#tris and gabriel tbt

[hiercphants-a]

👀 👀 👀

o p e n | aggression/sexual tension starters

hours turn into days, and days turn into weeks. conversation of tristan’s return grows lesser each day, until eventually one comes when it’s mentioned only once, and then never again. gabriel’s never been so caught up in someone in all his life - has, admittedly, never had the chance. some feeling each day growing in the pit of his stomach, warm and curling like vines around his ribcage, rising through his esophagus, blooming in his mouth every time he speaks. surely this must be friendship, platonic fondness as that amongst brothers - though he wakes each morning from strange dreams, dark and honey heavy, in which tristan is whisper close and shares with him knowledge of secret things to be forgotten on waking, and some unnamable feeling - like shame, but somehow pleasurable, electric - left in their wake. flushed and dream-drunk, he lies in bed and feeds himself back his most treasured fragments with his hands until he’s cured - and rejoins the waking world to find that the gardens he’s been slowly coaxing back to life since his exile began have bloomed over night.

this, too, must only be a dream - this night is too lovely, and tristan far too close. deep in the forest, where the moon is full enough to flood the clearing with light, to tease with the memory of the sunlight he’s lost, his carefully composed mask is slipping, flushes and breaks at a turn of phrase that suggests another, a gesture or expression that reminds him of things that have only happened in his head. his gaze cast towards the river in a pretense of admiring how it catches the light - though really, it’s only to avoid the heat of tristan’s gaze, to focus elsewhere while he attempts to slow his racing heart. surely, he must be caught up in fantasies, in wishful thinking - a fool’s pastime, but one he’s never been able to resist, has spent many of these solitary days now dreaming of love returned even as he’s grown to understand it as beyond his reach, as the curse’s final price above all others.

teeth sinking into his lower lip - their title, red as blood, once a gift, now nothing more than a cruel irony - he tries to quell the feelings rising within him. curiosity, desire, as unfamiliar as they are dangerous, the promise of his undoing. then, without warning - or perhaps there might’ve been, if only he hadn’t been so preoccupied with drawing further away - tristan’s hand against his face, grasping his jaw and drawing him forward, so close gabriel can taste his breath on his tongue, can nearly feel his lips on his own. he stills then, intoxicated now and daring him closer, longing for nothing more than to close the final distance between them.

all around them, nightflowers are coming to life, unfurling their soft white petals until the whole bank glows silver in the moonlight - and then, as quickly as he’s found himself in tristan’s space, the feeling of sharp, animal fangs descending from his gums, pushing into his tongue, demanding to be felt. he can’t help but gasp, freeze, covers his mouth with one hand and presses the other to tristan’s chest as if to still him, hold him off, even as he relishes touching him, being so near.

“tristan, i-“ he whispers, shuts his eyes tight for fear they’ve gone black, “you can’t.” surely he must not know all there is of gabriel’s curse then, if he’d be so bold, so foolish. surely he would never ask such a thing from a monster, whatever it is he wants from him. an evening, perhaps, a little while, but surely nothing more. or perhaps just this - to mock him, tease him, draw him to the edge until the curse rears its head for the sake of cruelty, punishment. perhaps it would be right, what he deserves - but gabriel’s heart simply can’t take it. not from tristan.

“you don’t want me,” he whispers, finds he’s trembling, “i promise.”

[shipper-trash-bag]

Unlovable

Sam couldn’t focus, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t read another second of text in from of him, slamming the book closed and excusing himself from the library in a stiff tone, all but running to his room.

Gabriel was on a date. Without him. Not that Sam expected to be taken out by the former archangel, but he had hoped. Now that they were back home and safe, no portals open, no one coming for them, he had hoped maybe something could blossom between them. Maybe not love, mainly because of Sam’s own luck or lack there of in tbt department, but maybe a friendship. Something. But no, he was stuck at the bunker with Dean and his mother doing research while Gabriel went off doing who knows what with the waitress they’d met a state over the previous night.

Falling into bed with the lights off, he willed himself not to cry, the cloud of darkness in his mind doing its best to silence any shred of happiness he might have in his heart. He doesn’t love you, it whispered. He’ll never love you, you’re not worth his love. A former archangel, ha! You’re delusional. You don’t deserve him. He tried to block out the voice with a pillow, but it was no use. It was louder than even Lucifer’s was at times, the depression he’s had since he was a child never lifting long enough for him to feel like he mattered, like he was worthy of love.

Jess made him feel worthy at one point. And now she’s dead, the voice whispered. But his mother and his brother were here. And they both left, they only came back because they had no other choice, it hissed. But Cas- loves Dean more, always has. And Jack - could do better than you.

It dragged him down, down, down deeper in the pits of sorrow, the tears not shy now as they streamed down his face as he sobbed. He rolled himself under the covers, hiding from the world as the voice got what it demanded - defeat.

