unknown-languages

Soukoku Week 2017 - Day 1

Title: but such a feeling persists anyway

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés; Fluff; Company Worker!Chuuya; Job unknown!Dazai; Mild Language; Secret Crush; Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Nakahara Chuuya had a secret crush for this tall, jovial man. He knew it was a lost cause, but when chance to get closer appeared out of nowhere, who was he to deny it?

[[[Written for Soukoku Week 2017 - Day 1: Sartorialism / 「Ah, heart, that believes in others more than itself」 – Sheep Song
(incomplete)]]]

[read on ao3]

Foreign

Plot: Jimin always thought his traditional Korean girlfriend was perfect – that was, until he realized how beautiful foreigners could be.

Pairing: Idol!Park Jimin x Backup Dancer!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Notes: I based this off of every single MTL I have seen of BTS dating a girl of a different race or a girl of color – Jimin always seems to be one of the people who were least likely to date one. I definitely do not think that Jimin is this ignorant in any way. This is only a work of fiction. This is for all the international beauties! 2,536 Words

Originally posted by bwipsul

“Oppa, I’m missing you so much!”

“I’m missing you too, my love. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

One of the worst parts about tour was leaving lovers behind. For Jimin, it wasn’t only his lover, it was his home. He enjoyed tour, performing for all of the ARMYs around the world, going on stage; but he wasn’t a huge fan of being in a foreign country. He didn’t know English that well, and he wasn’t fond of being in a place where he couldn’t understand anything. 

“I know,” The soft voice of his significant other brought pink to his cheeks. “Call me when your rehearsal is over.”

“I will, I love you,” He glanced at the leader of his band, who was calling him over.

“I love you too.”

With that, he had ended the call with a sigh, and headed over to his band. It hadn’t even been a few minutes since he cut the call, and he was already missing her – a thought he had experienced after each long-distance conversation with his lover. The short male shook his head and got his head back in the game, his eyes going up to meet a group of people dressed in black.

“This is your dance crew for this city,” The manager announced to the band. “Not all of them know Korean, so if you have an queries, just talk to Jihoon. He is the leader.”

“We understand.”

Once that brief introduction was done, they were all left to their own devices for a few minutes, whilst the leader of the dance team talked to the leader of the band. Jimin had let himself scan over the people he would be working with; not that he would talk to them, he was just curious and bored. Most of them had masks on – no one had really caught his eyes, except for one person. 

Keep reading

The Devils handwriting, is the only known “Satanic calligraphy ” in existence. The writing dates back to the 15th century, and was found in a book about a mans encounter with Satan. According to the legend the man summoned Satan, and asked to be used as a vessel to record answers to complex questions. The Devi refused, and wrote the answers in an illegible script. The script cannot be deciphered, and there is no evidence that it is a hoax. Modern scholars have pointed out that the characters have similarities to Amharic, a language spoken in Ethiopia. However the script is written in an unknown language, and the mystery of what it actually says is unsolved.

I love languages. I loved learning them since I was little. Here are some quotes for the people who share the same passion as me. :)
 Which one is your favourite?

If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his own language, that goes to his heart.❞ -Nelson Mandela

One language sets you in a corridor for life. Two languages open every door along the way.❞-Frank Smith

❝ Die Grenzen meiner Sprache bedeuten die Grenzen meiner Welt. ❞ The limits of my language are the limits of my world. -Ludwig Wittgenstein, German

Learn everything you can, anytime you can, from anyone you can; there will always come a time when you will be grateful you did.❞ -Sarah Caldwell

❝ Un vocabolario può contenere solo una piccola parte del patrimonio di una lingua.❞ A dictionary can embrace only a small part of the vast tapestry of a language. - Giacomo Leopardi,Italian

To have another language is to possess a second soul.❞ -Charlemagne

❝ یک زبان جدید یک زندگی جدید است. ❞ A new language is a new life. -Persian Proverb

❝ Wer fremde Sprachen nicht kennt, weiß nichts von seiner eigenen. ❞ Those who know nothing of foreign languages know nothing of their own. -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German

You can never understand one language until you understand at least two.❞
-Geoffrey Willans

❝   学一门语言,就是多一个观察世界的窗户。❞ To learn a language is to have one more window from which to look at the world.  -Chinese proverb

Language is the road map of a culture. It tells you where its people come from and where they are going.❞ -Rita Mae Brown

Kolik jazyků znáš, tolikrát jsi člověkem.❞ As many languages you know, as many times you are a human being. -Czech proverb

If you want people to understand you, speak their language. ❞ -African Proverb 

❝ Bir dil bir insan, iki dil iki insan. ❞ One who speaks only one language is one person, but one who speaks two languages is two people.  -Turkish Proverb

With languages, you are at home anywhere. ❞ - Edward De Waal

❝ Kolik jazyků znáš, tolikrát jsi člověkem. ❞ As many languages you know, as many times you are a human being  -Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk, Czech

Learning a language is to understand other;to form connections ❞ -unknown

❝ Notitia linguarum est prima porta sapientiae ❞ Latin. Knowledge of languages is the doorway to wisdom. - Roger Bacon 

Change your language and you change your thoughts. ❞ -Karl Albrecht

❝ Скільки мов ти знаєш, стільки разів ти людина. ❞ How many languages you know, hat many times you are a person.
- Pavlo Tychyn, Ukranian

…and don’t forget;

There are hundreds of languages in the world, but a smile speaks them all.
-Unknown 

Omnia Ab Uno

So, I love the idea of humans being super tough and weird, but I would like to include something to this: before the end of the Paleolithic period, even pessimistic scientific estimates place humans on every continent in the world, save Antarctica (and, let’s face it, we got there as soon as we could survive there). Humans become famous not because they’re durable, or adept at domestication, or even peculiar in social aspects (I mean, they are, but that’s not the focus). Humans go everywhere as soon as they can, and that’s one of their greatest strengths

When Peacemaker had been sent to the Solan Diplomatic Trade Meeting, They had thought it unnecessary. They were a Hive of Tsav, bread for conversing with others by the Rulerhive themselves. A species of single-minded organisms such as Solans should be easy to understand. Then they met their first diplomat. And their second. And their third. As it had never happened in the histories of all of Tsav, they had not considered the possibility that Solans would have not just one “nation” but a total of twelve. It almost desynced their entire hive, and after that they had to check the chemosonic translator at least twice, but their liaison, a smaller Solan named Aliya of the “Mars” nation had confirmed such insanity.

“Oh, yeah! There used to be hundreds even.” the Solan had, almost jovially, informed them. “We expanded really fast in our early history. Caused a lot of problems in the short run, but [unknown translation: different language] and all that.”

Peacemaker shivered, shocked. This was the most advanced translator for both their species! It should translate any of the major Sol languages (they realized the importance of that pluralization now). They floated their confusion to the Riley, who apologized and quickly typed out the phrase on a tablet to show them (they thanked their foresight in learning at least the written language of “Westcommon”) while explaining.

“It’s a phrase in a language nobody can really speak anymore from one of our greater pre-steel empires. It has a sort of double meaning, actually, but the primary use is ‘All from One.’ It’s meant to be a unifier, saying no matter how different we seem, we are really similar. We’re all Solans, humans, and call this system our origin, if not our home.”

“Was this a problem?” Their eyedrones drifted to the smaller human, who fiddled with the geometric pendant around their neck.

“It… had been. For the longest time. Wars were fought, people hated, forced out, slaughtered even, but we’ve jumped stars to get where we are, and we make sure we never go back. Hence the saying.” Aliya (Peacemaker quickly recalled they were told to identify her as “she”) blinked to pull up her Eyescreen, then tensed. “We are going to have to hurry to meet the ambassador from India. How fast can you travel roughly… a kilometer? 1.27 macrospans?”

