#dean winchester being a cutie

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: The aftermath of injury leads to a desire for comfort.

Warning: Mentions of injury, hospitals, probably incorrect info on concussions, mentions of alleged abuse (like for a second but not in great detail), fluff. P.S: Idc if reader is coming off a little childish in the beginning, i said it before and i’ll say it again reader is honestly almost completely based off of me and something about me is that i hate hospitals. I’m a chronically ill girlie and i still despise them, every time ive had to go ive complained—it’s who i am as a person.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn

Word count: about 2k

Rest

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

“So where to next?” I ask as I buckle my seat, allowing my head to rest finally. I am more than happy to leave behind this apple-loving, pagan-worshiping town.

“‘Bringin’ you to a hospital” Dean answers, starting the car. I jolted up, immediately regretting the action as the pain in my head spiked and my vision wobbled. “Nooo. No. No hospital” I plead, not caring if I sounded pathetic, “I hate hospitals!”

“I wasn’t asking if you wanted to go, sweetheart” he quips. “No, please! I’m totally fine, sure I'm a little beat up but nothing a bandaid and sleep can’t fix.”

“You’re not winnin’ this one” he replies with a little half shrug. I turned to Sam, who already had the map out, and pulled open. “Sam, help me.”

“Sorry Y/N, Deans right.”

Dean sighs dramatically, “I love bein’ right.”

“Shut up” Sam half laughs, “Seriously though Y/N, you probably have a concussion. You should get checked out for a definitive answer.”

“Okay, well, Dean he was hit over the head with a gun too.” I try and deflect. Sam turns his head to face me giving me a “really?” look, “He’s also walking and talking fine, and doesn't look like he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.” I thought I was talking and walking just fine despite feeling like everything was spinning and I was doing a wonderful job of ignoring the ringing in my ears.

I open my mouth to make another retort but I don’t get a single sound out before Dean cuts me off, “If you try any of your escapes I'm callin’ your brother.” That shuts me up, I love my brother but he's very protective and will yell at me if it means being safe. I lean back against the soft seats of the car, pouting, I hate hospitals. I catch Dean's eyes staring at my lips in the rearview mirror, “You can pout as much as you want to, ‘still going.”

I know I'm acting like a child but hospitals are the worst, sure the doctors can be nice but there's so much always going on that it's just too overwhelming and they poke and prod at you. And especially as a hunter, you must make such elaborate lies just to be seen.

The dark-haired doctor removes the small yet extremely bright light from my eyes, “You have a minor concussion” she concluded after the many tests she ran, “there's not much we can prescribe you. But you need a lot of rest and to relax, no drinking or crazy activities for at least a week. You can take Advil in 24 hours if the pain is too much.” If the boys were in this curtained-off room they would most certainly say ‘I told you so.’

She suddenly looks a little nervous, staring back at the curtain before looking at me again, speaking quietly, “This is a safe environment, if those boys are hurting you I can help you.” Her eyes slipped to my wrist, of course she saw the bruises and made the connection to restraints. And so much of my appearance from the now cleaned and bandaged wound on my head to my dirt-stained clothes would lead her to that thought.

I tug down my sleeves, trying to cover them, “No! No, they didn't do anything, they would never do that to me, seriously” I insist, eyes wide. She doesn't seem so convinced, “Look” I sigh, “The person who did this is being charged, alright the cops know about all this. The boys I came with did not do this.” It was mostly a lie, of course, but the point was to clear their names, that part was true. She nods, “I’ll be back with your discharge papers.”

She pulls back the curtains, and the second she's out of sight I sigh. I know it's her job but in this case it wasn't helpful, I didn't want any further fights or complications to go on today.

….

I hold a hand up, “I don't want to hear it. Yes, you were right.” Sam’s lips curve up into a smile, “Hey I said I don't wanna hear it” I cut them both off before they could say anything. Dean swings his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side, “Like I said, ‘love bein’ right.”

It was still early afternoon when we pulled up to the motel. It was just your regular-looking motel, with two floors of rooms to choose from with dingy lighting but I could not be more happy. We all exited the car rather quickly, it had been a long couple of days. I grab my bag meeting the boys by the trunk, Dean distributing our duffle bags. But when he gets to mine he doesn't hand it over, just closes the trunk, “I can carry my own bag, you know.”

He shrugs, “I know.” God, he was a sweetie pie. I study him as he walks just a few steps ahead of me, after everything that transpired I don't think I want to be alone. I wasn't scared per se, I just wanted comfort and I didn't have any stuffed animals packed. I didn't want to be a burden to him, he was probably tired and would want a bed to himself. But maybe I could just hang in their room for a long while.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, stopping to look back at me. Of course, he could practically sense it. He places our bags on the concrete, getting close enough that I could easily breathe him in. He lifts his hands to cup my face gently, he’s been doing that a lot lately. “‘Your head hurtin’?” He was looking down at me so carefully, his green eyes softening as he watched me. I have to remind myself to respond even as my thoughts extinguish each time his thumbs caress my cheeks, careful to pass over the bruises there, “Well yes but that's not…” I don't finish my sentence not having a single idea of what I should say to him. He looks down at me expectantly, just waiting. I wanted to hug him, keep my head buried in his chest even as my head pounded like a bass playing through an amp, but I can’t exactly say that.

I sigh, “Is it okay if…” I swallow, speaking quietly, “Can I stay with you?”

His eyes widened a fraction and if I wasn't looking right up at him I would have missed it entirely. It's not like this was anything new for us, we've cuddled before while watching a movie or something and even slept in the same bed if needed for a hunt. But to ask like this somehow felt so different, so much more personal. “Of course” he answers simply, eyebrows scrunched together as if he was insulted that I would be so hesitant to ask. He lets go of my face, and I immediately miss the steadiness of it all, he takes a single step back but not before grabbing hold of my hand and picking up our duffles to hold in his free hand.

We catch up to Sam in the small lobby, two keys in his hand instead of the usual three. Was it a coincidence that they just didn't have a room I could use or did he just know? I guess it was possible he saw us in the parking lot and figured out what I would want, am I that easy to read?

….

The room was quite nice, the walls were grey with some white detailing. And the beds were big, most likely a queen, with the crisp white blankets and a tall cushioned headboard. Sam walks in first, choosing the bed on the far side of the room, which was predictable at best seeing as Dean preferred being closer to the door out of a sense of protectiveness.

Dean places his duffle on the bed, handing me mine, “You can take a shower first” he says, telling me more than offering. I swing off my messenger bag, placing it on the bed before looking between both boys, “Are you sure?” I was already intruding in their room and his bed I didn't want to take over the bathroom too. They both nod their heads, I mumble thanks before heading there.

I didn’t care to study the bathroom, just wanting to be under the hot water and wash away the dirt and feelings of the day. I turn the shower on, lifting my shirt over my head before having to stop with it halfway off of me to stop the room from spinning. I close my eyes forcing myself to relax and not sway as I stripped down to nothing.

Being naked only made my bruises look worse. My wrists were rubbed raw, painful red marks adorning each one, and my cheeks had dark bruises on them from being punched twice over the span of a couple of days. Never mind the gash on the corner of my forehead, which I’d have to bandage again after the shower, and the subtle black and blues on my side likely from being thrown to the ground.

I swallow hard, I don’t want to think of any of this anymore. I step into the rather small shower, the hot water pouring over my head and down my body taking the tension with it as it went down the drain.

I step out of the steamy bathroom feeling infinitely times better despite the spinning room and hurting head. My hair was wet and clean and felt lighter now that it was no longer dusted with dirt, and I was in comfortable pajamas.

Yes, it wasn’t nighttime yet or time to sleep but that doesn't mean a girl can’t wear comfortable clothes. It was nice to be in pajamas, wearing some white plaid pants and a loose tee with a cute little embroidered bear in the corner and of course an oversized sweater because somehow I was always cold. It was a wonderful yet small feat.

Dean’s sitting up in bed, both boys watching some football game on the small TV. I slump into the bed carefully lying my head down as I get underneath the covers. Dean seemed to study me for a moment, smiling softly, he was probably trying to assess how I felt. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find, nodding to himself before getting up and heading to the bathroom with a change of clothes. A moment later the shower turns on.

I sink into the bed further, turning away from the TV, I didn’t care enough for sports to want to watch it anyway. The weight of the past few days catch up to me quickly, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

….

The bed beside me suddenly sinks down, and my eyes flutter open being met with Dean’s familiar frame, “Sorry sweetheart didn’t mean to wake you.” I shake my head, I must have been out for just a couple of minutes, “It’s okay” I mumble still on the outskirts of sleep. He gets under the covers, his black shirt accentuating the muscles in his arms as he moves.

Once he situates himself he holds his arms open to me, silently asking if I wanted to get closer. He always seemed to know what I wanted or what I felt, sometimes I feared he knew me too well. I shift closer to him and he meets me halfway pushing me the rest of the way into him.

He practically places my head on his chest, close to his shoulder, his arm closes in on me holding me impossibly closer to him, his hand resting on my waist. His body warmth immediately reaches me, and in his embrace, any fears or anxieties I had the last few days seemed to dissipate. I place a hand on his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The hand on my waist begins to move slightly, his thumb rubbing slow circles into my side, my heart seems to flutter and I fear I won't be able to move on from this. It is moments like these that I find it hard to keep my feelings to myself, my love seems to bustle in my veins threatening to spill out. And with everything I have in me, I must bottle them back in, even as he places a soft kiss on my forehead and I think my heart just took off flying.

I melt into him, neither of us saying anything–not that we needed to. I can feel his rings on my side and the comforting weight of his hand there, the warmth he let off and his scent of something like pine or maybe it was wood, and just for a moment under the fog of a mild concussion, I imagine a forever like this. Being able to fall asleep each night to his hold and wake with him still there right beside me.

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #john winchester #slow burn #dean winchester x witch reader #witch reader #witchcraft #the hunter and the witch update #the hunter and the witch #dean winchester being a cutie #dean winchester x f!reader

[xofemeraldstars]

SUPERNATURAL -> 10x09 ❝ the things we left behind ❞

#spncreatorsdaily #spndaily #spnedit #supernaturaledit #deanedit #cowboycoven #emeraldcas #chapeldean #deancaskiss #userda #da.tags #tusersana #altarofrowena #justcastiel #userbeetle #anztag #kedits #dean winchester #spn #dean being a cutie

[emilyrosewinchester]

Jared trying to stop the sunlight coming through the curtains haha. Video from me 😆

#jared being a cutie #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #spn con #ahbl12 #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #j2

[authorstellarainbow]

Dean: *tries to break a glass case with the butt of his gun.*

*then walks around the room looking for something to break it with when that doesn't work*

*glances down at the gun in his hand*

Dean: Oh, come on, Dean!

*shoots the glass*

#dean winchester is too good for this world #dean Winchester is a cutie pie #adorkable Dean Winchester #Dean being Dean #supernatural #spn #spn fandom #Dean Winchester appreciation post

[question-everything-twice]

Dean Winchester Baking

#dean Winchester being a cutie patotie #he still got salt tho be careful #trans dean #hes nesting Sam #deal with it #i inserted cowboy cas and the kiss band logo cause I’m too tired to draw them #yet another succulent Cas made dean buy for their home #more wholesome content to come folks don’t worry #*tips cowboy hat* #till next time #spn #fanart #my art #Destiel if ya squint

[zeephyre]

CR3: EPISODE 62 RANT

Spoilers Below, duh.

All in all this episode was really fun. I really enjoy episodes that include a journey towards a destination and I love when each player has to roll for an outcome.