Sam fell asleep like that, tears stained on his cheeks, sleeping fitfully and waking up with a start several hours later. Uneasy, but too wired to sleep, he made his way to the kitchen to make a tea, stopping short as he found Gabriel sitting at the table, back to him, shoulders shaking. “Gabriel?”

The ex angel startled, wiping at his face as he sniffles and turned around, plastering a fake smile for his friend. “Hey Sam. Sorry, did I wake you?”

Sam shook his head, concerned. “No, couldn’t sleep. What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Oh, nothing, noth-“

“Gabriel.” Sam sat heavily across from him, face set in stone. “Don’t lie to me. Tell me, please.”

With the softness of his words, Gabriel broke down, head falling forward as he sobbed. Sam grabbed at his hands, squeezing tightly as Gabriel explained. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go out with her. I drove all the way over there and I just couldn’t- I had to tell her I wasn’t ready, and she looked at me like I was broken. Like I wasn’t even worth her time.”

“Gabriel, it just didn’t work out with her, I’m sure the next time you-“

“No!” He gasped, looking at Sam with watery eyes. “Asmodeus was right. I’m not worth anyone’s time.”

Sam was furious. How dare anyone tell his friend such a ridiculous thing. “You’re worth mine.”

Gabriel scoffed, snorting a little as he coughed. “But you deserve better. You deserve someone unbroken.”

Sam squeezed his hand, forcing Gabriel’s gaze on his own, feeling braver than he had in a long time. “You know what I did when you left yesterday?” Gabriel shook his head. “I tried to research with mom and Dean, to catalogue the library better, but I couldn’t focus. I ended up in my room, crying until I fell asleep.”

Gabriel reeled back as if he’d been slapped. “What? Why would you do something like that?”

Sam took a shaky breathe in, looking down at the Formica of the table. “Because the man I love went on a date with a waitress he met a state away.” Gabriel’s hands withdrew from Sam’s own and the ringing in his ears started up again, the voice not far behind. See? He doesn’t love you. Sam closed his eyes against the assault, letting the pain wash over him, it demanding to be felt. You ruined it, just like you ruin everything.

But as he felt the first tear threaten to fall, he also felt strong arms circle around him. He opened his eyes to find Gabriel no longer sitting across from him, but instead standing next to him, holding him tightly. Sam raised his hands up to hold him back, feeling Gabriel mutter into his neck, “do you really love me?” Nodding, he felt a shudder against him. “I thought you hated me?”

Sam pulled back, looking at Gabriel’s tear soaked face with nothing but surety. “No, I don’t hate you. Sometimes I hate what you do, but I haven’t hated you for a long time. The past three years? I’ve loved you so much I think I’d die.” Gabriel hiccuped a laugh, a small hopeful smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Seeing you with other people felt like being shot in the heart. I don’t deserve someone as good as you.”

“Oh, Sam,” Gabriel gasped, holding his hunter tightly as the kitchen clock ticked on. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s you who’s too good for me.” He shifted as Sam stood to hold him properly, tears soaking the shirt he’s buried his face into. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I went on that date, I’m sorry-“

But Sam had heard enough. He knew they’d both suffered enough, both feeling like they weren’t worthy of one another, of happiness. “Shh,” Sam hushed, rubbing at Gabriel’s back. “You don’t have to be sorry, it’s okay.”

“You cried yourself to sleep over me!”

“I once cried myself to sleep over Optimus Prime dying.”

Gabriel laughed, a wet chortling sound as he gripped onto Sam’s shirt. “I’m bearing my heart here and the man’s got jokes.”

“You’re always trying to make me laugh, thought I’d return the favour.”

They stood like that, holding one another for a while, soaking up the love from the other, calming the tears that slowly tapered off until Gabriel pulled his head away far enough to look up at Sam, eyes shining with happiness as well as tears. “You know,” Gabriel said slowly. “If we were to go on a first date, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Sam thought about it for a moment, and replied, “nothing wrong with dinner and a movie, you know.”

Gabriel shook his head. “You’re Sam freaking Winchester, you deserve something more special than that.”

Sam leaned down to kiss Gabriel on the cheek. “I don’t know about you, but I plan on having more than just the one date with you. There’s lots of time for special.”

Gabriel nodded, pulling away to hold Sam’s hand. “Would you like to accompany me to breakfast then? We can make it our first date, or we can use it to discuss where we want to go on our first date?” The hope in his eyes was palpable. Sam squeezed his hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss. “Or we could do it tomorrow? Whenever. I don’t want to rush you.” Sam pulled on his hand, leading him out of the kitchen. “Sam?”

“I’m tired. I think I should go back to bed.”