They considered the calculations, then drifted their answer. “3.41 atomicycles. 2.56 minutes, we believe? I am not sure if your species can keep up to that?”

Aliya fang-flashed him (the Solan “smile,” strangely enough meant to ease concern. Even Tsav Hives found it intimidating, however). “I was the best full-organic 5k sprinter before I was issued my upgrades. I can do it in two minutes even.” and with that, she ran off, keeping her watch on Peacekeeper as they flew after her. They considered the writing of the phrase, and brought it up on their info-packet implants from the Rulerhive. the phrase, Omnia Ab Uno, was from a “nation” that had conquered almost a quarter of their landmasses and had bloody betrayals with almost every new ruler, to say nothing of the phrase itself. It had in fact come to mean “All from One,” but, during the Unspoken Wars, it had started as a rally cry among their warriors. “To The End! To The End!” Ever present was that note of violence, even in their words of peace. Peacemaker shivered at the thought, and severely hoped they would live up to their name in these meetings.

Submitted By: @thefangi

So I have a headcanon that lance use to help his mother out around the house, mostly with the cleaning. And I somehow got this, so I hope you enjoy. This is mostly lance being buddies with the lions.

——————-

It was his mother that got him started.

She would always need help with it, not that she was fragile, she’s anything but. But that doesn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy the help, especially with the cabinets and bookshelves. And Lance didn’t mind at all. He loved helping his mom, and cleaning up the house was just one of the things they could do together. Sure, everyone helped out, but it was always Lance who didn’t it without being asked.

And after a while, it became sort of a coping mechanism. Whenever Lance felt overwhelmed, or if his anxiety got to be too much. You would always find him doing dishes or vacuuming. It was therapeutic in a way. It was something that he can control, that got him out of his head. His mom always told him “a clean house is a happy house.”
It may be overused, but to Lance it always made sense. If the house is clean, then everyone inside the house is happy. Even him.

Lance never realized how much he relied on his family. Always making something to clean up. Always keeping him busy. But now that he’s out in space, on a giant castle ship, with only six other people. Lance can’t help but miss it.

at first Lance worked on his room. Mostly dusting, and rearranging his drawers. But after the tenth time rearranging everything, Lance realized that he couldn’t clean his room more if he tried. So he moved on to other rooms. Within two weeks, every room in the castle had been dusted, vacuumed, mopped, swept and picked up as need be. The castle was spotless. And Lance felt better. He always did after a good cleaning session, albeit a long one. But it was nice. It reminded him of home; of some normalcy in what is now his life.

But soon the anxiety and the homesickness came back. But there wasn’t really anything to clean anymore. It wasn’t like there were hyperactive kids that will knock things over anymore. There wasn’t anyone constantly making a mess. There wasn’t anyone constantly cooking up a storm , sure,Hunk is always cooking, but his moms taught him well on keeping a kitchen clean, so Lance didn’t really have dishes to clean. He’ll, even their laundry is done by the castle, no help needed there. He remembers when he use to get pretty mad at his family whenever they would create a mess. But now…..now he just wishes he had something to clean. To remind him of home.

Lance was climbing out of blue, feeling a bit down for the count after a nasty fight with the Galra, that unfortunately when through some kind of space mucus ozone that surrounded a moon they were fighting nearby that got all over the lions, gunking up a lot of their movements. Thankfully it did the same to the Galra fleets, so it wasn’t that hard to beat them after that. But Lance could practically feel the stuff, and he wasn’t even the one covered in it. After taking a good look at Blue, Lance knew that he had to get all that mucus off of her. If it was messing with her movements now, he didn’t even want to know how bad it would get once it hardened. After hijacking Pidge’s latest project(a set of goggles that can translate written Altean into English, he has to give her props, this is some of her best work.) he found the right soap to use and even some wax that he can use afterwards. Blue was going to be the best looking Lion around. And he got to work. He scrubbed every inch of her till he was sure that all the hunk was off, and even asked her multiple times if he missed a spot. Who told him about every missed spot or hard to reach place. Once he had finished washing off all the mucus, he gave her a much needed waxing. No one could deny that happiness that Blue felt all throughout it and afterwards. And Lance finally had something that he could clean when everything got to be too much. They were both very happy.

It became a regular thing, after that. Whenever he had too much on his mind, Lance would go down and work on Blue. Whether it was the outside or in the cockpit. There have even been a few times where he would work on her maintenance system, but only if it needed fixing and Blue has to walk him through it. And he would talk to her, about everything and anything. About things on Earth or his family. About the others and planets that they have saved. And Blue would listen to it all, very story about when he was little and every worry that plagued his mind. She would send him support, and love and tell him that she was so glad that he was her pilot. They were both happy.

But then things started to get kinda weird. It seems that while Blue was flying just as smooth as ever, some of the other lions were having problems with certain maneuvers and actions. Which definitely slowed down their progress of freeing the galaxy. But the weirdest thing is that the other Lions started to show up in Blue’s hangar whenever Lance went down there to talk with Blue and clean up whatever was left on her from the last battle. At first they would just sit outside of her hangar, not really pushing but definitely making he know that they were there. But it was the Red Lion who got sick of sitting around, she had butted her way into Blue’s hangar and sat next to her. And That was when Lance saw it. Dried Mucus. But that battle was months ago. Lance couldn’t help but get mad. He went to check the other lions, and sure enough, there was still dried mucus and other markings from past battles littering the Lions. No wonder the other lions couldn’t do maneuvers anymore. There was still gunk clogging up their joints and maybe even in their hydrologics. Lance patted Blue on the nose and apologized, saying that he might not be able to clean her today, because there is no way he’s going to let the others stay like that. She sent him warm understanding and told him that the other lions were very grateful that he was doing this for them.

It took him two days of no sleep and barely eating to get all the lions completely cleaned and gave each of them a waxing that had them shining like stars. All the while, no one had gone to check up on him. While that did sting, it was probably for the best. If he had seen any of the others, he would have gone off on them for leaving their lions in such a state.

Soon, the other lions became part of his routine as well. Cleaning the cockpits, washing and waxing the exterior. He was really surprised and honored when Blue told him that Black asked if he could help with his control panel.( it seems that Shiro and Black Had taken a nasty hit during one of their recent battles and Shiro got thrown against the panel.hard.) It was confusing at first, and the damage was more serious than he thought, but thanks to Blue relaying everything Between Lance and Black, he was able to fix him up without much trouble. Without even realizing it, Lance had started talking to the other Lions as well. It started off as complaining about how the others don’t clean them like they should, if ever. But soon enough he was talking to them like he does with Blue. And while he doesn’t hear them respond, Blue does relay any messages back to him.

Lance never realized how close he had gotten to the other Lions until after a pretty nasty battle against some sort of squid Robeast. Blue and Red had taken a lot of hits to keep the Galra off of Green who had taken a nasty blow, making them power down. In the end they were able to beat the robeast, but Lance knew that he was going to have to buff out some dents on Blue and Red. Lance had just gotten done with buffing out a pretty nasty dent in Red’s armor, that Keith came into Red’s hangar. And it seems that Keith was not happy to see Lance there.

“What are you doing?”

“Um…”

“Get off of Red. Now.”

“But I’m not do-”

“She’s not your Lion. Get off her. NOW.”

That was when Red put up her barrier. Keeping Keith out. Lance couldn’t help but snicker. Because now Keith was yelling at Red to let him in. And apparently he was losing the argument, because the barrier didn’t go down at all. It didn’t even waver when Keith decided that hitting it would get his point across. That was when Lance felt Red give off a kind of purr, at least he thought it was Red. It was probably thanks to Blue, telling him that Red wanted him to keep doing what he was doing. So Lance went on to the next one, and next one even with Keith telling him to go away. Even after Keith left the hangar. And even when Keith came back with Shiro and Allura in tow.

