supernatural rp

I am looking to get this account back up and running
so if anyone is interested in roleplaying with a Morgana
then please REBLOG or LIKE this post and I will come
follow you and get you a starter up/or come to your ask
to plot.

                  ACCORDING TO MYSTERIOUS SOURCES , EIGHT OUT OF TEN MASKS PURCHASED AT COSTUME STORES ARE DESTINED TOWARDS CRIMINAL ACTS .  to protect your town from the things that bump in the night and save the costume industry , LIKE or REBLOG this if you’d be interested in writing with the purple-obsessed journalist , martial artist and meddling kid DAPHNE BLAKE of the SCOOBY-DOO FRANCHISE .  ps.: scooby snacks not included .


“Let’s understand each other. 

Do not look for salvation in truth. The truth is an empty chamber, waiting to be filled with the worlds of those who seek it. Pray for those pilgrims, for they may not realize when the doors lock behind them.

       On the other hand, I’ve turned rivers into 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉, kings into ᏟᏒᎥᏢᏢᏞᎬs, cities to sᎪᏞᏆ - so I don’t think that I have to explain myself to you.”

                                          ( רוןזש ) 𝓡𝔲𝔦𝔷𝔞, 𝔇, 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔯. 

                                                       𝔖𝔢𝔪𝔦 𝔄𝔘, 


                            𝔑𝔢𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔪, 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔰𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔩 

   | 25+ | Occasionally NSFW | Para & Novella friendly | Dash and IM friendly | 

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“Wow…” Will muttered, breathless and struck by the sheer beauty of his date. “You…Wow. You look incredible.” 

Royalty of Heaven & Hell

Closed RP With @tricksterxangel

The Winchester brothers, Dean and Sam, grew up like no others ever had. Their father was a hunter and a Man of Letters, and their legacy was both; Hunters from the Campbell line (their mothers) and Men of Letters from the Winchester line (their father’s).  John Winchester did his best to raise his kids with the abilities of both sides, and though he’d never intended on becoming a hunter himself, that all changed one night when a demon tried to steal his youngest son, and subsequently killed his wife. 

While this would have normally set a person on the path of vengeance, John was smarter than that and knew driving his children all over the country for one elusive demon would do no one any good. So he took the boys to the Bunker and raised them there.

Sometime around Sam’s 5th birthday, he began to realize he was different. He could sense supernatural creatures in the area, and sometimes he would know things before they happened. He tried to tell his Dad, but John insisted it was all in Sammy’s head. The only person who believed the little boy was Dean. And so Sam grew up learning to believe in his power, learned to control it with only his big brother for help, a child only 4 years older than him. John would never let either of them speak of Sam’s power. Sammy didn’t learn why until his 16th birthday when they’d tracked a demon and some of the blood splattered onto Sam’s body. John was furious. He explained, in a screaming rant that Sam’s powers came from demon blood and he must never let the stuff touch him. Sam and Dean were very careful in their studies on Sam’s power after that. 

Now, 17 years later, Sam didn’t care what anyone thought about him using his power. It was his, and therefore he felt he had the right to use it. He had a pretty good life, living in NOLA by himself. He worked at an apothecary, creating potions and hex bags for the various tourists that traveled to the French Quarter at all times during the year, and his product was popular. Mostly because out of all the stuff available, his actually worked. It wasn’t anything major, his items couldn’t kill anyone, but they worked just enough to have people coming back over and over again. 

It was a rainy Tuesday, cold for New Orleans, only about 65, and he was alone in the shop when he felt it. Since he was about 5 he’d sporadically felt the presence of someone else, but it never felt dangerous so Sam never did anything about it. Today, he was bored so decided to try an experiment. 

“I hate the cold,” he told … whoever, “well no the cold is okay, but this rainy cold windy stuff that just makes you want to curl up by a fire with a book, that I hate. Especially stuck here making love spells.” He chuckled and ran his hands through his hair. He was tattooed just about everywhere, one tattoo from every place he had ever been, intermingled to hide the sigils and warding spells. “Do you ever get cold on days like this?”


i’m a   reckless   mistake  !!  i’m a cold night’s   intake.   i’m a one night   too long,   i'mma come on   too strong.   all my life, i’ve been living in the   fast lane  !!    can’t   slow down,   i’m a rollin’   freight train.   one more time, gotta start   all over  !!   can’t   slow down,   i’m a   LONE RED ROVER.   i’m a hold my   cards   close, i'mma   wreck   what i   love   most. i’m a   first class   let down,   i’mma   shut up.   sit down.  



“Alright you can keep my tie. Thank you.” Castiel followed Dean out, but not before grabbing the hunter’s plaid shirt. When he put it on he left it unbuttoned, not really covering anything, but it felt nice, and it smelled wonderful. He may take up Dean’s offer and keep this one for himself. When the warmth hits his skin, instantly his wings spread out along the ground, soaking up all the sunshine they can get. “I see. I suppose we will have to adjust. I will try my very best to finish my missions as efficiently as possible.” Though if given a chance, he knows when it comes down to it, he could easily abandon it all with one word from Dean. He appreciates that the hunter doesn’t asks him to stay, as Cas would never ask Dean to come with him, but at the same time he wished the hunter would ask so he would stay. It’s confusing, but with the omega’s explanation it makes a little more sense.

