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#like i said i too have the winchester derangement
fanfictionalraven · 1 month
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Piece by Piece Pt. 1
Title: Piece by Piece Pt. 1
Summary: Nearly 18 years old, the reader runs away from a bad situation. On her way, she meets a handsome stranger running from his own problems.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters mentioned
Word Count: 2,422
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and abandonment, implied smut
Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.
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The snow was coming down heavier now than it had been when you’d left. Stupid, channel 10 weatherman. He’d said the snow would let up overnight. He didn’t say a blizzard was moving in. You didn’t have a winter coat – or a plan for that matter. You’d just wanted out. So, you’d thrown together the few belongings you’d amassed over your past 17 years and climbed out of the second story window. Well, more like you’d fallen from the second story window, twisting your ankle in the process.
Now, here you were. Middle of the night in the driving snow, limping down the side of the road. You had originally thought you would be able to hitch a ride but not a single car had passed by in the hour you’d been walking. You needed to get as far away as you could before they woke up. You couldn’t go back.
The road suddenly lights up and you hear the sound of an engine approaching from behind. You turn and shield your eyes from the headlights as you stop and hold your thumb out. That’s what they did in all the movies. The women also generally showed a little leg but you weren’t stupid. It was dangerous enough being a 17-year-old girl out in the middle of the night by herself asking complete strangers for rides. The vehicle slows, coming to a stop next to you. You pull the handle on the door and quickly slide into the passenger seat, immediately thanking whatever entity was listening for the radiating heat inside.
“Where you headed, Sweetheart?” The driver of the car asks. You look over at him for the first time and your heart nearly stops. He was gorgeous, probably around your age. In his bright green eyes, you could see – concern? Why was he so worried? Did you look like a deranged serial killer?
It wasn’t until he reached over and turned the heat up even more that you realized you were shaking so profusely. You hadn’t noticed how cold you had actually gotten standing out in the snow. You probably would have drifted into hypothermic shock if he hadn’t come around that corner when he did. Your savior quickly sheds his leather jacket and reaches over, draping it around your shoulders.
“Th-thank you,” you tell him through chattering teeth. You pull the lapels of his leather jacket tighter around you and his scent envelopes you immediately; a mix of the leather, cologne, and earth.
“Where you headed?” He asks again. You frown and shake your head slightly.
“As f-far away from here as p-possible,” you admit. His response is unexpected. He laughs. You look at him and his smile is breathtaking, highlighting two perfect dimples in his cheeks.
“You too, huh?” He asks. It takes a second to register then you smile as well. He was running away too. He puts the car in gear and slowly continues down the road. “I’m Dean by the way. Dean Winchester.”
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you tell him. The two of you ride in silence for a few minutes as you bring your body temperature back up to normal. Once the shivering subsides, you glance over at him. “So, Dean Winchester, what are you running away from?” He lets out a sigh and you see his hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“My dad – he’s got some pretty high expectations. Got tired of it,” he says. You nod and he cuts his eyes over at you. “What about you? Family trouble?” You shake your head, looking out the window at the driving snow.
“No. I don’t have a family,” you say. You know he’s still waiting for you to explain. You hesitate for a moment then sigh. “My mother got pregnant when she was just a kid, 17, my age. Neither of my parents wanted me so I’ve been in the system since I was just a baby. I was with this one family, the Baxter’s, till I was 13. They were great. I thought they were going to adopt me but…I don’t know. One day, they called my social worker and told her to come get me. I’ve been in eight different homes since. And this one…it’s not a good place. I’m almost 18 but – I don’t think I can handle another 3 months.”
“Sounds like a damn good reason to me,” he says. You glance over at him, surprised. You’d expected him to press you for more information, ask you a ton of questions you didn’t want to answer, but he didn’t. He let it go and, instead, punched in the cassette tape that was sitting half out of the player. The sound of a lead guitar fills the car as you ride on into the night.
Eventually, the snow gets too heavy to keep going. Dean pulls the car off onto a side road and parks between a couple of trees. He turns the volume down so that it’s just background noise then turns to face you. You expect those difficult questions now but that’s not what you get. He asks you your favorite color, movie, song, book. And you ask him the same questions. The two of you spend the next two hours playing 20 Questions, or 120 Questions more like.
“And Sammy got mad, threw the ball at me but he missed and knocked out the back windshield,” he laughs. You smile and shake your head, watching him. His smile falls slowly as the memory continues to play in his mind. “He was scared to death. I told Dad it was my fault.” He looks at his hands, an unspoken truth hanging in the air between you. Sliding across the seat, you take his hands in yours.
“Sam’s lucky to have you. I’d give anything to have someone love me the way you love him,” you tell him. He smiles slightly then turns your hands over in his. He carefully pushes the sleeve of your shirt up. You watch as he gently runs his thumb over the small circular burns that pepper your inner arm.
“You know, I’m not sure I like the idea of you out on your own,” he says, glancing up at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, fighting a smile.
“Oh? Why’s that?” You ask. He looks up at you fully now and the look on his face is one you’ve seen already, when you first got in the car – concern.
“There’s a lot of bad stuff out there, Y/N. Evil stuff. Monsters,” he says. You smile a little sadly and look down at your arm again.
“I already live with a monster,” you tell him. He shakes his head, letting your hands go. You return your attention to his face to find he appears torn, as though there’s something he wants to tell you, something he needs to tell you. He’s searching your eyes for an answer to an unspoken question. You bite your lip then takes his hands in yours again. “What is it, Dean?”
“You’ll run if I tell you,” he says. That sentence should scare you, but it doesn’t. He says it with so much care and concern. Something deep inside tells you that you’d never run away from him, no matter what he says or does and that scares you. But he’s worried about you and you can count on one hand the number of people in your life that have been genuinely worried for your safety and well-being.
“I don’t scare easy,” you tell him. He looks at your hands then closes his eyes and for a moment you think he’s praying; praying that you’re right. You squeeze his hands and he sighs before speaking.
“Monsters are real, Y/N. I don’t mean just bad people. I mean…monsters. Like vampires and werewolves and ghosts and — when I was four years old a demon killed my mom. So Dad, he packed me and little six month old Sammy up and we’ve been hunting down these monsters ever since, trying to find the demon that got Mom,” he confesses.
There’s nothing but the sound of the wind and Bon Jovi playing quietly in the background as his words hang in the air. Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Demons. Dean looks up at you slowly, trying to read your face but years of practice help you keep your emotions in check. You take your time, processing each word carefully. Finally, you look out the windshield at the snow.
“One of the houses I was at, I was sure it was haunted. No one else believed me but every night my room would get so cold and I could hear a girl crying. But I was the only girl in the house. Then finally I saw her. She was in the corner, crying. They were convinced I was crazy, had me taken away the next day,” you say slowly. You look at Dean to find he’s watching you and you smile. “Joke’s on them, I guess.”
“You believe me?” He asks, staring at you as though you were telling him monsters were real. You let out a light laugh and nod.
“I don’t claim to know everything or have all the answers to life’s questions so yea. I’m sure there are plenty of unexplainable, paranormal things out there,” you tell him. He gives you a big, goofy grin that makes you laugh even harder. “So…if I can’t go out on my own because a…goblin is gonna get me…”
“Goblin? Really?” He asks, laughing now. You smile, watching, as he leans back against the door, shaking his head. “Sorry, Sweetheart, but David Bowie isn’t gonna come kidnap you.”
“Didn’t have you pegged as a Jim Henson fan,” you say, smirking at him. He smiles and shrugs.
“You watch whatever you can growing up in motels,” he explains. You nod then look at your hands, still intertwined with his own.
“Okay, no goblins then. I can’t go out on my own because a…vampire?” You ask, looking back at him. He nods once and you continue. “A vampire might attack me. What do you suggest I do then?” He smiles a crooked, half smile and shrugs his shoulders.
“I was thinking – maybe – instead of dropping you off at the Greyhound station in the morning, we could stick together,” he suggests.
“You asking me to run away with you, Dean Winchester?” You ask, watching him. He shrugs again. You smile a sad, knowing smile and shake your head. “No.”
“No?” He asks, surprised. You shake your head again and look at your hands.
“No. See, you don’t really want to run away. You’re just mad at your dad right now. You’d want to go back to him and to Sam,” you tell him. His face falls and he looks away, knowing you’re right. “And me, well – I know what’ll happen to me if I run away. I’ll end up on the street, a nameless victim for some monster, human or otherwise.”
“You’re going back there??” He asks, looking back at you quickly. You smile and reach up, placing your hand against his cheek. That same concern was back in his eyes, his beautiful green eyes that you never wanted to forget.
“I am. Sure, it’s bad, but…I turn 18 and graduate in three months. I’ll be able to leave and get some help with college and work. Lesser of two evils,” you explain. He still frowns, unsure. Your smile slowly turns into a smirk. “Besides, aren’t you 19? I don’t think this counts as running away anymore.” That makes him smile before chuckling.
“Yea, pretty sure we’ve crossed into grand theft auto,” he says, nodding slightly. You laugh and now it’s his turn to smirk. He sits up, leaning in towards you slightly. “Guess that makes you my accomplice.”
“The Bonnie to your Clyde?” You ask. He nods and you just catch his eyes quickly dart down to your lips. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth for a second then let it go. “How mad is he gonna be?”
“I’ll just tell him I was rescuing this girl from a goblin,” he tells you. You throw your head back laughing and he smiles widely, showing off those dimples again. “Ya know, it’s crazy. We’ve known each other barely three hours but…I’m really gonna miss you.” You smile softly and put your hand against his cheek again.
“Me too,” you say quietly. You see his emerald eyes drift down again, slower this time, before returning to your Y/E/C ones. Your fingers slide back into his hair before you lean in, pressing your lips against his. His lips are soft and timid at first, unsure of your intent. You move forward, slowly straddling his waist. His hands find the edge of your shirt and his fingers just graze the skin underneath, sending a shiver down your spine.
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Dean finds a blanket in the backseat as you slip into his flannel button-up shirt. He smirks as he watches you before pulling his jeans back on.
“What?” You ask, laughing. He shrugs slightly.
“Looks better on you,” he says, pointing to the shirt. You smile as he lays back on the seat before laying down next to him, curling into him quickly. He throws the blanket over the two of you then wraps his arms around you tight. “You sure you don’t wanna go on back? Sneak back in and avoid trouble?” You shake your head quickly.
“Can’t sneak back in. Besides, I’d really rather stay here for a few more hours,” you tell him. He nods and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“Alright. Sweet dreams,” he whispers into your hair. You close your eyes and quickly drift off to sleep.
The next morning, Dean drives you back to the house. You share one last kiss that neither of you wants to end before he drapes his leather jacket back over your shoulders. You get out of the car and trudge up to the house slowly, knowing you’ll never see Dean Winchester again. When you get inside, the family isn’t happy like you knew they wouldn’t be. You return to your room, fresh wounds on your arms. Later that afternoon, a man knocks on the door, asking to speak to you. He says he’s with the FBI and asks you about the bandages on your arms. Before he leaves, he speaks to your foster parents alone in the other room. They don’t touch you again after that.
Read Piece by Piece Pt. 2 here.
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we could be more | dean winchester | finale
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Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.
SERIES MASTERLIST
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE: PART TWO
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DARKSIDE - NEONI 
“Mini-“ 
“I don’t want to hear it.” I whispered, staring out into the unknown from the front porch of the house we’d taken rest in. “I just don’t.”
Bobby sighed. “You can’t blame yourself for Sam.” 
“I can. I was there. I could’ve killed Jake seconds before it happened had I just let go for a second like I did with Ava. And now? Sam’s dead.”
”You’re deranged, mini. You’ve done the best you can and considering the circumstances, you did a damn good job of it.” 
“Everyone’s dead except that kid Jake who deserves to be ripped limb by limb.” I growled, standing up. “I know I’m gonna see him again. And when I do? Hell, I’m gonna kill him. And I’ll make sure he regrets living before he goes into the fire.” 
“Hey!” He frowned. “Don’t lose yourself in this.” 
“I lost myself in hell, Bobby, I’m long gone.” I seethed. “Every gash, the torture, the watching others being tortured- it eats away at you. Tears you a new one. A worse one, and I loathe how I turned out. I can’t look at my family the same after learning what kind of a man I was born from. What my sister became- heck, what my brother could’ve been. It’s pure pain. Sam was… an out. An amazing, kind, caring out. A way to think about what relationship I could have had with my siblings if they were alive. Now Sam’s dead. I’ve lost that too. That means I’ve lost my fight.” 
“I know you must be feeling helpless.” Bobby appeased, giving me a sympathetic look. “Feel it, feel it all if you can’t help it, but Dean in there? He needs you more than ever.” He started to walk off, but I held his shoulder. 
“Where’re you going?” 
“Dean doesn’t need me anymore. He told me to leave, but you know where I’ll be.” 
“C’mere.” I hugged him tightly, and he allowed me to, thumping my back. 
“You’re a strong kid, mini. It’s not your fault your dad was a coward.” 
“It never will be.” I smiled, then watch him leave. I walked into the house, finding Dean at Sam’s bed. 
“Don’t tell me to bury him.” Dean snapped, his voice breaking. “Don’t tell me to torch him either.”
“I won’t.” I shrugged, sitting down beside him. 
“Then? It was bad enough losing you at first, now Sammy? What are they gonna do, gank Bobby next?” 
“The kid won’t, but Yellow Eyes might.” 
“What d’you mean?” 
“He came to me.” I muttered. “Told me that this was a survival of the fittest deal. Then he said I wasn’t in it.” 
“Son of a… why weren’t you?” 
“He said that I’d rip each and every one of them apart if I wanted to. And god, I wish I’d ripped Jake limb from limb if I’d gotten the chance.” 
“Is that really Ivy talking?” He stood up, and so did I, holding my head. 
“It’s 100% me, Dean. I, cold blooded, shot Ava. I didn’t care about Lily and I was about to deliver a finishing blow to Jake with a metal pole but somehow I decided against it. Hell changed me. I don’t know what happened in there, but it changed me. Sam’s dead, I know, and all that’s replaying in my head is how Carter died and how I could’ve stopped that too but I was too damn weak to, and now Sam took a blow because of pure fate. Don’t let all this change you. Don’t do anything stupid, Dean, please just don’t.” 
“I won’t.” He agreed, and then he hugged me, detaching and leaning his forehead on mine, cupping my cheeks. “I won’t.” 
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I walked in to find Dean prepping to go somewhere, and… Sam. 
Sam.
Alive. 
“Where we going, boys?” I asked, giving Dean a look. I know what you’ve done. 
“Bobby’s.” Sam smiled. 
“It’s great to have you up and about, Sam.” 
“Great to be up and about.” 
“To the Impala, then.” We went to the car, getting in and driving down to Bobby’s in silence. We went to the door, and Bobby opened it, his eyes widening a bit when he saw Sam. 
“Hey, Bobby.” Sam grinned.
“Sam. It's good to... see you up and around.” 
“Yeah ... thanks for patching me up.” 