I liked the quiet moments between all of the characters as we're getting further into our time together and are becoming somewhat friends.

prism I think is the most likely to stay with the group (if that will ever even work out, like marisha said idk how they're gonna pull that off but i really hope we get a huge ass table full of players). bor'dor, who i am still incredibly suspicious of, seems genuinely distressed by his brother not being there and i think they brushed off the possibility that he got yeeted too quickly because it's honestly more than likely that it did happen. or he doesn't exist and bor'dor is a dog (I don't even like that theory it's just funny). denise seems like she just wants to find dariax, kick his ass and then get married and run off where ludinus can't touch them. i don't think she thinks that's possible but i really don't want her near the fray. dariax and the crown keepers seem like they're in the shit though.

orym didn't react to ashton bringing up the ashari (and i don't know if taliesin meant to say hishari but whatever) and (idk if i just forgot) but im pretty sure they still haven't talked about that since laudna encouraged ashton to speak with orym about it. i kinda remember orym not knowing about it but i could be misremembering though. either way, i think this particular episode ashton is... really desperate to figure themself out.

between asking orym to help him meditate on rocks (which was a really cute scene) to his interest in the skeleton embedded in the stone (plus the cool new shiny ring they got out of it) and the crystals at that creepy ass cavern -- i really hope he gets some answers soon. i have a feeling this might be the place to get it though, idk.

bor'dor seems to have the impression that the hellians think they're strong enough to stop the god eater but they don't even think they're strong enough to stop ludinus. they couldn't even beat otohan thull. they're not fighting because they think they can win, they're fighting because not fighting is no longer an option. there's nothing to do BUT fight. they know too much, and they have too much at stake to leave the battle.

imogen and orym especially. and there's no way in hell any of the bells hells will try to pretend to be okay with anything ludinus has done or will do. they know what he and his cult are capable of. I'm glad they got to express a bit of that though.

laudna called Imogen her sister but i lived through a time where dean winchester called the angel who is in love with him his brother so i didn't even flinch.

ashton got a massage from orym. it was appropriately sweet and hilarious. i think... orym might be one of the only people who consistently has touched ashton. i can't remember anyone asking explicit permission to touch him. i am so jazzed that they ENCOURAGED orym to touch them.

i think ashton has some of the best moments in their ability to create moments where between PCs where rp is at its finest. we haven't gotten another round of "what the fuck is up with that?" yet but that pipe was inspired. i love the little moments between him and prism. whenever ashton does something incredibly thoughtful they act like it's uncommon or a fluke and it's such bullshit cause he's SO consistent with his empathy. he's not a fucking public speaker by any means, but he has an energy around him that is unironically great to be around.

on a lighter note, my favourite moment (aside from the ashrym massage) from this episode is either orym praying to the wild mother or orym fucking hang gliding a eagle sized raven down a ravene. he's such a cutie.

i can't wait for the next episode. team issylra seems to think abadina betrayed them but i think the dude they're supposed to meet has been murked by whatever is in entombed. maybe it was set free by the same sort of dispelling magic shit that hit uthodurn and unpetrified the bull. if that's the case, hopefully this ends with the power of friendship prevailing as well.

#critical role #cr3 #bells hells #critical role campaign 3 #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #laudna #cr laudna #prism cr #prism grimpoppy #bordor dogson #deni$e #cr denise #cr spoilers #cr speculation #imogen x laudna #laudnogen #imaudna #cr campaign 3 #cr3 ep62 #c3e62 #critical role c3

[found--family]

best parts of the finale from someone who hasn’t watched the rest of the season:

DEAN WINCHESTER IS BACK BABY!!! he’s in 1972

John calls [Dean] ‘sir’, cue jackles facial journey 

Dean with scruff so long it’s basically a beard

Dean with dark grown out hair

Dean in dark turtleneck sweater + peacoat

Bobby is back, alongside Dean

Dean + Bobby meddling in time from heaven?

who is 'the cavalry’?

Carlos crushin on 'ruggedly handsome’ mystery man [Dean] 

Radio Company’s Keep On Ramblin’ playing in the bar where they get intel on [Dean’s] whereabouts

Dean + the impala got yeeted to The Empty? by hunter lady? Akrida queen

Dean’s journal DEAN’S JOURNAL!! 

the queen is a dark Dean meta mirror

Akrida are aliens? 

soul magic 

'you can only reverse the polarity at midnight’ it’s like Doctor Who meets witchcraft 

hope + the fight for freedom 

boys with big swords 

'you’re already a monster, john' 

BABA O'REILLY PLAYS AS BABY RETURNS 

girls riding in Baby, Mary at the wheel 

Baby feels like a character instead of a prop 

LA Woman as Mary drives Baby (she was always Her car!) 

Baby in a Back To The Future moment 

DEAN IS BACK!!! DEAN MEETS THE GANG!!! 

Dean brings back Young Mama 

John/Mary reunion giving Destiel reunion vibes we deserve 

Dean is dressed more like Dean but a little classier 

Dean 'I’m already dead’ Winchester 😤😭

Dean doesn’t reveal his identity 'I’m a hunter, just like you' 

Dean is not of this earth; heaven!Dean took Baby for a detour 'through the multiverse’

Carlos flustered by ruggedly handsome Dean 

Dean was looking for his family, a version where they have a having ending 

the Akrida were Chuck’s destructive failsafe 

Dean smile!! cheeky cutie!! 

LOTS AND LOTS OF DEAN TALKING AND BEING!!! 

Dean 'you can write your own story’ Winchester 🥺💖

ENTER: BABY GOD JACK (+ Bobby) 

Jack + Carlos lil wave 

Bobby and Jack are Dean’s family 

Carlos peacocking for Dean in the background 

Dean is fine with being cast out of heaven.. into the empty?! 

god!jack pushin 'peace when you are done’ for Dean :c

Dean gives John his hunter journal 

Dean warns Mary about YED 

the colt is back and Dean gives it to Mary 

Dean found his family’s shot at a happy ending in The Winchesters™ 

Dean gives them an alias of the lead vocalist of Metallica 

Nick Drake One Of These Things First plays as our old faves glowy-disappear 

Lata helps Ada grow her soul back 

Mary leaving to find herself (while looking at 2 passing girls) 

John going to face the anger inside himself and become a hunter 

others catch a case by a beach 

John hits the road with Mary in Baby Blue 

'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole’ Mary quotes [Dean's] journal 

LED ZEPPELIN’S RAMBLE ON PLAYS!!! over season 1 montage 

closing thoughts: in this universe the characters are not ruled by fate or a cruel god, they can make their lives whatever they want. the writers tie up everything well in case they don't get more seasons, but they leave the narrative open for exploration. downside is Dean's role was tied up with a bow so i don't think he's likely to return - but that doesn't mean we won't see more familiar faces! 

#spnwin 1x13 #watchnotes #summary #thoughts #dean winchester lives #spn prequel #the cast is fucking talented but drake really steals the show he's the jackles of the production

[sunwarmed-ash]

A B and G! For the ask meme :D

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

omg so fucking many. Here's as many as my brain can think of rapid fire from my ao3 list

Hankconvin & hankvin1700 and any iterations of the DBH boys,

Steddiegrove and any mix of the Stranger Things dumbo boys (Steve Eddie Billy, sometimes jonathan)

Drarry always-JK is a CUNT.

Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Roy/Jamie, Ted/Trent, Keeley/Rebecca, Roy/Trent 👀 (may the fic finish itself soon) from Ted Lasso

Peter Parker/Eddie Brock/Venom, Peter Parker/Harry Osborn, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Matt Murdock, Petercest, Starker, Peter Parker/Anyone (Andrew!Peter was the one I grew up with <3 I love him with pretty much anyone and he's got so much potential for tragic backstory with all of them. I love love Tom's too :D he's such a cutie and Tom is also a really incredible human being and actor. Hard to choose a fav Peter when every one I've seen has been amazing!)

John Bender/Andrew Clark from the breakfast club. I do love me some enemies to lovers and this fucking movie. Enough I wrote 54k+ of fanfiction for it

Wincest, Sam/Dean Winchester- Sorry not sorry, I clearly labeled to dove in the freezer DO NOT EAT!

Marty/Rust-True Detective. BRING ON THE DYSFUNCTION

Izzy/Blackbeard, Steddyhands, blacksteade, teal oranges from OFMD

Nick/Schmidt from New Girl

El/Q from Magicians

Ryan/Jim from the US The Office

Johnlock, Hilson, any version of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes thats gay

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

oh man, I feel like this is a rarepair question. Let me check the ol' archive....

hahahahaha well this is gonna give away more about me than I probs want, but we got some Norman/Peter Parker in here, and Swayze and Sam Elliots characters in Road House👀🌶️

oh man also my ST mutuals got me allll into Robin/Heather, I can't stop thinking about them and Heather and Billy being cunty platonic bffs

Ooooo spanish Jackie/Jim 😍& Izzy/Lucius from OFMD

I also guess I ship Ted and Rebecca now. I didn't until that last fucking episode and I saw all four of them in her house and I went. OH. Okay yeah I get it now.

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

oh yeah hahaha I probably started fan shipping in my early teens and it was either Draco/Harry or Max/Jude from Across the universe <3

thanks for the asks, they were really fun!

#sunwarmed ash #max asks #max answers #ash asks #ash answers #find me on ao3 #link in bio #detroit become human #stranger things #the breakfast club #true detective #harry potter #our flag means death #tasm peter parker #into the spider verse #supernatural #ted lasso #the magicians #the office

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

HELLO FRIENDS!!

Wow. I’ve been on hiatus for a hot minute. 

What have I missed?! Have you read or written anything you’re obsessed with and think I should get caught up on immediately?? (Or does anyone even get on here anymore...? lol)

Just wanted to pop in and say hi!! Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to write anything in ages and, you know...life. But I’m looking forward to (hopefully) being around more and interacting with all of you again! Hope you’ve been well!

Using my tags below the cut because those are the individuals I used to interact with most (but please feel free to let me know if you don’t ever want me to tag you in anything again! haha)

Cap’s SPN Crew: @adoptdontshoppets​  @akshi8278​  @avanatural​   @alexwinchester23​  @chevyharvelle​  @deandreamernp​  @deangirl7695​  @deanwanddamons​  @dean-winchesters-bacon​  @fandomoniumflurry​  @hobby27​  @pisces-cutie​  @stoneyggirl2​  @supernaturalenchanted​  @superromijn​  @teelagurl558​  @thoughts-and-funnies​  @waywardnerd67​  @x-waywardaf-x​

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms​  @amanda-teaches​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @crist1216​  @droidyouseek​  @emoryhemsworth​  @ericaprice2008​  @flawless-disaster​  @janeyboo​  @jenn0755​  @ksgeekgirl​  @maresmiley​  @memyselfandmaddox​  @notyourtypicalrose​  @randomparanoid​  @sandlee44​  @scarletsoldierrr​  @shann-the-artist-moon​  @sheerioasteroidpanda​  @shynara51​  @someday-when-you-leave-me​ @tatted-trina6​  @thisismysecrethappyplace​  @torntaltos​  @waywardbaby​  @waywardrose13​  @weebid​  @whimsicalrobots​  @wintersoldierbaby​  @yesfanficsaremylife​

Cap’s Marvel Crew:

@amoonagedaydreamer​  @bangtan-serendipity @bubbabarnes @lilacs-with-lavender​  @mrsbbarnesrogers  @msgreenverse  @nomadstevergxrs​  @palaiasaurus64​  @scarlettsoldier​  @selina-kyle89​  @smokeandnailz​  @troublermalik​  @twittytelly​  @valkirsif​ 

@deanwinchesterswitch​ @moondancediner​ @ezilyamuzed​ @wonder-cole

#i've missed you all! #and hope most of you beautiful souls are still around #CarryOnCap updates #just saying hey #and trying to remember how to internet again

[rafasbiscuits]

five comfort characters, five tags

thanks for including me to be one of the special five tags @kingfisherprince and @yoellglia I'm so honoured omg🙈

ANYWAYS. Five characters only is IMPOSSIBLE. I have tons but..these are what pops up in my mind first.

