hero
T.V- Shameless*, Lucifer*, Rick and Morty*, House M.D*, Disenchantment*, The Office*, The Handmaids Tale, The Walking Dead, Bojack Horseman, Big Mouth, Adventure Time*, Stranger Things*, Modern Family, American Horror Story*, The Good Place, Regular Show, The Simpsons, Family Guy*, American Dad, South Park, Bob's Burgers*, The Venture Bros, Drake and Josh*, iCarly, Victorious (though some of these are animated, I put them in this catagory because I don't think they are meant for young children)
Currently watching: Shameless, Bojack Horseman, American Horror Story, The Handmaids Tale, The Good Place
Cartoons: Spongebob*, Lilo and Stitch*,Gravity Falls, Steven Universe*, The Amazing World of Gumball, The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack, Tom and Jerry, Courage the Cowardly Dog*, Ed, Edd, and Eddy, Rugrats*, Dexter's Lab, Teen Titians*, Power Puff Girls, Cow and Chicken, Scooby Doo*, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends*, Chowder, Looney Toons*, Kim Possible*, Lizzie McGuire*, The Proud Family*, Wizards of Waverly Place, Even Steven*, Jake Long, Recess, Brandy and Mister Whiskers, Jessie, Phineas and Ferb
Currently watching: Spongebob, Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, wanting to watch We Bare Bears, Over the Garden Walls
Movies: Spirited Away*, Howl's Moving Castle (Anything Studio Ghibli) Lion King, Robin Hood, The Nightmare Before Christmas*, The Corps Bride* (Anything Tim Burton and Disney), Shrek* (Anything Dreamworks), Harry Potter*, Avengers series and indiviual movies*, Forrest Gump, E.T, The Hobbit* (animated and live action), Shawshank Redemption, Slingblade*, Back to the Future*, Jurassic Park*, The Wizard of Oz, Rocky series, Terminator series, 50 First Dates, Marley and Me, Grown Ups, 300, American Pie, Matrix*, Hellboy series*, Toy Story's (Anything Pixar), Avatar, Men In Black, Joker*, Dark Night/Batman series, Fast and Furious
So basically I've seen a good mix of things. I love animated things, anything that is funny, stupid, or has a good story. I grew up on Disney, Cartoon Network (Adult Swim), and Nickelodeon. I didn't have cable so a lot of what I watched was on the weekends at my nana's or when we would record tapes and brought them home. We owned so many movies, and honestly I'll never grow up so anything meant for kids, I probably have seen or currently watch. If it's even somewhat popular or trendy then I try it out and see if I like it. Even with some of these I watched I didn't like them all (I know, shame on me).
I'll give you the basics of me, as best I can. I am opinionated, but not really into politics. I never really grew out of my childhood, I am easily entertained, meme's are a simple joy of mine, and I love to watch old vines. I was introduced to YouTube by Oni, and she started me off with the best: NigaHiga, = 3 (Ray William Johnson), Anna Akana, and eventually Markiplier, and so on I grew my own likes; VizziePop, Collegehumor, Buzzfeed, Pewdiepie, Boyinaband, Prince E, TheOdd1sout, Jaiden Animation (Oni's find), FailArmy, so on and so forth. I like astrology, and my sign is Tauras. I loves food, cooking and baking is a side hobby, and I'm into all the nerdy stuff like reading, drawing, role play, and gaming.
Alright, now I will leave some links to some profiles of mine below and will leave it all to my partner!
Link for DA: Here Link for Amino profile: Here Link for Youtube: Don’t have one yet... Link for personal Tumblr: Here
~Latest Art Example~ 
*currently my digital tablet is out so this is what I have to work with*
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Sup, Tumblr. This is my intro post.
I’ll be simplifying myself to the fundamentals:
Firstly, I go by: OniBlueArt on most social media, my name bestowed to me at birth is Oni.
Here's a list of the things I've watched, *for favorites
Animes- Naruto Shippuden*, Blood+, Dragon Ball Z, Assassination Classroom, The Ancient Magus' Bride, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Appleseed, Fruit basket, FairyTail , Attack On Titan, Baccano!, Baki The Grappler, Kamisama Kiss, Black blood brothers, Black Butler, Black lagoon*, Claymore, Devil May Cry, GunGrave, Psycho-Pass, Devil Is a Part-Timer, Wolf’s Rain*, Witchblade, Trinity Blood, Vampire Knight, XXX Holic, Tokyo Ghoul, Berserker, My hero Academia*, Soul Eater, Servamp, Hellsing*, The Sheild Hero*, Vampire Slayer, Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken, Fire Force,* Hunter x Hunter*.
T.V- Lucifer*, House M.D*, The Handmaids Tale, The Walking Dead, Stranger Things*, Modern Family, The Good Place*, Veronica Mars*, Reba*, Grey’s Anatomy, Raising Hope, The resident, New Amsterdam, Fresh off the Boat, Ghost Whisperer, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Good Doctor, That 70’s Show*, Izombie, Once Upon A Time, Black Mirror, New Girl, The Ranch, Dexter, The 100, 13 Reasons why, SHerlock holmes*, YOU, ZOO.
Cartoons:  Rick and Morty* Family Guy*, American Dad, South Park, The Boondocks (P.S I just hate most cartoons/Kid Shows from Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon. Fight me)
Movies: Spirited Away*, Howl's Moving Castle (Anything Studio Ghibli, Disney, or Tim Burton , Shrek* (Anything Dreamworks), Harry Potter*, Avengers series and individual movies*, Shawshank Redemption, Jurrasic Park*, Terminator series, 50 First Dates, Ace Ventura (anything Adam Sandler or Jim carry) Marley and Me, Grown-Ups, American Pie, Matrix*, Hellboy series*, Toy Story's (Anything Pixar), Avatar, Men In Black, Joker*, Dark Night/Batman series, Fast and Furious
So I share a lot of things with my partner and some things I don’t. Everything in the lists above I generally like.
Now time to get to the basics of what makes me, me.
Here is that list of things: Oxygen 65% Carbon 18% Hydrogen 9.5% Nitrogen 3.2% Calcium 1.5% Phosphorus 1.2% Potassium 0.4 Sulfur 0.2 Sodium 0.2 Chlorine 0.2 Magnesium 0.1 Other >1%
So i hope that helped you get a better understanding of me.
Last but not least my social media handles! I hope you check my teammates as well!
Link for DA: Here
Link for: Amino Survivors Community 
Link for: Amino Art Hotel Community
~Latest Art Example~
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