“Lance?” Lance looked away from his work and looked at Shiro, who looked just as confused as Allura. All the while Keith is behind them, just as mad as when he came in.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Buffing out dents. I saw that Red and Blue had some pretty nasty one after the battle.”

“Ok……and why are buffing out the dents of the Red Lion?”

“Why don’t you go and do that on Blue then!” Ah, and there is Keith. Lance was wondering when he would butt-in.

“I already did Blue’s.” Ha, suck on that, Keith.

“But why are you doing Red’s, Keith could have-”

“No. he wouldn’t.”

Lance climbs down from his spot on the Red lion and heads over to Shiro and Allura. He stopped just at the edge of the barrier. Now he could really see that Keith did not like being called out.

“You don’t know that!!!”

“Yes. I do.”

Wow, Keith REALLY didn’t like being called out on this. But this was going to happen sooner or later, lance is just surprised that it took them this long to realize it.

“Lance, you can’t just clean another Paladin’s Lion.”

“Why not. I do it for all the lions.”

“Wha….what?”

“I take care of all the lions. I buff out dents, I wash off gunk, I even clean the cockpits.”

They all look at Lance like he just talked in an unknown language. the fact that Lance has been doing this for all the lions seems to come as a surprise to them. Even Keith lost his anger and is looking at Lance like he’s the 8th wonder of the world.

Allura is the first to get back some sense of her voice, quietly asking lance “and they let you? Do all of this?”

“Let me? They almost shoved themselves into Blue’s hangar hoping I would see how much work they needed. Red actually did!” Lance points back to the Red Lion, who still keeps the barrier up, if only to tell Lance that there are still some dents that need to be buffed out.

“How…how long have you been doing this?” Shiro’s stutters out, still trying to get a grip on the situation.

“I don’t know……maybe a few months? At least two months.” Lance said, trying to recall how long he’s been cleaning all the lions.

“You’ve been doing this for that long and never asked us to help? Lance, while the gesture is nice, we can clean our own Lions.”

“Apparently not. You guys didn’t even clean off the mucus gunk from MONTHS ago! How did you guys not realize that the reason the lions were slower to respond than usual was because they could barely even bend their joints! If you guys won’t even clean them when they OBVIOUSLY need it, then how can they trust you guys to buff out a few dents!”
Lance said to much. He realized it as soon as it was out of his mouth. He just called out, not just Keith, but ALL of them. That was not how he wanted the conversation to go. Wow, was the that floor panel always so interesting, because there’s no way Lance is going to look them in the face after that outburst.

“Lance….I’m sorry.”
Well that definitely got lance to look up at Keith, who actually looked sincere. Lance can’t remember any time Keith has been sincere, well yes he can, but never to Lance.

“I haven’t really been the best when it comes to taking care of Red. But you don’t have to do it anymore. I’ll-”
“Woah! Woah, Keith you don’t have to apologize to me about it. Maybe Red, but not me. I love cleaning the Lions. And while it would be nice it you guys helped out once in awhile, I don’t want to stop cleaning them.”

“Wait, so you actually like cleaning them?”

“Yeah! It reminds me…..it reminds me of home. I use to help my mom with all the cleaning, so being able to do this, it…it helps with the homesickness.”

Lance couldn’t help but get a bit flustered saying it out loud, but he needs to let them know that he enjoys doing this for the lions. He enjoys being able to do this for them. He doesn’t want to stop doing this. He can hear Blue purring in the back of his mind, letting him know that the other lions enjoy it just as much as he does.

“Still, You shouldn’t have to do this….. At least not by yourself. They are our lions. But if it means that much to you, I guess we can’t really complain. Especially with all that you’ve done for them.”
Shiro gestures up to Red.
“But, you shouldn’t have to do all of the work, Lance. It’s not fair to you, or the lions.”

Lance nods. He knows that Shiro is right, but he also knows that the lions can be kind of picky about how they get cleaned. For a bunch of robot lions, they are really vocal about what they like and don’t like. And this just means that Lance is going to have to teach the others about each lions quirks when it comes to keeping them clean.

“How about I finish up here and everyone can meet up in the break lounge, then we can talk more about it.”

“Why not go now?”

“I’m pretty sure Red isn’t going to lower the barrier until I’m done.” Lance stares up at Red, as if staring at her long enough will make her put down the shield. It does not. So win a wave to the others, Lance goes back to buffing out Red, with a much brighter smile than he’s had in awhile.

Sure, Lance loves being able to take care of the lions. It reminds him of his mom and his family. It reminds him of home. But the one thing that makes it even better is when others are doing it with you. It helps bring people together, to talk and bond with each other. And if Lance was being honest, he missed that most of all.

Linguistics in DGM

So I know I’ve seen it said somewhere that the exorcists would probably speak multiple languages (and by extension so would… pretty much everyone in the Order tbh).

I imagine it’s a bit of a headache if you’re a newcomer. The Order doesn’t really seem to think too much about its members unless they’re super important, after all, so I doubt they’d provide much by way of lessons.

So you get to the European headquarters and you’re just immediately bombarded with hundreds of languages. One man is shouting at another in German. A woman walks by, greeting you in Greek. And maybe you speak Spanish, but you’re not from Spain; you just transferred over from the North American branch and you can’t decide if the man speaking to you is using idioms from other languages or if that’s just slang in Spain or, hell, if it’s a slang term exclusive to the Order itself because the Order is just a huge blend of languages swirling together, so that could happen.

Please give me Lenalee speaking German or Russian—you know, one of those languages perceived as intimidating. Really, she’s being perfectly friendly, but you don’t understand what’s being said. Trust me, there’s nothing more intimidating than your German-speaking relative bellowing how pretty you are in German and you not understanding (although I highly doubt Lenalee’s going to be bellowing in German).

Please give me Allen trying to fluster some poor schmuck in a game so he just switches languages and starts speaking one of the Latin languages like Italian and it works because of course it does. It’s Allen for crying out loud. When that boy wants to charm you, he is going to charm you—even if it’s in another language.

And you can generally tell how long someone has been at the Order by how many languages they speak or even how garbled their accent is from picking up so many other different accents.

But wait, what about the Clan? Do we think about them? There’s literally thousands of years of memory stored there, guys. You can bet they speak lots of languages.

Sitting in on a dinner with the family might be fun; they might start speaking some ancient languages completely unknown to the world. Or maybe Bondomu starts shouting in an obscure, old dialect of Japanese.

Tyki answers in the same dialect and then looks confused because he most certainly doesn’t even know Japanese in the first place but Wisely just tells him that yes, that is a thing now.

But sometimes, sometimes when things get really serious, Adam will start speaking Hebrew and everyone will get very, very quiet, because that’s the language of the original scripture—Adam is speaking of the past, and their hearts ache when they think of what happened to them, what the Innocence did.

The Daqri Qube™ provides ground-breaking 360 degree coverage with four built-in optical cameras, two infra-red sensors, two motion-tracking rangefinders, echolocation, and a short-burst X-ray emitter capable of penetrating a seven-inch lead blast shield.

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The Daqri Qube™ is compatible with a wide variety of connectors and communications protocols, including USB, wi-fi, FireWire, serial port, point-to-point laser communications, telepathy, and dripping messages written in blood that spontaneously manifest on the walls. Additionally, from time to time it emits a low, ominous chanting in an unknown language. The meaning is as-yet unknown, but our top linguistic engineers are exploring the exciting business uses.

The Daqri Qube™ is ergonomically designed to be comfortable for long periods of use, with cushioned handles, a carrying strap (sold separately,) and seventeen separate mucous membranes to provide ample hand lubrication at all times.

The Daqri Qube™ has been cleared of all charges in the 2015 Alabama Chicken Farmers Association v. Daqri 5th Circuit Court case. However, we are legally obligated to inform you that the Daqri Qube is known to display erratic behavior when insulted. Until this minor design flaw is corrected, all new orders will include a tub of Qube Pacification Ointment, free of charge.

