hi the one and only wanopoer.... i was wondering how many characters in wanopos' songs have official names? I know majority of them probably dont have names but im curious abt the ones that do!!!!
Day 522:
Ok look this is a really really good question and i love it thank you, it deserves to be a day,,,,
â okay sooo... first up we have the rimokon gang!
transmitter, reciever, carrier, modulator, adapter and connector!
theres also a few characters with names in the novel but theyre Insignificant and have no designs and aren't actually in any songs
â next up its mahako and raja (from maharaja endless). this was confirmed on stream after the release of the mv in the concept art (day 126)! this may mean that rarehen wa (also designed by sora tsushima) may have confirmed names as well But we don't know cause the stream (if there was one) wasn't archived!!!!!!!!
â right and left from unousanou (technically its unou and sanou but left and right still work)
â ousama and knight (his name is 'soldier' in the novel but knight works better imo)
â roy and emil (ocs from the dsnhtt novels, but they do exist in the adlog mv)
â zaiza and rain (also dsnhtt novels)
âtojo and kagamine-sensei (rin, miku and kaito are just their default names,,, len too kinda but hes mostly called kagamine sensei)
â buster and errorlen (SHARK calls them by these names so its real trust)
â also i assume these 2 from quarrel of the doppelganger have names (or rather a name) too i just havent gotten to reading the novel,,, theres ocs there too, as far as i can see
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two unrelated test/practice comic pages. First one with Passageways characters and the second for StSS. Both sketched while I was on the plane back home.
Title: Black Dog - part nine
Word count: 6275± words
Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range,  Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her  demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to  be her final hunt.
Part nine summary: Zoë owes Dean an explanation, but will she be able to keep it together when she opens up about the reason she is being hunted by hellhounds?
Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of  torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and  flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations.
Authorâs note: Welcome back, everyone! Betaâd by @winchest09ââââââââ & @deanwanddamonsâââââââââ. Also, @teresa-67â, thank you for your imput on this chapter!Â
Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist
S1E03 âBlack Dogâ Masterlist
    Darrington, Washington
    December 3rd, 2005 - Present Day
    Floor - wall - repeat. Floor - wall - repeat. Itâs the way a baseball bounces through the small hunterâs cabin, the repetitive thuds the only soundtrack to the bleak scene. The sun refuses to shine through the square windows, hiding behind the dark clouds above. Evergreens that surround the little house whisper nervously in the stern Northern wind. The mountain seems anxious for whatâs coming.Â
    Inside, the flames in the fireplace rustle, trying to distract the two troubled souls. Dean - who has taken a seat on the hard-wooden floor next to their heat source - throws the ball again. It jumps up from the ground and hits the wall, before it comes back to the guy who found the old thing in a drawer. With excellent reflexes, he catches it, without drawing his eyes away from ZoĂ«. The huntress hasnât moved from her position opposite of him, still leaning against the turned-over table in the middle of the room while absently watching ambers twirl up into the chimney. Not a word has passed her lips since the conversation with Sam, which was well over eight hours ago. Dean shot a few questions at her, but the stubborn woman apparently decided to pretend heâs nothing but air, because she refused to answer any of them.
    Several thoughts cross Deanâs mind as he observes the mysterious woman, all of them orbiting around the reason why they are stuck here in the first place. So ZoĂ« Sullivan made a deal. A silent scoff escapes his chest, shaking his head slightly as he throws the baseball again, the sound of the round object colliding with the timber a little louder when he uses more force. What the fuck was she thinking? What the hell would have driven her to make a pact with the Devil? And what did she get in return?
    Then thereâs her powers. Finding out that his little brother has visions still keeps him up at night, but after this new revelation, the plot thickens. Apparently Sam is not alone. The three of them meeting seems too much of a coincidence all of a sudden. What could this all mean?
    Contemplating, he catches the leather ball one-handedly and continues the motion over and over. Not just to keep busy; he also hopes to trigger a response from ZoĂ«. Itâs starting to work, because the huntress rests her head back against the wooden surface with an annoyed sigh as her eyes start to follow the ball.
    âAre you gonna stop doing that?â she more demands than asks, firmly requesting him to knock it off.
    âAre you gonna start talking?â Dean returns, clever.