1. Peter Quill!! Honestly idk if he's number 1. But this are not by rankings cause I'm picky about comfort characters and they're all number 1. I love Peter he's so funny, so charismatic and soooo baby, (and so traumatized wow) The first time I saw him I KNEW he was going to be my favourite Guardian along w Rocket and Groot.

2. Dean Winchester. Hello my traumatized baby, look at him. He's so sweet and cute, despite all that trauma and stuff going on in his life he's still so kind and he tries not to continue the trauma chain and I'm so proud of him. He's my fav SPN character along with Bobby Singer, Crowley, and Castiel <3

3. (omg suddenly there's too much characters in my head) UHHHH. OKAY MO GUAN SHAN!! MOMO FROM 19 DAYS MANHWA. yes. I mean the whole manhwa is my comfort manhwa, I'm always sooo excited for new chapters but momo is my fav lil kitten he's so agressive and cute and baby, always getting into fights and definitely has some sort of freaking PTSD or something but He Tian's there to love him. So it's fine. TianShan couple goals.

4. Charles Xavier. Again, all of this is not ranked and if it was, Charles will be up a little bit. Charles Xavier, fav telepath and a cutie pie. He has mommy issues, and daddy issues ig, and in the comics he probably traumatized his son I mean. Look at his son. But that's besides the point! He's the sweetest, in terms of characters I relate to Erik more, and I'm more of an Erik Lehnsherr mindset cause c'mon. Mutants are superior idc but Erik is more serious than Charles, not my thing nono. So I have to have my sweetheart Charles here. Him and that tree scene is so cute, him when he found out that girl has a husband was even MORE cute. He's the cutest I can't-

5. Sam Wilson. Fav buff guy, smol smol bean 🤏🤏 I want to keep him in my pocket. He's doing great, unlike all the other characters I don't think he is that traumatized despite almost dying in an explosion, got dusted by Thanos, his best friend growing old( like rotting old) and giving him the responsibility of being Captain America and the whole states in his hand, and he definitely had identity crisis for a while. But that's just common marvel trauma. anyways, he's the guy, he's the cutest, him and his lil wizards, aliens and stuff speech was so cute. His whole character is a comfort.

Honorable mention of Iruka, Shinya Hiragi, Gojo, Loki, Shuri, and more I can't think of rn (I just woke up guys)

Tagginggggg hmmmmm. I wish to tag as much as I want but it's 5 and I have to play by the rules so sorry other mutuals, yk I love you all so much. Tags: @thefrootloopman @swaggypsyduck @janesurlife @tam-is-blogging @ponderingrabbit-blog (if u guys liked this post and I didn't tag u, in my mind I did, in another universe I did, IM FEELING GUILTY RN U GUYS ARE SPECIAL TOO OKAY!!! I'll tag u guys in another ask game I PINKY PROMISE)

#ask #mph i wanted to tag more guys esp those ik will answer but..oh well #THERE ARE MORE COMFORT CHARACTERS!! i just didnt put it there i cant think of more rn #thanks for the tags love u guys #all my comfort characters needs comfort. they all traumatized man😭 #but thats what makes them comfort characters!! (im an angst writer)

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam, Dean, and Y/N investigate a haunting in an abandoned asylum rescuing two teenagers who ventured in, they become trapped with the spirits of those who had died in a riot decades ago, one of which was a doctor who causes extreme rage in his victims.

Warnings: Cannon violence, murder and mentions of suicide, arguing, banter, usage and mention of guns, ghosts, panicking/ anxiety, a little bit of angst

A/N: There will be a confusing part where your like who is she talking about and to that I say all in due time. Also i’m sorry it seems like i’m giving up on this (I didn’t realize I posted the last part a month ago) IM NOT i’m just super busy with school, if you’ve taken APUSH you get it—i’m fighting for my life.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes, @star-yawnznn

Word Count: 11,033

Asylum

(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)

I let out a big sigh, slumping in my chair as I do so, my head falling onto my laptop's keyboard, “How is your dad moving from place to place so fast”, I grumble into the keys. “Literally how!” My head shoots up as I complain, looking at Dean who sat across from me with his head propped up on one hand as he stared down at his fathers journal.

His eyes meet mine even as his head faces the book, his stare tells me everything I need to know. He’s also very frustrated, certainly more than me and he too has no answers.

I contemplate slamming my head against my keyboard when Sam walks back into their hotel room. His phone clasped tightly in his hand after he just went outside to call several people. “Caleb hasn't heard from him?” Dean asks his approaching brother even though the answer is written on his disappointed face.

“Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Paster Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?” Sam shoots back, referencing people the Winchesters knew. I had heard of them too, most of them really good friends of the boys but I never actually met them.

Now it’s Dean's turn to answer and complain, “No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out.... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frickin’ Yoda.”

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s.” Sam sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“But isn’t he like, you know…wanted?” I ask, considering being a Hunter comes with breaking a lot of laws, like a lot. “That and Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail” Dean adds.

Sam’s face contorts into anger, “I don't care anymore.” Suddenly a cell phone rings from across the room, Dean's phone to be exact who immediately goes over to his bag. Sam huffs something between a sigh and a frustrated grunt, “After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing.”

“I know!” Dean yells loudly, snapping, the sound echoing off the ill painted walls. He rummages through his duffel rougher, “Where the hell is my cellphone?”

“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”

“Don't say that!” He snaps again, “He's not dead! He's – he's…”

“He’s not dead, your father is good at what he does. I'm sure he’s just caught up in something.” I tried to reason, turning in my chair so I could face both boys.

“Like that’s a good excuse” Sam spits back.

“Hey, I never said it was! But it certainly is a better and more optimistic view than death!” I lecture, my face scrunching up in offense.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles quietly getting our attention, “I don't believe it.” His words stopped Sam from saying anything further to me. His focus turned back on his brother, “What?” He asks.

“It's, uh....It's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean answers and it’s clear who the message is from. I want to turn to Sam and say ‘Ha! told you so!’ but I hold back on the childish, but totally correct, notion. Before Sam can say anything snarky about the message Dean cuts him off, “Can I steal that?” He asks me to point to my open laptop. I nod my head quickly, “Go ahead.”

He walks back over to the table turning my laptop until it’s facing him and where he sat. “You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asks as his brother types away.

“He's given us coordinates before.” Dean answers.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“To be fair, a toaster and coordinates are pretty different. All you need is a paper map” I cut in, earning a hard glance from Sam. I could not explain why he suddenly had a problem with me other than the fact I disagreed with him, which in that case makes him just as childish as I wanted to be.

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.” Dean adds, arguing.

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?” Sam pushes, still somehow convinced it isn’t his Dad which when I think about it is pretty harsh. Would he rather his dad was dead? Probably not.

Dean answers, “Nah, it said 'unknown'.”

“Well, where do the coordinates point?” Sam follows up.

“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Ok, a little random, but what’s specifically so interesting about Illinois?” I ask this time.

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turns my laptop around with a news article zoomed in on a black and white photo of a cop, “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam asks, again I want to say something about him asking a dumb question but I hold back not wanting any more sass from him or anyone.

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” He scoots my laptop back, pulling open his Dads stuffed journal that sat on the table. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam snorts, “This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job.”

Dean shrugs, “Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.” Sam snaps back.

“Does it matter? I mean we know it’s a hunt and we get to help people. I don’t see a loss in going.” I say, half shrugging.

“This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam argues, his head snapping from his brother to me. It’s a good point to be honest but what else is there to do? Though I do not make that question vocal.

“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.” Dean yells, final word. Sam makes a nasty bitchface and sighs, saying nothing more.

I lean against the cold exterior of the Impala, my arms crossed against my chest to fend off any bit of the cold night even with my layers on. I could go inside the car but standing outside, right at the front of the car, felt more productive while waiting for the boys to finish their whole “skit” for information.

Dean would go in and antagonize the partner of the cop from the article which would inevitably fail. So Sam would be waiting there telling Dean, who he pretends to not know, to (in a lack of a better word) f- off so that Sam could weasel his way into questioning.

A very complicated plan for a bunch of dummies. I sigh again, my eyes closing in the progress, I try to force the tension out of my body, all the arguing infecting my usual good mood.

I open my eyes back up only to round the car and find it locked. My head falls forward, my chin touching my chest, of course Dean would lock his precious car. I glanced around me, barely anyone lingering outside except some people up against the bar smoking or leaving to go elsewhere, no one was looking so I gingerly tapped the handle, a swirl of purple mist leaving my fingertip until it slithered its way into the car and its mechanics. With a satisfying click the little lock pokes up, I grin as I pull open the door leaning in only to rustle through my bag and pull out my book.

Dean would have to forgive me, though my little trick did nothing to harm the car to begin with. I push down the lock, jabbing into my palm as I do so, closing the door behind me I make my way to the front of the car once more leaning against it as I open up my worn book of Little Women for the hundredth time. The pages had long begun to yellow though it only went as far as a light yellow, still the crisp smell of an old book wafted into my nose, serenity finding me.

Suddenly the bar door slams open, startling me for a moment after getting lost in the prospect of an escape. Dean quickly walks over to where I was waiting looking extra grumpy, his eyebrows scrunched together with his arms thrown out, “He pushed me so hard!” He nearly yells, his choice of words were childish at worst and yet it was very amusing. “Why are you reading that again?” He asks, suddenly pointing at my book.

“‘Cause I love it” I smile simply.

“Haven’t you read that a hundred times?” he asks, moving next to me, leaning against the car too.

“Give or take” I laugh lightly, “It’s one of my many comfort books.” I mark my spot before shutting the book. “I’m guessing your silly plan worked?” I ask him as he leans closer to me. He gives me that devilish smirk, “Not silly if it worked, sweetheart.”

Some time later Sam exits the bar, “Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy” Dean spits.

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting.” Sam bites back, just tension building on more tension. But there’s only so much the atmosphere or people can take before it blows up.

“Huh?”

“It’s like immersing yourself emotionally and psychologically with your character” I whisper before closing my book shut. But instead of clarity crossing over Dean's face he looks just as confused if not a little more. Sam sighs, “Never mind.”

“Okay so what’d he tell you?” I ask.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.” Sam explains. Basically nothing to suggest him suddenly committing a murder suicide.

“What about at home?” Dean shoots back.

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.” Sam answers, I frown at the last part there was a whole life they could have lived.

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him.” Dean acknowledges.

“Well did anything happen as of supper recently that would even hint to a psychotic break?” I ask even though based on what we have it didn’t seem likely.

“No” Sam shakes his head, “Not that he mentioned at least.” I nod my head making a small mental note of that possibility, although unlikely, just in case.

“What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?” Dean questions.

“A lot.”

A loud horn blares from a nearby truck as Sam makes his way over the tall fence. With Dean slightly ahead of me I begin to climb the chain linked fence, I get a small jumping start clutching on to the cold fence. I shove my shoes into the little groves as I make my way up swiftly, being able to lift my legs high enough that I could make it to the top in about four moves. I balance myself on top of it before swinging my leg over it, I reposition myself to dangle slightly as my feet find purchase in the fence when about half way down I just decide to jump the rest of the way, landing on my feet in an almost crouched position.