The Daqri Qube™ has a battery life of up to seventeen hours under normal conditions, and can be recharged in the field with standard USB battery packs or by leaving it on an obsidian plinth during a solar eclipse.

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—  the project manager sent us a message asking us to look up something named the Daqri Qube for him, aka google it for him. I sent him this and he thanked me for being the first person to give an actual answer after reading the first ten words or so.
There's always that one freshman

That one who sings in the shower. Maybe they forgot the Rules or maybe they think that running water will keep them safe.
The ones that sing old lullabies and folk songs are usually Taken, but those who sing hymns or country are always left alone.
Sometimes, if the singer is returned, they continue their shower serenades, but with the ability to sing duets by themselves, or they sing in an unknown language that makes you want to sing along. Those that do end up biting off their tongues.

Lesson 7: Demons

By: Admin Vorst

Live class date and time: To Be Determined

Demonologist, demonolator and Satanists.

Demonologist study demons.

Demonolators study demons and worship them as divine beings.

Satanists adhere to Satan and or may not include demons in their religion or practice.

These terms can overlap,but don’t need to.

With this I’d like to quickly introduce myself. Hi, I’m Vorst and I’m both a Satanist and a demonolator, though Satan is my God, above everyone else. I’m also oath-bound to Him, which means I’ve promised to worship Him my entire life.

With this a warning: don’t make oaths for the fun of it. Changing your mind can happen, and in experience: neither gods nor demons will take kindly to oath-breakers.

Where does the word ‘demon’ come from?

The word comes from the Ancient Greek word 'δαιμον’, which the Romans also wrote as 'daemon’ later on in their own literature.

The meaning of the word 'daemon’ is: a spirit between gods and Man. You can see that the Greeks nor the Romans ever saw daemons as malicious spirits.

That changed with the rise of Christianity and Abrahamic religions in general. In contrary to Roman tactics, some of the now newly conquered Christian countries slowly began to forbid and shun any worship of gods and spirits outside of their own pantheon.

To the eyes of the Christian in these places, foreign beliefs were seen to be evil, corrupt and disfigured. Their gods being viewed as evil beings, out there to ruin people’s lives. They were to be portrayed as such that no one would ever want to associate themselves with these deities, and so previously normal words to describe certain entities had now gotten a sinister meaning.

That is the reason why people in modern times have taken it upon themselves to use 'daemon’ again instead of 'demon’, to distinguish themselves from the people who see them as solely malicious.

What are demons?

In modern shows and TV-series most hold on to their favourite stereotypes: terrifying evil creatures constantly possessing humans. In the more obscure films and media forms, they’re starting to slowly get to the truth of demons, usually portraying their wit and intelligence. This is most likely due to Christianity becoming less influential - and the fact that controversy is a great hit in everything.

Darker parts of the human self. Our darker emotions, such as fear, anger and sadness are seen as our personal demons. But also addiction, violent behaviour and sexual acts, as demons themselves are often associated with exactly these. These inner demons, as they are called, are obviously not the demons I will be discussing.

In reality, the entities known as demons are spirits and/or gods from ancient times. Most of the time, however, there is a line between when an entity is considered a demon, and when a god. Satan, per example, is referred to being both “the God of this world” and the king of demons. Some say he is not a demon, and some say he’s a demon but not the leader.

Another example of this is Astarte. Both seen as the female counterpart of the demon Astaroth, but she is also known as the Middle Eastern goddess Ishtar, worshipped from the Bronze Age in the ancient Levant among the Canaanites and Phoenicians.

Another example being Beelzebub, the Lord of Flies, as Biblical scholar Thomas Kelly Cheyne suggested that it might be a corruption of the name Ba‘al Zəbûl, “Lord of the High Place” (i.e., Heaven) or “High Lord” - a god previously worshipped.

The line between whether demons are gods or spirits is fairly vague. It is also worth noting that some have mentioned that some, like Astarte, might take offence to being referred to as a demon, so do be aware when contacting them and ask them what they want to be referred to as.  

Possession.

When people do feel like they’re possessed it’s usually either that they’re not well in touch with their inner selves, or that they’re influenced by negative energy of maybe a spirit. Though it is far more often the first scenario that’s causing the sensation. Of course, this excludes people with mental issues, who I advice to seek professional help in these cases. Also, therapists can help too.

Are demons evil?

Demons are as equally evil as gods are, as demonolators see them as divine beings. We all know gods of war, and yet they were worshipped. We know of gods who have murdered, assaulted and committed various human crimes and were and/or are still worshipped. There are various reasons for this, one being that gods can never be wrong, as they are not bound by human rules and transcend human morality. This, however, is more of a philosophical idea so I will not elaborate on that now.

Because demons are often portrayed as having characteristics similar to humans, one could never fully call a demon solely evil, nor could they ever be solely good.

This will probably make you wonder:

Is it reasonable to fear demons?

Absolutely. Whereas not per se evil, all are capable of acting hostile - this being their one trait everyone agrees on.

Demons are ancient and powerful entities that often care not for human problems. They often view humans as either acceptable or downright worthless to them.

And why would they in any other way?

In most religious practices, a god grants a human their prayer to come true when the human has presented themselves favourable to said god.

In the case of demons? They require no worship. Some gods don’t need worship either, but in the case of demons they appear completely separate from humanity. Despite that, as demons are closer to the raw core of human emotions than the general god would be, demons feed on the strongest of feelings: sadness, anger, fear, love and happiness. Demons are seen as spiritual predators in this regard.

As they require nor seem to desire an active response from humans, they are not inclined to mix themselves with mortals.

This does not mean a demon will never be genuinely kind. They will be. But do note that demons are skilled tricksters in getting what they want through fake promises and sweet lies.

When assured a demon expresses interest, kindness and acceptance a mutual agreement can be agreed on.

Banishing a demon?

So before I go into working with them, I’ll discuss how to get rid of them. First of all: ask them to leave. Be polite. Maybe they’re just simply approaching you.

If that does not work, try salt or spells to make others distance yourself from you.

You could also try and evoke another authority figure, like your god, to protect you.

Don’t engage them in a fight. Antagonized demons are the last you would want.

Working with demons?

Demons are wise teachers and are willing to share their secrets when either politely asked or forced to do so.

Either way seems to work fine, and have different names as well.

Evoking a demon is the act of forcefully conjuring a demon in your space, as in shown and described in the book of the Lesser Key of Solomon.

Invoking a demon is the act of inviting a demon in your space. You leave it up to the demon whether or not they show up.

The latter is obviously far more polite; modern demonolators prefer that one and I will be discussing that one the most.

Invocation differs from person to person. But, I will now state the general idea of doing this safely.

Always go for an invocation and never an evocation. This is personal advice. Demons will not be pleased if you force them. When casting a circle, during invocation the demon will be inside the circle together with you, with positive energy.

During evocation, the demon will be trapped inside the circle, the person outside looking in. Honestly, it’s terrible to start an acquaintanceship like that.

In order to prevent antagonizing the demon, be polite and go for an invocation. An invocation can be as difficult as you want it to be, in its simplest form it can even be as small as a prayer.

In my case, I cleanse my room, surround myself with a mental barrier (or through a smell I associate with Satan) where I invite the demon in. Then I draw a general summoning circle in the air. This can be done with a ritual knife, athame, wand or you hands. When using a sharp object do remember not to stab it in the air as if it’s an attack.

We don’t tend to attempt to knife our guests.

Afterward, or during, I say the Enn for the specific demon I wish to invoke.

Enns are short sentences in an unknown language, claimed to be demonic, of invitation, admiration or requests of protections. There are various theories on how they were found. The first demonolator who wrote them down was Alexander Willit in the 16th century. Later, other demonolators used them in their practice too. We know it is a language, with grammar, but we do not know the grammar itself yet. We do know the meaning of some sentences. Because we know little, we also do not know how to correctly pronounce these enns. Say it how you want.

