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Bad first impressions || @oswaldfortheoswin


A pause. The general staring at the woman who did not want to give in — despite her being scared by all means. He knew that she was, the trembling notes in her voice revealed everything he needed to know, not to mention that he never had met a human before who wasn’t scared. Fear was as natural to them as to make mistakes; free will had maybe many advantages, but it was the disadvantages that let his kind always win over theirs.

He did it, because he had been told to love them. He did it, because he had been told to fight for them. But like Gabriel put it as well: sometimes one had to destroy small parts for the greater good. That Clara Oswald didn’t seem to understand that, well, he was not surprised. It annoyed him a bit, though.

"Stubbornness, ah, yes — I am quite fascinated by this human trait. I mean, we are stubborn as well if we want to be, but it is different, isn’t it? You are stubborn without making any sense, even when it means your fatal end. Angels … well … we are made for dying for one purpose. We will defend this purpose until the very end. But you — you could just work with me there, and you would be at home quicker than you could wish. Agree talking with him, this is all I want, and our men neither have to scour the world for him or for your beloved Doctor again."

He made a short pause, in which he decided to stand up. He had tried to be on her level, to talk to her. But even his patience was not infinite.

He took the two steps towards her, looking down at the helpless human. “Tell me, what is it that let you hate us so much that you even refuse to give us one chance? All I want back is my brother. All you want is that the always consistent threat that one day he will lose the fight ceases. Also, that we let you and your Doctor continue gallivanting through time and space, even when we have laws against it. A win/win situation if you comply, nothing else.”

     Fatal end. The words struck a chill through her, and she felt nausea rise up in her stomach, even as she took deep breaths to quell it. Her heart was beating hard and fast, making her dizzy as she tried to focus on his words, instead of the terror that was quickly threatening to overwhelm her. Her struggles became more desperate now, tearing at the skin on her wrists.

     She froze as he towered over her, even more intimidating than he had been. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she couldn’t help the tears that glinted in her eyes, though she refused to shed them. “Okay! Okay, I’m scared, we both know that. But if you’re going to kill me, you might as well do it now, because I’m not going to help you in this, it doesn’t matter how afraid I am. He doesn’t want you! Why do you think he’s been running for so long?!”

     She took sharp, uneven breaths, averting her gaze - it was better to look off somewhere to the side of him, rather than stare up at him towering over her. “Where’s the catch? I talk to him, and what? It’s never that simple with you!” She’d been travelling with the Doctor for too long - there was always something unrevealed, and she wouldn’t subject Gabriel to that. “So either kill me, or let me go, because we’re not getting anywhere with this.”

09-21 • 0:0215 notesnotamailman

My muse has fallen asleep on yours during a movie. How does your muse wake them?


09-20 • 23:51485 notesyesscarfgirlmemesforu

09-20 • 23:485,973 notesyesscarfgirlaskklapollo

Threats ¦ Closed ¦ notamailman


Gabriel stayed silent for some time. Just standing there in his corner of the room, he looked at his girlfriend with green eyes. There was no hint of what he was truly thinking on his face — no judgement, no relief, but also no understanding. Instead his gaze just rested on her for some seconds, the missing reaction causing an awkward silence between them.

And then, he just walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the bed besides her. Not too close, of course — he gave her as much space as possible, while still being closer to her than just seconds before. Elbows resting on his tights, he intertwined his fingers before answering her.

"It is okay", were the first words coming over his lips. His eyes stared on a point on the floor in front of his toes. "Jonathan hurt you a lot. It is normal to lose trust when someone hurt you a lot, and with that I do not mean that you just lose the trust in this one being, but in everyone."

He hesitated for a moment.

"You know … back then, me and my brother Lucifer, we were really close. He practically raised me. I adored him a lot — he was my hero. I always tried to make him proud when Father was not around, and I trusted him more than anyone else in my family. But then …", he took a breath, "well, you probably know what happened then, it is a quite famous story. He suddenly turned against us, and what was safe turned into the first battlefield in history. Suddenly I stood there and had to fight against the one I thought I always could follow, and saw him killing one brother and sister after the next. He nearly got me too, though. Someone — someone else died in my place." He stopped for some seconds, a frown on his face, as he replayed the days of the first way inside his mind. His voice carried a hint of sadness, but mostly it was very calm and collected.

"Anyway, afterwards — it took centuries to put us together again, to be honest. Maybe more, time measurement is a bit of an odd concept for me. I did not know how to ever be able to trust my other brothers again, everyone of them could have been a traitor as well, and I think the others thought of me the same. But … well, we were patient with each other. And somehow, we learned to do it again. It just took … time."

