#Sam on the bass straight up ready to ATTACK | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azrielwingspan · 9 days ago

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RED SERPENT (Mob!Bucky x f!reader)

MASTERLIST

Chapter 3- Backstabbers

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

"Shipment diverted. There's been no attack though. We made sure there was a leak about the cargo. Yet, no one showed up." Sam said at the briefing that morning.

Bucky listened, deep in thought. You could practically see the cogs in his brain working, trying to figure out a solution to this problem.

"But.." Sam continued on "I have a suspicion."

Here we go.

"Go on." Bucky said gruffly.

Clearing his throat, Sam seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking up "I think he's always one step ahead of us not due to lack of intelligence or skill on our part but rather due to...access to information."

You almost smiled at his very careful choice of words. It would be a direct hit to Bucky's ego if he had said it out straight. After all, Bucky handpicked the inner circle who knew mostly everything about the workings of his business. Well...everyone except you. You had been handpicked by his father. His last decision before he had passed away. A damn well good one at that or you thought so at least.

You could sense the change in Bucky's demeanor almost immediately. Silence plagued the room for the next five minutes and neither you nor Sam dared say anything. Your husbands anger could be quite explosive at times. Best to let him be.

After what seemed like ages, he finally spoke up. "Shut down cargo operations. I don't care how much money we lose. I'll take care of the mole."

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The bass boomed through the speakers making you aware of your own heartbeat. You were at one of the clubs that your family owned called Mordoe. Nodding to the bouncer stationed near the private rooms, you walked through the doorway, your silver satin dress reflected on the black marble floor. The short train swept the floor as you made your way upstairs to one of the private rooms where the meeting was to be held.

Bucky had summoned the inner circle for a quick meeting. You knew what it was really for though. He had been on edge the entire day, jaw clenched, fingers twitching at his side. It had been a bigger hit to his pride than you had expected. How could James Bucky Barnes not realize he trusted a fucking snitch. You almost smirked to yourself as you reached the meeting room.

Here's the start to a long bloody night.

The bodyguard outside the room opened the door, his face a blank canvas. Stepping into the room, your eyes darted around taking in the six figures present in the dimly lit room perfused with the smell of whisky and smoke.

Steve was the first one to meet your eyes, his head dropping into a small nod. "Hello, Rogers."

He gave a familiar smile. "Looking radiant as always, Y/N. How have you been?"

"Better I suppose. Ready for tonight?"

"Do I have another choice?"

The both of you looked towards where your husband was seated. He had his head bent and was talking to Sam, a cig dangling between his fingers. Almost like your gaze had alerted him, he lifted his head and looked right at you.

Handsome bastard.

There were days when his face took your breath away, made you stumble upon your thoughts and give you wild satisfaction that the man in front of you was yours.

His intense gaze pierced into yours for a few moments before looking away again. Tonight was going to be a blood bath fucking hell. Steve realized it as well and let out a deep sigh.

"Tonight..." the room dropped into pin drop silence as Buckys' voice cut through. He spoke and everyone listened, always. "Tonight...I want to introduce to everyone a new member."

You tried to keep the shock and confusion off of your face. This was out of the blue. He wouldn't just add someone to his inner circle, especially when he knew there was an active mole.

"Some of you may know him. He's decided to join hands with me for a...short period of time. He'll he here in a few minutes but I wanted to tell you all that no fucking violence tonight. Got it?"

The fuck is happening?

He went back to his whisky and cig. Confusion swirled through your mind but you kept the rush of thoughts at bay. Walking towards him, you sat down on the table facing him. Sam walked away, his face etched in confusion as well.

"James..." Bucky took a sip of his whisky as he looked at you, face giving nothing away.

"What are you upto?"

"Didn't you listen to a word I said earlier, doll?"

"Don't you think it's too dangerous to bring someone in? Especially someone we don't know?"

"Oh believe me..." a hint of mania lit up his eyes as he spoke. "You know him, alright."

Your heart thudded in your chest as your intuition kicked in. This was bad. He had figured something out. Not the entire plan but a piece of it at least. Did he already know that it was you? Was he trying to get you to confess?

"Have a seat. It's going to be an interesting night."

You dropped into the seat next to him, face impassive. Your mind was flitting through all the possible scenarios. One wrong move and you could end up dead. You might be his wife but that didn't excuse you from the consequences of being disloyal.

His hand came to rest on your thigh and you tried to stay relaxed. Anxiety was coursing through your veins, the clock ticking towards a certain doom.

"Everything alright?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sinister. Or was that a figment of your imagination?

Turning to look at him, eyes colliding, you gave him a small smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Lies.

His eyes danced with unrestrained humor as he kept his gaze on yours.

"Just making sure." he said dropping a kiss on your shoulder. It would have been intimate if it weren't for the smirk stuck on his face.

This fucking mother---

The door opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding painfully against your chest. It's all gone to shit. Everything you'd planned and prepared. Everything you'd worked so hard for. Gone to shit.

Alexander Pierce entered the room a smug smile on his face as he looked around at the astounded faces in the room. It was quite comical really. Steve looked at everyone else to make sure that they were seeing the same thing.

But the most concerning issue of all was the way your husband was looking at you. You could feel his gaze drilling into the side of your face noting every minute reaction.

"What are you doing?" you ask him voice lowered.

"You look quite...flushed from this angle."

He stood up suddenly, his voice cutting through the shock encompassing the room.

"Alexander. Good to have you here."

Speak for yourself, dickhead.

"Mr.Barnes, never thought I'd see this day." They shook hands as everyone watched on with guarded expressions.

"Let me get straight to the point. I know all of you are used to seeing him work for the other side. However, tonight onwards, Alexander Pierce is our man. He has been reporting to me for the past few weeks and will continue to do so. Thanks to him, we've been able to capture the fool who attacked our warehouses. He's proven his loyalty to me and will be rewarded accordingly."

What.the.actual.fuck.

He had played you. He played you so well, you fell right into the trap that your loving husband had set.