“Don’t mention it.” Bobby then turned to me, patting me on the shoulder. “James knows you’re alive, but…” 
“I know.” I nodded. 
“Do what you’ve gotta do.” I took out my phone, dialling James. He picked up immediately on the other line, and I sighed. 
‘Ivy?’ 
“Yeah, it’s me.” 
‘You’re alive. Bobby was right. I-I thought that you…’ 
“I’m alive, yeah. My dad made a deal with a demon to save me.” I then bit my lip. “But now I’m involved in something big. End of the world big, and you need to be safe.” Bobby handed me a map of omens, and I spotted Southern Wyoming as a safe place. “Get to Southern Wyoming. Hide, take as much salt, holy water, iron, the works, as you can. Just get to safety.”
I could hear a sigh on another line. ‘We can’t see each other anymore, can we?’ 
“No, we can’t. At least, not until all this is over, which will take a hell of a long time.” 
‘I get it. At least I’ll know that my ex-girlfriend helped stop an apocalypse.’ 
“Stew in that, Lieutenant.” 
‘Gladly.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ll miss you, Ivonne Rainer.’ 
“As will I, James Rhodes.” I smiled. “Bye.”
’Bye.’ I then turned to Bobby. 
“What am I looking at?” 
“Omens are popping up everywhere.” He grimaced. “Everywhere but Southern Wyoming. It’s like demons are surrounding it or something. I need you and Sam to find out why while I chat with Dean.” 
“You better, before I give him an early ticket.” I gritted my teeth, then nodded. “I’ll do it. Figure something out.” 
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I was mapping things out when Ellen came in with Dean and Bobby, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Ellen.” I grinned, hugging her, and she returned it, trembling. “I’m glad you’re ok.” 
“I’m glad you’re alive.” She retorted. “I’m sorry about Mick.”
”He was better off dead.” I huffed before pulling up a chair. Ellen sat down, and Bobby poured her a shot of holy water. 
“Bobby, is this really necessary?” 
“Just holy water.” Bobby shrugged. “Shouldn’t hurt.” 
She swallowed the water, giving Bobby a look. “Whiskey now, if you don't mind.” 
I passed her a shot of whiskey, and Dean sat down, leaning forward. “Ellen, what happened?” 
“I wasn't supposed to get out. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck.” She sipped the whiskey with a scoff. “Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes.” 
“I’m sorry, Ellen.” Sam grimaced. 
“A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live.” She scoffed again. “Lucky me.” 
“Ellen, you mentioned a safe.” Bobby frowned. 
“Secret safe in the basement.” 
“Demons get what’s in it?” 
“No.” She put down a map, which had Xs on it. I picked it up, studied it for a second and then took a book out of my satchel, turning the pages. 
“Friggin’ hell.” I muttered, drawing a line connecting the Xs. 
“What?” Dean asked. 
“Each of these X's is an abandoned frontier church— all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt.” 
“Samuel Colt? Demon killing, gun making Samuel Colt?” 
“Yep. And from church to church, he built underground, hidden railway tracks, connecting every dot until…” I grinned, “he made a 100 mile Devil’s Trap.” 
“Beanie, you genius.”
”I've never heard of anything that massive.” Ellen breathed. 
“No one has.” Bobby shrugged. 
“And after all these years none of the lines are broken?” Dean asked. “I mean, it still works?”
”Looks like it.” I nodded. “Demon omens are circling this place. They’re trying to get in, but can’t.” 
“Why’re they trying to get in?” Ellen frowned. 
“Bang in the middle of this place, there’s an old, abandoned cowboy cemetery.” I pointed to it on the map, then looked up grimly. “I don’t think Colt was trying to keep anything out. I think he was trying to keep something in.” 
“Well, that’s comforting.” 
“Could they get in?” Dean asked. 
“No.” I shook my head. “They’d need something as powerful as an A-bomb, H-bomb, heck, even the Tsar Bomba could work.” 
“The Tsar What-A?” 
“Nuclear bomb made by the Soviets. Still the most powerful nuclear weapon to exist. Only something roughly like that could rip this apart. Unless you make someone who’s not a demon cross the line.” 
Then it hit me. 
“Jake.”
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“Howdy, Jake.” Sam seethed, all of us surrounding him as he approached the crypt. Jake looked stunned, and I knew why. 
“Wait... you were dead. I killed you.” He stammered, but Sam chuckled. 
“Yeah? Well next time, finish the job.” 
“I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord, man. You can’t be alive, you just can’t.” 
“Okay, just take it real easy there, son.” Bobby warned. 
“And if I don’t?” 
“Wait and see.” Sam smirked. 
“What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do— kill me?” 
“It’s a thought.” 
“You had your chance. You couldn't.” 
“Alright, then.” Sam nodded tauntingly. “It isn’t my mojo. But it’s hers.” He inclined his head towards me, and Jake spun around, seeing my eyes glow blue. 
“You’re not gonna lift anything.” He smirked, then turned to Ellen. “Hey lady, do me a favour. Put that gun to your head.” Ellen shakily agreed, putting the gun to her head. “See, that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn.” 
“Let her go.” I demanded. 
“Kill him.” Ellen whispered. 
“You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off.” Jake taunted. “Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart.” Everyone but me and Ellen put their guns down, me because Jake most likely didn’t know I had one. “Okay. Thank you.” He turned around, pulling out the Colt and putting it into the crypt. I immediately pulled the gun away from Ellen’s head, my eyes turning red as I held out my hand, my powers dragging Jake to me so I could hold him by the neck, rage surging through me like it was addictive. 
“Which way do you wanna go, huh?” I sneered, tilting my head with a grin. “I could switch off your brain, rip your guts out, but no, that’s too quick for you. I have a better idea.” I reached out, putting my fingertips around his heart. He started twitching, graining is pain as I retracted my hand, red wisps of energy following and slowly feeding small tendrils into what formed into his heart, pulsing, still beating. 
“Please.” Jake whispered. “Don’t do this, please.”
“Do it.” Sam snarled. “Kill him.”
“You’d rip them apart.” 
And I want to. 
“Please-“ I snapped my fist shut, bursting the heart and killing Jake, his body going limp as his head lolled forwards. I threw him down onto the ground without a second thought, my eyes returning to their normal colour. 
“Beanie?” Dean spoke up. “That you?” 
“Who else?” I snapped, staring down at Jake’s body before stepping over it. The two runes on the crypt spun in different directions before stopping, and a sense of apprehension immediately took over me. 
“Oh, no.” Bobby whispered. 
“What is it?” Ellen asked. 
“Hell.” Dean pulled the Colt from the crypt, and we all stepped back as we heard a lock click. “Take cover— now!” We dived behind headstones right as a door burst open, clouds of black smoke flying everywhere. 
“What the hell just happened?!” Dean groaned, taking cover next to me. 
“That’s a Devil’s gate!” I yelled. “A damn door to hell!” 
“Come on! We gotta shut that gate!” Ellen cried out. 
“If the demon gave this to Jake…” Dean muttered, fiddling with the Colt, then maybe-“ The gun flew out of his hand and landed in Yellow Eyes’, who smirked. 
“Boys shouldn’t play with Daddy’s guns.” He sneered, throwing Dean aside. Then he turned to me, chuckling. “I knew putting you in the game would be unfair. Poor Jakey didn't stand a chance. And now his heart's gone." 
“Shut up.” 
“I’m gonna make you in the meantime.” He forced Sam and I against trees, shrugging at Sam. “I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you— knew you had it in you.” Then he faced Dean, throwing him against a post. “Sit a spell. So, Dean... I gotta thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people, unless a deal is made. I know, red tape- it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation. Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake, anyhow. Tell me— have you ever heard the expression, ‘If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?’” 
“You call that deal good?” Dean scoffed.
“Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. Michael never got a good one either. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean... you saw what your dear Ivy just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back, is 100%, pure, Sam? After all, Beanie came back a changed badass, didn’t she?“ He chuckled. “You of all people should know, that's what's dead, should stay dead. Anyway... thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.” He pointed the Colt at Dean, but I saw the ghost of John Winchester creeping up behind him. And he wasn’t alone. 
Carter’s ghost was with him. 
They grabbed a hold of Yellow Eyes, making him drop the Colt. I broke free from his telekinesis with a burst of blue light, picking up the Colt and aiming it at him. 
“I shot the wrong guy with this when I first used it.” I seethed. “Not this time.” I fired, and it hit him right in the heart. I ignored the falling body, instead turning to Carter, who I realised I was walking towards. He gave me a smile and joyful salute, and I did the same, wiping a tear from my cheek as he disappeared with a white light. 
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When we got to a motel, before we went inside, I took Dean by the arm, smiling at Sam like nothing was wrong. “You go in with the others, Sam, we’ll catch up.” 
“Ok.” Sam nodded awkwardly, then headed inside with Ellen and Bobby, both of whom nodded in a way that said ‘give him hell.’ 
And hell I gave him. 
The moment he was inside, I spun Dean to face me and decked him in the jaw, making him hold it with a groan. 
“Again?!” He hissed, but I didn’t care. 
“You did it, didn’t you?” I fumed, and he looked startled. 
“Wh-“ 
“Don’t you dare ‘what’ me, Dean, it’s a simple question, yes or no. You did it, didn’t you?” 
“Yes, I did!” Dean burst out, throwing his arms up in the air. “I put my profile in a box, buried it and sealed the deal.” 
“After I told you not to do anything stupid?!” I scoffed. “Dean, that goes beyond the laws of stupid! How much time do you even have left?” 
He remained silent, turning away. 
“Dean.” 
Still nothing. 
“Dean!” 
Why wasn’t he saying anything? 
“ANSWER ME, DAMNIT-“ 
“A YEAR!” He yelled, turning back around. “I have a year, ok? The damn demon wouldn’t settle for anything else!” He saw me just standing there and held out his hands, waiting for an answer. “Ivy?”
“YOU FRICKING IDIOT!” I screamed, pushing him. “Are you that desperate to limit your chances of living? Do you think that low of yourself? I know what your dad’s done to your protective instincts, Dean Winchester, but he seems to have done nothing for your own survival.” I pushed my finger against his chest, my eyes flickering red for a moment. “Because you feel it’s so necessary to protect Sam and I and blame yourself if we get hurt- just cut it! Because I’m done! Time and time again- I can’t stand it. I’m not going to sit here like your dad did and watch you throw away your life-“ 
“Then don’t.” He whispered, but it cut through my words like a yell. “Leave. Don’t watch me throw away my life.” 
I instantly deflated, setting my jaw. “You can’t be serious.” 
“Deadly.” He seethed, gritting his teeth. 
I shook my head, the winding coil in my head snapping suddenly. “Fine. Congratulations, though, you just killed yourself.” 
“I did it for a reason! Sam is my family, but you wouldn’t understand that, would you?” 
“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shrugged, biting back tears. “Even though I had two boys who I’d give my life for in a heartbeat. Or at least I did.” I turned on my heel, walking back into the motel. The first thing I did was grab my spare clothes from Jo, Sam’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion once he saw what I was doing. 
“What happened?” He asked. 
“Ask your brother.” I retorted, taking out the keys to my Mustang and getting in, flooring it. 
“Dean, what the hell?” Sam turned to Dean, gesturing in the direction of where I drove off. 
“I don’t know.” Dean whispered, breathing heavily and unable to take his eyes off where my car once was. 
“Seriously, man, what the hell?” 
“I don’t- I don’t know.” He gulped, running both hands through his hair. “What have I done?”
PREVIOUS
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castielsprostate · 8 months
Note
Would cas fuck Jensen ackles if he had the chance
now THIS is a good question. THANK you anon.
i think, first off, we need to establish a season, because castiel is a totally different angel man by the end of spn and his priorities, wants, needs etc. are drastically different.
season 4, no. he wouldn't fuck jensen ackles because he looks like dean, he has seen dean's soul and he has a connection to dean. jensen ackles may look like him, but castiel is a smart angel, he can still differentiate. he might try to smite jensen at first glance actually. at this point jensen ackles may have caught DWDS (dean winchester derangement syndrome) but it would be in the end beginning stage.
season 5, still no but castiel would get used to jensen. maybe a chaste kiss? a tiny nip? but not too much. jensen, however, he is DOWN to fuck castiel.
season 6, they make out but castiel has other priorities. would he fuck jensen if he had the chance? maybe!! but he's too busy and things keep popping up. jensen is jensening. the DWDS is getting stronger.
season 7 is a no </3 rip.
season 8 is a change. season 8 he is 100% ready to receive a jackles sacrifice (a jacrifice). he's down to fuck and get it. jackles has the DWDS BAD. he's showing all the symptoms and unfortunately there's no cure from this point onwards.
season 9. human castiel would FUCK jensen ackles no questions asked. if jensen said please castiel would be getting down on his knees and doing whatever he wants. if jensen said now castiel is ripping that man's clothing off.
i think from then on it's a definite yes. jensen is basically dean by that point anyway. i think during the divorce arcs castiel would ice jensen out but he'd still be there yknow. just not dropping to his hands and knees.
season 15 is again fuck city for jestiel. they'd be going at it. jensen basically doesn't exist anymore. it's just dean winchester. so to castiel, really, there is no difference anymore.
so the conclusion is YES, castiel WOULD fuck jensen ackles if given the chance, just not the first one he gets. but he would <3
(godstiel, casifer, endverse!cas all would fuck jensen also no questions asked)
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aishitara · 1 year
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what did jackles do???? what did he do???
oof, at this point, what hasn't he done? okay, so, first i must gesture to ::all of JIB:: that con was absolutely unhinged. A+ cockles content, but also jensen said some really lovely and thoughtful things about Dean, and his relationship to Cas, which i believe is super relevant because me and my small group of friends who suffer from Winchester Derangement Syndrome are 99.9% sure The Winchesters is not what it is on its face, and is in fact jensen's own fix-it for the series finale of spn. which in and of itself is amazing. boy really said 'i fucking hated that ending, gonna go write a new one' like the (secret) fangirl he is. this week's episode of TW (1x12 "The Tears of a Clown") felt so lovingly directed at all of those folks (obviously, myself included XD) who've been clowning about destiel from the beginning, and tbh the resolution to the motw made it feel like the message of the episode was: telling the truth turns clowning into reality. i intend to edit this response to include a frame from one of the panels at JIB, because someone asked what the reunion between Dean and Cas would look like, and jensen gave what seems to be, these days, a very jensen answer which was to answer seriously and then pass it off as a joke (like the ily --- like a bro thing from VanCon back in october of '22). but i think the smile on his face screams "i know something y'all don't know" and it has sent me. i could also talk about the very destiel-flavored lyrics from the newest Radio Company album, too, but i don't know if tumblr posts have a word limit 😂 lol thanks for asking and sorry if this is more long-winded than you were expecting. you were my very first ask and i may have gotten carried away! 😅 eta 03.02.23: please ignore my fuckery i forgot how tumblr works for a hot minute
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iamthepulta · 11 months
Text
The Story of Morgan
@harvestar
So our Skyfarer campaign was supposed to be a oneshot put on by the extremely generous @nicholas-the-paleomancer, but we loved it so much we decided to keep playing (and it didn't seem like the pandemic was going to end anytime soon).
