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@babylonwhores
just logging back on to say that irl has taken me over! i’m working on an essay for university, writing a fanfiction, and working at the moment <3 sorry for abandoning this blog (everyone has been super friendly and welcoming!) but please consider leah on hiatus until further notice! if you’d like a link to my personal, please i.m. me!
sorry for the lack of things today! my motivation is non-existent
meta on phrophet!leah; what kind of visions does she get? how does she handle them mentally? 👀
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thank you for this! i love prophet!leah, honestly. she’s a sweetie. because i’m basing her on her fake portrayal in the show, her visions are very painful -- more in line with prophet!chuck’s than kevins, or, donatello’s (both who went through a lot, but i don’t remember them getting headaches the way chuck did?) leah’s visions are more like attack’s on her psyche. she often gets headaches, or sees spots of light, before having a vision. if it’s a very long or important vision, she might even collapse and have a seizure, almost like an epileptic fit, during which she’ll see and hear whatever the vision is conveying. they often leave her feeling dazed and tired, and she needs to rest after the more violent visions, because they drain her immensely. which brings to me how she deals with them mentally. prophet!leah was raised by a pastor, in a small, very religious, community. she sees her visions as a gift from god, living firmly by the belief that, yes, she’s suffering, but that’s inevitable, because she’s hearing from god himself. much like castiel’s true form burned out pamela barnes’s eyes, so too, leah considers her vision-induced headaches and seizures a necessary product of being in such close contact with the divine. she sees them as a gift. but she’s also a teenage girl and, if she was being totally honest with herself, she would have to admit that, sometimes, she wishes the lord had chosen someone else to carry this burden. sometimes, she just wants to be a normal teenage girl, and live a normal life. but she’d never dare admit this to her dad, or even out loud to herself. she would see it as blasphemy.
meta abt her thoughts on lucifer post-apocalypse? :')
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this is a really great question! honestly, leah’s very disappointed in lucifer. when she returned from the dead, she knew it was because he must have failed to bring about the apocalypse. she was furious that dean killed her, and she couldn’t be around to complete her mission, but she took some solace in the fact that lucifer would win the war against michael, and bring about the end of days. and so, when she was resurrected in hell, and she realised that wasn’t the case. she was furious. she couldn’t understand how lucifer had failed to defeat michael, how the winchesters had managed to prevent a god-planned event like the end of the world. they were just hunters. how could that have happened? it seemed impossible. it took her a long time to get over her anger, and it burned away basically any respect she had for the fallen angel. she was never a lackey, like the lower-class demons, but she used to respect lucifer’s position as a rebel, and a rallying-point for other evil creatures. now? she just thinks he’s weak for falling at the final hurdle and not getting the job done. (nobody mention the fact that she died too, and she’s kind of a hypocrite.) in an au where the apocalypse does happen, and the survivors are left to chill out in the aftermath, i can see her feelings for lucifer being very different. she’s not opposed to getting down with basically anyone with a pulse (she is the whore of babylon, after all!) and if he’s willing to go there, she’d definitely go there. that aside, i can see them being as close to friends as they’re capable of being, probably telling lame jokes, and enjoying a bit of torture and murder together.
send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on
I might write anything from a paragraph to a whopping essay, but send me something you’ve noticed about my characterisation or just something you want to know about my muse and I will write what I can!
Byzantium (2012)
ethreali:
a small part of him feels shame. he can't put the blame of his own – even if ancient – creative recklessness to the beings that had born from it. there is something different about her, something that makes him stop and reconsider the initial thought of sending her back. not only the fact that it would've been more involvement than he was doing these days. but she is an apocalypse creature. something that wouldn't sit right in the modern world if she decides to go rampant and fulfil the only purpose he'd given her all that time ago.
the corner of his lip twitches into a smile as he takes a long glance around the forest. ❝ one of my best works, ❞ there's a momentary shift in the air around them, and he turns to sit down onto a park bench. ❝ i'm more hands-off these days. unless things get like– apocalypse-level bad before they're supposed to. ❞
LEAH IS NOT LIKE SOME OF GOD’S CREATIONS, who yell at him and demand answers. why are we here? what was our purpose? if she was capable of gratitude, she’d be grateful that he made her with a sole purpose. she doesn’t have to wonder. she knows. so, until it’s time to fulfil it again (because the first apocalypse with screwed up by the winchesters) she can just live, and appreciate this world he’s created. she doesn’t hate him, or question him.