No one spoke for a minute. You bet this never happened even in their wildest dreams.

Bucky went on. "Now onto another little problem. There's a snitch among us. One of you in this room has forgotten where your loyalty lies. It's quite unfortunate really but the consequences must be paid. Our new friend here." he says gesturing to Pierce. "will help us exterminate the pest. Saves me money and time. I really hoped it wasn't from the five of you but...here we are."

Your hand clenched into a fist. The bastard had openly declared that he didn't trust his own wife. Anxiety was replaced with anger. He was stripping you of your dignity as well.

"That will be all. Enjoy your evening." Alexander and him went off to a side to talk quietly as you remained stuck to your seat. Steve was the first to approach you.

"Did you know?" he asked still looking a bit dazed.

"How the fuck would I know? Do you think I would have let this happen?" you spoke through clenched teeth, eyes trained on your husband and his new pet.

"Just asking, sorry. Do you think he's losing his mind?"

Your head snapped towards Steve's eyes blazing. "These...circumstances might be new, Rogers but the next time you talk about my husband that way...Pierce will be the least of your problems."

His eyes flashed with alarm as he raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry..I'm still a little alarmed. We've been hunting him down for as long as i can remember. suddenly, he just appears? I'm just worried that he has a bigger plan that's playing out.

You pondered on his thoughts for a minute. It was true. Pierce had hard to catch unless he wanted to be. Where and how did this partnership with Bucky start?

"You're right...but Pierce is nothing compared to James. If anything, I'm worried about James not telling us something. There's something much much bigger happening and we're blind to it...for now."

Sam approached the both of you and leaned in to speak in a low tone. "Up until now, I thought I knew everything...I guess not."

You rubbed your temple as a headache started to set in. "I'll speak to him. See if I can get an idea of where his head is at right now."

Sam shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"What?" you asked, an underlying edge of annoyance tinging your voice.

"No offense to you ma'am but...he did make it sound like you.." he trailed off but enough was said.

A tinge of red blossomed on your cheeks. "Well...that is there I suppose. A couple of nights on the couch should set him right."

Steve stifled a snort. The array of emotions going around sent your head spinning. You had to sort this out and fast.

"Mrs.Barnes" a voice spoke from behind Steve and Sam. Alexander Pierce stepped into view, a knowing smirk on his face. "Pleasure meeting you...again."

Fuck.

Chapter 4

TAGLIST:

@ordelixx @mrsnikstan @scott-loki-barnes @marvel-wifey-86 @tenderly-hopeful-collection

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wafflewarriors · 4 years ago

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Never Fear (The Winchesters Are Here)

As a Kite

"Dean?!"

"Right here, kid. Right here," he yelled from below. His words were steady, but his heart was not. "You able to get down?" He was pacing, though he didn't stray too far from you.

You shuddered, held tighter to the inclined platform, and shouted down, "No." Most of your weight was on the backboard of the basketball hoop, which was held up horizontally by pulleys on the ceiling. It was a twenty foot drop from where you sat, which was a fatal fall—or worse, paralyzing. If Bobby was any indication, that wasn't fun.

"Do you want me to come up there?" He was already gauging the structure, figuring out how to get to you.

"No," you said miserably, stopping him. Because what would that do? Then you'd both be stuck up here.

"Okay, okay, just—" A loud banging from outside the gymnasium cut him off.

The minotaur was close.

"Dean, you need to get out of here," you urged.

A minotaur was not something you wanted to tango with unless you had the right weapon. They were bulls on steroids. If your research sessions with Sam had taught you anything, it was that bullets were hardly going to tickle this thing.

Dean edged closer. "No way." He was both frustrated and scared for you. "How did you even get up there?"

"Do you really not see the person sized hole in the ceiling?!"

"I see it, I just—" another banging rattled against the gym's doors, which made you both flinch. "I fail to see how you always end up in these kinds of situations!"

"Better this than five feet in any other direction!" Ironically, you were very lucky to land on the basketball hoop, and not straight down onto the polished hardwood floor.

"Right, I forgot. You're the luckiest unlucky person I've ever met, and that's saying something, considering I've met myself."

You snorted, but it felt forced.

Dean paced, raking a hand through his messy hair and looking desperately around the gym. Then, he abruptly stopped, muscles tensing as an idea came to him. "I got an idea, but you're not gonna like it," he said. "At all." He began walking over to the doors.

"Dean?" No reply. "Dean?!"

For a second, you thought he was going to open the doors for the minotaur, but then he paused right in front of the control panel and picked open the lock. "Do you trust me?!" he shouted across the gym. Even from so far away, the look in his eyes was intense.

"I—yes—but Dean—!"

He flipped a switch.

Without warning, the hoop lurched into motion. You scrambled, clutching onto any handhold for dear life as the backboard slowly got steeper. "DEAN?!"

"Easy, easy, I'm right here." He was beneath you again, watching your every move.

You were tense, heart beating against your ribs like a bat in a cage. "A little warning would have been nice!"

"Trust me, okay? Just sit tight, I'll catch you if you fall. You're going to be okay, you hear me?" His arms were ready just in case you slipped.

The hoop was halfway down when the wooden gym door shattered.

The minotaur had rammed through it, having heard your commotion, and it was huge. It had horns as long as your entire leg; beady, soulless eyes; and clouds of dust stirring from its flared nostrils.

Your blood ran cold. "Run!" You kicked your right leg for emphasis, despite the risk of falling.

Dean hesitated.

The minotaur charged, leaving Dean barely enough time to roll out of the way.

It's horns drove deep into the hardwood where he missed, tearing up the floor like butter.

Somewhat of a silence overcame the room, only to be filled by your hoop noisily clanking in place.

The minotaur paused, reared its massive head around to look at you, and growled.

For once, you were glad to be high up.

Until it stood, that is. It was at least nine feet tall, horns adding an extra few feet to its height. It could most certainly ram its head into the hoop and kill you.

