according2thelore

[according2thelore]

Yep... Talk about being ✨ obsessed ✨

[according2thelore]

After reading your latest ask I had to go reread all the other ageswap posts and GOD. I love twirling them around in my head and imagining all the ways they are similar/different from their canon characters.

Also love the image of dean purposefully splaying out on motel beds with tiny boxers on, wanting to be the first thing sam sees when he gets back from meeting with ruby. Younger sibling Dean would be SUCH a tease. Also the shock sam must’ve had when Dean came to stanford at 18 and was suddenly flirting confidently with waitresses and hooking up with people. Like how would sam deal with that mentally??

Also I was trying to think about how much worse the dean trying to torture alastair scene would be in this verse. Sam overpowered and even more guilt-ridden and protective somehow. I feel like he would go on a rampage lol. And he would be so pissed at Cas.

Anyways, thank you for writing and sharing your thoughts!! I’m obsessed💕🔥

hi, anon! [unfortunately not sure which post this was about, but here is the ageswap masterlist!]

YESSS!!! you get it!! i might be of the opinion that i think ageswap would make them even worse, if it's possible...🫢 i think sam would drink more demon blood, faster, because he also feels that he has to protect dean, and that's what i wrote below!

as a little treat, i may have written a little ficlet rewriting a few scenes from s4e16 "on the head of a pin" for that last paragraph--i hope you enjoy!!!! cw for gore!

dean knows he's going to die.

he knows this game, alastair's hands around his neck, and is just grateful he gets to keep his trachea in his throat, this time.

he thought he actually got out. he had reunited with sam, and sam had been fucking a demon, and heaven had wanted dean for some indefinite purpose. but dean had felt wrong-footed the whole time he's been top-side, as sam's eyes kept sliding right past him and onto the face of a demon, like dean hadn't ever been there.

dean's almost relieved that it's not real, that alastair is back here, that alastair is going to kill him, once again.

this is one of his favourite games, to kill dean, make it hurt, and then shove his offending body parts next to him and let them sew themselves back together. he likes blank canvases best, and when dean gets too torn up, he likes to kill him to remind him that dean can't even look to death for a reprieve.

dean's been killed more times by alastair in his life than the number of times sam has smiled at him. and oh, sam has smiled at him.

dean remembers shoving salt down alastair's throat, hearing alastair's screams. he must have dreamed it, dreamed of cas stealing him, and bringing him into this room.

this is the only thing that's real: alastair's hand on his neck, fingers crushing his windpipe. dean's fingers claw at his iron grip, but alastair is implacable. the second he got out of those chains, dean's life was over.

he can't see out of his right eye at all, swollen shut as it is. his blood drips onto alastair's fingers, and his entire face burns. his blood leaks sluggishly from the cuts caused by alastair's beating, no blood reaching his brain and causing the whole world to go sideways.

dean's hypoxic, and he knows this time he won't be revived. lights start sparking behind his eyes, and the last thing he'll see is alastair's vessel's face.

reality wavers, and dean can see the shape of the demon behind the skin, his True Face, and dean's mouth opens in a scream that gets trapped underneath alastair's fingers.

his heart slams against his ribs painfully, like if it beats hard enough, it can slam past the band cutting his brain off from oxygen.

sam, dean mind screams, as his body jerks. it's been his totem against bad dreams and monsters and fear itself since dean was born, and it's the only word his brain will conjure as his body fails him. sam.

a noise starts, a low rumble that shakes the room, a roaring in dean's ear that sounds like the screams of the damned. he's going to wake up on the rack, dean knows it, sam sam sam sam sam--

the door explodes inwards, and shadows shoot across the floor, the cement roiling like it's transformed into a pit of boiling tar. alastair's hand loosens, barely.

dean's dying, because he sees sam standing in the doorway--samsamsamsamsamsam--his beautiful big brother that can protect dean from everything.

that was one of alastair's favourite tactics when he was too bored to deal with dean personally. he'd send in a lesser demon dressed in sam's skin to set dean free, let dean hold his hand or sob in his arms or kiss him senseless as they fled, only for sam to jog to a stop, and turn around, and smile big-big-big-wrong.

here he is again, and dean is so grateful--like he always is, every time, even when he knows its a trap--to see his brother's face that his mouth twitches, the last movements of starving muscles.

the lights explode in their fixtures, the lazy, hazy sunlight filtering into the warehouse from high above snapping out like the sun getting plucked from the sky.