Some examples of this language and their translation: “Ganic Tasa Fubin Flereous” could be translated as Fire protect the flame, Lord Flereous, per example. Another example is the enn for Barbatos, which is: “Eveta fubin Barabatos”.

After that, I go and meditate until I feel a presence. When I do, I politely try to communicate with the demon, mentally or verbally. There are various ways a demon can show itself depending on your spiritual state. Experienced demonolators reported manifestations so strong they initially thought someone had broken into their house.

When done, I thank the demon and end the invocation. This can be as simple as saying goodbye and as complex as an entire ritual. Do what you feel works best.


Originally posted on another blog, it was moved here.

handgranade-punksprinkleddonuts  asked:

RFA+V and Unknown learning MC's language from them (I thought it would be cute seeing them trying to pronounce words correctly aaaAAaA my babies) *nostalgic flashback to the we're all italian meme for some reason*

(the italian meme… abuelita nuggets… nuggy…. all these flashbacks…)

Yoosung

  • he tries his Best
  • mixes up all the words all the time
  • mixes up his school subjects in too somehow?
  • he’s good at listening and pronounciation tho
  • writing and grammar not so much
  • but he does learn pretty fast since he loves the teacher (MC teacher of the year 2k17)

Jaehee

  • she’s super excited
  • she knows a good amount of languages, but just… the business vocab and stuff
  • this would be the first time she learns from a native person for casual talking
  • takes super neat notes in notebooks she got especially to use in MC’s class
  • best student

Zen

  • he’s always willing to broaden his horizons!
  • he never really got into foreign languages because school just wasn’t his thing
  • luckily, MC can adjust their teaching methods with him so it’s no problem
  • such a fast learner? like once he gets the hang of it MC is almost afraid he’ll downright forget korean and start speaking only in the new language

Jumin

  • he’s got all the reasons in the world to ask MC to teach him tbh\
  • not only for similar reasons as Jaehee, but because he’d love to have a class that felt… nice
  • a class that felt not like some old tutor paid some money to sit in a room and make him read, but a class by someone he knows loves him and wants to teach out of their heart
  • he always brings snacks to class tho
  • tfw ur boyfriend brings caviar to “class” but u just wanted to teach him ur language

707

  • He will not tell MC that chances are he already knows the language
  • instead he’ll play along and let MC teach him
  • and at the end of the week he just.
  • switches languages
  • like MC thought he was getting the hang of verbs and this dude just wakes up one day and decides he won’t speak a lick of korean that day just MC’s native language
  • needs to chill severely

Saeran

  • tries to super advance MC’s teachings to impress them
  • considers duolingo or smth but eventually decides to use a book because he’s not too sure about how effective an online course can be compared to how fast MC can teach him irl
  • he doesn’t manage to advance
  • he just confuses himself and MC has to end up explaining the difference between verb tenses and prepositions or something after he tried to read a whole book on the language in one sitting
  • also needs to chill

V

  • MC realizes that if all students were like V they’d absolutely be a teacher
  • seriously
  • he’s patient. a hard worker. always happy to learn
  • MC once joked that they’d leave homework for him
  • he did the homework
  • he advances at a normal rate but honestly MC is just so pleased with how easy he is to work with

A collaboration between myself, and @varvau

Story is conveyed and built with uncountable methods. A creator’s ability must transcend the Great Lie into Great Truth through varying degrees of Originality, often misidentified with the expression, “Everything’s been done, nothing new.” Lottery ball machines are, mostly, identical but their drawn numbers are unique. Traditional weddings in the Americas happen every week; no two are exactly the same. Originality concerns execution, not the fact something exists. With execution comes perspective. 


Ponder the story above. It is about trade, or is it? Certainly a subject, this trade, for an exchange of items is quite occurring. One could prattle endless an account of these creatures sharing daily trade with nothing more said. If that be the inclination expressed, all within earshot must question the extent of that speaker’s exposure to other cultures and their varying forms of relaying information. 

“But, this is a piece of fiction, it’s not serious!” speak many detractors of those seeking to create stories and worlds for a living, and later express devout love for, you guessed, another work of fiction. Twelve years ago, as of this writing, I was told by a doctor, who knew me since Grade V, my pursuit in creating stories and worlds was a “fantasy”, that I should speak with her whenever I “wished to return to the real world”. Quite, she did not believe in the profession of writing in general. Her entire practice depends on literature. That she worked with youths only increased the importance of fiction in their development—yet there she was, advising someone against creating new things, and making their own life decisions. I had, some years earlier than this encounter, decided for myself the what’s-to-do. I’ve not revisited that doctor, and never will.

Works of fiction are quite real for their creators, and some refer to their work as children. Readers identify with fiction for various reasons, and to them it may be more real than what is. A fictional world can be fabulous or grotesque, and still escape from ugly reality. Experiencing a foreign culture grants the same effect. One can tell a good story alone, a great story set in a well-designed world, or if they choose: deliver an immersion in time and place. The decision depends on goals.

Suppose you were dropped there, in that market, without knowledge of local culture, and didn’t die of shock at the sight of non-human beings, who bear likeness to our feral beasts, engaging in very human-like behavior. They don’t speak your language, no guides exist in your first, second, third, or any language familiar. Perhaps, you’re a linguist and realize none of their languages match recognizable lingual families.


In your face there’s scent as language, unless they’ve come to ignore or subdue natural body odor as humans did. It doesn’t factor within your ears, the possibility they employ hypersonic and subsonic sounds humans cannot perceive without specialized equipment, but—oh dear— you’re not naturalist with such equipment or deign leave a comfortable living for work in the middle of nowhere without many modern conveniences.

You quickly realize they posses no mobile phones, digital music players, any sort of advanced electronics, the internal combustion engine, telegraphs and wire transfer, gas lighting, and manure piles in the streets from who-knows-what that pulls their carts—if they did, then a copy- paste from the human world they wouldn’t be. How ever will you survive when so much isn’t

standard for your time and place? Maybe you should “try everything”, the worst advice ever given, except on desperation or a four-for-one sale at Inspired By de Sade. Following it may result in your demise.

The Didelphimorph on the right sells textiles and foodstuffs. Isn’t that nice? But…can you eat, let alone touch it? Is the Caniform vulnerable to certain foods the other may consume without problem? We’ve plants here, on Earth by example, quite hostile. Nasty little things like Gympie (Dendrocnide moroides), a perfectly normal horse-killer from hell that inflicts enough pain victims prefer suicide. Or, perhaps, your fancy is Manchineel (Hippomane mancinella), the adorably named Beach Apple. That one, dear, is truthfully a botanical death machine: a drop of moisture runoff from this tree blisters skin and corrodes automotive paint. Do you want to blister skin and corrode automotive paint? That’s how you blister skin and corrode automotive paint.


And don’t even think about the water. Travel between countries on your own planet, and you’ll find water of varying qualities to which the local population is immune, but you are not.

Your advantage is disadvantage. For the purposes of this example, they’ve no idea you’re even present. And, in regards to this specific civilization, where would you be without Jerome and myself? We’re to blame for dragging you into this otherworldly soiree where you’ve stuck a spoon in the ceiling but hey, you’re still alive. What’s mundane and automatic for this place is unknown for you: a language of Color, Shape, and Posture.

Let us start with the Caniform left, so eager to spend money. Upon his cape are two layers. Green, in local culture, is life and fertility while Brown’s is commonality of the every day. Technically, it is an off-white baize, but still counts as Brown.

That he wears a cape, not a tunic, tells of simplicity, good spirits, and the colors that he is newly wed and possibly expecting to become a father or has adopted a youth. The ceremony was not extravagant, a casual affair with a small number of close friends and relatives. Take note: local culture. His own native, that he’s possibly abandoned, may not define marriage in the same way, or practice it. Their definition of the “family unit” having two parents may not be.