Dean's eyes were blown wide as he made the same conclusion. "Hey, you!" he shouted, pulling out his gun. "Pick on someone your own size!" And he shot it point blank.

As predicted, it just made it angry—except, it was too stupid to know who to be angry at. Funny, since it had nested in a freaking public school—because apparently they were the modern day labyrinths. But mostly not funny, considering it attacked you.

It roared, and the entire gym trembled.

Dean booked it for the doors. You couldn't blame him, but... man, that was cold.

The minotaur stomped toward you until you could feel its furious breath in your face, its grunts sending all your hair flying back. This was it.

Without warning, everyone—including the minotaur—stopped to listen to another obnoxious creaking which overcame the room.

You were like a statue, still staring into the dark eyes of the beast, not even daring to turn your head in the direction of the sound.

The minotaur flared its nostrils once more, pivoting on an angry hoof to look at the basketball hoop that was slowly but surely descending from the other side of the gym.

Your heart lifted, and you spotted Dean beaming at you from the control panel, probably high on relief.

You gestured around you. Excellent work, but don't get too smug, now. We still gotta get me out of here.

Dean mouthed one word, pointing to his phone: 'Sam.'

Well, that was good news. If Sam was on his way, then he probably had a weapon to kill it.

You both jolted as the minotaur slammed its monstrous head into the adjacent hoop and ripped it to shreds. Glass and plastic the size of plates dropped and shattered on the surrounding floor. All that was left were the beams that once held the backboard.

That would have been me.

Dean ran to you—having set off the third, fourth, and fifth hoop—and urgently mimed for you to jump into his arms.

You mimed back that, no, that was not something you could do. But you paused, his words from before coming back to you. Do you trust me?

And, yeah, you trusted him. You trusted him with your life.

So you clamped a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming and pushed yourself off of the hoop.

Dean caught you with bent knees, cushioning the impact of your landing. One hand supporting your legs, and the other catching your back. He set you down, and, locking eyes, gave you a proud nod before turning a wary head toward the minotaur.

The hoops still occupied it, as it violently bashed its head into one hoop after another. Glass rained down in sheets, gliding dangerously on the polished ground until there was a small mountain of glass surrounding the minotaur.

You tried to stand—to get away—but your knees were weak.

Dean noticed, slipping your arm over his shoulder, hauling you up, and guiding you to the emergency exit all in one move. His priority was you.

You held your breath as a heavy rumble reverberated from outside the exit. At the moment, you wanted to strangle Sam for the worst timing ever.

You and Dean shared looks, glancing back at the minotaur who was aware of you once more.

Dean scooped you up, not even bothering to deal with your uncooperative legs, and tore his way to the exit. He barreled through the door, tumbling onto the concrete, with you falling out of his arms.

You watched, stunned, as the minotaur rammed at the door. It's horns were too large, locking in inside the building, for even it, for now, was no match for the sturdy brick that held it in place.

Dean interrupted your daze by breaking into a random fit of laughter. There he was, on the ground of a wet, public school parking lot, throwing his head back and enjoying himself for no obvious goddamn reason.

You weren’t sure whether to be concerned or laugh with him. "What the hell is so funny?"

"S—" he could barely spit it out. He couldn't breathe. "S-Sam's got a—ahaha—aha—hehehe's got a—haha—"

You turned to see what on earth Sam had and felt your eyebrows rise to your hairline as you watched a freaking wrecking ball crane align itself with the gym.

You had heard of the Winchesters 'borrowing' equipment, but this was next level. Where had he come across a wrecking ball?

And that bass you had heard from before? As Sam came nearer, it became more distinct.

Your jaw dropped.

Sam was blasting the song ‘Wrecking Ball’.

Dean's howling laughter only became louder as Sam drove closer.

You could tell Sam was smirking, obviously aware of what he was doing to Dean. As Sam hit the brakes, you could see him grin and chuckle—oh he was patting himself on the back for this one.

The minotaur, dumb as a rock, was still slamming itself at the doorway. If it had any brains, it would know to get out of the way because something much larger was about to come through those doors.

Dean eventually sighed, wiping tears, sitting up to watch the demolition.

"You think the cops'll show?" you asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nah. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be blasting music at midnight for the entire neighborhood to hear with a wrecking ball crane on school premises." He stood and offered you a hand.

You took it. "Good point."

The wrecking ball collided with the doorway. It caught the minotaur by the chest, crushing every bone in its body.

"If it isn't the Winchesters. And... Winchest-ee."

Crowley.

"Did I miss the party?" When you both glared at him, he smiled. "Is Sam enjoying his little gift?"

"You gave it to him?"

Crowley hummed. "I'm letting him borrow it. In exchange for one minotaur."

"You want the dead minotaur?" you asked. "Why?"

"I'm going to mount it on my wall." Crowley shrugged.

"That's… it? Taxidermy?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Yes. Do I need a better reason? It's cool. Obviously, I want it in Hell. Why, did you expect I'd want his soul or something? Well... of course, I want his soul, but that would never happen. We all know he's smarter than that, Dean, no need to go full mama bear."

Once Sam dismounted the wrecking ball crane, it vanished with a dark smoke.

Crowley sighed. "Well, I suggest you skip town—I’m expecting the school won't be happy about your renovation." Crowley began walking toward the now destroyed exit, disappearing into the dust and not walking back out.

Sam made his way over, smirking at the ground with his hands in his pockets. "So, how did it go for you guys?"

"Horrible."

"Great."

Sam was glancing between you both. "Well, someone's lying."

You shot Dean an odd look. "If you count me getting stuck on a basketball hoop twenty feet in the air with a minotaur trying to kill us, then you have a twisted idea of 'great'."

"Oh, c'mon, you handled it like a champ."

Sam's eyebrows quirked. "You were on the basketball hoop?"

"I fell through the cheap ceiling."

Dean snorted. "Guess they needed a renovation anyway."

You socked him in the shoulder. "You're an idiot."

"You love me."