We broke it up into seasons. Midway through Season 1, the DM asked all the PCs a very innocuous question: "Did your character have anyone they were particularly attached to growing up?" and I was like- "Hm. I suppose... a friend? sister? Idk, kinda estranged because Arthur keeps her busy. Maybe kind of weird too?" and the DM went SURE THING. I KNOW WHAT'S UP WITH HER.
In the moment, I kinda nodded- yeah, cool beans; we're definitely going to have some sort of flashback next session. cool, cool cool- Wait. Westlie's definitely crushed about having a sister she left behind, isn't she? Oh she definitely is- Oh god, Arthur is such a dick, what happened? What does her sister even look like?
Which IMMEDIATELY AND VIOLENTLY kicked off a stream of not-yet-named Morgan and Westlie brainrot. We had the episode, which was a completely normal episode with a small flashback, instigated by the Storm-that-Speaks. Then we continued playing and finishing Season 1.
In the meantime, I slid rapidly downhill as I panicked about Westlie becoming captain, her new sister Morgan, (getting chased by the Glorious was, funny enough, not at all something Westlie or I worried about?). I wrote a whole bunch about Westlie's backstory, Morgan's backstory, them together, Arthur trying to pry them apart, and then Season 2 started.
Season 2 opened with Westlie getting a letter from Arthur that said, "Morgan ran away. You should probably find her. Also bring her back because I need someone to be my heir now, btw fuck you."
I dissolved.
In game, New Winchester was in the middle of a siege and we were hired by a Revolutionary party to carry information there. (We as a party had accidentally kicked off a second war with the Reach in Season 1), and we hoped that news about Morgan would be there too.
That was the longest fucking seven sessions in my entire goddamn life and the most deranged Westlie I have ever had the pleasure of being.
I had nightmares about them. Westlie and I were convinced that Morgan was all right (because she was always all right) but haunted by the thought she might not be. And even when we finally reached Leadbeater, IT TOOK TWO SESSIONS TO GO IN THE FUCKING JUNGLE. I SWEAR TO GOD @nicholas-the-paleomancer.
At one point I texted the DM past midnight sniffling, begging him not to plan to kill Morgan off, or at least make it feasible to rescue her because I couldn't stand the thought of them never reunited.
In the meantime, as I was dissociating watching my mental stability plummet from the pandemic and a bad living situation, I started wondering why the fuck I was so worried about it. And... that was a can of trauma worms I absolutely did not expect to uncover.
So we found Morgan. She was not okay, but I rolled like garbage on all the conversations that mattered, so Westlie was oblivious to the signs until Chorister bees with Morgan riding one, attacked the Pyrrhus. Then the rest of Season 2 was a deep depression and feral resolution to get things back to normal until we succeeded. xD
But the brain rot did not go away.
It's still here. 👍
(Please feel free to chime in if desired, @nicholas-the-paleomancer.)
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draculagerard · 11 months
Note
if you would pretty please ignore the fact that i'm sending this 4 hours after I said I started the episode that'd be cool thanks <3 k so basically I took tiny notes while watching the episode (you gotta watch this stuff in moderation or else you're gonna turn to goop) so this is A: unfiltered Belle thoughts and B: the real life closest you'll get to me live blogging spn
Ok ok so I’ve seen the pilot before obviously but like actually what a traumatic start like fr even just thinking about it as it’s own thing it’s just woah wft
ADRIANNE PALICKI?!?!?!?! I FORGOT SHE WAS IN THIS I LOVE HER
Y'know what? Dean breaking in and fighting Sam in the middle of the night is realistic sibling representations me and my brother are like that too
“Dad’s been on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days” WHAA WHOMP
Yo fuck their dad actually
Ghost lady has her reasons. I trust her
Actually after consuming some media from like America I’ve realized the my understanding and usage of salt circles vastly varies from other people’s because in my culture when we put sal- [GUNSHOT] <- I’m protecting you from a whole spiel of random facts
Yeah ok when doors with locks like those lock it’s stupidly hard to unlock them without the button but it’s not impossible come on man
KILL HER WITH GUNS I GUESS (also she totally had her reasons I still trust her. God forbid women do anything)
Mmmmm gotta love that good old 2005 CGI
ADRIANNE PALICKI NOOOOOO
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[end belle deranged ramblings I do have a meme tho 1 sec]
dont worry i feel that for rea. but also feel free to send me unfiltered thoguths i will enthusiastically read an essay of incoherent thoughts
YEAH !!! SHES HERE
for REAL oh my god
say the line Dean!!!!!
FUCK their dad. i hate John Winchester fuck his stupid ass
yeah
NOO not my random facts........ Belle...... i need to know
YEAH SDKJDSKJF
FAIR WARNING. this is literally the entire fucking show. hold on i have a post about this too
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DFJFJDS yeah it's so funky
YEAAAHHH RIP TO HER FOR REAL
episode one comes to an end <3
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castielmacleod · 1 year
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Hi! Was there any indication that Castiel ever knew about what happened to Crowley when he was captured by Salmondean at end of Season 9 and begining of Season 10? I think he was aware that they were trying to "cure" him by injecting sanctified blood, but I don't think he actually witnessed any evidence of what happened to Crowley as a result of the failed cure. Did he know that Crowley did have some of his humanity back? Did he know about Crowley's human blood addiction?
Did he know about Crowley's affection for Dean? I know all the shippers talk about his jealousy for Crowley constantly but I think his hostility towards Crowley would be consistent with his distate for Crowley's demon status (angels have a deep-seated contempt for demons, as Naomi said they are "unclean") and let's face it their history of antagonism. He didn't seem to know about "summer of love" because in the phone call with Sam it was clear neither of them had any clue what was Dean doing. But later, was there any indication that he knew Crowley had "winchester derangement syndrome" (other than the cut scene with Rowena)? Perhaps when Dean handed the first blade to him instead of Crowley he saw the hurt on Crowley's face? Or did he just interprete it as Crowley being sour that he lost the first blade? Did he consider it fair game to deceive and manipulate Crowley?
Then, did he notice Crowley's affection for him? Crowley flirted with him of course but he must have written it off as a kind of insult or just a mannerism?
Or was he too preoccupied with the Winchesters and his self-condemnation about heaven and the need to make amends to see any of it? Was it not until they had the talk after "Rock Never Dies" offscreen when all of this came to light? Was Castiel remoreseful that he never really saw Crowley for who he was?
Sorry for the long ask, but since you made me into a crowstiel believer I am having all sorts of crowstiel questions.
Hello hello!! No honestly thank you so much for this ask, I love talking about Crowstiel so much and I’m more than happy to share my thoughts on all this!
From what I can remember, I don’t think Cas has any idea that salmondean have Crowley imprisoned until Road Trip, which is like midway through season 9. There’s a deleted scene from that episode where Cas and Crowley actually get to talk (albeit very briefly) about their respective near-human experiences, which you can see in this gifset. I wish I had a link to the actual clip but I’m sure it’s on Youtube somewhere lol. Of course the scene was deleted because tptb LOVE cutting Cas and Crowley content but it’s real in my heart.
I don’t think Cas was aware of the full extent of Crowley’s addiction at that point, but if he was it would have been through salmondean’s perspective unfortunately, i.e. probably not very fair to Crowley at all and just a lot of hand-wavy “Crowley was being ridiculous” rather than actually explaining why Crowley was doing it and how he ended up addicted in the first place. I like to imagine Cas and Crowley would have had a deeper conversation about this circa season 12 though, where Cas would hear Crowley’s side. I haven’t really considered Cas’ reaction to all that before so I’ll have to think more on it but knowing Cas, he probably would have felt a lot of sympathy.
Next… yeah as much as heIIers just love to imagine that annoying and frankly demeaning “Cas and Crowley petty catfight over the boy they both like” thing, I actually don’t think Cas had much of a clue that Crowley was in love with Dean for a while. I can’t remember anything that would indicate that other than the First Blade incident like you mentioned, so I think if Cas was going to put two and two together it would have been in that episode for sure because Crowley literally does come running and freely hands over the blade for no reason other than the fact that he likes Dean. Especially if you factor in yet another deleted scene between Cas and Crowley where they both call Dean the other’s boyfriend (yeah). You can watch that one here. Other than that, there aren’t any instances where Cas uses Crowley’s feelings for Dean against him that actually made it into the show—iirc the most Cas does along those lines is tease Crowley about wanting to save Rowena in The Foundry. So I guess I’d say Cas’ awareness of Crowley’s affection for Dean, and willingness to be petty about it, exists in a weird canon-adjacent grey area depending on how much weight you want to give cut content!
Overall though I definitely agree that Cas’ issues with Crowley are NOT about Dean and more about the way their season 6 partnership went up in flames + the whole ingrained This Is A Demon And Demons Are Abominations thing. Between Uriel referring to Ruby as a “stain” and what you mentioned about Naomi it makes sense that Cas would have a lingering sense of that as well, in conflict with (what I consider to be) a repressed fondness for Crowley.
My OWN interpretation is that Cas intentionally holds Crowley at an arm’s length and pushes him away, partly due to everything above but also because Castiel thee self-loathing angel of Thursday wholeheartedly believes Crowley should hate him. For betraying him in season 6, and then even more so the longer Cas performs antagonism toward him. He wants Crowley to hate him, he wants Crowley to give up on him, because it would be easier that way. But Crowley just doesn’t ever seem to truly hate Cas back or stop forgiving Cas for things or stop actively seeking out Cas’ company for whatever reason or discontinue his attempts at flirting (this all being due to the sheer depths of post-curing ritual Crowley’s sentimentality and desire for companionship of course—he hasn’t let Cas go and honestly can’t, because they have history and Crowley will latch onto that with anyone) and it makes Cas uneasy because he thinks he doesn’t deserve any of that from Crowley and this complicates literally all of their interactions until like literally the last third of season 12. That’s just how I imagine it though.
So I think all that plus everything else going on (and going wrong) in Cas’ life especially by season 12, between the Winchesters and heaven and Lucifer and Lily Sunder and all his guilt, I’d say that the notion that Crowley was maybe a little bit in love with him was far from top of mind until Rock Never Dies like you said, where there was definitely some kind of recognition or conversation offscreen following Crowley’s decision to stand beside Cas against Lucifer and getting beat to hell for his sake. I don’t think Cas would realise that he himself is maybe a little bit in love with Crowley until 12x12 though. I think it was you who made a post about Cas seeing Crowley bathed in blue light when he breaks the lance to save Cas’ life, and tbh I can’t pick a better moment for the realisation to click for Cas that Crowley might genuinely be the person he’s been trying to find in Dean for years. And yeah I’m sure Cas would have felt a lot of remorse and guilt, even, for pushing Crowley away for so long and not opening himself up to making amends sooner and for refusing to see Crowley for who he actually is, and so forth. I also think Cas being as messed up as he is would then feel even more unworthy or undeserving of Crowley’s positive regard in general as a result. Nothing that can’t be worked through, but Crowley would really have to beat it into his head at first and literally just be like “well too bad” to him acting like Crowley shouldn’t love him. Or at least that’s how I’d write it! I’m sure there’re other ways to work it out.
Anyway I hope this helped to answer your questions! I’m totally happy to talk more about any of this, whether it’s assessment of canon or just things from my own imagination lol.
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sylvanfreckles · 2 years
Text
The Walrider: Pt 1 of 5
(For Day 02: Nowhere to Run)
Fandom: Supernatural x Outlast Rating: M Chapter warnings: references to unethical and inhumane psychological practices and experimentation Story warnings: intense violence and gore, eventual body horror, references to torture
Summary: Run, hide, or die.
An investigation brings the Winchesters to Mount Massive Asylum, a supposed research hospital deep in the Colorado mountains. But what they thought was a run-of-the-mill exorcism turns into a terrifying tour of hell on earth as they come face-to-face with the inmates of a place built to feed off of their worst nightmares.
And deep at the heart of it lies something ancient and dark, waiting for its chance to walk the earth again.
...
“You sure it’s up here, Sam?” Dean asked. The Impala’s headlights were doing little to cut through the dust on the mountain road, and with no streetlights and an overcast sky there was little else in the way of light.
Sam was squinting at his phone, though it was good for little more than a flashlight now. “Cell service cut out a couple miles ago, but there haven’t been any side roads. If Charlie’s info is right, it should be right up ahead.”
Dean grunted in reply. “Speaking of that, go over the info again, where we headed?”
“Mount Massive,” Sam explained. He pulled a slim folder out of the glove box and flicked on his flashlight to read the papers. “Used as an asylum for the ‘criminally deranged’ in the nineteen sixties, shut down in the seventies after three staff members were killed by patients. Reopened five years ago by the Murkoff Group, a humanitarian organization claiming to research the ties between mental illness and certain kinds of violent crime.”
“So, what, guy shoots up a convenience store so he must be crazy?”
Sam pulled a face. “Unfortunately, yeah. It seems more like a modern Lombroso theory than any actual psychology here.”
“Lomb what now?”
“Lombroso. In the nineteenth century he theorized that crime was inherited, and you could predict if someone was going to be a criminal by studying their facial features.”
Dean looked at his brother, barely keeping his eyes on the road.
“What?” Sam finally snapped.
“Nothing, he just might have a point. You look like someone who murders all the fun in the room the moment he walks in.”
Sam let out a heavy sigh and straightened the papers in his hands. “Anyway, like I said, Murkoff’s been up there for about five years now, but no research has actually come back out. Patients go in, but nothing comes back. Families have to sign over all rights, can’t even get word if anyone’s still alive up there.”
“Except Charlie’s friend.”
“She thinks it’s her friend. Email was heavily encrypted; all she could pull out of it was something about dream therapy going too deep and finding something inside the mountain. And the video.”
Dean nodded. He didn’t need to see the video again. Three orderlies—dressed more like high-level security guards—flung around a room by an invisible force. It was, unfortunately, a familiar enough sight for someone in their line of work.
“And here we are,” Dean announced as they rounded the corner, and the asylum came into view. “Check it out, Sammy.”
Sam, shoving the papers back into the glovebox, let out a whistle as the building came into sight. Three stories above ground, not including the towers at the corners, the sprawling brick structure crouched under the night sky like a waiting predator. Only a few of the windows were lit up from within, though the front façade was lit from the spotlights off some heavy-duty military trucks. The entire building gave off an aura of something ancient and sinister, even if the reports all stated construction had begun after World War II.
Dean pulled off into the grass beyond the complex’s gates, where the faint light from the guard shack wouldn’t reach them. “They call in the army?”
“Looks like private security.” Sam stuffed his useless phone into his pocket as he stared up at the building. “Don’t see any movement.”
There was something in the building. You didn’t spend most of your life hunting things that went bump in the dark without picking up a sense for things like this. Silently, the brothers crept toward the building, keeping to the shadows and skirting around the illuminated courtyard.
