10 years ago today, filming began on a brand new series of Doctor Who, starring Christopher Eccleston as the Ninth Doctor and Billie Piper as Rose Tyler!
can I passively aggressively point out the way the shot is set up to make both of them equal including cancelling out the height difference and you really couldn’t tell who was meant to be the main character by looking at this photo? (Because of course they’re both the main character and of equal importance rose tyler Ninth doctor (via pygmy-of-triviality)
Thank god now we have this!
at least up until recently they were looking into the camera like they had some sort of determination or at least interest in the action instead of just spacing the fuck out
I am a reader. I am a writer. People assume I do these things to escape. You couldn’t be more right. I’m escaping a world I don’t like. A world I have no control in. In this world, I am nothing. I am a color, a height, a weight, a number. But in the world of books and writing, I am amazing. I am powerful. I am different. People are better. Worlds are endless. Change is possible. Life is manageable.
He could feel it. The thrumming cold beats of power pumping through his body. He felt free. Where there once were emotions and a soul holding him back, there was a vast, empty space of nothingness now – a black hole ready to consume everything good and turn it into dust.
Oh and he enjoyed it.
He drank, he had sex with women and even men, he drank more and he killed. Sometimes all at the same time. He was high with the screams of his clueless victims, which fell for his looks and charms. It was rush of blood and pure power.
But he felt something calling for him. In the distance – weak but steady. Something familiar, but he couldn’t point his finger on it. So he went looking. The last thing he remembered was a bright light before he lost his conscience.
Devilstrap. He had build enough of them in his time as a hunter to immediately know what happened to him and why he couldn’t move.
He heard noises. People talking, worried. He held his eyes closed so that they wouldn’t know that he was awake.
“Are you sure?” It was Sam – his little brother. He grinned inwardly. So he could talk his way out of the trap. Convince him that he could be saved and when he would free him, he could kill him. It was perfect.
“I’m sure. There isn’t anything in the world which is more important for me than to bring him back.”
That voice belonged to the angel. Castiel. Cas. Something stirred in the depth of the darkness inside him. A strange feeling in his stomach, which made him feel sick.
“Thank you, Cas. Really. I can’t thank you enough.” He heard rustling of clothes and heavy footsteps hastily retreating from the room. A door was closed and Dean knew he was in the bunker’s dungeon.
Dean looked up and nearly choked. He was ready to taunt the angel before him but he wasn’t prepared for the sight he got. Castiel was surrounded by a warm, bright light. A light that reached out for the darkness inside him and try to brighten places where it never should go. Dean felt his darkness recoil under the bright blue eyes which gazed at him so openly. He felt small, ashamed. Feelings he thought he had lost when he was reborn as a demon. Was this the power of an angel? Was this the reason most demons were terrified by them?
Dean looked at the floor. He just couldn’t look him in the eyes. This was torture. He didn’t want to feel anything. He wanted to be free. Free of his guilt, his feelings.
“Dean.” A soft hand touched his bound one.
Dean gasped when he felt the warmth spreading from the touch through his body. It felt like a fire, warming and waking every cold cell from a long winter sleep.
“Go away.” It sounded even weak for his ears.
“Dean, look at me.” The deep voice was commanding and Dean could feel himself looking up without willing it.
Castiel’s hand touched his face and Dean feared the angel was going to kill him. He squirmed under the contact tried to pull away from the soft and warm touch. The memory of another time long lost in his past as a human.
“I will save you, Dean.”
“No, please. Go away.”
“I need you…”
Dean’s head whipped up.
I need you.
Memories flooded his head.
He was kneeling in front of the angel. Blood running from his face and the angel blade shone brightly over his head.
I need you…
A light clang when the blade was dropped to the floor. A warm hand on his cheek and warmth spreading through his body, healing and taking away the fear.
“Everything will be fine.”
Dean watched as Castiel took his angel blade and started to cut a symbol in his chest. Blood was tripping from his body – his unbuttoned shirt hung loosely from him. The white color soon was soaked in dark red.
“What are you doing?”
“Close your eyes, Dean.”
“Cas? Tell me what you’re doing?”
“I’m going to save you.”
“There is a balance in this universe. An angel’s light for a demon’s darkness. My light will brighten the darkness inside you and your human soul will be reborn.”
“What will happen to you?”
Castiel hesitated before he answered: “I don’t know.”
“You’re a liar.”
Cas grinned a bit: “Look who’s talking.”
“Why are you doing this? You keep on sacrificing yourself for me. I told you once, I wasn’t worth it. I always mess things up.”
