PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
i don't do bad sauce passes
JBB: An Artblog!
Claire Keane
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Game of Thrones Daily
styofa doing anything
No title available
$LAYYYTER
★
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
noise dept.
almost home
Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor
todays bird
dirt enthusiast
🪼
cherry valley forever
seen from Oman
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
@evilbemygood
Back in Black || OPEN ||
"Ah, I see. I haven’t traveled much besides between here and back home."
"You should. You never know what you'll find." He smiled, a charming thing that set his eyes twinkling. "I'm Dixon, by the way," he said, extending his hand.
Little Monsters (Bby Paxton/Seere and Dixon AU)
Both little demons glanced up at Dixon for a moment before darting away from him, vanishing in the clothes that hung around them. Unfortunately they were both a bit too short to reach the clothes properly and had to look up at the items that caught their attention, wide blue eyes taking in the bright colors and pictures.
"I want that." Paxton bounced in place, pointing at tiny black suit. "Can I get that?" He spun around, looking over at Dixon hopefully, bouncing a little as he did.
"I have found some shirts…" Seere peaked out from some another clothes rack, blinking towards Dixon and Paxton.
"Of course," Dixon said, chuckling as he pulled down the suit in a size he thought would fit Paxton and handing it to the boy. He strolled over to Seere, grinning down at him. "Show me, my prince, and I shall fetch them for thee," he said, winking. He picked up a few other things he thought the boys might like, jeans and stylish shirts, and held them up for their approval.
Aren't You a Handsome Devil (Dixon/Paxton LOLOL WHAT AM I DOING)
A low whine escaped him when Dixon moved away and Paxton’s hips lifted slightly in response to the loss of contact. Stomach muscles fluttered momentarily as he stared up at Dixon, lips parted slightly before rolling it over and pushing himself up.
"Dixon… Please-" The words came out in a quiet moan as he spread his knees further apart, grinding back against the other demon invitingly. "I need it…"
He grinned, liking the way the other demon obeyed so readily. He smoothed a hand down the other's back, rolling his hips against his ass teasingly. Fingers dug into Paxton's skin as he spread him open, his tip sliding over the other's entrance, testing the slickness. Slowly, he guided himself in, the tight heat welcoming his cock. He made a noise low in his throat, one hand gripping Paxton's hip, and he leaned forward to fist the demon's hair, pulling his head back.
"Do you enjoy this?" he asked, suddenly slamming hard into Paxton. "Do you like a bit of roughness?"
New Faces
"Like you haven’t kept secrets from her." Sean’s eyes flashed as he glared at Dixon. "Don’t even pull that bull on me. You didn’t tell her what you were, or about my soul brand. So don’t you dare go for the fucking high horse routine."
"I wouldn’t be on my own. Nathan would be with me. We have the bullets, and the knives. We can hold our own."
"I'm not the one she loves," he snarled, his emotions flaring before he could get them under control. Blackened amber rolled over his eyes, and for a moment he looked like a wounded animal--vulnerable, and ever so dangerous. But then the mask was back in place, and he chuckled. "Far be it from me to get self-righteous. You have that market cornered."
He rolled his eyes at Sean's version of a plan. "One day, Sean Callahan, a demon is going to turn your skin into a throw rug. You think you and your brother with your little Order trinkets can take on a nest? Did you take one too many head injuries in Afghanistan?"
Shackled (Mike/Dixon)
evilbemygood:
Mike peered up nervously at his master as he spoke squirming inside as he spoke of his needs. A time ago he had wanted a master but like this? No, he did not want his soul owned by another man. He opened his mouth to reply when the other placed his hand on his shoulder. In a flash they teleported and Mike felt his stomach turn not use to the feeling. He stumbled a little away and used one of the walls for support a little too dizzy to fully take in the luxurious surroundings of the new place he supposed he would now be calling home. Prison would be more precise technically but he doubt his new master would be happy with him calling it that.
He looked up as the other snapped his fingers and watched a male human appear the thick scent of his blood making his fangs sharper. Mike found it ever so hard to hold himself back from tackling the man to the ground and draining him dry. He looked to his master paling even more than he was already as he gave him permission to kill the mortal. He shook his head. “No, I do not kill or feed from someone unwilling” he groans fighting his hunger and looking away from the mortal. He took a deep breath. “B-Besides he’s not my blood type. I hate O-Negative” he muttered wincing at how he spoke of blood like fine wine.