    ZoĂ« narrows her eyes at him and sets her jaw before she redirects her gaze to the window; she clearly doesnât plan on it. As the man who sheâs stuck in this little hut with continues his therapeutic occupation, she tries to tune out the sounds inside. She knows the hellhounds are still on the threshold, determined to claim her. She can hear them sneaking around the cabin, sniffing the snow and testing their boundaries. They have been doing so since Dean snuck out on his mission to get the satellite phone. The smart creatures seem to be waiting for another slip up, ready to finish the job they are trained to do.Â
    The pounding of the baseball against the timber drags her from her thoughts. Although having flesh-eating, demonic pitbulls right outside the door is enough to have her on edge, Dean is beginning to add to her exasperation. Brown eyes observe the fast moving object, tracing the motion. Right after the toy bounces off the opposite wall from where Dean is sitting, it makes a sharp turn. The hunter is ready for the catch, but his brows hit his hairline when he witnesses the change of course. ZoĂ« snatches the ball out of the air and places it on the floorboards next to her, letting out a relieved sigh as she closes her eyes, enjoying the silence. She canât see how her companion is doing a double-take with his jaw agape, wide eyes glancing from the huntress to his empty hand and back. The sheer thought of catching the cocky Winchester off guard has her fighting the smile that is tugging at the corners of her mouth, though.
    âSeriously, Zo, this is freaking me out!â he exclaims.
    She giggles and opens her eyes again, taking in the baseball by her side. Strangely enough, she knows where heâs coming from. The first time she got angry and broke a mirror about six weeks ago, she thought it might have been a spirit or an almost insensible tremor of the earth, considering she was in San Francisco at the time. But when a full pint of beer broke in the hands of the guy who cheated during poker, she started to get suspicious. The third time another mirror fell victim. She remembers that moment precisely. ZoĂ« rented a hotel room near Cherry Hill in New Jersey and stared at her reflection in the bathroom. If this were true, she figured that anger was the trigger, so she got angry. It didnât take much, watching herself was quite enough to get disgusted and furious. Then, just like that, it shattered. For a good minute she kept staring at the broken being in the distorted image. Once, she considered herself normal, but the person looking back at her was so far from it, that the huntress would investigate a case like herself. The shards on the wall were the confirmation she was looking for and yet hoped not to be true. She couldnât make up excuses anymore. There wasnât an earthquake in San Francisco and the cheater didnât squeeze his pint too tight. She had done it with her mind.Â
    Panic hit soon after. She hid, curtains closed, door shut, crying under the covers like a child. After days of not looking at anything made out of glass, ZoĂ« came to the conclusion that she should either deal with this or go live in a cave. So she embraced it and as it turns out, itâs actually quite a cool trait, especially when she figured out she could control it. With a lot of practice, she didnât need anger anymore, just focus. Her experience with the Johnny Walker bottle in Beetleâs Bar down in Rochester, Minnesota was a new one, though. She wanted that whiskey so badly, that it actually shifted towards her, until it fell off the sill and broke into a million pieces. She didnât blow it up, she moved it. There is a big difference between nudging a small object only a few inches, or slamming the door into the faces of a pack of hellhounds, but apparently sheâs able to do much more than she thought she would be capable of.Â
    ZoĂ« picks up the baseball, holding it in the palm of her hand and concentrates on the white leather and red stitching, until it begins to float. Content, ZoĂ« smiles; sheâs getting better.Â
    Dean watches the huntress work the small object in complete awe. If he wasnât seeing this with his own two eyes, he wouldnât believe it to be possible. For a moment her ability doesnât intimidate him, on the contrary. The hunter is impressed with how she handles the toy, allowing it to levitate and slowly spin around its axle graciously. Itâs amazing how sheâs able to have complete control over the ball, making it do whatever she wants. Itâs a supernatural phenomenon, yet beautiful at the same time.Â
    With a gentle gesture, ZoĂ« sends the baseball back to its previous owner. Slowly, it crosses the room and dances in the air before Deanâs face. Stunned, he observes, green eyes fixed on the object. Wanting to rule out that this isnât indeed a smart magicianâs magic trick, he moves his hand above the ball to test if there are any strings attached. When that theory is proven wrong, the hunter carefully takes the toy between his thumb and index finger, examining the little thing from every direction. With no other explanation left than that this is in fact real, he peers at the woman who possesses the power of telekinesis.
