You let him wonder, but you never let him sink in his teeth
No one can touch you when you move
Honeysuckle - Greyson Chance
~
Cas takes up roller skating during the summer and Deanβs brain explodes immediately upon seeing his husband dancing in skates at the park. Jack added stickers to Casβ skates - extras after he completely covered his own pair.
Do you think the granny disguises Donnie and Leo wear (at Donnieβs insistence) are more of a Them thing or do Mikey and Raph also have their own granny disguises on hand?
If itβs the former then I have to say those two are killing it, I especially love Donnieβs scarf and old fashioned binoculars, and Leoβs eye makeup and pearls.
If itβs the latter though, then we were robbed Mikey and Raph granny designs. π
do you want to see my art because my parents donβt like it very much and I need someone to enjoy what I make if you canβt tell Iβm not doing so hot
I think Crowley won't forgive me for this one, but alas. The people want what they want!
So this was all the way back in the 18th century.
Crowley and I had made our ways to a small english village for work, nothing grand, just a minor miracle and the smallest demonic intervention. You can imagine my surprise when we realised that we were staying in the same lodgings! His room, just down the hall from mine!
Anyway, I digress. After work, we would visit a local tavern to discuss how our days went and have some downtime before eventually turning in. Pretending to be human so the locals weren't startled by our staying up all night to do... well, angelic or demonic things.
It was then we had the unfortunate luck to be approached by a gang of ruffians, saying they didn't like seeing "mollie boys" in their town. I knew what they meant, of course, and thought it'd be best if we just left with a quick miracle for them to forget about us so we could leave and head back to our rooms
Crowley, of course, had other plans.
With a scrape of his chair, he stands up and glares at the human in charge. I do remember the hairs on my corporation raising as I felt the static between them. The leader cowered away rather quickly and said all this nonsense about not wanting to start any trouble.
And that's when Crowley said: "If you don't like "mollie boysss" so much, why don't you fuck off and leave us alone then?"
I'm quite certain the chap saw Crowley's eyes then. They were close enough, and the tavern was rather brightly lit...
The leader took his squadron away rather quickly after that, saying we weren't worth the trouble after all.
Crowley was loathe to be praised about it. And I thought that would be the only instance we'd see of their horrendous manner.
But no. Now, this is where Crowley's acts of kindness come in.
On our way back to our lodgings, we saw that same gang again. Only this time, they were stalking some poor fellow off behind a house. At first, I thought perhaps we ought not get involved, free will, and all of that, and humans will do what they want outside of our gaze. But then they started chasing the poor boy!
Convinced they were not only going to bark, but bite the stranger we followed after them. Before they managed to hurt him, we stopped them all in time, frozen while we discussed what to do.
Now. This village was rather close to a bog. Not too deep, but it was deep enough that one would have a somewhat hard time getting out.
Crowley had suggested we send them there. Stuck and waist deep in muck, having to wait till someone passes by on the road to help them out.
I thought perhaps that was going easy on them.
In my... annoyance I commanded their attentions and spoke to them with all the grace and wrath I could muster.
"This night, you have done a disservice to God. In your hatred of your fellow man, you have forgotten to love him as your neighbour. To hate man is to hate God. You will think about this and you will weep. Till you can't anymore, and your eyes will sting with the pain that your hatred caused. Only when you repent will you be free of this misery. Only then, perhaps, God will accept you into their kingdom once more."
Really, it was an unnecessarily long speech. But I cannot help but monologue.
I sent them away with a miracle, their eyes already shedding tears when they saw my true form. Regrettably, I was so upset it had come out on its own.
Meanwhile, with the grace of... someone. Crowley woke up the human that had been targeted by the gang. Poor thing had been startled by the disappearance of the other humans, and Crowley had to make him calm with a soothing miracle.
It did help. The way he spoke to the fellow, whose name was Thomas, you'd have thought he was an angel.
We figured out where the poor thing lived, and we walked him home, learned about his life and his family.
Thomas was the sole carer of his elderly father, who can no longer walk or really take care of himself as he used to. His sister had skipped town to avoid the responsibility of it and had told Thomas their father hadn't deserved it. But the boy had only love in his heart, and we could see he had a difficult relationship with him. Of course, when humans are this sad about things, they tend to seek joy to make up for it. This is when he met Ben. It turns out he had been caught by the gang before, when he had been kissing Ben behind the stables just outside of town.
Of course, we pitied him, and Crowley, lovely demon that he is, gave him a rather hefty amount of money and told him to leave town one day. When he was ready to and when his father had passed on. There are places that are safe. They just need to be found.
I don't think Crowley was expecting the hug.
Needless to say, that was one of the many times Crowley's shown kindness to someone other than me. He likes to say he isn't, but don't let him fool you.
Sending you all the love today Elliot <3 if you need anything this small corner of the internet is here for youπ
Thomas PLEASE ignore that Iβm answering this a month later but itβs been a tough day and seeing this ask in my inbox made me smile so I had to post it. Love and appreciate you β¨
BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people you adore! Absolutely no pressure but. It's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out <3
FIFTH! Or is it sixth? I DONβT KNOW! THANK YOU, PELE!
{ β‘ } βββ The endearment in the sweet nickname & how softly he had kissed her lips would deem her entirely silent. It was the tenderness of his hold & concerns, it was the sweetness & care poured upon her broken, powerless, form. The words calling upon her beauty, albeit if at first she had jested to lighten the mood & perhaps bait a compliment or two to feed her ego, had now moved her heart upon the sincerity in his voice. β& with every brush of his thumbs, it would be as if calling forth crimson & life to her otherwise sickly visageβ¦ & it wasnβt caused by no magic more than the one bonding their beating hearts together through centuries.
