oh my god i'm so sad about this

10

São Paulo, March 22.

1. Battery // 2. Master of Puppets // 3. Welcome Home (Sanitarium) // 4. Fuel // 5. The Unforgiven// 6. Lords of Summer // 7. Wherever I May Roam // 8. Sad But True // 9. Fade to Black // 10. …And Justice for All // 11. One // 12. For Whom the Bell Tolls // 13. Creeping Death // 14. Nothing Else Matters // 15. Enter Sandman // 16. Whiskey in the Jar // 17. The Day That Never Comes // 18. Seek & Destroy.

fiction-is-art  asked:

Imagine Riley getting amnesia, the type that affects most of your memories, but even thought Maya keeps telling her she's her best friend, she keeps thinking they're lovers by the way Maya acts around her and the few memories she still remembers... Just... Imagine.

OH my GOD. 

I mean first of all, Riley losing her memories makes me kind of sad. Like this could easily be an angsty AU, but I’m seeing this as being a super temporary amnesia, because the AU is better if it’s just cute. Let me do a list thing because I don’t know how else to get all of my thoughts out on this.

  • Okay so first of all I’m placing them in high school so it’s easier
  • So when Riley first wakes up in the hospital, naturally, the first thing she sees is Maya, who is sitting by her bedside, holding Riley’s hand with both of hers. She’s clearly fighting to stay awake, but when she sees Riley’s eyes open she sits upright and grips her hand tighter. She’s looking at Riley just like she always does - like Riley is the sun and the stars and her entire world. 
  • Maya, for her part, has been sitting by Riley’s bedside for hours now. Topanga tried to get her to leave and eat something, but Maya wasn’t having it. She wanted to be there when her girl woke up. She was almost asleep when Riley opened her eyes.
  • Riley tries to kiss Maya at least three times tbh I mean wouldn’t you?
  • “Who are you?” “I’m Maya.” “Are you my girlfriend?” “No, pumpkin. I’m your best friend.” “No, I think you’re my girlfriend. You do love me, don’t you?” “Of course I do!” “I think I love you too.” 
  • LOOK obviously Maya’s in love with Riley she’s always been in love with Riley so when Riley says that, Maya’s breath just catches in her throat and she just stares at Riley for a moment, and then Riley smiles like the sun and squeezes her hand
  • Every few minutes or so Riley spaces out again, losing her short term memories as well, so she asks Maya who she is over and over again
  • “How you doing, honey?” “Who…who are you?” “I’m Maya. Peaches. Your best friend, your best bad influence.” “Oh. Why are you looking at me like that?” “Like what, pumpkin?” “Like I’m…like I’m everything.” “I guess it’s because you are…everything.” “Oh.” (Riley tries to kiss maya then, and maya’s like no honey no)
  • “Riles, we aren’t together. Not like that. You don’t want to kiss me.” “How can you be sure?” “You’ve lost all your memories. I’m not going to kiss you. You don’t know what you want.” “Yes I do. I want you.”
  • Maya assumes Riley’s just delusional and doesn’t know what she’s doing. But still, her heart jumps in her chest every time Riley calls her her girlfriend. 
  • (Riley’s heartbeat monitor registers some odd jumps now and then, too. It really spikes when Maya leans closer and gently brushes her hair out of her face and runs her fingertips down Riley’s jaw. Maya assumes its just an inconsistency.)
  • Maya assumes Riley’s just delusional. She’s wrong, though. Really, Riley’s just lost all her filters and is utterly enchanted with the small, beautiful girl sitting at her bedside and calling her ‘pumpkin’ and holding her hand like it means something.
  • “You’re pretty.” “Not as pretty as you, pumpkin.” “I like you.” “I like you more.” “Who are you?” “I’m yours, Riles.” “I like the sound of that. Is it true?” “Yeah. It is.” 

the-spoopy-queen-of-hell  asked:

Okay I'm seriously regretting doing #29, so I need some heart-mending. Do you mind doing #30 as well?

