Because I Support Y’all And Just Really Like Swords- 

Cole by the window - Tacita Corvus peek

Soon, perhaps too soon, Cole found himself sitting alone in the attic, the moon shinning in the sky. Hours had passed since dinner time, and every member of the Vasily family had gone to sleep. Though, it didn’t much bother the boy that he was left with nothing but the company of Mx. Moon and Ella Froufrou, who was seated comfortably in his lap.

He stared out the windows, gaze fixed upon the winged creatures that slumbered upon the roofs of family’s and lonely people alike. There was a feeling of both uncertainty and comfort in the air, one that Cole was not yet familiar with. It felt strange to be dressed in clean clothes, curled up under a blanket and observing the stillness of Lanercost with a full stomach.

Cole thought for a moment, brows creasing as he searched his memory for what he was looking for. When he found it, he couldn’t help but smirk and let out a satisfied and partly amused sigh.

Nyctophilia.

That was the word he had been searching for. It was a noun, meaning ‘an attraction to darkness or night; finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness.’

He smiled at the definition, though, he then began to chuckle lightly under his breath as he gazed at the stars, having suddenly remembered another bit of information he had gained from the library, just as he had the rest of his knowledge.

He had suddenly acknowledged the meaning of Nyx’s name.

Cole recalled that Nyx was the daughter of chaos, primordial goddess of the night in Greek mythology. Though the name itself leaned more towards feminine, it was still androgynous either way, which was most likely why Nyx had chosen it for themselves.

 Cole gave a small hum into the darkness, he thought it was a lovely name, and even lovelier now that he had recalled its meaning. He hoped that maybe one day the two could find a way to converse, as it was difficult to do so presently.

The boy returned his attention to the town and the candles still burning in people’s windows. There were few, but each one let him know that someone else was still awake, possibly suffering from insomnia, or simply enjoying the nighttime as Cole was.

The boy felt a small pang of something in his chest as he recalled the sounds of the violin he would often hear when drifting off to sleep in the alley of forest row; how the smooth symphony had accompanied the stars perfectly.

Just an amazing comic my an amazing artist 

i can’t stop thinking about @ehlihr‘s teacher!jon au i couldnt NOT draw something for it

Story teller.

I have always loved stories, have always gotten a little thrill out of reading about Neverlands and far away wizarding schools, always searching for an escape. Now, I write, providing others with their own escapes. I write stories of fiendish pirates, poisoning tea with nightshade and sailing the seas to carry on a mother’s legacy. I write of plagues and pestilence, of crows invading the skies and turning them black. I write of an angel loving a human so much that they would fall from the heavens for him, just as Icarus did for the sun. Stories are meant to be shared, fantasies to get lost in... and yet, sometimes I wonder, how far into my fantasies is too far?

Played like a d-mn fiddle.

I really can't express to you how much I love the phrase "played you like a d-mn fiddle"

I don't know why, it's just funny to me to turn to someone who's just been bamboozled, and instead of sympathizing you compare them to an instrument of fools. For example: "...I feel stupid-" "..." "please don't, I'm ridiculed enough-" "He played you like a d-mn fiddle" "I'm leaving you"

Yessssss I love him, look at this beautiful art, at this beautiful manz Look at him

Inventory check: Seth

This is just a small glimpse at some of the things he carries around. He has a secondary bag for other items. (And i got too lazy to draw anything else lol)

He looks so concerned-

I love it when a cat owner says something stupid to Jackson Galaxy and he's clearly having to restrain himself from grabbing them by the shoulders and shaking them violently

I painted a mirror. An eye for an eye, friends.

People

They seem to talk so much, yet think so little.

New journal, new ideas

I got a new journal and decided to turn it into a prince’s journal. Whoever reads this journal next will follow the story of a prince, his lovers, and his decent into villainy and madness- all through the prince’s eyes.

Start of chapter five, Sins of the flesh

Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1274665060-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-5-50s-throwback

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/105834339

----

“Good morning, father Winchester, how was your hiatus?” A young mother asked as Dean welcomed her into the church, her little daughter perched carefully on her hip.

“My hiatus?” Dean questioned, though tried to make it too obvious that he hadn’t any idea what she was talking about.

“Why, yes; your four-month hiatus, to strengthen your relationship with god. How was it?” She questioned once more, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice. “Oh; yes, it was wonderful, thank you,” Dean hummed, doing his absolute best to smile as he continued to greet the guests into the church.

Dean eventually carried on the service, as usual, standing in front of everyone; however, about three minutes into the service he began to struggle slightly. The braille pages beneath his fingers felt foreign after all this time, the words seemed almost caught in his throat but Dean had to push through it, the quiet shuffles and coughs of people in the building overwhelming him slightly.

Near the end of service, the man almost had to have Sam take over, but he was too stubborn to allow it and ushed on; it was a relief when it was finally over, Dean’s energy mostly depleted by the time lunch was served.

“So get this,” Sam announced as he sat down at the table for lunch after Sunday service, the newspaper resting in his lap as he ate. “Apparently, there’s a town in the next state that’s had an unusually high amount of mariticide; nearly a dozen wives in the past two months murdering their husbands, all from the same town,” Sam told them, though Dean was slightly distracted by the sheer amount of noise that the many guests were making.

The many chattering guests mixed with the sounds of his two associates chewing their food, along with whatever other bothers were coming from the forest, the eldest Winchester couldn’t help but be reminded of his time in hell. “That is very odd… do you think it may be worth travelling for?” Castiel asked as he took a bite of his burger, a bit of ketchup falling onto his plate.

Dean shrugged, stuffing a bite of food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. “I think it’d be worth looking around, I'm in need of a good fight,” The priest joked, straightening his posture and whipping his face with a napkin as he heard someone approaching. The person veered away, though, walking off towards some other table away from the priest, his brother and best friend.

“Alright, we’ll leave right after lunch clean-up, then,” Sam settled as the three finished their meals. Dean continued to struggle throughout the cleaning process, his ears beginning to ring and his blood pumping in his ears as he fought off what could only be called a panic attack, caused by overstimulation.