    âHow the fuck are you pulling this Yoda stunt?â he asks, fascinated.
    ZoĂ« shrugs. âI just concentrate on it and tell it what to do.â
    âYou âjustâ concentrate? I can concentrate the hell I want, it ainât movinâ,â Dean brings to mind, nodding at the ball.
    âThatâs because I am a Jedi and youâre not,â she nags.
    He chuckles. âWell, may the force be with you. Iâd rather be Batman.âÂ
    ZoĂ« grins, but she gets why heâs apprehensive. At first, so was she, but now that she has accepted this to be a part of her, she has grown accustomed to it, not fearing her abilities anymore. Where they might come from, now thatâs a whole other story. Face it; these things sheâs able to do, itâs not human. Sheâs too afraid to say it out loud, but these powers are edging towards the demonic. No wonder Dean thought she was possessed.
    She glances at the hunter, but his thoughts seem to have wandered off. The baseball sits on the floor next to Deanâs outstretched right leg, his left pulled up and serving as an armrest. A frown is edging lines between his brows while he gazes through the window, the evergreens outside sharing the color of the manâs distinctive eyes.Â
    Although she can think of more than a few reasons why the Winchester is pondering, she knows who is on his mind. âWorried about Sam?â
    Dean snaps out of it and looks at her, puzzled. Is it that obvious? The fact that sheâs right doesnât mean heâs going to admit to it, so he shrugs it off. âWhy would I be?â
    âI just figured, with him having those visions and all,â ZoĂ« replies.
    âHaving weird dreams is something entirely different than moving things with your damn mind,â he states, judgemental.
    But his female companion doesnât agree. âI train my abilities. Sam pretends he doesnât have any. Thatâs the only difference,â she responds rationally. âBesides, it started with me just like it did with him, and around the same time as well.â
    âWait, what?â Dean stammers, not sure what question to ask first. âYou had visions too? And this all kicked off like two months back?â
    ZoĂ« nods confirmingly. âThe first dream hit me about six weeks ago. I donât have visions, though. More like flashbacks; I see the past,â she corrects.
    The hunter stares at her, staggered. He canât tell what is more disturbing, that her abilities started out just like Samâs or that she just used the present simple, meaning that she still has them. âYou still do?â
    âYep, together with migraines and the feeling like Iâve been run over by a train,â she scoffs.
    Processing all this new information, Dean rubs his eyes. This all sounds way too familiar, yet there is a difference between ZoĂ« and his younger sibling, and itâs not just the different levels of expertise.Â
    âSo you see what has happened? How is that helpful? How can you change something if it took place already?â he comments.
    âYou donât get it, do you?â she chuckles, amused by his narrow mindedness. âHistory is the key to the future.â
    âAlright, weâve already established that youâre Yoda, but cut the fucking words of wisdom, okay?â Dean says, not impressed. âWhatâs done is done; the past doesnât give you jack shit.â
    âI see history unfolding and can prevent it from happening again, like Paragould,â the huntress elaborates. âI knew all about how the father abused that little girl, and my bet was on a revenge-seeking spirit from the jump. Usually, I can get to town in time before the first kill, but when Laura got to her daddy first, I wasnât even shaken up about it.â
    Dean understands now. âThatâs how you cracked that case so fast.â
    âYeah, wellâŠâ she admits, after which her gaze drops to her hands. âI wish I couldâve saved the principal and the teacher, though.â
    âHey, that damaged kid was on a rampage. A lot more people wouldâve gotten killed if you hadnât stepped in so fast,â the hunter offers, hoping it will give her some solace.
    ZoĂ« half nods, pursing her lips. âI had a little help.â
    A small smirk pulls at the corner of Deanâs mouth, appreciating the hit of gratefulness in her words. âWe make one hell of a dream team, the three of us,â he says.Â
    For once, ZoĂ« doesnât reply with a snarky remark, the silence a symbol to her agreement. She dips her head and stays quiet, allowing her colleagueâs conclusion to sink in. She cannot deny what he says is true. Yes, they butt heads. Yes, she would rather fly solo. Sometimes, though, accepting help is the only way out of a tough spot. It applied for the case in Arkansas, but will it also be the case here? She doubts it, but doesnât voice her negative assumption.