dean mouths sam's name, wants it to be the last thing he says, like it was the first time he died when sam held his insides, like it was when he formed his first word, eight months old.

and then--dean's on the floor.

castiel passes his brother, stumbling, and a knife is in alastair's shoulder. dean coughs, sputters, tries to get air into lungs that feel like worn-out elastic. the black ground parts around his hands, a perfect circle of clear concrete around dean like an island in an inky sea. little tendrils sneak around his hands, but don't touch him.

the salt of dean's tears make the split skin of his cheekbones sting, which cause even more tears to blur his vision, and the tendrils of black oil turn into smudges of charcoal.

alastair throws castiel off, whirls on him, but--dean blinks.

alastair's gone, and dean's head is pounding, and it takes him a second to find alastair pinned on the wall farthest from dean. sam's steps are slow, slinking, a panther approaching a fatally wounded gazelle. he stops between alastair and dean, stance wide, and dean could sob because he's starting to think that maybe this is sam, after all.

dean wants him to turn around, and he tries to call sam's name, but his throat is shredded.

sam has a flat hand held up in front of him, and alastair struggles against invisible binds that hold him against the cinderblocks.

words float to dean, from afar, but he has to focus to understand them.

"--kill a hundred, a thousand." alastair cackles. castiel is still panting, standing off to the side, and he looks dazed, sickly, like being in this room is killing him.

sam doesn't say anything in response, and alastair scoffs.

"oh, go ahead. send me back, if you can."

dean can't see sam's face, but he can see sam's left hand gather into a fist, nails pressing into his palm. he sees a flicker of uncertainty on alastair's face.

"i'm stronger than that, now. now i can kill." sam snarls. the shadows part around sam, curling around his calves like a pleased housecat. dean can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "now, i can make it hurt."

sam's hand crushes into a fist like he's crushing a can of soda. dean bites back a scream as alastair's vessel rends apart, a scream of pure agony made of something more than a human voice, exploding into golden light, too bright, so bright that dean buries his face against the floor and it still burns through his eyelids.

silence.

then, a shaking hand on his face.

sam, so close, bleeding so heavily from both nostrils that it coats his teeth as he mouths dean's name. dean can taste metal in his mouth, and the moist air smells like flesh. his ears ring, a continuation of a hell scream that'll never fade, that'll rattle in dean's ears forever.

dean, dazed, looks down at his own hands. a chunk of brain is sticky, splattered on the back of his wrist. dean casts a wild look around the room, at spots of alastair, chunks of meat, splattered outwards.