The audacity~
βYou truly look at me with Cupidβs Arrow painfully piercing through you, donβt you, Mon Amour?β Her tired voice would joke, yet find delight in the comforting & intimate gestures.
She had to consciously refrain herself from following more into his caresses & let go an undignified capricious plea out of her when his hands would move away from her face, yet immediately soothed by the contact remaining across on her arms. Albeit it made her flinch at the wounds & marks, as the poison in her body would reject any attempt to heal the damaged flesh, instead taking & drinking more & more as a greedy creatureβ¦
After all, her own nature perhaps would even play against his attempts, making it a little more difficult as an unexpected counter attack, especially when on normal occasions in the past, when petricide wasnβt in the equations, her silhouette would follow through his own instruction & ministrations, guiding it back into health with no single delayβ¦
Perhaps, simply this occasion was trickier:
A Mortal Body would form out of flesh by itself first, & blessed with sorcery afterwards; siphoning sorcery out of it would not diminish the bodyβs capability nor alter its stabilityβ¦. But, a Nymph was Wild Magic on her own first, given a vessel of flesh by Nature itself afterwards & held together at its own seams by fine threads of golden power. It was less stable to heal on its very own without power flowing freelyβ¦ & the petricide would make it far harder to resew the lose strings that would never deny him at other times.
Yet Emilia couldnβt help but appreciate her belovedβs attempts, noticing how his eyes would change shades to deep crimson, provoking a little pitiful & ashamed smile. βIt's fineβ¦β It wasnβt, but she would whisper regardless, almost melancholic, saccharine & condescending. A hand reaching up to touch his cheek ever-so gently. ββ¦ Thereβs no need for you to force it, Vovachka, I wouldnβt wish you to fall due exhaustion, & have us both bed-ridden.β
In contrast, however, the following mentions made her almost unladylike snort along her low chuckles. βYour sweet puppies are amazing guardians, & their hard-work is ever appreciated.β Fortunately for them, as she was lacking her magic meant no sudden bowties, top hats or waistcoats on the Drakehounds for once. Simply nodding at the expectations of his servitude fluttering around her upon calling was, more disliked in the reminder of her weakness even if it was an act of care. Centuries accustomed to be self-sufficient to be almost bed-ridden was going to need customary adjustmentβ
Her eyes suddenly opened in genuine wonder, albeit the glow of molten-gold was subdued to a darker hue, there was a hint of ever-vivacious attitude swirling underneath. Humming in contemplation, & her tone becoming a bit playful βYou are still awfully assertive lately, that almost sounded as when I wasnβt allowed into the royal gardensβ fully by myself without a chaperonβ¦. & a sweet Prince may offer himself to guide me, even if there would always be someone lurking regardless.β In her mind, the memory was clear & bright as if it had been yesterday, it was went their little attempts of secrecy written upon paper strips had started, or when she had picked upon the oddities of fan language from the aristocrats to convey messages to him too.
βBut do not fret, dearest Dragon, I wonβt stray too far from your Castleβs towerβ,β¦ I doubt for now I would be able to give a couple of steps even if I wanted to, before August or Carmine would alert you on something being wrong, or your dedicated servitude noticing the stumbling Matron on the halls... or you feeling it by yourself in that regard.β Her fingers would carefully move inside the collar of her silk dress to take out & look upon a heart-shaped pendant. Crimson blood flowing through clear crystal, silver wrapping around it as veins, one could almost swear it was about to beat ever-so softlyβ...
" βIs that how you knew I was hurt & needed help? Your Gifts?" She wondered as sinking a little more into the comforting pillows, trying to deny the way her body was aching. Tensed muscle, tired bones, heavy as a doll without strings. It was ridiculous, yet she stubbornly attempted to not show too much of it & pretend it wasnβt noticeable if keeping a caring eye. Despite being a deceiver & illusionist to many, a master of masking her true reactions & intentions to others, Vladimir had always come to be the one she didnβt feel the need to pretend or hideβ¦
β¦ defeated, she had come to that conclusion long ago: he would know either way what lay beneath, wouldnβt he?
Pokemon! I was obsessed with pokemon and wanted to write my own characters going on their adventures (and it was going to be 4 best friends who learned to navigate the world and do the things they loved). And then at around 13, I got into writing a lot more consistently some self-insert PJO fanfiction and I would like to never, ever read another piece of that dark time
π₯-> you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?
@rainbowrider1290 please hire Mr. Wright to defend me, I swear it wasn't me
π₯-> name on internet reference that will always make you laugh
I suddenly don't know what an internet reference is. What is the internet? (Jared 19. The answer is Jared 19.)
π¦΄-> Is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?
There's actually a lot! I can say that Rick Riordan really shaped my writing style, though the resemblance has faded over the years since I really developed my own style, but at the beginning, I really tried to emulate his style (the slightly sarcastic main narration voice, a little bit cheeky at times type of writing).
More recently, I'd say Song of Achilles really inspired the way I write. I've started writing in a more poetic way, with prettier turn of phrases. I really loved how beautiful M. Miller's writing is, and I would almost study the beautiful sentences I fell in love with from SoA, so I'd say that really inspired my writing!
Otherwise, again recently, in a more broad way, Jorge Rivera-Herrans' Epic the Musical has really inspired my writing, but in the way that it sparks ideas in my mind and I just need to put those ideas onto paper (and I guess by that standard, most Taylor Swift songs have played a similar role)