“Sammy,” Dean tugged on his sleeve, gesturing to the side of the building. “Take the side door?”
Sam opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again when he saw where his brother was pointing. Scaffolding had been set up against one of the walls, and at the top a flutter of curtains showed where the window was open. “After you.”
Dean led the way through a half-open, rusted gate that opened onto a smaller garden on the side. The garden looked like it hadn’t been properly tended since the place originally shut down in the seventies. The fountain contained more bracken than water, and the planters were so overgrown they threatened to take over what little remained of the paths.
The scaffolding was new, however. It was an easy climb up to the second floor to an empty office. Furniture was scatter haphazardly and something dark was smeared across a corner of the wall TV.
“All right, so,” Dean began, then the lights cut out as an ear-piercing scream echoed through the building. Wordlessly, the brothers moved to position themselves on either side of the office door, guns drawn. Dean waited for Sam’s signal before opening the door and ducking into the hall, flashing his light up and down the hall before gesturing his brother to join him.
“That sound human to you?” Dean whispered.
Sam swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“Let’s go.”
The hallway was lit with dim emergency lighting, though there was more shining through the door at the end. There were more smears and stains, too. Dark blood smeared along the wall, leading to a bathroom. Sam held his breath as Dean tested the knob and found it locked, like all the other doors along this hall.
“What are the chances it’s just another demon?” Dean asked as they neared the door at the end of the hall.
“Place like this?” Sam shook his head. “Probably has its share of restless spirits. Gotta be a lot of violent deaths here.”
“Yeah, I was afraid of that.” They’d reached the door at the end of the hall and Dean gave it an experimental jiggle. Locked. He took a step back to study it for a moment, then rammed his shoulder against the door hard enough for it to shake in the frame.
“Dean!” Sam hissed.
“Wanna backtrack and find another way in?” he demanded in return.
Sam met his brother’s eyes and glanced away. It felt like something in the building was watching them, waiting for them. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck had been raised since they’d climbed through the window, and it was only getting worse.
But they’d both heard the scream. It could mean a survivor, and every second they delayed could be the difference between life and death.
Dean turned back to the door and slammed into it again. The door shuddered and groaned, and on the third blow it gave way as the frame splintered out around the lock. Beyond the door was a hall that ran around three sides of the first-floor lobby, the inner wall lined with windows that looked over the open space. A pair of massive chandeliers lit up the space beneath, bright enough to illuminate the hall around them.
“Lobby’s empty,” Sam announced, after risking a peek through one of the windows. As far as he could tell, it was just a security desk. No waiting areas or benches.
“Come on,” Dean nodded toward the elevator and stairs at the back of the building, on the middle section of the u-shaped upper hall. “We can get down there and have a closer look.”
They kept close to the wall, slipping past a couple of rooms with little numbered plaques next to the doors. Looked like the asylum’s executive offices, might be a good place to check for information once they had a better scope of things.
Dean pulled up short with a curse. “Can’t go this way.”
Sam leaned around him to study the debris blocking the hall. “Think it’s a barricade?”
Dean snorted. “No, Sammy. I think someone just chose this spot for its aesthetic appeal.”
“Shut up, Dean.” Sam shrugged past him to study the debris. It wasn’t too bad, mostly a couple of bookcases leaning against a filling cabinet, surrounded by some other heavy stuff. “Hey, I think we can get through here.”
He shoved the bookcases aside a little and squeezed into the empty space. It was close, but he was able to shuffle through to the other side, though not without a few scratches on his hands and neck. “No big deal, see?”
Dean, flashlight out, stared through the fallen bookcases at his brother. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause you weight, what, a hundred eighty pounds? Soaking wet?”
Sam huffed. “What, you eat too many pies to squeeze through?”
His brother just grumbled, shoved at the bookcase, tucked his gun into his belt and his flashlight between his head and shoulder and tried to squeeze into the space. Sam grinned and opened his mouth to call encouragement when one of the doors behind Dean was flung open.
“Little pig!”
Sam tried to shout a warning, but it was too late. A massive hand caught Dean by the shoulder and spun him away from the pile of debris.
It was a man…possibly. At least a head taller than Dean and nearly twice his size. Dean tried to grab his gun, but the man planted a hand on his chest and drove him against the window hard enough that the glass shattered. Sam called his brother’s name and tried to go back through the debris, but Dean was already disappearing over the edge of the window, down to the lobby below.
Sam rushed to the window and stared in disbelief at his brother’s body, crumpled on the floor nearly twenty feet below. He had little time to think or plan as the man who’d attacked Dean was tearing at the barrier now in a snarling fury. Sam took a few shots at him, but that didn’t seem to slow him down.
There was no time. The barricade was in splinters and the man who’d attacked Dean was almost through it. Sam turned and ran, ducking down the next hallway and into the darkened maze of Mount Massive Asylum.
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sarah-dipitous · 6 months
Text
Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 286
Advanced Thanatology/The Empress of Mars
“Advanced Thanatology”
Plot Description: A case involving a deranged doctor and an abandoned mental hospital leads Sam and Dean to two surprise reunions
Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I could not be convinced to break into an abandoned mental hospital at night
Sam is doing everything in his power to help Dean, to bring him back to having a modicum of hope, he even read reviews of the local strip club that’s near where they’re hunting
The hunt this time SEEMS like a ghost hunt (but they thought that last time til it was a shapeshifter instead for the doctor who ran the hospital who (if I heard correctly “specialized” in lobotomy…but ended up killing a lot of patients in the process), and the two boys from the first five minutes have gone missing
I like when they get to get back to some good old fashioned ghost hunting
THIS IS A STRONG ASS GHOST
Blew away the salt and the salt rounds in Sam’s gun worked for like half a second while Dean burned the plague masks
WHY IS THERE STILL A COLD SPOT
……….the patients.
Dean needs to stop trying to kill himself to talk to ghosts or whatever the job needs. It’s one thing to die on the job but he does this bullshit too often for comfort
Ooooo did we just see the reaper headquarters??
You really think that these ghosts of people whose lobotomies killed them are going to be the best conversationalists??
OH FUCK. Ok but how can these guys kill Death but random reaper Billie isn’t fully dead from when Cas stabbed her? She’s right though, it is ironic to hear a Winchester talk about the finality of dying
When they said surprising reunions they really meant it.
I’m truly fanning myself
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Yes I loved sassy old man Death, but when a rule of the universe is that if you kill an incarnation of Death, the next reaper to die takes their place…Billie IS Death now, and she has a VENDETTA against the boys. She’s not charmed by them like the old Death was. Fuck. I love her
Did she just say “the Dean Winchester I know and love”??
Oh, Dean. We’re right back to the moment Kevin died, again. You keep blaming yourself for these things outside your control and saying things like you don’t matter and you only drag Sam down. I need to hug him
I can’t believe there’s a whole bookshelf full of notebooks telling the multiple ways Dean could actually die for the last time and the way it’s gonna happen is rusty nail
It’s so weird to have Billie want Dean to live.
BUT THE DESCRIPTION SAID TWO REUNIONS. Billie/Death still only counts as one. Castiel BETTER be waiting at the bunker. We better see that this episode (with like two minutes left…I doubt it’ll be Mary even though that’s who Dean asked about before he was thrown back to the living world)
I WILL GLADLY SETTLE FOR DEAN RECEIVING A PHONE CALL FROM CAS TO PICK HIM UP
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That man just found out his boyfriend is no longer dead
I hope Cas didn’t come back wrong but I’m not SUPER hopeful about that
“The Empress of Mars”
Plot Description: What are Victorians doing on the planet Mars, home of the Ice Warriors?
The Victorians WOULD write God Save the Queen in huge letters under the polar ice caps on Mars
I love that Bill thinks the Doctor would love The Terminator BECAUSE it has killer robots, as though killer robots are his thing
Oh the effects in this episode are BAD, but Bill’s hair looked good. I love the braided ponytail
Nardole, babes, do not let Missy outtttt
Did elon get his idea to colonize mars from this episode? (I ask as though there aren’t a whole slew of books and shows about colonizing mars)
Mmmm, this is gonna be one of those “difficult decisions for the Doctor” episodes. Not a mystery to be solved but a “he can see that humans are in the wrong but he’s been the protector of humanity for so long” episode
Omg these stupid stupid men keep making negotiating with the ice warrior queen so much harder than it needs to be. One just fired his rifle right at her head.
I can’t blame her for her definition of mercy (the soldiers…but maybe all humanity but definitely the soldiers will die quickly)
Ah fuck. Ah fuck. Ah fuck. The hive is waking up
The ice warrior guns are terrifying. They crumple you up
Ugh I hate how the worst person gets so much screen time…and as I say that, he got shot. I’m not mad about it
Ok why am I lowkey shipping the guy who was put in charge of the expedition (who had once deserted the British army, was hanged for it, but the hanging was botched) with the ice warrior queen? He’s his plea for mercy for humanity even at the expense of his own life and the way she accepted it and also spared him and now he’s pledging his life and service to her
Ummm…ok so the thing I said about the God Save the Queen? Turns out the Doctor, Bill, and the queen’s new man definitely wrote it in rocks on the surface (I don’t think they made that clear at the beginning)…and they were also the ones to just happen across it and decide to go to mars because of it. I don’t think you can have it both ways
Oh Nardole, what did you dooooo? I mean, I PERSONALLY love seeing Missy out of the vault but…why would you?
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maipareshaan · 1 year
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I saw a post about how people are watching different shows because some people are leaning too heavily into the non existant groundwork laid up with the side characters versus people who see that there is not much there and thus don't care much.
And like i don't necessarily disagree with just this statement, like perhaps, and an example they gave was Kevin, now one i'm just talking about Kevin in isolation and also only talking upto Carver era, and ofcourse its more complicated with a fuller picture and more patterns but imo i just fail to see how having a sweeter and friendlier dynamic here would have affected anything, like it just feels like this entire family vs found family is just not even relevant as a way of viewing the show, imo its more so a 'are Sam and Dean sacrificing heroes or are they complicated and selfish about each other', and that is how Carver era flows with Benny and Kevin and Charlie, how can one extrapolate if Sam and Dean had a well developed sweeter bond with Kevin then the people who don't think its found family might start seeing it like that or that people seeing it like that just well don't have a preference and more importsntly a very strong want for it be a found family show specifically a show that becomes one and ends with a certain ship...idek actually what anything the whole conspiracy pseudointellectual nonsense around the whole forced found family thing means.
Also like esp with Kevin, they treated Kevin like shit, but this isn't a fluffy world, they lived with Kevin and did have some bond with him and treated him like someone with a responsibility that was dragged into the mess, unfair but not unnatural, the bonding is also imo in the whole he's part of the team we are all stuck here we are all chosen we all have responsibility, is it nice, no, its very rough, the way Dean dismisses any attempt to locate his mom and then calls him family, i mean idiotic, Kevin's calmness after death a bit too dull, ya it can be explained by an obvious pattern of Sam and Dean's acquaintances for no reason getting winchester derangement syndrome but its still not outlandish, its no Kaia running into Dean's arms and its no Charlie being so uwu with them, but in anycase it again has nothing to do witj the role the character is in, that when he dies Dean said he'd do the thing that led to the series of events that caused Kevin's death because it saved Sam.
It really should not be this complicated, whether the relationships were better developed or not, and again i don't think there were many misses with Kevin, its just not uwu and that's apt, the announcements of how family he is is like whatever, focus on the story dear god, the story is brother angst he dies brother angst announcement that would do it again brotehr angst, like anyone getting found family from Kevin as a character is just not doing media right like what?? What does that even mean? That bcz the show said they are attached to the character now the show is found family and noone can die and it must end in all of them attending that ship's wedding??? The show is what you are being shown, its not that complicated.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
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By Your Doorstep (Part 7)
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Summary: The reader spends her first Thanksgiving with Dean and his friends and she and Dean grow closer as a couple. But things change when a knock on the door happens one night...
Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 5,600ish
Warnings: language, bad parenting, past child abuse, violence, blackmail
A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…
_________
Reader’s POV
Two Days Later
“We’re here!” called Dean as you followed him inside of his friend’s Donna and Benny’s house. Sam helped Toast navigate the cluster of shoes by the door as Tessa stepped in. 
“About time you Winchesters got here,” said a man poking his head out from down a hall. “Hey, somebody’s looking better.”
“Are you that firefighter?” asked Tessa.
“At your service,” he said as he walked over. “Benjamin Laffetite. My friends call me Benny.”
“Aw, he is like a big teddy bear, Dean,” you said. Benny gave Dean a side eye but smiled. “Nice to meet you in person. We missed you at the last party Dean had.”
“Likewise. Me and the missus were out of town. Come on ladies. Let these two handle the bags,” he said as Toast ran up and sniffed him. “Well aren’t you adorable? What’s your name?”
“Toast. He’s my service dog. Kinda,” said Tessa.
“We’ll save him a slice of turkey,” said Benny as he pet him. “Hey you single kid?”
“Benny,” said Dean with a sigh.
“Jack’s here,” said Benny before he turned the two of you. “He’s our buddy Cas’ little cousin. 18. Freshman at Elmdale. He’s got that whole sweetly naive innocent thing going on for him.”
“Benny!” said a young looking guy in a hoodie standing at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Speak of the devil. Hey, Jackie, come say hi to this chick out of your league. Give you some practice talking to girls,” said Benny with a smirk.
“Hi. He’s an ass,” said Jack before Toast wandered over to him. “This your dog?”
“Yeah,” she said as Toast started to lick him. “He likes you.”
She gave you a look and you waved for her to take off, Benny chuckling to himself.
“Always gotta harass the kids, don’t you, Benny,” said Dean. The boys exchanged quick hugs and Benny let out a big laugh.
“Well since Sammy got big enough to beat me up I had to pick easier targets,” said Benny. He gave you a smile and threw his arm over your shoulders. “I got this one boys.”
“Benny…” said Dean as Benny walked off with you. “Play nice.”
“Don’t I always?” he said. He showed you into a kitchen and stopped next to a blonde working over the stove. “Y/N this is my lovely gal, Donna. Deano set us up a few years back.”
“Oh you’re adorable,” she said, ditching a spoon in a pot before giving you a big hug.
“She’s a hugger,” said Benny as he took over the stove.
“We haven’t seen Dean in months. We were starting to think he fell off the face of the earth,” she said.
“Sorry. We uh, we’ve been busy with a lot lately,” you said, getting an eye roll from her.
“Don’t apologize. He is head over heels for you,” she said. “But I will fuck you up if you hurt him, okay?”
“Permission granted,” you said.
“Donna, she’s almost kicked ass for me before,” said Dean as he and Sam carried in two casserole dishes.
“Then she doesn’t have to worry, does she? So you a beer or wine kinda gal?” she asked.
“She likes bourbon,” said Cas as he walked in with a plate full of bugles held strangely close to his face.
“Why are you so weird buddy?” chuckled Dean, slapping Cas on the back. “Everybody else knows Y/N and Tessa for the most part.”
“I’ll take a beer for now,” you said. You followed Dean into the garage and grabbed a bottle from the cooler, a goofy smile crossing his face. “What?”