The asylum itself didn’t look like it was falling apart but the overgrown bushes on the plot, the moss covering the building and the boarded up windows were a tell-tale tell sign enough that it was abandoned. The only thing keeping it from being entirely creepy was the early morning sun.

The door had no lock on it most likely from all the trespassing. But just as the door fell open an immediate musty smell hit my nose from all the trash covering the floor from beer bottles and cans to random bits of paper. Every surface of the walls was covered by either graffiti or mold, only small hints of the old green wallpaper left behind. “So apparently the cops chased the kids here....into the south wing.” Sam points to the sign hung over the door. The letters were mostly peeling, just another sign of the aging building.

“South wing, huh?” Dean breathes out, “Wait a second.” He pulls out his Dada journal from the inside pocket of his coat, flipping the pages until he found whatever he was looking for, “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So the South Wing seems to be the route of this all” I remark.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean points out, looking up from the journal. Sam notes the rusted, broken chains hanging from the handle of the door, “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years.”

“Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in.” Dean comments.

I cringe, “Is it really necessary to say such ominous things?”

“What? It’s the truth” Dean shrugs and I roll my eyes.

“Are you guys done?” Sam asks looking at us impatiently

“Yeah yeah open the door” I say before quickly adding a mumble of, “I hope a rat jumps out at you”

Sam looks at me with a mix of being offended and being annoyed, “Why would you say that?”

“Sorry!” I say half meaning it, “It’s an abandoned building and all so you know…rats”

“Just” Dean starts, him being the annoyed one now, “Open the door.” Sam nods, carefully opening the rusted door with a creek revealing a long creepy hallway, but at last no rats scurry out. The long hall was somehow only slightly better than the entrance with the walls peeling of its paint, most of it replaced by mold which only increases as the hallway extends, if we get sick we’ll know why that’s for sure.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean jokes, lighting the mood as he pulls out his EMF reader, referencing the movie Six Sense. “Dude, enough.” Sam groans.

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.” Dean says. Without missing a beat, Sam bites back, “I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell.”

“Anything going on with your EMF?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.” Dean answers.

“Well, spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day.” Sam adds.

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.” Dean comments.

The room falls quiet for a moment before Dean speaks up again, “Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam pushes his brother in response. “Oh definitely Jennifer Love Hewitt, I mean did you see her in Shortcut to Happiness ‘cause…wow” I answer before quickly adding, “No offense Sammy.” But Sam pushes me lightly too, a laugh bubbling up from my chest as I nearly knock into the moldy wall.

We enter a room that smells worse than the main entrance area, the culprit of the rotting flesh smell most likely being whatever pink goop is spilling out of a glass jar with liquid on a table in the far corner. This asylum was truly amazing at one-upping itself in terms of being horrible. The entire room is bad itself, all sorts of equipment they used on patients long ago when they had no clue what a mental illness really was or how to help people who struggled with it.

“God, they did such horrible things to these poor people” I remarked, stepping deeper into the room. The sight of a clearly used surgery table sending a shiver down my spine. Dean lets out a low whistle, “Electro-shock. Lobotomies…”

“Did you know JFK’s sister got a lobotomy done because she suffered from seizures and mood swings. But it only wound up leaving her permanently incapacitated and unable to properly speak, only goes to show how little they knew about all that stuff” I say, recalling a fact I remember reading about somewhere in an article.

“‘That one of your fun facts?” Dean inquires, clearly humoring me. I hum a “mhm” as I bend down slightly to look at a glass container filled with some sort of yellow liquid. I almost expect something equally as gross to be inside but there isn’t.

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean asks out loud to no one in particular.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting.” Sam answers, listing out examples of cases in which people claimed the devil had told them to do something bad and or possessed them. “Or Son of Sam, though that guy was just a basket case who admitted to lying about that demon bit” I add.

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean quips in, always with his references. I look up from the vials of I don’t know what to see him grinning, a smile forming on my own face at his charming expression.

“Dean.” Sam calls out, gaining his brother's attention, “When are we going to talk about it?” Uneasiness slips its way into the cracks of the building, finding us. “Talk about what?” Dean asks back, but I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about, it was clear as day. “About the fact Dad's not here.” Sam answers, already clearly annoyed. I straightened up, moving an inch closer to where they stood in the middle of the room in case I had to break up another fight. It hadn’t been anywhere close to a week from the last time I had to do so back in Kansas. “Oh. I see.” Dean replies, “How ’bout...never.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…” Dean cuts in immediately, “So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later.” They moved closer to each other with each word they spat, up until they got close enough that they would be able to throw a punch if they decided to. “It doesn't matter what he wants.” Sam argues.

“See. That attitude? Right there?” Dean points at him, “That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

“Guys come on, you can argue this later let’s just finish this hunt” I sigh, crossing my arms across my chest. Sam glares at me as if to say “stay out of this”, I get why they’re upset but all this arguing gets us nowhere and it’s beginning to get annoying. Sam turns back to his brother, “Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.” Dean replies rather calmly. I don’t necessarily like John, knowing everything he put my boys through made it hard to. But he was their Dad and Dean wanted my help and so I will help find their Dad, even if I mostly agree with Sam. “So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam spits, and I almost hate the fact that I do agree with him.

I try to ignore their arguing, knowing they wouldn’t let up, it wasn’t the sort of argument where someone won. I open a drawer near me, cobwebs and multiple clippings from old patient files filling it. “Of course we do.” I hear Dean answer.

I carefully take the clippings out, trying to avoid the cobwebs. I look through the handful quickly everything either ripped off or eradicated except bits of the Doctor's name. “If you're done over there it seems the main evil doctor was ‘Sanford Ellicott’. We should probably research him and the south wing, see what we can find” I say plainly, hoping this could all be over with soon so at least they would stop fighting.

I keep my legs up on the soft chair, my knees to my chest as I read my book. Dean is sitting next to me, his arm resting on the back of my chair, his legs spread widely. From my peripheral vision I see him stare up at the ceiling clearly bored as we wait for his brother to be done in therapy, or really done questioning the apparent son of Dr.Ellicott.

He groans, the noise coming from deep in his chest. I put my bookmark back in my book, shutting it and putting it next to me. I put my arms on my propped up knees lying the side of my face down on them, my cheek squishing against my arm as I peer at Dean. The immediate thought of how good he looks with his head thrown back, a very light stubble gracing his face, his eyes looking greener with the light shining from behind us and—

I shove the thought far into the back of my mind, it wasn’t the time for this not at all. Not even a little. “‘You okay?” I ask softly.

He rolls his head to the side, eyeing me “Sammy’s taking too damn long. He’s already pissed me off.”

“He wouldn’t be taking long unless it was necessary” I answer, smiling at his demeanor. He groans again, “Do you wanna go get coffee? I saw a place a block away, Sam can text when he’s done.” I offer, hoping it would distract him from being so pissed off. He leans his head up, squinting at me, “Is this your attempt at curing my boredom?”

“That depends, is it working?” I squint back at him as I lift my head from my arms, laughter threatening to bubble from my lips.

“Yes” He nods, throwing his hand on my knee, “Let’s go” but he keeps his hand there, a giddy nervousness settling itself in my stomach.

“See I told you couples therapy works!” a hushed voice says catching our attention. I look up to see a red headed girl and her tan boyfriend walking past us without trying to hide their stares, “Wer— we aren’t—“ I try to say loud enough for them to hear but my voice doesn't reach them, “Actually” I sigh, my face feeling warm, “it’s probably best if they just go to therapy.”

I turn my head back towards Dean, finding him already looking at me with scrunched eyebrows, studying me as if he was contemplating something. I place my hand over his, only realizing then my hands were cold when compared to his warm ones, “Ready?” I ask softly. He clears his throat abruptly, nodding his head as he removes his hand from my knee and gets up. I make sure to grab my book as I follow suit, but we only reach the door when a familiar tall figure walks right past us.

Dean's body language changes, he turns back to me confused and annoyed before pushing through the door. Tension clearly already has made its home in his back and shoulders. “Dude! You were in there forever, we were about to leave you. What the hell were you talking about?” He calls out towards his brother, easily matching his pace.

“Just the hospital, you know.” Sam answers plainly. I jog to catch up to them and their stupid long legs, “What’d you find?” I ask.

“The south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.” “Sounds cozy.” Dean remarks.

“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.” Sam elaborates.

“Any deaths? Dean follows up.

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“Did they…stuff him somewhere. I mean I feel like the place is only so big, right?” I hesitantly say.

Sam shrugs, “Cops scoured every inch of the place.”

“That's grim.” Dean murmurs just as we reach the Impala. “Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down” Sam says as he rounds the car.

“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” Dean lists out.

“And a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam adds

“Cute.” I remark, sarcastically.

“Let's check out the hospital tonight.” Dean finishes, opening the car door.

I shine my flashlight over the asylum, naturally in the darkness of the night it was far creepier than it was only hours before. I follow behind the boys as they enter the dingy entrance, making sure I don’t hit into the duffle bag hanging from Dean's shoulder. “‘You guys getting anything?” I ask since they hold the equipment. Dean holds his EMF reader out in front of him, “Yeah, big time.”

“This place is orbing like crazy.” Sam adds, looking at the screen of the camera he holds. “Eww, why would you say it like that?” I cringe before mimicking the way he said “orbing.” Sam turns around slowly, glaring at me “How mature of you, Y/n” he deadpans. “Hey i’m just calling it as it is” I respond in defense. He glares at me one last time, turning back around and I hear him mimic what I said. I’m about to hit him on the arm when Dean starts speaking, he looks between us, ultimately choosing to ignore our childish behavior, “There’s probably multiple spirits out and about.”

Sam added “And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em.” Dean finishes, “Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” With that we keep walking until we hit the same room we were in the last time we were here, not having gone any further than that the first time around.

We walk a few feet further separating into three different rooms. I scanned my flashlight over the dark room, it had no windows though even if it did it would have been boarded up meaning no natural light to begin with had it been daytime. It was a relatively small room with more graffiti lining the originally white walls. I take a single step into the room, glass crunching underneath my shoe, I lift my foot immediately, kicking the broken glass bottle to the side.

I move further into the room, an overturned desk and a long gone broken lamp on the floor. Must have been a little office, I think to myself as I walk over to the desk finding a small knocked over filing cabinet. I nudged the metal cabinet with my foot, testing to see if anything wanted to make an appearance…like a rat.

When nothing comes from it I twirl my finger, an invisible force turning the cabinet right side up making it accessible. I pull each draw open, still cautious of any critters crawling out, hoping that there would be some hint as to where to look for the unfound bodies. “Y/n” I hear my name called out from behind me.

“Yeah?” I say turning around but there’s no one there. I shine my flashlight first on the doorway, only shadows dancing on the outskirts of my light. I purse my lips, a small pinch of fear forming itself in my heart. I move my flashlight slowly to shine in the corner, every hair on my body standing up. An old man with deep sunken eyes stands in the corner, his body permanently hunched over with his head tilted to the side. Countless needles stick out from his ghostly body, piercing through his hospital gown.

My mouth goes slack with an almost scream in warning to the boys. Still the man doesn't move, he just stares at me which is arguably worse than if he lunged at me, his mouth moves as if in an attempt to say something but his jaw is broken and the words come out in an extended noise. “b….b…b—“ The loud sound of a shotgun goes off just across from the man, my head snaps in the direction of the doorway, a breathless Dean standing there his gun still pointed at the man. “We thought something happened!” Sam half yells, standing right behind his brother.