Oh my God, thank you, because my heart was practically ripped out by the time I finished that! And also, I highly recommend you check out @holy-tax-accountant‘s fix-it version HERE as well, it’s gorgeous and amazing and beautiful and I love it! ♥

Warning: THIS IS GON’ BE LONG AND IT WILL START OUT SAD.

30. One headcanon about this OTP that mends it.

Following the events of #29, imagine this:

Sam doesn’t know he long he stays in that position, his head resting high on Gabriel’s chest. It may have been seconds, hours, days. He’s not really inclined to care. But Dean’s name pops up in the back of his agony-hazed mind, and it prods and prods at his brain until he feels that sense of guilt for just leaving his brother at the motel and not answering his calls. Dean ought to be terrified out of his mind. 

It takes some coaxing to get his limbs to move because he’s really loath to leave Gabriel even for a moment, but eventually he lifts himself up, face raw and pinched and stained with tears. Sam sniffs wetly and stands on quivering legs, his palm still cupped gently around the feather. 

Sam makes up his mind. He’s taking both. 

Sam sets his jaw and stares down at Gabriel’s still body for a moment more before he wrenches his eyes away with a pained grunt, and he’s striding hurriedly toward the exit.

Once he reaches the Impala, he notices that his phone is still buzzing in the front seat, the light of the screen vaguely illuminating the interior. It comes to a stop as Sam opens the door, and Sam internally winces as he sees the 32 Missed Calls from Dean bolded across the screen. Quickly, yet so, so carefully, Sam places the feather in the glove compartment, ensuring that there was nothing inside that would cause further harm to it, and he picks up his phone and calls Dean back.

Dean is outraged, and that was putting it mildly. He bellows and yells and screams and curses, and Sam just closes his eyes and leans against the closed Impala door and takes it. Eventually, Dean’s tirade comes to a halt, and Sam takes the minor blip of silence to speak.

“Gabriel’s dead.”

Saying it out loud, as opposed to actually seeing it and knowing it was real, causes something to stir inside Sam. It was real, it was final. The hunter feels his heart contract with a wild bruising grip, and Sam claps his hand over his mouth to hold back the wail that desperately wants to escape. When he recovers, just barely, he can hear Dean’s choppy voice calling his name.

“Listen, Dean, I need you to do something for me.” Sam is walking back up to the entrance of the hotel now. “I’m coming back, and I’m bringing Gabriel with me. No, just don’t! Just – … just do this for me. Please? Distract the front desk when I pull up, alright? Just do that for me?”

His throat closes up at the last few words, and Sam hangs up before he could hear Dean’s response. 

Seeing Gabriel was no easier was no easier the second time around. Sam closes his eyes and takes a moment to steel himself as best as he could with his fraying nerves and emotions, and he once again walks up to Gabriel’s body. Sam swallows thickly as he realizes he could have to pull out the blade, and a fresh wave of heat flashes across his eyes. 

“Okay, c’mon,” Sam whispers to himself, sinking down once again at Gabriel’s side. “C’mon.” He wraps both hands around the hilt of the archangel blade, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. He pressed his lips together hard and closes his eyes, feeling his core tremble. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” Sam yanks out the blade, and the resulting squelch of blood and flesh pulling at metal is hidden partially underneath Sam’s echoing sob.

He cleans off the blade furiously on one of the table cloths that survived Kali’s flames and slides it inside his jacket, and then he balls that sheet and presses it against the slowly bleeding stab wound. Biting down on his lip to quell the rest of the sobs pulsing within him, Sam slips his arms around Gabriel’s upper torso and underneath his knees and lifts him.

It was deliriously surreal, Sam thinks as he trudges toward the exit, carrying an archangel. Gabriel was one of the most powerful beings in existence, embodying the highest of Grace and strength, but he’s so tiny in Sam’s arms. Gabriel is light in death, and Sam clutches even tighter and holds him even closer.

He drives back to the motel with Gabriel lying in the front seat with him. He didn’t want to lay him in the back, and he certainly wasn’t going to stuff his body in the trunk. So Gabriel was in the front with him, his head resting on Sam’s right thigh, Sam’s free hand cupped around Gabriel’s pale forehead and thumb stroking through Gabriel’s fringe.