Continuing down to his pantaloons, here again Green, and White. He comes from a lineage of relatively healthy individuals for legs carry the continuity of bloodlines. White is preparedness, but may speak inexperience and innocence towards the large change in his life. The Black tassels on the closure of his satchel indicate he contemplated life behind a sword; that they dangle free means he chose against, for warriors don’t wear needless items an enemy could grab and use against them.


On Shape, the leading edge of his cape being that color proclaims he’s nothing hidden and the vertical lines in his pantaloons speak twice: Green for a very stable family with little to no internal drama. White for a family young, perhaps 1-3 generations old, not big enough for a massive number of non-immediate members. 

On Posture, outwardly it is engaged in business. His open paws forward money and show he intends no harm. That he stands over the Didelphimorph is protection—he’s watching for anyone who’d steal. If he were bent, leveling their eyes, then an abrasive or unfriendly challenge it would become.

The Didelphimorph also wears a shade of White upon his legs, inexperienced where he is, possibly having moved from another region, or country, and is learning this new place. 

Upon his tunic is the survival and security of Blue. By wearing it close to his face, he proclaims status as a merchant who will not price gouge, dependable with good reputation of maintaining stock, and believes in honesty first. The shade lacks vividness; he is not fond for usurping local government. Here, wearing complete vivid blue on more than 25% of one’s clothes is punishable by execution. The golden bangle indicates prosperity, and that he recently wed.

On Shape, the off-white motif of an arch on the tunic suggests inexperience or preparedness in one particular aspect. The style refers to a building designed for residents, and he has acquired a living space. However, in local mental health definitions of shape, it means “halfway to stability”. This creature suffered from something tragic or debilitating in his past, but has over come it. That the arch is placed on the sleeve indicates confinement of some kind, either physical or social. The leading edge, also of the same color, reinforces his honesty as like the Caniform’s cape reinforces simplicity. Upon his bangle, the circle in his native culture describes a marriage under strict contract, the addition of ovals define immense flexibility within that contract.

On Posture, that his eyes are not on the Caniform entrusts he won’t be attacked, and accepts the other’s protection. They are likely very familiar with each other for the money is not set upon any surface, but held. The Didelphimorph, what most would call an opossum, does not have naturally exquisite eyesight. He’s near sighted, the Caniform knows it, and is aware his kind are mostly nocturnal yet the mid-day sun is high. Here is a merchant pushing his work hours into time of day when he should be asleep.

Bonus Material: The Red Textile

On Color, Red is power, therefore anyone who wears or places for decoration expresses it. Yellow carries various definitions, among them wealth. Black is self-moderation.

On Shape, triangles are important. The diamonds consist of two incomplete triangles, a sign of wealth shared, not hoarded. A bearer gives money to richer folk for investments in various causes, pays their fair taxes, and also gives to the needy below. The inverted, incomplete Yellow triangles near the Black X’s tell of one who gives more to the needy than to the rich. The Black X’s themselves are not viewed as two intersecting lines, but four incomplete triangles, designating establishment of inner peace. The Black Zigzag references inner peace despite unpredictability in life while the Yellow lines around it carry a second, separate definition from the above: financial stability is nearly unbreakable no matter what problems arise. Triangles without bases represent openness and invitation.

Bonus Material: The Money

On Color, the government that issued these notes considers all money equal, no matter who and what circumstances it derives, according to Brown. This includes money from illicit activities with varying stages of illegality and socially negativity. As long as it is legal tender, the government attaches no moral stigma to inanimate money even if it punishes the crime and may deal in shades.

On Shape, the rectangle declares stability of the mint, and the circle is “unchanging”. This society does not rate its money vs. others, being the prime standard. It sets boundary that it does not tolerate counterfeiting, punished by execution for the rectangle is also a block.

Unrelated factors aligned over many centuries, coming together at that precise instant and place, themselves forebears of the future in every aspect where physical and social sciences interact.  

This is World Discipline, more commonly known as Geography. Words are not required, though certainly they help. Walk into a bar in the United States, expect a full serving of beer as the definition of good service, and half considered bad. In another country, let alone world, a full serving of beer may be a local means of saying one should drink and leave, whereas a half- serving means stay: enjoy yourself, and what this place has to offer.

2

What happened at Footlights Ranch?

Olivia Mabel was a doting mother to Aiden, and a loving wife to Travis. The family lived in a sprawling ranch, known locally as Footlights about an hour north of Dallas. In 1990, Olivia’s world came crashing down when Aiden died in a freak accident, drowning in the garden pond. Feeling remorse and sorrow, Olivia fell into a deep depression and began to cut off all family and friends. This eventually led to Travis divorcing his wife, and Olivia was left all alone at the ranch. She was last seen alive in September, 1991.

Some two years later, police received four 991 calls from the property. All calls were silent, but operators noted that was a distinct “click” of the phone being put down abruptly after a minute or so. When officers were dispatched to the scene, they were horrified by what they found; Olivia’s badly decomposed body was sat upright in a chair, in front of a homemade shrine to Travis. She was holding a voodoo type doll and was distinctly malnourished.

The shrine was made from an old toy box with a duvet stretched over it. The top had been adorned with flowers, candles, and several pictures of her deceased son, but weirdly, there were words written in an unknown language. The police had to consult experts in order to translate the words, and it turns out Olivia had written in the ancient language of Sanskrit. The writing translated to English as “construct” or “to build.” How did a single mother learn Sanskrit? A note found near the body read: “My Aiden, I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry. I should have never let it get like this. I’m leaving. I will not let you keep me you ViLE, EViL CREATURE. Mommy’s coming for you, Aiden, my sweet Aiden. Mommy loves you.” This case is shrouded in so much mystery. Was this just a woman plagued by mental illness following the death of her only child? Or did something darker happen? Police are still investigating.

Princess Caraboo

Edward Bird (1772–1819)

Princess Caraboo of Javasu was an imposter who both captivated and fooled Bristol and Bath society for 10 weeks in 1817. She spoke an unknown language, actually gibberish, and indicated by signs that she was a person of rank from the East Indies (modern Indonesia) who had been captured by pirates. Her fanciful clothes are just as she described them to the family with whom she stayed. Before her final sitting with Edward Bird for this portrait she was exposed as the eccentric daughter of a Devonshire cobbler.

Bristol Museum & Art Gallery

Babysitters - Destiel Imagine Request

Request:  I want to request for a fic .. destiel fanfic where sam de-ages and turns into a baby and dean and cas take care of him and oh my god while doing it for a while they finally confess their feelings for eachother

Characters: Destiel, Sam, Rowena (mentioned), Mary (mentioned).

Word count: 2,554

Warnings: Unedited.

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote a Destiel fic, so I’m excited yet scared about this one, because I don’t know if I fully captured each character’s escence (mostly because I get caught on the fluff). Hope you enjoy it!

“Dean, he won’t stop crying!” Cas complained as he tried to calm Sam down.

“He was always a cry baby..” Dean mumbled, taking his brother from Castiel’s arms.

The thing they were hunting, whatever it was, turned Sam into a baby before escaping. Therefore, Dean and Cas had to take care of him while they found a way of turning him back to his real age.

“Think we should call Mom?” Dean suggested after Sam stopped crying, “I mean she said she missed baby Sam and…”

“Dean.” Castiel spoke in a warning voice, “This isn’t what your mother meant.”

“I know, I know… I was just…”

“Give her time.” The angel interrupted softly. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, a gesture they were both familiar with for it was Cas’ way of showing empathy.

Dean nodded, getting lost in the angel’s blue eyes until an awful smell reached his nostrils.

“What is that?” Dean shrugged.