dean doesn't remember anything after that.

~~~

sam storms down the hallway after castiel.

dean's heart monitor beeps steadily, getting fainter as sam tears out of the room. he's furious that castiel dare show his face here, that it's taken him this long to show up and make it right.

the hospital is practically empty of visitors at this time of night, and sam knows he's only allowed to be here because of dean's age, because sam lied and said dean was seventeen, that sam was his legal guardian.

dean had looked it, looked even younger, crumpled and bloody and pale as death in sam's shaking arms.

and here castiel is, five hours late.

the angel slows, but sam is only gaining speed.

castiel stops in front of an empty hospital room, turning slowly to face sam. he looks unsure, as guilty as an angel can look--that is, almost perfectly blank.

sam stops on a dime, barely resisting the urge to take him to the ground and painfully recreate the beating that swelled dean's eye shut, that cut gashes across his lips, his forehead, his cheekbones.

sam's blood is so hot that he's shaking.

"get in there and heal him. miracle. now." sam snarls. the buzzing under his skin rises to fever pitch, makes sam itchy all over. he hates being this close to castiel. his grace--no, his self-assured righteousness, sam corrects--makes sam antsy and irritable at the best of times.

even without all of that, sam couldn't stand the look of him right now.

his failures. his failures make sam irritable.

his reckless endangerment.

"i can't." castiel says.

sam's vision tunnels, a wave of pure, unadulterated rage making the edges of the bright hallway go dark. sam puts a hand on cas's chest and shoves him back, forcing him into the empty room behind him and closing the door behind them.

the room is dark, except for the square of yellow light that falls through the observation window. sam whirls on castiel, teeth grinding together so hard that his jaw spasms.

"you did this." sam spits.

he knows he shouldn't escalate this. logically, he knows this. he might be powerful, but he's not powerful enough to take on an angel. most demons weren't strong enough to do that. but sam has never wanted to hurt anyone more than he wants to hurt castiel in this moment.

well, not anyone living. anyone sam's wanted to kill this badly is already dead.

"you and uriel put him in there--" castiel tries to protest, but sam powers through him, "--because you can't keep a simple devil's trap together."

castiel frowns.

"i don't know what happened. that trap...it shouldn't have broken. i am sorry."

castiel can eat his sorries. he can swallow them down his holy fucking throat. he can choke on them.

sam doesn't give a fuck.

the thing he put dean through--hell, the things he put sam through, the past twelve hours, scouring the nation for wherever castiel had taken his baby brother, the demon that ruby had summoned to cut into, just for the power to enter the fight--was unconscionable. soulless.

sam doesn't want castiel's apologies.

sam pulls himself to his full height, and glares down at the angel in front of him.

"i didn't want it to come to this, cas. but if a single angel puts my little brother in another dangerous situation--if you touch a hair on his fucking head, if i so much as hear a flap of feathers anywhere near him..."

sam has to take a deep breath, his voice wavering. the room brightens suddenly, and sam casts a look over his shoulder. nothing in the hallway is different, and sam realizes he brought the shadows with him, with each word, slipping underneath the door crack and lapping at the wood like hungry flames.

sam inhales shakily, and focuses back on castiel, whose face has darkened, squinting through sam like he can see his insides. sam takes a step forward. let him look.

sam wants him to see what sam will become to protect his little brother. what he's already become.

"if he died, i would have killed you. do you understand me?" sam keeps his voice level. calm. "he isn't yours. until you're ready to make this right, i don't want to see you."

sam turns around, walks back to the door.

"heaven does not tolerate threats, sam winchester." castiel says, "not from the likes of you."

sam turns his head, but does not turn around. if castiel wants to walk away from the body of his brother that cas himself had broken, sam doesn't trust himself to let him do it in one piece.

"how does heaven tolerate promises?" sam asks. he opens the door and light spills into the room, pools around sam's outline on the scuffed floor. "i haven't threatened you once."

he leaves castiel in the dark, and returns to his rightful place.

~~~

just saying that sam would get more powers quicker, bc he feels like he has to protect dean even more than he already does. he'd push himself farther than he already does in canon.

as for dean being a tease YUPPPPP. he nuzzles up to sam, can't get enough of being under his arm, of his shoulders smelling like sammy sweat. if he can't have sam to himself (s4, ruby), dean's going to show sam everything that he can't have, small shorts and flushed lips and fresh off of humping sam's pillow while he was out.

chapstick that tastes like green apple and sam's too-big shirt down to his thighs.

sam leaves dean as a fourteen year old and an eighteen year old dean comes swaggering onto campus and leering at jess like a blow up doll. sam's brain is tv static. he's still used to being overprotective of dean, but now it feels wrong as dean slides spit-slick smiles over the counter at their waitress. it make sam's skin sit wrong on his bones.

dean's encouraging sam to get laid, but to sam this is still his twelve-year-old little brother, especially since he didn't get to see the shift from first make-outs to having sex in the backseat of the impala. sam gave dean the "no glove no love" talk, but he's also nauseous as dean plays a game of grab ass with the pretty bartender in the alley behind the bar.

he literally has to hard-reboot his brain when dean walks into the diner to pick up their food and walks back out with a phone number on their receipt, grinning widely. sam almost goes back in to blow up on the cashier for hitting on his barely-eighteen jailbait little brother.

anywayyyyy! i'm sorry this was so late, but i did indeed rotate this around in my brain like that gif of jensen ackles in the microwave.

i hope you enjoyed! <3

-lizzy

[according2thelore]

[according2thelore]

they never explicitly do as far as i can recall, but allude to it occasionally like ���we do this so XYZ can sleep safely,” etc.

to me, it’s kinda the paternalism of it all. i’m sure they think they’re keeping the public generally “safer.” if vampires are real, and they can and will kill you, it’s kind of a free for all on people who act “weird” around blood. if werewolves lose control once a month and will bite the arm off your toddler, suddenly there’s a market for silver bullet machine guns.

there’s a general contempt for “civilians” that mostly dean but occasionally sam will refer to: they are vapid and stupid and frivolous, because they do not have the burden of knowledge. they’re children.

it’s an extension of paternal authority that we see early in the show. john has the secrets but won’t tell them to “keep them safe.” after john dies, dean won’t tell sam about what dad said to “keep him safe.”

