#sevendeadlyrabbits

[drunkcleric]

sevendeadlyrabbits replied to your post “Wtf do you put in a thank you card to a teacher”

thnks fr the mmrs

iM FRICKING

[deansass]

The quote is "My love is your disease, I won't let it set you free 'til I break you" and the ship is Samifer

ooh i like that idea

send me a prompt/quote for a sketch like this?

[there-is-irony-everywhere]

sevendeadlyrabbits a réagi à votre billet “I don’t know for other non english speaker countries but in France the...”

IT'S NOT ONLY FRANCE. HERE IN POLAND IT'S FOR EXAMPLE: Catching fire => In a ring of fire, Die Hard => Glass Trap, Dirty Dancing => Swirling Sex

I don't know if I'm glad or afraid that we are not the only ones doing that. It doesn't make any sense u_u Seriously, I don't understand what came in their mind.

[leofjtz-old-blog]

sevendeadlyrabbits replied to your post: guys guys guys, you know that exam i was freaking...

good job!! :D

thank you! i am really pleased!

[imagineanders]

Imagine Anders giving his food to stray cats despite being hungry

[hellhoundsinbelgravia]

Life is Just Too Dull Part III

Part 3 for sevendeadlyrabbits!!! Sam didn't break down. Sam didn't try to move Mr Scott. Sam didn't run after Lucifer. He walked home. John was passed out on the couch, empty bottle in hand, bruise on his cheek. Dean and Mary were sitting at the kitchen table, icing Dean's hand. His knuckles looked swollen. "Sammy?" Dean's voice sounded rougher, more choked than usual. Sam looked hard, snapping out of the daze of blackmail. "There you are. I thought you'd fallen asleep already, what with your door locked and all..." He trailed off, evidently wanting an explanation. Mary smiled gently at her son, and nodded to the fridge. "There's a serving of macaroni and cheese in there, darling. Help yourself if you're hungry. Did you have a nice nap?" Her eyes were tight. It was evident that something had happened in his absence and Sam's stomach clenched at the thought that he had missed something because he was too busy playing house with a murderer. "Yeah... I just had a headache and wanted to escape for a bit, so I put my headphones in and slept. What happened, mom? Dean?" He looked from one to the other, concern etching deep lines in his young forehead. "Nothing, sweetie." His mother hastened to answer with a smile. "Have you still got your headache? I can find some aspirin..." What Sam really wanted was some answers, and perhaps to not have the threat of Lucifer hanging over him and his family. "I'm fine now, mom, I promise." Dropping a kiss onto her cheek, Sam turned to Dean and fixed piercing eyes onto his. "Dean, mind coming and helping me with some mechanics homework?" It was clear to the older Winchester what Sam really wanted and he sighed inwardly; on one hand, Sam deserved to know what was going on. On the other, Dean never wanted Sam affected by his drunken father, when he had his older brother to protect him. Sam was going places, unlike Dean, a high school dropout, and Dean would do anything to ensure that he didn't have to grow up before his time. He had a month left until his eighteenth birthday, and Dean had vowed to himself to make sure Sam enjoyed his last days of childhood. But, he knew, what had occurred this evening couldn't be kept a secret. "Sure, Sammy. Let's go to your room and you can explain to me how a smart kid like you can't handle a little practical, hands on shop work," Dean grinned at his baby brother, love clear in his eyes. Damn, he wished that Sammy was a little kid again. It was so much easier to protect him when he adored Dean and never saw any faults in him. ------------------------------------- "What happened, Dean?" Sam whispered lowly as soon as his door was shut. He loved his older brother dearly and unconditionally but he had a habit of trying to shield him from every little thing. "Obviously a line was crossed; it's the first time you've ever hit dad without you having a mark on you first." Sam was right, and Dean knew it. "When you weren't down there, dad got pissed and said that you were abandoning your family for a pipe dream." Dean started, and it was no news to Sam, as his ambitions had been a point of conflict between him and his father for years. "But your door was locked, and you wouldn't come out. I told