“I think Sam evacuated.” Castiel said, wearing his usual squint.

“I’m not going to change my brother’s diapers again!” Dean fumed.

“Again?” Castiel squinted even deeper, reading Dean’s mind.

When Sam was just a baby and Dean was just a kid, John would leave them at another hunter’s house or even at a crappy motel, which ended in Dean having to change Sam’s diapers for nobody would.

It was a sad memory, but when were Dean’s childhood memories happy?  He had been alone, with his baby brother as company, growing up faster than anyone should. Castiel acknowledge his pain, taking it as his own.

“We’ll do it together.” The angel stated. If Dean’s feelings were loneliness when remembering said moments, Cas would try and make him company.

-

“Okay… Let’s do this.” Dean mumbled as he started changing Sam’s diaper with expert hands.

If Dean were a doctor, Castiel would be his nurse. The angel made sure to hand Dean any kind of supply he needed while the hunter did his job. Yes, there were some disgusted smirks from each, but they were done in five minutes.

“There you go, buddy.” Smiled Dean as he fixed the diaper for Sam to be comfortable.

Sam stood quiet and even smiley for longer than Dean expected. However, he was still a baby and, in no time, he was crying once more.

“Let me.” Castiel begged, taking Sam in his arms.

Dean sat down at the table in the war room, researching for a cure or at least any spell to age Sam back up. He was focused on the screen until Castiel’s low voice reached his ears, drifting any other thought away.

Dean stood up and walked to the next room where Cas was rocking Sam softly as he sung something in an unknown language. Dean stared in awe.

Once Sam had fallen asleep, Cas looked up at Dean. The angel blushed, unable to control his human vessel as he would like to, making Dean giggle.

“What?” Castiel asked in a rather grumpy voice.

“Nothing.” Dean smiled cheekily, “I didn’t knew you enjoyed singing.”

“It’s a lullaby in Enochian,” Cas explained, “We sing that to new born angels and kids that go to Heaven.”

“Whatever it means, Sam seems to like it.” Dean said, walking closer to the angel until they were side to side.

Dean looked down at his brother. He barely remembered how tiny and innocent Sam was when he was that age. The angel, on the other hand, had his blue eyes focused on Dean’s features, a habit he had developed over time.

“Do you like it?” Cas asked, emphasizing the second word. Dean looked up to his angel, freezing for a second by the intensity of his gaze.

“Yeah.” The well-known sex tension rose again. Both men staring deeply into each other’s eyes, their breaths mixing with the other’s as the rest of the world disappeared for the moment.

Baby or not, Sam hated that tension. They were always too scared to give the next step, leaving the whole room into an aura of tension and stress. He wanted to push them – they were so close he could easily make them kiss IF he was a grown up; but he wasn’t, and his frustration got expressed by a loud cry that took both men’s attention away from each other.

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean asked in his motherly voice.

“I think he is frustrated, except I don’t know why…” Castiel calmed the baby by pressing two fingers on his forehead. “Tell me, Sam, what’s wrong?”

The exchange was far from strange to Dean’s eyes. Castiel would hum in response while Sam just stared at him. Yes, there were gestures and even slight movements from Sam, but those were the usual “baby” ones.

After a few minutes into the talk, Castiel’s cheeks turned bright red as his blue eyes widened. Dean tried to ask him about the reason to his sudden behaviour, but the angel only replied with a “I have to go” and the sound of his wings flying away.

Dean sighed heavily; he hated when Cas disappeared without any explanation. Then, he looked back down at his brother who, in spite of being a baby, gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t look at me like that, Sammy.” Dean begged, only to get a baby bitch face from his brother. “You’re a bitch, you know that?” Baby Sam tilted his head, “We’ve talked about this, Sam.” Dean growled.

-

It had been around three hours since Castiel disappeared. Dean had managed just fine, in spite of getting into silly arguments with his literal baby brother. Yes, he had cried with him, he had tried singing rock songs as lullabies and even tried to blackmail him into behaving… Of course, nothing worked as good as Cas calming Sam down, either by using his angelic powers or singing that Enochian lullaby.

“Sam…” Dean grumbled as baby Sam gave him another look, “No… I… Fine I’ll call him.”

Dean left his brother in bed. He was so tiny in comparison to the humongous bed he would use before turning into a baby, that Dean stared in awe for a whole minute before going back to his real task: Calling Cas.

The hunter placed both hands in place as he looked up to the ceiling. “Castiel,” he spoke, “I pray to you because I’m tired as hell and I’m pretty sure he wants you because you’re a definitely better baby sitter than I am and…”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel spoke as he appeared in front of the hunter.

“Good to see you,” Dean smiled for a second before returning to his serious gaze, “why did you bail out on me?”

“Sam uh… He said something that required me to take some time away.” Castiel explained.

“What kind of things?” Dean inquired.

How was Castiel, an angel of the Lord, supposed to explain to Dean that his baby brother could tell how much in love he was with the hunter? It was insane! And not because they weren’t allowed (which they weren’t unless they got a special permission), but because Cas knew how Dean felt about angels.

“Private things.” Cas mumbled.

“Well, Sammy wants you here and I don’t know why.” Dean grumbled, gesturing towards the baby lying in bed.

The angel approached him, analysing his features and, presumably, reading his mind.

“Sam says he wants to listen to music…” Castiel squinted towards Dean, “I don’t understand why he would need me to come if you can play music for him.”

Dean felt a burn inside of him. Not because of Sam, but because he had just realized that he was the one to want Cas around, and his unconscious had betrayed him by misinterpreting one of Sam’s bitch-faces.

The angel walked over to the bureau, from which he took Sam’s phone. He searched for the music app and started playing it at a mild volume. Sam smiled and then fell asleep, like nothing had happened.

“You’re tired.” Cas observed as he turned around to face Dean.

“Well, my second in command flew away.” Dean complained.

“I’m sorry.” Cas apologised. Dean shove it off with a hand gestured and then both men went down to the library.

They sat down, one next to the other, to rest a little until Sam cried again.

“Was it easier when you were kids?” Castiel asked, breaking the silence of the room.

“Well, no… It’s kind of like the same, except now Sam seems to be less heavy.” Dean joked.

“That’s because you’re grown now, and have developed strength enough for Sam to seem lighter.” Castiel explained, like Dean didn’t know that already.

“That explains a lot, thanks.” Dean replied, acting like it was the first time he heard that. He knew Cas still didn’t know when a person knew something or not, as well as other things, so Dean would make it easier by following the angel. After all, it made him happy.

“Did you have to change another diaper?” Castiel continued to ask.

“Yup… A bunch of them, actually.” Dean replied, “It’s not the same without my angelic assistant.”

Castiel blushed lightly, looking down to his fidgeting hands. Dean followed his every move with loving green eyes.

“I won’t bail on you anymore.” The angel promised.

-

“I asked Rowena to come.” Dean informed as Castiel appeared in Sam’s room. The hunter looked worried.

“You must be in a real hurry… What happened?” Castiel asked concerned. Yes, he could hear Sam crying but it was nothing he hadn’t done before.

“He’s got a fever and I don’t know how to treat a baby’s fever… If he were older, I would just push him into an ice cold bath and give him a pill but…” Dean’s green eyes were full of fear.

“It’s fine, I’m here now.” Castiel comforter as he reached towards Sam’s forehead, curing him immediately after his fingers touched him.

“Thanks.”

Castiel put Sam to sleep, asking Dean to go to his own room and get some sleep. “I’ll take care of him” the angel promised, but when it came to Sam, Dean couldn’t rest until he was sure his brother was fine.

Castiel eventually appeared in Dean’s room. The hunter was wide awake, walking around the place nervously.

“How is he?” Dean asked.

“I cured him completely, and now he is sleeping.” Castiel explained.