“Oh, uh, okay” Gabriel nodded, confused and a little hurt. “I understand. It’s like, four am, so I get it.”

“You look tired too, maybe you should take a nap,” Sam smiled a wicked grin, Gabriel however, was still slow on the uptake.

“Okay, but you know my room’s the other way, so-“

Sam rolled his eyes, kissing Gabriel on the cheek again. “My bed’s big enough for two.”

“Oh. Oh! Oooooh!” Gabriel smiled, hand squeezing Sam’s. “I don’t have any expectations of you, just to let you know.”

Sam nodded, leading them to his room, flicking the lights off in the other rooms as they passed them. “It doesn’t have to be anything other than sleep.”

“And cuddling. I’m gonna cuddle the crap out of you.” Sam laughed, nodding as they rushed back to his room.

Ten minutes of getting the bed just right, another two to get the right angles, Gabriel nestled in his arms, Sam realized the voice in the back of his head was quiet. “I like this,” Gabriel whispered.

Sam nodded, leaning down to do what he had wanted to for three long years. The second their lips touched, Sam felt like he could cry. But this time, they would be tears of joy, especially when Gabriel pulled back to whisper, “I love you too.”

They fell asleep wrapped up in each other, and when he awoke many hours later, Gabriel’s face pressed to his chest, he felt more loved and cherished than he had in years.

Gabriel awoke slowly, and with a single breath, he filled Sam’s heart to the brim when he said “I promise you’ll never feel unloved again.”

[feralaim]

—Character Info Sheet indirectly tagged by everyone.

Name of your character

Gabriel Reyes

Aliases: Reaper ( current ) / Gabi / Gabe / Reyes

One picture you like best of your character’s FC

Two headcanons you have for your character that you never told anyone (lies)

Despite how much Reaper claims  repugnance towards the doctor, his heart still leaps to his throat for her. If anyone ever went after her, he’d target and eliminate them, but he will say that he will kill her, no one else will. To put in perspective, Reaper could have killed her a long time ago, but he hasn’t. He is convinced he can, but the moment he is in front of her, he’ll realize he won’t.

It’s hard to distinguish his beliefs. He isn’t superstitious, but he doesn’t outright believe there isn’t unnatural things out there that fall away from the scientific. His mind just isn’t wired to believe the cause of the unexplained to be supernatural. If something supernatural does happen, he won’t react. It is like it doesn’t process and he’ll almost like…ignore it? Continue on like it didn’t happen even though it very well did. The image’s shock value, although graphed in his mind, will slowly dwindle. (  Gabriel | Reaper? }

Three things your character likes doing in their free time

Playing the guitar in the confinements of his room ( Gabriel )

Playing sports, boxing and sparing. ( Gabriel )

Listening to music within the confinements of his room. ( Gabriel )

Seven people that your character loves/likes

Jack ( Gabriel )

Ana

Genji + ( Reaper / Gabriel )

Angela / Mercy +

McCree

Mama Reyes

Feraaha

Ellie ( exists to the verse parallel to my main )

* ( Gabriel ) Adores Angela. Highly respects her and her title.

* ( Gabriel ) cares about Genji, but it isn’t until he becomes Reaper that he comes to really care about Genji in a way he never thought possible. He can’t be physical with him because he won’t let anyone see his face nor can he make skin to skin contact with anyone, but he shows his flood of affection with a simple gesture that means a lot. He’s protective and willing to stand in the line of fire for him.

* Jack meant much to ( Gabriel ). A brother. A beloved friend. Jack frustrated Gabe with his lack of courage, but he loved him none the less.

Two things your character regrets

Not figuring it all out fast enough

Leaving Ellie behind ( parallel verse )

Two phobias your character has

Gabriel isn’t a man of many fears.

He’d probably keep calm even if he was in a sinking submarine. 

Tag ten people to do the same

@artificebcdy  |   @revengebound  |  @curebound  |  @sillyevil  |  @ryu-no-hakai  |  @flashbang-up | @stormbowed  |  @organscut | @mindkept | @mcrkiplicr | @caduzie | @zieglcrs

[hiercphants-a]

“you’d look better with those clothes on the floor.”

o p e n | nsfw starters

gabriel can’t help but flush at the compliment, glances up from where he’s bent over the counter applying lipstick and meets tristan’s gaze in the mirror. a tempting thought - turning to face him as he leans back against the counter, he pins tristan under his dark watch like a moth under glass and undresses him right out of his skin. maybe it’s the drugs, but if they weren’t expected somewhere, he might just give in. unfortunately for them both, they’re already running fashionably late for an unmissable party - his own.