so, when he sits down, she follows him, and drops like a stone onto the bench next to him, all of her energy vanishing, and she rests her elbows on her knees and let them hang limply, like a real teenage girl would, loose and careless in her vessel. “thanks,” she replies, because she feels like he expects it, and it is a compliment. they both know what she really looks like, under this façade. he must’ve been in a twisted mood when he made her. she turns to him, actually curious. “... yeah? huh. i get that. i was that way for a few centuries.” she shrugs. “i mean, i didn’t see what all the fuss was about up here, but then the winchesters showed up and...” she trails off. “i guess you know the rest.” it’s almost easy to forget who she’s talking to -- if it weren’t for his burning, holy, presence, he’d look exactly like any other human.
tobeblamed:
he clenches his jaw at her words , upon being reminded of what he had done to her . he certainly didn’t regret it , but he absolutely regretted the fact that he had to face her afterwards . he is finally starting to understand his enemies whenever they are < surprised > or vexed upon finding out that he is back from the dead — [ just like running into someone he hadn’t seen since high school ; an unfortunate experience for everyone involved ] .
emeralds narrow their gaze in skepticism . sharp tongue quick to defy and question her claim , for his instincts refuse to GIVE IN . ‘ oh — right . if you say so … then , it must be true . ’ he’s not convinced . he’s far too smart to let his guard down .
DEAN DOESN’T BELIEVE HER. leah meets his gaze steadily, and her smile fades. it was only a facade anyway -- they both know that. she wonders, faintly, if he’s going to do something foolish, like try to kill her. she hopes not. she’s really trying to cut down on murder these days. it’s like trying a new diet. but, if dean makes her, she will defend herself. and he doesn’t have a cypress tree branch this time.
“it’s true, dean,” she says, in a flat voice. “i am not a demon. i am not a vampire.” she pauses, and knows that he needs more, so, she continues. and she’s dropped the happy-go-lucky, teen girl voice now. she doesn’t need it to convince him that she’s telling the truth. “god created me for one purpose. when everything ends, i will take as many souls with me to hell as i can.” she doesn’t blink as she looks at him. “i will ride the beast that will rise from the sea, and the beast will destroy everything in its path. that is my purpose.” he doesn’t look like the type to have done much research into the bible, so she spells it out for him. “until then? i’m not on any unholy mission. i’ve got no reason to. i don’t deserve lucifer, or crowley, or whoever’s in charge down there these days. i serve myself.”
clayformed:
queen lounges in her throne, eyes lazily scanning the room ( which currently contains a few demons ) . everyone’s at work , and on edge by her presence ─ everyone but the acquaintance lingering near her . fear has never been an element in their relationship. they have a sort of mutual understanding . respect , some may say . “ shopping ? ” an eyebrow raises, expressing judgement with only one gesture. the thought of them shopping and giggling like two teenagers ? ridiculous. “ i think you’re taking the role you’re playing a bit too SERIOUSLY , leah. ”
LEAH HAS SETTLED INTO HER NEW BODY WELL. almost better than her old one. this girl has a look about her -- a preppy, highschooler, look, and leah’s enjoying it. so, ignoring the daring glances of the few demons in their company, she smiles at lillith. “yeah,” she says, in a casual way. “shopping.” she doesn’t dare give lillith a gentle nudge. they might be acquaintances, and she isn’t afraid of the queen of hell the way her demon lackies are, but she respects lilith, and knows not to cross her.
she shrugs lazily. “maybe i am, but so what? don’t you get bored of violence all the time?” she pouts at lilith, and decides to quit it. the other woman obviously isn’t on board. “alright,” she sighs. “if we’re not going shopping, what did you have in mind?”
i’m working from home this afternoon, but i do want to get some of my replies done later!