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huntertales · 6 years ago

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Part Three: The Book Thief. (Everybody Hates Hitler S08E13)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the death of a Rabbi who spontaneously combusted. The case becomes ever more confusing when they learn that the Rabbi was researching Nazi Necromancers. The trio are attacked by a Golem who turns out to belong to the Rabbi’s grandson, Aaron. The key to the case lies with the Golem but Aaron doesn’t know how to control him, which leaves everyone in danger. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,975.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

A little note: I added German into this part along with translations that are going to be marked with a * at the end to help make things easier to understand. I don’t know a single word in German and relied on Google Translate to help. So if I’ve severely fucked it up, sorry to all my fellow German speakers!

You liked to think you knew libraries pretty well; from spending your late teens into your early twenties in one for hours at a time, several days a week to do research and other times for your own personal enjoyment. You got to know the structure and how they organized things pretty well after a while, you even thought about going to college to become a librarian to make something of your life. You loved books and thought it would be worthwhile to spend your days being paid to roam around a place you spent a majority of your time in beside your house. But then hunting fell in your lap and this was where you ended up in your career, breaking and entering into the college library to find a book that a man was killed for by a bunch of Nazi necromancers.

It was normal for you and the boys to bend the rules wherever you went, it was part of the job you learned not to feel so bad about. Aaron, however, felt a little weird when he realized he was trespassing on college ground after hours. You and the boys didn’t react much about making sure not to get caught when you made little effort to see if there was any security or anyone else around that might spot you. You were the first one in, the boys followed behind as Aaron trailed behind, who was a little hesitant to be part of breaking the law.

"What, do three just break in wherever you go?" Aaron couldn’t help himself but ask, his golem following behind him, making the giant the last one to step inside.

“Yeah, well,” Dean opted for the sarcastic reply when he put away his lockpick back into a safe spot for next time he’d need it. “our dad wanted us to have a solid career to fall back on just in case this hunter thing didn’t pan out.”

You looked around the library and spotted the directory of the place, telling you every section of this place and what level to find it on. You skimmed the many different subjects the library had to offer until you find the science one, which was on the second floor. "Okay, so if I'm right, then I think your grandfather switched manuscript FD113 out of the archives.”

You told the boys that you'd be right back, thinking it would only take a few minutes for you to find the book on your own while they waited for you to return. You jogged up the staircase and made your way to the second level of the library that was eerily quiet like you suspected, finding the science section that got you started on your hunt for the book. You weren't exactly sure what you were looking for as you walked past dozens of bookshelves with hundreds of books that were properly protected with a little white sticker to help keep track of them. All you needed to do was find one that wasn't like the rest. It shouldn't have been too hard.

You skimmed a few more shelves until you found the section you were looking for and made your way between them, skimming the many spines to find the one that was missing. You furrowed your brow slightly as you tediously read each one, until you noticed a leather bound book that was unmarked, seeming to be hiding in a spot where someone would find a book on bird watching. You took a chance by grabbing the book off the shelf to find that it was much heavier than you realize. And would soon know you weren’t the only one up here looking for such an important thing that was worth killing for.

As you were about to open it up and see what was inside, you found your hand moving from the book and to the crook of your neck when you suddenly felt almost like a pinching pain. Like you were stabbed with a needle. Your fingers brushed against something small, the slightest pressure you put on it made you wince, and with a forceful tug, you pulled it out of your skin. You lifted it up to see that it appeared to be one of those small darts you'd seen in plenty of adventure movies where the hero was shot with from a stranger in the shadows.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen, but when you felt your body starting to feel weaker and the room spinning, you had a feeling you weren’t going to pass out. The pain in your neck from where you were shot started to grow worse as it began to change into a dark purple color that you didn't notice. You were too busy trying to stand up and make it out of here alive.

You felt yourself stumbling backwards into one of the shelves as you felt yourself growing even more dizzer. You forced yourself to inhale a deep breath and pull yourself together long enough before you could get another dose of the poison. When you were first hunting after you got back into your own state of mind you didn’t face any real danger you couldn’t get out of. But why was it once you got pregnant you were finding yourself on the chopping block more than ever?

One thing was for sure, there was no way in hell you were dying before you gave birth, especially not at the hands of a damn Nazi. You forced yourself to start walking out of here fast as you could, but you didn't make it very far when you came face to face with your attacker.

“I owe you thanks.” You saw a man come out from behind a bookshelf, holding what appeared to be the weapon that hit you with the dart. As he got ready to load it once more, you blinked, watching everything around you start to grow even more blurry. By the thick German accent, you had a feeling you had finally met one of Nazis who killed Isaac Bass. "The rabbi got me this far, but you...took me all the way. Now, give me the ledger."

"Beißen Sie mich, Nazi-Abschaum.*" You might be dying from whatever kind of poison that he gave you, but you would never pass up the opportunity to bad mouth one of the worst people the world had ever seen. You smirked to yourself before you roughly used all the strength that you had to kick a book trolley into him, buying you some time to get out of here before it was too late. Somehow you managed to stagger to the top of the staircase and weakly called out for the boys attention to tell them what was going on. “Help! N-necromancer!"

*Bite me, Nazi scum.

Sam saw you struggling to make it down the stairs on your own, prompting him to push himself up to his feet and race up fast as he could to figure out what was going on. The book you had found was nestled underneath the crook of your arm as you did everything you could to make sure it was still close after you managed to get away. Sam managed to catch you when you felt your knees buckle underneath your weight. Dean wasn't too far behind his brother as he pulled out his gun, having a feeling he was gonna need it in a moment.

Sam shifted your limp body to try and figure out what was happening to you and why you were growing sickly pale. He noticed something on the side of your neck that seemed out. Brushing away a bit of hair, he noticed a patch of your skin was turning into a concerning shade of deep purple that almost appeared to be a bruise. There was a tiniest puncture hole just below your jaw, making it almost seem like you were pricked with a needle. What the boys were seeing wasn't a bruise at all, it was a side effect of something. You must have somehow been injected with a poisonous spell and it was spreading through your body—and fast.