Dixon pressed his lips into a thin line. "He will be torn apart by hellhounds at midnight. Cease with your useless sympathies." Black and amber rolled over his eyes as he grabbed Mike by the back of his neck, shoving him forward. He practically buried his face in the man's neck, his hand in a vice-like grip on the back of his neck.
"Feed."
The Way Is Closed (Dean/Angel!Dixon)
Dean was trying to figure out which can of tomato sauce he was going to buy when some weirdo came up and stood right in his personal space. He looked up over, taking a slight step away to put more space between them, frowning.
From what he could figure out, Dean had never seen this guy before. He’d never done a job for him, never run a scam over him- never even seen anyone like him in his whole life of crossing the nation. Nothing. So why the hell did this guy know his name?
"I think you got the wrong guy, buddy. Try the drunk down the street."
"No. You are the Righteous Man." He tilted his head, as if confused. "I have no need for the drunk down the street." He frowned, irritation flickering across this face. The human was either joking with him, or being recalcitrant, and either way, Dixon had no time for such games.
"My name is Belial. I am one of the Seven. I know you, Dean Winchester, and I need to speak with you." He held the hunter's gaze, the general in him lining every syllable of his words and every crease in his face.
"Yes I would," She shrugged and sat back. "I’m one of the understanding that most religion is misguided. Almost every race has a version of the same stories- creation myths and deities and the like- but it’s a necessary part of their development. What a species does with their religious stage more often than not sets them up for what kind of a race they are and what kind of a reputation they have in the galactic market."
She frowned and tapped her lips, thinking about all she’d seen of the human race and its rivals.
"Unfortunately humans are war-like and always will be to some degree."
"Perhaps that's because of who created them." Dixon shrugged, sipping at his drink. God had created angels first, and were they not war-like as well? Designed for it, even? He'd used to revile humans for it, for their pettiness, but were they really so different?
"They are capable of so much more. If they'd only get out of their own way," he said, and for a moment, the charming, snarky masked slipped. Something else peeked through--regret, compassion, disappointment.
Replies coming
((OMG I'm sorry I've been a terrible partner--I've been really busy the last couple weeks and Dixon's been kinda slippery, but I'm working on replies today, promise. :D))
Like this post for a starter!
((I see you all there, following me. Let's do some things! Like RP!))
Little Monsters (Bby Paxton/Seere and Dixon AU)
Paxton blinked up at the woman, before dramatically hiding his face in Dixon’s leg and peeking out with a tiny grin. Seere on the other hand stared solemnly, chewing absently on the sleeve of the shirt he wore.
"I want a dinosaur on my shirt. Can I have a dinosaur?" Paxton popped his head out, looking up at the adults with wide and hopeful eyes, ignoring the little grunt from Seere as he spoke.
He put a hand on each of the boys' back, something old and powerful stirring in his chest as he glanced between them and the saleswoman. "I think we can manage that--please show us your finest dinosaurs, madam."
The woman smiled indulgently and motioned for them to follow her to the back of the store. They did indeed have shirts with dinosaurs--and robots, and planes, and various other animals and creatures. Rugged cargo pants and jeans, as well as pint-size suits hung amongst the t-shirts and button-ups.
"Well, my princes. What shall it be? Take your pick," he said, gesturing to the clothing in front of them.
The Way Is Closed (Dean/Angel!Dixon)
It was Dean’s turn to go onto a supply run. Well, that was wrong- that made it sound like he let other people leave the bunker to get supplies. Truth be told, he didn’t think Cas or Sam was up to it. Sam would pass out in the store, or just return with a shit ton of health food. And Cas… he would be lucky if Cas returned with food and not a bunch of cats.
The last thing the bunker needed was cats.
So Dean was the one who drove into town, Impala rumbling to a stop in front of the grocery store. He’d scribbled down a list, including things that Sam and Cas said they wanted to eat. Sighing as he walked into the store, Dean grabbed a cart and started wheeling down the aisle.