leaning forward, he straightens tristan’s bowtie and smooths the lapels on his suit jacket, presses a kiss to his collar and leaves behind a perfect oxblood lip print. there - now he’s perfect. “you think so?” he whispers, smiles as he snakes his arms around tristan’s neck and drops his gaze to the other’s lips. then, glancing back up with a pout, his eyes wide with mock worry - “promise you’ll help me take them off?” a line, certainly, but by no means an exaggeration - he’s laced so tight he can barely breathe, but then, he’s always liked being tied up.

after that, it’s only a matter of time; all evening, looks and touches that linger too long, hands settling possessively on waists and curled into the fabric of suit jackets, comments whispered as though to be heard above the music but only for the sake of closeness. gabriel’s trying to be good, he really is, plays the generous host all evening even with crashers, enemies, and ex’s - and still, it only takes one comment - his answer to tristan asking how he’s holding up a whispered confession that he’s just dying for someone to take him upstairs and get him out of this costume - to send them out the door before the clock’s even struck three. a bottle of champagne in one hand and his shoes in the other, he drags tristan crossed and stumbling into the nearest elevator and backs him into a corner before the doors have even closed. around them, the shining black walls, the mirrors above them reflect them back to themselves, and he can’t help but shiver with the dirty sense that they’re strangers watching themselves, being watched by themselves.

without high heels to close the six inches between them, he’s forced to drag tristan down to his level, places hungry kisses along his jaw and down his neck and pops the buttons off his crisp white armani dress shirt when he finds they blocks his way. then the sudden drop, the rushing sound, the sense of falling through space - and all of it tristan’s doing. he only tears himself away when he finds they’ve company - leans back against tristan’s chest and alternates between examining his nails and staring daggers at the other couple until they retreat, ten floors before their stop.

in their room, he wastes no time, races tristan to bed and slides into his lap, pushes him flat on his back and reaches for the bottle of champagne next to them - pops the cork and dissolves into laughter as it spills onto them both before he takes a drink, chases what’s spilled onto tristan’s bare chest with his tongue. “sorry,” he laughs - but finds the tables turned as tristan tears the fishnets from his body, the pearls from his throat, gasps and grinds down against tristan’s hips in response as he watches them scatter across the floor. a pity - it’s lucky they were his mother’s.

he’s nearly ruined now, and only half undressed; how he plans to make it through the rest of the weekend with both their appetites at a fever pitch, he’s no idea. handing the bottle off to tristan so he can take his face in his hands as he leans down to kiss him, bites his lip and pulls, he whispers sweetly, nearly out of breath and almost too turned on to think, “what do you think, mr. dumont? better now?”

[ @dcgausscr​ ]

[hiercphants-a]

😏 😏 😏

o p e n | agression/sexual tension starters 

gabriel’s only just started to drift into a dazed half sleep when he feels tristan’s lips against his neck, feels kisses turn into bites, bruise. he smirks then, eyes half-lidded as he drags tristan across the shaft of sunlight that separates them and over to his side of the bed, where it’s dark. he’s moving slow, intoxicated and subdued by the heat, and even his fangs are slow to reveal themselves, though when they do he wastes no time dragging them along the length of tristan’s neck, chasing the blood that rises to the surface with his tongue. still, his movements are sedated, directionless; he’s only looking for something to do in the downtime between horrors.

he hears uriel get up at some point, feels the bed that wasn’t made for three - is, in fact, two beds, chosen to avoid suspicion and pushed together immediately, a do not disturb sign promptly left at the door - groan as he stands up and leaves the room. he comes back with a bucket of ice and a pack of vending-machine cigarettes, one already between his lips. this place is getting to him, gabriel can tell - recognizes the restless black animal waiting behind his eyes, knows it from the mirror. he watches then as uriel passes tris his cigarette, as desire crackles between them - muted now, made abstract by the paralyzing heat of the day. somewhere in their room, a fly is dying loudly, but no one can be bothered to let it out or kill it. there’ll be more soon if no ones takes the ice to the tub, and the dozen roses from the roadside gabriel’s left in front of the bathroom door to ward off the smell will only hold out for so long.

still, when uriel reaches into the bucket to steal ice for the whiskey, he can’t help but gasp at the sudden cold and melt, lips parting, eyelids fluttering closed. from beside him, he can hear gabriel's dark whispering - praise and encouragement, promises and threats -, hears the soft sounds tristan draws from him with almost no effort, so easy is he to undo. he feels himself flush at the thought of joining them, of helping tristan take him apart, but he only sinks deeper into the bed, feels weighed down, drugged. silently he prays for a flood or a sign, prays for absolution or punishment but either way for the hand of god to reach down and reveal itself, to intervene.  

“uriel,” gabriel calls gently to remind him of the task at hand. he’d do it himself, but tristan's mouth is still on his neck, and his hands are tied, or they will be. “hurry, baby, please.” his black eyes slip shut then, bloom with seething red veins beneath. “we're running out of time.”

+ ♬

[ @dcgausscr ]