Dean noticed for himself about how badly you were handling whatever kind of supernatural spell you were hit with while you were alone. The purple color was starting to spread up your jaw and down your neck. You were barely holding on as Sam heard your groans from the pain you were in, making him fearful if him or his brother didn't do something soon it might be too late. But the boys were about to have one more person to worry about from what happened next.

The boys had been so focused on your well-being they forgot for a split second the enemy was still without eyes on him, giving a perfect opportunity to strike again. It was when Aaron let out a painful noise of his own that made them realize he was hit by a dart, but before Dean could see who it was, they disappeared from sight. Aaron fell right to the ground; the poison working quicker than either of them were expecting.

“Crap!” Dean repeated himself when he realized things had turned from bad to worse. He didn’t want to leave you and his brother alone in fear that someone else might get hurt. There was someone Dean had to count on. He looked to the golem and made use of him. “Hey, big guy, they're both gonna die unless we get whoever cast the spell.”

The golem seemed to understand this was a life or death situation for Aaron and yourself when he went running up the stairs to where the person who caused this. Sam shifted your body around so you were at least sitting somewhat straight up while you rested against him. Your body language and symptoms showed no signs this thing was slowing down. Dean let out a frustrated sigh, a sense of dreadful panic coming over him at the sight of you, knowing he was a sitting duck while he looked over you and Aaron.

All was quiet for a minute or so, making the boys unsure of what was going on, and if letting a giant made out of a lump of clay was a such a good idea in the first place. Dean contemplated on heading up there for himself to see if he could fix this problem once and for all. Before he could do so, the sudden echoing noises of banging against metal made the boys look up straight ahead and to the top of the staircase, wondering what the hell was going on up there.

Dean slowly pushed himself up to his feet and cautiously peered up to the second to see if he might get a glimpse at the action going on. When he heard footsteps, Dean quickly pointed his loaded gun at the top of the stairs, ready to shoot anyone who came down. However he found himself lowering it slightly at the sight of the person who was to blame for all of this as he was being dragged across the floor by the back of his jacket before the golem dropped him down on one of the steps. The necromancer had taken a few rough blows to the head, but it seemed he was still conscious long enough to lift his head up just enough to give the brothers his dying words.

"Long live the Thule." The necromancer spoke his dying words in a thick German accent, his lips stretching into the kind of smirk that made it almost seem like he was going to get out this as the winner here. But that wasn’t the case when the golem didn’t waste a second in twisting his neck it an inhumanly possible angle, making the boys flinch slightly at the sound of bones snapping.

"Or not." Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Now that the necromancer was dead it meant that whatever sort of spell he put on you and Aaron should start wearing off. Sam noticed the coloring of your skin was starting to go back to normal as the deep purple started to fade away. You felt the effects of the poison starting to wear off as you began to become aware of your surroundings and feeling better than you had just a few minutes ago. While your neck still ached from the dart, you were alive and well, which was more you could say than the dead necromancer lying face down on the ground.

Dean made his way over to you and crouched back down on the ground so he was now back at your level, relief coming over him at the sight of you looking a little more human again. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"I've had better days." You admitted to the boys. You managed to get yourself up to your feet with the help of Sam, making sure to grab the leather bound book that had been worth the fuss from all the trouble you went through to find it. "But we've got the book. And one of the bastards is dead. I'd call it a successful night."

Dean felt himself breathing a little easier knowing you were slowly getting back to your normal self. He directed his attention to the dead body all of you needed to dispose of still and Aaron, who was taking a little longer to recover than you had. You still felt a little dizzy as you made your way down the stairs, Sam made sure to help you before you could take a tumble and hurt yourself even more tonight. While Dean checked on Aaron and the golem took care of the necromancer he killed, you and Sam made your way to the door, the both of you were a good distance away from everyone to talk in private.

He shook his head as he stared down at you, but you could tell from the look on his face that little scare earlier had shaken him up slightly, his mind fearing the worst outcome. “Why do I get the feeling I don’t want you leaving my sight for the rest of these six months?”

“It’s okay, Sammy.” You reassured the man. You nestled the leather bound book underneath the crook of your arm, the size big enough to hide when you pressed your other hand against your stomach, feeling the outline of your growing bump that was starting to becoming more prominent each day. The one that you'd do anything to protect, but also knew wasn't going to stop you just yet from doing what you've always wanted. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a necromancer to take me down.”

+ + +

A little while later in the middle of nowhere you sat on the hood of the Impala and watched the boys dig a grave for the necromancer that would soon becoming nothing more than ash. You were feeling more yourself now, but it was taking Aaron a little longer to come back around. He eventually did after the grave was dug and the boys were ready to throw the body into the hole. The sound of Aaron shifting around in the backseat made you look behind to see he was sitting up now, wincing in pain at the area where he was shot with the dart.

"The Men of Letters healed you." The golem told Aaron. "They saved your life."

"Don't be so modest, big guy." You said, turning your attention to the golem as you gave him a small smile. "If it wasn't for you, the both of us would be dead."

You turned your head back forward to watch as the brothers dropped their shovels to the ground and grabbed each end of the dead body that was covered in a white sheet for the sake of not getting the car covered in blood after the golem hit the necromancer's head a few too many times. Aaron watched from the backseat as the boys dropped the dead body into the hole they just dug, prompting him to ask what they were doing. You crossed your arms over your chest and casually replied they were burying the necromancer. Well, that was really only part of it.

You've been apart of the ritual of burning the body to keep it from coming back to life, becoming unfazed by the sight of the boys grabbing a few gas canisters and pouring some into the freshly dug grave, probably talking among themselves about what to do with the golem, another problem you were going to have to deal with after taking down this Thule society. Dean finished up things by striking a match and throwing it into the hole, igniting a fire that lit up the night, and prompting Aaron to freak out slightly from what he was witnessing.