“I’m really happy you’re here is all,” he said. You set the beer down on the cooler and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, smiling back at him. 
“I really like when you’re happy.” He blushed a little as your nose grazed his. His eyes kept lock with yours though and you smiled as you saw the creases near them from his own. “I think I might be falling for you or something Winchester.”
“Fancy that. I could say the exact same,” he said. “The deranged woman shouting toast in the neighborhood.”
“The man who fell on his ass on my front porch,” you said. He giggled and you immediately kissed him, Dean pulling you flush against himself. “That just might be the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life.”
He grinned and you both heard the door open, Tessa coming out and digging around in a cooler for a soda. She looked a little tired as you picked up your and Dean’s beers, Dean ruffling her head slightly. She shut her eyes and you both smiled.
“You’re still recovering. Take it easy if you need to,” he said. 
“I know,” she hummed. She straightened up when Jack came out to get a drink, Tessa ducking back inside where it was warmer. 
“Jack,” said Dean with a whistle. “Why don’t you and Tessa go sit down and watch some football? Something easy going.”
“She likes football?” he asked.
“She got sick a few days ago and needs some rest is all,” you said. “But you don’t have to-”
“No that’s totally cool,” he said with a smile. 
“She is out of your league, Jack. Also in highschool,” said Dean. Jack held up his hands and Dean chuckled as he walked out. “Don’t worry about him. He’s the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.”
“Cas always brags about him. I figured he wouldn’t be like, an asshole,” you said. “So he’s like Cas’ nephew, right?”
“Technically, yes. Legally, he’s his kid. Cas’ whole family is full of nutjobs. Jack’s dad isn’t a great guy. Cas took custody of Jack about two years ago.”
“You ever talk to him about...taking charge before you’re ready?”
“Cas was twenty nine with a very good job and house and security and Jack was seventeen. They’re more like brothers I guess. Cas is one of my best friends but he doesn’t...get it. His parents help a lot. I know you know the difference.”
“I do,” you said. You gave him another kiss and slipped back inside with him, a woman you didn’t recognize giving you a smile as she popped into the garage. “You know her?”
“Must be a friend of Donna’s,” he said as he took your hand. “You’re all chilly. Let’s get you warmed up, sweetheart.”
“I’m officially stuffed,” said Dean that night back at home after his fifth slice of pie that day. He was in his onesie and you’d slipped into your gray one, Dean hopping over the back of the couch and pulling you into his side. 
Tessa hummed as she skipped downstairs sporting a pink and white one, Sam sighing loudly as Toast trotted down the steps.
“Sammy, you look cute!” called Tessa. She sounded a little too pleased with herself and Dean gave her a fist bump just as Sam walked around the corner. His was black and he had the hood up, a pout on his face.
“Aw, he’s adorable,” you said.
“I hate you. All of you,” said Sam as he stretched out on the other end of the wrap around.
“Sam, share,” said Tessa. He smirked and flipped her as he pulled her down, Tessa yelping but letting out a few giggles. He sat back and she leaned back against him, leaving enough room for Toast to use his pillow on the floor to hop up onto the end.
“Alright, now that everyone’s settled, let’s watch some football,” said Dean.
About an hour later Tessa was passed out on top of Sam, Sam breathing softly as he slept as well. You looked at Dean to find he was watching them too, a silly look on his face.
“We should do onesies for Christmas Eve too,” you said.
“Definitely. This was the best thanksgiving I think Sammy and me have ever had.”
“Really?”
“I got my girl. I got my little sis and brother. Got my dog. Sammy really liked that Eileen girl he met today. This is definitely up there as one of the best days ever,” he said.
“You know how earlier I said I was falling for you?” you smirked.
“Oh yes. That was a highlight of the day,” he chuckled quietly. 
“Looking over at those two, this is the first time she’s not cried on a holiday in years. She had a really good day and I don’t feel like I’m fucking this up as much as I was anymore and I know it’s because of you.”
“Oh I’m doing this all for entirely selfish reasons,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Very selfish.”
“Oh yeah?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder with a smile. 
“I’ve only ever let one person in, all that way down to the shit deep down there. I love my friends and I’d do anything for them. I’d give ‘em a kidney if they needed it. But it was only ever Sam my whole life that got all the way in. Lately though, there’s this girl and she’s making me rethink some things and for the first time in my life, I let somebody else in and it feels terrifying but I’m happy in a way I didn’t think I’d have. She’s making me a better person and I feel so good and I am going to keep being incredibly selfish about that.”
He tilted his head down as you leaned up, meeting him for a kiss. It was soft and lingered, Dean cupping your cheek. You moved and he went with it, slow and lazy, laying back and enjoying a playful game. Something swelled up inside of you and burst open, a moment of pause as you took a breath. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes and you tried to look away before Dean saw but he was still holding your face, big green eyes locking onto yours.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, wiping away the sticky droplets.
“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m happy. I’m so happy right now I don’t understand.”
“You let me in,” he said gently. “Way down you let me in just now, didn’t you.”
“I don’t understand why I’m crying,” you said.
“Because the last people you let in there, it broke your heart when you lost them,” he said. “Don’t be scared of losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”
You nodded and put your palm against his chest, Dean wiping off your face. His heart thumped along evenly, strong and steady. He nodded and he turned off the TV, carrying you up to bed. He sat you down and lay down beside you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Not really,” you said. He propped himself up on his elbow and you rolled over to meet him. 
“Sweetheart you can’t go around living scared of people dying on you. It’s-”
“It’s not that,” you said. “I just...can I ask an unaskable favor?”
“What?”
“If something happened to me, would you help take care of Tessa, until she’s ready to be on her own?” you asked.
“Why do you think something-”
“Dean could you just…” you said before he nodded.
“If anything ever happened, Tessa will always have us,” he said. “I swear.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for that,” he said. He stroked your cheek again and offered a soft smile. “Is there something you’re not telling me sweetheart?”
“The last boyfriend I had I was twenty three. I’d been with him for three years. I thought he was gonna be the one, you know?” 
“What happened?” he asked quietly, still tracing over your skin.
“He moved away after school for a job. It was working until it wasn’t. It was amicable. I still...never quite got over him I suppose. After the accident, he reached out to make sure I was doing okay. I really wasn’t but he was coming into town to see his parents anyways so he stopped over. I thought he cared, maybe I could let the wall down a little and it’d be okay. But he was so rude to her. She was in a real bad place at first and he just...was a dick and I got over him like that for good. But you, and Sam, I feel like, you’re the kind of the people that...if I dropped dead this second you’d be over her house ten years from now helping her put up a shelf or you’d take her out for drinks or something and the fact that she has people she can depend on and I don’t have to worry about her as much...it just kinda hit me tonight, you know?”
“I do. You have people you can depend on too,” he said. You leaned over and kissed him, Dean sliding his hand to the back of your head. “It gets easier. I promise it does.”
“I know,” you said.
“Let’s have a little quiet day at home tomorrow. Maybe we can put up the tree,” he said. “That sound fun?”
“Sounds perfect Dean.”
Two Weeks Later
“Tessa,” you said as she zipped up her winter jacket in the foyer. 
“Y/N. I’m going over Jack’s to play video games, I swear,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Cas and Kelly will be home anyways.”
“Your shirt’s on backwards, doofus,” teased Dean from the couch. She huffed and took off her jacket, fixing it as Sam jogged down the stairs in a suit.
“Hot date tonight, Sammy?” she teased.
“At least I know how to dress myself,” he shot back. “Ready to go?”
“Mhm,” she said. She put her jacket back on and hooked up Toast’s leash the two of them heading out.
“You think she’s actually going over to play video games or make out with him?” asked Dean.
“Both?” you laughed.
“Not bad plans if I say so myself,” he said, pulling you into his lap. The doorbell rang and he groaned. “Stay put. We have a makeout session to get to.”
He hopped up and went over to the door, immediately shutting it.
“Something wrong?” you asked as he walked back. He shook his head, the doorbell ringing again, you got up and went to the door, hearing Sam talking loudly outside with someone. You peeked the door open and saw a man on the front porch, Sam rolling his eyes and walking away from a woman. He got in the car and drove off with Tessa, the man giving you a look. “Can I help you?”
“We’d like to speak to Dean,” he said.
“Who are you?” you asked.
“His father,” he said, pushing the door open wide. “Who are you?”
“His girlfriend,” you said, stepping in front of him with crossed arms. “I don’t recall inviting you into my home.”
“Leave. Both of you,” said Dean as they both stepped into the foyer. “I said-”
“We want to speak to you. In private,” he said.
“I don’t think-” you got out before he got in your face and glared down at you. You swallowed. He was as big as Dean but there was something off to him.
“Dean. Private,” said his father. 
“Y/N, go upstairs. Please,” said Dean. You sighed but went up, hanging around the balcony to try and overhear them in the family room below. “What the fuck are you two shitheads doing at my house?”
There was a thud and you froze, listening for more.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” said Dean, his voice slightly off.
“You know how this works.”
“Why don’t you get a job lazy ass? Oh wait. You get fired for being drunk at yours?” said Dean. There was another thud and you took out your phone, trying to record whatever was going on. “Oh punching. Very mature of…” said Dean before he gasped and made a whining sound.
“You know how this goes. She calls and you pay. Now pay or we’ll tell Sam the truth.”
“That you’re a sack of shit? He already-” said Dean before he went quiet.
“Have the money tomorrow by noon at the locker or else Sammy’s gonna drop you like the sack of shit you are, Dean. He’s gonna hate you for taking him from us and you know it.”
“I saved his-”
“No, no Dean. You were pathetic and couldn’t stand the thought of being alone so you took Sam. You pay us every few years. That’s the deal for us staying away. If you go back on your word now, we’ll go back on ours.”
“I’m done with you blackmailing me for-” said Dean before there was another thud.
“I’m done with you thinking you’re better than us. You’re nothing, understand boy?” he said. You went over to the hall closet and grabbed a baseball bat, walking downstairs to catch John staring down at the floor, Dean sat back against the wall holding his side.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” you said, gripping the bat tightly.
“Noon, Dean,” he said. He walked out with Mary on his tail. You quickly locked up and rushed over to Dean who had his eyes shut and was sporting a few bruises on his face. 
“Jesus Dean,” you said. You moved his hand and saw a bruise on his ribs, Dean holding up a hand when you tried to move him.
“Give me a second,” he said. You picked up the bat and he caught your wrist, shaking his head. “He doesn’t have any problem hitting a woman, Y/N.”
“I should be calling the cops,” you said.
“Y/N,” he said when you tried to tug away. “Please don’t.”
You put down the bat and he dropped your hand. You cupped his cheeks and he winced.
“I need to take you to the hospital,” you said. He shook his head and you shook it right back. “Dean.”
“Help me over to the counter,” he said. You hooked an arm under his and got him up, walking him over to one of the stools. You sat him down, Dean inhaling sharply. You got out the first aid kit from the cabinet and set it down, taking a kitchen towel and wetting it before you dabbed it against this cheek. It soaked up a little blood and you frowned, Dean looking away.
“Dean I recorded the whole thing on my phone. It’s still going on the stairs. We gotta call-“
“Y/N. Just…don’t.” He started to grab the bag and stand when you scoffed. “I can handle this.”
He got up and started to walk, slowing down after a moment and holding his side again. He stopped by the back of the couch and dropped his head. You sighed and took the bag from him, throwing his arm over your shoulders and walking him upstairs, grabbing your phone along the way. You walked him into the bathroom and he sat up on the counter, leaning back against the wall with a wince.
You helped him out of his shirt and saw the bruise was darkening over his ribs, Dean shutting his eyes.
“Hand me your little mirror,” he said, pointing over to your vanity. You picked it up off the counter, Dean holding it up and looking at his face. “Alright. Can you get me-”
“Stop. I got this.” You used a washcloth and got it wet again, holding it against his cheek and around his eye. He tried looking down but kept moving his head and you settled on putting some more cold water on the towel, pressing it over his skin again. When it seemed like the bleeding had stopped you dug out some medication, dabbing it over the cuts. He was quiet, holding his side while you put a butterfly bandage over his cheek. You peeled his hand away and figured there wasn’t much you could do for his ribs.
You went downstairs and got some painkillers and an ice pack, returning to Dean right where you left him. 
“Here,” you said, dropping the pills in his hand. He took them with a quick gulp of water, hissing as the cold touched his skin but he soon relaxed. You held the pack for him, Dean taking a deep breath. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Dean. Your dad just-”
“This is not the first time and it probably won’t be the last,” he said. 
“Now I’m definitely calling the cops,” you said. You reached for your phone but he grabbed it first, holding it over his head. “Dean. He hurt you. He can’t just come into our house and do that.”
“What I need you to do is take my debit card, go to the ATM and take out five thousand from my savings and five thousand from checking. Hundreds is fine. Okay?” he said. “The PIN is-”
“I’m not doing anything other than putting you in bed,” you said. He glared and you gave it right back. You grabbed his arm and pushed him into the room and over to the bed, Dean laying back against the headboard reluctantly. “Why on earth do you-”
“It’s how I got Sam,” he said. “Custody of him when I was eighteen. We didn’t go to court. I paid them off. It was five grand at first and it tied them over for a bit but when he turned eighteen, they called and wanted more. Every three years they call. Last time it got bumped up to ten thousand. They called around the time I met you and I didn’t pay this year hence the ass kicking.”
“But why do you still pay them off?” you asked.
“Because Y/N,” he said. You crossed your arms and he slammed his fist against his pillow. “Because Sam was the favorite. He didn’t get the shit kicked…” 
Dean trailed off and shut his mouth, looking away. You sat up next to him, holding his free hand and holding him as best you could.
“I got the worst of it but that’s not to say Sam didn’t get some. I knew, I knew that fucker would hurt him once I was gone and I couldn’t stay so Sam had to come with me. I tried looking up how to get custody and that sort of thing and they found out about it,” said Dean. He laughed and you ran your hand through his hair. “Tonight? That was nothing compared to what happened after they found out. But my drunk of a father, well, he owed money and I had some saved up from working for my Uncle Bobby. So I paid to get Sam the fuck out of there. They claimed it was because they were going to travel and wanted Sam to be able to stay in school and shit. It was all shit. Now...now they tried their best to make him hate me on the way out, make it seem like I was stealing him from them. Plant those little seeds. You can’t kill an idea once it’s in there. So I did what I had to and I keep doing what I have to and they stay away from us. It’s how it goes.”
“Do you...do you pay them not to hurt you?” you asked.
“No.”
“Then what’s it for?”
“He will hate me if he knows the truth.”
“Dean he won’t-”
“Our parents fucked us up. I literally bought custody of my baby brother. How is that not fucked up?”
“It’s a fucked up situation. You though, you are not fucked up,” you said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Your father is...a monster and I don’t know what the fuck is up with your mom but you are good. Sam is good. You have the biggest fucking heart of anyone I’ve ever known. Sam would never hate you for getting him out of that situation. Never. But I don’t understand why you keep paying them money, Dean.”
