“Where’s Shizun?” He can’t help but ask aloud, hoping that just by saying his name he’ll appear and explain what the hell is going on.
One of the many women stirs, rubbing at her eyes before blinking them open to look at him. Luo Binghe immediately shuts his eyes.
Andrew might not be able to play any more, but of course, there are alternatives.
A reunion on the shore, and a new beginning
"It's Karen," she says hopelessly in the middle of his doorway like he wouldn't know her a thousand other ways. The whiff of perfume on her, Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb trapped underneath a thick smear of booze, or the sound of her shoes on the hard tile floor. She's drunk already; her breathing is faint and thready. Her face is too hot.
Listeners, I have just received word that our new visitor—you know, the British one, with his soul unwillingly tethered to a non-euclidean facet of what we perceive to be human terror—is listening to our show!
Khonshu and his avatar have a weird little moment on a rooftop. (Not for the first time and not for the last.)
Mary’s usual expression of placid calm slipped for a moment before she responded with a twinkle in her eye. “I could possess advanced technology from an alien planet.”
A podfic of "Pack Mentality"
Five lone wolves do not make a pack. Unless they do.
Sam didn't need his gun, or Ruby's knife or Cas' blade tonight. He had the power running through his veins to end it all tonight. This sacrifice would be the most righteous thing the demons he drained could ever do. Killing Lilith, avenging his brother, tabula rasa.
Max/Jude; Two different times and bad pickup lines.