“Oh, my God." Aaron muttered to himself. "These guys are psychopaths."

You chuckled quietly at his reaction to the things that he were seeing that was unsettling to the normal bystander. Aaron had a giant man made out of clay and his grandfather was murdered by necromancer Nazis to get a hold of a book that you still weren't sure was so important. You were pretty sure he was far behind the line of what normal was anymore.

+ + +

The next morning you and the boys were back at the motel Aaron was renting to see what you could find out about this book. Everything was written in German making it hard for Sam to figure out anything and would require him to translate it to English. However, he almost forgot that you knew more than English and Latin. You spent a little while flipping through the pages and loosely translating the words to see what it was. While you were a tiny bit rusty on your German, you got the gist of what you were reading was about the horrors that went on decades ago. And why the Thule society wanted it back so badly.

Dean made a coffee run into town since there wasn't much he could really do at the moment. The man avoided research like it was the plague, only doing it when he absolutely had to. You sent him off to be useful by grabbing some caffeine and breakfast while you and his brother worked together in trying to figure out what made the book so important. A short while after he left, you moved your gaze away from the laptop screen and to the door when you saw Dean had come back with a tray of paper cups and a box of what you presumed was breakfast.

“What did you guys find out?” Dean asked,

"If my translations are correct, I think it's a logbook from a Nazi compound in Belarus." You told the man, grabbing the cup he sent down for you and sliding it forward. "It was run by the Thule."

"This is the red ledger." Aaron said. He had wanted to take a look for himself at the book that was the reason why his grandfather was dead and he was dragged into this situation in the first place. Dean took off his jacket and dropped himself in the empty seat to get himself comfortable. "It was lost in the fire that destroyed the compound, but my grandfather was convinced it had been found after the war."

“Well, it describes the horrible experiments performed on the camp’s population...magical experiments.” You explained to them. You let out a sigh as you stared at the laptop screen where you had already translated a passage before while reading, you just wanted to double check your work to be sure. “Manchmal denke ich, dass Menschen die echten Monster sind.* I mean, what these people went through...”

*Sometimes I think humans are the real monsters.

You've seen evil up close and personal during your few decades of being alive that weren’t for the faint of heart, along with going to hell twice. Not to mention the sick and horrifying things that happened to you that still gave you nightmares to this day. All of that was consequences of what you knew was going to happen, done by creatures that tortured your life was created by the devil himself, their souls were tweaked and sculpted to be heartless and cruel. But humanity...it was something you still didn't understand. And probably never will.

You had people like Hitler and Nazis who outed a group of people based upon their own religion or didn't fit into what they thought was the "perfect" race. Hate groups for people who didn't share the same skin color, who loved someone of the same gender. Anyone who didn't fit into their ideal mindset was a problem that deserved to be wiped out. Nobody deserved to be treated as if they were nothing because they didn’t fit into someone’s ideas and had their lives tortured because of something so significant. You made your own misery, you had time to come to terms with what you did. But not these people who were hauled off and dragged to concentration camps were they most likely were shot and killed if they were lucky.

Those who survived were forced to live through horrifying conditions, treated like guinea pigs for these sick bastards for their experiments and enjoyment. What you wouldn't do to personally put a bullet in their brains. Nazis and ideas alike was what real evil was all about. You could kill everyone still remaining alive today, but you couldn’t destroy the ideology behind their thinking. Much as you would love to. Evil comes in different forms, and they were just one of many.

"More horrible than words." The golem seemed to have finished your thought when you found yourself trailing off. You looked over to see the giant was standing towards the kitchen window, falling silent once more. You furrowed your brow slightly from what he said, making you wonder if all this talk about the holocaust and its tragedies hit close to him. As if he witnessed the horrors himself.

“You were there, weren’t you?” Sam found himself asking. “At the camp?”

“I was made in the ghetto of Vitsyebsk to tear that hell down. I broke its wall, its men.” The golem said, turning around to face the four of you before he went on. “The commandant burt the place to ash around me.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “what does it mean when you tell Aaron to take charge?”

“The boy would know…” The golem said. His gaze fell to the young man sitting in front of him, a hardened expression fell over his face. “if he could consult the pages.”

"Pages?" Dean found himself repeating after the giant. "What pages?"

Aaron swallowed slightly when he felt everyone’s attention shift towards him. "When I was as bar mitzvahed, my grandfather gave me this little old book. It was in Hebrew. It was like an owner's manual for a golem." Aaron explained to you and the boys about what the golem was talking about. You raised your brow slightly from what you were hearing, giving you a false sense of hope when you thought the tension between Aaron and the golem could be solved if he found this book. Aaron let out a sigh, knowing it wasn't that easy. Because there was no book to be found. "I can’t….exactly. When I went to high school, I sort of drifted. I started getting off the academic track, and, uh, I kind of...I kind of smoked it.”

All of you did a lot of stupid things when you were in high school, but Aaron had to take the cake. You found yourself shaking your head slightly from what he admitted to. The golem wasn't the least bit amused at the confession he heard. "The boy smoked the pages."

"They were these thin, vellum-y pages. I mean, it was perfect for rolling. Look, they were driving instructions for a clay man. Okay? It was nonsense. Right? I mean..." Aaron tried to defend himself about the decisions and actions that he chose when he was in his teens. He chuckled nervously when he realized how bad it was when he said it out loud. "Okay. All right. Look, I'm sorry, okay? Why can't you just tell me what I don't know?!”

You made the rightful decision to get out of your chair to grab one of the pastries Dean brought back. You made it a few steps out of the way before the golem lurched forward, slamming his hands down on the table so he was now staring Aaron directly in the eye, finally having had enough of the boy's childish behavior. "It's not my place to guide the rabbi, to teach the teacher! It's not my place! Yifalchunbee!"