there’s a power to having knowledge, and deciding who gets to have it, and hunters as a community are very paranoid, selective, and brutal. THEY know what’s best. you couldn’t possibly.

wait do they ever explain why in supernatural they're like... keeping the monsters a secret

[according2thelore]

I love the man from uncle movie too! I even wrote a little fic! they're so adorable, Gaby, solo and Illya together!

hi, lovely!

i believe this was sent after i reblogged the man from u.n.c.l.e. art,a and EEE!! i LOVED that movie when it came out (although now unfortunately the excitement has been tainted somewhat by armie hammer news).

as i mentioned in the tags, i was HUNGRYYY for man from u.n.c.l.e. fics back in the day, and this ask has actually inspired me to watch the movie again. i totally agree that solo, gaby, and illya are FANTASTIC!!! i love seeing henry cavill in a role where he diverges from his "silent, strong, kickass" usual fare. i'm just a big fan of bright, colourful, fun movies, and this movie really ticked the boxes.

if you're feeling generous, anon, i'm always looking for fic recs! :)

-lizzy

[according2thelore]

in all of the in universe supernatural book fandom, did they ever acknowledge the fact that Sam and Dean have the same names as two serial killers? Winchester brothers serial killer fans seems like such a wasted opportunity.

ooh this is a great question, anon!

i LOVE both the fact that there is a canonical book series about sam & dean and the fact that sam & dean are canonically wanted by the feds.

i think the supernatural book fandom would treat sam and dean the serial killers in the way that we treat the slenderman killings, lmao. they would see sam and dean as REALLY dedicated fans that took the bit too far, and assumed the names sam and dean and started recreating the crimes from the book. they'd even probably believe that "sam and dean" are a mantle taken by multiple spree killing duos, as "sam and dean" have died multiple times.

when 60 minutes on ABC does an episode on their string of killings (with a weird aborted three-minute section on fact their life details match up with the book as well), they don't believe it.

somewhere, somewhen, somehow, chuck gets pulled in for questioning, but for is released every time, a little smile on his mouth and the feds that had cuffed him not an hour before are laughing with him jovially as they lead him out of the building.

but, of course, like people in the actual here and now, they become something akin to celebrities. tasteless people on college campuses go to frat parties dressed like sam and jess, jess in a white nightgown and covered in blood. sam and dean are also crowd favourites. especially in places where their crimes were well-known, like the stanford campus, the town where "they" shot up the bank, the city in nightshifter where they held the other bank hostage.

girls write fanmail to sam and dean in prison, and after they "die" in jus in bello, there is a small little altar at the base of a tree in front of their childhood home in lawrence, just two pictures of them taken from security cameras and melted candles and black toy cars.

the supernatural book fandom becomes somewhat of a hot-topic, like the real-life true crime "fandom," and people online write multiple disclaimers before they write fic and meta about the series that they are talking about the FICTIONAL characters sam and dean and not the real-life serial killer pretenders.

the conventions are all well-attended, after the books kind of blow up due to the mysterious death/resurrection of two of the most prolific american spree killers.

there are multiple posts on fan forums about whether it's appropriate to cosplay sam and dean, but for the most part, fans are going to fan.

jess is actually one of convention-goers favourite costumes, once the conventions really start to take off, and sam one time stumbles into a jess-exclusive panel in the two or three episodes when they interact with the fandom. they do face castings for his dead girlfriend on screen, but it's not until sam looks out at the crowd and sees sexy-nurse jess, white-nightgown jess, smurf-t-shirt jess, that he realizes what's happening. he barely makes it to the shitty, cramped convention bathroom before he throws up. a man dressed as azazel comes to check on him.

and i hate to say it, but i think after sam&dean make national headlines, there would be sam and dean porn. porn companies across the world like making "serial killer/stalker porn," and i've even seen video titles about someone pretending to be jeffery dahmer, etc. all this to say, somewhere out there, there is baby-girl-ified-twinky-"dean" with six-two-three-hundred-pound-beary-"sam" and terrible porn dialogue and at least a little fake blood.

i wouldn't be surprised, since the brothers get so much media coverage, if there were even copy-cat killers. there a few isolated incidents of arson, crispy bodies left behind in white nightgowns. a spree killer cites the winchester brothers in his manifesto.

sam, who actually enjoys and regularly consumes true crime content (though apparently dean knows who the lindbergh baby is but that's neither here nor there), stumbles on a podcast episode with his and dean's name as the title, and can't help but be intrigued. the hosts speculate on whether they're actually brothers or not, and one of them is a "supernatural" book fan, and giddily compares the real life serial killers to the book.

but i think ultimately dean would be the one to find the porn. :)

-lizzy

[according2thelore]

After reading your latest ask I had to go reread all the other ageswap posts and GOD. I love twirling them around in my head and imagining all the ways they are similar/different from their canon characters.