A shrug, as he ended, and for some heartbeats he was silent again. But then he turned his head to face Clara.

"What I mean to say is — I do not blame you. At all. I can understand it. Sometimes acting out because of it is very human — even very angelic. Just, well, natural. But I am patient. If you need time, I give you time. If you need assurance, I give you assurance. You just have to tell me what it is you are in need of. I promise."

     She kept her head down, eyes fixed firmly on the ground, until he finished speaking. She let a long silence stretch between them, and then slowly - slowly - lifted her chin, gaze cautiously moving up to catch his. She hadn’t expected this sort of forgiveness - after all, she had very nearly ended his years of running because she was scared - and yet, there it was, as simple as saying hello.

     ”I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, and immediately moved closer, arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her head in his chest, terrified of her own fear, of her own desperation to ensure she was safe at the cost of his. “It was selfish. I shouldn’t have - you don’t have to forgive me, I shouldn’t be. I’m just so sorry.”

     Sometimes it was so easy to forget that he was vulnerable to the same fears as herself - the lack of safety, of being caught, of being trapped - but times like this brought it to light so sharply she felt as if she could cut herself on it. “I shouldn’t have.”

     She shifted then, laying her hand along the side of his face as she pressed kisses over his jawline and to his lips, every caress an apology that she’d never be able to voice aptly. She needed some way to show her thanks, her apologies, her devotion to him. Some way to show him she’d never threaten his safety again. Some way to beg forgiveness she didn’t think she deserved, some way to promise her selfish ways would never interfere again - although she knew they would. But she didn’t know how to voice those words, those sentiments, and so she kissed him, hoping he could read her thoughts in the warmth of her soul. She needed him - she knew she did, and she was at a loss to show so. I love you.


     Nikita was uncharacteristically compliant as the human beat her to the ground. She contained groans of pain and yelps of surprise. Her skin split beneath Clara’s fists and she could taste the tang of blood welling up in her mouth until she was almost choking on it. She opened her mouth to let it dribble out of her mouth, even as he head swayed side to side with each punch. Even as her mouth opened, a quiet cry came out and she found loathing for herself. Do not show weakness, even while allowing an enemy to hurt you.

     And her assailant was suddenly gone. Her immediate reaction was to curl on her side, protecting the organs, and spit blood. It dribbled out of her mouth and onto the ground. For some blessed time, she forgot about Clara and her pain.


     Because this was nothing, nothing compared to what Eros was going to do. He wouldn’t care who Clara was. His first instinct was to protect his wife. She was going to have to restrain him from the human, protect her from her husband. It was almost funny. She could remember so many times where it seemed like Clara and Eros got along better than the cambion did. But Eros loved her for some unfathomable reason. And they both held some residual love for Clara. Nikita was going to have to protect her.

     Clara wasn’t paying any mind to Nikita’s struggle - she was too deep in grief, and in shame, and in r a g e - rage at those who had tried to hurt her, rage at those who had taken those she cared about, rage at herself for allowing them to do so - and again, to take her brother from her. Had she fought harder, had she been fasterstronger, maybe they would have kept Clark with her. Maybe they wouldn’t have been taken at all. Maybe - maybe -


    “I need him back!

     She shoved herself upright again, hands still shaking, clenching into fists. “I need him! I need Clark you have to - have to give him to me! You have to stop hurting him!” She was so utterly convinced of his torture that nothing could persuade her otherwise - she knew that if they were, Clark wouldn’t tell her in their brief moments together. “I need my brother!”


{ continued from here }


          “You’re going to tell me everything.”


"That doesn’t exactly sound like me.”

09-20 • 23:29

Put one of these in my ask box! (Kidnapped!)

  • "Where do you think you’re going?"
  • You’re not going anywhere.”
  • "You belong to me now."
  • "There, nice and tight."
  • "Shh, there’s no need to scream."
  • "There, that should keep you quiet."
  • "Why are you doing this?"
  • "Let me go!"
  • "Release me!"
  • "Help me!"
  • "Untie me!"
  • "Mmmph!"
  • "How are we suppose to get out of this?"
  • "Someone will come for me!"

Demon || Open


       A strained sigh was the only composure he allowed himself — this wasn’t the first demon he’d been up against, and certainly wouldn’t be the last. They’d pulled similar tricks on him and Sammy, sly digs used to unnerve and throw off the Winchesters, and that was the very thing he needed to avoid. So, a deep breath relieved him only mildly of the stress mounted on his shoulders, that dry sarcasm soon coming into play. Fingers drummed slowly against the handle of the blade, getting a feel for it once more as he eyed the other.