“I literally haven’t moved from here” I respond, looking back at the corner where he stood. “You okay sweetheart?” Dean asks. I nod, “Yeah, I mean he didn’t do anything he was just—“

“Standing there” Sam finishes my sentence, “See I told you!”—he nudges his brother—“There’s something weird with the spirits here, they aren’t being aggressive-“ I cut him off this time, concern and confusion making my eyebrows scrunch together, “Wait you encountered a spirit?”

“You didn’t hear Sammy scream for us? Or the gun?” Dean asks. I look between them only being more confused, “No, what are you talking about?!” Except they don’t answer, only looking at each other and then back at me, eyes wide, “Alright something really is going on” Dean admits.

They begin to shuffle out of the room, and I follow, we walk aimlessly down the hall in thought when suddenly a noise like metal scraping against the floor comes from a room just steps away. Dean immediately raises his shotgun, carefully entering the room with Sam and I acting as the lightning. The room had a singular upturned bed facing the only window in the small room, a ragged sheet covering the bed barely concealing the top of a blonde head. We all share a look, bracing ourselves, Sam reaches out tipping over the bed causing it to come down with a loud crash. A young girl sits crouched on the floor, panting and grasping her chest.

“It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?” Dean asks the poor girl, moving his gun down and away from the girl. “Katherine. Kat.” She answers, peering up at us with her big brown eyes.

“What are you doing here!?” Sam half yells at her. I hit his arm, “You suck at comforting people” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear, nearly missing the glare I received in return. I move past Dean leaning down towards the girl, offering my hand to help her up. You can comfort someone without making them seem incapable. She eyes me carefully for a beat before shakily reaching up and taking my hand, “Um. My boyfriend, Gavin” she answers as I lift her up. “Is he here?” Dean asks.

She lets go of my hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears, “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts” she explains, "I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and... “

“Alright.” Dean responds, pausing for a beat as if to go over the plan he most definitely already made, “Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.”

“No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.” Kat declares, looking frantically between us all.

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous.” Dean lectures, his voice getting increasingly louder. “That's why I gotta find him” she answers, her voice stern and straight regardless of being clearly shaken up. Dean meets Sam and then my eyes, “Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. Y/N with Sam, Kat with me. Let’s go.”

I lead the way out this time, Sam right next to me as we go down hallway after hallway. Each one seemingly more intricate than the last, if that was even possible. I hope Sam is keeping track of where we are because I’m already lost.

“Gavin?” I call out, peeking around each hallway corner. Is it possible he left? No he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend, right? Though the asylum is huge and he could be anywhere—“Y/N! Over here!” Sam calls out from down the hallway to my left. I swirl around heading towards him, crouched down near a rouge hospital bed, I hear him speak as I approach “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, I’m here to help.”

“Who are you?” He responds, fixing his brown hair as he pushes himself away from Sam knocking into the wall behind him in the process. “My name is Sam, that’s Y/N” he gestures towards me, “Uh, we found your girlfriend.”

“Kat?” He asks his brown eyes widening, he gets up revealing his height. He isn't as tall as Sam, probably closer to Dean's height then anything but he was certainly taller then me and his girlfriend. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” Sam responds.

“I was running. I think I fell.” He lifts his hand to the side of his head, his corduroy jacket moving with him. “What were you running from?” I ask.

“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up.”

“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam follows up, asking carefully. “What? No, she...uh…”

“She what?” Sam asks, impatience on the tip of his tongue.

“She...kissed me.”

…The hall falls silent, neither of us expecting that to be his answer. I’ve never heard of a case in which someone was kissed by a ghost. I mean that’s just disgusting and horrifying, no amount of mouthwash can fix that…or therapy. “Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?” Sam finally says.

“Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!” Gavin yells, his eyes widening again. “Well, trust me, it could have been worse.” Sam replies, again not much on the comforting side. Plus I feel like I’d rather be thrown ten feet then kissed by a ghost. “I’m sorry we have to pressure you like this now after you just experienced that but is there anything else you remember?” I ask softly.

“She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.” He answers shyly, almost embarrassed by all this. “What?” Sam shoots back.

“I don't know. I ran like hell.” He answers truthfully.

“That’s the third encounter without an attack” Sam thinks out loud. Gavin glares at him sharply, “Oh…Um…besides the…Uh…kissing” Sam adds.

“Can we really trust that the South Wing really did have violent patients? I mean the workers here aren’t exactly the most reliable considering everything they’ve done to these poor people” I mention.

“She’s got a point” Gavin intervenes. We both look at him, “Um yeah. But what if they were trying to tell us something?” Sam says.

“You mean like some hint as to where uh…” I look over at Gavin knowing I can’t exactly say a rotting body somewhere, “you know is” I mumble looking back at Sam. “Yeah” he answers just as a loud scream rings out from afar. We all share a look of confusion and worry, “That sounds like Kat!” Gavin says. Not waiting a second later we go off running in the direction of the screaming, just about everything you're not supposed to do.

Just down the hall Dean is banging on a huge metal door with a pipe. “What’s going on?” Sam asks just as we approach.

“She's inside with one of them.” He answers his breath a little labored. Kay screams again, “Help me!!”

“Kat!” Gavin yells back banging on the door.

“Get me outta here!” She shouts.

I hide my hand behind my hip making sure to look down, to avoid having to explain anything to Gavin later. With my concealed hand I reached it over to the metal door, my fingertips barely brushing the cold exterior before a hand wrapped around my wrist pulling it forth. “Wait” Sam said sternly, dropping my wrist. I turn my head to look at Dean with questioning eyes as if he would have a reason why his brother stopped me. But when I look at him he’s looking between my wrist and his brother, his eyes scrunched in offense and what may look like anger, upset he stopped me, because doing so might be risking an innocent girl's life.

“Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.” Sam commands, talking to Kat through the door. He must be thinking back to what we said before. “She's gotta what?!” Dean yells, astonished.

“I have to what?!” Kat shouts back.

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam explains, indeed referencing what we were discussing before I just hope he’s right, “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“You face it!” Kat snaps back. A smile threatening to show on my lips. “No! It's the only way to get out of there” Sam insists.

“No!” Kat screams.

“Sam, come on let me get her out” I say quietly hoping only those who know about my abilities can hear me. “No” He says towards me before directing his voice towards the door, “Look at it, come on. You can do it.”

She seems to listen to him, no more screams against his plan. We all wait impatiently, the air thick with anxiety, if this doesn’t work then we caused a very avoidable death. “Kat?” Gavin calls out.

“Man, I hope you're right about this.” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah, me too” Sam nods.

“No offense Sammy, but you should have voiced your concern before” I bite, crossing my arms across my chest.

Suddenly the door creaks open slowly, Kat peeking out. Her eyes are wide and blank, clearly startled and traumatized. “Oh, Kat” Gavin murmurs, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

Sam maneuvers himself around them, opening the large door further to get past them into the room. He comes back out not even a minute later shaking his head, whatever spirit was in there isn’t anymore.

“One thirty-seven.” Kay says suddenly, wiping away her teary eyes.

“Sorry?” Dean looks at her, puzzled.

“It whispered in my ear. 137.” She clarified.

“Room number.” The boys and I said in sync, our eyes wide in clarity.

“Jinx” I say quickly pointing towards the boys. Dean groans, “You always win.”

I beam, looking up at him, “You just always forget.”

“Yeah cause he’s actually focused on the hunt” Sam quipped, annoyed. “Hey I am foc-“ I try to defend only getting cut off by Sam nudging Dean and I down the hall out of hearing reach throwing a “Excuse us” to the two teens.

“Alright. So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…” Sam starts getting his sentence finished by his brother, “Then what are they trying to do?”

“Maybe they're helping us out” I shrug, “Giving us hints?”

“I guess we'll find out.” Dean huffs.

“Alright.” Sam confirms, nothing more to be said.

Dean separates from our little huddle calling out to the kids waiting on us, “So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?”

“That's an understatement.” Kat remarks.

“Okay.” He turns back to us, “Sam you get them outta here. Y/N were going to go find room 137.”

“Isn’t it best that I go with Sam?, make sure they can get out” I ask, not to say that I don’t want to go with Dean but still trying to be reasonable.

“If the spirits suddenly decide to get rowdy and gang up on me like they did Doc, I’d want you on my side” Dean answers, making a motion with his hands weirdly that I suppose is meant to represent my abilities. “Ok fair enough” I shrug, not needing any more convincing. Sam moves away towards Kat and Gavin. Dean and I waited until they were out of sight, getting led by Sam, before moving to find room 137.

We only move a few feet when I notice the lack of something in Dean's hand, “What happened to your flashlight?” I ask. He pulls back the side of his grayish-blue button down jacket exposing the thick flashlight tucked into his jeans, “Died jus’ before Kat got dragged into that room” he explains. I reluctantly drag my eyes back up to his face, a flashlight held in his jeans shouldn't have been hot, I give him a single awkward nod before forcing my eyes back in front of me.

“I think it’s down this way” He nudges my arm just as we get to the end of the long hallway, pointing left. I point my flashlight in that direction, the light illuminating the continuous mess of the asylum, “How do you know?” I ask. He shrugs, “Intuition.” I followed him down the hall even under the weak assumption, there were hardly any sign indicators and if there were they were unreadable due to destruction or graffiti.

I give him a look as we walk the hall, not finding the room. “I meant the next one over” he says with a stupid smile on his face. “Oh yeah of course” I nod, playing into whatever you want to call this.

He mumbles the room number underneath his breath, an excited-nervous energy surrounding him as we approach the supposed right hallway. It was adorable.

“Look who was right.” He says, his voice coming from behind me. I turn towards him an even bigger smile on his face, I lift my flashlight to shine where the number would be. “Let’s just hope the ghost wasn’t tricking us” I huff.

He goes to push the door open only to find it stuck on something, he grunts putting more of his body weight on the door until it’s open enough to let us through. The room is a mess (but what else is new for this place), filing cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, the walls stained with something that I think I’d rather not know. I shine the flashlight around going over to one of the filing cabinets opening it to find manila folders, I flick through them. More patient files but nothing of use as of now.

I whirl around to find Dean crouched down in the back of the room, prying off a wooden panel. He finally gets it off with a loud cracking noise, “This is why I get paid the big bucks.” he murmurs, the only indication that he found something. “You don’t get paid any bucks” I responded.

He turns his head slowly to me in offense holding up a deteriorating satchel in one hand and a mess of papers in the other. He gets up handing me the stack of papers and with his foot drags up a nearby chair scooting it close for me before dragging up one for himself. I go through my stack, a bunch of drawn images of medical instruments like lobotomy pick, straight jackets and cuffs, and other drawings with no labels but incredibly detailed writing and drawings that were nothing more than torture. “This feels like a messed up book club” I comment.

“Yeah check this out. Dr. here believed that provoking extreme anger would be therapeutic.” He explains, “Seems like all he ever did was work on this theory.”

“I think I read a research paper from 2002 on a similar idea called catharsis” I explain, “It basically means venting out negative emotions, especially anger. However researchers found it did the opposite and more likely increased aggression. But I guess in this case he was forcing it rather than the patients venting out anger they had from past traumas or anything of the sort.”

I know he is listening to my rant, his eyes moving up from the book to look at me before going back to the journal, his eyes scrunched in concern at what he read, “All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy.”