    Outside, the wind is picking up, cold air howling through the trees and breezing through the cracks of the cabin. The weather has steadily grown more restless, seemingly apprehensive of whatâs to come. Itâs as if the sun has never really risen at dawn, the skies remaining a dark tint of grey. The hellhounds are laying low, at least for now. The constant howling and barking earlier made their prey anxious. The silence between the hunters isnât helping to put ZoĂ«âs troubled mind to rest either.
    âSoâŠâ she starts out of the blue. âWhy did you come out here?â
    Wanting to prevent a rain of questions, she decides to turn tables. It works, although Dean doesnât answer with words. He takes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it towards her. With one hand she catches the small Samsung and opens the lid to reveal the display.
    âInbox. Latest text,â Dean says.
    She does as told and opens the message which was sent to him by his father. It contains only the word âjobâ and a bunch of numbers.
    âCoordinates,â she concludes. âNo background info, no other leads, just coordinates.â
    âYouâre starting to sound like Sam,â Dean scoffs. âBut Dad has never been a man of many words.â
    She agrees with a nod, but then frowns as a subtle grin starts to show on her face. âYou received a message from Erin. Whoâs Erin?â
    Dean looks up and suddenly remembers the text conversation he had with the cute brunette from Waco. Shit! He didnât empty his inbox yet. The things they discussed in those text messages after two nights together is not something he wants to share.
    âGive me that,â he demands, rushing over to retrieve his phone.
    âHi Dean,â she starts reading the text message with an exaggerated feminine voice. âAre you still in town? If so, my place tonight? I want to lick your--â
    Bug-eyed, she reads the end of that sentence, but then the person who it was meant for snatches the phone from her hand. Annoyed, Dean shoves the device in his pocket and strolls to his side of the room where he settles on the floor again. He continues to throw the ball across the small space, letting the same âthud-thud-pauseâ fill the silence. Amused, ZoĂ« monitors his actions.
    âStill a womanizer as ever, I see,â she comments with a grin.
    Dean shrugs, a cocky smile on his lips while he perks one eyebrow.âI canât help it that all the girls like me.â
    âNot all the girls,â she corrects.
    âOh, donât go breakinâ my heart now,â he says jokingly, throwing the ball again.
    The huntress smiles at that and allows a pause to interrupt their banter for a moment, only to give Dean the impression that sheâs letting him off the hook, of course.
    âSo, was Erin any good?â
    She pops the question shamelessly, not a sign of sight uneasiness to detect. Perplexed, Dean looks sideways at the huntress, who is curiously waiting for an answer. He huffs, shaking his head. Did she just ask him if the sex was alright?
    âIâm not gonna tell you that,â he chuckles, somewhat flustered.
    âOh, come on, donât be such a baby. I thought that was a guy thing, bragging about how mind blowing the sex was?â ZoĂ« eyes him, amused, sparkles bringing out the amber shades in her brown eyes. Sheâs cornering him and sheâs loving it.
    âYeah, itâs a guy thing,â he claims, attempting to remain confident. âMeaning we brag amongst guys.â
    âOr,â she rephrases victoriously, â- is it that you donât wanna open up about your sex life with other women to one you hit on?â
    She slams the nail right on the head, because the staggered look on Deanâs face says more than a thousand words. And men think they are so mysterious.
    âI do not hit on you!â he exclaims, his voice hitting higher than anticipated.
    âOh, you were so into me back then,â she says knowingly, narrowing her eyes.
    Dean is aware that sheâs talking about the time that he and his father were working her case. He has to admit - although he doesnât want to right now - that he was hoping for a little fun that week at the Californian coast. When he first saw the twenty-one year old, she blew him off his feet, but he was disappointed soon after when he learned she had a boyfriend, who she was disgustingly in love with. Funny enough he was attracted to her when she was still this normal sweet surf chick scoring Aâs in med school, but now that sheâs a kick ass huntress infiltrated into the supernatural world, bossing him around like sheâs God Almighty, that feeling disappeared. Although he must admit, she looks even sexier than she did back then, riding a Harley and dressed in leather. She matured beautifully. If he didnât know her, heâd hook up with her anytime.Â
    He sighs reluctantly while he catches the baseball and throws it again. âMaybe so. But I hope youâre not presuming I still am.â
    âYouâre not?â ZoĂ« pouts, pretending to be surprised and disappointed.