Also love the image of dean purposefully splaying out on motel beds with tiny boxers on, wanting to be the first thing sam sees when he gets back from meeting with ruby. Younger sibling Dean would be SUCH a tease. Also the shock sam must’ve had when Dean came to stanford at 18 and was suddenly flirting confidently with waitresses and hooking up with people. Like how would sam deal with that mentally??

Also I was trying to think about how much worse the dean trying to torture alastair scene would be in this verse. Sam overpowered and even more guilt-ridden and protective somehow. I feel like he would go on a rampage lol. And he would be so pissed at Cas.

Anyways, thank you for writing and sharing your thoughts!! I’m obsessed💕🔥

hi, anon! [unfortunately not sure which post this was about, but here is the ageswap masterlist!]

YESSS!!! you get it!! i might be of the opinion that i think ageswap would make them even worse, if it's possible...🫢 i think sam would drink more demon blood, faster, because he also feels that he has to protect dean, and that's what i wrote below!

as a little treat, i may have written a little ficlet rewriting a few scenes from s4e16 "on the head of a pin" for that last paragraph--i hope you enjoy!!!! cw for gore!

dean knows he's going to die.

he knows this game, alastair's hands around his neck, and is just grateful he gets to keep his trachea in his throat, this time.

he thought he actually got out. he had reunited with sam, and sam had been fucking a demon, and heaven had wanted dean for some indefinite purpose. but dean had felt wrong-footed the whole time he's been top-side, as sam's eyes kept sliding right past him and onto the face of a demon, like dean hadn't ever been there.

dean's almost relieved that it's not real, that alastair is back here, that alastair is going to kill him, once again.

this is one of his favourite games, to kill dean, make it hurt, and then shove his offending body parts next to him and let them sew themselves back together. he likes blank canvases best, and when dean gets too torn up, he likes to kill him to remind him that dean can't even look to death for a reprieve.

dean's been killed more times by alastair in his life than the number of times sam has smiled at him. and oh, sam has smiled at him.

dean remembers shoving salt down alastair's throat, hearing alastair's screams. he must have dreamed it, dreamed of cas stealing him, and bringing him into this room.

this is the only thing that's real: alastair's hand on his neck, fingers crushing his windpipe. dean's fingers claw at his iron grip, but alastair is implacable. the second he got out of those chains, dean's life was over.

he can't see out of his right eye at all, swollen shut as it is. his blood drips onto alastair's fingers, and his entire face burns. his blood leaks sluggishly from the cuts caused by alastair's beating, no blood reaching his brain and causing the whole world to go sideways.

dean's hypoxic, and he knows this time he won't be revived. lights start sparking behind his eyes, and the last thing he'll see is alastair's vessel's face.

reality wavers, and dean can see the shape of the demon behind the skin, his True Face, and dean's mouth opens in a scream that gets trapped underneath alastair's fingers.

his heart slams against his ribs painfully, like if it beats hard enough, it can slam past the band cutting his brain off from oxygen.

sam, dean mind screams, as his body jerks. it's been his totem against bad dreams and monsters and fear itself since dean was born, and it's the only word his brain will conjure as his body fails him. sam.

a noise starts, a low rumble that shakes the room, a roaring in dean's ear that sounds like the screams of the damned. he's going to wake up on the rack, dean knows it, sam sam sam sam sam--

the door explodes inwards, and shadows shoot across the floor, the cement roiling like it's transformed into a pit of boiling tar. alastair's hand loosens, barely.

dean's dying, because he sees sam standing in the doorway--samsamsamsamsamsam--his beautiful big brother that can protect dean from everything.

that was one of alastair's favourite tactics when he was too bored to deal with dean personally. he'd send in a lesser demon dressed in sam's skin to set dean free, let dean hold his hand or sob in his arms or kiss him senseless as they fled, only for sam to jog to a stop, and turn around, and smile big-big-big-wrong.

