#angelic-rebels

          (Was it a date? He wanted it to be, that was for sure. But he just called the whole thing his treat.)

          The best part of this time period, aside from the cars (though they were nowhere near as beautiful as his Bentley thank you very much), was the fashion. The moment the pair got to America he'd gotten himself all dressed up like a greaser. And after he'd taken care of that all-important fashion choice, he decided to take the angel out for dinner and a movie.

          He'd never actually seen a drive-in theatre before, but the concept was quite incredible as far as he was concerned, and he was excited about the whole event. How the Bentley made it to America was nobody's business but his own, but after promising Aziraphale a surprise and taking him on one hell of a drive, the pair were rolling up to a drive-in. Crowley turned to face the angel with a grin.

          "Movie night, I thought it might be a nice surprise. I'll even take you to one of those diner places when we're done."

@ angelic-rebels

Sam gasped weakly in pain as he slumped heavily against the stone monument of an angel in the ancient cemetery. He tiredly looked up at the marble rendition of one of his brothers. It felt like his stone sibling was watching over him.

The irony of this thought was not lost on him considering it was one of his siblings that had hurt him. They had grown angry at his love of staying on earth just to read the books the planet had to offer. But humans were such amazing creatures, how could he resist the charm of their writers?

He mewled tiredly as he weakly pushed his vessel’s flannel shirt aside to look at his wound. He grimaced at the sight. His brothers had captured him, used one of their blades to carve runes in his skin. Runes that slowly drained and locked away his grace. It left him feeling so weak, so helpless. 

That was bad enough but they had done more. They had beaten and tortured him in their anger. Telling him he would never be able to come home again. The thought of never seeing his favorite brother again broke his heart.

Dean and Bobby sat in the symbol slathered shed for what felt like hours after Bobby had performed the summoning ritual. They had everything at the ready for whatever the Hell they were about to bring upon themselves. Bobby sat atop one table, whistling a melody and looking for any signs that whatever creature was stalking them was coming. Dean toyed with his knife, jamming the tip of the blade into the wood of the table he sat on, slouching and bored out of his mind. Finally, he had to ask.

“Are you sure you did the ritual right?” Dean bluntly questioned. The look he received from the Man of Letters could’ve made a siren spin on its heal and walk away. “Sorry... Touchy, touchy...”

Just when Dean was about ready to suggest they just pack it up and go, there was a slowly escalating disturbance in the area. At first, it seemed almost like a bad thunderstorm that gave rise to a tornado. Dean looked at Bobby and they were both getting to their feet, shotguns in hand. They looked around at the roof threatening to fly right off as they stood shoulder to shoulder. Part of Dean was really hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was. 

That part showed through as he said, “Wishful thinking, but maybe it’s just the wind...”

He was quickly proven wrong as the lights above them started shattering and the doors seemed to open of their own accord. As they opened, an inky shadow spilled onto the floor from outside, the shadow of what looked like an ordinary man. Given the circumstances, it was clear that whatever was walking through that doorway was not human, but had taken over one. On instinct, Dean and Bobby both began firing shots as quickly and accurately as they could mange with all the sparks flying in front of their faces. Nothing seemed to phase whatever was coming at them, though. Once the sparks stopped, they ran out of bullets and Dean grabbed his knife from the table where he’d discarded it earlier. The being drew closer, cloaked in human male wearing a tan trench coat, a suit, and dress shoes. The vessel was caucasian with unruly short almost black hair and a five o’clock shadow of scruff. Dean wasn’t thrown for a second and he certainly didn’t miss a beat as he held his knife at the ready.

“Who are you?” Dean demanded in wary tone as the being came closer.

[ @angelic-rebels ]

Sleipnir watched the truck disappear as he looked up at the large house. It was the last address on the sheet of growing paper. If this wasn’t the right place then he was back at square one with nowhere to turn to. 

Sleip approached the door, peering through the window but saw nothing behind the curtain and instead went to the door, knocking three times and took a step back. He didn’t consider what all this could have led to until that very moment. But at that point it was too late to turn back surely. 

He held his breath as he heard the door unlock and open up to a hazel eyed blonde man. “Are you um...Gabe?” He didn’t have a name beyond that, his fingers shaking as they held the thick bundle of letters. 

RP with @angelic-rebels

Hannah donned her favorite red checkered dress as she walked through the campus. She couldn’t believe she’d been able to talk her father into letting her go to college. Of course, the only reason he agreed was so she would find a husband, a lawyer or a doctor would be preferred. She sighed. She hoped this would be an adventure.