I nearly laugh when a sudden creak comes from the hall, I look to Dean to find him with just as a confused face as mine. He had heard it too. He makes a “give me” motion so I hand over the papers, he puts them and the journal he read from back in the satchel. Without saying anything I knew he was moving us to check up on Sammy.

We manage our way back to the room Kat got locked into, but from there it winds up being a maze as to where Sammy could be. Lefts and rights and accidentally going in large circles. “Alright one more hallway and then we’re calling him” I plead, getting frustrated at this stupid musty asylum. “Deal” Dean nods.

The floor was particularly bad in this hall, each step followed by a creak each one louder then the next. Just as we reach the end of the hallway and turn right, for a split second, Kat stands there shotgun raised at us, her finger on the trigger. She shoots. Dean throws himself backwards, his arm going out right in front of me pushing me back against the corner wall out of the way from danger. Both of us were up against the wall next to each other, his arm just beneath my breasts holding me in place. A large puff of white smoke looking substance flies out from the wall, bits of the wall crumbling to the floor just by Dean's shoulder opposite to the one near me. Acting as the only signs of where the bullet had gone.

Our labored breaths nearly matched each other's, chests heaving. His arm remains where it is even when no more shots ring out, he yells, “Damn it, damn it, don’t shoot! It's us!!”

“Sorry! Sorry.” Kat meekly cries out.

“Jesus Chri-“ I peered around Dean's body at the shot, she would have killed us. Impressive. I bring a shaky hand up to the arm that still held me, he drops his arm allowing me to move past him and round the corner to the people who nearly ended us.

“What are you still doing here?! You're supposed to be gone! Also, why are you good with a gun?!” I exclaim. Dean immediately adding, “Where’s Sam?” Our rushed voices combining for a melody of pressured questions.

“He went to the basement. You called him.” Gavin answers, pointing to Dean. “I didn't call anybody.” Dean replies, looking at me confused I shrug not having any idea myself.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.” Kat elaborates.

“Basement, huh?” Dean hums before turning to me, “I’m gonna go to Sam, get them out of here.”

“Wait no I should come with you” I say.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart, just get them out of here” He orders, but his voice is soft where it should be commanding. He takes the gun from Kat and before I can say anything more he’s running off.

I turn towards the door, trying to think of the least suspicious way possible to open the door. A chain with a lock lies on the floor just in front of my feet. It must not just be a locked door, perhaps it is the spirits here keeping it closed. I pull on the door handle letting my powers seep into the large door willing it open. It opens with another pull, having to use a lot of strength to open the old door. “Alright let’s go” I say, turning to the two behind me. They look at me with a mix of shock and confusion, “How di-“ Gavin asks before I cut him off, “It was just jammed” I lie.

I follow them down the steps and watch them climb over the fence. I wait until I see them physically get into the car, both kids looking back almost hesitant to leave us behind. But I have no time to help with their guilty conscience, I turn back toward the building immediately running up the steps and back into the asylum. I curse not knowing which way Dean exactly went or where the hell the basement was let alone where a staircase was.

In the dim, haunting corridors of the abandoned asylum, panic pulses through me like a heartbeat. The suffocating air clings to my skin as I navigate the labyrinth that is this building. Every step feels like a hesitant dance with the unknown. I try to suppress the fear clawing at my throat, envisioning worst-case scenarios involving Sam and Dean. Could they be hurt, trapped, dead? My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, one that feels too overwhelming to control as pathetic as it sounds and feels.

Desperation fuels my movements as I sprint down seemingly endless hallways, each one a haunting replica of the last. It's a macabre maze, and my heart races with the urgency of finding the elusive staircase leading to the basement.

As I turn another corner, the harsh silence amplifies the echoes of my footsteps. "Sam! Dean!" I call out, my voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness. The only response is the distant moan of the decaying building. With determination fueling my every step, I press forward, driven by the desperate need to uncover the secrets hidden below. The dim light casts distorted shadows on peeling wallpaper, playing tricks on my eyes. Yet, I press on, the image of the elusive staircase driving me forward, my breath a rhythm of fear and determination.

As if the old building heard my pleas I spot a door just at the end of the hall, a medal bar for the handle and if it isn’t my eyes playing tricks on me then a small sign signifying a person walking up stairs lies on the small window on the door. I all but ran over, the thing I needed most lying right there. As I push open the door, anticipation and anxiety rests behind my rib cage, a reminder that finding the door wasn’t enough. I still needed to find them.

However, as the door creaks open, my heart sinks. Before me lies a staircase, but it ascends rather than descending. Everything that I do not need. I was being mocked. The staircase leading upward into the unknown when my every instinct demands a descent into the depths below.

I stand at the threshold, contemplating my next move. Panic threatens to resurface, but I force a deep breath, I know what I must do even when it is foreign to me. I had not trained in it, hadn’t studied it enough, so much of me was like that. So many abilities I could have and use but always dared to leave untouched, this being one of them. I knew only how to use it in such short distances, and only in spaces that I could see. Not like this.

But I’m afraid and desperate enough. I know the boys are very capable of taking care of themselves, yet an unmistakable fear lives behind my rib cage for those I love, a fear of losing them. I close my eyes. This staircase had to be close enough. My fear had to be enough. I force another deep breath, bracing my feet beneath me. I could picture the room around me even with my eyes sealed, focusing on how the walls stretched above me in my mind's eye.

I had not seen the basement, hadn’t a single idea what it even began to look like. Yet still I force my perception down, below the concrete laying underneath my shoes. But more than that I needed to find them, I try my best to picture them specifically even in an unknown location. The air seems to ripple around me, reality folding over itself.

I open my eyes, no longer in the stairwell but presumably in the basement. The only indication I’ve gone to the right place is the boy's only feet in front of me. What should be a triumphant moment is crushed under the scene in front of me.

Dean is on his back splayed across the floor, broken wall beneath him the concrete powder sticking to his clothes. Sam is standing over him, shotgun pointed down at his brother, I can not see his full face from here but I can see it is etched in anger. “Sam!” I yell, catching his attention. He turns to me, his face scrunched in disgust, he does not lower the gun.

“What the hell is hap-“ I try to ask but the gun goes off with a loud bang. Suddenly I’m in front of him, the bullets hitting the hall that laid behind me when I stood in the doorway. I teleported out of danger without a second's thought, I make a mental note for later as I punch Sammy square in the face, my knuckles hitting against his sharp jaw.

He stumbles back a few feet, my knuckles burn, he will have to forgive me later. I do not want to hurt him but I do need to stop him. I mumble a sorry, hooking my leg behind his, hitting into the back of his knee with my foot forcing his legs to collapse beneath him knocking him to his knees. I use his shock as leverage, easily pulling the gun from his hands, I point the gun at him even though I do not want to.

Dean groans still on the ground, only having leaned up from his position. Sam holds his hands up, “Shoot me” he spits. He was taunting me, testing me. “I have no need to” I answer calmly. He was possessed or influenced by the doctor here, this wasn’t really him, I knew that.

I hear Dean get up, panting and making small noises of pain. I look over at him from the corner of my eye, watching him hold just below his chest in pain, “You okay there?” I ask, earning a grumbled “yeah”. Dean drags himself to the front of the room where he must have dropped the duffle bag he was carrying.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam try to lunge towards me, I snap my attention back to him “Hey”,I warn, “Stop.” He looked even more pissed, his mouth twitching with words he wanted to say, “You think protecting him is gonna make him fall in love with you?” He says quietly. I check behind me but Dean makes no indication that he heard, I know it’s not really him speaking but the words still sting. “I’m not that diluted” I answered, turning back to him.

“You follow him around like a lost puppy, it’s pathetic” He laughs, “Really, you follow us around. But we don’t need you, we’d be better off without you. All you do is take up space.” The words bite into my skin, my heart suddenly feeling heavy. Losing my firm stance he grasps onto my ankle pulling it towards him sharply, knocking me on my ass hard. He punches me, his fist connecting with my nose, my eyes tearing up on its own accord with a harsh throbbing. He snatches the gun back when I hear movement towards us, without looking I shout back “I can take him, just find the body!”

Sam straddles my lap, his knees pinning my hands to the floor with an incredible amount of pain, and I can not pull my hands free. He grabs my chin roughly forcing my gaze on him, my neck leaning up at a weird angle, “You feel the need to be with us, it’s the only thing that fills the gap of being left behind your whole life.”

Hurt and anger burn my eyes. I move my face out of his hold and he lets me, I lean my head back before slamming it into his. The resounding clash of our heads echoed through the air, an abrupt collision that sent shockwaves of discomfort rippling through my skull. He loses slight balance, his knees leave my hands the feeling rushing back into them but I do not leave time for feelings of victory. I shove him back, using more force than I probably should have.

I stand up swiftly, stumbling over myself slightly, my head throbbing severely. “You” I point, breathing heavily, “Have a hard head.” He tries to reach for the gun but I kick it out of reach before he’s able to.

I knew Dean was close by even with the room being so large and divided, but I didn’t know how close he was to finishing up. There was a strong sense of dread in my stomach, I don’t want to fight anymore, maybe curl up into a ball and contemplate life but not fight. “Please, stay down” I beg, my eyes still teary from a mix of a reaction to the pain and just being upset.

He leans up, that horrible anger still etched on his face. I hold my hand up at him, extending my force outwards pinning him down with an invisible force. He struggles against it, his arms shaking. I grit my teeth, disgust tangling itself in my gut. Yes this was out of self defense and necessity but this wasn’t me. He was my friend, to restrain him in such a way…with my abilities…when I’m meant to help people.

I force my face away, a lump tight in my throat when I catch my reflection on a piece of broken glass in the far edge of the room. It was if I was being teased by the devil himself, staring at a reflection I wasn’t sure I even recognized. My eyes were fierce yet brimmed with tears, my pupils glowing purple. Where did this lie in morality? It felt wrong. So disgustingly wrong even if it was meant to be helpful.

Only a little longer, only until the remains were burnt and Sam was fine. “Y/N”

“Y/N!” He begs.

I turned my head back to him, the anger previously on his face melted away. I immediately release my hold on him, dropping my hand down swiftly. For a moment there it seemed fear had crossed his eyes, I took a step back lifting my hand to my forehead, a thin line of sweat wetting my face. My chest heaves, complete overwhelm filling my senses. I feel it in my bones this need to move, to get out. It had not taken anything out of me to hold him down, and that is what scared me the most.

Dean shuffles back into view, coming over and helping this brother up. When had he walked over here? I take another step back, their voices meshing together in a blob of incoherent sounds. A strong familiar hand grasps my upper arm, I look up at Dean, his eyes scrunched together in concern. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, but his voice seems so far away. I look over at Sam, a bruise already forming on his jaw a reminder of what I had done. I find no fear in his eyes any longer, not even as he rubs at the forming mark. I nod absent-mindedly at Dean's question, though it wasn’t true and he had known that too.

He gives my arm a firm squeeze before sliding it down slowly to my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I look up at him again, but his face is turned away already walking towards the duffel bag bringing me along with him. He doesn't say anything about holding my hand, not even as he leans down to the bag swinging it over the shoulder that is opposite to where I stand.

He leads the way out of the basement, Sam following behind us silently. I let him lead me, just staring down at our intertwined hands. His sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, ‘must have done that when he left us before. Holding hands wasn’t totally uncommon for us and we both happened to be touchy people, even so butterflies danced in my stomach.

When we finally reached the exit, the early morning sun had begun to shine through the clouds. Every one of our movements was done in silence, he let go of my hand only until we climbed back over the fence. The second both our feet had hit the ground he claimed it once more.

