#duocorpora

[incognitomessenger]

alright but angels that fix their humans’ clothes or hair as an aproximation of grooming because humans don’t have wings

angels gently folding collars or correcting ties or pushing bangs back out of people’s faces as a sign of deep affection because they want to groom their smol humans but they can’t do it properly and it’s a source of unending frustration

[godforsakenthing-blog]

@duocorpora

“Still pissed at me?”

He flicks the door open with an idle curl of power, hip checking it closed behind him. The bag in his hand is spotted with grease, laden with burgers and fries. Dean makes the room look like any number of hotel rooms they’ve stayed in throughout their lives, the patterns of the wallpaper on the wall pulsing and changing between anchors, and ears of corn, and chevrons and faded daises. 

(Last time he showed up, Dean had blood under his fingernails, squelching in his boots. This time, he makes sure he’s scrubbed clean.)

[starlightsulu]

STARTER: @duocorpora

HE CARRIES NO SCENT, a strange emptiness that causes the beast within to stir, to murmur words in a language rare and whisper knowledge of a thing gone, a thing missing. The wolf waits, he watches with posture upright and eyes ahead at the predator who has caught his prey, eyes gold in their glow as he sees the tools of a hunter’s trade. Interesting.     

“ I could make you an offer. A good one too for your line of work. “

A pause. Brief. 

“ But first, I wanna know how you did it? ” The trap’s complex, layers beneath layers with perfection in it’s architectural design. The wolf didn’t even catch the scent of the rowan that now binds him, of the faint hint of wolfsbane that he now knows lingers in the air ( it does more than weaken and slow him, death creeping at the edges of skin, as if waiting for that opportune moment to strike ). “ How’d you find out and catch me? “

[hisfinessearchive]

@duocorpora / you absolutely did not like a single thing and yet here we are.

        He’s taller than his elder brother. What was his name again?

               ❝ Winchester two, I presume. ❞

[legatumtacet-blog]

@duocorpora

There’s no denying the fact that she stops in front of the mirror to smooth out her hair, and to straighten down her shirt before she sits down to start the video call. 

(Just like there’s no denying her relief when Sam answers in the bunker, and doesn’t swing the camera around to show Dean to her.)

“Hi Sam.”

[cruentusreus-blog]

duocorpora replied to your post: [text] best little brother EVER

worst little brother EVER

talk to the balloon, sam

[allmannerofhot-blog]

@duocorpora

“Sam.”

She puts her chin in her hand, watching him across the table. If Cas was going to drag her out to these dinners with the Winchester brothers, then she was at least going to have a good time while she was stuck here. 

“Guess who I saw at work yesterday? Jessica Moore. What a funny coincidence, huh?”

[obscenegesturealert]

@duocorpora

Footsteps echo through the massive library, too quick to be a walk, too slow to be a run. He’s not exactly being subtle here, but subtle isn’t really his strong suit. 

What is his strong suit, is making the most of the situation.

Which he does by catching a sleeve of the giant in flannel who just happens to be down the same aisle as him. Peter yanks him in front of him, a literal human shield, and grins, a finger to his mouth in hopes that the guy will keep quiet.

“I will give you five bucks to stay right there, pal.”

And just on cue: Alarms sounding and running footsteps.