“So they don’t tell him the truth.”
“The truth doesn’t sound all that bad though. He-”
“If he finds out I’ve lied to him for half of his life, he will not forgive me for that. We tell each other all our crap because we’re the only ones that can understand what went on in that house and I can’t risk losing him.”
“There’s more to it,” you said. Dean shut his eyes and nodded. “Dean, what is it?”
“I stole money,” he said. “When I was eighteen. We needed food and rich people don’t notice when twenty, fifty bucks goes missing out of a drawer. If you just take a little, they don’t notice. Well, my father found out about it and threatened to have me arrested if we didn’t come to some kind of payment plan. He was proof and I don’t deny I did it. We needed-”
“You stole from my dad,” you said.
“I did. Money out of his desk drawer at work. He caught me red handed and in one second I thought my life and Sam’s lives were over. I just...started crying and he shut the door and he gave me some money and he took the rest of the afternoon off and we got some stuff like clothes and toothpaste and food and he gave me a job as a paralegal intern. I had no fucking idea what I was doing and he helped me get into school and I worked there and made way more than I did in the mailroom and he’d have dinner with Sammy and me at our place once a month. You have no idea how badly I wanted him to my dad. But we knew he had a real family so we tried not to bother him. By the time I got into med school, Sam was going into his first year and we were on our feet. I’d gotten a good job at a medical place but he checked in every once in a while. I didn’t know he’d died until I met you. I always thought we’d take him out and repay him someday. If he wasn’t kind that day...I’d have nothing.”
“I’ll share my father with you and Sam any day.” He smiled and you kissed him, Dean starting to relax. “So your dad has proof of you stealing money? How much?”
“I wasn’t particularly great at it. Sam and I both had jobs. It was probably a hundred bucks,” he said.
“How’d he get proof?” you asked.
“What do you mean?”
“How would he have proof of you stealing from some random person?” you asked.
“He has photos,” he said. “He showed me.”
“Photos of…”
“Me with the money.”
“Outside of someone’s house?” you asked.
“I was in my car,” he said. 
“Dean. Where was the car?”
“Outside...work,” he said, thinking to himself. “Your dad...he gave me money that day. There was never any proof. I just let him manipulate me again into doing what he wanted.”
“How much did you steal Dean. Altogether?”
“A few hundred bucks?”
“You donate some money to charity?” you asked as he nodded. “Your debt to society has been repaid, trust me. No more feeling guilty. Plus when my dad the lawyer lets you off the hook, it’s fine.”
“Sam still can’t know.”
“Sam’s been outside the door for most of this conversation,” he said. He turned around the corner, Tessa there with him. “Fuck, Dean. What happened to your face?”
“Are you okay?” Tessa asked, climbing up on the bed.
“I thought you had a hot date,” he said. “The both of you.”
“Jack’s just a friend,” she said.
“Eileen understands,” said Sam. “Besides, we both got a bad feeling after mom and dad showed up like that.”
“You really thought it was appropriate for an 18 year old to hear all that?” asked Dean.
“Considering all the shit I just learned about you at 18, I’d say I’m good,” said Tessa. She fidgeted a little and Dean sat up more.
“You can hug him. Carefully,” you said. She moved up to his other side and gave him a gentle one, Dean chuckling.
“I love you too, dork,” he said. He watched with a swallow as Sam stepped inside and moved the icepack from Dean’s body. Dean stared up and Sam sat on the edge of the bed, placing the pack back. “I’m-”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing,” said Sam. “You protected me and that’s all there was to it. Everytime she calls, talking to her tonight, I still get manipulated too. I don’t know why they hate us so much and it’s wrong but you aren’t. Not you.”
“Y/N’s offered up their parents if we’d like to take ‘em,” said Dean.
“Mr. Y/L/N was your guys dad?” said Sam as you and Tessa nodded. “You know I met you once Tessa. You must have been five. You were bragging about something to do with kindergarten.”
“How’d you remember that?” she asked.
“Cause I was so fucking jealous of you. You were so happy,” he said. She looked down but Sam laughed. “It worked out how it was supposed to.”
“You’re a lawyer, can’t you like, do something?” she said, glancing at Dean. 
“Tessa, this isn’t that simple,” said Dean.
“Yeah, it is,” she said. He nodded and she relaxed some. “I don’t think you should pay anything. He should pay you while he’s at it.”
“Yeah,” he said, ruffling her head and wrapping his arm around her. He looked at Sam and then you before you nodded. He wouldn’t say anything about his father. Sam was grown and bigger than himself yet Dean still kept paying. With you and Tessa around, there was no way he was risking a thing.
“Sam,” you said. You both got up, Dean pouting when he realized he wasn’t getting up without some help. You walked down to Sam’s room and he shut the door, crossing his arms. “We can’t let him keep paying off your father. Tessa has a point. You’re a lawyer. What are our options?”
“There’s not blackmail evidence and our parents would claim it was a gift. The only things I can think of that we’d have a shot would be the incident tonight which he’d be out on bail like that anyways and...stuff that happened when we were kids.”
“Sam he came to our house.”
“I know,” he said, rubbing your arms. “Dean always gets quiet for a few days after something like this happens. Nobody is paying anything. I’ll make sure Dean doesn’t leave the house tomorrow morning.”
“What do you think John would do? Will do?”
“I don’t know. He’s an abusive dick, not a psychopath.”
“Did you ever tell my dad about this stuff?” 
“Dean did a bit I think.”
“Good,” you said as you left the room.
“Why good?”
“Because if I know my dad, he made a note of it and put it on record with a judge,” you said as you headed downstairs.
“Y/N,” said Dean from the end of the hall, leaning on Tessa. “Where are you going?”
“To see if dad ever reported John. Or at least kept a file on him. We still know the partners at his old firm. I’ll be back in an hour,” you said. “Two tops.”
“Sam go with her,” said Dean. “Please.”
“Tessa, put him back in bed and get him a fresh icepack in fifteen minutes. Get some food too, okay?” you said, tugging on your winter coat. “Oh and take Toast-”
“I got it,” she said.
“We’ll be back soon,” said Sam. “Hopefully with some good news.”
_______ 
A/N: Read Part 8 here!
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StackedNatural Day 133: 14x15
StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]
March 14, 2022
14x15: Peace of Mind
Written by: Steve Yockey
Directed by: Phil Sgriccia
Original air date: March 14, 2019
Plot Synopsis:
Sam and Castiel follow a case to a picturesque little town in Arkansas, only to find out nothing is as idyllic as it appears to be. Dean and Jack take a road trip to visit an old friend.
Features:
Possibly the worst bit-part actor of the series, Sam and Cas as chaotic besties, Dean having intense Step-Dad Energy, Sam’s beautiful hair and brief stint as Justin Smith, the state of Jack’s soul (or lack thereof), Bunker trauma.
My Thoughts:
This is SUCH a fun monster of the week episode. It’s been said before, but Sam and Cas going places alone results in the most insane things happening and it’s delightful to watch.
They did a great job with Charming Acres, with the set dressing and especially the score. Cas basically spends the whole episode getting micro-aggressed by people and rolling his eyes, which is a win for me, personally. Also a win for me personally is certified “Very Tall Man” Sam Winchester holding a tiny little teacup. It should happen more often. I love how far he has to bend over to kiss his “wife” on the cheek when he’s brainwashed and how awkward every interaction with her is. The actress for Mrs. Smith is great too, she can really turn on a dime and it does a good job of solidifying the effect on the townspeople. She’s a good enough actor that it balances out how terrible the gas station attendant is.
You can tell that Destiel is real because of how different the fight scene between Cas and Sam is versus ones between Cas and Dean (especially in Goodbye Stranger and The Prisoner). There are more direct parallels between this one and the one in The Prisoner if you look purely at the blocking, but emotionally they’re completely different. Also, the fact that Cas called Dean to tell him that Sam wore a cardigan. Delightful.
Speaking of Dean, he’s got so much step-dad energy in this episode that I laughed out loud. Offering the snake bacon and testing Jack based on whether he chooses the angel food cake or the devil food cake is deranged.
This is the one episode in which I don’t experience absolute blinding rage at Donatello’s existence. I think the scene between him and Jack is really well-written and he has personality traits outside of “silly and annoying”. On the other hand, “what would the Winchesters do” is the worst advice that has ever been given, considering they’re serial killers who regularly kill possessed humans to get the demon inside them.
It’s a little wild that Jack killing the snake is framed as evidence of him having lost his soul and his empathy. We’re talking about someone who, although intellectually very capable, has very little experience with the world, and who knows that Heaven exists. Obviously no one ever told him about Purgatory, or he would know that the gorgon wasn’t there. He thinks he’s sending the snake to a place where he’ll be happy and with the person that it misses most, which, I can’t stress enough, is what happened to him when he died, went to heaven, and met his mother. It was a choice that was made out of compassion and a misplaced desire to help.
Notable Lines:
“They said something about an aneurysm or something?” “Oh, no. His head exploded. Like a ripe melon on the sun.”
“I don't think you have a firm grasp on what snakes eat.”
“Our galaxy's all bright and shiny and spinny, but in its center lies this very large black hole. It's the same with me.”
“When I need to, uh, ‘blend,’ I ask myself, ‘What would Mr. Rogers do?’” “Who’s Mr…?” “Rogers? The best man I know.”
Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.3
IMdB Rating: 8.6
In Conclusion: I wish the figurative haunting of the Bunker had been a theme carried through to the end of the series. So many terrible things have happened there and I don’t like that it remains comfortable to them.
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herstarburststories · 4 years
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The devil at your door
Kinktober day 3: Demon
Suptober day 3: Demonic
Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader
A/N: This one goes for @holylulusworld's 10k celebration, my trope was Lovers to Enemies. Congrats again, hon! And this is also my piece for @hardcoresupernatural 's Halloween challenge with the prompt: I'm not scared of you.
@deanmonandnegansbitch's asked: Deanmon x Reader, he realizes no one could tame the marks hunger like she did. And yet he lost her by sticking his dick in other women
Warnings: dirty talk, mentions of boob fucking, hints of dark sexual, angst if you squint, teasing
CATCH UP KINKTOBER: Day 1 / Day 2
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Spending his whole life in imaginary chains had frustrated Dean Winchester more than he was aware of. He’d always done what his dad taught him; kept himself from what he wanted in order to be the good soldier — the hero — even if it was against his own desires. 
Dean saved the world once or twice and didn't get a thank you, a break long enough to relax or even visit the beach for the first time. No, hunters were never kids. Hunters never had time for fun. Hunters were made to be hunting. He always found himself fighting winless battles and ending up drowned in whiskey and self-pity.
Now it was all gone. His old persona never had time to be human, so losing that side of him wasn't a big deal. If anything, he felt better now. Whatever his green eyes wanted, Dean would go and get it.
No barbed ward could contain a demon, much less the Knight.
At first, it was funny. Messing around with Crowley, fucking some good, new pussies after tasting only yours, and causing destruction whenever he felt like it.
Then the thrill expired. Honestly, the Winchester pictured it would last longer. Crowley started bitching around like a whiny little man and the new girls no longer could satisfy him — that is, if they ever did. Dean was pretty sure he liked them so much because the cat and mouse play of finding a new toy, but at some point, the cat gets enough of the foreplay and wants to eat the prey. They were so boring in all their humanly forms: they didn't have his stamina, they didn’t know his sweet spots, and they didn’t enjoy all the mischievous things he wanted to do.
Only painting his knuckles with an aleatory idiot's blood could get a real smile out of him these days. Nonetheless, even throwing punches gets exhausting when they stop fighting back.
Where was the fun of being free?
It clicked him like one of the worst sounds of tortured souls screams; you. 
You used to be the wild in Dean's heart during hunter days. You knew all the bad things he wanted to do, and you moaned in pleasure through them. You knew his body and yours like religion and shamelessly worshipped them.
When he finds himself at your door after leaving a woman who just wanted some vanilla sex in a cheap motel, it shouldn't have been a surprise. At least, it's not in his uniquely demonic brand of rationality. As you open the door, the look on your face tells him you agree with that. 
Or so his deranged mind said.
You crossed your arms, the angle exposing your cleavage more as you leaned against the rose-colored door that he helped you paint months ago.
Dean used to think this little apple pie life was so savage, something out of his reach that he’d only get to touch in case of a miracle, like caressing the fire only to get a feel for the burn. Now he can't help but scrunch up his nose, disgusted by domestic, urban pleasures.
“What do you want, Dean?” You looked him up and down, a humorless smile on your face. “Got tired of fucking everyone with a pair of boobs?”
“I'm more interested in your boobs, sweetheart.” Dean isn't put off by your sarcasm, countering with the same flirty tone that used to get you riled up all the time.
Isn't the past such a beautiful memory?
“Go find someone your species, Winchester.” You rolled your eyes and pulled away, pushing the door closed before Dean's foot interrupted you.
He faked a pout. “Wow. That's racist, Y/N. This demon’s got feelings, you know?”
His childish attitude heats your system. Only Dean, demon or not, could push your buttons and get on your nerves in a matter of seconds. You pushed the pink door fully open with enough strength to make it slam against the wall with a loud crack. Dean doesn't look affected, though. You furiously glare at his lopsided grin.
“Do you also have a brain? I told you to leave. Get lost.”
“Come on, baby girl. I know you miss my cock. What about a night to remember?”
Believing he was the man you once loved was getting harder with every word he said. Your body seemed to recognize him easier, aching for him like some kind of spell. All you had after Dean Winchester left was a longing body and fury.
“Do you really think I'm gonna let you in my house for a quick fuck like I'm one of your one night stands?”
Dean appeared to be considering it for a moment, eyes focused on anything but you. His lips pursed before he glanced at you with a malicious beam. “Yes. You always said I was the best sex you ever had. Why not get a bit of it? You already know you won't regret that, sweetheart.”
You studied him, picturing what would bring a man who ran away back to what used to be his home. Dean had left as soon as he became a demon, the only trace of his existence being a note addressed to Sam and pieces of your heart. When you and Sammy finally found the eldest Winchester, he made was certain to make sure that you were aware of his very active sex life. He’d tacked on that he'd kill Sam and you both if you tried to save him.
You let him run like water after this. The Winchesters might have that wondrous codependency, but you didn't need something like that in your life. Especially not with a demonic cheater and murder.
Your eyes were too wide to ignore the warning signs now. Yet, that didn't answer why he was in your doorway. If he wanted to be saved, he'd go for Sam and call you from there. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldn't spend time talking about fond memories. He didn't look like a lost puppy looking for shelter either. So, what the fuck was this green-eyed devil doing here?
Quietude thickened while you noticed Dean not seeming to notice your silence, his eyes too busy observing your breasts. Your Dean Winchester was always a boob man, and he was looking like he'd fuck your titties on your porch for all your neighbors to see. It certainly wouldn't be yours and his first time with public sex. Still, that wasn't the point: he was here, hair longer than usual and cock clearly starting to awaken in his jeans…
Because he had missed you.