Just a short distance away Kat and Gavin lean against their car, my eyes scrunch in confusion. I thought they left. “What are you guys still doing here?” I call out from a few feet away. They analyze us, probably noticing the clear sign of a fight and who I’m holding hands with but I do not let go of his hand, and he makes no move to do so either. “We wanted to make sure you got out” Kat answers, crossing her arms across her chest, “And to say thank you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gavin adds in.

“No more haunted asylums, okay?” Dean replies. They nod and get in the car, this time starting it up.

“Hey, guys?” Sam says quietly as we begin to walk towards the Impala. He gets in front of us, walking backwards so we couldn’t ignore him, “I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there.”

I frown, not wanting to be reminded of something that happened only minutes ago. “You remember all that?” Dean scuffs.

“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it.” He says making sure he directs it at both of us.

“You must believe it on some subconscious level…right?” I say. I do not mean to come off harsh or make him feel worse about himself, but he had to feel that way on some level. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I suddenly feel bad for what I said, “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?” He insists.

Reaching the Impala Dean unlocks the car, opening my door with his free hand but I make no moves of getting in just yet. He lets go of my hand, moving to the back of the car to throw in the duffel before rounding the rest of the car to the driver seat. Just before he gets in he answers his brother, venom clear on his tongue, “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.” He slams the car door behind him.

I look over at Sam, total defeat written all over his face. I move past the car door moving right in front of Sam, he looked down at me expectantly. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him. We will go to a motel and sleep the night off, and I don’t want to go to bed upset. His initial surprise wears off and he hugs me back, I pull away slightly. “You said mean things and I know you're sorry, but they still hurt… I’m not mad at you for thinking like that, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt us.” I say softly, I don’t like being angry at someone or holding grudges.

His eyes are filled with desperate sorrow as he says, “I’m sorry.” He hugs me tightly adding a quiet, “thank you.” And I knew he had meant for just talking to him about it even if it was only a little and for not hating him. We pull away from each other, and he ruffles my hair like an annoying brother before getting in the Impala. I move past the open door again, this time getting in.

Even after a nice hot shower and being all cozied up in the motel bed, sleep still could not find me. I groan frustrated, switching positions for the upteenth time, glad that I had my own room so as to not wake anyone.

I shift again, moving onto my back, the memories of what happened earlier playing through my head on repeat. Whether Sam meant it or not he was right. They didn’t need me, they were more than capable by themselves. Maybe I should go back home.

I could call Adeline, ask her if she could pick me up from the airport and take me home. The plane ride wouldn’t be so bad, I just have to figure out how to get to the airport with no car of my own. But that thought upset me more. I’d go home and worry over the boys excessively, where they were, how they were doing, if they were safe or even alive, if they found their dad. Maybe I was a burden to them.

God. And what I did to Sam? To use my powers like that?! Though I guess before the whole fight the teleporting was quite impressive especially because I am not skilled in that.

I want to be the best, but I'm afraid of what that would mean. What I would become.

I shift again, my feet tangling under the heavy covers. I sit up letting the blankets fall to my waist, and without thinking I pick up my phone dialing in her number. I had no idea what time it was in New York City but I knew she didn’t care about that sort of thing, she would pick up regardless of time or what she was doing. The phone barely gets to ring for a third time when she answers, “Hey Addie…”

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #dean winchester x witch reader #the hunter and the witch update #the hunter and the witch #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester being a cutie #dean winchester x you

[starkskypines]

Next of Kin

noooo the beginning of this episode 😭

seeing the aftereffects of a suicide attempt is so heartbreaking

MEAN HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS ARE THE WORST I HATE THEM

May is the best and she deserves the best and I want to hug her

Athena cares about her family sm and that’s the most admirable quality

Awh Chimeny is proposing what a cutie

Rip to Chimney he put his heart out there and he’s getting shot down basically

Buck and Hen playing firefighter video games ahdlfjdks I love that

“Did you offer her the option of an open marriage?” Yeah Buck you aren’t straight

Oh Bobby honey now isn’t the time

Yeah Chimney you ask him

Ohhhh oh oh this argument is bringing up so much stuff so many different issues that were clearly never discussed

Oh shit that wife comment because Bobby doesn’t have anyone 😭😭

NOOOOO CHIMNEY NOT A CAR WRECK NOOOO THIS IS WHY WE NEVER GO DRIVING WHEN WE ARE EMOTIONAL PEOPLE

the lesson I’ve learned from all the media I’ve consumed is to never operate a vehicle while emotional

insanity insanity poor Chimney my dude this is so intense holy shit

“Our job ends here at these doors like always.” something something something about the nature of this line

everytime the Chimney with rebar stuck through his head thing comes up all I can think is that rebar should not have killed Dean Winchester

“I’m not a saint. I’m a daughter.” -Abby. Oh that line hits hard.

“You always answer” okay that’s so sweet actually

“And the only two things I can think of to help him are to pray and to hope that if you’re with him he’ll feel that love for you and give him a reason to fight his way back to us.” -Bobby. That hits like crazy when you think of the latest season lolololol

All of them being there and talking to Chim in the coma and crying and Bobby holding Chum’s hand and the “that’s alright his family is right here.” TWO EPISODES AGO HE WAS SAYING THEY ARENT FAMILY AND NOW!!!!!!THE DENIAL OF IT ALL BUT THE TRUTH IS ALWAYS THERE

GOD THE FOUND FAMILY TROPE ALWAYS MAKES ME FERAL I LOVE THIS

#pls I’m crying over this episode it’s so good #911 #911 1x03 #tw: suicide #kywatches911 #i had to stop in the middle because a tree limb fell on my car 🙃 #it’s not badly damaged but Jay most certainly has a shiny new dent in the roof

[sylvanfreckles]

Nice Day for a...Wait for It (3 of 5)

(For Alt. 13: Crutches)

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: G General Warning: chronic illness, internalized ableism, disability, violence

Summary: Sam and Eileen's wedding is just a few days away, and Dean and Castiel join them for some relaxation at the hotel before the ceremony. But Winchester Luck strikes again, and they find themselves at the center of disaster as secrets are uncovered. Cas has gotten stronger since the ritual that tore his grace away and left him human, but will it be enough when he's targeted by a malevolent spirit? (Read on AO3)

...

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

(Thus Spoke Zarathustra - Frederick Nietzsche)

...

Sam trailed Eileen into the antique store and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of knickknacks and furniture crammed into the tiny space. There was an entire wall of clocks, for one thing, and he vowed to be out before the top of the hour when they’d all start to chime.

“Oh, hello!” A gray-haired, matronly woman waved to them from the counter. “Good to see you back, my dear. Did you come for that little table?”

Eileen hooked an arm through Sam’s and pulled him forward. “Still talking him into it.”

Sam tried to smile, but the spirit that had attacked Dean and Cas the night before was weighing heavily on his mind. “I actually came to ask you about something else.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, by all means, ask away. You were right, he’s a cutie!” She added the last part in a loud stage whisper to Eileen, making her laugh and Sam fidget with embarrassment. “Now, what were you wanting?”

“Our friend, he was in here with my fiancée yesterday? He bought a Christmas ornament?”

“Yes, the darling man in the wheelchair. He was a cutie, too, you can’t keep them all to yourself, girl.”

Sam gave an awkward smile as the woman addressed Eileen again. “It’s just, it’s a lot like the ornaments my mother collected,” he interjected, pulling the woman’s focus back on him. “We lost them all in a house fire when I was a child, and I was hoping you might have a few more?”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” The woman shook her head. “No, that was the only one left. They were all from an estate sale about a month ago, I barely had them in the store before someone snatched the whole lot up. Well, except the one your friend bought. I didn’t find him until last week, and I was just thinking I should contact the other buyer to see if she wanted mister mushroom.”

“I see.” Sam feigned a disappointed expression and turned as if to leave the shop. “I don’t suppose…can you tell me who bought them? It’s just that it would be such a nice surprise for my mother.”

The woman hesitated, though only for a moment. “Oh, I just can’t say no to you. Don’t think it’d do any harm…it was Emily. Emily Townsend.”

“Townsend?” The name sounded familiar, but Sam couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes, she runs the River Oaks Hotel, down on second street. Always puts up a big Christmas display every year, right after Halloween. She bought every last ornament, except the one your friend found yesterday.”

Sam shared an alarmed look with Eileen, then thanked the woman and hurried out of the store to where Dean was waiting with the Impala.

…

This was ridiculous.

While the others had gone to interview the woman at the antique store, Castiel had been left at the hotel with strict instructions (from Dean) to stay in bed and wait for their return. Dean had left him with a salt ring around the bed, and a crowbar and sawed-off shotgun close at hand in case the spirit returned.

Which it wouldn’t. It had obviously been connected to the mushroom ornament, and they had destroyed all remnants of that as soon as Dean had been able to get out to his car for more supplies. Dean was just being overprotective, as usual.

Cas swung his legs over the edge of the bed and picked up his crutches, which had been leaning against the wall. He was doing no good sitting here when he could at least be exploring the hotel. Even though he was human now, there was still a chance he could pick up on things that the Winchesters missed. He slipped his phone in his pocket, the ringer left on silent, and limped his way out of the door into the hallway beyond.

It was late morning, so the hotel was fairly busy. He kept as close to the wall as he could, not wanting to get in the way of guests and staff, and picked his way in the opposite direction of the lobby.

The River Oaks Hotel was only two stories tall, with an elevator in the central corridor. Cas avoided the elevator and chose to follow the cross-corridor down to its end. There was an external door that led out to the parking lot, and doors for a conference room and business center.

He shuffled back when the business center door swung open, and one of the hotel staff came out with a garbage bag in her arms. “I think there’s more toner in the basement,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yuck.” Another staff member followed her, lugging a vacuum cleaner and caddy of supplies. “I hate going down there, it’s so creepy with all that crap Emily keeps buying.”

Cas watched them go, interested in their conversation. Sam and Dean hadn’t mentioned anything about the basement. He slowly followed the hotel staff toward the lobby, trying to look like he was just getting some exercise and not paying too much attention to them. Luckily, the crutches seemed to make him almost invisible to the people around him, for all he felt like he stood out more. Like people took one look at him and dismissed him as beneath their notice.

It was even worse in the wheelchair, but Dean didn’t understand that. He didn’t understand the feeling of countless eyes judging and weighing you and finding you lesser.

They went through a door marked for hotel staff only, and Castiel shuffled over to a display of tourist brochures where he could keep an eye on the door but not stand out too much. He didn’t have to wait long until they came out again, both pushing large housekeeping carts.

He waited until the hall was empty, then made his way through the door to the staff only area. Immediately, something felt wrong. The hair on his arms stood on end and a headache pricked at the edges of his eyes. The staff area was just a modest set of lockers on one side and a collection of housekeeping supplies on the other, with a passageway at the back leading to the hotel’s industrial washing machines.

There was an unmarked wooden door next to the washing machines, and when Cas pushed it open he found a set of uneven stairs leading down below the hotel. He could see a few rows of wire shelving piled high with storage containers, from sagging cardboard boxes to brightly colored plastic totes.

He stared down the stairs for a long moment. He could make it down them and explore the basement. Might even find the source of the haunting. But he was unprepared for such a task and, truth be told, his legs were starting to ache from walking up and down the hall. At least he had a lead now. He had proven himself useful in this case, despite his physical limitations.  

Cas started to turn to make his way out of the staff room when something grabbed at the bottom of his crutch and yanked it sideways, into the basement. He released it with a surprised grunt and clung to the doorknob for support, the other crutch clattering down after its mate. His skin was crawling now, and the pain in his head had spread down to his neck and shoulders.