       ”Pathetic bitches? Oh, there’ve been plenty. But the most recent — I’d have t’say, it’s you.” Every move made was only a melodramatic, unrealistic version of Clara’s. Similar enough to leave him hesitating, but different enough for him to recognise it wasn’t her. “You really think I won’t do it. You think I’ll just give myself up in return for her safety? That’s bullshit. You wouldn’letter go even if I was stupid enough t’agree.” A step closer. Tiny, tentative. Testing the waters.


     ”I think loyalty is your fatal flaw, Dean Winchester,” the demon answered, unperturbed. “I think you’re a bit more predictable than you think.” Her eyes followed him as he moved closer, and she stepped to the side and away, eyes amused as she maneuvered away from the car, keeping her distance. “Ah-ah. Stay where you are, Winchester.”

      She crossed her arms, settling her weight into one hip as she looked up at him, eyes flashing ebony again. “So here’s the deal. If you want any chance that she’s ever going to live a normal life again, we’re going to get in your car, and we’re going to leave. I’m going to take your soul and body straight to Hell, love, but it’s a little bit of a ways from here. Or - or I just take her. Which, funnily enough, she still doesn’t believe will happen. So - what’s it goin’ to be, darling?”

09-20 • 23:2658 notesshatteredhunter


pain-always-hurts has set her suicide date she made a deal with me , for every note this gets she will push that date one day back , this is real she has tried before. All I ask is that you please reblog and maybe send her cute messages thank you



Well. It’s burnt. 

But I need it.

09-20 • 23:1226 notesgladiumangeli


"Goddammit, I really need to be more mindful of whatever Lover Boy has in his hands when we switch."


     She let out a muffled curse in Greek.
     ”Or, you could just, y’knownot take
      over his body?”



"Not in the slightest."


     ”Then where did that question come from?”

09-20 • 23:093 notesgladiumangeli



! ! !

❝ you know of Frozen?! 

     ”Who doesn’t?

Betrayal || Clara & Gabe


       It did not help. No matter what he said, it did not help. For some reason she did not want to let him go, and despite her saying that she knew he would not leave her, she still insisted on keeping him caged. He did not like it — not at all. Slowly understanding that discussing with his beloved Clara was for one reason or another fruitless, panic crept up inside his chest, a feeling he usually did not experience. He knew where it came from, though; Gabriel knew unlike more about his own weaknesses, fears and anxieties than he usually liked to admit. For example, he knew how afraid he was of getting restrained, of being put into a cage, of not being free. He knew what happened when someone did this to him, and sending a crazy madmen back into Hell had been the nicest reaction he had shown after such an episode. Two times in such a short time? He already felt his tongue getting dry.

       Ridiculous. He could not get a panic attack here. He was an archangel.

       “One last chance, Clara”, he said, and his voice slowly turned: it became dark, but also somehow wheezing, it was forced strength as long as he tried to be human, because fear usually meant one thing: Fight. Fight until one of them lay on the floor with an open throat.

       “I do not understand. Let go of me. Immediately. Or else everything else becomes unimportant. Do not become the enemy in my mind. You know what I did to Alain, yes? I sent him back to Hell. Back to where his father and his mother already are. I can send you to Hell as well. I will do it if you do not let immediately go of me. I do bad stuff when people hurt my wings.”

       A pause.

       “C l a r a.”

     She was in distress, her head pressed between her hands as she stared at him, her breathing jerky and uneven. Hearing him talk as he was - it was a sensation beyond fear, beyond guilt. “Please - please, Gabriel! I know you’re in pain but you have to - you have to listen.”

     Everything in her rebelled at the sight of him there, pinned helplessly to the wall by her own hands. She had seen what it had done to him before - she had risked her own life to free him of that, why had she done it now?

     And yet, even as she struggled against the sight of his pain, of his fear, of everything in him reverting into his soldier’s mindset to ward off the attack, she felt such a strong urge to keep him there - she couldn’t turn back now, he’d leave her forever, and wasn’t that the point of this?! To ensure that she would have him forever? That he wouldn’t grow bored of her and leave her for another, or for his Holy War?

     ”No, no, please, Gabriel, I can’t! You have to stay!” Tears were brimming in her eyes as her head pounded, her nature warring with her desperate fear of losing him. “Please.”


{ continued from here}


"I had a feelin’"


     ”Did ya, now?”

09-20 • 22:50