Dean is waiting outside when Sam pulls in, hands jammed in his pockets and jaw tight. Sam shuts off the engine and quickly takes off his coat. He drapes it over Gabriel’s entire torso, covering the slightly bloodied sheet still pressed against his wound. Gently, Sam cradles Gabriel’s form in his arms and climbs out, tucking the archangel’s face into his neck. As he walks closer, Dean’s eyes go kinda wide but he significantly softens.

“Guy’s asleep at the front,” Dean said, his eyes following Gabriel’s body as Sam approaches. “Got the key though.”

Sam dips his head in acknowledgement and rests the edge of his jaw on Gabriel’s temple, walking with heavy steps into the motel with Dean following close behind. 

In the room, Dean offers to take the floor, but Sam won’t leave Gabriel’s side for a second. He lays Gabriel in the center of one of the beds on top of his jacket, brings up a chair, and sits for his vigil. He can feel Dean’s worried stare digging at the back of his skull, but he ignores it. Dean eventually falls asleep on the floor anyway, but Sam never leaves Gabriel’s side.

In the morning, Dean distracts the man at the front desk while Sam carries Gabriel out. When they drive away, Sam is sitting in the back with Gabriel, the archangel’s head once again resting in his lap. He keeps his eyes down, but Sam knows his older brother is watching him anxiously through the rearview mirror.

“Sam,” Dean says eventually with a sigh. “Sam… we can’t just keep moving him around like this. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do.”

“We’re giving him a hunter’s funeral,” Sam responds decisively. It was a proper send off, one that Gabriel rightfully deserved. Sam would not hear otherwise.

Surprisingly, Dean agreed without a fight, just offering Sam a small nod and a murmured, “Okay.”

And that’s exactly what they do. They drive around and pull over just when dusk was settling in at the horizon. Dean gathers all of the necessary materials while Sam stays right where he had been for the past day, at Gabriel’s side. Soon enough, the pyre was built, and Gabriel’s body was almost entirely wrapped up in the blanket they kept in the trunk. 

Sam feels completely dry. His eyes are dry, his throat is dry, his mouth is dry, everything just feels dry. Numb. Empty. Sam blinks slowly as he reaches out and strokes his fingers across Gabriel’s brow, and he slips the blanket over Gabriel’s face. That had to serve as his goodbye; if he attempted to speak, he wouldn’t be dry anymore, and he couldn’t be able to stop this time.

The fire rises high as it consumes Gabriel, a darkened silhouette in the roaring and bright flames. Sam is still and silent, staring stiffly at the pyre, feeling his eyes burn with the blast of heat of the fire. Dean stands beside him for a while, but eventually he claps a hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezes, telling him he’ll wait in the car. And Sam watches and waits and stares as Gabriel’s body slowly burns away to nothing. Charcoal ashes and smoldering sparks drift through the air, and Sam is thrown back to last night in the hotel, with the ashes of Gabriel’s wings raining down on him.

Sam isn’t sure if it’s that memory or the heat of the flames that causes the tears to spill down his cheeks.


Years pass. The memory of Gabriel still thrums at the back of Sam’s mind, still brings forth a dull ache inside his chest. But it gets a little easier with every passing year that he’s gone.

Until Chuck told them that it was not within his power to bring Gabriel back. That Gabriel, as an archangel and one of the first of God’s creations, was made from primordial energy and rebuilding him was time they did not have.

Scars that had just started to heal burst wide open, deflating Sam’s lungs of all air and draining the warmth from his body. He barely manages to whisper out an “excuse me” before he quickly made his way out of the room on lead legs, feeling Chuck’s concern penetrating his back.