    âCute,â Dean comments.
     âAnd why this change of heart?â she asks, daring and amused.
    âFace it: Youâre an arrogant stuck-up bitch these days,â he returns, saying it as it is.
    âThank you,â she chirps proudly and not even a bit insulted. âBut you have to admit, youâre not really Mr. Nice Guy either.â
    But Dean doesnât agree. âIâm actually quite charming when it comes to the ladies.â
    ZoĂ« chuckles and clears her throat sarcastically. âYeah, I've noticed.â
    âI said with the ladies, not with arrogant stuck-up bitches,â he corrects smartly.
    The white leather ball, which just came bouncing off the wall again, suddenly gains speed, adjusts course and hits Dean in the head. He lets out a startled âow!â and stares at the round object hopping away from him on the wooden floorboard and then eyes ZoĂ«, who is having trouble breathing while laughing. Despite her injury, she canât help it but to roll on her side and wheeze. She wouldnât give a damn if she turns demon because of these abilities, she loves them. Tears run down her cheeks as she does her best to get a decent sentence out.
    âThat was - that was priceless!â she hiccups.
    âSo not funny,â Dean mutters, rubbing the spot on his forehead where he got hit.
    His glare is answered with another burst of laughter, but she quickly gets herself together. âOh, câmon, Dean,â she chuckles. âCanât I have a little fun before I die?â
    âYouâre not gonna die,â he says determinedly.
    ZoĂ« scoffs and looks away, not convinced by his positive view on the world. âI hate to break it to you, but we are locked in a cabin on a mountain in the middle of nowhere and - oh, right! There are a bunch of hellhounds waiting on our doorstep ready to shred us to pieces,â she notifies cynically.
    âArenât you a bucket full of sunshine,â he sneers.
    âI was a moment ago,â she grins darkly, aiming for the prank she just pulled on him. âIâm not a pessimist, Dean. Iâm a realist.â
    âI donât care what you are. Sam is on his way and he will get us out,â he ensures, trusting his brother.
    âAnd then what? He canât keep us safe from these creatures. I checked everything, thereâs just no way,â she counters.
    Dean keeps looking at her, but doesnât respond. Her emotional state is spiking up and down and he canât really blame her. Heâs trying to keep faith, but when ZoĂ« brings it like that, itâs beginning to sink in that getting these hellhounds off her back might be an impossible task. Sheâs a smart girl, she got a full ride for UCLA. If she says she looked under every stone, she did.Â
    Even though the huntress seems careless when it comes to danger, heâs sure she doesnât want to go to Hell. He saw her response when she faced those pit bulls; they terrify her. ZoĂ« Sullivan is scared to death. Dean takes a breath and allows the air to flow from his lungs again. Fuck, so am I, he realizes.Â
    When he saw those red eyes glowing up from the dark, he didnât see eyes, he saw the flames of Hell. Right then and there, he understood that the road that leads to death is only one path, but thereâs a different exit to take for those who make a deal with the devil. The weak ones, the people who are not willing to work in order to achieve their dreams. The people who take the easy way out, in exchange for a shorter lifespan.
    For a moment he observes the young woman, who stares at the door with a thousand yard stare. ZoĂ« Sullivan, who fights everyoneâs worst nightmares and faces death on daily bases, made a deal. She is the last person on earth he could imagine doing something like that; trading her soul without reading between the lines. Then thereâs the other question; what did she get in return? Money? Her powers?
    âWhy did you do it?â he wonders, unable to keep his curiosity at bay anymore.
    ZoĂ« turns her head to look over, for a moment not sure how to act, let alone reply to that question. He doesnât need to be specific, she knows what heâs talking about. Not intending to answer him, the huntress retreats back into her shell like she has done when he started his interrogation earlier today, but then it hits her. This might be her last chance to have a good conversation, to speak up or pass something on before itâs too late. Maybe even find redemption.Â
    Besides, Dean got dragged into this mess too, thanks to her and a little âhelpâ from John. She has to clear up a few things, she owes him that much. Before she starts talking, though, she reaches inside her jacket and pulls a Marlboro pack from her inner pocket.Â
    Dean watches how she opens it, takes one out together with her zippo, and tamps it in order to condense the loose tobacco. âDidnât know you smoke.â
    âOnly when Iâm stressed and out of comfort food,â she replies.