Dean pulled Castiel to him, kissing him passionately as he ran his hands over the angel. His instincts were telling him to go with Cas, to demand that Cas stay with him, to submit to the angel’s wants and make the angel take care of his needs. It was how it used to be, in ancient times, and it was how it happened in stupid RomComs where the Omega presented beautifully, submitting to their Alpha and in the end they perfectly blend their lives together. But this is real life, and this was Dean and Cas’s real life, which meant that Cas had to go on angel missions and Dean had to go on hunting trips. 

For now though, Dean was going to take all the time he could with Cas and not let the angel out of his sites. “Yeah, it’s… well, we’ll figure it out.” He kissed Castiel again and smiled. “And maybe I’ll forego the supressants and you can help me out through my next Heat.” He grinned. 

                                  “    I ’ M    G O I N ’    G H O S T !    ”

– I have these powers for a reason

           I can use these powers for good and put a stop to these… ghosts terrorizing Amity Park.            I have a chance to be something… something more, something big. Like a hero, or something.         I feel like it is my duty to stop these things. – like/reblog if you’d like to interact with Danny Phantom! Crossovers and such are accepted. Not selective. written by glen.

anonymous asked:


“Oh… uh yeah, that,” They rubbed the back of their neck. “Well, see. I didn’t exactly create humanity. I mean I set everything into motion, but then I let nature take over and do its thing and the result was humanity. I do admit there are a few design flaws”

They grinned. “Just be thankful I didn’t give you 3 day heats and make humans… what do you all call them? Alphas and Omegas?” They smirked then laughed at the idea, amused.


It was dark and dank and I was sure that this was it, that this was the end. I was going to be trapped in this darkness for all eternity. I felt wood all around me and I began to push. Dirt came down on top of me and threatened to suffocate me. But I could breathe. When I clawed through the final layer of topsoil, I tried not to panic of the sight of the headstone behind me or the dozens of other people coming out of their own graves. 

I just wanted to go home and see my wife one more time.

Life had changed while I was gone. Theresa had gotten older, with more wrinkles around her eyes. For some reason she insisted that no, I never worked as a painter; I was a writer and always had been. But I remembered clearly the day that I fell from the scaffold and never woke up. Not important. What was important was that she was back in my life and I was in hers. 

James’ “Can Opener” device may have brought him and a few others across dimensions, but it has also opened a Pandora’s box of trouble, causing a flurry of magical items to switch over and for magic in both universes to be heavily distorted. A wand identical to your own feels wrong and sparks fires instead of healing; exorcisms are going awry; curses are twisting into gifts; gifts into curses.

This couldn’t be more evident than in the case of an experienced necromancer named Barnabas Fletcher, whose most recent magical accomplishment went horribly wrong. He raised the child he’d been asked to, but when the child opened her eyes she insisted her parents weren’t her parents. They weren’t the only ones alarmed. Dozens of corpses of the dead– most of whom are from Ashford River– have come crawling out of the earth, and along with them a battery of undead monstrosities.

OOC Information:

  • Anyone who was buried in Ashkent Creek or Ashford River is capable of rising from the dead in this POTW– with one exception. We do not want “duplicates”. This means that if there is a living version of a character in AC, the alternate version wouldn’t be able to rise in the same dimension. If this is confusing you can message us with questions! 
  • Some ideas for who you can bring back to life for the POTW: your character’s dead AR family member (or AC if they’re from AR), friends, neighbors, victims, neighbors, etc.
  • We encourage players to write solos (even from the POV of any risen you want), incorporate the POTW into chatzies, and dashboard convos!
  • The risen (as we’re calling them) are perfectly normal and cognizant right now… but give it a week, and that will change, as their body and mind decay and they become aggressive and obsessive, undaunted by pain.
  • Despite the undecomposted state of the risen at present, they’re still being tailed around by dangerous necrophages (use the ‘filter by’ option to see all possibilities).
  • Some of the risen may not be so nice. Ashford River has some pretty nasty species and individuals running around. 
  • In addition to the obvious walking dead problem here, magic has also gone awry. Those who use or practice magic should be having some unintended consequences and effects. Magical objects may also be affected in dangerous ways. 
  • We will be in contact with some players about the resolution to this POTW this weekend!

“Like” this post when you see it!

( group verse ): camp stay puft ;

what do you get when you cross an ANGRY 200-FOOT SUMERIAN MARSHMALLOW MAN with four ( 4 ) unlicensed nuclear accelerators ???

                             community service !
                                                 also: 3,526 s’mores !!

That’s right! Those ghost goobs that your dads think are full-a’-crap are being forced VOLUNTEERING to head a nearby a summer camp! It’s 1986 and your parents are dumping you with these frauds — be sure to thank them! ( & here’s hoping a slimer doesn’t follow them home ).
       There will be 4 cabins ——— there woulda been 8, boys vs. girls, y’know? but it’s not like the government is helping us FUND this damn thing. We better not catch any unscrupulous canoodlers, huh? Your parents barely trust us as it is. But hey, it is the 80′s… ( && here’s hoping the camp isn’t haunted ).
       Kids of all ages are welcome – though it’s not like you have much a’ choice when you can’t drive yourselves home. And let’s not forget we probably need a nurse, head cook, etc; but if you want to age down your muse, who am I to stop you? Just submit the app below [ HERE ] and start posting using the tag gv: camp stay puft ;

preferred cabin: spengler / stantz / venkman / zeddemore
role at camp ( camper? nurse? bug-spray enthusiast? )
favorite camp activity ( telling ghost stories around the campfire? s’mores? spooky tug-o-war? macaroni arts and crafts? ):
bio ( bonus points if it’s written by a parent tbh, not that there are actually points… )

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