“Gut! Beruhigen!*” You commanded to the golem when you found yourself becoming overwhelmed with frustration at the constant bickering between him and Aaron. All though you didn't know Hebrew, you had a feeling the golem understood German as well. You gave the giant a look of your own when he turned his head towards you before he walked off. You scoffed to yourself and reached for a donut. "Ich werde dir ein oder zwei Dinge beibringen, du Lehmklumpen.*”

*All right! Calm down!

*I’ll teach you a thing or two, you lump of clay.

"That's not super-comforting," Dean said, his lips stretching into the smallest smile from what just went down. Aaron seemed a little shaken up himself, and guilty at what he couldn't do. You tried lending out a helping hand much as you could, but your talents and expertise didn't cover Hebrew. Or Jewish religion for that matter on how to control a golem Dean got himself up from his seat to join you at the counter, grabbing himself something sweet to pair with his coffee. "Did you happen to translate anything else that could be at least useful?”

“Kind of. As far as I can tell, these experiments—the thule were murdering jews, gypsies—just about anybody and everybody—then trying to magically reanimate them. They were trying to figure out a way to bring their own dead back to life. Which I'm guessing they figured out because—this." You put your cup down on the counter and walked over to the table, grabbing the heavy book and flipping to the end. "This last page is a roster of every dead Thule member who was reanimated.”

"This is why they killed my grandfather?" Aaron asked, you shrugged your shoulders. This was much bigger than either one of you had realised. Not only was it almost like a scientific journal for necromancy and their experiments, it was a hitlist you could use to track down every thule member that might still be alive today. To them, it was worth all the blood they would have to spill in order to get it back into their rightful hands.

it would be worth the blood they would have to spill to get it back in their hands.

“Anything in there on how to kill it?” Dean wondered.

“Apparently they experimented with that, too. Headshot.” You said. The bit of information was going to be useful if you ever went up against one of these people, it wasn't going to put them down for good. “But if you don’t burn the body within twelve hours, it reanimates again.”

"Nazi bastards.” The older Winchester muttered underneath his breath, finding all of what he was hearing about this society skin crawling.

You didn't need another reason to take them down once and for all. Before you could take on an enemy big as a secret society, you needed to learn more about them. Along with the instructions on how to control a golem, and worst case scenario, how to stop it.

+ + +

Sam spent some time trying to find out anything about golems while you stuck with the Thule society, hoping the internet could provide you with at least something to give you a clue of what they were besides evil at its worst. But it didn’t give you anything at all. You grew frustrated at the lack of findings you were getting, Dean decided to call around the hunters he knew and try his luck with Garth, who had trouble understanding what the man was saying.

"No, no, Garth, not a tool society—'Thule—T-h-u-l-e. Yeah. All right. Call me if you find anything." Dean finished up his call with the hunter who had been looking over Kevin for you and playing Bobby as well. He dropped down the duffel bag full of weapons all of you would need soon enough once you knew more about this secret society. But it was risky when you didn't know almost nothing about them, besides how they were evil bastards. "All of Garth's contacts are stumped. Nobody on the circuit's ever heard of 'the Thule society.' Whoever these people are, they've been flying beneath the hunter radar. Anything with you guys?"

You shook your head no at the lack of information you could provide, knowing if Garth didn't know anything, you highly doubt you were going to be able to come up with anything. You rubbed your eyes in frustration when you felt a headache coming on, along with the urge to be sick. What you wouldn’t do right now to be back at the bunker where you had an extensive library and your disposal and the comfort of your own bed to relax.

“Nothing solid. I mean, the lore is all over the place.” Sam said. “According to one legend, it can be shut down if you erase the letters off its forehead.”

“I didn’t see any letters on clayface.” Dean said. He shrugged off his jacket and was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, listening to the lore on the golem his brother had found. None of which sounded useful to you.

“Exactly. So, side-burner that. Another one,” Sam said, looking over at his laptop to reference the website he found on ancient lore dealing with golems that sounded useless. "'Some have a scroll in the mouth you're supposed to rip out.'"

“Wouldn’t that give him some sort of lisps or something?” You wondered.

"Well, classically, they're not even supposed to speak. We do know that he took on an entire camp full of heavily armed German soldiers and Thule necromancers and won.” Sam said. All you knew about the golem that he was one badass hummel figurine, in the words of Dean. “We have no idea how to put back in the box.”

"So that's your plan?" Your attention drifted away from the younger Winchester and to Aaron, who overheard your conversation that he didn't seem to taking a liking to. You would have never thought he cared for the giant from the way he constantly talked down to him and yelled every chance he got. "Taking out my golem?"

"It's not a plan." Sam tried to explain to the man.

"We would just feel a lot better if we knew how." Dean said, making it sound simpler than what it really was "That's all."

“What makes you think you have any right to make that decision?” Aaron questioned you.

"Believe me," Dean took a few steps forward to the man and told him how things were going to be, whether he liked it or not. "if we need the right, we will take it."

"Look, he may be a pain in the ass, but he's my responsibility." Aaron said.

"No offense, but you sort of suck at taking care of him." You couldn't help yourself but tell the truth that nobody was going to say to his face. "This thing is more powerful than you realize. The golem was built to go to war. You're not trained for that. Now, how are you gonna take on that?"

Aaron fell silent at the reality he knew was very much true, but he wanted to prove himself wrong. He wanted to make his grandfather proud. Much as you hoped this situation would have worked out in his benefit in the end, all of you had unexpected company. You expected to face against the Thule society at some point, knowing you had something they very much wanted and were actively searching for. But you didn’t think it would be so soon in the future, and right now.