You chortled in dismay, unable to discern whether he was kidding or not despite the bulge in his pants, and that glimmer in his eyes already confirmed your suspicions. You knew him.
The realization almost cheered up your soul. Your reasoning stopped you from collecting hopes about that demoniac form of a man. Dean was here for carnal desire, not love. He had sex with other women while you spent sleepless nights crying into his old shirts. He broke you as the monster that he was — he deserved to suffer.
You didn't care if your heart would be a little more broken, or you pussy a bit needier after that.
“You missed fucking me, Dean? Missed my tight pussy squeezing your cock? Maybe my mouth on it? Or how you got it between my boobs? Did you miss how I taste?” You took a step closer to him, making Dean lift his glare to your face again. 
He wore a cocky smirk as he answered, “Not as much as you missed me.”
Dean was right. Your body cried for him, and so did your soul. Who fucking cares? He didn't before, and you would not now.
“Liar.” The word rolled letter by letter off of your tongue. “I can take care of myself, even call a friend to do that, but you came back just because you can't forget how eating my pussy like a fucking feast feels like. Can you, sweetheart?”
You used that stupid nickname that he often gave people. You were very aware that it would irritate him, as it was laced with the implication of another man putting his hands on you.
Dean quickly grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him. He groaned. It was that fucking sound he made when something truly made him furious, and you knew your panties were gone. His eyes flashed into darkness that replaced his glistening greens, and for some calamitous reason, that turned you on.
“You better not have let anyone fuck what's mine, Y/N. I'd rip his throat in front of you and fuck you right next to his body,” he spits out jealously. His posture radiated that usual, alpha-esque tenseness that tumbled you two into angry, possessive sex so many times before.
“So jealous. I loved to tease you only to get you rough on me. Throwing me against the wall, going so hard inside my pussy that the bed broke, holding me hard enough to leave marks. You wanted for my bruises too, right? How I'd scratch your back, bite your collarbone, ruin your neck for everyone to see you were mine, but I guess what you really liked about me was that I was as hungry for you as you were for me. I would’ve let you do anything to my body, and I did. Because I wasn’t scared of you, Dean, and I’m not scared of you now either.” The way your arms compulsively wrapped around his neck made you wonder if you really wanted to strangle him or pull him closer. You could smell his manly cologne mixed with sulfur. It shouldn't make you want him more. Your knees shouldn't be begging to kneel for him and suck his cock. Be stronger. “You could come in, throw my clothes away and fuck my boobs with your dick instead of your eyes. Hurt me good enough to make me ask for more. But you know what?”
“Mm?” Dean's reply came in a hum as you pressed your hips against his, causing his clothed cock to rub on your belly. It was a tiny bit of relief — finally. He missed this so much: he couldn't wait to slip into your tight pussy.
“You won't.” Your lips brushed against his before you pulled away. His hands left your body from his surprise at your words. A wry smirk was wrung from your lips despite your wet pussy. “You stuck your dick into other women as soon as you became… whatever this is.” You scoffed, pointing at him with a feigned disgust in your eyes that you knew your body disagreed with. “Go have fun with your hand, Dean.”
A light rose painted door was ultimately closed in his face.
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itsthestutterforme · 3 years
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Broken Toy (Supernatural)
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Characters: Dean x reader, Jo x Reader, Ellen x reader// SMUT 18+ ONLY
Summary: Y/N is a trauma riddled woman that does not have time for relationships. Sam and Dean rolled into town and couldn't keep his eyes off of her.
--
Y/N was relaxing at Ellen's bar while you were on your break. Ellen took you under her wing when she found out what happened to you family through a family friend. Ellen watched you grow up and to see you in pain, puts her in pain. Jo and Asher saw you as their big sister that they looked up to. They just wanted to help as much as they could.
Sam and Dean walk into the bar and you were the first thing that caught Dean's eye. He sat down next to you and said, "Hey there, beautiful." You took a sip of your lemonade before looking Dean in the eyes. Dean examines every inch of your face. "Believe me, you do not want to get involved with this," you say.
"Shouldn't that be up to me?" "Men like you view women as toys. I'm a broken toy, and no wants to play with a broken toy," you down the rest of her lemonade before leaving. "Ouch, did she just turn down the Dean Winchester?" Sam teases.
Dean watches as she walks in to the back room. Ellen walks out of the backroom and says something to Y/N. Y/N nods and Ellen puts one of her hands on Y/N's cheek. Dean watches the whole thing and doesn't say a word. "Hey boys, I didn't see you come in." Ellen greets as she hugs them.
"Hey, uh, what's her deal?" Dean says, motioning to you putting on her apron. "Boys, I know she's a looker, but she is off limits. She's lost so much so soon. And she's not ready for anything right now."
You walk passed them to take an order from someone who just sat down. The boys were helping with a case near the area and Ellen offered the boys a place to stay. In her house, there was a spare room with a couch that both of them could stay in. The both spent the night over Ellen's house.
Sam was sound asleep but Dean couldn't even shut his eyes longer than ten seconds. He got up and went downstairs for something to drink. You went downstairs for the same reason. You didn't hear or know her was there until you ran into him. You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him into the fridge before pressing your pocket knife to his throat.
"Y/N, it's me, Dean," he says, struggling to breathe against her grip. You pull away from him and tuck the knife back into your sock. "Sorry about that," you apologize. Dean couldn't help himself but to stare at your body through the oversized t-shirt and boxers. When you look at him, his eyes dart straight to your eyes.
"Couldn't sleep?" Dean asks. "I never can," you says as she reaches into the fridge to grab some orange juice. You take out two glasses and pour some juice in each. "Thank you," he mumbled. You stand in front of the window and sipped on your orange juice. "You know, Ellen and Jo are pretty protective over you."
"I'm the same way with them. They're all I have left." "Yeah, Sammy's all I have too." There was another silence and Dean watches as you look up at the moon absentmindedly. "You're not much of conversationalist, are you?" "I'm not one for small talk,"
"I can understand that." You look to him, unsure about his previous statment. You didn't buy it. "I find that hard to believe," "You know, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover," "I used to, but now, I wouldn't rather watch from a distance," "Hopefully not too far," Dean says. "The balls on you, dude," "Honey, you have no idea,"
**
Dean and Sam roll into Ellen's bar where Dean knows he'll face the wrath of Ellen and Jo. They made it known that you weren't in the right state of mind for a relationship or even a fling.
You had lost your close family to some deranged sicko at a gas station who decided to stab them to death. You was pregnant from a one night stand and when after five hours of labor, the baby was still born.
So yes, you were not in the right state of mind for anything. Dean respected that but still wanted to get to know you. Then he slowly started to fall for you. He knew you needed time and effort, and he put it in. He hung around for weeks and he gained your trust.
Things were going well until Dean found out about Sam drinking demon blood and was being manipulated by Ruby. And he had to leave. He didn't know how to say it because he already felt like shit about leaving you. He left in the middle of the night without a word and that shattered your world.
You cried in Ellen's arms for weeks, which fueled Ellen's anger. She warned them about your mental state and Dean went on a did this. Ellen knew that Dean would come back, and when he did, she would be ready for him.
"You have some nerve coming back here," Ellen says, crossing her arms. "I know," Dean dismissed, breaking her eye contact for a moment. "I heard what happened and I'm sorry Sam, but I'm still pissed at Dean for what he did to Y/N." "Right, thanks. And, uh, I'm sorry," Sam states.
"That's what Dean should be saying," "No matter how many times I say sorry, you're still not going to forgive me," "No, but it's a start," "You are such an asshole," Jo says once she sets eyes on him when she left the back room. "I outa smack you," she adds.
"I'm sorry, okay. I had to take care of Sammy," "Then you should have said that instead leaving her questioning what she did wrong." Jo snaps. "She was a wreck after you left, man," she adds. And speaking of the Devil, you walk in with your boyfriend.
"Who's that?" Sam asks. "That's her boyfriend, Ryan," "Hm, seems like someone moved on pretty quickly," Dean states before taking a sip of his beer. Jo brings her hand and smacks the back of his head. "What the hell!" Dean snaps. "You know what that was for," Jo spits.
You freeze in your tracks when you see Dean. Your grip on Ryan's hand tightens. "Are you okay?" Ryan asks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go," "What? You've been wanting Ellen's pie since last week," "I know, but I lost my appetite." You lie.
"Uh uh, we're not leaving." Ryan drags you to a table for two and wait until Jo comes over to take their order. You avoid eye contact from Dean and try your best to focus on Ryan. Y/N smiles at something Ryan says and for a split second, you let your guard down. You threw your head back and the vein on your forehead was pulsating from how hard you were laughing.
You collapsed into the crook of Ryan's arm and he rested his face ontop of your head as he laughs as well. Dean looks away and angrily clenches his jaw. "Dude, I know you don't want hear this but she's happy. Let her be happy," Sam tells him. "She was happier with me," Dean mumbles before taking a swig of his beer.
"And you messed that up by leaving her," Jo says as she cleans the back of the bar. "How many times do I have to tell you that I had to help Sam?" "Until you believe it, but clearly, I'm not," Jo snarks before leaving to give you and Ryan your food.
The night progresses and Ryan dragged you on the floor to slow dance. Dean's heart races when he sees Ryan's hands sliding a little lower than your waist. A little lower than Dean felt comfortable with. After a few slow dances, Ryan decides to go to the bathroom. Dean saw that as a perfect opportunity to talk to you.
You had your face towards the performing stage with your hands stuffed into your back pockets. "May I have this dance?" Dean asks as he holds out his hand. You turns around to face him and scoffed at him. "No, Dean," you tried to walk away from him. He grabbed your wrist and spun you until she hit his chest.
Man, it really felt good for you to be in his arms again. He thought to himself. "Dean, let me go," you say, trying to pull away from him. " Please, baby, just one dance," "Don't call me baby," you snap. "Alright, Y/N, I'm sorry. I just- please dance with me once." "If I do, will you leave me alone?"
"I will leave you alone and never ask you for anything," "Fine." You rolls her eyes and hesitantly wraps yours arms around him. One hand holds the back of your head and another trails down your back. Halfway through the dance, you think backs to the night Dean left.
You watched him pull out of the driveway after tossing his duffel bag in the passenger side. Your heart shattered to pieces and you fell apart in Ellen's arms. That night was seared into your brain. It was the first time you were emotionally hurt by someone else in a very long time.
Even after losing your child and her entire family, you'd never felt so much pain. You think that's because you felt completely absorbed by him. He engulfed you like the ocean over sand. You didn't even bother wiping away the tears that fell on your cheeks. You wanted Dean to know how much he hurt you.
You pull away from his chest and looked up at him to see Dean staring at her. "I hate you," you whimpers. "No you don't, baby," he whispers against your lips. Dean holds the side of your face and lifts your head up with his thumb. Ellen and Jo watches with both disappointment and shock.
Before you did something you'll regret, you pull away from him. You rushed towards the bathroom to get Ryan and nearly knocked him over. Ryan's hands fall to your hips and concern laced his eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You wiped away your tears and said, "I just want to go home," "Okay, we're going. Just let me get my stuff,"
Dean ran a head over his face before returning to Sam's side. "Wait, did he do this to you?" "No, Ryan, don't-" It was no use, Ryan went off on an angry tangent. "Hey!" Ryan starts. In a few strides, Ryan was in Dean's face. "Damn it," you mumbled to herself. You sprint between them and caught the punch that Ryan threw.
His eyebrows shot up with surprise as you holds his fist in your hand. You never mentioned that you could fight. Mainly because you thought of Dean whenever you did. "How did you-" "Believe me, baby. That's not a fight you would've won," you tell him before dropping his hand. You motions over to the table and said, "Go get your things,"
"She's your guardian angel, dude. 'Cause I would hav-" "Enough, Dean!" You turned around and shoved Dean into the table. "You have no right to come back here after what you did to me. None! You have no right to pretend like nothing happened, Dean!" You snaps and the entire bar went silent.
"Why are you even here?" you add. "What do you think?" "I want you to say it," "I want you. I've always wanted you," "Then why did you leave? And don't lie and say that it was because of Sam. That's just a cover up." Dean opens his mouth but no words come out of it. "Y/N," Ryan tries to touch your arm but you pulls away.
"You and I both know why you left. You left because you were scared of what you were feeling. So you ran at the first chance you got. You're a coward, Dean," you spit at him before walking out of the bar. Ryan calls after you when he follows you out. "I told you we should leave. And you and your stupid make ego got in the way."
"I know and I'm sorry, okay. I didn't know that was Dean," "Just take me home," you says as you climbs into the passenger side. You pull your knees to your chest and ignored the incessant chime of the seatbelt alarm. Looking out the window, you mentally check out and watched as the grass blurred together into masses of pine green.
**
Ryan leans in to kiss your cheek goodbye before leaving for work, but you pulls away from him. You decided to break up with him the night prior. He tried to convince you to take a break and not end things so abruptly. But you knew what you wanted, and you didn't want him.
You knew that Dean was parked down the street. He was trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. You bites your lip nervously as your thumb hovers over Dean's contact. You pressed the call button and brings it to your ear. He answers on the first ring.
"Hello?" "I know you're out there, Dean. You can come in." "Alright," he answers. You hang up and wait until the door creaks open and closed. "Y/N?" "Kitchen," you call out. You had your back to him and presses your warm hands on the cold surface. "I broke up with him a few days ago," you whisper.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. For everything," "You want anything? A burger? Pie? Booze? Pizza?" You turn around to see Dean a few inches from your face. He cups your cheeks and you sigh at his touch. His eyes softly scan your face in admiration. He loved everything about this woman, and scared the hell out of him.
He didn't even know if was possible to love someone so much that it physically hurt his heart. He hated feeling so vulnerable, but he realized that vulnerability and love are two sides of the same coin. You opened her eyes and leant up to attach your lips to his.
He hums lowly and trails his hands deeper into your hair. Your body fit perfectly against his and you tug him closer by his belt loops. "I fucking love it when you do that," he says against your lips. You chuckle and walk him into the counter. Without pulling away from his lips, you pull off his jean jacket and unbuttons his pants.
He picks you up and lays you on the counter top. He kicks off his pants and climbs on the counter top with you. "We're really about to do this on a counter top?" You ask. "Well it has always been a dream of mine," You roll your eyes playfully and pulls off her shirt to show that she wasn't wearing a bra.
"You're such a bad girl," he says, taking your breasts into his hands. He teases the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue and your back arches off of the counter. You're already starting to feel a knot build up in your stomach. You've always been sensitive on her boobs and Dean enjoyed that about you. You whine when he pulls away from you.
You lifts your hips off of the counter to help him take off your shorts. He inhales your scent with a soft moan. "I'll savor that in that pretty little pussy of yours, in a little bit," he grabs a hold of your breasts again and you groansl softly, making Dean hard in his boxers. He takes his knee and rubs it against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body.
"Oh God," you say, your eyes flutter closed. "Look at me," he commands and you comply. His hazel green orbs was slowly turning brown right before your eyes. He moves his knee a little faster and pinches your nipples. A hiss left your lips as your grip tightens when your orgasm ripped through you.
He takes off your underwear and throws them on the floor. "Come here," he says, wrap his arms around you and laying his back against the counter. "Now be a good girl and sit on my face," he whispers in your ear as he squeezes your bare ass. You shuffle yourself higher on his body. You gasp at the peach fuzz scraping your inner thighs.
He pulls your legs further apart until you are completely sitting on his face. Worrying about whether he could breathe, you try to sit up but he wraps his arms around your hips so you couldn't move. His tongue laps your folds and your body curls inward. A series of moans erupt from your chest when he flicks his tongue around your clit.
He does the twisting trick with his tongue that hits two of your g-spots at the same time. Your legs flexed and your grip on the counter was so tight that it hurt your palm. "Damn it, Dean. Please," you whimper. He sucks some of your juices as he drags his tongue along the top wall.
A yell left your mouth and your head flew back as he sucked the soul from your body. Your second orgasm took your breath away and your body slumped forward. Your hands rest a few inches away from his head. His grip loosened on your hips but he continues to lick and suck at your pussy.
Your muscles trembled at the mercy of his tongue. He dips his tongue in fast, shallow strokes and your hips move against him, begging for him to hit another g-spot. When he does, your eyes snap shut. He hits the spot over and over again until you fall apart.
You fall backwards on his legs and he sits up. He pulls your into lap and you moan when you feel the pressure of his hardened dick against your moist bundle. He pulls off his boxers and he hisses as his dick embraced it's freedom. You waste no time lowering yourself on to him.
He moans into your mouth as your walls clench around him. You softly bounce on him and he wraps his massive arms around your waist when he thrusts up into you. "I missed you, baby," he grunts. "I missed you too," you say breathlessly. You stop your movements and look him dead in the eyes. "But if you leave me like that again, I'll kill you," you add.
He slams his lips to yours and completely devoured your mouth with his tongue. He tried to pull away but you follow his lips and kiss him again. His hands covered your both of hips and you started to bounce on his a little faster than before, making sure your clench yourself around his tip.
A whiny moan left his mouth and you plant a comforting kiss against his lips. He grew impatient and carefully brings himself to his knees. He sets your back on the counter, which was still warm from his body. He plants one hand next to your head and the other rubs your clit as he thrusts into hard and deep.
Airy cries and grunts fill the room. Tears build up in your eyes as your body folds with overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Dean!" "There you go, sweetheart." His thrusts slow down, but the continue to go deep inside of you. He bites down on the sensitive skin of your neck. His thrusts became sloppy and he releases himself but continued to buck his hips against you until you finally came.
Your eyes close and your hands cover your face because your body was absolutely exhausted. Dean's plump lips bless your check and neck when you hear the door creak open. "Y/N, you alright, sweetheart?" Ellen calls. Your eyes snap open and Dean jumps off of the counter to grab his clothes.
"D-don't come in, Ellen. We're-" "Oh my God, my eyes! I cannot unsee that," Ellen exclaims. She claps a hand over her eyes and you jump off the counter. "On the counter top too!? Jesus, you eat food on there. You guys are trifling," she scolds. "You really know how to ruin a moment, Ellen," Dean says.
"And you really know how to ruin someone's eyes , Dean," she snaps. You scramble to put on your clothes and Dean sends you a wink, making embarrassment flood your cheeks.
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We've Got Tonight - Ch 4
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Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”
Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”
Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.
18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED
Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.
What the hell, let’s give it a shot.
EXTRA WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS THE SOURCE OF MOST OF THE WARNINGS FOR THE STORY. Please don't kill me. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, I PROMISE. It's not over yet. I can't promise you won't hate me when it's over, but I will not leave you here. There's more.
Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.
In case you missed it: Chapter 3 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist
...
We’ve Got Tonight
Ch 4
Pre-dawn is too damn cold, she decides. She has to visually check that her fingers are actually doing up the buttons to her ragged denim jacket. She lost sensation in her hands a while back, and it’s the only way to make sure they’re actually doing their job. Her jacket is utterly unsuitable for the current temperature, but she doesn’t expect to need it for much longer.
Just before sunrise, Crowley told her.
The sky is already lightening on the horizon, the medium gray more obvious than she would have thought against the stark black, but, then, she’s never had much occasion to be out quite this late before. She’s usually done at the diner by six, singing at the club by ten, and in bed by two at the latest. She hopes Crowley is punctual. She can’t decide if the waiting or the cold is worse.
Except that, yes, she really can. The waiting is definitely worse.
The sound of shifting gravel pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns to find the King of Hell himself smiling beatifically at her. She shivers, not bothering to search out the source of her discomfort, as she is rather spoiled for choice at the moment. She’s out in the freezing dark, about to hand over her life and soul to a demon because deranged cultists got it into their heads that they should use her blood to start an apocalypse (and who knew there was more than one of those outside of Sunnydale, seriously).
Shivering is probably the most rational reaction she’s had in a while.
“Hello, darling. Pleasant evening with the boys?”
He’s got more sass in one off-the cuff remark than she has in her entire history, and for a moment she can only marvel at the affected innocence in his expression. It's almost convincing. She opts to remain silent rather than take his bait. He smirks, the expression natural and only a touch derisive.
“No surprises, then? No sidekicks to save you at the last minute from the bad, bad demon?”
“I thought the torture didn’t start until after you kill me,” she sighs, hugging her arms tighter around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill. Maybe she’s got a little spark in her, after all. He laughs, a friendly, personable chuckle that would set anyone else at ease, reassure them of his honorable, benign intentions.
“Come on, Crowley, what's the hold up? I was here on time. Can we just get this over with already? I could have gotten one more round in with Dean if we were just going to stand around, shootin’ the breeze.”
Even watching for it, she can only just see the tick in Crowley's jaw, the slightest tension that betrays...something. She doesn't know what or why, but Crowley has more than a little unhealthy obsession with the elder Winchester brother, and she is pleased she managed to crack his veneer even for the briefest moment.
At least I don't have to worry about Dean, Andy thinks, relief creeping into the sea of dread that is her stomach. Her deal with Crowley was not only about stopping the apocalypse but also keeping Sam and Dean and even Castiel safe.
“Once you're gone, I won’t harm a hair on their precious heads, nor any other part of them,” he swore to her a mere eighteen hours earlier.
“I’m hurt you don't find my company more pleasant, love,” he murmurs, taking a couple of steps closer. He slides his hands in his coat pockets, the very picture of nonchalance. “I do try my best to be cordial, even congenial, after all. But since you’re so very uncomfortable, I suppose you won't object, then, that I took the liberty of inviting a few friends whose company you seem to prefer. What a lovely party we’ll have when they get here.”
As if he’s summoned them, a pair of lights appear in the distance, growing larger with every passing moment. Headlights, she realizes; a second later, she hears the distinctive roaring of a very particular car engine, and before she can turn back to Crowley, the Impala leaps out of the darkness, skidding across the hard-packed dirt road, coming to a halt bare inches from the demon’s impeccably shined shoes.
Andy stumbles back, choking in the cloud of dust the car kicks up, only to hit something solid. Impossibly strong fingers dig into her chin, lifting her face out and away as cold, thin metal is pressed to the side of her neck, and only now does she freeze.
“Let her go, Crowley,” Dean growls, his gun drawn and aimed even before he exits the car. “This isn't her fight, and you know it!” On the other side, Sam and Castiel climb out, Sam drawing his gun and moving to flank the demon.
“I do heartily protest, sir,” Crowley says, his tone mild and conversational. The blade digs in ever so slightly under her ear, and a thin trickle of warmth slides down her skin to soak into her collar. Dean doesn't flinch, but his eyes narrow, and he readjusts his aim.
“Not only is the lady at the epicenter of this fight, she's gone and made herself the brightest star in the show. Ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”
“How-” she manages through fear-numbed vocal cords. Dean should be unconscious, snoring blissfully away in his bed where she left him. She made sure to leave no sort of trail they could follow, and she checked that they were all asleep or otherwise occupied before she took off.
“I wasn’t asleep, Andy,” Dean replies, leveling his gun at Crowley. “And I’ve been tracking since I was seven. Gimme some credit.”
“I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Moose.” Crowley’s words freeze Sam in his tracks, and the blade on Andy’s neck digs in a little deeper. The flow of warmth down her neck widens just a touch. The sheer smugness in Crowley’s tone sets her teeth on edge, breaking through her stupor, and she grabs the hand with the knife, pulling at it with all her might. She, of course, doesn’t make a dent in the demonic strength, but she’s got to try something.
If you asked her later, Andy would swear to you that the searing pain that drags along her neck parallel to her jaw line right then is pure Hellfire. Deep down in the darkest recesses of her mind where all the worst truths lurk, she knows she’s feeling the bite from Crowley’s knife, but in that instant all she is aware of is the agony of the wound, of Dean’s enraged roar, and the juxtaposition of Crowley’s gentle touch pressing her own fingers to something hot and slippery under her jaw.
“Hold pressure there, sweetheart, or you’ll bleed out too soon. Wouldn’t want you to miss the finale.”
Her knees buckle, and she drops, but somehow she stays upright long enough to see Crowley’s demons approach out of the darkness. She tries to warn the boys, but time moves with a dreamlike lethargy that betrays every one of her good intentions, and, anyway, her voice doesn’t seem to be working at the moment. The roar of gunfire all around her sounds faint in comparison to the rushing in her ears, and she is powerless to stop Crowley’s plans from reaching fruition.
“You...said...you wouldn’t...”
“Well, pet, you aren’t dead yet, are you? I’ve got, what, at least another three minutes before you snuff it, by my count. Plenty of time to conclude my business with the Winchesters and their featherbrained friend before you expire.”
Though he was right behind her only a moment ago, Crowley appears abruptly next to Castiel, who at the moment is distracted by two lesser demons both wielding machetes. She realizes as she watches Cas easily fend them off that they, just like Andy, are only a distraction, only bait to tempt the bigger players to overextend themselves.
Too late, she sees the perfection of Crowley’s plan. In all the confusion, she loses track of Sam, and she wrenches her eyes away from Dean’s staggering form only to watch as the angel blade in Crowley’s hand bursts through Castiel’s chest. Then her gentle, confused friend is gone in a flash. The demons vanish, and she can’t find Sam or Dean, can’t reach them, can’t make her voice work to call out.
The quiet is wrong, so out of place after the violent cacophony. The roaring is gone, the gunfire silenced, and all that’s left is a terrible wheezing, gurgling sound that takes her too long to recognize as her own labored breathing.
“Crow...ley…”
“I’m here, darling. What do you need?”
“Lying...bastard…”
“Now, now, sweetheart, are those really what you want your last words to be?” He lifts her easily from the ground, carrying her the few yards to where Dean lies sprawled in the dusty gravel. His shirt is stained black in the retreating darkness, and Andy can only be thankful that she won’t make it to sunrise to see what exact shade of red is spreading over him. Dean’s far hand scrabbles on the ground, stopping its frantic search only when it finds his brother’s.
Sam’s still form doesn’t return his brother’s grip.
“After all, I’ve done you a favor; I didn’t have to give you the opportunity to say good-bye. I can’t promise you adjoining cells, but I’m sure your torture will coincide with his occasionally,” Crowley continues conversationally, “so, really, the two of you should be thanking me that you’ll at least get occasional visiting privileges. It pays to be on good terms with the king, after all. And, who knows? After a couple hundred years of good behavior, I might even be persuaded to-”
“Why?” It’s all she can manage as he lays her on the ground. Dean reaches for her with his free hand, and she is just able to find his fingers. Their eyes meet, but her vision is blurring as breathing gets tougher, and she can’t see what he’s mouthing to her. Even his eyes, such a luminescent green only hours ago, are fading into the remaining dark of the night.
“The Winchesters, dear, it’s always been about the Winchesters. Oh, the fanatics and their doomsday ritual were real enough, as was your blood. I just simply took advantage of the situation, as any intelligent monarch would do. Settled things with the apocalypse groupies, rid myself of some major pains in my rear, and now I get you, to boot! I do love when a plan comes together.”
Dean’s fingers tighten in hers, and she tries to grip his back, but the harder she holds on, the less she can feel him.
She’s not really feeling much of anything but cold now.
“Shut...up...already.”
“Always ungrateful in the end, even after everything I do for them,” Crowley grumbles from above her. But then he does shut up, and she finally feels something besides the cold.
Relief. ...
Chapter 5
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deanncastiel · 2 years
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Hi sweetheart💓 10, 14 and 22!!
beautiful beautiful anz, hi hello!!!!
10. Most disliked arc? Why?
oh this one is good. okay not super juicy sorry but fucking nick in s14, like are you kidding me?? first of all, i was so tired of seeing mark p's face after so many years of lucifer (i maintain that the only good lucifer is from s5, hallucifer [who wasn't even real], and casifer). and then he fucking turns psycho and starts murdering folks and THEN there's that weird subplot where he's almost IN LOVE with lucifer like... bruh that's your WIFE who is stuck in the veil and can't move on until you renounce lucifer and you're just like... "nah babe, sorry, he's my true love" L;KAJSD;LFKJALSKD
AND THEN THEY DIDN'T EVEN FOLLOW THROUGH WITH THE ONLY DECENT THING ABOUT THAT ARC WHICH WAS HOW TO GET SOMEONE OUT OF THE EMPTY I'M SCREAMING
not 100% sure if this is my MOST disliked, but def the one that came to mind first and i clearly have a lot of feelings on ahaha
14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh this one is good too. hmmmmm, probably people spouting opinions about the show when they haven't even watched the whole thing. like i don't mean to gatekeep at all, but if you're going to vehemently defend an opinion or a particular take you should at least be able back up your reasons with canon (depending on the take of course). i think this is especially prevalent with the influx of new fans since 11/05, i've seen so many people who jump on an idea just because they've seen it on their dash and then i go to check their blog and they admit that they've only seen certain episodes or stopped watching after sX or whatever. like i get it, 327 episodes is a lot, and some of them are incredibly boring but i think the least you can do is watch them all once 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
22. Popular character you hate?
oooooohhhhhhhhhhhh. okay, i've gotten better since i came back to fandom last year but i have two - 1) Crowley and 2) Gabriel [dodging the rotten fruit folks are throwing at me]
For Crowley - i used to fucking DESPISE him. like i loved him in seasons 5 - 8, and didn't mind him too much in s9, but once he got on that winchester derangement syndrome train i was out. i fucking hated him. like i said, since i've been back that's chilled out a bit, he's still not my favorite (pls don't hate me) but i do definitely prefer his earlier seasons to his later ones.
and then for Gabriel that is entirely due to the fandom. gabriel was the first character that i noticed the fandom really take on a fanon approach and then fucking run with it. i saw so many fics and takes in the olden days that were just...... not supported by canon and the characterizations that the show was showing us and it really used to annoy me. again i've chilled out since then, whatever, y'all can do whatever you want with these characters, but i didn't particularly enjoy his arc in s13
send me some salty fandom asks ❤️❤️❤️
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