here he is again, and dean is so grateful--like he always is, every time, even when he knows its a trap--to see his brother's face that his mouth twitches, the last movements of starving muscles.

the lights explode in their fixtures, the lazy, hazy sunlight filtering into the warehouse from high above snapping out like the sun getting plucked from the sky.

dean mouths sam's name, wants it to be the last thing he says, like it was the first time he died when sam held his insides, like it was when he formed his first word, eight months old.

and then--dean's on the floor.

castiel passes his brother, stumbling, and a knife is in alastair's shoulder. dean coughs, sputters, tries to get air into lungs that feel like worn-out elastic. the black ground parts around his hands, a perfect circle of clear concrete around dean like an island in an inky sea. little tendrils sneak around his hands, but don't touch him.

the salt of dean's tears make the split skin of his cheekbones sting, which cause even more tears to blur his vision, and the tendrils of black oil turn into smudges of charcoal.

alastair throws castiel off, whirls on him, but--dean blinks.

alastair's gone, and dean's head is pounding, and it takes him a second to find alastair pinned on the wall farthest from dean. sam's steps are slow, slinking, a panther approaching a fatally wounded gazelle. he stops between alastair and dean, stance wide, and dean could sob because he's starting to think that maybe this is sam, after all.

dean wants him to turn around, and he tries to call sam's name, but his throat is shredded.

sam has a flat hand held up in front of him, and alastair struggles against invisible binds that hold him against the cinderblocks.

words float to dean, from afar, but he has to focus to understand them.

"--kill a hundred, a thousand." alastair cackles. castiel is still panting, standing off to the side, and he looks dazed, sickly, like being in this room is killing him.

sam doesn't say anything in response, and alastair scoffs.

"oh, go ahead. send me back, if you can."

dean can't see sam's face, but he can see sam's left hand gather into a fist, nails pressing into his palm. he sees a flicker of uncertainty on alastair's face.

"i'm stronger than that, now. now i can kill." sam snarls. the shadows part around sam, curling around his calves like a pleased housecat. dean can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "now, i can make it hurt."

sam's hand crushes into a fist like he's crushing a can of soda. dean bites back a scream as alastair's vessel rends apart, a scream of pure agony made of something more than a human voice, exploding into golden light, too bright, so bright that dean buries his face against the floor and it still burns through his eyelids.

silence.

then, a shaking hand on his face.

sam, so close, bleeding so heavily from both nostrils that it coats his teeth as he mouths dean's name. dean can taste metal in his mouth, and the moist air smells like flesh. his ears ring, a continuation of a hell scream that'll never fade, that'll rattle in dean's ears forever.

dean, dazed, looks down at his own hands. a chunk of brain is sticky, splattered on the back of his wrist. dean casts a wild look around the room, at spots of alastair, chunks of meat, splattered outwards.

