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Another header + icon commission combo I did lately!!! I has so much fun with the colors here!!! 

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rough map of dean’s hell and where the other princes are located

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7x08 | Season 7, Time for a Wedding!

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women wear suits better than men and thats just a cold hard fact

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— Silas House, This is My Heart for You

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Annoyed scruffy!Dean for Abby. Happy Birthday, sweetie! 💗

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“He lives at the top of a mountain? A mountain that exists on no maps? With a castle on top? What the fuck, Kira.”

Kira flicked up the collar to her jacket against the snow swirling around them, adjusting her scarf as well as she shot a glare over at D.M. “Don’t blame me! He’s the one who decided to live here.”

“I don’t blame him, he’s fucking clever, living in the middle of nowhere. I blame you for dragging me here.” D.M. shuddered as he followed in Kira’s footsteps, the pair slogging up a narrow mountain path. They’d only been able to get but so close with magic--some sort of barrier around the mountain’s peak kept them from getting closer, meaning they had to go the rest of the way on foot.

Which wouldn’t be an issue, if it weren’t for the snow whipping around them and making the path ahead nearly invisible. There’d been several stumbles from the both of them, neither having worn the right kind of clothes to make this kind of steep, slippery climb.

“Are we even getting any closer? I can’t see worth shit in all this--”

Kira stopped suddenly in her tracks and D.M. stumbled to a stop, peeking over her shoulder to see what made her stop so suddenly. A man stood in their way, shirtless and barefoot but thankfully wearing pants. He seemed indifferent to the cold, the wind playing with some of the longer tendrils of his hair, the scruff on his face forming a thick beard. What stopped them in their tracks, though, was the fact that even though the man stood several feet away, Kira could tell his gaze was scathing, lightly restrained rage just below the surface.

“What do you want?” His voice was gruff, eyes flicking from D.M. looking over Kira’s shoulder, to Kira’s clearly surprised face.

She gathered herself quickly though, pushing hair out of her face and lifting her chin challengingly. “We want to talk to you about joining a--”

“Not interested. Get the fuck off my mountain.” The man crossed his arms.

“We know who you are, Dylan. We know about your magic, and we’d like to--”

“I know what you are, demon, and I’m not interested in anything you have to say. So take your shit and leave.”

D.M. grabbed Kira’s shoulder before she could say anything further, leaning a little past her to speak. “Alright, we’ll leave. But if you change your mind,” D.M. conjured a card from thin air, sticking it down in the snow near their feet. “Give them a visit. Consider it our references.”

Kira’s brows drew together as she looked from D.M. to Dylan and back again before letting D.M. whisk them away in his magic.

Dylan waited for a moment before going to pick up the card, flipping it over and reading it. There were coordinates and a name, but little else on the card to explain why he’d leave the safety of his home for some stranger in a strange place. Yet curiosity had him tucking the card into a pocket as he turned and made his way back up the path with ease, picking the easiest way up while he mulled over his options.

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The lights flickered in the empty jail cells, which in and of itself wasn’t unusual, but the fact that all of the lights flickered at once with a bit of a sparking made Jax sit up slowly. He frowned, slowly looking around the room for something unusual. The drunk tank on the opposite end of the row of cells was the only other one that had someone in it, two drunks sleeping on the floor, one snoring loud enough to rattle the bars, but otherwise the place was empty.

The electricity surged again and Jax swung his feet to the floor, slowly standing and staring at the lights flickering above him. This was weird, even by his standards. His fingers flexed reflexively, despite the bruises and cuts on his knuckles. The lights continued to flicker before finally shutting off as Jax wrapped his fingers around the jail cell’s bars. “Uhh, guard? Officer?”

No one answered and the lights stayed off. The silence that settled in the jail was unsettling, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as even the drunks seemed to settle into an uneasy silence.

Some bit of motion caught his eye and he turned to look at the far end of the line of cells when something suddenly appeared directly in front of him. “Hello, Jax.”

Jax startled, falling back onto his ass with a yelp. “What the fuck--”

The person in front of him as smirking. His blue eyes danced, short black hair a wild mess, though he was wearing a thick black peacoat and what appeared to be an expensive suit. “We need to talk.”

Jax glanced around the room, lingering on the still forms of the drunks. “Did you--”

“Kill them? No, though I considered it. they’re just asleep. Ah, well, more like in a coma. Whatever, they’ll wake up when we leave.”

“When we leave?”

“Yes. I have a job for you. I figured you would take it, considering your current circumstances.” The stranger gave a pointed look at the cell bars.

Jax slowly pushed himself back onto his feet, dusting himself off. He didn’t get closer to the bars, however, preferring to keep himself out of reach. “Uh, as you noticed, I’m currently in jail and this isn’t exactly a good time to bail me out so...”

The man rolled his eyes and took a step back from the bars. Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers, and the door to the jail cell swung open. Arching an eyebrow, the man looked back over at Jax. “You were saying?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Castiel,” The man said, his eyes suddenly flooding black. “And do I have a wonderful job for you.”

