angelsencyclopedia-blog
barely there
My name is Grace, and I'm an angel of the Lord, under orders to record everything that has ever happened in the history of the world. ~Indie angel OC~ {[Multi-fandom, Multi-ship, Multi-verse]}
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hey guys
been a while
i don’t really plan on resurrecting this blog (maybe that’s an spn joke, who knows), but i do miss this muse sometimes, and i especially miss my partners. it looks like im not the only one that fell off the grid, but if any of you guys are still out there, i hope you’re doing well, and i will always always treasure our threads. i won’t be archiving or deleting this blog, for nostalgia’s sake, and so both i and any previous partners can read old threads if they like.
i might even pick up a thread or two, but i wouldn’t hold me to that.
there’s a lot of other stuff i could say, but i won’t clog up anyone’s dash more than i need to, so message me if you wanna catch up or anything :)
i hope everyone has stayed safe will all that’s gone on as of late
much love xx
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deandrowningdemons:
Dean shook his head. “It’s okay, Grace.” He told her when she apologized. “I’m fine. Really.” He tried to reassure her. “I’ve been through worse. It’s just a scratch.” He lied. His head was pounding and he could feel the blood running down his face but he did as much as he could to try and reassure her that he was alright.
Dean’s head was still pounding but the wounds and bruises were gone as he hand fell from his face.
Dean moved his gaze across her looking her over. He could see the panicked look in her eyes as he moved towards her once again. Dean lightly grabbed her forearm. “Please don’t go, Angel.” He pleaded, as if he knew what she was thinking.
Grace focused on the hand on her arm, stock still under the touch. This wasn’t the first time Dean had been injured for her sake, and no matter how much her companion would deny it, they both knew it wouldn’t be the last.
“And what happens if I stay?” her eyes lifted to Dean’s, voice surprisingly neutral despite her conflicting emotions.
How frequently they’d been in this position-- realizing the danger of their relationship, finally deciding to make that leap and just cut things off... Only to wind up in the same place all over again. Grace was an angel, she had the patience of a saint (pun intended) and she knew she could handle it, but how much longer could her hunter last like this?
The angel pushed open the door, noticing Dean standing with his back to her, and she took her chance to come up behind him, leveling a gun to his head and loading it, content to let him react to the click of the barrel. Her eyes were blank, unfeeling and almost disinterested. She'd disappeared a few weeks prior without a word, and now she was back, reprogrammed by Heaven and sent back down to take care of her distractions- namely Dean.
Dean was standing at the sink, in one of the many shit hole motels he’d stayed in while looking for Grace. He did everything he possibly could to find her. He even prayed to her, which he never did, but of course got no answer. This time was no different.
He reached on hand up to rub his temples as he tried to wrap his brain around what happened. She just disappeared, without a word. After everything they’d been through, she just disappeared.
Dean ran both hands through his hair resting them on top of his head as he let his head fall forward, the feeling of failure hitting him hard.
He was stuck in his own thoughts when he heard the click of a gun loading a bullet into the chamber. His body tensed at the noise as he slowly dropped his hands to his sides and turned around to face his attacker.
“Grace?” He breathed out as confusion crossed his face. angelsencyclopedia
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the incredibles; starter sentences.
“We’re dead! We’re dead! We survived but we’re dead!”
“We’ve been planning this dinner for two months!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out!”
“No? Well, he’ll look fabulous anyway.”
“That was totally wicked!”
“I’m with you - for better or worse.”
“Your identity is your most valuable possession. Protect it.”
“Ya see that? That’s the way to do it. That’s old school.”
“Coincidence? I think not!”
“That was the best vacation ever! I love our family.”
“We need to find a better outlet. A more… constructive outlet.”
“My God, you’ve gotten fat.”
“You can’t count on anyone, especially your heroes.”
“I never look back, darling! It distracts from the now.”
“Where’s my super suit?”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, _____!”
“No capes!”
“No matter how many times you save the world, it always manages to get back in jeopardy again.”
“Do you think I’m totally irresponsible?”
“You always, always say “Be true to yourself,” but you never say which part of yourself to be true to!”
“I was wrong to treat you that way. I’m sorry…”
“This is a hobo suit, darling. You can’t be seen in this. I won’t allow it.”
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the incredibles; starter sentences.
“We’re dead! We’re dead! We survived but we’re dead!”
“We’ve been planning this dinner for two months!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out!”
“No? Well, he’ll look fabulous anyway.”