He collapses on his bed the moment he reaches it, placing a firm palm to his chest and breathing harshly through his nostrils as he struggles to compose himself. He was dangerously close to breaking down; he could feel it like in impending tsunami in his chest, building and building and suffocating him –

Sam lightly keens and wrenches open his desk drawer, gently picking up the only source of comfort he would allow at the moment. All these years, he had kept Gabriel’s feather close, and now the charred edges slightly chipped from all this time. Sam never kept it on his person, but he always had it close. When he and Dean moved into the Bunker, the feather was given a permanent residence inside Sam’s desk drawer. 

Sam sighs shakily and sniffs, focusing on the gold center of the feather. It is just as beautiful and glorious as the first moment Sam laid eyes on it, and Sam can feel himself calming down as he loses himself in the gold. 

“Sam… Where did you get that?”

Sam jerks out of his concentration with a hitched gasp and he whirls around on his bed to catch sight of who intruded his thoughts. He can make out Chuck’s openly shocked and slack face in his doorway, outlined with a blur of tears.

“Oh, I just, I, uh,” Sam stammered, blinking quickly and shifting his gaze between the feather in his hands and Chuck standing in his doorway. “It’s Gabriel’s. It… It’s from when I found him… that night.”

A gust of air blew past Chuck’s lips and Sam gave an internal jolt as something akin to hope floods the entity’s blue eyes.

“Sam, this could–” Chuck trails off, stepping into Sam’s room and rounding around the bed to stand at Sam’s front, never once taking his eyes off the feather. His eyes widen even further, and Chuck collapses to his knees, holding his hands out in a wordless act of permission.

Frowning but heavily startled, Sam reluctantly places the feather in Chuck’s hands. “Chuck, what’s going on?”

“Sam,” Chuck breathes. “This, right here…” Chuck strokes faintly at the golden center. “This is what I need. It’s faint, but it’s something. It’s the last trace of Gabriel.”

Sam’s eyes go wide. “You… You mean–”

“I can bring him back,” Chuck finishes, his voice ringing truth and certainty, and Sam feels dizziness crash through his mind at the sudden surge of joyful hope pounding in his heart. “But Sam, for this part, you’re gonna need to step out.”

“No. No, no, no, If you think for one second that I’m gonna just walk out of here while you bring him back –”

Because Sam was so close. So close to finally getting Gabriel back, it was right there in front of him. The hell he was leaving now!

“A seraph’s grace alone can kill you a hundred times over,” Chuck placates with a thin warning tone underneath his words. “If you think you’re going to survive an archangel’s grace intertwined with the power of God, you are heavily mistaken. You’re leaving, and I’ll get you when it’s finished.”

Sam feels a rapid rush of wind strike at his clothes and skin and hair and suddenly finds himself in a deserted town that certainly wasn’t Lebanon before he could open his mouth to protest again. He snarls, but resigns himself to the fact that he’s here and that Chuck would follow through on his word.

“Sam?”

Sam twists around and there’s Dean standing behind him, and some of the anger he feels drains away at the bewilderment crossing his brother’s face. He hurriedly explains what had occurred back at the Bunker and why they were here now. Dean’s face smooths over in surprise and shock and lifts in hope and Sam cannot get enough of that feeling welling inside of him.

Ten minutes later, Sam is pacing, fingers clenching and relaxing, his boots thudding impatiently on the sidewalk. What the hell was taking Chuck so long?

Dean sighs from where he’s leaning against a telephone pole. “Sam, calm down. Chuck says he can bring Gabriel back, and he’ll–”

Dean trails off, and Sam stops pacing. Above them, the blue sky lightens and pales into a sheet of white, glowing increasingly brighter and brighter and brighter – Sam’s eyes began to sting, and the hum of energy swelled through the atmosphere.

Close your eyes and get down!

Sam screams the advice he hears in his head, likely from Chuck, before following it himself, tossing himself right up against the wall of the store they were in front of. He hears the scuffle of Dean doing the same right as his world explodes in a blast of shattering glass that pierces his skin, shrieking energy that makes his ears liquefy, scorching pulsing rays melting his insides –

Then Chuck was in front of him and slapping a palm onto his and Dean’s foreheads. Instantly Sam sucks in a wild breath, the striking flash of agony that he had just felt milliseconds prior gone and replaced with eyes that could see, ears that could hear, and a whole body.