dean doesn't remember anything after that.

~~~

sam storms down the hallway after castiel.

dean's heart monitor beeps steadily, getting fainter as sam tears out of the room. he's furious that castiel dare show his face here, that it's taken him this long to show up and make it right.

the hospital is practically empty of visitors at this time of night, and sam knows he's only allowed to be here because of dean's age, because sam lied and said dean was seventeen, that sam was his legal guardian.

dean had looked it, looked even younger, crumpled and bloody and pale as death in sam's shaking arms.

and here castiel is, five hours late.

the angel slows, but sam is only gaining speed.

castiel stops in front of an empty hospital room, turning slowly to face sam. he looks unsure, as guilty as an angel can look--that is, almost perfectly blank.

sam stops on a dime, barely resisting the urge to take him to the ground and painfully recreate the beating that swelled dean's eye shut, that cut gashes across his lips, his forehead, his cheekbones.

sam's blood is so hot that he's shaking.

"get in there and heal him. miracle. now." sam snarls. the buzzing under his skin rises to fever pitch, makes sam itchy all over. he hates being this close to castiel. his grace--no, his self-assured righteousness, sam corrects--makes sam antsy and irritable at the best of times.

even without all of that, sam couldn't stand the look of him right now.

his failures. his failures make sam irritable.

his reckless endangerment.

"i can't." castiel says.

sam's vision tunnels, a wave of pure, unadulterated rage making the edges of the bright hallway go dark. sam puts a hand on cas's chest and shoves him back, forcing him into the empty room behind him and closing the door behind them.

the room is dark, except for the square of yellow light that falls through the observation window. sam whirls on castiel, teeth grinding together so hard that his jaw spasms.

"you did this." sam spits.

he knows he shouldn't escalate this. logically, he knows this. he might be powerful, but he's not powerful enough to take on an angel. most demons weren't strong enough to do that. but sam has never wanted to hurt anyone more than he wants to hurt castiel in this moment.

well, not anyone living. anyone sam's wanted to kill this badly is already dead.

"you and uriel put him in there--" castiel tries to protest, but sam powers through him, "--because you can't keep a simple devil's trap together."

castiel frowns.

"i don't know what happened. that trap...it shouldn't have broken. i am sorry."

castiel can eat his sorries. he can swallow them down his holy fucking throat. he can choke on them.

sam doesn't give a fuck.

the thing he put dean through--hell, the things he put sam through, the past twelve hours, scouring the nation for wherever castiel had taken his baby brother, the demon that ruby had summoned to cut into, just for the power to enter the fight--was unconscionable. soulless.

sam doesn't want castiel's apologies.

sam pulls himself to his full height, and glares down at the angel in front of him.

"i didn't want it to come to this, cas. but if a single angel puts my little brother in another dangerous situation--if you touch a hair on his fucking head, if i so much as hear a flap of feathers anywhere near him..."

sam has to take a deep breath, his voice wavering. the room brightens suddenly, and sam casts a look over his shoulder. nothing in the hallway is different, and sam realizes he brought the shadows with him, with each word, slipping underneath the door crack and lapping at the wood like hungry flames.

sam inhales shakily, and focuses back on castiel, whose face has darkened, squinting through sam like he can see his insides. sam takes a step forward. let him look.

sam wants him to see what sam will become to protect his little brother. what he's already become.

"if he died, i would have killed you. do you understand me?" sam keeps his voice level. calm. "he isn't yours. until you're ready to make this right, i don't want to see you."

sam turns around, walks back to the door.

"heaven does not tolerate threats, sam winchester." castiel says, "not from the likes of you."

sam turns his head, but does not turn around. if castiel wants to walk away from the body of his brother that cas himself had broken, sam doesn't trust himself to let him do it in one piece.

"how does heaven tolerate promises?" sam asks. he opens the door and light spills into the room, pools around sam's outline on the scuffed floor. "i haven't threatened you once."

he leaves castiel in the dark, and returns to his rightful place.

~~~

just saying that sam would get more powers quicker, bc he feels like he has to protect dean even more than he already does. he'd push himself farther than he already does in canon.

as for dean being a tease YUPPPPP. he nuzzles up to sam, can't get enough of being under his arm, of his shoulders smelling like sammy sweat. if he can't have sam to himself (s4, ruby), dean's going to show sam everything that he can't have, small shorts and flushed lips and fresh off of humping sam's pillow while he was out.

chapstick that tastes like green apple and sam's too-big shirt down to his thighs.

sam leaves dean as a fourteen year old and an eighteen year old dean comes swaggering onto campus and leering at jess like a blow up doll. sam's brain is tv static. he's still used to being overprotective of dean, but now it feels wrong as dean slides spit-slick smiles over the counter at their waitress. it make sam's skin sit wrong on his bones.

dean's encouraging sam to get laid, but to sam this is still his twelve-year-old little brother, especially since he didn't get to see the shift from first make-outs to having sex in the backseat of the impala. sam gave dean the "no glove no love" talk, but he's also nauseous as dean plays a game of grab ass with the pretty bartender in the alley behind the bar.

he literally has to hard-reboot his brain when dean walks into the diner to pick up their food and walks back out with a phone number on their receipt, grinning widely. sam almost goes back in to blow up on the cashier for hitting on his barely-eighteen jailbait little brother.

anywayyyyy! i'm sorry this was so late, but i did indeed rotate this around in my brain like that gif of jensen ackles in the microwave.

i hope you enjoyed! <3

-lizzy

[according2thelore]

WOAH

I saw that one post about how Sam acts like John when losing his loved ones and it's just 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😢😢😢😢😢😢

Sam - Daddy Issues

Dean - Mommy Issues

Like holy heck guys, how much more "in the family" can you keep it???????

hi, anon!!

ooh gosh, i don't know if i'll be able to find that post again. but yes! it's so true!