Cas looked to the floor: “You saved me. You made me the angel I am today. I learned from you to do the right thing. And to know what is worth dying for.”
“I’m not.” Dean’s voice sounded broken.
“Close your eyes, Dean.”
Dean shook his head: “Please Cas, don’t! You said you need me, well I need you, too. So screw this. Just don’t fucking do this.”
Castiel pressed his hand over Dean’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
“No, CAS!!! NOOOOO, please!!!”
A wave of light and heat hit him and the darkness in him shrieked loudly and tried to tear itself away from his body in a heat wave of agony and fear. He felt like he got suffocated, the pressure in his chest got so overwhelming that he screamed. The last thing he remembered was the soft, warm hand pressing on his eyes slipped lifeless from his face before his mind blanked out.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice was full of concern.
He groaned as he opened his eyes only to be greeted by a splitting headache.
“Sammy?” he asked weakly.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”
Only now Dean registered that he was handcuffed to a chair in their dungeon. The memories flooded back to him and he groaned. Frantically he looked around the room: “Where is Cas?”
As on cue the door opened and the familiar frame of his angel walked slowly into the room.
“Cas!! Are you okay?” Relief and happiness filled Dean’s heart so fast that he couldn’t suppress a wide smile on his face.
Castiel nodded to Sam and his brother opened the handcuffs that bound the hunter to the chair.
“I’m fine and I will be. The stolen grace in me is completely gone and it looks like I’m human now.”
“So you’re not an angel anymore?”
Castiel nodded: “I thought if I use the stolen grace and go through this ritual I would die. Instead the ritual cleansed both of us. It saved both of us.”
Dean grinned and rubbed his wrist: “Good things do apparently happen.”
Cas smiled at that and shared a long gaze with Dean until Sam coughed embarrassed.
“How about some pie? I bought you some, thought you need it after this.”
Dean grinned widely at his brother: “Best brother in the world.”
Sam grinned, slapped his brother on the shoulder and left the dungeon. Cas wanted to follow him but Dean held him back.
“I’m sorry, Cas.”
“For what, Dean?”
“That you’re stuck here with us now. For everything really.”
“You mean I can stay?”
Dean looked at him surprised: “Well of course, if you want to…”
“I’m still a hunter in training.”
“And there is still room for improvement.”
They grinned at each other and Dean gave in to his desire and pulled the angel in a tight embrace. He felt Cas putting his arms around him, felt the warmth of his hands through his shirt.
“Thank you.” He reluctantly let his angel go and saw him nodding at him.
“And now I teach you the importance of pie.” Dean grinned and hoped he dodged this chick-flick moment at least a bit before it got really emotional.
After his first bite of apple pie the last bits of emptiness left his body. He looked at his brother and Cas and for the first time in a long time he felt happiness spreading its warm tendrils through his body. And this time he didn’t recoil, but stayed in the light and enjoyed its warmth.
Benedict/Martin + that synchronized dance thing that they do
5x02 → 8x02
ok but how does dean not realize that cas is in love with him i mean really
On the importance of a teddy bear…
i will reblog this every time.
But what if the teddy bear is the nightmare and the creature is the protector?
It is a little-known fact that teddy bears crave and feed on the dreams of young children. It is little-known, of course, because the bears are so soft and cuddly that they convince the young children that they need them. For a while, the bear will feed on the bad dreams, leaving the child with nothing but the sweetest of dreams. But the good dreams taste better and feed them more, so eventually the teddy bear will start feeding on those, and the child will have nightmares every night. And, because the teddy bear so thoroughly convinces the child that the bear is necessary for the good dreams, they will keep sleeping with it, hoping for its magic to work again.
But the mind of a child is so rich and imaginative that it creates the means to its salvation. The monster under the bed rises, in the end, to vanquish the bear. Some nights it rises before the first nightmare night. Other times, it is at the last moment, and rises only when the bear means to suck dry every last dream and imagination in the child’s mind.
Tonight is the former. This monster was sent out in time to save its child from a single bad dream. And despite the teddy bear’s sword, the monster is fierce and devours it in a single gulp.
It is about to leave when it hears confused, wordless mumbles. The monster looks down and sees its child is awake, and looking up at it. Sleep has not faded so much that the child doesn’t scream, just asks in a sweet voice what the monster is doing there.
The monster, like the teddy bear, can’t speak. Instead it picks up the water by the bedside, hands its child the glass. Still confused, the child takes it. When the child drinks its fill and hands it back, the monster tucks it in with gentle claws.
The child murmurs a thanks and falls asleep again. And the monster leaves, satisfied that it has left its child with less fear rather than more.
holy shit that was beautiful