him that you were probably asleep, but he got angrier and kept drinking." Sam tensed. Yeah, their dad usually drank tons and was verbally aggressive with a seventy percent chance of physical violence, but this was different. Sam was out, it shouldn't have continued. "Mom tried to calm him down and take his fifth bottle of Jacks away from him, and he started on her. Yellin', moving on her, intimidating her. I wasn't gonna have it, Sammy. Mom loves the dick and won't ever leave him, but if he ever turns on her again I'll kill him, I swear it. No one hurts mom." Dean tried to conceal the tears in his eyes but Sam saw one crystalline teardrop slip down his cheek before his brother wiped it away. "I decked him and knocked him out cold. Figured he'd be pissed in the morning and I'll be in the doghouse for a couple of weeks, but nothing as bad as if he'd laid a finger on her, the son of a bitch." Sam agreed wholeheartedly with his brother and wished, not for the first time, that he was able to help Dean stand up against their father. It broke Dean down, having to stand up against a man he loved so much on a daily basis, protecting his younger brother when really, he shouldn't have to. But Dean would never go to the authorities about their dad, not least because John was one of the most respected police officers in Lawrence, but because he couldn't do that to his family. He was the one who kept the family together; helped their mom, kept Sam from leaving, stopped their dad from killing himself. "I'm sorry, Dean." Sam murmured, laying a calming hand on his shoulder. It seemed to ease the tension, and Dean looked back up at his brother fondly. The Sasquatch was so huge yet so humble, the gentle giant quite literally, but the guilt he had was unfair. Dean didn't want Sam getting involved, was actually grateful that he hadn't been there. It wasn't for him to see. He shouldn't have to see their dad destroy himself and be powerless to stop it. In a month he'd be eighteen. In three, he'd be off to Stanford. And that was good enough for Dean. "Don't be, man. Just stay out of trouble, okay? I'm not gonna let you go off to the coast just so you can get yourself into trouble trying to change lives. You can stay here with me if that's what you'll do." Dean looked questioningly at Sam. "Promise me you'll be okay out there. I can't protect you out there and it kills me, dude, but I gotta know that you'll be safe, and out of trouble, and okay." Dean's concern was heartwarming and his overprotectiveness was adorable, and Sam couldn't help but laugh softly. He would have hugged the guy if his knuckles weren't so bad. "I'll be fine, Dean. When do I ever get into trouble?" As he said the words, he realised that tonight had been the night those words became a lie. He was on the wrong side of the law thanks to a desire to read and stay out of his father's way. How the hell did that happen? "A parking ticket counts, bitch, and you got three of those last year alone. You really want me to go there?" Dean countered with a smirk on his face. "You little girl, can't even remember how long you parked for." "Shut up, jerk," countered Sam with a grin. This was what he loved about Dean - he was so predictable. So familiar. It almost made him forget that Sam was now a criminal, aiding and abetting a serial killer. Something must have shown on his face because Dean became concerned once more. "What is it, Sammy? You aren't really in trouble, are you?" He asked, moving to sit on his little brother's bed. "You know you can tell me anything, and I'll help you." Sam didn't doubt whether Dean was genuine, but couldn't ask that much of him. Perhaps if Sam figured out a way out himself, he might ask Dean for help, but he wouldn't put him in Lucifer's way, not such a dangerous, invisible killer, when for some reason there was a quality about Sam that had spared him. "Nothing, Dean. I'm just tired again. I'm going to head to bed, alright?" He asked, forcing a small smile onto his face. Dean nodded, convinced, and left the room. Sam sat in the space Dean had vacated and thought to himself. What had it been, exactly, that Lucifer had seen that made him decide to let Sam live? If he found out what, Sam knew he would be able to escape the iron grip of blackmail.

[hellhoundsinbelgravia]