“But what if he gets hungry? He is the kind of dude that snacks at midnight and…” Castiel hushed him by pressing a finger over Dean’s lips, a gesture he had never used before.

“You worry too much.” The angel remarked, “He will be fine… My only concern for now is you.”

“Me?” Dean hissed, “I’m good! Sam’s should be your only concern now! HE IS A GOODDAMN BABY!” Castiel nodded patiently.

“I’m aware of your brother’s sate,” He spoke, “but you are no better.”

Dean huffed in frustration. Yes, he was feeling like crap but he was sure that it was only because Sam was still a baby and Rowena was late.

“You’re stressed Dean.” Cas observed.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean replied sassily.

“I’m Castiel, not Sherlock.” The angel squinted but shove the thought aside, “You’re always taking care of the others, and you never worry about taking care of yourself.”

“I don’t need to be taken care off.” Dean argued, but the angel had his mind set and forced the hunter to lie in bed.

“Just rest,” Cas begged, “I go this.”

-

“Why isn’t she here yet?” Stormed Dean as he entered the kitchen.

“Why are you up?” Replied Castiel.

Dean looked at his angel. He was hiding something behind him, and he looked guilty as ever.

“Why aren’t you with Sam?” Dean inquired angrily.

“Sam is safe; I just came down to…”

“You were supposed to be with him!” Dean interrupted angrily.

“He doesn’t need be to watch him all the time!” Castiel replied in the same tone.

“HE IS A FREAKING BABY!” Dean insisted.

“I understand your concern, but he is fine. Trust me.” Castiel begged patiently. His voice was so soothing, it made Dean forget all his worries. “I got you some pie.”

-

“Why is he crying?” Dean whined.

“I don’t know… He is just crying for nothing!” Castiel answered.

“You drama bitch!” Dean hissed at his baby brother who was crying like he was being tortured.

“Dean, don’t call him that.” Castiel begged. Dean sighed heavily and left Sam in bed, then stood up and found himself face to face with the angel.

“I don’t know what else to do, Cas.” Dean confessed in a trembling voice.

“We’ll find a way.” Cas promised.

Another strange gesture followed, for Dean held Cas’ hand in his tightly. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hold hands in the past, but this was different; it wasn’t a handshake, or a high five, less to say a grip to save the other’s ass from falling from a rooftop. It was different.

“Thanks.” Dean melted, allowing Cas to take full control of the situation.

Cas pulled Dean into a not so friendly embrace, his mind thinking of any kind of solution possible. He had tried using his powers, but Sam kept crying like it was the end of the world; Rowena hadn’t arrived and Dean was a mess… Castiel had to think fast.

“Some parents leave the baby to cry, because they know he will get tired and stop crying at some point.” Castiel spoke. Dean looked up at him with redden eyes.

“Let’s try that.”  Dean tried to smile in vain.

They weren’t going to leave Sam alone because he was literally rolling from one side of the other in bed, which could end up in him falling. However, they did ignored his crying – which was really hard for Dean and his soft heart.

“It’s fine, he’ll stop.” Castiel repeated over and over again as he pulled Dean’s face away from Sam. “Dean, look at me.” The angel begged.

“My head aches.” Dean confessed with a weak smile. He was finally adjusting to Sam’s crying.

“I can fix that.” Cas offered, but Dean shook his head.

“It’ll go away.” Dean stated, “So this is what real parent do, huh?”

“I believe so, yes.” Castiel replied, trying to smile back at his hunter.

“Does that make us good parents?” Dean inquired jokingly.

“I guess it does… I mean, only if you want to.” The angel replied shyly.

“I do want to…” Dean spoke softly.

Suddenly, their eyes were connected and the tension was back in the air; except this time it didn’t last much. Before they could process what was going on, their lips were over the other’s, both of their scruff finding a way to become one as their arms wrapped each other.

They broke the kiss, blushing like never before. Suddenly shy, suddenly happy – it felt like the right thing to do. Their minds were so focused on each other, they didn’t realized until later that Sam was no longer crying; instead he was staring at them with a big, toothless grin on his face.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean mumbled, unable to hide his growing smile.

“Guess we know now why he was crying.” Castiel shrugged.

“Yeah.” Dean looked at his angel, holding his hand tightly.

Yes, they would be great parents one day.

Hell (Chapter Two: What will we do without her?)

Summary: Y/n Singer, after selling his soul to save Sam’s life, has accepted her destiny (or maybe not?). But her family doesn’t.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (not yet, but soon)

Word Count: 3K (approximately)

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: So here I am with the second chapter! Did you like the first? Yes? No? Let me know. For now, I hope you like this!

Hell (Chapter One: Fair Exchange)


Three months.

Three months have passed since Sam came back. And I only have nine.
The motel we’ve stayed in is in a desert place. Bobby, my father, found a case somewhere in Nebraska. From the information he has given us, this is definitely some demons.
Our job was to prevent the doors of Hell opening. We failed. We managed to close them, but it was too late; enough demons had already emerged to create even more chaos in the world. The only positive thing is that Dean and Sam had their revenge. Thanks to Colt (the gun that can kill any supernatural creature), they have finally made out the demon that had killed their mother, Azazel.
I roll into bed. I look at the alarm on the bedside table: three o'clock in the morning. I don’t feel tired, and lately I don’t even sleep. Perhaps, knowing the exact day of your own death has this effect. Beside me there is Sam, who deeply sleeping belly up. The lesser of Winchester didn’t take long to discover why he wasn’t dead; since Dean told him, Sam spends all day on the books, to find the solution to my “problem.”
The same thing my father does, after having repeated a few times that I’m an idiot.
I get up from the bed calmly, trying not to wake up Sam, I go over the other bed where there is Dean lying belly down, who sleeps beatily. I look at both of them, and then I go out.
The air is dull, and fortunately I’m not dressed very heavy. I ride somewhere between the cars parked, and when I see the Impala, I sit on the hood. Lately I often do it, sit down and look at the sky.
I’m strangely passionate about the stars; there are so many in the universe, and some of them are already dead, but we still see them still in the night sky. This is how I feel: a star already dead, but for others still shines. But a dead star remains dead, it doesn’t return to life.
“Try not to scratch her.”
I look down and meet Dean’s face. His green eyes look at me carefully, while I still think of his voice. God, I hope I will not forget it when I’m down there; it might be the only thing that will keep me.. myself.
"Why are you awake?” I say with nonchalance; three months now I try not to show my feelings. I don’t want them to worry more than they already do.
“Why are you awake?”
“I didn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
“But if you slept like a jumble!”
Dean doesn’t answer, and looks up to the sky, surrendering.
“I heard you go out, and I wanted to see if…”
“..I was fine. Yes, they are three months that you repeatedly asked me.”
He approaches the car and leans back against the passenger door.
“Sam and Bobby will continue to look for something, do you know?”
“True, but they will not find anything.”
“You can’t know.”
His voice has changed, now it is more serious, more.. angry?
I know for sure they will not find anything, the demons are not so stupid. I try in every way to accept what will happen to me, while they do nothing but believe false hopes.
“You know what? Let them seek well; I gave up when the demon disappeared from that crossroad. And frankly, I don’t care. For me the important thing was that Sam was fine. The rest doesn’t matter.”
Suddenly, I feel pulled to the legs, and opening my eyes, I find Dean’s eyes on mine. He’s so close to me. Too much. With his hands clenching my knees, and I believe that my breath is getting more and more absent.
“So your life counts nothing?”
I look at him in his perfectly green eyes, and his jaw covered with a light beard. And his lips, which I can’t take from my head.
Don’t react. No emotions.
“At this point, no. Don’t you think?”

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I love the melody of an unknown language, the strange food, all the surprises of a strange town, and my own impatience and curiosity … I love traveling as others love the gaming table; I anticipate a new place as others anticipate the next number to come up.
—  Elsa Triolet