It was like following a feeling--the mark of the Righteous Man's soul still stood out, and, like a hound scenting the air, Dixon could follow the peculiar notion of it. He found him in a grocery store, and the whole scene was almost absurdly banal to him. One of the men who unwrote holy providence, strolling along with a cart and picking up cans of prepackaged food.
He approached him cautiously from the side, his upright, almost rigid posture still marking him as the general he was but otherwise appearing as non-threatening as possible.
"Dean Winchester," he said quietly, stormy blue eyes looking him over. "I have need to speak with you."
Shackled (Mike/Dixon)
Mike watched the bidding his eyes flicking from demon, vampire, witch, warlock. They were all there trying to win his as a slave or even possibly as a feed. He swallowed the lump in his throat and watched as the bidding finally ended with a demon. He felt his heart drop pleading that the demon did not recide down here in Hell meaning he’d never go back to his earthen home. His eyes followed his new master up to the auction man as he was dragged off the stage to wait for him. He watched the money be handed over and his heart sunk.
His eyes went to the ground finding the fear rattling to him. He may have been a vampire but it didn’t change who he was inside and this whole process was scaring Mike senseless. His buyer came over and began strolling around him evaluating him like some piece of meat making him shift on the spot nervously. Mike looked up at the other as he halted in front of him and spoke. For a few moments Mike just watched him. “Fed properly? I can’t remember” he whispered his voice scratching. “And my name is Mike…. Sir…”
"Very well. First things first, Mike. You will feed. I require you to have your strength and stamina about you." His voice was firm but not harsh, the voice of a commander and one used to having his orders followed without question. "I have certain needs. Fulfill them, and life shall not be so bad for you. Do you understand?"
Without waiting for a response--because it didn't really matter if he understood or not--Dixon placed a hand on the vampire's arm, and in a flash, they were gone. The smell of sulfur carried them to a poshly appointed house set in a thick wooded lot, all dark hardwoods and glass and steel. Dixon snapped his fingers and a young man appeared, his eyes wide with fear but otherwise immobile.
"Feed," he said, waving a hand at the man. "Have no care for his life. His contract is up." Once the vampire was properly rejuvenated, he would begin the process of testing his obedience. It was of no use until Dixon could probably gauge how much Mike could take.
"Anything that’s exciting," She thought for a moment before smirking. "Maybe tell me about those differences if that’s an interesting story."
He gave her an enigmatic smile, leaning back against the bar and sipping his drink. What a question--so many ways to answer it.
"You know the story of the creation, right? In the beginning, God said let there be light, et cetera et cetera. It's a good story. But then man took it and created religion--a backward, self-serving interpretation of God's will. Man is selfish, short-sighted, bigoted. Killing each other over bits of metal and dirt. That was never God's plan."
He took another drink, eying her over the glass. "Would you believe me if I told you that I know the truth--that I know how it all began, and this--what man has created--it couldn't be farther from divine inspiration."
Back in Black || OPEN ||
Dimmock nodded. “I’ve got a few friends like that. Were you in the military or one of your parents?”
"Oh, I come from a big military family. We all served." An amused grin played around his lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke. "I'm out now, but I still like to travel. It's a large, lovely world--so much to see."
((Aaaand i’m out for a riverboat cruise. I’ll be back later tonight. LOVE YOU ALL))
Back in Black || OPEN ||
River nodded, though her eyes avoided him as she drank. The back of her hand wiped the milk from her upper lip, the glass making a small thunk as it was once again placed on the counter. “No reason to. I’m not a threat. You’re not like the others.”
"Clever girl," he said, nodding approvingly. "Indeed I'm not. But I wonder just how much you can tell. Penny for the thoughts in that lovely head of yours?" He glanced at the glass of milk she was drinking. "Or perhaps a sweet something--a cake or pastry?"
New Faces
"That’s because Rachel doesn’t know." he said, toying with the ring on his finger. His eyes were fixed on the silver band. "We’re doing a mass grab and tag. So we can track them to their lair and exterminate."
"Keeping secrets. You know, Dr. Phil says that honest communication is the key to a healthy relationship," he mocked, donning a look of faux concern. He knew it was childish to provoke the hunter, but he couldn't help it. Rachel was dear to him.
"You want to invade a demon's nest. On your own. Have you considered alternatives--like, perhaps, seppuku? It will likely be less dangerous," he said, snorting.