His legs gave out, and he dropped to his hands and knees to crawl away from the basement door. Pressure was rising in his ears, like it had in the room last night. Suddenly, the overhead lights exploded, raining glass and sparks down in the darkened room. Cas curled up with his arms over his head for protection, only to feel something latch onto his foot and pull him toward the basement.

Scrabbling for a handhold, he managed to catch the rickety banister at the top of the staircase. It creaked and groaned under his weight as Castiel fought to pull himself up.

The wood gave with a snap, and he hurtled down the stairs into the silence of the basement, landing painfully on his side on a large crate. Pain flared up his side, his chest suddenly almost too tight to breathe. His entire body ached from numerous impacts, and he let himself slide to the floor with a moan of pain.

One of his crutches was nearby. Cas managed to push himself to one hand, though he nearly collapsed back down as his ribs protested the movement.

He crawled. Inch by painful inch. His fingers brushed the smooth aluminum, and he tugged the crutch closer. The basement was barely lit by a single overhead lamp, and he stared around the shadows until he located the other crutch closer to the stairs.

Cas let out a huff of exhaustion, though that tore at his chest and he had to stop moving until the pain receded a little.

It was then that he heard it. A deep, ominous creaking.

He looked up in time to see the wire shelves swaying back and forth, before an unseen force sent them crashing down on him.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5)

#whumptober2022 #no.10 #alt.13 #crutches #supernatural #fic #internalized ableism #ableism #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #eileen leahy #destiel #saileen #hurt/comfort #hurt castiel #castiel whump #the flare 'verse

[ladyknightskye]

So I saw an old Dean x Lucifer beauty and the beast au idea my cousin showed me on this blog and we were talking bout what if Michael did the same thing with Sam and take him to Heaven in a Usagi/Serenity-Demande situation from sailor moon at the same time. Maybe he would kidnap him himself and maybe be nothing but a gentleman towards Sam who’s still not sure about Heaven or the fact he’s getting treated like he’s some sort of queen or princess. Maybe Michael saw Sam’s soul like Lucifer saw Dean’s and decided that an ethereal beauty with a soul like that would be his

I had to actually go look up this other ask you speak of! (Also, please by all means, spitball fic ideas with me I love talking Ducifer. And MichaSam.)

So, not gonna lie, I'm not a huge fan of the Serenity-Demande comparison because the creepiness of the manga version of that storyline is like, emblazoned on my brain, but still, I get what you're saying there. (The original anime version does live in my memory as an example of the good one-sided E2L dynamic)

Of course, as much as I like your scenario here, my mind is all about the comedy of errors, so WHAT IF - Luci and Micha grabbed the wrong brother? Like, check it, end of Lucifer Rising, the boys aren't saved by God, the two archangels go to grab their vessels, but in the confusion and the shock of seeing each other for the first time in millennia, they accidentally grab the whole-ass wrong vessel. Lucifer drags Dean off, and Sam ends up in the Green Room. So, instead of going back to the other brother and being like "Hey, I think this is yours" they just keep the Winchester they grabbed.

Sam's over here, being a curious cutie, asking Michael all these questions about Heaven, and the afterlife, and how does this work? And Michael's like, why - why do I like this??? And Sam's all, "I wanna be a good person Mr. Angel Man," and Michael's like he's Lucifer??? But wants to be under my command??? How??? I -????

Meanwhile, Dean's paling around with Lucifer being a bitchass to him, and Lucifer likes it because they sing Zep, drink too much, and call Michael a pussy. It's like hanging out with Michael before Creation and without the huge oak tree up his ass.

The fact that all four of these males are basically attracted to some version of their brother is referenced but never truly discussed. Yay co-dependency!

Castiel is there. Because I love Cas and I say so, but he is the one person who sees the writing on the wall, and instead of doing what everyone else is doing (re:making sure the apocalypse goes off without any further hitches) he decides to play Cupid. He does it horrendously badly. Bobby of all people ends up helping him.

Chaos of course, ensues.

#ladyknightrambles #spn #answered ask #Lucifer/Dean #Michael/Sam #castiel #silliness

[timecryptid]

Having a bit of a crisis but you know what? It’s Diary of a Wimpy Kid time baby.

Greg’s voice is a little deeper. He’s also clearly older.

Just full on open showers man. You’re definitely seeing some old guys dick in there. Or maybe your brothers.

That PSP drop. And now no one uses them anymore. I don’t even know if my teenage sister knows what that is.

That high school that Rodrick knows defiantly wants to duck Susan. Which I understand and agree with.

Holy shit that boy definitely changed. And he’s absolutely a milf fucker.

And the amount of pee in pools is one of the big reasons I don’t like public pools.

I also am a indoor person and spent all my summer in doors. Although I was the kid who just wanted to read. Not video games.

Girl Holly is 7th grade going on 8th. I don’t think she’s getting married dude.

The last day of school is the day you turn in your textbooks.

Holly is absolutely out of Greg’s league. She’s way too good of a person.

Holy shit Hollys sister is hot. Me and Rodrick would be friends. We have the same tastes in women.

I agree with Greg and Frank on Li’l Cutie. Looks annoying.

So does no one else want to use that TV? It’s the living room.

“Just finished up some sports”

Is Rodrick laughing that Greg’s not being alllowed video games or because he knows his father is useless and can’t unplug the Tv?

I love that Susan is trying to get Greg and Frank to get along. Also Greg and Rodrick are sitting way to close on that couch. It’s completely empty and Greg sits right next to his brother that he hates.

If my dad forced me to get in a boat with him to fish on the weekend during the summer I would drown myself. Fishing is boring and I hate boats.

I would join Susan’s book club. Not just because I love reading. I love Susan.

Rowley offered to bring you to a country club. A bunch of rich people get together. I would go. The food is bound to be amazing.

As a slight history fan I would also be board by a reenactment of the civil war. I’m just curious which team Greg and Frank are on. I’m assuming the Union as they win the battle.

What an internship? It’s like a job where they exploit young kids who need the work and experience and they don’t pay their worker. Totally not slavery with extra steps.

Greg really is a huge liar.

I’m not surprised that Patty’s parents are apart of a country club. She feels like the type. But seriously I still love Patty so much. Aggressive and loves beating the shit out of boys. Love that in a girl. Also I would not be surprised if her and Greg got together years in the future.

I really am just learning that I like bitchy women.

I also love piece of shit men.

The dog hates Greg and I get it.

Are you kidding me? Rodrick is the type who would love to visit a country club but no one would like him there. But he could pay for it. So they have to let him be there.

So is Greg’s fake break up going to be with Holly this time?

They keep trying to convince me that Rodrick is considered a loser but he would be getting so much pussy. Has a band, shitty but not too shitty, and hot. He is not a loser. Sure so don’t think he’s super popular but I’m thinking young Dean Winchester kind of popular.

They’re sharing ice cream? I’d rather die.

Oh my god it’s Mr World Wide!

If someone got decapitated and on a ride the ride would not still be up. I’m just skipping this but just in case.

Seriously dude you have a phone. Just use that to call for help.

That is not how 911 works. Like at all. They would have done nothing because Greg didn’t say anything.

I love Rodrick and his weird relationship with Rodrick.

Damn this time it’s Rowley being the one to lie.

Greg is a pathological liar.

This little girl is the best.

Seriously just tell Holly that you are now fully nude. Better then her finding out by looking down and seeing your dick. Or even worse. Patty seeing it.

At least Holly didn’t see you in the tiny pink shorts with Princess on the ass.

The conflict starts so late in these movies I swear. An hour in and nothing has happened that isn’t just disconnected mess.

Just throw the pot roast away. Nope they’re just going to eat it?

I do know that Rodricks love song for Heather is viral on TikTok and it is an embarrassment. Seriously.

Rowley Greg lies all the time I think that he’ll understand.

It’s not with Holly that Greg’s lies get out of hand it’s his dad his lie with Holly has been discovered with Dad however.

So his fake break up is with Dad this time.

Holy shit Frank said the line!!! I’m not angry I’m just disappointed.

It is no coincidence that the boys in Spag Union saluted and really weirdly in their promotional video.

I’m assuming he’s not going to Spag Union.

This movie has some rather violent things. Disney would never let them say things like decapitation and that someone cut off their hand.

That is definatly not camping.

This camp leader is almost certainly a racist. I can just sense it. And like the type who is in the KKK. That kind of racist.

Ah Frank. And you made two mistakes. We’ll see how Manny turns out.

You should fire your ice sculpturist.

Girl you should not be looking forward to this performance. It’s going to be bad.

This is already the worst rendition of Justin Beibers Baby. And not only are we only a few seconds in but also I already don’t like the original.

Y’all Rowley is and will always be popular with the ladies.

I mean it was good but I think I like the other two better. It’s just not the same.

#coming out of the woods #I haven’t dieced if I’m watching the 2017 one #I’ve never seen it but I heard it was bad #I might skip to the 2021 version #we’ll see tomorrow

[sunwarmed-ash]

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

omg so fucking many. Here's as many as my brain can think of rapid fire from my ao3 list

Hankconvin & hankvin1700 and any iterations of the DBH boys,

Steddiegrove and any mix of the Stranger Things dumbo boys (Steve Eddie Billy, sometimes jonathan)

Drarry always-JK is a CUNT.

Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Roy/Jamie, Ted/Trent, Keeley/Rebecca, Roy/Trent 👀 (may the fic finish itself soon) from Ted Lasso

Peter Parker/Eddie Brock/Venom, Peter Parker/Harry Osborn, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Matt Murdock, Petercest, Starker, Peter Parker/Anyone (Andrew!Peter was the one I grew up with <3 I love him with pretty much anyone and he's got so much potential for tragic backstory with all of them. I love love Tom's too :D he's such a cutie and Tom is also a really incredible human being and actor. Hard to choose a fav Peter when every one I've seen has been amazing!)

John Bender/Andrew Clark from the breakfast club. I do love me some enemies to lovers and this fucking movie. Enough I wrote 54k+ of fanfiction for it

Wincest, Sam/Dean Winchester- Sorry not sorry, I clearly labeled to dove in the freezer DO NOT EAT!

Marty/Rust-True Detective. BRING ON THE DYSFUNCTION

Izzy/Blackbeard, Steddyhands, blacksteade, teal oranges from OFMD

Nick/Schmidt from New Girl

El/Q from Magicians

Ryan/Jim from the US The Office

Johnlock, Hilson, any version of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes that is not a cis het pairing

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

oh man, I feel like this is a rarepair question. Let me check the ol' archive....

hahahahaha well this is gonna give away more about me than I probs want, but we got some Norman/Peter Parker in here, Swayze and Sam Elliots characters in Road House👀🌶️,

oh man my ST mutuals got me allll into Robin/Heather, I can't stop thinking about them and Heather and Billy being cunty bffs

Ooooo spanish Jackie and Jim 😍, Izzy & Lucius from OFMD

I also guess I ship Ted and Rebecca now. I didn't until that last fucking episode and I saw all four of them in her house and I went. OH. Okay yeah I get it now.

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

oh yeah hahaha I probably started fan shipping in my early teens and it was either Draco/Harry or Max/Jude from Across the universe <3

thanks for the asks, they were really fun!

#max answers #ash answers #find me on ao3 #link in bio #sunwarmed ash #sinful sunday #detroit become human #stranger things #true detective #the breakfast club #ted lasso #spiderman #into the spiderverse #harry potter