#moose answer

Send me Kill - I’ll write a angst drabble of my character violently killing yours.

Sam and been searching town for the hide out the demon was hiding him.  The storm is perfect cover, but despite that, people were still out and about shopping and stopping in cafés to escape the cold. Being used to the rain, and not minding the cold, Sam hadn’t been using is umbrella. He didn’t notice Belle was heading his direction in tears until she was in his arms and heaving heavily.

"Belle?" He half mumbled in surprise. It didn’t take long for him to snap the umbrella open and wrap an arm around the smaller adult. Gently rubbing her back for a moment, he then wiped tears from her cheeks. She was soaking wet and didn’t seem to care. "What happened? Are you okay?" As he spoke, Sam was taking his jacket off and draping it over the woman’s shoulders. Sure it was wet on the outside, but it was warm and dry on the inside. "You’re going to catch a cold like this." He commented genuinely concerned.

M!A Demon - Muse is possessed by a demon for 48 hours.

Upon discovering, and being able to translate only a little of a passaged he had found into latin, Sam confusingly mouthed the words, trying to make sense of the scripture.

Do tibi corpus meum, quod pro usu licentia Shax vas.

"It kills me to not figure this out. I bet its right there in my face." He mused to himself, setting the paper down. After a few short minutes, the anti-possession sigil on his chest became to burn. Grabbing at it, Sam winced in pain and rushed to a mirror to see what was happening. In a mere thirty seconds, it was gone. Burned, scared over, and healed. Then the voice spoke is a raspy, hoarse tone. "Thank you mortal, ehehe."

Going slightly wide eyed at what he had done, a black mass started to form in front of the Winchester. Once it was about the same size as him, it swarmed and forced itself into Sam’s mouth. Muffling his own soul and consciousness, he was possessed effortlessly in a moment.

Send me  and I’ll generate a number 1-40 to see what my muse texts yours. {#29}

Send me ✉ and I’ll generate a number 1-40 to see what my muse randomly texts yours. {#1} //Dead. x.x

Send me ✉ and I’ll generate a number 1-40 to see what my muse randomly texts yours. {#4}

Sam turned from the coffee pot at the sound of his little girls voice. “Hey sweetie.” He cooed, as he picked her up and kissed her forehead. “Mommy… passed away a long time ago, when you were very little. But she is always looking over you.” He almost strained to answer. It was true, Sasha’s Mother had died. But not because of supernatural causes like you would suspect, since the pair met on a hunt. No, it was a drunk driver on the way home when their little girl was only 1 and just starting to walk on her own.

It pained the young Winchester every time Sasha asked about her. But he knew he did everything he could to save her. The man who had caused the accident is in jail, and the insurance claim was nice enough for him to put money away so Sasha can go to college. If she wanted to. 

"Now, don’t listen to anything your silly Uncle Dean tells you. Daddy will always keep you safe, and Uncle Dean would too.” He reassured, stroking her hair, then gently wiping a tear away. At the mention of him not going ‘bye-bye,’ he smiled.

"No Sasha, Daddy’s not going bye-bye anymore." He agreed, holding her close. When her mother died, he promised he’d give up hunting. He moved into a small house in the suburb. It was already demon proof, him and Dean amide sure of that. There was always a secret knife in each room, each window border had a line of salt, under the wallpaper there were warding sigils of every kind. He didn’t let himself get rusty with any of his skills either. When Sasha would be in preschool, he’d sometimes go to the range, or library. Keeping up with lore, and once in a while helping Dean with some last second research he needed. Dean also made sure to stop by the house at least once every two months.

A carnival was in town and Sam agreed to take Belle. It was one of the largest carnivals of the year, and since these sorts of events didn’t happen too often where she was from, Belle HAD to go. whether is was on her own, or if she had to drag the younger Winchester with her.

The pair walked through the stalls and rows of (obviously rigged) games. A smile was plastered on Sam’s face, and a few chuckles escaped as he watched Belle ‘ooo’ and ‘ahh’ like a small child in a candy store. She tried every one, and was even able to win a few prizes of stuffed animals or candies. A stand operator was even nice enough to give her a medium sized bear just because of her enthusiasm.

Sam’s expression quickly faded however, when Belle had asked to go through the clown themed fun house. You know the ones with the giant painted clown face on the front that looked creepy as hell, yeah that. He hadn’t quite mentioned his distaste in the retched things. But he was willing to ‘try’ so long as it made Belle happy. With a deep breath and clenched jaw, they entered the fun house. It was so far so good. Belle taking her time wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t bad either. Very slowly Sam adjusted at the sight and thought that maybe, just MAYBE, this wasn’t so bad.

Getting near the end, the final stretch was a semi-long hall way. Its walls were covered in paintings of all styles and colors of clowns. Feeling confident and proud of his accomplishment, Sam was feeling good. Great even. Until the last few steps, when the fun house proctor (who was obviously dressed as a clown) jumped from the side in front of the two. He threw confetti and two stuffed clown dolls.