“That was totally wicked!”
“I’m with you - for better or worse.”
“Your identity is your most valuable possession. Protect it.”
“Ya see that? That’s the way to do it. That’s old school.”
“Coincidence? I think not!”
“That was the best vacation ever! I love our family.”
“We need to find a better outlet. A more… constructive outlet.”
“My God, you’ve gotten fat.”
“You can’t count on anyone, especially your heroes.”
“I never look back, darling! It distracts from the now.”
“Where’s my super suit?”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, _____!”
“No capes!”
“No matter how many times you save the world, it always manages to get back in jeopardy again.”
“Do you think I’m totally irresponsible?”
“You always, always say “Be true to yourself,” but you never say which part of yourself to be true to!”
“I was wrong to treat you that way. I’m sorry…”
“This is a hobo suit, darling. You can’t be seen in this. I won’t allow it.”
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Send “Don’t touch her/him” to see my muse’s reaction to your muse defending them against a physical threat
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location: LEBANON, KANSAS
#if i ever do anything in my random appearances#let it be to influence you to follow my homie annie shes rad#and a really amazing writer#promos
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Oh man I'm having rp nostalgia over a bunch of old threads and my old Sam and dean blogs
#hellfirebrothers and I don't remember how it was configured but sams-nothome#and old threads with perditioner and deandrowningdemons and godswaywardson#boy I cry#i miss what spn and doing used to be#it's been a while#{;; graceless}
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Local skunk boy gains a stripe, more at 11
#it's technically munday now#so happy munday!#have a selfie from my personal/other blog#missed u peeps
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*basically rises from the dead* Hey everyone! Gosh it's been eons since I've been on here, I've been crazy busy (what else is new) but I'm thinking that maybe sometime soon I'll work on a few replies, tumblr layout permitting. I hope everyone is doing well!
#I have watched none of the new spn season and idk if I even will oops#but I'm here and I've missed you guys and I've missed grace a lot and my lovely to partners#so there's that#{;; graceless}
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Grace watched the detective as she thought. It was clear that neither of them were comfortable in this situation, but both in obviously different ways.
“Beginning of the week or beginning of my sudden inclination of hurting people?” The brunette found herself asking. She knew that this would turn into a counseling appointment if she wasn’t careful-- it wouldn’t be difficult to spill her meager life story in this cement little room, especially since it seemed that someone actually wanted to know.
She should write a book.
The buzzer attached to the other door sounded as Nancy entered the tiny room, taking the seat across from Grace. Her expression showed surprisingly little emotion beyond a steady sense of determination.
“Hello, Grace. I hoped you could answer a few of my questions… clarify some things.” It wasn’t as if she had much of a choice in the matter, but Nancy saw no reason not to be civil about asking. Grace’s opportunities for common courtesy were few and far between at the moment, and the detective wanted to capitalize on that if she could. “I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
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Grace glanced over when she felt his gaze on her, and her eyes softened as he looked away. “I could say the same to you,” she replied, still watching him. Whatever waited for them at the end of this road, it wouldn’t be pretty, but if one of them was going, at least it wasn’t alone. “Think we have everything?”
"I can see your point, but I still think you're full of it."
Dean scoffed at her words. “Well, thanks. Thanks a lot.” He huffed and turned from her towards the bed where he was organizing the weapons. “You know, sometimes your opinion isn’t needed.” He snapped glancing at her over his shoulder before packing the things up in a bag. angelsencyclopedia
#grace has taken this opportunity to remind me how much she loves and misses Dean i hope you're doin well hon#i have no idea where this is going either tbh im just happy to be here#deandrowningdemons
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Grace watched on quietly as Nancy came in. Her name was Nancy, right? The brunette remembered speaking to her early in the week-- maybe not the day, but she did remember when.
The morning after Dean... disappeared. Memorable, certainly.
She watched her as she sat, shifting to sit up a little in her chair and look her straight on. The friendliness that had been between them was clearly gone, and Grace hoped she was prepared for the questions that she knew would come.
“I’ll do what I can.” Her answer was vague, intentional, and she looked down at where her hands clasped on the table.
(;; open to the verse)
She’ll admit to herself, she’d expected to receive visitors much earlier.
How many people were dead? Eight? People’s friends, family members,
and now they were dead. Her fault.
Grace expected people to be mad. The bruises on her wrists and the
matching handcuffs were testament enough to that, she supposed, but
it wasn’t until whoever ran this tiny little jailhouse announced that she
had a visitor that the concept of wrath dawned on her.