    Casually allowing the cigarette to hang from her mouth, she protects the lighterâs flame by cupping her hand around it as she sets fire to the end. She closes her eyes and inhales, the air being pulled through the filter flaring up the burning tip. Dean can see she really needed one, because she lets out a satisfied sigh while absorbing the nicotine. Without using words, she holds out the small box, proposing him one.
    He takes her up on the offer and gets up, crossing the distance between them and settling down on the ground next to ZoĂ«. The hunter pulls a cigarette out of the gold and white pack, the blend that ZoĂ« preferes. He holds the filter between his surprisingly full lips while she ignites her zippo, holding the tiny flare in front of the man next to her, the yellow glow complimenting his handsome features. Dean hollows his cheeks as he sucks the air through the tightly rolled paper, the end of the cigarette catching fire. Only then does she lower the lighter, putting it back in her pocket.Â
    Intrigued, ZoĂ« watches him. This isnât the first time he smokes, the way he has the cigarette between the scarred knuckles of his index and middle finger and allowing the toxins to cool in his mouth before he inhales. He lays back his head against the wooden table surface and allows the toxins to flow from his nose, enjoying the flavor of the nicotine. Thereâs something incredibly seductive about it.
    âDidnât know you smoke,â she returns, copying his previous words.
    âI used to when I was sixteen or seventeen, until Dad found out,â Dean tells. âHe made it very clear that if weâd ever get chased down and wouldnât be able to keep up because of my âcharcoaled lungsâ, heâd leave me there, so I quit.â
    ZoĂ« scoffs, not surprised that John would say such a thing. âYet here you are.â
    âYeah, here I am,â he sighs.
    The young woman by his side puts her pack away and stares ahead as the two share a moment in silence, only moving when she has to flick the ash. The question that had her dying for a cigarette in the first place is raging through her mind as she tries to figure out how to answer it best. Why did you do it? Itâs a solid question, of which she has never shared the truth before. After a silence that feels like it takes ages, ZoĂ« finally begins to speak.
    âBecause I was desperate.â
    Her voice is so much more fragile than she ever wanted it to sound. The troubled huntress doesnât look at him, she simply canât. Sheâs ashamed of the fact that she has to explain herself to him, and yet she doesnât regret what she did.Â
    Her only company follows with another question. âWhat did you make a deal for, Zo? What on this God awful earth is possibly worth your soul?â he asks, unable to understand how she could give up something like that.
    She swallows apprehensively; this is gonna be a shocker.
    âMy fatherâs life.â
    Speechless, he stares at her, his green eyes growing large and his mouth hanging slightly agape. The unexpected revelation has him turning his head away from the huntress slightly, his gaze focusing on nothing in particular. She made a deal for her father?
    He goes back to the dreadful day in June, 2001. Dean remembers well what happened to Mr. Sullivan, the unpleasant sight carved into his memories. Four and a half years ago, after a day of shopping on Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles California, ZoĂ« returned home and found her father alone. Somewhere in the big city she got ambushed without even knowing it, by something called a Diligo Vesco demon. A nasty son of a bitch, which feeds on the loved ones of the person possessed. It only manifests when the victim truly loves someone, and Zo sure loved her Dad. In a flick of a switch the creature from Hell took over and viciously killed Mr. Sullivan, after which it returned to its hideout, leaving ZoĂ« in distress over the corpse of her father.Â
    She saw the killing with her own eyes and lived through the horror show as if she was the one committing the murder, but she wasnât able to control her body until the job was done. But ZoĂ« didnât understand what was happening. She had never heard of demons before, she didnât even believe in ghosts. Petrified and confused, the poor girl called her sister.Â
    Abigail knew exactly what to do, though. The family had been successful at keeping the youngest safe from all that is supernatural until that dreadful moment, but the first born Sullivan was well aware of what really hides in the shadows. Back then, she didnât hunt full time, only occasionally picking up a case here and there. Nonetheless, Abi is a familiar face in the business, and the name âSullivanâ sent shivers down creaturesâ spines long before ZoĂ« ever drew her first salt circle.Â
    The huntress knew people who could help her terrorized sister and rang the very best for help; John Winchester. Dean was sitting next to him in the front seat of the Impala when his father got the call. He remembers, because he had only seen him so frustrated and upset whenever the memories of Mary were too painfully vivid to comprehend. The second he heard about Robert Sullivanâs death, he dropped everything and raced to Huntington Beach. It was clear that he knew the man.