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Kira’s boots clicked on the porch as she climbed the steps to D.M.’s house. She didn’t hesitate at the door, instead letting herself in and making her way into his kitchen. The night outside was cold and threatened snow, but inside, the house was warm, and she slowly felt the warmth warm her skin as she began making a pot of tea. D.M. appeared in the doorway at some point, simply standing and watching, seeming lost in his own house.

“We need to talk.”

“Clearly.” D.M. finally seemed to mobilize, brushing past Kira to pull mugs from his cupboards. The fact that he wasn’t yelling and kicking her out boded well, so Kira continued to make the tea, grabbing milk from the fridge and the sugar from the counter, moving both to the kitchen table while D.M. moved the pot off the stove and put that beside the mugs before taking a seat. Once Kira sat, D.M. spoke.

“Why are you here?”

“Dean wants your help.” Kira poured herself a cup of tea, adding milk and sugar without looking up at him.

D.M. rolled his eyes. “Dean can come and ask me his damn--”

“Dean’s King of Hell and wants you to be the Court Witch on his Council, sitting beside Castiel and myself.” Cool blue eyes dragged themselves up to catch the flicker of surprise over D.M.’s face.

Silence fell between them. D.M. still hadn’t made his tea while Kira held hers in both her hands, occasionally sipping. Curiosity eventually wandered in, the black cat spirit rubbing up against D.M.’s ankles, the witch absently playing with his tail.

“He wants me to work for him?”

“With him,” Kira corrected. “Work with him. He’s going to take down the six other Princes of Hell and rule himself. Dean wants to close all but one of the Gates of Hell and limit the number of demons allowed on the surface.”

“He’s fucking mad.”

“No one ever claimed he was sane.”

“But you think he can do this?”

“If anyone can, it’s Dean Winchester.” Kira answered honestly, and D.M. was surprised by the amount of faith in her voice. He had to look away, gaze dropping to the table before wandering to the window over the kitchen sink.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, closing his eyes to avoid looking at Kira.

Her brows arched slightly, putting down her tea. “So you’re saying no?”

“No, I--about before. I’m sorry I left you. And I’m sorry you died. It wasn’t--this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

It was Kira’s turn to stare at the kitchen table, her lips pursed. Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke. “I remember, you know. I remember when we first met--really met.”

She could see D.M.’s head jerk towards her, his bright amber eyes intense all of a sudden. “You mean--”

“I remember my first life, yes.” Kira sighed, closing her eyes against the intensity of his gaze, turning her head to look back down at her hands. “The perks of being a demon witch, I guess. But I understand now, why you did what you did. You couldn’t bear to watch me die again. But you also couldn’t bear to take me with you because I wasn’t quite the same. You were hoping maybe next time I’d be closer to my first life.”

“No, I--” D.M.’s words stumbled to a halt as Kira waved her hand lazily, as if batting his words away.

“It’s alright, D.M. I get it. I really do. I’m not mad.” A pause. “Well, I guess not anymore at least.”

“When did you get your memories back?”

“A month ago? Two? It came back through dreams, but I know a memory when I feel it. It was too real to be anything else.”

D.M. licked his lips. “And you remember it all...?”

“Most of it,” Kira nodded. “I know I was a viking. I know you met me sometime after your grandfather died while you were wandering. You stayed for a long time with me. But you grew restless and had to leave eventually.”

“I didn’t want to.”

Kira gave him a small smile, warm, if a little sad. “Don’t lie, Merlin. You and I both know you’ve always been a wandering soul.”

When they both fell silent, Kira reached over and took his hand. Giving it a little squeeze, D.M. finally looked up at her, amber eyes meeting blue. “I truly believe in what Dean is doing, Merlin. I believe in him as you believed in your grandfather. I believe in him as you believe in Arthur.”

D.M.’s head tilted back, but he didn’t pull his hand away from Kira’s, closing his eyes with a small sigh. He stayed like that for a long moment before tipping his head back down and nodding slowly. “Alright. I’ll join his court or council or whatever the fuck it is. But I’m not moving to Hell.”

Kira gave him a broad, bright smile and pulled a cell phone out of her pocket. “You don’t have to. Just so long as you come whenever Dean calls.”

D.M. snorted, picking up the phone--an old Razr flip phone--lazily arching a brow at Kira. “What, no magical summons? No demons sprinting through my house at odd hours of the night?”

“I did enchant the phone so it won’t ever lose signal?”

“Now that’s just cruel,” D.M. said, but he couldn’t hide his smile as he slid it into his pocket. “Finish the tea with me?”

Kira smiled and poured herself another cup, then poured one for D.M., placing her hand back atop his once she was done.

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i have like… a million and a half characters. and i’m trying to decide who may be worth reviving and who may not be–and ya’ll can help!! if you can, take a moment and select one (or more!) blogs that you’d be interested in rping with. if i know people would be interested in interacting, it helps me figure out what to do next!

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♦ turned

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12.11 | Regarding Dean

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Unpopular Opinion

Just because I’m an “unholy abomination” from “the netherworld” who “eats the flesh of the living” doesn’t mean I deserve to be shot at with a crossbow.

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“my dad raised me and sam to hunt”, not “my dad raised me and sam”

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My first Destiel ever. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone ♥

Animated version [here]