Life is Just Too Dull Part II

Here's part 2 of LIJTD, dedicated to the prompter, sevendeadlyrabbits! Nick Pellegrino couldn't account his homocidal tendencies on his childhood. He had been normal. He couldn't account it on his marriage, or his divorce; it was short and amicable when they both realised they were more interested in the same sex. He couldn't account it on losing his job, because he was safer than most men his age in his career, and on a steady path. All he knew is that he had a thirst for killing, and nothing could stop him, not even God himself. But when Nick, or Lucifer, as he was called, was stumbled (and thrown up) upon by the tall but evidently young and innocent man after killing the pedophile Thomas Scott, he didn't feel the compulsion to murder him. He couldn't be left as a witness, and there was an obligation to uphold his reputation, but the soft chocolate eyes and resigned, mature attitude of the studious teenager made him pause. The butcher's knife in his gloved hands didn't raise to slice into the boy's throat. Nick found that he didn't want to kill him at all. Didn't want to see the blood running from a gaping wound, didn't want to see the life fade from his eyes, or be forced to conjure a creative way to string him up. The boy was just too fascinating. So, instead of ending his short life, Nick sat on a covered filing cabinet. "What's your name, kid?" He asked, folding his arms. His blue shirt was soaked with the stench and colour of death, the olive tshirt underneath in a similar state. They would have to be burned, as would the kid's. "Hey, jailbait; open your eyes. If I was going to kill you, I would have done it faster than this. I'm a murderer. I'm not a sadist." Well, that wasn't strictly true, but he wasn't going to tell that to someone who was obviously not yet legal. "S-Sam," the boy in question coughed. "I'm Sam. Why... why am I not dead?" He asked, panic clear in his eyes. Did he have someone to go home to? It would be worlds different from the orphanages that Nick had grown up in, which had been perfectly acceptable but lacked the warmth of a real family. "Because until your existence is ended, through natural means or manmade interference," Nick paused to wink evilly, causing Sam to shiver, his eyes wide. "you will continue to be alive. Apologies, but that's the way the world works." From what he could see, Sam was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that the serial killer didn't want to kill. "Oh come on, Sammy - can I call you Sammy? Good - it isn't all that hard to believe! I'm not the devil, I am still human." Nick grinned and strode away from the young man, proceeding to tidy up, starting with stripping the room of the plastic covers. It meant that Scott was left, pristine in his grotesque display, without anyone being distracted by the amount of blood everywhere. It had been necessary, and on the verge of enjoyable, but more than that. It had been a just killing. In his fifteen years as vigilante killer, he had only targeted those men and women who commit crimes punishable by more than just a prison sentence. This overweight child-molester deserved everything he got, and slightly more, but Nick didn't have the time or patience to take it slower to accommodate the older man's weak heart. "According to the news, you aren't. According to the news, you'll be on death row as soon as you're caught, and then we'll sleep safer in our houses because you'll be off the streets for good. I wanted to be the one to prosecute you; I didn't realise I'd be almost killed by you before I get out of high school." Something in Sam's demeanour had shifted and he seemed more confident in his six foot two frame. Nick would guess that he still had some growing to do. Sam was standing taller, frowning. It was interesting that he would suddenly grow a backbone... definitely a good thing. It meant that he wouldn't start crying and begging and other things that people usually did when they knew he was a murderer. "But the news, Sammy... you shouldn't believe everything you hear on the news. Does the news say that I only ever kill people who commit crimes worse than murder? People who wouldn't be prosecuted, but if they did would only get five years or so in jail?" Nick paused, considering why he was telling Sam this whilst he erased any trace of himself from the room. "I kill people who don't deserve to live. Mr Scott up here? Your friendly boss? He has molested no less than eighteen children since he moved here. Killed one or two, I suppose, though I have no interest in finding the bodies. He wouldn't have been caught, and so I decided to catch him. I decided to make him pay for the eighteen lives he ruined. He was intending on doing something with you, you know. Young, impressionable employee? He would have you bent to his will before you could blink." Sam looked shocked and appalled at the same time. At least Nick was certain that he had nothing to do with the perverted librarian's game. "Mr Scott was so good to me... I never even thought..." Sam started hesitantly, all ego drained from his stance. If he hadn't been able to identify such a man when working with him for months, how on earth was he supposed to be able to practice law and prosecute the bad guys? "That's the point! No one ever thinks it is who it is. You never thought, people never think of me! It's the perfect set up for any deviant!" Nick yelled, finally finished decorating his set. Now, he was ready to leave and let Thomas Scott take centre stage. "You are officially an accomplice to this crime, Sammy. You've aided and abetted someone who you knew full well was a serial killer. Don't tell a soul, or I'll come for you. I can find you in a heartbeat." Nick whispered in the younger man's ear, deciding on impulse to lick the shell of his tanned ear, eliciting a shudder and a startled yelp from the seventeen-year-old. Then he brushed past and out of the door, into the darkened library and the world beyond.

[hellhoundsinbelgravia]

For sevendeadlyrabbits!