THE LIGHT THAT BURNS TWICE AS BRIGHT, BURNS HALF AS LONG . AND YOU’VE BURNED SO VERY BRIGHTLY, HEYLEL . independent abrahamic original depiction of the devil, s*tan, the dark prince of heaven . est. 2020
maybe doing things later? i’ve got a busy afternoon! real life is always in the way
HEADCANON. leah’s true form resembles a seven foot tall skeletal woman, with her pale skin hanging off her in sheets like rags. her eyes are solid grey, similar to the high-ranking demons of hell (like lillith). it is impossible to look her directly into the face, because it’s a blur, and flickers occasionally, but what one can make out appears to be the face of an old woman, with a lined forehead, sunken cheeks, and deep-set wrinkles surrounding her eyes.
destinedgreat:
the sights. for a moment, child actually bought it, the idea that she was just visiting. not causing any trouble, just wanted to… what? enjoy a burger? go shopping? see what puppies were all about? discover youtube? listened carefully, trying to decipher. READ BETWEEN THE LINES, dean always said. but it was so difficult, when he couldn’t see the proverbial text for himself. still… maybe his skepticism was enough.
“ that’s ——– that’s it? ” a beat, surprise evident. okay, think. how do you trick a thing of hell into admitting their wrongs? she thought him the antichrist, right? he had that, like… like a cover! like spy movies! this was just that, just a spy movie. like pretending to be the fbi, and everything else, and he didn’t necessarily like it, the lies… but he could deal with it, so… so… so if he was the antichrist, and she, the whore of babylon, then… he had to play into that.
“ i’m… disappointed. ” okay, okay, he was gonna throw up. knots in his stomach, but nevertheless he persisted. c’mon, kid! all you need is a reason! just one reason. “ you’re up here, and you’re… not tempting souls? ”
“UH HUH,” LEAH REPLIES. she flashes the antichrist -- jack -- a quick smile. “that’s it.” she’s not lying. sure, she’s going on a few murder sprees with lillith, but she’s not, like, suggesting to. she just wants to keep her friend happy, and is that so bad? she’s not on some unholy mission to drag as many souls as possible to hell -- this isn’t like last time. the clock’s not ticking yet. judgement day isn’t on the horizon. why would she waste her life on earth spreading discord and lies, and trying to make people follow a false god, when it’s not the end times yet? sure, when the trumpets start sounding and seals start breaking, you can betcha she’ll be first in line to start dragging people down.
but, until then? she wants to live. so, when jack asks her if she’s tempting souls, she tilts her head to the side, and purses her lipstick-stained lips. “nope,” she says. “i did that on my last trip top-side, and it didn’t end well.” she raises a hand, and mimes something large and wooden being thrust into her chest, right where her vessel’s worthless heart is, right between her breasts. she can still remember the sheer agony of it, the pain that made her screech and unholy, ear-splitting shriek, and made her writhe and squirm on the floor. she lowers her hand, and shrugs at jack, and then, something occurs to her. “... are you?” she asks, curiously. “you’re the antichrist. they’re supposed to follow you, right, instead of j.c.?”
tobeblamed:
her voice is far too familiar , but it’s the repeated words that truly awaken a memory he thought is long forgotten . a soft sigh escapes parted lips , as it finally downs on him : she was dead — she is supposed to be , at least . ‘ leah … ’ it’s the name that he remembers first , but he realizes he is mistaken ; she is not the innocent girl that she impersonated so many years ago . she’s something else . ‘ sorry . ’ cocky smile undermines the weight in such faux apology . ‘ i meant — the whore . ’ he’s been eager to call her by her given title ever since he found out that she damned people’s souls to hell . his smile remains constant upon his lips , as if confidence is his shield , guarding him from the whore’s wrath . ‘ i see you upgraded . ’ a remark , though an implicit question lingers there .
AS SOON AS DEAN SAYS HER STOLEN NAME, leah knows what he’s going to say next. her bright, sunny, wolfish, smile doesn’t fade. she doesn’t even flinch at her true title. humans love to hiss it, love to spit it at her, like it’s an insult. harlot, whore, abomination. but they’re just names. they’re true. she’s been promiscuous, in her long, long, life, and so what? she’s got time to kill, right? might as welll spend it having fun.
“yeah,” she replies, casually, looking down at her new, older, form, and stretching her arms out at her sides, like she’s showing off a new outfit. that’s all this is to her. her true form, inside, is blurred and skeletal, all bones and white eyes and ragged, loose, skin hanging off her frame. but now, she looks just like a regular high school girl. “the old one was kind of twee,” she explains, and, for a second, her smile drops, and she meets dean’s gaze, coldly. “and you shoved a stake through its chest.” a beat passes, and she continues her explanation. “when you guys stopped the first apocalypse, i eventually came back, for whenever the next go-around happens. but don’t freak. i’m not damning anyone.”
me, seeing things escalate:
