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sardonic-courtney · 3 years

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Crowley x Reader. We Met Before. Part 6/7.

Summary: You end up living with Bobby after your parents die. You go to church and meet Priest Crowley and you end up getting along (if you know what i mean). A few years later when Bobby passes you move the the bunker with Sam and Dean and end up meeting Crowley again.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Warings: Mentions of death, Maybe spelling and language.

Around 1500 words.

A little note before we start, I know technically the bunker isn’t around this time but I’m not following storylines, hence the random case.

Life moves with a Daemon in the basement.

A great way to say goodbye...

Over the next few months, you had expected a call or text, but nothing. To be fair you didn’t exactly try to reach out to him either. Church felt emptier, as did your free time. So, you just spent it building up a great book collection, training, and further bonding with Bobby. Life had turned back to normal. Other than Sam and Dean had became more distant dealing with angels, daemons, heaven, and hell. Which you guess is the usual just busier. You even went on your first few hunts. During one involving a wendigo you lost your phone, only to find it beyond repair. Which cut ties completely with Crowley.

**Four Year Time Jump**

Now 22 years old, you are a full-time hunter still living with Bobby, when you’re not staying in shabby motels.

Your days are filled with hunting, reading, and watching bad movies. And for some reason every Sunday you still found yourself in your spot at church. You told yourself it was still because you wanted to feel closer to your mum, but deep down you knew you were hoping for the chance he would walk back through those doors. But when he didn’t you pushed the sinking feeling away, it was ridiculous to still miss the man you had hardly known. Although when you think about it you did know him, maybe not for long, but you knew more about him then you did about the other close people in your life.

You had been on a few dates with random guys since then, but none of them really stuck, and to be honest you weren’t exactly looking for them to. Everything was going well, which with the life you live was bound to end soon. Which it did.

The shot...

The coma...

The death...

His death...

Bobby was gone.

To say it hit hard was an understatement. You weren’t even there when the shot fired. You visited him as soon as you heard but couldn’t shake the feeling you let him down in some way. Sam and Dean tried to explain what happened, but you didn’t fully understand, or didn’t want to. You mourned alongside Sam and Dean. Ending up moving into the bunker with them, where you resumed going on little hunts with them, but mainly staying back as designated researcher. The bunker was a lot homelier than the random motels, and although your combat was good, it wasn’t what it needed to be with what they were dealing with.

Over the next year you met Castiel when he was “Back to himself” as Dean put it. You two quickly becoming friends, when you got used to his quirks. Everything once again was back to a new normal, well as normal as it could have been. You did stop going to church, no longer seeing the point of finding a new one nearer. You grow closer to the boys, finding new things out about them both.

You and Dean’s relationship is a weird one. He is exactly as you would imagine an older brother to be. But is also annoyingly stubborn, always teasing, and argumentative. But that’s what you love about him. Especially when he would give in and let you take Baby to the shops.

Sam is more like a twin, even though he’s 6 years older than you. You still stayed up late when you could talk about whatever. He is the more freely sensitive one. He is however just as stubborn and caring, especially when it comes to your lack of interest in dating. It was strange but he wants to see you happy with someone. Even though he knows in this life it’s hard, he still wants you to try. Which you don’t see the point. No, it’s not because you can’t picture going on dates and talking to anyone other than that beautiful accent, or because you can’t see yourself kissing any other lips. It’s just because you didn’t see the point, because (Y/N) (L/N) was not the sort of person to be hung up on a guy and his forgotten promise.

Right now, you are sitting in the kitchen with Sam, in silence. You are reading a book you found on a random shelf, and Sam is typing away on his laptop. The past 3 weeks the bunker has been filled with a tense mix of emotions. Hunters had seemed to become the hunted, being killed in many forms some were ripped apart other drained of blood some still full of blood a couple had their eyes ripped out, some even as mundane as being stabbed. But no matter the method, they were all linked by one small mark on the left thumb. A delicate R.

The case was confusing to say the least, and all leads you guys had found turned out to be dead ends. Which is why after a week and a half of no progress, Sam and Dean had decided to call on a certain demon for help…and by call you meant forcefully summon against the king of hells wishes. But no matter how hard they tried they couldn’t get anything out of him.

Not that you really knew who ‘him’ was. All you knew was that even from the basement he managed to cause tension between the brothers. You weren’t allowed down there. That was your rule. Which you begrudgingly followed. Not without your arguments, which you kept up. You love the boys, but it seemed they were getting nowhere with their interrogating, and you being the best at getting information out of the three of you, it seemed like the obvious choice. If the two weren’t so adamant at keeping you away from the whole thing. Being deemed too impressionable or something regarding your safety.

To be honest all you knew was that he was an annoying dick, that Dean was considering killing, and he had the answers to your problems. You didn’t even get to know what Dean and Sam were doing down there to try get information. Which was what Dean was doing now…. or what he was doing before he comes into the kitchen, breaking the silence.

Dean let out a sigh. “I swear he finds joy in pissing me of”.

“That would be the King of hell for you Dean”. Sam says not bothering to look up from his screen.

“Why did we even bother?” Dean slugs into a seat at the table across from you.

“Because we have no other leads.” Sam said seeming bored, but you knew it was him trying to mask his annoyance.

“But it’s been 9 days and he still hasn’t acknowledged the attacks; the cocky bastard keeps rolling his eyes at me. I swear if he makes one more remark, I will stab his eyes out.” Dean looks at Sam, which Sam senses and looks up meeting his brother’s eyes. “Sammy, I don’t know what else to try”.

But before Sam could add anything on you joined in. This being your perfect opportunity to get information and meet this alleged king of hell. “Me! I’m still an option”.

Dean rolled his eyes falling back in his seat, moving his gaze to you. Sam following suit.

“No chance munchkin, as said before we are not taking the chance.” Dean repeated.

“But I don’t understand, why not”. You frowned.

“Because” Sam started this time. “He doesn’t know you exist, and it’s safer that way. He could use you as a weakness to get to us, he could hurt you. It’s just not worth it.”

“But hunters dying is?” you asked, managing to get them speechless. Which they remained. “Common guys. I’m good at getting out information, and like Dean said, what other choices have you got?”

Both the brothers looked at each other and then back at you, still remaining silent.

So, you pulled out your best attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Please, I’ll be safe I promise.”

Dean let out a defeated and gruff “Fine”.

“But we are keeping an eye on you” Sam added trying not to chuckle at how Dean had finally given in. He wouldn’t admit it, but your logic did seem like the best option in his eyes to.

“Deal” you said smiling. The three of you got up, ready to descend downwards to the captive, who hopefully had answers.

For some reason you were excited and nervous. You imagined all the ways you could get information, getting into his head and muddling it out. Sure, he was a daemon, but you had swindled information out of a few before, how different could this one be? But no matter what crossed your mind, you would never have known what had been locked up right under your feet for the past 9 days.

(Pointless note, this was sort of a filler bit for some time to pass. i kind of struggled with mixing past and present tense, but hopefully it’s not too confusing).

#crowley #crowley x y/n #crowley x you #Crowley Supernatural #crowley x reader #PriestCrowley #supernatural x reader #supernatural #xreader #y/n

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samsexualdeancurious · 4 years

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What You Want (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Dean x Reader

Words: 2,128

Summary: The reader finally brings their boys together.

Warning: WINCEST. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, CLICK AWAY NOW. Also - first time Wincest, bottom!Sam, top!Dean, light bondage, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex.

A/N: This was written for Meghan for her March 2020 fic request

Betaed by @manawhaat

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Sam Winchester is beautiful.

This is a well-known fact, in your opinion, but it doesn't hurt to give yourself a moment to just look at him and appreciate him. Those long, long limbs stretched out on your bed, wrists bound to the headboard and feet dangling off the end because not a single bed in the Bunker is long enough for this man. He's stark naked against the sheets, golden skin already covered in a thin sheen of sweat despite the cool temperature of the room, and your eyes happily trace down the lean lines of his torso to where his cock is rapidly hardening against his belly.

"Gorgeous," you murmur from where you stand beside the bed. You reach one hand out to just barely brush your fingertips along the underside of his cock and smirk when it twitches. "So responsive."

Sam shifts his hips on the bed, clearly looking for a little more than that tiny touch, but remains silent because you told him to and Sam is a good boy.

"Such a perfect pet," you praise, leaning down to kiss those soft pink lips. Dean might have lips many women would kill for, but Sam's mouth is equally as sinful. "I have a surprise for you, Sam. Are you ready?"

He nods when you rub your thumb over his lower lip.

"If you don't like what I have in mind, what will you say?" you ask.

"Wendigo," he answers obediently.

"Good boy."

You kiss him once more and then straighten up. After one more lingering look that has Sam squirming a little on the bed, you move to open the door.

"Dean!" you call down the hallway. Behind you, Sam's breath hitches and his lust-blown eyes go wide, but he doesn't safeword. You’re fairly confident that he won’t. After a year or so you’ve spent hopping back and forth between the brothers’ beds, there’s one thing you are absolutely certain of - the Winchester brothers are head over heels in love with each other but are too worried about the other hating them to do anything about it.

Tonight, your goal is to fix that.

Right on cue, Dean rounds the corner. He looks gorgeous today in a blue flannel, grey t-shirt, and an old pair of jeans that cling to his legs in all the best ways.

“What’s up?” he asks as he approaches, bright eyes taking in your naked form.

You beckon him closer. “I have a surprise for you. You can say no if you want to but I really don’t think you want to.”

Dean’s brow furrows but he allows you to take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. As soon as he sees Sam, he freezes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

Sam bites back a whine and the ropes around his wrists are pulled taut as he shifts on the bed.

Dean’s gaze jumps from Sam to you and back again. “I… what…?”

You give his arm a squeeze, gently guiding him closer to the bed. “He wants you. Don’t you, pet?”

Sam’s eyes are misty now, and his cheeks and chest are burning scarlet. Embarrassment, need, curiosity, fear, and desperation swim in those wide eyes. He’s chewing his lip nervously and you move to his side, leaning down to pull his lip from between his teeth.

“Look at him, Dean,” you purr, and Dean’s eyes mirror his little brother’s.

“Sam?” Dean whispers, taking a tentative step closer to the bed. “Do you…?”

Sam nods, almost frantic. That seems to be all the confirmation Dean needs. He kicks off his boots, peels off his socks, and climbs up onto the bed. Sam spreads his legs without any prompting, letting Dean settle on his knees between them.

“Oh,” Dean murmurs, pupils blown wide as his eyes travel over Sam’s body. “Sam.”

You know Dean’s seen Sam naked before - from whispered fantasies you’ve coaxed from Dean in the heat of passion - but never like this. Walking in on a shower and accidental flashes of skin when patching wounds is nothing compared to this sight. He settles his hands on Sam’s thighs and the younger Winchester jumps at the touch. Dean freezes and Sam’s eyes jump up to meet yours.

You brush a hand through his hair. “You can talk now.”

Sam swallows thickly and looks up at Dean again, waiting for green eyes to move up from where they watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “It’s okay.” His voice is barely audible but it grows stronger when Dean’s eyes meet his. “You and Y/N surprised me.”

Dean relaxes and leans down to nuzzle into the side of his neck. “She surprised me, too. Do you want to stop?”

“Only if you want to stop,” is the soft answer.

Dean lifts his head a little to meet Sam’s gaze. The look on his face is the softest, most open expression you’ve seen Dean wear in a long time.

“I want you,” he says, honesty laced through every syllable.

Sam tilts his chin up and captures Dean’s lips in a kiss. You watch as they melt into each other and your own heart triples in size. The amount of love these two have for each other is something you’ll never find anywhere else. The tenderness with which Dean handles Sam moves you. Big hands skim over his brother’s arms, shoulders, and chest to settle on his hips. Sam whines and arches into the body above his.

“Gonna take good care of you,” Dean tells him. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby brother.” He sits up a bit and just looks, taking in the sight of Sam with his kiss-swollen lips and leaking cock and long, long limbs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Sam’s cheeks color, adorable spots of pink. You can’t resist running a hand through his hair, smiling fondly.

“Y/N,” Dean says as he begins shedding his clothes and your attention jumps to him. “C’mere.”

You scoot down the bed until you’re close enough for Dean to pull you in for a passionate kiss. Sam moans at the sight, squirming beside you.

“Thank you.” Dean’s breath is warm against your lips. “You’re so good to us.”

You smile and kiss him again. “Anything for my boys.”

“Got any lube?” He shoots Sam a wink and chuckles at the shiver that runs through his brother’s body.

You grab the lube from the bedside drawer and toss it to Dean before settling beside Sam on the bed. You stroke his hair, watching as Dean slicks his fingers. His hand disappears from view and then Sam makes a little broken sound that you’re very familiar with.

“Dean,” he gasps, pressing his hips into Dean’s touch.

“Yeah,” Dean replies, eyes locked on what his fingers are doing. “Fuck, baby brother. So sensitive. And tight. Think you’ll be able to fit my cock?”

Sam nods, verging on frantic, and you press a soothing kiss to his forehead.

“Easy, pet.” You scratch your fingers across his scalp. “You’ll get what you want. Dean’s gonna take good care of you, isn’t he? Do his fingers feel good? Imagine how good his cock will feel.”

Sam whimpers, lust-blown eyes jumping between you and Dean. “Need it.”

“I know, I know.” You kiss him. “But you gotta be patient.”

Sam’s eyes flick between you and Dean again before he draws a slow breath and nods. Dean does something with his fingers, though, and Sam arches off the bed with a cry.

“Oh yeah,” Dean chuckles. “Found it. You like that?”

Sam nods, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open. You’ve never seen him this desperate before. Every fiber of his being is vibrating with anticipation and desire.

“Dean, please,” he chokes out, arms flexing against the ropes holding him in place. “I’m ready.”

Dean twists his hand, a movement visible in his arm, and smirks at the sound that pulls from Sam’s throat. “Condom?”

You reach for the drawer but stop when Sam shakes his head.

“I’m clean,” he whispers. “Got tested a couple months ago so Y/N and I could go bare.”

Dean groans and leans down to kiss Sam. “I did the same thing. Fuck, baby, you wanna feel me?”

Sam nods, chasing Dean’s lips when he pulls away. “I want all of you.”

“Fucking hell.” Dean kisses him again, this time with more of the reserved passion and deep love that he carries around in his heart of hearts - the truth of Dean’s that makes him who he is, that only a select few people will ever catch a glimpse of. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Pull me out of a fire as a baby,” Sam replies with a soft smile. “And save my life a hundred more times since then.”

Dean’s expression softens and pulls that same depth from Sam. Fingers stroking Sam’s cheek, they both succumb to it, bask in the honesty and connection they’ve been building their whole lives. They don’t shy away from it like they usually would and you suddenly feel like you’re intruding on a private moment that isn’t meant for you. “I’d do it a hundred times more. That’s my job, right? Look out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?”

Sam’s voice is delicate - timid, almost- as he smiles and lifts his head to kiss his big brother. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes are shiny when he opens them, resting his forehead against Sam’s and drawing a shaky breath. You knew how much the boys loved each other but seeing them finally admit it is something entirely different. “Love you, too, Sammy.”

They kiss again, a slow moment drawn out even further when Dean starts to pull away and Sam chases his lips. Dean caves easily and this time they don’t stop until they’re breathless. Dean presses soft kisses to Sam’s cheek, his jaw, and then you see him whisper something in Sam’s ear that makes the younger Winchester nod.

Suddenly, two sets of eyes are on you. You squirm a little, glancing between them.

“Y/N,” Dean purrs, sitting up. He reaches for you, drawing you in for a kiss. “You know we love you, too, right?”

Your cheeks warm. “Dean-”

“Ah, ah.” He fits his free arm around your waist. “Tell her, Sammy.”

“We love you,” Sam says, tone leaving no room for argument. He is a little breathless, though, and when you glance down you see Dean’s fingers twist just so. “You’re one of us, now.”

“You haven’t died and come back to life yet,” Dean jokes. “But I think we can waive that and make you an honorary Winchester.”

“Does that make me your sister, then?” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively and feel warmth burst in your chest at the twin laughter that springs out of the boys.

“I mean, I’m three fingers deep in my brother’s ass,” Dean points out, all too matter of fact about the whole thing. “I think throwing one more sibling into the equation can’t make things much weirder.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “I think you should fuck your brother before he explodes. Poor boy is desperate.”

Dean grins and kisses you again. “I think you should ride Sam’s cock.”

Arousal shoots down your spine at those words and you hear Sam groan his approval.

“Fuck. Yes.” You punctuate each word with a kiss. “Sammy?”

“Do it,” is all he can manage.

Having hoped the boys would want you to join in, you’re more than ready to take a cock. Dean directs you to straddle Sam’s hips with gentle hands. Feeling Dean steady Sam’s cock beneath you is almost too much, and your mouth falls open as you sink down on Sam. Dean shifts up, one arm looping around your waist to steady himself as he moves into his brother. Sam makes a choked sound, head flying back.

“All good, Sam?” you ask, rubbing Dean’s arm with one hand and Sam’s belly with the other.

“It’s… a lot,” he says. His eyes give him away. It’s more than just a physical overload… he’s crossing a line with Dean that can’t be uncrossed. Not that he wants anything other than what he has right now.

As if he can sense what Sam’s thinking, Dean presses a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and smooths gentle hands over Sam’s thighs. “Need us to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sam growls, hips twitching beneath you. He’s desperate and there’s an intimacy in the air that drags on your skin, pulls you down deeper over Sam and has Dean pressing against you like the three of you can’t be close enough.

Dean rumbles out a soft laugh against your skin. “Don’t worry, Sammy. We’ve got you.”

---

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—

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#wincest #wincest x reader #my writing #spn fanfic #sam x dean x reader

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kiss-my-freckle · 4 years

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The parallels reveal the playout. From surrogate daughter Abigail to surrogate daughter Mischa. From sister Margot back to sister Mischa. It’s the very reason Will doesn’t take off with Hannibal. I love this episode because it pushes back to 2x12 with Mason, then forward to Achilles and Patroclus on the cliff. Racking up the pain since 3x2, Will's human nature wanted the pain to stop, so he tried to kill Hannibal. Surrogate daughter to surrogate daughter. In this episode, Mason decides it wise to poke the beast within. He talks to Will about his tusked friend gutting him. It's the wendigo's instinct to disembowel. As Chilton said, "with these two, that's tantamount to flirtation." Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and restored it to humanity. Perfect placement. What happens when humanity plans to use that stolen fire to sizzle his wendigo friend... the stag bites into Cordell when he tries to apply lotion to his face. I love the markers. "It rubs the lotion on its skin." Pushing back to Will's reflection in the well water at Miriam's rescue site. Delicious stuff as he plans to steal Will's face. A mistake for Mason to mess with Margot while he's got her psychiatrist roped up in the pig pen, and he has no idea that his own psychiatrist is friends with Will Graham. Will knows the level of damage Hannibal is capable of because he saw it himself. Alana cutting Hannibal loose runs parallel to Will cutting him loose in 2x12. Only difference is the number of pigs he's being fed to. "Mason Verger is a pig, and he deserves to be somebody's bacon." Cordell brands Hannibal a "Verger" pig, parallel to his 2x12 role. "Dr. Lecter's the one you want to be feeding to your pigs." Margot's second unborn child sewn in a pig, parallel to Will's 2x12 role. "You must be the baby daddy." All of this solidifies more story for them in a fourth season because Will won't let Hannibal kill Alana. Shedding his humanity won't stop him from loving. She taps into it as the beast starts to settle. He's upset to find out she facilitated torture and death, and the police department brought them to the table. "Almost as ugly as what Mason wants to do to us is the fact that he can do it with the tacit agreement of people sworn to uphold the law." It's one thing to work outside the law for the greater good and kill someone quickly as he was hoping to kill Hannibal. Quite another to work outside the law for a nice payday and hand them over to be tortured and killed. But... "There is no mercy. We make mercy... manufacture it in the parts that have overgrown our basic reptile brain."

Having already adapted, he tells Alana to evolve. "Adapt. Evolve. Become." To save Will, she has to spill blood, and she knows it. He offers her a great solution. If you can't do the killing, just release my wendigo friend. I do believe Alana would "become" in a fourth season. "I was trying to save Will from you." She put more energy in trying to save Will from Hannibal when she should've tried saving Will from Jack. "Could I have ever understood you?" I believe she would in a fourth season because of Will. Margot's scene with Hannibal parallels and pushes. They do a nice-side-by-side scene cut. Cordell is taking Will's face to make a pig look human. Scene cut from Chiyoh (the most stable) to Will and his broken teacup because he's unstable. It shatters as an already broken teacup would, and it won't truly gather itself back together again. it's not supposed to. Will is left standing like Chiyoh was. Between the past and the future, between death and resurrection. Taxidermy. He'll hollow himself of Hannibal, Jack, and Alana. FiIll himself with something else. That's how he's able to let go of his friend for three years... he lets go of both sides of the split-screen. They show both sides of this split-screen in the way they cut scene. The shattered teacup being Hannibal's stag friend cutting into. The police lights being his FBI friend cutting out of.

As I said before, Will isn't one teacup, he's two. The teacup coming together in 3x2 was for Jack's friend. That's why his face is on the teacup. This pushes to 3x9 when Will looks in the mirror and his face starts chipping away. The teacup that shatters in this scene is for the stag... which Hannibal tried to eat in 3x6. The teacup remains shattered for the purpose of Francis' storyline. To become the lion, he has to build a new body. He can't be fragile anymore. So while he lies about delighting in wickedness, he truly doesn't want to think about Hannibal. His trip to the Lecter estate didn't do the stag any good. He believes Hannibal killed and ate Mischa, that he does this to his family because he just had his head cut into. He needs to differentiate the wendigo branded as a pig and the actual pig. That's why Hannibal was at Mason's table. The difference between the way Hannibal treated Mischa and the way Mason treated Margot. Hannibal surrenders because he won't leave without his family. It's not a matter of Will finding him, it's a matter of Will listening to him. They play the same soundtrack. In 2x13, 3x6, this scene with Will and Hannibal, and the deleted epilogue scene. Thematic, it seems. From 2x13 to 3x6 for the death of the lamb. From 3x7 to the deleted epilogue scene for the resurrected lion. That last gif is the core of Francis' storyline. Stripped down to these three characters, reveals everything. Stuck between humanity with Jack and inhumanity with Hannibal.

#Hannibal #3x7

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cagirl9270 · 4 years

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I’m posting this now before Supernatural actually ends. It’s just something I thought of. I don’t want it to end at all, but this theory came to me and I went with it.

Chuck is not God as he claims to be, and thank heavens for that because he would make a dreadful one. I have been thinking about the possible outcome of the end of Supernatural for sometime now, and with Covid-19 stunting production and just about everything else on the planet—hey we never wanted Supernatural to end anyway, so here we have it, not ending—I have had time to ponder things.

Chuck is not God, he is, however, a genius. He is a talented writer who has studied the King James Version of the Bible, along with every kind of monster lore there is because it fascinated him. He has loved making up wonderful and terrifying stories since he was young. His father was even, at one time concerned for his well-being and pushed him to play sports. He hated it, but did, as an obedient son. When his father wasn’t around, he continued to write as it was his true passion. He felt it was his gift. He felt in charge. He felt like a god. He could control every circumstance. He could control the weather if he wanted to. He could create a world with only monsters. He did. He decided there was such a place, but he didn’t have a name for it yet, so he called it The Monster World, just so he wouldn’t forget it was there. Soon Chuck created his own earth, with his own people. Of course this earth was just like this one. It was what he knew, what he studied, but then he added some elements into his earth that ours didn’t have.

Chuck brought demons into his world, vampires, wendigos, shape shifters, ghosts, and every other thing that goes bump in the night. Chuck made them real on his earth. Now his earth needed someone who would be willing to fight these things. He didn’t want Super heroes. That had been done to death. He wanted humans. He wanted humans that would fight for their lives for the sake of the human race. He wanted that because maybe his own world lacked that. So Chuck created two young men. He decided they were brothers, but that wasn’t enough. Just being brothers fighting against monsters for the sake of humanity? People would want to understand why! So being a god, Chuck created the Winchester family, a family that on the surface would seem suburban. Husband, Wife, and two children. But it would go so much deeper than that. And all along, Chuck knew how the story was going to play out.

Now we all know how it starts, so I will skip ahead a bit. But instead of the books being kind of underground and a cult classic, they are big like the show, and for the sake of this commentary, the show itself doesn’t exist only the books do, Chuck is increasingly aware of his power to create. He is getting a little in over his head in the season 3 area which would be closing in around book 60 if we assume each episode represents a book. So now he has reached wild fame (think Harry Potter/Game of Thrones) and maybe there are talks of TV or movies. But Chuck doesn’t want that. Remember how elusive he actually was in the show. So he sends Dean to hell believing that would end the series. The producers often left on a note that would close the series, in case they were not picked up in the fall. When the books were not enough the fans demanded more.

Now in season 4, Chuck the Prophet was writing again. He was called a prophet because he didn’t want the boys to know he was God. That can still be viable here as Chuck is becoming so attached to his books and therefore more convinced that he is a god. This is when Sam and Dean become self aware for the first time. It scared Chuck. In fact, it skewed his reality so much that he decided to end it for good because it was too much. He decided that this time Sam would say yes to Lucifer, he would go to hell and Dean would finally get that life he deserved. The End? Do you remember that Chuck ended it with a question mark? He did.

Once again, the writers/producers left it open should the show come back. Chuck wasn’t ready to give up his world either. It was so perfectly created and Sam and Dean were his favorites. He brought them back by popular demand but to keep reality from blending with fantasy he left Sam without a soul, threw in Mother Eve, so that the boys would forget they were real.

Then the leviathan came and a lot of Dick jokes happened because Chuck was having fun screwing with everyone. And I believe he met Becky in real life and that they dated, and that she dumped him because he was crazy, and by this time he was an alcoholic. She also couldn’t help but notice how strangely and oddly connected he was to Sam and Dean. Don’t get her wrong, she loved the boys too, but they were fictional. And having her put a spell on Sam in one of the books just so he would marry her, was a low blow she thought.

By the eight season or mid 100s at this point of writing, we are looking at the trials and throwing the biggest massive shit the boys have ever seen; including a Knight from Hell. When they meet the scribe of god, he's small, old, and more crazy old man than an angel who scribed god’s word. But let’s look a little closer at Metatron for a minute: when we meet him he speaks of writing and storytelling and how it is like being a god. I am not sure if Metatron/Marv is a real person to Chuck, perhaps a past teacher or crazy uncle. Whoever he is, he seems to be someone Chuck trusts. Think of season 11 when Chuck is writing and his book is a suicide note.

This brings me to Amara. I think she may be real too. Marv brings Amara to Chuck (not Dean—though in the series/books it is, of course, otherwise) In this version, Marv brings Amara to Chuck to save him because he tried to kill himself because he was going crazy. He could no longer tell what was real. He was having full blown conversations with Sam and Dean, as well as Lucifer and Castiel. He couldn’t take it anymore. His world was slowly dying. Remember at the climax of 11, when Amara injured Chuck and the world started to die? It was her that ultimately saved Chuck.

Since Marv was encouraging Chuck to write, Amara told him to stay out of Chuck’s life that he was poisoning his mind. Amara (in the series) killed Metatron—painfully—so Chuck might see his banishment as death.

All is right with the world, except it felt unfinished. Chuck had to complete his story. The boys were not together. They needed unity. They needed family. They needed, their mother. But it’s never that easy. Chuck decided to keep writing; despite his sister’s wishes. She left him again. He did what he did best. He wrote and gave the fans more. Of course, The Men of Letters was not his best work, but he had bigger plans. He just needed the boys to be distracted. If they were distracted, it meant they were quiet. They didn’t talk to him. They were busy. They had work to do.

Then, Chuck got careless and decided to make a baby. It had been done so many times before. But this time it would be different. Satan’s baby was not going to be good or evil. It was up to the world, to the child, and well, as luck would have it Chuck! He was god after all.

As Chuck continued on this path, he grew deeper and deeper into his psychosis of him being a god. He began creating alternate universes all containing Sam’s and Dean’s. Sometimes everything was backwards, sometimes it was all yellow, and sometimes they were squirrels, but his first Sam and Dean, our Sam and Dean remained his favorite.

Chuck medicated himself with alcohol, with prescription drugs, anything he could think of to silence his characters. They were so loud and demanded his attention. He couldn’t make them handle their world alone anymore. “Free will” as he called it, much like what he learned in the Bible wasn’t working. His characters demanded answers. Chuck was losing the battle worse than ever before. He reached out to Amara, but she couldn’t handle his mental issues anymore and begged him to check himself into a hospital.

Desperate for reality and maybe even validation, Chuck reaches out to Becky only to find out she is married and has children. This is where it finally unravels and he loses all control. Chuck writes Becky off in the most literal sense. He obliterates her in his story along with her family. They are all gone. The story continues to get scarier and bloodier with him at the helm as a vengeful and wrathful god. Sam and Dean are warriors though and they fight valiantly. They will no longer have their lives played out or dictated by Chuck. It is by their rules.

In the end, the bitter end, Chuck is found alone in his hospital room with words written all over the walls, he is on the floor and writing furiously. Amara is being escorted in by Dr. John Winchester and Dr. Mary Campbell. Perhaps, Cas is a nurse, Sam and Dean are brothers but they are patients, and part of the group therapy sessions. Each of the supporting characters playing some role in his reality, that is now a mental institution with us not knowing how long he has been there or Chuck himself. The last thing he writes, “Carry on…”

#supernatural #jensen ackles #deanwinchester #misha collins #castiel #jared padalecki #samwinterchester #just a theory #ihopeitdoesntendlikethis #becausethatwouldsuck #justwordvomit

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hannigrammest · 4 years

Text

The Story of How Hannigram Became Canon to Those Who Are in Doubt

This post is mostly meant for the casual viewers who I noticed have joined Hannibal Subreddit after the news about the S4 negotiations. It is great that we are growing in numbers, but there seems to be a misunderstanding in regard to Hannigram (the romantic relationship between Will and Hannibal) and people who ship this pairing.

Hannigram is not a fanon pairing. It is not ‘just in the heads’ of silly girls or overly-romantic viewers. It is a canonically acknowledged couple that is supported massively by the cast and Bryan Fuller. Furthermore, this romance is the essence of the show, because Will and Hannibal find everything in each other. No, their relationship is not based merely on romance or sexual attraction. But also no, a more explicit romance in S4, which seems very likely and has been hinted at many times, will not destroy the complexity of the relationship. It will add to it.

The first part is canon evidence of Hannigram season by season. The second part of this huge post is tweets, quotes, and photos with Bryan and cast in regard to Hannigram. (Sorry, I can't seem to break the post in parts for easier reading, the formatting links don't work here for some reason.)

THE SHOW ITSELF

Season 1 is obviously the most ambiguous one in this regard because the relationship only starts to develop. And yes, the majority of scenes can be interpreted as the blossoming friendship, because it is a friendship first and foremost. Even several rather romantic moments can be technically classified as such — but only if you ignore the looks that Will and Hannibal give each other and the later narrative. Still, this is all ambiguous at this stage.

When Hannibal offers Will to take care of Abigail, he repeatedly calls them her “fathers”. Not “uncles” or “caretakers” or any other option — fathers, and while this word by itself might not mean much, it is clearly supposed to hint at what kind of relationship is going to unite Will and Hannibal in the future. In 1.07, Will doesn’t come to the appointment and Hannibal is pining. It is a very powerful and explicit scene, with Hannibal slowly walking to his chair, checking his calendar to make sure Will had to come, touching the phone longingly, then abruptly making a decision and going to look for him. All of this is accompanied by the corresponding music. Is this scene romantic? Some may see it this way, some may disagree. But I think most will agree that such obvious pining is a common romantic trope that's often shown in media. The focus and the way the scene is presented are everything: they didn't just show that Will didn't come and that Hannibal decided to find him. No, we had a slow focus on all his hesitant actions and his longing for contact. In any way, at this stage, it is no longer a mere friendship. It goes deeper, to the point where Hannibal can’t stand not knowing where Will is and craving contact enough to drive for hours in the search for him.

Once again in 1.07, Will brings Hannibal a bottle of wine out of blue and acts awkwardly and shyly when declining the invitation to join the dinner party. We don’t know why Will did it and it is never addressed again, but I think everyone will agree that bringing a bottle of wine to another person for no reason and just for him has a rather romantic shade.

Then, in that same scene, Will claims he can’t stay because he has ‘a date with a Chesapeake Ripper’. It is a joke, of course, but once again, it’s fiction. The word choice is very deliberate, and Bryan loves to foreshadow the upcoming events.

In 1.08, Will drives an hour in the snow to tell Hannibal about the kiss with Alana and Hannibal exhibits a very controlled jealousy, making a snarky comment about the long drive and telling Will that he had been motivated not by attraction, but by the need to find a balance.

In 1.09, Hannibal calls him and Will Abigail’s fathers again and touches his shoulder. Yes, it is ambiguous, but when (especially) you know what’s coming, you can’t help but notice how this touch is too hesitant and fragile for a mere gesture of friendship and unity. I’ll just say, even my father caught up on it right away, which is saying something.

These are the most explicit things I recall from season 1. Now, season 2 is way more direct.

Many scenes of Hannibal pining, sitting with a glass of wine and staring at Will’s chair at his time of appointments is a common romantic trope. Yes, it can be interpreted in different ways — for example, Will has already become a part of Hannibal and Hannibal misses him as the person who has the power to understand him. However, I feel like I have to emphasize the fact that it cannot be the only reason. Hannibal has already met people with extreme empathy before, such as Pazzi. He has also met people who were happy to join him and who had similar mindset, as Tobias Budge. Hannibal wasn’t interested in them, but he’s interested in Will. Will is special because he is himself, and like Hannibal will say later, love either pays you a visit or it does not. It clearly did with Will.

Soon after Will is released from prison, he goes to Hannibal to start the implementation of his and Jack’s plan. What does he choose to do? He dresses up and polishes himself up, presenting himself to Hannibal in the way that we have never seen him before. The first thought that comes to mind is ‘seduction’. Consciously or unconsciously, Will makes himself look as attractive as possible.

In 2.08, Hannibal touches Will’s face and holds it, staring into his eyes. This is romantic. It is one of the most popular romantic tropes that ever existed. ‘Transcendent’ love doesn’t require this kind of very intimate touch to be displayed. More than that, things become very dangerous here because if there had been no explicit follow-up, Bryan would have been accused of queerbaiting. Fortunately, it wasn’t the case.

In 2.09, Will has a dream where Hannibal directly calls him his ‘beloved’ several times. In 2.10, Hannibal treats Will’s hands very gently and we get camera focusing on it thoroughly. It is a deliberate depiction of eroticism that's often used in romances to create and underline romantic and/or sexual tension. In the same episode, we have a beautiful sex scene, seemingly between Hannibal and Alana and Will and Margot. However, it is there to show a very intimate and all-encompassing connection that is developing between Will and Hannibal, and it is structured this way specifically. Will reaches orgasm when he sees the Wendigo, a reflection of Hannibal. The words used before, like Hannibal's words about "never touching", are said to Alana but put on the image of Will.

Alana notices the shift in this relationship and asks Will and Hannibal about it. They talk about “crossing boundaries” and the fact that they “know where we are with each other”, and Alana clearly remains suspicious. In the end of the episode, Will and Hannibal have an intimate dinner full of lingering glances.

In 2.11, the episode starts with the eating of ortolans, which has being pointed out as an allusion to blowjob by the creator) If you have missed it, just re-watch this scene again with this in mind. It is very explicit, to the point of being uncomfortable. Hannibal’s reaction to learning that Margot is pregnant from Will is to hint Mason about it, thus endangering her and her child. Granted, he seems to genuinely regret it, but the deed is done. It is a jealous and possessive reaction, which has been further confirmed by Mads. During the con, he said: "If Margot had Will’s baby, it would be very hard for Hannibal to get over it. He’d be jealous and very grumpy." In this same episode, Alana looks at the burnt ‘Shiva’ that Hannibal has left for Will and calls it a ‘courtship’. So, we get the explicit confirmation that Hannibal is courting Will. And no, he isn’t courting an emerging killer in Will because at this point, he thinks that Will has already embraced his potential by killing Randall and Freddie and eating her. To Hannibal’s mind, Will is almost ready, but he is too lovesick to stop. Can you imagine him digging up the corpse of ‘Freddie’, decorating it, and displaying like that? It’s hilariously romantic — in a dark way.

In 2.12, Will chooses Hannibal by freeing him from the trap and then not giving him up to Jack after he mutilates Mason. Hannibal draws a fanart (!) of himself and Will as Achilles and Patroclus. For those who don’t know, these two are popular examples of lovers. This isn't just friendship. The reference to Achilles and Patroclus is often used to hint at a romance, it's a popular trope as well.

In 2.13, Hannibal talks about ‘imago’, an image of a loved one, and then says that he and Will have an image of each other and offers him to run away. Two men running away together to reunite with their daughter is romantic. Will chooses Hannibal once again by calling him, but it is too late. We get a heartbreakingly tender and intimate touch between them before the stabbing. As Mads said, "Will is the light of Hannibal's life and Hannibal killed Abigail to break Will's heart the way he broke his." Just as he said that "Hannibal was blinded by love."

Season 3 is where all subtext is taken into text. Hannibal has chosen Bedelia as a substitute to Will, and note how many people believe they become lovers. So, why Will and Hannibal running away is platonic, but Hannibal doing the same with Bedelia is not? Even though when the only person he does love is Will. We see that he is dissatisfied with Bedelia and is growing restless.

In 3.01, we get a flashback to Gideon who teases/mocks Hannibal by saying, ‘If only that company could be Will Graham’. So, in the very limited interactions, even he managed to glimpse the attraction, because let’s be honest, he didn’t have time to understand all deep layers of this relationship, but his phrase has been included deliberately.

In this episode, Hannibal meets Anthony, practically a Will mirror. He looks similarly, is smart, sassy, and he is even enthusiastic about Hannibal’s crimes. Ideally, he is everything Hannibal has wanted. But what does he do? He kills Anthony and turns him into a Valentine heart for Will. Before that, he makes an example of the heart from Da Vinci’s ‘perfect man’. In 3.02, Will recognizes it as such and calls it a Valentine and a ‘broken heart’. He asks himself, “Do I still want to go with him?”, and answers, “Yes”.

In 3.03, we get the first ‘in love’ confirmation. Hannibal is shaken after seeing Will and hearing his words of forgiveness. When talking about him with Bedelia, Bedelia says, “Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love”, and Hannibal replies, “You can’t control with respect to whom you fall in love”. The longing for Will has made Hannibal reckless, and Bedelia notices it by mentioning that he is going to get caught with this kind of behavior. In the end of the episode, Hannibal once again says that Will makes him feel love. He adds, “Love. He pays you a visit or he doesn’t.” Which love can either come to a person or not? Technically, these words could be interpreted as platonic love, but in the beginning of this very episode, we got a confirmation that the nature of this love is romantic. Will, in turn, is still reverent about Hannibal and even travels to his home to find out more about him. His attitude changes when he sees Chiyoh, who he sees as another toy abandoned by Hannibal, and it brings back the insecurities. We see it through how often Will compares himself and Chiyoh and how he is filled with anger and bitterness again (which were absent before this meeting). Chiyoh sees right through him and repeatedly states that Will is wrong to compare them, but Will persists.

In 3.04, we see that Will spends a lot of time sitting in Hannibal’s house, which is yet another romantic trope. Even Alana knows where to find him. Will admits to Jack that he “wanted to run away with Hannibal”, which also has a romantic connotation. Before that, Will was making the boat that he later uses to come and find Hannibal. This scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. He also literally sails after Hannibal, which is considered extremely romantic by many tropes at once. Chilton calls Will and Hannibal’s interactions a “flirtation” in this episode.

In 3.05, when discussing what to do with Hannibal, Chiyoh says, “I told you, there are means of influence other than violence” and kisses Will, thus showing him what others means exist. It is yet another direct allusion to the romantic part of Will and Hannibal’s relationship because Chiyoh basically offers him to kiss Hannibal instead of trying to kill him.

In 3.06, Hannibal says the famous, ”If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time”. He said the same words to Clarice in the books shortly before having sex with her. It is an utterly romantic phrase that just cannot have any other meaning, especially when you count the narrative and the source material. Will adds some more romantic phrases, like “We are conjoined, I wonder if either of us can survive separation.” Such level of love is incredible, but you don’t say things like that to a person who you feel can just understand you. Nor to a simple friend or a spiritual mentor. It’s everything at once, especially when coming from Will. Things go badly after that and we get a knife and a drill. Scenes in Mason’s house are great and show that Will and Hannibal could be a great team. Hannibal saves Will and carries him home bridal-style. He changes his clothes, puts him into bed, and waits for him to wake up while writing down formulas that could change the time and erase some of the events. When Will wakes up, Hannibal admits that he has discovered Will in his Mind Palace, victorious, thus giving the power into his hands. When Will rejects him (by saying he’s not going to miss him), Hannibal gives himself up, knowing that chances are, he will never get back to freedom and he will never see Will again. Prison is the ultimate act of love because Hannibal is helpless there, completely on Will’s mercy. As Mads said during the con, "Will forgetting him was the last thing Hannibal wanted to hear, so that’s why he surrendered. The only way Will would see him again is if he’s in jail, and he would eventually visit. He was afraid he’d never see Will again otherwise."

3 years pass and we see that Will has a family. But — surprise! He is unhappy. He doesn’t even go fishing with them to have some time for himself. He hides the letter from Hannibal and goes to read it in the middle of the night. He never returns Molly’s ‘I love you’, never attempts to touch her, can’t even keep up a conversation with her, and literally sees himself falling to pieces. At the earliest opportunity, he jumps at the chance to see Hannibal. He didn’t have to do it. We are shown that he has recreated the crime scene perfectly, better than ever before, but Will lies to Jack about it and asks to see Hannibal.

In 3.09, we have a very powerful scene of Hannibal and Will reuniting, exchanging long sorrowful and heartbroken gazes. Hannibal says, “I gave you a child”, which puts him and Will in a category of parents again. He says that Will has chosen a ready-made family and Will doesn’t argue. We get a “Murder Husbands” reference from Freddie.

In 3.10, Will seeks Bedelia out. He acts catty and jealous. Bedelia calls him “Hannibal’s bride”, and calls Will out on visiting Hannibal just because he missed him, which Will doesn’t deny. He is confident and snarky at those scenes, using every opportunity to cut into Bedelia for having a relationship with Hannibal and surviving it in even better shape than he did. Bedelia says, “My relationship with Hannibal is not as passionate as yours”, and then adds: “You are here visiting old flame. Is your wife aware of how intimately you and Hannibal know each other?” They literally place Hannibal on the same level as Will’s wife. Then we have, “Your experience of Hannibal’s attention is so profoundly harmful yet so irresistible, it undermines your ability to think rationally.”

In 3.11, Hannibal sends Francis after Molly and Walter. Will doesn’t really comfort them, we see clearer than ever what a wedge exists between them. Hannibal asks, “How is the wife?”, which is another display of blatant jealousy. Will gets it, and he can’t deny the truth any longer.

In 3.12, we have the exchange that should have settled the debates about romantic part of relationship once and for all. Bedelia compares herself and Will to Hannibal/Bluebeard’s wives, and mentions how she would have preferred to be the last — the one that Will is. Will asks, “Is Hannibal in love with me?”, and Bedelia replies, “Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you, and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?” Will’s look and his silence speak volumes as everything fades to black slowly. This is it, the textually explicit confirmation. Fans didn’t come up with the idea that Will and Hannibal are in love, it was stated directly on screen, several times.

Shortly before the confession, Bedelia says, "It excites him, knowing that you marked in this particular way." Personally, I always felt some sexual subtext in this phrase, and it is confirmed when we regard the similar scene in the book. Clarice gets sperm on her face and these same words sound. Granted, the situations are very different, but it proves that the phrase does indeed have sexual connotations, and it was deliberately planned like this.

Will devises a complicated and deadly plan after this. He sets up Chilton, which can be seen as courting gift to Hannibal, and in 3.13, he lies to everyone to break Hannibal out of prison. Bedelia calls him out on it once again, saying, "Can't live with him. Can't live without him." Will doesn't deny it - he confirms it. When Hannibal says he'll agree to the plan if Will says 'please', Will does it - in an obviously flirting way. Hannibal calls him a 'cunning boy', which is once again obvious flirting, especially considering the way he says it. His plan results in the deaths of numerous officers, but Hannibal is free. We have another romantic trope where Hannibal pretends that Will is a hitchhiker and asks if he’s going his way. In the house, they have another loaded conversation where Will admits that he doesn’t think he can save itself, and that it’s fine.

Predictably, Will can’t handle seeing Hannibal killed, so he reaches for his gun. We know the rest. At the cliff, Will finally accepts the truth, and he gives the fate a chance to stop both of them or to set them free. They fall into the ocean under the Love Crime song, and since the water symbolizes reborn, we can guess what happens after that.

Post-credits scene indicates that Will and Hannibal have paid a visit to Bedelia and are in the process of eating her while she’s hiding the fork to stab one of them as he approaches. The deleted epilogue to the series shows that they are in perfect harmony now.")

Who's too lazy to read all of that, you can just check the quotes below and watch some fan videos where direct lines from canon are presented. My two favorites:

Reciprocity

Crazy in love

QUOTES

Initially, during S1, Bryan said he wanted to explore the idea of “heterosexual male friendship”. However, he later admitted that he was worried about negative homosexual stereotypes surrounding the imbalance in power in the relationship between Will and Hannibal, and in the podcast due to the beginning of American Gods, he confessed that he “wanted to approach “Hannibal” from the angle that no one has explored before — the angle of romance”.

During the airing of S2-S3, and beyond, Bryan was the one who pointed out romantic and even sexual subtext, and promoted Hannigram further. The cliff scene is officially labeled as "Kiss_alts".

Their love is queer

A collection

Canon. Original tweet is deleted, so only Bryan's is left. The person asked him to say whether Hannigram is canon.

Falling

Last wife

They Flip

Always

Will and Hannibal survived the Fall

Mere teasing, but it shows that Bryan does acknowledge sexual tension between Will and Hannibal: They did change clothes as well as Their lips were busy (to the question of what Will and Hannibal were doing in the car in TWOTL).

Bryan's favorite quote from the show: Is Hannibal in love with me?

Finally, the shirt Bryan wore at one of the latest meetings

Hugh on why it took Will so long to realize Hannibal is in love with him

Hugh on Will's reaction to Bedelia's answer about Hannibal being in love with him: ‘Oh crap, maybe this thing I’m feeling is love’

Hugh: Relief from loneliness

Hugh: It's romance

Mads: It was love at the first sight

You know better than to breed

Will Graham is covered in Hannibal’s body fluids

Bryan: I feel one is omnisexual and one is heterosexual and there's a lot of influence going back and forth, who knows with a six pack of beer what would happen: http://uproxx.com/sepinwall/hannibal-creator-i-wanted-to-be-sure-we-had-an-ending-for-the-story/

To the question of whether explicit Hannigram was a part of the initial plan, Bryan Fuller stated: "No, it naturally evolved because I guess I was absorbing so much of Mads and Hugh's performance, which felt like it was growing in intimacy, and it would have been inauthentic not to address it. Because all of these characters, and particularly Bedelia, was able to call out what she had witnessed [between Hannibal and Will], it seemed like a natural conclusion. I remember when I turned in the rewrite pages where Will asks Bedelia if Hannibal is in love with him, I got a note from Don Mancini, one of our writers who was always pushing for more homosexual text – not just context or subtext but text, text, text – and he was like, "I'm so glad you put that in there! They said it! They said it!" http://www.digitalspy.com/tv/hannibal/interviews/a667077/hannibal-bryan-fuller-talks-season-4-sexual-fluidity-and-how-will-became-clarice-starling/

Discussing what motivated him to verbally acknowledge the romance between Will and Hannibal, Fuller mentioned: "It felt like we had to s–t or get off the pot, ultimately, because there had been so much going on between these two men that when Will asks, "Is Hannibal Lecter in love with me?" it is very much about death and the romance between these two men. There is a quality to connections that go above and beyond sexuality. You can have this intimate connection with somebody that then causes you to wonder where the lines of your own sexuality are. And we didn't quite broach the sexuality. It was certainly suggested, but the love is absolutely on the table." http://tvline.com/2015/08/29/hannibal-series-finale-will-lecter-cliff-bryan-fuller-interview-season-4/

Remembering how the song for the finale of the series was created, Fuller said: "It was interesting. She [Siouxsie Sioux] was like, "I want to write this song, and what are the things I should really be thinking about?" And I was like, "this is a love story. A love story between a full-fledged psychopath and someone who has nascent psychopathic abilities." Actually, Hannibal Lecter is not a psychopath; he's something else entirely. But it's a love relationship between two men: one of them is a cannibal, and one of them understands those cannibalistic instincts all too well." http://uproxx.com/sepinwall/hannibal-creator-i-wanted-to-be-sure-we-had-an-ending-for-the-story/

Bryan Fuller: "Clarice never, until the end of Hannibal, submitted to that romance, whereas Will seemed to be on a slippery slope right from the beginning, so there's a contrast to be drawn between them." http://www.digitalspy.com/tv/hannibal/interviews/a667077/hannibal-bryan-fuller-talks-season-4-sexual-fluidity-and-how-will-became-clarice-starling/

Bryan in the commentary: "“After killing Francis Dolarhyde with Hannibal Lecter, he realizes this is exactly what Hannibal Lecter has wanted all along. He has wanted a partner in crime - a murder husband, as it were - and the sad truth of it all is that Hannibal was right. Will did enjoy it. Will thought it was a beautiful, powerful thing." https://omnisexualhanniballecter.tumblr.com/post/134099645797/after-killing-francis-dolarhyde-with-hannibal

Hugh during PaleyFest 2014 (prior to S3): "They are in love or they love each other, that's unquestionable. I think it's a platonic love... but it's rich in... (audience and cast laughs) Ok, we've done two seasons so far... so platonic love and they recognize each other as unique in the world, they reflect each other in a way, it's like profound recognition and relief that comes with it. And they are good looking guys." Mads agrees: "Exactly. Losing him or what Hannibal did with him in the two seasons is probably the closest he has ever been to loving anyone. And what love means in his universe we have to see later on. But it's heartbreaking everything that happens to poor Will is also heartbreaking for Hannibal."

Hugh: You could say that during the second half [of season three]-I mean, obviously we’re jumping ahead here, but Will comes back to Hannibal. He’s now got this family, and Will, independently and pretty quickly, starts coming to the conclusion that it’s not sustainable for him to have that family. Like, he’s not the guy. He’s not the right person to be able to look after them, to live with them. It’s not compatible with who he really is. And you could argue that Hannibal is just driving him more quickly to come to that realization. So in that sense, it is kind of brutal, tough love. His love is saying, “Know thyself.” Mads: As Hugh is saying, it’s unavoidable. It’s going to happen sooner or later. Might as well happen sooner, before he’s stuck. [Interview http://oh-dr-lecter.tumblr.com/post/129331180920/theyll-say-were-in-love-fangoria-august-2015]

Mads Mikkelsen on ‘Which scene has been the defining moment?'

"Probably one of the moments early on, maybe mid first season, where I spend some quality time in therapy session with Hugh and he’s flying away thinking about something and I have the chance, Hannibal has the chance, to watch him. And he becomes very warm watching him. He sees not only this brilliant person but he sees something he loves. I think that is the definition of Hannibal." [https://twitter.com/noforts/status/1071952333221888000]

Bryan and Hugh discussing Will's motivation in TWOTL at the cliff and beyond (in the commentary to S3):

Hugh: The point was that it wasn't the horror that drove Will to do this, the horror was secondary, it was a horror in reaction to how much he loved what happened between him and Hannibal. We have seen so many moments of Will is covered in blood and shaking and horrified and this moment he suddenly realizes it is his true self.

Bryan: I remember the day you shot the closeups, you both came running to me and I remember Mads was particularly giddy, giddy as a schoolgirl, he said we really went for it, we really went for the love story, we almost kissed and it's all there and you can use it.

Hugh: We had to push in that direction so that there is no point pretending otherwise.

About Bedelia's leg:

Bryan: The false interpretation is she cut her leg which is a crazier version of Bedelia than I understand. Of course the intention is they survived and there are three place settings."

Hugh, answering the question what is happening to Will and Hannibal now: "Let's just say they're on a beach somewhere. [Interviewer] Just chilling on a beach? [Dancy] Yeah, just chilling on a beach. Drinking something out of a coconut."

Also, the reports from people who visited one of the cons mentioned the following."Today at Red Dragon Con it was announced by Mads that Hannibal and Will are now married, have dogs which he calls “the ugly carpets” of the relationship, and live in seclusion for 4 years before hunting together." Regardless of whether it is going to come to fruition or not, this is how Mads imagines Will and Hannibal's life Post Fall.

Mads in May 2018:

"“I think that Hannibal and Will… they’re not really alive without each other. They are a piece of the puzzle for the other one’s soul.”

A great video where Mads talks about Hannibal and his feelings in S2 final.

Question: Was Hannibal suspicious of Will before he smelled Freddie Lounds or was he completely clueless about it at that point?

Mads: Hannibal doesn't have a masterplan. He's living from day to day and he's seeing possibilities and opportunities, and one of them is Will Graham, who he is obviously in love with, in a certain way - that way. But I think at that time, Hannibal has been blinded by Will Graham. He believes truly that he will walk down the path with the light, hand in hand, with Will - and Abigail. That's his dream, that's what he wants, and I think it does surprise him and it does break his heart. It is a turning point for Hannibal when he becomes the cleaning man instead of the man who loves. Until then, he'd been a man full of love, and after that, I think he is... slightly angry. It was a surprise for him. He was tricked.He got blinded by love.

Interesting interview bit:

IGN: Reba’s final scene was another where you got to really pull direct quotes from the book. But here, I was reading it as Will can also be projecting about himself, as he talks about what it might be like to have a serial killer in love with you. Was that in your mind too, given you had these great quotes from the book but that it could definitely be maybe be a bit more of an echo here, given the situation.?

Fuller: Oh, absolutely. It was a great synchronicity of events where everything that Will was saying to Reba in the novel actually applies to Will Graham in the television series. So there was the want of seeing that scene because I haven’t seen it in any of the adaptations where we get to see Reba, post all of this, and have a quiet moment between the two people who were in love with serial killers.

Bryan: "My ship is canon" (https://twitter.com/BryanFuller/status/1072599788581998593)

Bryan about Will and Hannibal's relationship: "Will accepts who Hannibal is. It’s also narcissistic, in the way that we fall in love with people who make us feel better about ourselves and who make us feel like we’re a better version of ourselves. That makes us feel more secure in our bodies, in the dysmorphia of who you are on the inside versus who you project on the outside. That disconnect narrows dramatically when somebody sees you, understands you, accepts you and loves you. It’s transcendent." (http://collider.com/bryan-fuller-hannibal-silence-of-the-lambs-interview/)

Bryan about Will's reasons for jumping, surviving, and attacking Bedelia with Hannibal: "I think one of the reasons it seemed so organic for Will to go over the cliff with Hannibal at the end was that, in his mind, as he understood the universe in his world, he had peaked. It’s also stopping a monster and stopping himself from becoming a monster, but I think part of him was thinking, “That was beautiful. I don’t think I can do that again and feel as high as I do now.” Everything overwhelmed him and he went over that cliff because there was an apex to his experience, in a way that was poetic and dramatic. ... The kind of suicide where somebody jumps off a bridge, part of them hopes they survive and part of them wants to be over. I think a lot of people are hoping for some percentage of survival that may change them because they’re looking for change within themselves. So, I think there was some bit of that. For the ending with Gillian [Anderson], there are two place settings for a reason." (http://collider.com/bryan-fuller-hannibal-silence-of-the-lambs-interview/)

Bryan about Will and Hannibal's relationship in S1: The relationship between Will and Hannibal in this first season is the seduction. It is Hannibal Lecter recognizing in Will Graham for the first time in anyone that he has ever encountered in his life the opportunity for a friendship, a real friendship, because he sees something in Will Graham that he also sees in himself. They are both unique in their crazy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzU7O7Q0R5U)

Hugh about the start of Will and Hannibal's relationship: "It’s an instant love between them, it is as if Will met not the best chess player in the world, but the only absolute, the only person he can play with, that enters in the room - or rather, in his life - with a chessboard in hand, and this provokes in him a pleasure and an incredible relief. When we find Will at the beginning of the second season, he was betrayed and thrown in jail, so he is not in a really enviable situation, but the connection he had with Hannibal has remained unchanged, it is something which he can not get rid of. This time, however, he manipulates their connection because Hannibal still needs him and their friendship, but beyond the practical utility must be said that the bond with Hannibal is, even for Will, a source of uncontrolled, involuntary pleasure.”

Mads about the start of relationship: "Hannibal sees an opportunity in this young man. And so he can hopefully, one day, walk hand in hand down the road of life." https://k-s-morgan.tumblr.com/post/187266698258/hannibal-sees-an-opportunity-in-this-young-man

Mads during S1: "When he sees Will, he recognizes himself to a degree. [Hannibal] has empathy, but [he] uses it as a tool; Will has empathy, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. Lecter sees an opportunity to open this man’s eyes and see his full potential realized. And he also sees the opportunity for a friend, which is probably not what he’s had too many of. Even though Hannibal is the puppeteer, he really loves Will." https://screencrush.com/hannibal-lunch-preview/?utm_source=tsmclip&utm_medium=referral

Bryan: "The tricky thing with this show is that it is a story about two men and their relationship. But if it were just about male point of views, it wouldn’t be interesting. I feel like we haven’t done as good of a job, in Season 2, of representing the female characters and their point of view of the world. I think there’s a greater opportunity in Season 3 to do that, and do more of that. In Season 2, we knew the story was about these two guys, and everybody else around them were pawns. Jack Crawford was a pawn. Alana Bloom was a pawn. It was all about what was between Hannibal and Will Graham." https://collider.com/hannibal-season-3-details-filming-europe/

Bryan about S4: I'm still hoping for more Murder Husband adventures!

source: https://www.reddit.com/r/HannibalTV/comments/72bk89/the_story_of_how_hannigram_became_canon_to_those/

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angelstrenchcoat-67 · 5 years

Text

Leather, Lace and Lullabies

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: A lot of angst

Series Summary: After many years of hunting and stopping the Apocalypse more than once, the chances of something surprising you are pretty low. Until Castiel and Jack reveal something that you never thought you’d hear.

Part 7

“Can I come in?” Sam’s soft voice pulls me out of the daydream I was having, my heart clenching at how similar their voices are. I just nod, not having enough energy to even speak up. “I have a lead”

“Like the others we’ve been having for the last month that lead to nothing?” My voice sounds raspy and broken, the words getting stuck at the back of my throat.

“I know that luck hasn’t been in our favor but we have to follow every tip we get” Sam sits beside me on the bed, his hand coming up to rest over my bump. “We can’t give up”

“We can’t keep lying to ourselves, Sam” I bring one hand up to catch the tear that spills down my cheek. “You know why we haven’t been able to find him, you know what’s happening”

“I refuse to accept that, Y/N” Sam pulls his hand away to run it through his hair. “It just can’t be”

“Do you think I like the idea?” I sit up, my voice getting angrier by the second. “Don’t you think that I’ve been running my mind, going crazy over the thought of Michael taking possession again over Dean? How many times I’ve wished for Dean to be dead instead of being trapped inside his own body without having any control whatsoever of his actions? Trust me, I don’t like the idea as much as the next person but it’s the truth. There is no trace of him, no body for us to think that he died, and we both know that if something had killed him, whoever did it would have probably rubbed it in our faces”

Sam doesn’t bother answering me, instead he just storms out of the room, leaving me once again alone with my thoughts and tears.

I wasn’t lying when I said I would rather have Dean die than spend another minute under the control of Michael. I’ve been what it does to Dean, he isn’t exactly the most self-loving person and Michael hasn’t exactly helped with the situation.

I sigh as I stand up, Dean’s flannel falling loose around my frame, hidding the tiny bump that defines my body. Lately this is all I wear, the scent of Dean still fresh off his clothes is the only thing that helps me sleep at night since his empty side of the bed only keeps my mind running.

I find Jack in the middle of the war room, his eyes fixed on the computer screen but when he finally looks up, his eyes become more soft, his face dropping a little. “Sam’s-“

“I know” I give him a small smile, running my hand through his back as I pass him by.

My feet drag me across the bunker until I’m standing at the door of the garage. It’s faint but I can hear it, it’s a sound so filled with pain and desperation that I’m way to familiar with.

I climb into the side of the impala, Sam’s soft whimpers stopping as the banging of the door echoes through the big room. I bring my eyes up to his red puffy ones, finding a gaze so tortured, a lump in my throat forms. “I’m sorry”

“You are right” He manages to speak with his broken voice. “I’m just in denial, but you are right”

“But I shouldn’t have said it that way” I look through the window at the wheels of one of the old cars parked nearby. “It was hard for me to realize it, and I’m still having problems accepting it so I shouldn’t give you crap for not wanting to think about it”

“It’s just” He sighs, letting his head fall back, his long hair tucked behind his ears. “I’ve seen what Michael does to Dean, what not being in control of his own body does to him”

He runs his hand through his hair, the poor thing suffering the consequences of Sam’s stress. “And I know he is fighting and we owe it to him to find him and get him back”

“What if he isn’t? What if he already gave up?” My voice is the one that breaks now.

“He wouldn’t just give up” Sam shakes his head. “Not when he has you and the baby. That’s more that enough reason for him to keep fighting”

“I’m scared Sam” The sob I was trying to hold back finally scapes my lips.

“Hey hey” Sam turns his body to me, his hand reaching for mine. “We are gonna find him, I promise”

“What happens if we don’t?” I find myself reaching for my bump. “I don’t know how to raise a baby on my own. How am I supposed to do this alone? I need him. And not just because of the baby. He is my person, he is the one that puts up with my shit and he loves me no matter how bad I make his favorite pie. He loves me and I love him and I cannot fathom the idea of living a life where he is not mine”

“We are gonna find him, we are not gonna give up. And.. and if we can’t” He struggles with the words, a world without his big brother coming up in his mind. “Then you won’t be alone either. You’ll have Jack and Cas, and you will always have me. And you’ll always have your love for him. Michael can’t take that”

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around” I laugh, bringing the tip of my fingers up to my eyes to dry the rolling tears. “Thanks Sam, I know I can be a pain in the ass but you are my brother and you’ve been so helpful and I know that I’m not only missing my boyfriend, you are missing your brother. And you have remain strong for both of us”

“C’mere” Sam pulls at my arm to wrap his arms around me, tucking my head under his chin. “I will always have your back and I will always be the best uncle I can be to bean”

Sam has been calling the baby bean for a while now and I find it funny how similar it sounds to Dean. “You are a reason, too”

“What?” I can feel his words rumbling next to my face.

“You said the baby and I were reasons for Dean to keep fighting” I squeeze him harder into my hug. “You are a reason, too. You’ll always be a reason for Dean”

———

“Are you still gonna ignore me?” Dean raises his eyebrow at me as he does the last stitch, closing the wound on my arm.

“Are you still gonna treat my like a child?” I huff, my eyes still focused on the chair in front of me.

“I saved you” He protests, bitting the inside of his cheek as he covers the wound completely. “You should be thanking me instead of giving me the cold shoulder”

“I had it under control” I grunt, standing up to take a couple of steps away from Dean. “It’s not like it was my first hunt”

“But it was your first encounter with a wendigo” Dean chuckles as he removes his shirt, revealing a oozing wound on his chest. “Shit”

“I’ve been studying these creatures for years, Dean” I move my eyes to the ceiling, my cheeks catching a red tint over the uncovered chest in front of me.

“Knowing the theory is not the same as actually knowing the practice” He tries to clean the marks but the angle where they are makes it a little impossible.

“Here, let me do it” I grab the cotton from his hand, pouring some alcohol on it. “Sit”

Dean knows better than to protest, instead pulls the chair nearby and sits so now I’m just a bit taller than him. When the cotton makes contact with the skin, his hand grabs purchase of my thigh, squeezing hard as a hiss leaves his lips. “You should’ve warned me”

“It’s cotton and alcohol” I squint my eyes, making sure I clean the wound completely. “What were you expecting?”

“Okay, you can drop the sass” He rolls his eyes so I press the cotton a little harder.

“Oops” I smile as I pull back, reaching for the antibacterial cream. “It wasn’t my intention”

“Hell it wasn’t” He growls, dropping his hand from my thigh but the warmth of his touch still present over my skin.

“I won’t do it again, I promise” I start covering the gash with the white ointment, making sure I don’t dig into his skin. We stay in silent as I keep spreading the cream over his skin, only a few grunts echoing through the room. “Why did you do it?”

“What?” He looks up at me, those green orbs capturing me in his stare.

“Why did you push me aside?” I ask him, reaching for the big patch to lay over his wound.

“I-I” He stutters, moving his eyes to the lightbulb instead of my eyes.

“Tell me”

“I, mmm, I just” He breaths, his eyes moving back to catch mine. “I guess I got scared”

“Why?” I know he doesn’t want to talk about it since he tenses at my question.

“I, I didn’t want you to get hurt” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple catching my gaze before I return it to the job my hands are doing. “I always worry that something is gonna happen to you and I don’t think I would be able to forgive myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it from happening”

My heart is beating hard against my chest, my hands shaking as I place the last piece of patch. “And what do you think I feel when I see you fighting all of those things, when the jump at you? I’m worried there’s gonna be time where you won’t be able to fight them off”

“You worry about me?” His voice comes out soft, catching my attention as I throw the used cottons to the trash can.

“More than I would like to admit” I whisper, meeting that green spell that hides between his eyes. “I can’t help it”

“Do you worry about Sam, too? Or Jack or Cas?” His voice comes out hoarse, almost like he is begging.

“Yes” I mutter, his face falling a bit. “But it’s a different kind of worry”

“Different how?” He asks, his face a little more brighter now.

“Like, if something happens to them, I’m gonna lose a brother” It’s my turn for my voice to break, suddenly feeling really shy under his gaze.

“And with me? If something happens to me, what are you gonna miss?” He stands up, closing the distance between us until I have my back pressed against the edge of a table.

“I...” I place my hand over his pecs, trying to steady myself. “I don’t know”

“Then figure it out” He whispers against my lips before grabbing me by my neck to join our mouths in a kiss the knocks all the air out of my lungs.

His lips are so soft yet so demanding against mine, almost like he is punishing me but asking me for forgiveness all at once. I mold against his chest, my hands moving up to his face to keep him as close to me as possible.

Dean suddenly stops the kiss, pulling his face back just enough for our eyes meet. I can read what his thinking, I can see his brain going a million miles as he figures out my reaction. But I stop his mind, pulling him down for another numbing kiss.

———

The rain is hard today, slamming with anger against the roof of the bunker. My ears are ringing as I feel how hard my heart is pumping the blood across my body.

It’s the first storm we’ve had since Dean disappeared so I’m not ready when the thunders start rumbling through the sky. Moments like this is when I need him the most, even when he is just snoring next to me, that helps me more than the quiet and coldness of the room.

I close my eyes as I dig my face into his pillow, taking a big inhale, his scent covering all of me. An idea pops into my head, and before I can even have time to really think it through, I’m already on my knees next to the bed.

“Dean?” It comes out so low, the rain muffles it into the background. “I know you are not an angel, but I figured since you are being possessed by one, you might be able to hear me”

Another thunder breaks into the night, making me jump. “Fuck! Oh shit, I shouldn’t be cursing while praying. Sorry!”

If God listens to all the prayers, he is gonna be really disappointed in me right now. “Okay... Dean, I don’t know if you are listening but... I love you. I miss you. I miss your touch over my belly or how you rub back when I too busy throwing up every morning”

“I miss you singing 'Hey, Jude' to my belly when I’m trying to fall sleep. I miss your yelling when you see me doing something that might be risky, even if it is just holding a fork while going upstairs”

“I just” I try to speak over my tears. “I just miss you so much and your scent is starting to wear off from your clothes and the bed and the pillow and I don’t know how long I can do this for”

“I don’t know how long I can live a life where you are not in it and I don’t want to have to figure it out. I want you here, giving me shit for eating all the nutella, I want you here trying to convince me to name the kid Cherry Pie or some weird thing”

“Promise me you’ll keep fighting and I promise you I will keep looking for you” I breath for a couple of seconds, trying to relax my heartbeat before speaking again. “I love you. We love you”

I move back to the bed, the rain becoming less violent, now more like soft taps over the ceiling. I undo a couple of buttons on Dean’s shirt until I can see my bump. “Hey, bean”

I start drawing lines across my stomach. “I know the last month has been hard, I know that you miss your daddy, I do too. But I promise you that we will find him”

“I promise you he will be here to watch you come into the world, he will be here to change your first diaper, he will be here to hear your first word, he will be here to catch you as you try to take your first steps”

“He will teach you how to ride a bike, he will give you candy even when I make it clear that you can’t. He will be here to watch you braid uncle Sammy’s hair. He will teach you how to play baseball even though he sucks at it, he will play for you all the scooby doo’d episode he can download illegally from the internet”

“The point is, little bean, you are gonna have the best daddy in the world who is gonna love you above all. A dad that will teach you how to be the most badass woman the world has seen and I’m so luck to be able to give you such a father”

“I promise you, I’ll bring him to you” I place my hand flat against my bump, my heartbeat now steady as the rain dies down. “I promise you”

There’s soft and small movement under my touch, and for a second I think I imagined it until I feel it again. I feel the warm tears running down my cheeks as I feel my baby’s first moves in my belly, making herself present.

I wish I could reach for Dean’s hand so he could feel it, too. I would watch his shocked face as he feels her little baby wiggling around my stomach. But I can’t. I have to settle for my hand covered with his flannel.

There’s a soft knock on the door before Cas’s head pops behind it. “Y/N?”

“Yes?” I ask, bringing my hands up to dry my face.

“I could hear you crying” He mutters, shy to admit it. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get Sam?”

“No, it’s okay” I lean over the bedside table to turn the light on. “It’s just the baby”

“What happened? Do you want me to check on her?” He walks fast into the room, reaching my side in no time.

“No, she just moved” I grin, grabbing his hand to place it over the place the baby was wiggling around. “Here, feel”

“Wha-“ He stops as little bean moves again, catching him off guard. “Is this normal?”

“It is” I giggle, my head moving at the sudden movement near the door.

“Is everything okay?” Jack asks, stepping into the room to come closer.

“Do you want go to feel the baby?” I ask him.

“I- That sound extremely personal and weird” He frowns as Cas pulls his hand away.

“It’s not like that, Jack” I laugh and then Cas steps out of the room, not muttering a word. “Go ahead”

He stares at me, waiting for a protest before settling his hand over the spot I tell him. “I don’t know if she is gonna move again, I hope she does”

“How does it feel like?” But then she moves again. “Oh”

“See?” I smile as Sam runs into the room, Cas following him with a sad smile on his face. I know what he is thinking, Dean should be here, too.

“She is moving?” Sam asks me, eyes fixed over my belly as Jack has his head pressed to it.

“A lot” I giggle when Sam coughs so Jack pulls away, a ref shade covering his cheeks.

“Are you gonna move for uncle Sam?” Sam speaks to bean, settling his big hands over my skin. A couple of seconds go by and nothing. “Maybe she got tired”

“Give her some time” I place my hand next to his. “She has been going at it hard”

“She prob-“ And then there it is again. Sam’s eyes open wide before they turn glassy as they search for mine. “She is moving”

“Mhm” I smile at him as the two other boys try to get their hands over my skin to feel again.

I close my eyes, taking the moment in and promising myself now, we will find Dean.

———————————————————————

I’m so sorry it’s so late! I just was not feeling anything that I was writing and when I finally did, tumblr erased it so I had to start again but I like this better! Sorry for any spelling errors, I’ll fix that later.

Also, I know michael!dean is over but I had this idea before it was over so just imagine it was during that time.

General Tag List: @waywardwboys @fallenangelsneverfade @eternallyanxiousandstressed @mypassionsarenysins @thesoundofme @franchisefan14 @hazzastyyless @caswinchester2000 @bitchfacesammy @too-involved

Leather, Lace and Lullabies Tag List: @clarinette07 @xenwayy @alyssa6marie @siriuslyimmortal @cassburger215 @sailorsolar12 @loveway4presidentus @a--1--1--3 @caryswhogoesbothways @monkeymcpoopoo @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @tryn25 @clockwork124 @frozenhuntress67

#dean fanfiction #dean angst #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean fluff #dean winchester blurb #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #desn winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural

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morganas-pendragons · 5 years

Text

Contrition | D.W.

This is for @connorshero writing challenge, congrats on your plethora of followers Sadie! I think this might be my first writing challenge I’ve ever done, but I was so heartbroken over Prophet and Loss that I couldn’t not write something for it.

“He’s done a lot of unforgivable things, but keeping this secret about his plan to silence Michael? It might just be the end for the two of you.”

Set during s14 | Prompt: “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

this is the longest supernatural fiction I’ve ever written, so most of it is under the cut!

<><><><><><><><><>

It had been your dream from a rather young age to grow up and get married, to be the woman your mother had raised you to be. That was it. You weren’t even remotely concerned about kids or a stable job, a house you’d live in until they dug your grave… nothing. You just wanted a future with the man you were meant to love. And it wasn’t until you were nearly twenty five that the man in question came banging down your door with a shotgun that contained salt-rounds, and blasted the ghost of your brother straight to Hell.

That man introduced himself to be Dean. Dean Winchester - Self destructive, self-loathing and 6’2 hunk of man who seemed to substitute flannels as a second layer of skin. He was everything you had ever desired.

And everything you dreaded.

“Kid,” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, dripping wet from your cleansing shower after the most recent Wendigo hunt. He is all tremors and gasping breaths from where he stands by the front door of the motel room, green eyes dilating at the sight of you. “I don’t know how much longer I can control myself if you keep playing these games with me.”

“There’s no more games to play if you take the opportunity to seize the prize, Dean.”

He had seized you that same night with broken whispers and silenced kisses. Swallowed the cries of his name with his mouth, mapped the canvas of your body with the same hands he’d used to take the lives of the monsters he hunted. You were his desire - the love he had craved since the day his mother had burned on the ceiling of his home in Lawrence.

And from that point you had said yes to his incessant pleas to take you on a date, Dean Winchester was glued to your side. You went on hunts together, you lived together in the same room at the Bunker, you watched his back and he watched yours. Sam often gagged at how love-sick his older brother appeared to be with you, but he was secretly elated. If anyone deserved the perfect ending with the woman he loved, after all he had endured and sacrificed to get here.. it was Dean.

Unfortunately for the Winchesters, there never is a perfect ending.

After Michael had ‘’willingly’’ left Dean and seemingly disappeared for a time, that nagging thought in the back of your mind dissipated into silence. That ever-so-consistent whisper of, “Where on Earth did he go?” Part of you believed pieces of the Archangel remained when you saw Dean doze off in the midst of research, frantically blinking as if he were trying to pull himself out of the haze that had settled in his mind.

He promised he was better. Slept soundly at your side through the night, woke up the next morning and made you fresh coffee from the first sight of sun up. Made advancements, joked about your sex life and how jealous he was of your relationship with Sammy (who, by the way, was practically your best friend outside of his brother.) The two of you talked about marriage and the future and everything he wanted for the two of you and your imaginary family. He seemed so Dean that you didn’t anticipate Michael taking control of him again without a fight from Dean.

And just like you anticipated, your boyfriend was dragged back under into the murk, lips poised in a silent scream — one of a man that begged to be saved — as you helplessly watched him disappear before your very eyes.

So when Sam and Castiel managed to pull him out of the dream sequence Michael had trapped him in, you were expecting the worst. You were expecting a different man to emerge from the depths of his tortured, scarred mind - and he was. He was so traumatized having to go through his daily routine with a screaming Archangel trapped inside of his head. Dean was desperate and in need of a solution, so he left the Bunker without you and ventured to creating the Malec Box.

Otherwise known as the nail in the coffin of your relationship.

When Sam had called you and informed you of his plan after they’d left Donna’s cabin and traveled to the nursing home Donatello was in, you had left the Bunker without a second thought and bolted for your car - A 1970 Chevy Mustang - and pressed the gas pedal to the floor until you arrived in Lebanon and found the Impala parked in the corner of the lot.

“Okay Y/N. They’re still in there.” You muttered to yourself as you slammed the drivers door and moved toward Baby, hands wound through your hair as you attempted to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of confronting Dean. “Compose yourself.”

There was only one problem to that. You couldn’t. You couldn’t sit here and tell yourself that everything would be okay after this charade, because the truth of the matter was this: Dean had the intentions to completely disregard you, Jack and Cas; He’d remain set on his intention to throw himself in the ocean and not think about how everyone else would cope with his loss. Losing him again after all you’d been through together wouldn’t just be something else to cope with. It would wreck you.

Because you’d waited your whole life for him to come along, and just as quickly as you’d taken his hand, he’d been lost to you. And you were so very, very tired of losing.

Sam emerged not too long after your arrival and frowned at the sight of you pacing in front of the Impala. He had dually anticipated this to be your reaction to Deans plan, but he hadn’t actually expected you to outright confront him about it. The younger Winchester dug his hands into his pockets and feigned a smile, hoping it would convey some type of comfort. Instead he found himself completely caught off guard when you rushed forward and embraced him tightly, pulling him down to your level as he stood a considerable amount taller than you.

“I’m sorry about this, Sam.” You whispered in his ear. Sam pressed his lips together and hid his face in the crook of your neck, fisting the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back. The two of you had been best friends since the day Dean had brought you home, and he was one of two people who always cheered you on. Sam was your heart, and Dean was your home. ‘’For everything that’s happened.. sweetheart-“

“Y/N,” He murmured in reply, desperate to hide the crack in his voice as the two of you pulled apart to gaze at the other. “Please don’t. I can’t take anything else.” At this stage in the plan and the utter ignorance on Deans part to consider the points of other people, you weren’t surprised. These brothers had lost each other more then enough times since you’d met them, but this one would take the cake. “I know you only have his best intentions. Say your piece.”

Your gaze hardened when you peered around Sams towering form to see Dean emerge from the nursing home. The moment his eyes locked with yours was when everything slowed down, and you suddenly found yourself pulled into a memory very early on in your relationship. The one where the two of you were alone, without help, and on the brink of being found by a group of vicious demons on the hunt for you both. The same hunt where he’d told you that one day, despite how you cared for one another, you’d either make him or break him. That your presence in his life made him crave that apple pie life he wasn’t destined to have, and being so hopelessly in love with you gave him hope for that future.

Make him or break him, Y/N.

So you lunged forward and swung your fist into the curve of his jaw so hard that he stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned by your rage as he scrambled to stay upright. “You pompous, arrogant, son of a-“ Propelling yourself from your spot, you threw him off his feet only to land rather hard against the concrete where you could straddle his lap and beat the daylights out of him. “Did you even think about me when you concocted your preposterous, suicidal plan? Is that the definition of you, Dean Winchester? Handsome and compassionate with a dash of self-destruction?!”

Dean considered fighting back, but the longer he watched the rage flow through your eyes, the more he realized that he deserved every single beating you delivered to him. He didn’t care if he were to wake up with broken bones and sore muscles the next morning, because the truth of the matter was that he had considered you. You, the one woman he’d been searching for since Mary had burnt on the ceiling. The woman he dreamt of falling in love with as a little boy and sought out his entire childhood and teenage years, only to rescue her from her vengeful brother years later. It wasn’t hard for him to fall in love with you when you were everything he’d been searching for.

The one woman who didn’t deserve to see her boyfriend throw himself into oblivion. It would be better for you, adapting to a life without him. You could get out of hunting, be happy-

“Y/N-“ His hand shot up and pinned yours against your stomach rather tightly, to which you thrashed in his grasp as he stood to his feet. “Sweetheart, you gotta stop. I know you’re mad-“

“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe it, Dean!”

Dean hung his head and released your hands. There wasn’t a way to build himself up with his plan to subdue Michael, and you knew it. He was out of ways to convince you that this was better, that this was rational - but then he saw your eyes and the tears you were trying so hard to blink away, and a piece of his resolve crumbled.

“This is the only card I have left, Y/N. I have to play it.”

“You have one card to play today, Dean! But we can find another tomorrow!” You balled your hands at your sides and slowly exhaled through your nose. You couldn’t bear to look him in the face during your most vulnerable moment. “And you keep pushing me away, acting like it’s going to be better when you get to the bottom of the ocean and you are so utterly alone-“ His breath catches in his throat when you grip the lapels of his jacket and pull him chest to chest with yourself, just close enough that he can feel the shudder of your breath. He can feel the pounding of your heart and taste the salt of your tears and for one moment, he allows himself to be with you because this might be the last chance he has to do so. “And you’re dreaming of me. Dreaming of all those people you left behind and how utterly guilty you feel for leaving them. Do you wanna know my response to that?”

“Not really.” He whispered, trembling hands drifting upward to sink deep into your hair. “But I think you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

“I think our relationship is built on secrets. Secrets and tragedy and so much guilt.. I don’t know how we can make it to the other side of this.” Deans forehead slowly rested against yours and allowed you to continue. “You’re killing yourself, Dean. I can’t be here to witness it.”

“So this is it?” It’s a question, one he’s been dreading hearing the answer to, and he can’t help the way his voice breaks when he asks it.

“This is the end.”

That is all the confirmation he needs to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and Dean does everything to convey just how much you mean to him in the midst of clashing tongue and teeth. Wandering hands set every nerve in your body on fire, and for a single minute, you realize how much you will miss him. How he kisses you like his life depends on it, like he is addicted and you are the drug he craves. When he smiles and you see every individual crows line around his eyes, and how his smile was powerful enough to make your knees weak. How utterly vulnerable and broken he was around you when nobody else was around, how he wished to save the world even with no reward waiting for him.

“I love you.” You whispered, mustering all your strength to fully pry yourself away from him. “If you make it to the other side of this, maybe I’ll see you again. If you don’t…” Your voice faltered as you dug your hands into your pockets. The air around you suddenly seemed a lot colder then it had been when you arrived. “Rest in peace, Dean Winchester.”

Dean and Sam both watched you venture into the dark and slip inside your Mustang, completely veiled from their sight. It was only when the headlights blared against Baby and the gentle thrum of the engine echoed in the night that they knew you were leaving. They watched helplessly as you curved around the Impala and tore down the main road toward the Bunker, disappearing from their sight.

“I gotta go after her.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

The engagement ring in his pocket and the guilt festering deep within tells him that he didn’t.

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean x You #Supernatural oneshots #Supernatural imagines #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural fanfiction #sadies1.6kwc #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x you

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poorreputation · 5 years

Text

SPN 1X02 Wendigo Retrospective Meta

Tagging: @emblue-sparks @metafest @verobatto-angelxhunter @evvvissticante @dea-stiel @sudo-apt-get-destiel @wildligia

Summary (via IMDB) Sam and Dean make a stop at Blackwater Ridge and end up helping a young woman and her brother find their other brother, who mysteriously disappeared, while on a camping trip, in the woods.

Teleplay by: Eric Kripke

Story by: Ron Milbauer and Terri Hughes Burton

Directed by: David Nutter

Post under the cut:

Episode Notes:

Our first Then-Now segment.

November 2, 1983- This, combined with Jess' tragic death, establishes it's been 22 years between the Winchester's lives being ruined by fires. The Pilot, oddly enough, didn't make the significance of the dates clear. I chock it up to the Pilot having so many drafts. that some plot relevant stuff got lost in the shuffle.

And, now our title card has sound! The first time we see SPN's logo, it's completely silent. Again, constant tweaks between episodes.

Blackwater Ridge

Lost Creek, Colorado

We open on 3 people camping, as one dude calls his sister Haley to deliver exposition.

Of course they're being hunted in the woods, as the camera gives us a monster's eye view.

Haley's brother (still nameless) is reading when one of his friends is attacked. Now, knowing this production crew, there must be some significance to the book he's reading-

-it's Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Who, in this book, wrote of the Hero's Journey.

I- I'm, I can't, Kripke, no. It's only episode 2, slow down. Please. You're getting ahead of yourself.

Gary's fucked. Bye, Gary.

Palo Alto, California

Confirmed, Jess died on 11/2.

Sam expresses grief, and then regret, in not telling Jess the truth, as we're treated to a bad jump scare that only got me the first time.

Dean offering to let Sam drive, to get his mind off of things, asking how Sam's doing. Doesn't buy it when Sam shrugs it off.

To find Jess' killer, they have to find John, who is nowhere to be found.

Connecting the dots already between Mary and Jess.

Blackwater Ridge

Lost Creek, Colorado

A bunch of abandoned gold and silver mines, hmmm...

Haley sounds like a worried older sibling. I'm sure Dean can relate.

Sam assumes Dean wants to get in Haley's pants, while Sam just wants to find John as quickly as possible. Dean notes his brother's change in attitude to "shoot first and ask questions later".

Tommy's his name. Tommy Collins. Alright.

Oof, Haley's really the older sibling. Looks like there's a 2nd brother, too, that she's cooking for. Reminds me of flashbacks of younger Dean, providing for Sam. Haley's very observant, as well, asking for ID and noting Dean's unusual car.

Parents gone, only "two brothers and me", not "us three". Call it clunky writing, or call it Haley identifying herself not as her sibling's equal, but as the one in charge.

Dean connecting with Haley on her urgent need to find Tommy, "I think I know how you feel." At first, one would think he's just referring to John, but everything we've seen thus far from Haley screams as someone searching for a little sibling/feeling parental.

Haley shows Sam and Dean Tommy's last message (recorded on his fucking flip phone. Tommy would be the kind of person to use a go-pro or a selfie stick). Every 23 years. Alright, first off, I love how cryptic the Pilot was about the monster reveal, while here it's just 'Wendigo' in the title. Second, the similarity between the Wendigo and what John's ultimately hunting: a creature killing every 20 or so years. Maybe the slight difference of 22 years vs. 23 made John leave. Or, he figured out it was a Wendigo, and dumped the case on his kids without any heads-up.

Sam and Dean interview a Wendigo survivor from '59, someone who was so young when it happened, no one believed him. It all got swept under the rug as a Grizzly attack.

A little detail I'm noticing now; the Wendigo is vulnerable to fire, that's why it left the kid in '59 alive. The boy had fallen asleep in front of the cabin fireplace. And earlier, the Wendigo, just before killing Tommy's friend, hesitated at the sight of the campfire.

Sam and Dean figuring out the creature has to be corporeal, ruling out spirits and demons as potential culprits, means John probably knew, too. Knowing John's looking for the Yellow Eyed Demon this whole time...

Sam wants to tell Haley the truth to keep her from going into the woods, and Dean counters with this:

Dean: "Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out."

To further my point from before; the focus is on the worry a guardian would have for a dependent. Dean sees John as the man with all the answers. Dean relates to Haley not because his worries over John are equal to Haley's about Tommy, but because he's probably fretted over Sam the same way. An alternative, and equally valid point, though, would be Dean sympathizing with Haley over losing 'Family', as I brought up in 1X01, when Dean insists to Sam he's not only a Hunter, deep down, but a Winchester.

Sam: "Finding Dad's not enough? Now we gotta babysit, too?" (at the idea of Haley coming with them on the Hunt). The glare Dean gives in response to this shows how much Sam is missing the point.

The guy Haley hired is just trying to do his job. I used to be annoyed with him, but with this rewatch, I'm more annoyed at Dean. Dean's the one who insists they can't tell anyone their secret, and yet they (Sam and Dean) could've benefited from cooperating with Haley's group. It makes Dean come across as an arrogant know-it-all who dismisses the help of an expert despite being on such unfamiliar terrain.

We catch up with Tommy, who sees his friend get eaten. That's gonna need some therapy.

Dean starts sizing up the guide Haley hired, Roy, and Dean's doing the whole "Well, has anything ever hunted you back?" shtick. Right as Roy saves Dean's ass from a bear trap.

After Haley confronts Dean (who up to this point has just been giving Roy a hard time), he tells her part of the truth; he and Sam are really brothers, and they're looking for their father. Telling Haley this is the "most honest I've (Dean) been with a woman. Ever."

M&Ms as provisions. Of course, Dean. Only a 26 year old can get away with that.

Roy calls the group over to Tommy's campsite, which is wrecked.

Haley finds Tommy's phone. It must seem like any chance of getting in touch with her brother is gone for good. Dean comes up and assures her Tommy could still be alive. I'm sure Dean's felt this many times with John, especially now.

The Wendigo mimics a man's voice, lures everyone away, and takes the distraction as an opportunity to destroy/steal the group's supplies.

Putting it all together, Sam figures out it's a Wendigo. He tries to talk the group into going back to the cars, not giving the whole truth, and Roy's, rightfully, fed up. Think of it from Roy's perspective; these two actual babies come waltzing in, clearly lying about their government job, almost getting themselves caught in a bear trap, Sam and Dean must seem like a couple of walking disasters.

Poor Roy. Your greatest crime has been using logic.

Now, thiiis, referring to the Wendigo as not only a Hunter, but the perfect Hunter.

Dean: "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy." Dean, you were pulling that shit with Roy, first. "Well, has anything ever hunted you back?" Having all the answers doesn't make you any less of a douche.

Sam and Dean come to the conclusion John has probably never set foot in Lost Creek. I still stand by the idea John checked it out, and then ruled it out. Sam and Dean have so little to go off of, in finding John, they're grasping at straws.

"Saving people, hunting things. The family business." Connecting what the Winchesters do as Hunters, and the Wendigo itself is the perfect Hunter. More on that, later...

Why doesn't John just call, play it to them straight? Because Sam won't listen to John, but he will listen to Dean, who's bought John's philosophy hook, line and sinker. And, John's so obsessed with revenge he sees nothing wrong with this.

The Wendigo once again tries to trick the group.

Bye, Roy.

It's the next day, and everyone left tries to regroup.

Sam and Dean fill Haley and her remaining brother in on Wendigos. Since the only instance of people being up in Lost Creek were miners, I'm guessing the Wendigo was a worker who got lost/trapped in a tunnel collapse with only their fellow miners to keep them company. And fed.

So, Wendigos are creatures who were once people, but give in to cannibalism. They then develop an insatiable hunger, but never turn wild; they're still very much Human.

Hi, Roy. Nice to see you're still hanging around.

Dean and Haley have been kidnapped, who could have ever seen this coming?

Dean's trail of M&Ms leads Sam and Haley's brother to an abandoned mine. Sam and the brother fall through the floor, finding the Wendigo's kitchen. They find Dean, Haley, as well as Tommy.

Dean volunteering himself as bait is tragically typical.

For once, Sam has to look up (at the Wendigo).

Okay, real quick, I appreciate the time and energy it took to make the Wendigo costume. For obvious budgetary reasons, SPN relies on monsters that conveniently look Human, so it's a real treat for the baddie to actually look monstrous.

Haley: "Must you cheapen the moment?" ladies, gents and distinguished individuals, this is Dean propositioning someone without saying a word and using only his facial expressions. People are gonna get confused over the next 14 seasons over Dean not verbalizing he wants to fuck, but I'm happy to say he's been doing it from the start. Bonus points is that Haley instead gives Dean a kiss on the cheek, which seems to fluster Dean, implying he wasn't actually expecting her to respond. Almost like Dean's putting up a front, or something.

Sam takes Dean up on his offer to drive, how sweet.

Post Episode Meta/Notes:

(These were all written during the episode, so if the flow feels weird, that's why. I just want to try sticking meta related stuff at the end)

(After Sam and Dean realize John was never in Lost Creek) Another thing, though, is this shows a similarity between John and Sam; with a 'bigger' hunt in mind, they're willing to let 'smaller' cases pass by. Call it selfish (it kinda is) call it what you will. Now, look at Dean. He may be arrogant, yes, but he can step into someone else's shoes and understand they need help. Haley's just gonna blunder into the Wendigo's clutches, otherwise. This is an example of, despite the separation of time, John and Sam have a lot in common.

(After going into the origins of the Wendigo) A person gives up their Humanity to become the perfect Hunter, but is forever consumed by hunger... for flesh, or revenge?

(After Dean and Haley get kidnapped) OH WAIT I'VE GOT IT ALL WRONG.

Roy is a stand-in for John. Older Hunter that's been at it for as long as Sam's been alive, acting condescendingly towards the younger Hunters, undermining their ability. Dean's giving Roy a hard time because he can't and won't say the same to John's face.

After that whole speech from Dean about all John knows being in his journal, and having that book bestowed upon him and Sam, it started to click for me.

That’s my take on 1X02 Wendigo! Thank you for reading, share your thoughts, and let me know if you wanna be tagged in my next meta on older Supernatural episodes! And, if you’re interested in more content about this particular episode, I have a post on both it and 14X16 Don’t Go in the Woods!

https://poorreputation.tumblr.com/post/183625991916/spn-14x16-dont-go-in-the-woods-meta?is_related_post=1

#SPN #S1 #1X02 #Wendigo #Meta #writers #writing

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eddycurrents · 5 years

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BPRD: Hell on Earth ~ New World - Chapter Five

Story: Mike Mignola & John Arcudi | Art: Guy Davis | Colours: Dave Stewart | Letters: Clem Robins

Originally published by Dark Horse in BPRD: Hell on Earth ~ New World #5 | December 2010

Collected in BPRD: Hell on Earth - Volume 1: New World | BPRD: Hell on Earth Omnibus - Volume 1

Plot Summary:

The tentacle beast tries to eat Abe, while Daimio learns the truth about the tentacle babies.

Reading Notes:

(Note: Pagination is in reference to the chapter itself and is not indicative of anything found in the issue or collections.)

pg. 1 - The Bureau definitely seems to have an attendance and dependability problem.

pg. 2 - Granted, Daimio seems to have a good reason for his absence. Being possessed by the little tentacle beast baby is something that’d give him a pass. I love this art from Guy Davis and Dave Stewart. The layout for the columns is neat and the progression of the tentacle beast’s attempted infiltration of Daimio’s mind is nicely represented through his eyes.

pg. 3-4 - I like that it doesn’t quite explain what we’re seeing here with the death of Nessa’s son and the gestation of tentacle beast twins. It’s going to be answered later on, but here we’re kind of just wondering why Daimio is seeing this.

pg. 5 - The were-jaguar fights back.

pg. 8 - You do really feel sorry for Nessa regarding the loss of her son, it’s never easy to lose a child, but those other two weren’t children, they were tentacle beasts.

pg. 9 - Random dead big tentacle beast. Huh.

pg. 10 - In case you missed it, Mr. Kihnl got crunched in one of the final panels last chapter. Also, is it weird that I find it odd that we never saw inside the casket? Not that we need to see the remains of a child, because that’s kind of creepy, but showing it was Kihnl’s whole deal.

pg. 11 - Tentacle ghosts are creepy.

pg. 12 - I find it interesting that Daimio relating a flashback, as with the creature’s memories, have that wavy, hand-drawn panel border compared to the borderless panels last issue. Although the colours are still bright compared to the normal sequences, the wavy borders give them a different feel from the previous happy ones.

pg. 14 - This is a frightening possibility. What else is out there that hasn’t even registered on the Bureau’s radar?

pg. 16 - This shift in battlefield that Daimio is talking about also resonates in regards to what else this arc has brought up; the bigotry. It’s an idea rather than something physical you can hit, so it’s more difficult to combat.

Also, the reveal of the giant monster behind the graves and the cross just makes Daimio’s previous statement hilarious.

pg. 17 - Devon really is becoming an asshole.

pg. 19 - You’d almost think there’s something in the water making them all turn on one another.

pg. 20 - Although it’s interesting to see that it’s not Devon spying on Abe. That’s it’s Johann, bringing back his nasty obsession about Daimio slicing and dicing his beefcake body. I mean, Daimio’s not exactly an innocent, but somebody should probably smash all of Johann’s containment suits and exorcise his spirit or something before something even worse happens.

pg. 21 - I love the art here. Really makes me miss the Pacific Northwest.

pg. 22 - And despite Daimio being a murderous were-jaguar and Daryl being, well, a wendigo, I like that Abe is still treating both of them as human with decency and respect. It’s good to see the “monsters” sticking together.

Final Thoughts:

So...this is the new battlefield. The end showing how this really is the next front in the Plague of Frogs is a very interesting reveal, that what seemed like a relatively unconnected monster story is integral to what’s going on in the world at large. That it’s not as easy as picking out the giant Ogdru Hem monstrosities already out there and attacking them head on as the Bureau and various world militaries have done previously (not easily, but it’s at least been straightforward). This is more insidious and also seems to have been working well for some time relatively unnoticed, wiping out two towns before anything happened to stop it. If Abe hadn’t have been looking for Daimio and Daryl, who’s to say Nessa and the tentacle beasts wouldn’t have consumed more and more.

It’s just sad that the BPRD are consumed by in-fighting and duplicity in order to do anything about it right now.

d. emerson eddy doesn’t think he’s ever seen a tentacle beast wandering the woods near North Van or up in Whistler either, but who knows about further north? Or the interior. Kelowna and Kamloops may be tentacle beast hotbeds.

#Give 'em Hellboy #Hellboy #BPRD #Hell on Earth #New World #Mike Mignola #John Arcudi #Guy Davis #RaisingHellboy #142

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wndybird · 6 years

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laughter pokes its way across misted eyes, dabbling cheeks with flecks of light. this child, the universe clutched in her palms, refusing to shed a thing.

MEET WENDY darling DARWIN.

OOC.

AUTHOR: ren, 20, est, she / they. CONTACT: my discord is ren 🎃✨#6401, pm me if you want my telegram or kik !!

BASIC.

NAME: wendy darwin

EXPLANATION:

wendy’s decision to cling to her true name was deliberate as an act to reclaim her sense of self , and to exercise some control over her life after the exodus took part of that from her. there’s also the added fact that it’s so much easier than trying to go by another name, which seems like a ridiculous amount of trouble to go through.

darwin was chosen out of ease , as well , being two letters off from her true surname and sounding fairly similar. behind the scenes , i chose it since its meaning is “ dear friend ” and i believed that would reference the supposed origin of wendy’s name well.

NICKNAMES: wen, wendybird, bird, little bird. ( i will sometimes call her wendigo, wendini, and wingdings. ) GENDER: cisfemale SEXUALITY: panromantic pansexual

OCCUPATION:

wendy is a full time student at the fable community college , and also works as a cashier at the local bookshop. she may sometimes take up the occasional odd job as a babysitter , a proofreader for other students , or even a tutor if she’s incredibly strapped for cash , but these are small side things that she only turns to when the going gets really tough.

she left her major as undeclared originally , as she wanted to be able to experience various differing courses , but has recently changed it so that she’s majoring in creative writing and minoring in journalism.

AGE: twenty BIRTH DATE: july 7th ZODIAC: cancer sun, sagittarius moon SECRET LANGUAGE: day , week , month , season , way , & personal path CELTIC ZODIAC: oak ( tree ) , wren ( animal ) BIRTHDAY TAROT: temperance , the hierophant

MAGIC:

wendy is not a magic user , though she will always quietly find herself envious of those who are. it’s possible that her curiosity and desire to be closer to the arcane may lead her into trying to practice , but that remains to be seen. otherwise she tries to function on the belief that magic is not just defined by the arcane , but little , every day things. like your headphones not tangling in your pocket , or your schedule lining up perfectly for the day , things of that nature.

PHYSICAL.

FACECLAIM: kristine froseth HEIGHT: 5’ WEIGHT: 126 lbs HAIR COLOR & STYLE: honey brown , long , wavy. usually kept down , sometimes half up , in a bun , braid , or ponytail. will occasionally do cute things like space buns , braided crowns , etc. EYE COLOR: blueee DOMINANT HAND: left DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: freckles , longass eyelashes , a birthmark on her right thigh , generally looking like a baby deer smh SCARS: she has a few very old , very faded scars across her feet and ankles from running about barefoot on neverland , but you probably wouldn’t notice them unless you were looking for them. PIERCINGS: earlobes TATTOOS: none yet

PERSONALITY.

MBTI: esfj KEIRSEY: guardian — provider ENNEAGRAM: type 2w3

ALIGNMENT & MORALS:

her heart is soft , but it is just. her alignment is lawful good , and she tries to operate on a set of clear , concise morals. her involvement with certain individuals may muddle this , at times , but her conscious is painfully loud and she will always be a voice of reason and a champion of what is right. her crux is that she is sometimes prone to bending too easily , as she still clings to her belief that no one can be all bad.

TRAITS:

( + ) optimistic , intelligent , honest , empathetic , brave , adventurous , friendly

( - ) idealistic , stubborn , nosy , susceptible , perfectionist , insecure , anxious

CONNECTIONS.

MOTHER: mary darling ( status: ??? ) FATHER: george darling ( status: ??? ) SIBLINGS: john darling ( status: alive. ) , michael darling ( status: deceased. ) PETS: eventually a dog in place of that abandoned wolf pup , maybe SIGNIFICANT OTHER: it’s complicated.

hello i LOVE to plot please come plot with me !!! i’ll have a legitimate connections page made soon i promise

IN CHARACTER INTERVIEW.

QUESTION TWO:

Was it hard adjusting to life in Fabletown? Do you miss the Homeworld?

Her heart twists until it aches, settling somewhere in her throat, and the soreness she feels there is terrible. She misses the Homeworld like you would not believe, yearns to return back to what she’s known up until recently, but she knows she must make the best of her situation. Wendy is nothing if not hopeful, and this is what keeps her afloat, even on the days when all she can do is sit at home, squinting into the distance, as she recalls her life before the Exodus. She smooths her skirt with trembling hands, the pleated navy fabric rustling silently, and straightens her back. She shouldn’t slouch. She knows better.

“I think the adjustment must have been difficult for everyone, myself included.” Wendy is not one to overlook the trials and tribulations of others, even as she herself struggles with the day-by-day of this new world. “Of course I miss the Homeworld, I miss it like the stars must miss the moon when the sun rises, I—I think it would not have been so hard, coming here, if I’d not felt as though I was leaving so much behind. But I’m sure the same can be said for most anyone in our… situation.” She doesn’t mention the nights that seemed to sprawl on, where she’d not slept for days, instead choosing to cry, or the days when her chest felt so hollow she was almost convinced she’d need to pick apart her ribs in order to find out whether or not she still possessed her heart.

A loose curl brushes her jawline, and she brushes it away, tucking it ever so gently behind her ear. “I’m still adjusting. It’s not been an easy task, by any means, but I believe part of our responsibility now is to remain adaptable. Besides that, it would be unfair to say that the change has been entirely terrible. We’ve been granted new opportunities, the ability to meet new people, there are so many new things to see and do.” It’s easier to treat this like something of an adventure, than to see it as a never-ending eternity. How familiar.

“I suppose, most of all, it’s important to stay hopeful.”

QUESTION THREE:

Where is your favorite place in Fabletown or New York?

The question is no sooner posed, and Wendy is smiling to herself, images of her loft conjured up within her imagination. It is certainly not the house in Bloomsbury, but it is her own, and she has made it as such. The walls are white, and would be considered bland, were they not adorned with pictures and artwork, string lights that cast the den in warm light. The couch is a mess of throw pillows and a particularly soft fleece throw, coffee table crowded with textbooks, notebooks, book-books, and the occasional succulent; everything is somewhat disorganized, but in the most organized way possible. Knick knacks line the shelves in her bedroom, tiny little things she’s picked up here and there, and none of them need a particular meaning in order to belong. Today, the apartment smells like chamomile tea and cinnamon, warm and cozy, safe and secure, like a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“My home, of course.” Her voice is filled with the sort of pride you’d hear a mother speak about her children’s accomplishments with, because truly, the home she has created for herself here in Fabletown is a safe haven, her own little alcove of personal magic. She may not be someone in tune with the arcane, but she can create her own version of magic, whether it be in how she interacts with others, or things she chooses to do for herself. Buying a new candle to soothe her nerves? Certainly. “It’s small, but I’d like to believe it’s welcoming. Filled with love, if you will, and I find that to be rather important.”

QUESTION FOUR:

How do you feel about magic? Do you think it should be banned, regulated, or neither?

Her eyes are aglow with enthusiasm at the mention of magic—such a wondrous little word that is, blanketing her heart in childhood nostalgia and the need to believe—but behind that lies a certain amount of trepidation. She has seen the danger that comes with placing unrestricted power in the hands of those who operate on their own rules, how magic can be used not only for wonder and creation, but for destruction and greed. If you would look hard enough, beneath the many layers of wonder and hesitancy, you would notice something else: the barest flicker of envy. Wendy is not one to become so often plagued by jealousy that she grows into something bitter and mean, but sometimes even she is not free of those resentful pangs. She has only ever been able to taste magic at the grace of another, and though she’s grateful for even a taste, it would be nice to be able to harness it for her own. If only for a day, even.

Her hands are clasped neatly in her lap, one thumb running over the other in time with her breathing. “I believe,” She begins, and then pauses, as though she must regather her thoughts. “I believe magic is an extraordinary thing.” Another pause, as the lush forests of Neverland appear behind her eyelids when she blinks, the tang of magic in the air, the sparkling lagoon, the mermaids—it shifts, and then something is very wrong. Grinning skulls peek through gilled skin, flashing sharp teeth and cavernous eye sockets that consume her like the void. It is enough to startle her back into shaken silence for a few long minutes, the ticking of the clock hanging on the far wall feeling awfully familiar as it tracks her silence.

“And as with all extraordinary things, there is the ever-present risk that someone will come along and ruin it, so to speak. Magic is a gift that some may be far too comfortable taking advantage of, for the wrong reasons.” Her words seem to be spoken with a sense of mourning underlying them, and the downward turn of her lips belies regret. Truly, she believes in the goodness of others, but logically she understands that without rules set in place, it would give too much allowance for evil to run wild. “If we lived in an ideal world, I would find no issue with letting magic flow freely, but in this case regulation is the safest choice.”

QUESTION FIVE:

Who do you think killed Little Red Riding Hood?

Minutes pass in silence as she glances around the room, as if the walls will afford her some secret knowledge, some right answer, as if one were to exist. Wendy has tried not to let her thoughts linger for far too long on what’s happened to Little Red Riding Hood, as if her denial would undo whatever had been done to the woman. Out of sight, out of mind, isn’t something that seems to exist, in this case. Teeth sink into her lower lip, and she chews although she knows better, nipping at glossy skin that will turn sore if she keeps it up.

“I don’t know. It’s not a satisfactory answer, I do know that much, but.. this isn’t something I’ve wanted to devote much time to. I don’t want to think about what happened to her, or worse yet, who could’ve done it—this is a terrible situation.” Violence has been present in her life far too often as of late, and her skin is littered with goosebumps now at the consideration that there may be a possibility that someone she knows could be a cause, or a suspect, at the least. Wendy places that thought within a box, seals it off, and places that into another box, on and on it goes, until the intrusive idea is locked away for the time being. Her eyes are apologetic, soft, tinged with fright. “But I hope justice is served, for her sake.”

PLAYLIST.

coming soon..

#poison:intro #i hope i covered all my bases here fgjfjks #— the storyteller & the story told. | ABOUT. ) +.*

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depitydoda · 6 years

Text

Keepers of the Crypt: Spiders Curse pt 11

“Are you that upset about your hair?” Diana sat across from Jericho who was using the reflection of the napkin dispenser to look at his hair. They both sat in a 90’s themed diner. A large empty bowl sat in front of them, the only remnants of what was left remained on their chocolate stained spoons.

“I don’t know. I dislike changing for some guy...” Jericho whined. He used his fingers to comb his hair back before setting the napkins back on the table.

“It’s a god JJ. Not your boyfriend.” Diana pointed the chocolate stained spoon at the newly self conscious Jericho, “You can always dye your hair like Caspian. Make it your own.” Sticking the spoon in her mouth, they both watched as the bowl was taken away and was replaced by their meals. “Why did we get dessert first?”

“It’s something Marcus liked to do. It became a force of habit after a while.” He admitted. Taking a knife and fork, he started to dig into his chicken parmesan. “Have you... thought about what I asked?”

Diana, mid bite, set down her burger. She folded her hands together and looked at the ground. “I was wondering if you were going to ask about that.” She took a deep breathe and leaned back into her chair. “That was the main reason Marcus and I were late yesterday. We were discussing it with the council.”

“And?” For the first time in a while, he felt nervous, but he wasn’t sure if it was him or Midas.

“They’ll have you, but it’s going to come with some conditions.” Diana announced, her tone dropped friendliness, and was replaced with a more serious one. “One, you have to move to Crystalyn, the capital city of the Keeper’s headquarters.”

Jericho felt as if he was punched in the gut. All the air was drained out of him, he couldn’t breathe as he tried to grasp the idea of moving. “But-“

Diana cut him off by continuing, “Let me finish before you start asking questions.” She took her time to speak again, “Second, you’ll be placed under my team with Zoran, and Cheryl. There, I will be responsible for you and your actions. Finally, you’ll be responsible for for the actions you take while possessed by Midas.”

There was a long silence before they spoke. Jericho’s hands lie fidgeting in his lap. “What about Marcus? He can stay in the city with his powers, why can’t I?” She gave him a guilty look. She stared down at her uneaten burger, and it slowly dawned on him. “You’re not planning on taking the crown off him.” Her silence spoke the truth. “That’s not fair... he’s done nothing wrong, you can’t keep him under your thumb like that.”

“It’s not him we’re worried about!” She argued. “It’s Trishula. You have no idea what he did while Trishula took the reins. He slaughtered countless people. I like Marcus, I do, but I refuse to let that happen again Jericho.”

Jericho watched his meal slowly get cold, sighing, he grabbed his utensils and started eating again, he refused to waste his money on a meal. “Ok, I get it. Does Marcus know about this. About... me leaving?”

Diana followed suit, and started to eat, “The crown, yea. But not with you leaving. I felt that was something you needed to do.” She answered with a mouthful of burger.

He nodded, “Thanks... Not looking forward to that talk. What about this case? Do I get good boy points for finishing this one and the wendigos?”

“Since there’s no Keeper pack shadowing you, that’s a yes and as for this case, we need to complete it before we can begin.”

Jericho nodded and swallowed a cut piece of chicken. “Then let’s solve this and get this over with.”

~~~~~~~~

Marcus returned later that day with torn clothes and muddied hair, but despite this he looked happy, “I needed that.” He announced as he walked in, falling onto the couch. “There was a Grudge there, but he didn’t stop me or anything thankfully.”

“That’s good.” Jericho sat on the couch, hands clammy, and breathe short. He was terrible at keeping secrets, he had planned on telling Marcus the news after the murderer was caught, but he didn’t know if he could keep it in.

Marcus smiled as Cleo started to rub against his legs and Yoshi climb up his arm. “How’s my babies doing.” He walked towards the counter and took out their food. “How was your lunch date with Diana? I’m almost jealous.” He joked.

“Marcus I need to tell you something.” Jericho announced, but before he could finish, Cleo and Yoshi started to hiss. Cleo’s back arched as Yoshi’s frills went up. Both of the animals looked towards the door as they slowly backed away.

Jericho slowly stood up and drew his daggers. Looking back to Marcus he shook his head, and mouthed him to stop. Ignoring him, Jericho walked towards the door and looked through the peep hole to see a ghost like figure standing in the doorway. Her jaw was unhinged and rotten, she wore a dirty white dress, stained with blood and dirt and a white vail covering her face. She swayed in the hallway, as if she was submerged under water. She moved forward and passed through the wooden door and Jericho who dropped to the floor and clutched his chest. His felt as if he was tossed into a frozen lake.

“Banshee.” Marcus mumbled. He opened his palm and a small silver scythe like blade attached to a light blue silk scarf appeared in his hand.

The banshee seemed to dislike the metal as she hissed and veered away from it. Jericho got over the shock and slowly got up, his blades ablaze. Looking between Jericho and Marcus the banshee must’ve known how bad her situation was.

Marcus took the initiative and flung the bladed scythe at the banshee, embedding it in her shoulder. The banshee let out a blood curdling wail which shattered the windows of the apartment and made Jericho and Marcus fall to their knees, holding their ears.

Jericho winced and closed his eyes, he wished for the pain to stop, it felt as if shards of glass were tunneling into his ears and to his brain.

Fighting through the pain he looked up and saw the banshee slowly floating towards Marcus, who was curled into the fetal position, holding his ears. The wailing stopped but his head was ringing. He forced himself to his feet and tossed a dagger into the banshee’s back.

He watched as it passed through the specter, hitting the wall in front of her. She turned around and faced Jericho, jaw twitching and letting out a strangled noise that sounded like a deflating tire. For a cruel moment Jericho thought she was laughing.

“You creepy lil shit.” Jericho struggled. Raising his dagger, he changed his stance to better hold it. Willing the blades on fire again, he was willing to try this again with a different angle. “Let’s see if you’re immune to fire.”

He lunged with the intent to keep its attention. Slashing down at her, she quickly fazed through the wall, avoiding the attack. Once again her laugh echoed through the room.

“Undead bridesmaid is starting to piss me off.” He announced. Kneeling down beside Marcus, he patted his shoulder without looking, keeping eyes all around him. He took a moment to look at Marcus to see that he was in a worse shape than he thought.

He was holding his ears, black blood seeped through his fingers, shivering uncontrollably. “Make it stop... please.” He begged.

“Marcus...” He didn’t have time to worry as he felt the same cold as before. His instincts kicked in as he turned around and slashed out with his lit dagger. He received another dose of the banshee’s scream, he held his ears and watched her disappear once again.

Pulling the dagger out of the wall, both daggers were lit again. “It had to be a specter.” He mumbled, “Couldn’t have been a gremlin or troll, it had to be a specter.” Slowly he backed his way into the kitchen, keeping his eyes on his surroundings and Marcus. Once he felt safe enough, he quickly ransacked Marcus’ spice rack. “Please, please.” Feeling the cold wash over him once again he slashed out with his daggers in a wide arc, only to see nothing. Wondering where she went he gasped as his lungs froze as an icey hand gripped his heart. Looking down at his chest he saw a withered rotting arm protrude from his chest. Panicking he flailed his arms, hoping to grab the right spice.

The arm twisted and flexed, causing Jericho gasped in pain. Gripping a bishop shaped bottle, he slammed it against the counter, shattering the glass bottle and tossing the contents on the arm.

The banshee wailed and retreated, pulling her arm out of Jericho. Leaning against the counter, Jericho gasped for air, the relief of pain washed over him. “Thank the gods.” He inhaled.

Looking back he found the banshee gone, the presence of her vanished into the air, yet, he waited. And waited for her to return. Nothing.

Dropping to his knees and hands, he caught his breathe. “Marcus, please say something.” When he got no response he shuffled to him and rolled him over. Tears ran down his eyes as he was looking into the distance. “Gods. What did she do to you.” Resting him onto the couch he rushed to the phone and called Diana, “Come over NOW! Marcus needs help!”

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fanfic-scribbles · 6 years

Text

Chill

A/N: Finally, I have a non-smut Destielxreader idea! This turned out way different than I intended –I just wanted some snow shenanigans and fluff– but I like it well enough. I hope you like it too, but if it’s not your bag then that’s cool too.

Summary: Reader is starting to feel the burn of the hunting life. Luckily Dean and Cas are always on their side.

Quick facts: Romance fic – Dean/Castiel/Reader with a dash of Sam/Gabriel – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Destielxreader, implied Sabriel, implied sexytimes, fluff, little bit o’ self-deprecating reader.

Words: 1739

“And another evil son of a bitch bites the dust!” Dean says proudly, standing over the wendigo’s body smoldering in the snow.

You roll your eyes at the energetic (adorable) bastard and share a look with Gabriel. He materializes some cheerleader pom-poms and shakes them. “Gooooo team!” he says sarcastically and you have to chuckle. You have to, because it’s the first chance you’ve had to laugh in a while and it’ll probably be the only chance you have for some time to come. After this there’s going to be another hunt, possibly after a night of sleep, but more likely you’ll be back on the road by nightfall. It’s been like this for weeks now, going nonstop from place to place and you don’t complain because…well, no one else is, and if you don’t save these people then who’s going to? You get sleep, you eat well enough, and Dean and Castiel are fairly doting boyfriends that make sure you’re healthy and upright.

Still, you can’t explain why you feel so tired.

Castiel comes up next to you and takes your hand in his as Dean and Gabriel talk about something. “Are you all right?” he murmurs.

“Oh yeah, I’m great, Cas.” You force a smile for him and slip away, looking at the snow-covered clearing. It’s a shame you can’t stay a while, you think as Gabriel snaps away the body and blood and the area is once more pristinely white. The air isn’t as cold as it has been and you can’t imagine a better place to make snowmen or snow angels. Hell, even just being able to take a nice, quiet walk would be–

“Hey!” Dean sputters as he’s hit with something. You have your gun up and out before you see him dusting snow off his face and realize it was just…

A snowball, you realize as another one hits him right in the nose. Dean blinks, startled but not alarmed, and his cross-eyed expression of confusion is just priceless enough that you double over and laugh so hard it hurts. You look ridiculous, you know, because everyone is staring at you and you can’t explain why it’s so funny, it just is. Cas looks so damn pleased with himself that it makes you laugh even harder, though Dean– Dean has a strange look on his face that you don’t have time to parse before he shoots your shared angelic boyfriend a playfully dirty look.

“You’re asking for it, angel,” Dean says, kneeling to pack a snowball.

Cas tilts his head and smirks. “Bring it, human,” he says in that low voice that normally gets the three of you off and running in the bedroom, but right now it gets your blood pumping for a much more innocent reason. Though you’ll keep the other option in mind for later.

Dean throws and Cas dodges it, but he doesn’t dodge the snowball thrown by Gabriel. Cas blinks owlishly in surprise and you decide that only one person gets to put that look on your angel’s face, thank you very much. Well, technically two people. Still.

Gabriel gets a snowball to the head, courtesy of your excellent aim, but while he’s busy narrowing his eyes at you, Sam picks up a bunch of snow in his arms and dumps it over his boyfriend’s head.

After that, it’s everyone for themselves. Snowballs fly at anyone stupid enough to come out from behind cover and the angels play by the rules (mostly, cough, Gabriel, cough) but the entire time you’re on edge. You keep waiting for Dean to call you all back into line, to make the march back towards the car, towards some other horrific monster doing things that will keep your nightmares full for the rest of your life.

You lean against your tree to catch your breath and calm your nerves. Cas suddenly appears in front of you and you yelp, but instead of pelting you with snow, he grabs your jacket and leans in to kiss you. He’s so warm you accept the company without hesitation, and once he’s done with your lips he warms your face with even more kisses. If this is a trap, it’s a really nice one.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Cas says. “We’re not going anywhere today. Enjoy it.”

“Really?” you ask, relief seeping into your entire being. Cas winks at you and disappears.

You take a snowball to the chest and it hits so hard you jump and curse, especially when you see trails of luxurious hair flow behind someone as they jump behind a tree. “Sam!”

The snowball-snow-anything fight ends with the bunch of you collapsed in a pile near the center of the clearing. All around you shows signs of the epic battle– the ground is all trampled and the trees are marked with the remains of snowballs gone astray. You lazily make the worst snow angel ever, think about what Cas might have to say if you tell him what it is, and turn to laugh helplessly into Dean’s chest.

“What’s so funny?” he chuckles and holds you close. Cas peers at you from Dean’s other side, but you shake your head at both of them and hide yourself in Dean’s open jacket.

“Nothing, nothing, I just…” You take a deep breath and smile, for real, at your boyfriends. “That was fun.”

“And now for the really fun part of warming up,” Dean says with a truly ridiculous eyebrow movement that makes you collapse into laughter yet again.

“Eeewwww!” Gabe says and you look back to see him jump up and offer Sam a hand. He screws his face in mock disgust and sticks his tongue out at you. “Come on, Sam; we should get going before these deviants start screwing in the snow.”

You roll your eyes but you, Dean, and Cas get up and dust yourselves off. “Says the exhibitionist,” Dean huffs. You all grab your gear and set off after Sam’s giant steps and Gabe’s snow fairy prancing. Dean mutters under his breath, “I swear I think I’ve seen that guy’s ass more often than I’ve seen either of yours.”

You laugh and Cas snorts in amusement. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so light but you want to savor this moment, walking in between Cas and Dean, arms linked with your two favorite people. You want to savor that happiness but…well, but then Cas looks at you like that, deep blue focusing on you and lips quirking into a familiar smirk. “We should fix that, then,” he says, and as Dean slips a hand into your back pocket you think that you’re going to give ‘warming up’ a fair shot.

It exceeds all expectations. At the end you snuggle into bed, spooned on either side by Dean and Cas as they share a deep kiss right above your head. “Is it my birthday or something?” you mumble. Sex with three people can turn into an adventure real quick and it’s never boring, but Dean and Cas had teamed up against you from the start and you spent the entire time blissed out with nonstop pleasure. Watching them with each other had been just as hot, of course, but their hands had never left you and you tend to be able to predict when and why that happens.

“Can’t we just want to please you?”

“Oh, definitely not complaining. Just curious,” you say and sigh in contentment.

“Hm,” Dean says and runs his hand up and down your bare hip. “Can I ask you a question?” He kisses your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us you were getting burned out?”

You’re a lot more awake now, and frozen in the metaphorical sense. “Um…I…” You have no good response for that.

“Easy,” Cas murmurs and kisses down your throat. “It is not an accusation, but a question.”

You swallow. “We…what we do is important. How can we take a break when we save lives?”

Cas hugs Dean tighter, squeezing you both. “Going without rest –real rest– can be just as harmful as not eating, not sleeping; it is as important in caring for yourself as the ‘mundane’ daily tasks you make time for.”

You look down. “No one else was complaining,” you mumble. You really are the weak link in the chain. Great.

Dean snorts right into your neck and the ticklish sensation makes you squirm. “Gabe takes Sam away for the drives and the nights. And I…” He sighs. “I guess I can get a little…focused…”

Cas coughs. “Sorry,” he says, smiling at whatever look Dean is giving him.

“Yeah, I bet,” Dean mutters and then clears his throat. “But anyway, Sam and Gabe do get breaks. Cas has always been pretty focused himself. And I…I guess I just don’t think about it because I’ve got what I need. Sam is safe and happy. I’ve got you and Cas all the time, my Baby on the open road, killing monsters and saving people. This is more than I ever thought I’d get in my life. So I just keep going.”

You sigh. “I wish I could.”

“Dean has the same limits everyone else does,” Cas says. “He’s just better at ignoring the warning signs that come before imminent collapse.”

“Not exactly something I want you to emulate,” Dean admits sheepishly and reaches to squeeze your hand. “So maybe you can help. When you start to feel run down, tell us. I learn my limits, we all up our communication; win-win-win.”

“Perhaps you could speak up even before fatigue sets in,” Cas says. “I’ve never been in a snowball fight before. It was quite enjoyable. There are many other human experiences I’d like to partake in.”

“Oh man, you’re right,” Dean says, getting too excited for how late it is and how utterly spent you are. “We should–”

You decide to start helping him learn his limits and turn to give him a quick kiss. “We should take it one day at a time,” you say and settle back down, shutting your eyes.

He relaxes, nuzzles your shoulder, and speaks softly. “Taking on every single day with my Sweetheart and Sunshine? Can’t think of anything better.”

You smile as you and Dean fall asleep, cuddled together under the watch of an angel who loves both of you. Honestly, monsters and all, you have to agree with Dean– there’s nothing better.

#dean x castiel x reader #destiel x reader #spn reader insert #spn fanfic #fluff #supernatural fanfiction #snow #play #romance

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canadian-buckbeaver · 6 years

Text

BloodyBerry Ch.2

An old request for @battrethemature that I still haven't finished writing. Looks like you're getting a third chapter.

- If you like what I do, visit my AO3 Account and buy me a Ko-Fi! -

Time has passed since Fell has revealed his dangerous identity to Blue. Yet, even as everyone wishes for things to return to normal, Blue can’t.

He is drawn to the arms and eyes of a vampire.

It seemed that, once Fell had disappeared into the night that everything returned to normal. Like nothing had ever happened. His brother had no recollection of what had occurred, and did not believe when Blue had told him that he had tried to gamble him away. His drinking continued but Blue no longer went down to the bar to collect him. He had learned his lesson about trying to babysit his elder brother. It had never turned out well for him, even before the last incident. Truth be told, he was sick of babysitting his brother or trying to look after one who so valiantly hated being looked after. Instead, he let his brother drink his way into his cups while he himself kept busy. He had a new mission.

After that fateful night, Blue did not see Fell for a long time. The days slowly turned into weeks without any sign of the sharp-toothed monster. Every night Blue would don his scarf and travel around the town, calling for him, but to no avail. It caused several monsters to look at him strangely, but none dared approach him. Word had traveled fast that the small skeleton wearing the blue scarf was protected by the vampire lord.

Yet still, Fell remained unseen. Like he did not wish to be seen.

Perhaps this would have discouraged a weaker, less willed monster. They would have stayed home or hid in the daylight, wondering where he had disappeared to. But Blue was no weak-willed monster. Blue did not give up. He was slightly Determined, a rare quality for monsters, but he also felt a strong pull to the vampire lord. He wasn’t sure how to describe this pull. It felt magnetic, two different ends pulling to each other roughly…

But where was his missing, pulling magnet? Surely he couldn’t have walked off the face of the Earth. That was impossible.

One crisp and cool night Blue did the same as he always did. He pulled on his gloves and boots and wrapped the warm scarf around his vertebrae. He was forever grateful for the gift. It was warm and thick, and one of the most beautiful things that he had ever seen. His brother and himself had never had much money between the two of them. Their father had left when they were both very young and his brother worked several dead-end jobs to make ends meet, but usually ended up drinking away any extra that he may have made.

Blue nuzzled into the soft fabric as he started his walk. The red eyed monster had more peaked his interest him he had to admit. It was hard to believe that he had only seen Fell twice in his entire life… perhaps if he took into account the times that Fell had appeared in his dreams… Blue flushed at the thought. No, he wasn’t to think about those… who knows which has the power to mind read.

He paused by a quiet, darkened alleyway. It branched off the main path, and circled up to the cliffs that cast the town in shadows. Every night when he had done his walk he had stayed to the lighted path, the sidewalks that were crowded with monsters and merchants… perhaps he needed to take a different approach. Fell had said he preferred the dark to the light, the quiet to the busy.

Blue gulped. The darkness, with its numerous secrets, held the opposite appeal to him. He was terrified of the possibilities of what could be lurking in the darkness. If Fell was a vampire, what else could there be? Wendigoes? Demons? Ghosts? Or worse? What could attack him?

The memory of those ruby eyes caused him to take a deep breath and take a single step into the ally. He froze at the sound of a mouse squeaking and scampering in the distance, already around the bend of the path. Already the alleyway looked dark and imposing, the shops looking unwelcoming… he squared his shoulders and forced himself to take another step, and then another.

Fearfully he crept down the ally, jumping at every noise, his imagination running wild with the possibilities of what could have made it. Was that the wind or a banshee trying to startle its prey? Was that Pennywise the shapeshifting in the sewer? Blue stopped at a loud, rusty creak and slowly turned, his soul beginning to beat again when he saw that it was merely a hanging sign. He let out a deep exhale, again beginning to toy with his scarf. This was ridiculous. His fear was ridiculous. Such creatures were from the scary stories that Papyrus used to read to him when they were baby bones. He was much too old to believe such tales now… perhaps he should leave the ally. It was obvious that Fell wasn’t here anyways. “Fell?” he softly called, again trying not to alert those that might do him harm. “Fell, where are you?” he asked the darkness.

“Blue, what on Asgore’s green land are you up to?” a semi familiar voice asked behind him.

Blue yelped and spun on his heel, looking up at the harsh voice.

Fell… He was dressed in more of a way that Blue would imagine a Lord or a vampire dressing. He had a crisp white blouse, a red scarf tied in an elegant ascot fashion, bringing out his red eyes against the stark whiteness of his skull, and his long cape had a tall collar, perfect for fighting off the chill of the air.

Fell was looking at him expectantly Blue realized… oh! The question.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Blue admitted, scoffing his boot against the rough pavement, avoiding the monster’s piercing stare. The eyes were even redder than in his dreams…

That got Fell’s attention. The vampire raised a single brow, even as his sockets began to pucker slightly in confusion. “And what if I did not wish to be found?” he asked.

Blue paused. He… he hadn’t considered that. Not at first though his brother had mentioned it a couple of times. It was one of the few times that he had paid attention to Blue, just to warn him off of Fell. Though, now that Fell had said it, it did make some sense to Blue. None of the other monsters had seen any sign of him since the fight at the bar. If he was in hiding, he certainly would avoid being anywhere out in the open. Blue decided to forgo this answer though, go with the more daring one.

“Well. I guess if you didn’t want to be found, you wouldn’t have answered me.” Blue said instead, raising his chin, finally meeting those eyes.

He was rewarded with a small chuckle and the vampire came closer to him. A sharpened glove reached out, tracing the soft cheekbones and the chin on the small skeleton. Blue stood firm, determined not to flinch at the cold hand, nor was he going to lean into the surprisingly soft and gentle touch.

“What if I was hungry and hunting prey?” Fell asked. “One that happened to walk into a dark alley all alone…?” His red eyes glittered and Blue felt him shiver. This was indeed a very dangerous monster. One that he should have been fearful of. All the other monster were terrified of him.

But yet, he wasn’t. He felt safe around Fell, protected. He was the skeleton who wore the blue scarf after all.

“I’ve seen you hunt before. You don’t toy or play with what you consider your food. Even when you attacked the dog you were quick. Your teeth went straight into his neck, right to the main vein. Even as he begged and threatened, you never gave him any hope of getting away. If you were truly hunting me than you wouldn’t have talked to me. You would have attacked me before I had the chance to defend myself. Before we started talking, perhaps even before I was aware of you.” Blue told him. It was true, even for when they first met Fell had displayed this tendency. Thinking back to when he had followed Fell through the forest and watching him attack the boar, it had been a very streamlined, quickly executed attack. No second guesses. Just the efficient skills of a hunter. “Besides, you’re dressed rather nicely for hunting today.”

Fell’s jawline twitched into a small frown and he quickly withdrew his hand at Blue’s words. He acted as if he were burned. “You think you know me already? How many times have we met? Twice?” he demanded cruelly, pulling himself up to his full height. “What makes you think that you know anything about me?”

“It’s… it’s a gift.” Blue told him. “I am usually pretty good at reading people and monsters. And you strike me as a very proud and powerful monster, but one that does not play around at risk of losing the prey – that does not give you anything to gain. You attack to ensure victory. Quick and efficient battles. You are strong, and like the people to know that you are strong. They hold you in high regard, and also don’t dare to test you. You, as the humans say, you mean business. You don’t hold back…”

The vampire watched him carefully. “I will have to watch out for you. It seems you do know me quite well. Or perhaps I have been too open during our little chats.” He said, turning around suddenly to leave the alley. The vampire felt a slight unease. He had been standing still for too long. He needed to move, to walk, to pace… move. His long legs moved him quickly into the safety of the shadows, hiding him from any passing monsters.

Blue scurried after him, sighing in relief as he reached the safety of the lamplight. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked. “For the dog and boar both battles were quick…”

“If the battle drags on too long, my magic begins to drain my life source.” Fell said quickly, before walking faster. Blue noted the slightly pink cheeks. Not embarrassed, it was more of a flustered reflex than anything. Fell had probably said something that he wasn’t planning on telling him.

Did he already feel comfortable, at least a little bit, around him? Comfortable to sneak him these little tidbits of information about him?

“So… Fell wait up!” he said, finally stepping in front of the tall monster. Fell sighed and attempted to walk around him, causing Blue to dance in front of him again. “Fell, just talk to me. Why did you disappear after you saved me?” He asked, silently pleading with the tall skeleton to talk. “As I told you, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He could feel the pull now. Telling him to go closer to him. To be held by him.

Fell didn’t slow his pace. Instead, he shuffled around him, simply moving himself out of the way of Blue before continuing on. His long legs continued to travel as he walked, forcing Blue to now break into a semi-run to keep up with him. Fell growled at him, frustrated at the energy and determination of the little monster. “Perhaps I didn’t want you to see me again. Certainly not after seeing me like that.” he said, already beginning looking down another ally, as if looking to escape.

To get away from Blue.

Blue ran in front of him, finally forcing Fell to pause. “Why? You saved me. Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?” Blue crossed his arms, the scarf fluttering in the breeze. “You’re withholding information from me.”

“What business is of yours is it to know?” Fell demanded, walking around Blue again. “I’m a vampire, bringer of death and curses. I attract nothing but bad luck.” He eyed a different backroad, one that led to the open park.

Panicking, realizing that he was getting away, Blue grabbed hold of Fell’s leg. “And so what? What if I am also bad luck?” he asked.

A hand seized the back of his scarf and pulled him off of him. “No…” Fell snarled, “but you are being a bit of a pest. Why do you ask so many annoying questions?” He stood him back on the pavement. Probably ready to walk off or disappear the moment he had the chance to.

Blue readjusted the blue scarf around his neck, looking up to Fell. “You were the first monster here, other than my brother, to really see me. To see me as a true monster, not just his annoying shadow or a weakling. Anyone else sees me as small, as pathetic, useless or pathetic. If my brother wasn’t around, anyone else would have let me die… let mermaid pull me in and drown me. It would have a mercy killing in their eyes. I’m too weak for anything else.” He sighed softly, scoffing his boots on the stone pavement. He could feel his soul was fluttering violently in his chest.

* * * * *

Fell was still standing there, still as a statue. A mercy killing? For this monster? “Why would anyone consider the loss of you, a relief?” he demanded. Perhaps he was a traitor of his kind and Fell had read him wrong this entire time…

The blue skeleton didn’t even flinch at the question. Possibly one that was asked commonly. “You might not care, but I was born with a defect. My marrow sugars were too low when I was a newborn. Some complicated from of monster juvenile diabetes, one that caused my magic levels to rise and fall sporadically. And now, now the levels are non-existent.” He looked up at Fell. “You know what that means, right?”

Fell did understand. All too well. A monster without magic was an easy target. Easy EXP or LOVE for those who still cared about their stats… though that was considered backwards thinking.

“You’ll get stronger. I know you will.” Fell said finally, walking past the little monster. Yet, there was something pulling him towards the tiny skeleton… how odd. He had occasionally felt this way with prey when he had known that it would be well worth the fight.

But a fellow monster?

“And how do you know that for sure? I’ve relied on everyone important to me to protect me, to raise me… and you even had to protect me when my brother was too drunk to.” Blue said, those blue eyes watering.

Shit. Why were mortals so easy to bring to tears? Such weakness…

“Because my brother and I were something along the same way before we both turned. When we turned our bodies changed, making us into efficient hunters and fighters. Ones that could be feared and protect the legacy of vampires.” Fell said. He hadn’t spoken of Jaws in so long…

A blue gloved hand grabbed his hand. “So… if I turn… I too will become strong? Strong like you?” Blue asked, his eyes shining.

Oh… that look in his eyes… there was a dangerous plan swimming behind those eyes. One that would only lead to trouble. Fell could foresee that.

“Bite me.”

#edgeberry #us!sans #uf!papyrus #us!papyrus #vampire!papyrus #biting #talking #plot set up #Underswap sans #Underswap papyrus #Underfell papyrus #diabetic blue

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kimber-elise-monroe · 5 years

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“LADIES, CALM DOWN, THERE'S ENOUGH OF DADDY CARVER FOR THE BOTH OF YOU!"

“FUCKSAKE! YOU WOMEN ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME!” Carver bellows out in a tone laced with amusement and laughter as Kimber and Lennon engage in a playful fight over their male lover--both impervious to his insincere complaints. He loves this just as much they do. Soft, delicate hands and the sharp edges of their fingernails pawing and clawing at the ink-stained flesh decorating his chest as the sparring match turns into a rough game of tug of war with Kimber on his right and Lennon to his left whilst on the couch. “Not afraid to play dirty Len! I know what gets under YOUR skin. I KNOW your triggers,” Kimber threatens in jest and in reference to how she can use her abilities to send Lennon into a magical and mystical spiral of chaos and hilarity. Lennon, quick to yank him back in her direction, growls under her breath. “You do, you’ll regret it,” she states with an impish glint in her eyes. “I’ll set fire to your Louboutins!”

Kimber gasps as her eyes widen. “SPARKYYYY, YOU WOULDN’T DARE!” Threatening a woman’s Louboutins is no less a declaration of WAR. It’s enough for Kimber to loosen her grip on Carver briefly and Lennon, always the opportunist, uses it to her advantage by pulling him even closer to her side. All the while, Carver’s face is painted with a shit eating grin. Eyes narrowing, Kimber tightens her hold on Carver’s arm and leans forward, gaze locked on her female lover. “You go near my Louboutins and I’ll call for back-up, get a Priest in hurrr to exercise the devil outta dat ass!” Kimber states firmly with a nod as tries to keep from grinning. Both females are well versed in talking shit, but would never actually follow through with the threats. There’s simply too much love and affection between them all to even attempt at causing intentional hurt and suffering.

Shockingly, in all the years this odd threesome has been a ‘thing’, one undefined and not easily explained, the two females haven’t once had a real fight over Carver. Matter of fact, not a single one of them fought with another over the one on one relationships and trio dynamic--NOT EVER. One would think that with all three being territorial in nature that conflict would have happened by now, but somehow and someway the trinity managed to keep it all together without any sort of blow out. Granted, that isn’t to say there haven’t been mishaps and misunderstandings in the 9 years they’ve been in this unconventional situation. “YOU GOTTA DEATHWISH?” Len asks, leaning in just as close as Kimber so that their faces are mere inches apart. Kimber snaps her teeth at Len whilst her own kittenish growl rolls past the softness of her lips. The expression on her face conveying how much she is turned on in the moment. “JUST TRY ME,” Kimber retorts.

All three, possess very strong personalities and it’s remarkable just how much they all compliment one another despite their differences, but each has a particular role within this trinity and it’s in those roles they find a security, a sense of family and essentially a home with one another. Truth? Kimber might have been the one to initiate this relationship and put it all into motion, acting as the Sun, the center of their orbit and a beacon of light always guiding them home, but it’s Len that is the Breath that gives them life and the Wind that guides them to each and every new adventure and experience, and it’s Carver that is the Anchor in their foundation and the Glue cementing their bonds and holding them in place, even when moving in opposite directions and under extreme duress.

For one solitary man to have the ability to have such hold over just one them, is astounding, but for a man to have that sort of hold over the both of them, it’s no less miraculous. There are times that Kimber isn’t sure how he does it much less handles it without so much as breaking a sweat, especially when men, in general, have a hard enough time with just one woman on their hands. What Carver has spent years inwardly and outwardly chiseling to perfection throughout his life thus far is unwavering in his manhood. He is his own master in every sense of the title and clever at hiding his intent when needed and surely his emotions even more so. A wickedly cunning man, he is the perfect combination of book and street smarts, and despite his acute, specific tastes and preferences as well as intellect and common sense, he isn’t pretentious in the slightest.

He just simply IS and what he IS exactly can’t be put into words accurate enough to truly describe all the intricate details and subtleties that make him so damn captivating. Hardened by the Wendigo, his peculiar nature, and his mother’s suicide, it's the ice cold, stoic expression carved into his eerily striking features that at times can make him appear so apathetic and/or sinister. Tightly pinched lips compliment the severe lock of his prominent jawline which complements his menacing brow that serves as a hood to his clear blue orbs. When warranted, he can be downright terrifying and his presence in general, imposing and dominant so much so, that he naturally commands an audience. However, all of this is done so with a slick yet jagged elegance. All of these put together to provide a hint of an enigma making him magnetic and even on occasion, approachable, at least when cautioned anyway.

He takes pride in his appearance and the ink etched into his flesh but is seemingly disinterested or uncaring of anything remotely attributing to his attractiveness or the approval or disapproval of others. It can't all be attributed to his features and expressions. He carries himself in a manner entirely unique to him and him alone. A glance alone can tell the casual observer he cut his teeth on the concrete of the very cracks of the city that birthed him, but that he molded himself into his own man via the crude, primitive tools the world provided for him. In his physicality, he is predatory and calculating, but he moves with a fluidity impossible for anyone to plot and just as much as this is so in regard to his physicality, so is his Machiavellian mind.

There is a superiority he radiates that comes only from him being completely confident in who and what he is as well as in everything he does and will do. Yet, it isn’t something he garnered overnight or that came easy. Carver had to earn what confidence he has and skillfully learn how to control the Wendigo living inside him and the darkness threatening to consume him. Both being a burden and a feat not for those with weak constitutions. He’s not a man to challenge or to test. He certainly is not a man to underestimate. Something Kimber learned firsthand years ago when they initially met--a night she could and would never forget.

The chaos of that night and the emotions and trauma spurred by tragedy, the murder of a mutual friend, inspired an unbreakable bond between the two strangers and the events to follow only solidified that newly formed bond. For two unlikely friends and lovers, they made quite the formidable pair. However, what she shared and shares with Len was/is no less unbreakable and if anything, what the three of them have in the present wouldn't have been at all possible if Kimber had never met Lennon and gotten involved with the Grunge Goddess. The moment she emerged from the shadows and invaded Kimber’s world, like a lightning bolt splitting the dark of night and illuminating a black sky in a series of violent flashes, Kimber knew without a doubt she was done for. A seemingly chance encounter at a 7/11 slushie machine, the young and credulous empath couldn’t help find herself a willing captive with her heart held for ransom by this Rebel Queen. The price? All or nothing.

Bittersweet musk mixed with sandalwood and sage, and the distinct scent of wildflowers and the forest after a light rain, THAT is what SHE smells like and that is what always comes to mind the most about Lennon and their first encounter. Well, that alongside cherry slushies and her piercing, clear blue eyes painted in smokey black and charcoal grey. Eyes that despite a chilly and pale hue are remarkable at capturing shadows thus appearing dark and mysterious, and undoubtedly dangerous and wild. She is a breath of fresh air, gliding along a forcible breeze in the midst of pandemonium. Traveling with no direction or destination other than the whims of her rebellious spirit, she is exactly what she appears to be and nothing one could ever anticipate much less predict. For Lennon Stone is the epitome of freedom, exhibition, liberation, and revolution, and is not just captivated by her but completely overwhelmed by her and to the point in which she is drunk--intoxicated by her essence.

When Kimber decided to take a chance by bringing her lovers together, the three became no less a force to reckon with. There are times, more often than not when burdened by doubt and fear, Kimber gets lost in contemplation and thoughts solely of them and the future of their friendship and seemingly casual union, the niche of an atypical relationship they have carved for themselves, and all said doubt and fear simply vanishes--disappearing into the ether. It’s funny how moments like the one playing out right now, spark such profound thought and tug at her heartstrings. “KIMBER! EARTH TO KIMBER!” She hears Len’s voice call out as she waves her snapping fingers before her eyes. “BABY GIRL!” Carver yells! Kimber blinks, shaking her head as she comes back to the here and now with both of her lovers.

A grin curls along her pout and she immediately reaches out to shove her. Using more force than intended, her Sparky falls from the edge of the couch but is quick to grab Kimber by the arms, yanking her right down to the damn floor with her--they land with a hard thud and few loud grunts. Slightly stunned they remain on the floor for a brief moment. “Ladies, calm down, there’s enough of Daddy Carver for the both of you,” Carver interjects with gusto as he pushes his way up from the couch and steps over both his gals--heading straight for Kimber’s bedroom. “If you two can’t play nice, WE won’t play at all and I’ll put your asses in time out.” He states in a firm octave with his back to them both as he disappears into the room. Gazes locked on each other, the two females burst into laughter and clumsily hop up from off of the floor.

The gals know his game and that he isn’t at all serious. Hell, they do this just to rile him up, especially when he is in a foul mood. Works every single time, without fail. Looking at one another yet again, matching smirks decorating their faces and with eyes mirroring prurient intent, and certainly without apprehension follow Carver’s lead and glide their asses right to the bedroom.

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