i think they both encapsulate different parts of both mommy issues and daddy issues (not to mention the capital, bold, shining Brother Issues they both have!), and as someone with literally no psychology authority and just talking about these characters as fictional entities they are, lol, i think:

dean has daddy issues that manifest as toxic cycle repeating, anxious preoccupied attachment towards sam, jealousy/territoriality, and seeking validation from older men. it's very important to him that he is Perceived^tm in a certain way, to the point that he is both painfully aware and completely refusing to see his own contradictions/hypocrisy. his mommy issues come out as poor communication, over-clinginess and control issues, toxic caretaking/surveillance, difficulty being vulnerable/intimate, and 0% conflict resolution.

sam's daddy issues with john show up in the need for reassurance and reactive abandonment when it's not provided, an almost willful lack of self-awareness, and choosing emotionally unavailable partners almost exclusively. his mommy issues usually show up as very low self-esteem, excessive independence, secretiveness, and difficulties with boundaries (either setting them at an extreme, or having none at all, or unwillingness to stand by them (ESP w/ dean, but also cas & ruby & bobby).

like!!!!!

i'm pretty sure that the post was discussing how in terms of losing their loved ones/being put under stress, sam reacts like john, and dean reacts like mary. they really turned their family into a circle, lmao!

they almost have issues with the parents they wish they could control, if that makes sense?

it makes me ponder an alternate universe where young mary becomes lucifer's vessel instead, young john's michael...🤔

in the family, indeed!

i'm so sorry for my late response, anon 😭 i hope your week is lovely!

-lizzy

[according2thelore]

dean should fuck sam’s tits

obviously

[according2thelore]

i have four events on my docket--one of them is due in december, and the rest are due much earlier.

guess which is the only one i have inspiration to work on rn? 🥲

[according2thelore]

mommy dean WIP

So... I didn't write anything for mommy dean monday but I spent the day working on this so... yeah. Happy Mommy Dean Monday!

(It's a short comic 3 pages long and this is only the first page so it's gonna take me some time...)

[according2thelore]

alpha sam’s knot which is huge and so, so sensitive.

his knots already last twenty to thirty minutes, which is the longest knot dean’s taken (he doesn’t have any experience with alpha knots except cassie, but sam doesn’t know that).

but when dean is in heat, delirious and panting and eyes glassy, and sam’s knot starts going down, the fucked out muscles in dean’s sloppy, come-slick hole flutter and twitch around sam’s knot ever-so-prettily, begging his knot not to go, and sam’s teeth grind as his knot swells a little again.

dean’s begging at this point, because it’s the third knot inflation in an hour, out of his mind and not knowing it’s his own greedy hole that’s begging for little-brother come. his head’s lolling, he’s crying—tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, but he’s insensible to them—his eyes cross a little when sam’s hips involuntarily jerk forward, instinct to shove his come as deep as it can go.

he’s a nerve ending for hours and hours and hours.

he begs, mewls, please sammy no more i can’t—hnnh—i can’t take it again.

and sam’s about to bite straight through his arm as dean clenched around his knot again, the fourth one, an orgasm that hasn’t ended in an hour and a half. he know dean’s saying something, but can’t understand him, every time he tries to pull out, and his heavy knot pulls at dean’s hole, dean mewls, legs hooking over his thighs and pulling him tighter. sam can’t see straight, can’t feel his legs, can’t see or hear or feel anything but the clench of dean’s cunt pulsing, and pulsing, and pulsing.

[according2thelore]

Sam and Dean spooning and Sam is thinking "huh this is surprising but nice" and Dean is just making sure that Sam won't leave him during the night

[according2thelore]

you cant even ship fictional brothers anymore... because of woke.

[according2thelore]

age swap sam and dean and bobby!! <D

[according2thelore]

CORDELL WALKER LEMME SUCK ON THEM HAIRY TITS

[according2thelore]

actually speaking of cock size (WHO was speaking of this. whatever) i truly and genuinely think sam has the bigger dick between the two of them. i think they get in a stupid argument about it and sam is super embarrassed but at some point he snaps back "are you kidding? you're mad that my dick is bigger? dude, you're twenty seven." and dean is like "so what? i lost the height battle when you turned into a fuckin' pine tree when i wasn't looking. why can't i have this?" and sam shoves himself back in his underwear and presses the heel of his palms into his eyes and says "i feel fifteen. you make me feel fifteen." and dean whistles and sam says "dean." and then dean says something stupid to deescalate and then they're cuddling again. or. or something.