    There was no saving Johnâs old friend, though; he was dead as can be. But now ZoĂ« is actually telling him that he is alive and kicking?
    Completely stunned, he turns to his colleague again. âHow did you figure out about dealing with demons?â
    âDad left me a locker which I was only allowed to open if something bad happened. I thought this would be the appropriate time to do so,â ZoĂ« explains. âIt contained just about everything I needed to know about the supernatural. Books, pendants, all kinds of weeds and spices, a key to the armory, locations of the storage units, everything. I began reading his journal. At first I thought he was a part of some kind of cult, that he was crazy, and Abi too. But after what I experiencedâŠâ Her gaze goes blank for a moment, the images she wished she could erase from her memory pushing themselves to the surface. âI knew it was true. So after you and your father left, I started studying.â
    He listens intently without interrupting her. Itâs strange how calm she remains, her voice monotone and her body barely moving. She must be casting out her emotions in an attempt to protect herself. The only sign of her feeling anything at all is a stray tear, clinging to her eyelashes as she refuses to blink, the smallest flutter probably enough for the drop to fall. She sits up a little straighter and continues her confession.
    âI learned about crossroad demons after a few years of hunting. A deal was the first thing that popped up in my head. All I had to do was bury a tin box containing a bit of graveyard dirt, a black cat bone, a picture of myself and some other shady shit in the center of an intersection and I could get Dad backâ, she tells, smiling slightly for a brief moment.
    âI reckon the demon showed up,â Dean presumes, considering the current situation that they are in.
    âHe did, but instead of the usual ten years, I got one. The demon claimed he couldnât bring the soul of a former hunter back for the average price. Especially since Dad had quite an impressive track record on smiting demons.â She begins to struggle now, her voice losing strength. She clears her throat in the hope it will return.
    âI didnât care about the steep price, I just wanted him home so bad. Abi, she, uh - she left, soon after you did, and - and I wanted my family back together. I thoughtâŠâ She takes a shaky breath, fighting the surfacing sorrow. âI thought that if I could bring him back, everything would be alright again.â
    Tears drag a shimmering path in their wake, but she keeps fighting those she hasnât shed yet. Her cigarette, which sheâs almost finished with, trembles because of her unsteady hands.
    âBut it didnât,â Dean assumes.
    âNo.â She shakes her head. âAbi disappeared along with Dad. Everything changed and it wonât ever be the same. When you know--â
    â- you can never go back,â he finishes.
    Dean barely remembers the moment that everything changed for him. No wonder, he was only four years old at the time. But he recalls how devastated he was, having lost so much, his life altered forever. Even at that very young age, he realized very well what was happening. Four or twenty-one; it doesnât really matter. Knowledge like that is destructive at any age.
    He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the floor, glancing at her sideways. âIâm sorry, Zo,â he acknowledges, hoping that him being here will help her feel less alone in the dark world they live in. âI know itâs tough.â
    She bites her lip, unable to accept his kindness. âI donât want your sympathy, Dean.â
    âGive yourself a break here. Youâve been through hell,â he returns, seeing right through the mask.
    âNo, I havenât. Iâm going to, though,â ZoĂ« comments, forcing a cynical smile.
    Dean keeps watching her, though, witnessing how the tough armor of the warrior beside him crumbles. Normally, he isnât good at this. Sam is the one who comforts the grieving, but right now he feels so sorry for her that his hand seeks hers on the timber floor. She closes her eyes when they touch, and remains unmoved when the man who she can resonate with traces her soft skin with his thumb. ZoĂ« allows it, but doesnât want him to go any further. If he pulls her into an embrace now, her fragile, glass heart will shatter into pieces so small, she will never be able to glue herself back together.