She was nervous, to say the least. Shifting in the hard chair
uncomfortably, the chains attaching her cuffs to the steel table
echoing softly in the cement room. The visitor’s room.
Now it was just a matter of waiting to see who came through the door.
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(;; open to the verse)
She’ll admit to herself, she’d expected to receive visitors much earlier.
How many people were dead? Eight? People’s friends, family members,
and now they were dead. Her fault.
Grace expected people to be mad. The bruises on her wrists and the
matching handcuffs were testament enough to that, she supposed, but
it wasn’t until whoever ran this tiny little jailhouse announced that she
had a visitor that the concept of wrath dawned on her.
She was nervous, to say the least. Shifting in the hard chair
uncomfortably, the chains attaching her cuffs to the steel table
echoing softly in the cement room. The visitor’s room.
Now it was just a matter of waiting to see who came through the door.
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Hey guys, you caught me! I’m open for plotting and threads and stuff, especially now that the big reveal has been made and there is still a few days left in the verse, so hmu!
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When Heaven reopened, there was chaos among the angels. Angels rebelled, desperate to stay on Earth, while others were more than happy to return to their old home. They struggled to rebuild what was lost, and needed all of the help they could get.
Grace knew she would be needed up above, and she’d need to protect the archives from wandering angels. Saying goodbye wasn’t easy, especially knowing that their chances of reuniting were slim and distant. She did all she could to provide protection for her partner, but there were no promises in anything.
All she knew was that if they did eventually reunite, they would not be the same.
Returning to Earth-- Heaven exceptionally more stable-- was odd. She was back to full power now that Heaven wasn’t sealed, and she knew it would take getting used to after how long she had gone at half-charge.
Back on the surface, she was back to filling out her old orders, documenting history, but she did have a few new tasks- like tracking down rebel angels and dealing with them.
She tracked one now-- self-proclaimed vigilante that had been hunting down those he deemed as unworthy. He was powerful, and he had been stalking someone for a while now, barely hindered by their traps.
The angel froze in her place among the bushes at the sound of a familiar voice.
There was no way.
Lost & then Found || Closed
angelsencyclopedia
Dean no longer kept track of time; whenever he thought to stop and count, he felt dread bubble up inside his throat. So instead he drifted from day to night like a wondering ghost, longing for life again. Yet regardless of how long it had been, it felt like an eternity to be wandering the earth alone.
The demon hadn’t lost his Grace, he had let her go. He remembered the last kiss they had shared, one that whispered a goodbye and prayed it wouldn’t be forever. Heaven had open it’s doors and angels surged in and out again. It was no longer safe for Dean to be with the angel, so with much pain, they had detached themselves from one another.
The demon hybrid had a few close calls, running into Grace’s brother and sisters. It was strange, to know so much about such terrifyingly beautiful creatures such as angels and yet never truly see the brutality they could inflict on their enemies. He was well aware of it now.
This cold winter’s night was one of those lethal encounters. Dean knew he was being stalked, he could sense the angel’s grace from miles away. He had done his best to cover his tracks, leaving traps in his wake, but he couldn’t shake whomever was following him. Grace had done such a great job of shielding his dark aura from angels left on Earth, but with Heaven open, heavenly power rained down on them like a thousand storms.
But it seemed no matter how careful, how quick he was, the angel grew closer and closer. Finally Dean spun on his heels, blade drawn, eyes black as pitch, and bellowed, “Alright, come out and fight. I don’t fear death.”
He held his breath as the air around him began to hum and spark. Whomever was out there–was pulsing with power.
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Grace kept herself coherent enough, settling for leaving her eyes halfway open and staring blankly at the dash. Dean’s warm hand on her ankle was a nice contrast to the gentle chill that had crept into her skin, and she found it soothing as they drove.
She wasn’t built for fighting-- she didn’t have the same ability to handle injury and blood loss as she knew the Winchesters did, she was just a normal kid. Or at least, as normal as she could be. After what happened in that alleyway, the possibility of her being a mutant was becoming more and more likely.
The brunette merely hummed in response to Dean’s words, far away as they may be.
open- any verse
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“It’s a Christmas miracle.” she jokes. It isn’t even Christmas.
angelsencyclopedia:
continued from here with perditioner
“Then I guess we should stick together, huh?”
‘ and just like that, my fear of
commitment is entirely cured. ’
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