“You wanted to stick around,” Chuck mused halfheartedly as Sam and Dean pant heavily in front of him. “And that was with you both in a city across the ocean and me dimming it down, too.”

Sam gasps, his eyes frantically scanning their environment. They were all standing in front of the Bunker’s entrance. Sam heart kickstarts once more. Beyond that door, down the stairs, down the hall, was Gabriel. Gabriel was in there. 

“He’s there, and he’s out for the moment,” Chuck says as if sensing all the questions and thoughts racing through Sam’s mind. “I’ve made it so that he won’t wake until you get there.”

That makes Sam pause and he frowns at Chuck. “Don’t - Don’t you want to…?”

“I do,” Chuck admits, nodding with a sad smile. “But he won’t want to see me. Maybe later. Right now, he’ll want to see you. So go to him.”

Sam doesn’t need to be told twice and he sprints toward the door of the Bunker.

“And Sam?” Chuck calls out behind him.

Sam skids to a halt and glances over his shoulder, his muscles jerking with the need to get to get to the archangel. Chucks smiles warmly at him and lifts his chin in a tiny nod.

“Take care of my son, alright?” Chuck asks.

Sam’s heart leaps into his throat and he nods without stopping, his eyes stinging with overwhelming joy at being trusted so fully by God in regards to one of his children, and Sam twists around and enters the Bunker.

Inside, Sam practically jumps down as many stairs as he can and twists around to run down the hall leading to his bedroom. 

Gabriel’s here, Gabriel’s here, Gabriel’s alive, he’s alive, he’s right behind the door –

Sam slams into the room, his body strung on anticipation and his eyes wide. 

Gold, beautiful and gorgeous gold, meets his gaze.

“Sam?” Gabriel murmurs, slowly sitting up from where he lays on Sam’s bed. 

Sam loses it. He just loses it. A bout of wild laughter mixed in with sobs bubbles out of his throat and he rushes toward the bed, engulfing the perplexed archangel in a ferocious hug. Sam burrows his face into Gabriel’s warm neck, muffling his emotional outburst, and holds on for dear life.

“You’re alive,” Sam gushes, and tears trekked down his face with a vengeance, seeping onto Gabriel’s skin, and Sam holds on even tighter. “You’re alive. You’re alive.”

Gabriel loses his surprised stiffness by now and wraps his arms around Sam in turn, embracing the hunter fiercely. 

“Miss me, did ya?” Gabriel jokes, his breath tickling Sam’s ear.

Sam responds by pushing himself away only to cup Gabriel’s face, lunging forward, and kissing him. 

It’s a frantic, hard, but chaste kiss, and Gabriel slides his trembling hands up to curl around Sam’s wrists. Gabriel’s lips moving compliantly and earnestly against Sam’s, and Sam feels like he’s been drowning all these years and Gabriel’s mouth is the oxygen he desperately needed and he can breathe.

It’s over too soon, the two of them parting with a clicked gasp, and it’s shaky but Gabriel grins at Sam.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Gabriel said, his brows bouncing and his amber eyes gleaming with painfully familiar mischief and suggestiveness and pure life that was real.

Sam rolls his eyes and scoffs and kisses Gabriel again. And again. And again.


OTP Questions?

Do you sometimes wake up thinking “ah it’s gonna be a good day” and then you think about Barduil or you scroll your dash a bit and something reminds you that Bard is going to die and Thranduil is going to be alone again and suddenly you’re sad? It’s worst when you think about the moment Bard dies and Thranduil is there and he can’t do anything to stop death and oh gods why does it hurt so much

anonymous asked:

CONVERSION THERAPY?! Like that shit still exists? Oh god, I send you thousands hugs and kisses, I'm sorry you still have to really worry about this possibility :/

I’m from a fairly conservative/homophobic country so yeah, i’m sad to say that it does. :/ I’m also upset that that’s a possibility i have to fear, but i have a lot of accepting, loving people on my corner as well so it doesn’t always feel that bad and scary.