    âDonât,â she warns, quivering. âI canât break. I never did and I will not now.â
    Her brown irises have lost their sparkle, the desperation in them scaring Dean. He sees so much pain and sorrow inside the gloom of her pupils, so much he recognizes yet doesnât understand. He thought he had it bad, his mother perished, his Dad gone. But ZoĂ«, sheâs on a whole other level. She actually experienced her father's death, felt his bones break, saw the life leave his body. Like she said; she has his blood on her hands, and thatâs something she will never be able to wash off. Her sister Abigail disappeared from the face of the earth for God knows what reason, and he doesnât even know the story of her mother. ZoĂ« Sullivan is completely alone and has been for more than four years. He himself is going nuts after three days without his brother. How could he impossibly go through life without anyone by his side?
    âYou see, Dean? Do you understand why Iâm careless?â She half shrugs, so much agony in her piercing gaze, that Dean is afraid that the vision might haunt him. âWhy I donât give a fuck if I live or die?â
    His jaw clenches, muscles flexing underneath his scruff. Then he swallows down hard and canât look at her anymore.
    âThereâs no one to stay for, thereâs... thereâs no one left,â she whimpers. âHonestly, I wish Iâd just get killed during a hunt, or get hit by a bus. Iâd rather be dead. I already am inside anyway.â
    She wipes at her face with her free hand and forks her fingers through her tangled hair. Tears mixed with mascara inflict dark lines on her cheeks, reminding Dean that thereâs nothing he can do to help heal these deep wounds.
   Â
    âI just - I donât wanna go to Hell, not after what I did. Can you imagine what they will do to me down there?â she croaks out. âI - I just want this to be over, I wanna lay down and never wake up. I need a break from this constant pain in my chest.â
    She places her hand over her heart, her fingers clenching into a fist as breaths pass her lips hitching, struggling.
    âI just want to die,â she cries.
    This entire time, all Dean can do is sit by her side and listen. So this is her, this is ZoĂ«. All the smartass comments, the sarcastic remarks and clever answers; itâs just a facade. Underneath that costume, sheâs still the girl from California who got caught in a web of tragedies. The torment he is witnessing is unlike any he has ever seen before, the embodiment of pure sorrow and self-hatred. He didnât know a human being could feel like this, and that says something coming from him.Â
    He glances at her again, noticing her blank expression as the huntress stares at the fire. Despite that his conscience tells him to do so, he doesnât lay his arm around her shoulder, nor does he pull her into his chest, simply because she asked him not to. He doesnât want to break her, so he just continues to hold her hand, hoping the connection can offer her some solace. Hoping that she will come to understand that sheâs not alone, not anymore.
    Absent, the huntress stairs at the flames, wishing the ones that once set her heart alight wouldnât have been extinguished by all the horror that has tainted her life. She canât speak anymore, neither can she cry, a numbness slowly taking over her mind and enveloping her in darkness. It baffles her that sheâs able to shed a tear every time she feels like this, because honestly, she thought she ran out of those a long time ago.
Thank  you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee. Link in bio at the  top of the page.
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â ; Hi guys , Today I'm gonna show you about one of interesting sport that I recently know. So that is a KyĆ«do.
What is Kyƫdo???
Kyƫdo , It is a beautiful Japanese martial arts of archery. It originated with the samuria classof feudal Japan and Kyƫdo is pratised by thousands of people worldwide too.
And next I will show an example of the equipments and the clothing that very important when you play a Kyƫdo.
First thing it is a bow in Japanese it calls 'Yumi' you must take care to wipe it well with a dry cloth
And the second one is an arrow it calls 'Ya' this arrow should always be kept in a dry place and wipe it with a dry cloth it is a same method to take care like a bow (Yumi)
And next it is the glove (Yugake) there is 3 types of gloves.
1. For 3 fingers glove. (Mitsu-Gake)
2. For 4 fingers glove. (Yotsu-Gake)
3. For 5 fingers glove. (Moro-Gake)
The last thing that is a string it calls 'Tsuru' before and after shooting it is important to care the string and it cared by rubbing with a woven pad.
And clothing that archer wearing
This is very important to use clothing which is suitable to the time , place and occasion. The archer maybe wearing a kimono (wafuku) or the practice clothing (kyudogi) The color of socks or the other items should be white and clean.
Kimono (Wafuku) & (Kyudogi)
And I know KyĆ«do from one of sport animation that name is 'Tsurune Kazemai Kyudoubu' it is very nice because I got so many information about this sport and I think some people they don't know what is Kyudo or what kind of this sport so I hope you guys will enjoy and know what is a Kyudo. âĄ