You felt yourself jump a few inches out of your chair at the sudden sounding of the front door swinging open after someone broke it down, and you had a clue of who it might be. Without even thinking, you quickly grabbed the red ledger and dashed for a place to hide it, choosing underneath Sam’s messenger bag, giving you enough time before trouble came running in. Dean pushed Aaron out of the way when he saw what could only be three men belonging to the Thule society come running in. He reach for a shotgun, but before he could use it, one of the men beat him to it, ripping it out of his hands and punching him hard enough to knock him down to the ground. Sam attempted to take on one of the men coming his way, but it was no use. You saw a gun peeking out of Sam’s bag, and while you would have grabbed it, you found yourself stumbling upwards before you could even reach for it, a hand grabbing a fistful of your shirt and yanking you back up to your feet. You found yourself starting down the barrel of a gun, prompting you to temporarily forget about your own if you didn’t want to end up with a round to the head. While things seemed grim for all of you, there was someone that you almost forgot about, a giant who had taken on the Thule before. The golem came in charging into the room, growling in anger at what was going on. He flipped over a coffee table that stood in his way, making as if it weighed nothing when it went crashing into the wall before he set his eyes on the man holding a gun to Aaron. He grabbed the man from behind and lifted him up from his feet, choking him the process, but before he could do anything to harm the man, a voice called out for him to stop.

“Enough!” The man spoke with a German accent, making it clear enough they were all apart of the Thule society and looking for their fancy book. And it came as no surprise the stranger standing in the doorway was familiar with the golem after their encounter decades ago. “There you are, you clay piece of work, after all these years."

The golem dropped the man he was holding down to the ground and turned his attention to the stranger standing in the doorway, known as Eckhart. You saw the golem start to step a few steps forward to Eckhart, wanting to take him down first, but it seemed the giant was no threat at what he did next. You heard what had to be Hebrew come from the man’s mouth as he lifted his arm to the golem coming in his direction, and in the matter of seconds, the golem stopped. He became frozen like a statue as his shoulders slumped forward.

Eckhart walked past the giant, lightly patting him on the shoulder before he made his way in the living room to face the four of you. You let out a quiet sigh when you saw the one last hope you had against the Thule become useless. "Verdammt noch mal.*"

*Damn it.

[Next Part]

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almaasi · 6 years ago

Text

reaction post typed while watching SPN 14x01 “Stranger in a Strange Land”

oh boy WHAT A GOOD START

03:13pm

I AM READY (slash not ready at all) FOR CAS BEING VERY SAD ABOUT DEAN FOR MULTIPLE EPISODES STRAIGHT (slash not straight at all)

i know almost nothing about this season besides dean being micheal for longer than he was a demon, and cas being :< the saddest puppy

03:15

yoooo i need to go find some headphones because i can hear all the BLRAHAHRGAH but voices are muffled

brb

03:18

headphones acquired

now let’s do this recap again

i paused on alexander’s boobs

i still don’t get why breasts are censored and non-breasts are not. like. they’re literally the same just less squishy???

WHOA THESE HEADPHONES HAVE BASS. i haven’t heard bass in months

okay no the issue with voices is the video file, not my speakers

welp guess i gotta just deal with it and squint at the screen because somehow that makes it easier to hear shit idk

03:22

still mid-key bummed about gabriel and dean yelling “gabe no!!!”

03:23

sam driving the impala alone is such a sad sight

i can head the adhan (muslim call the prayer) in the background

pffffff of course michael goes to arabia

i guess he teleported.... i guess that’s better than taking poor dean on a plane

oh wait the adhan was on dean’s phone??? jsdfghd unsure what to make of that

oH MY GOD MICHEL IS MUSLIM

THIS MAKES ME WEIRDLY HAPPY

IDK WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF THIS BUT I AM A FAN

oh wait never mind that’s nOT DEAn

IT LOOKED LIKE HIM OKAY, in profile, lying in bed

WHOOPS

oh god this guy better not die

i feel such immediate fondness

please let him be gentle and loving and important and not a terrorist or a red shirt

THIS IS MAKING ME SO EMOTIONAL I HAVEN’T HEARD ANYONE SAYING THESE PRAYERS IN SO LONG

one time i was in the school playground and i think someone asked if i could speak any other language and i said nope but i could say that prayer...... and they made me repeat so they could laugh at me again

also the dude skipped a whole surah (verse) and a hands-on-the-knees-bow before sijda (kneeling)

i guess it’s a timing thing but jsdgjgd INACCURACY

03:32

JENSEN PRAYING LIKE THAT PROBABLY SHOULDN’T BE A TURN-ON BUT WOWWW

PLEASE DO THAT A LOT MORE

his pronunciation was so beautiful, shoutout to whichever dialect coach sat there helping him say it right

03:34

“if you really cared about peace, you never would’ve left syria”

MICHEAL IS AN ASSHOLE

03:35

micheal: “you’re lost, and not worth saving”

definitely two distinct destiel concepts turned on their heads in six words there

cas’ “when he first laid his hand on you in hell, he was LOST”

and dean’s “you don’t think you deserve to be saved”

03:38

ooooo nice title card with the flapping wings

03:39

it’s so nice seeing the bunker crowded with good guys

03:39

this guy: sam season 18

500 other people probably made this joke already

03:42

sam: “maggie, can you hack the traffic cams on the freeway?”

maggie: “um................... no?”

relatable

03:44

BOBBY AND JACK YAYYY

god this makes me wanna write all the AUs where it’s not weird that character x is alive at the same time as character y. i know i do that a lot anyway but I WANT MORE

03:47

southern suit guy: “castiel... darling”

cas: “oh god” >:|

i love how cas is so done with everything and everyone, forever

my love for him knows no bounds

and i love that cas is still curious enough to ask “what did you just order?”

03:50

cas: *very calm, very stern, very slow* “does any demon know where dean winchester is?”

*throws monster against tree* “WHERE’S THE ANGEL”

03:51

demon: “and how is it you lost dean? i thought the two of you were joined at the.......” *gestures to crotch* “you know... everything”

IS IT QUEERBAITING OR IS IT JUST QUEER WE JUST DON’T KNOW

BUT I’M ENJOYING IT

I’LL FUCKING TAKE IT, THANK YOU ANDREW DABB

03:54

oh cas :c

poor cas

he probably needs to read “how to win friends and influence people” tbh

if his first port of call to bargaining with demons is threatening them, that’s not getting him anywhere in the long run

not saying he deserved getting beaten up by a gang (hell no) but he probably could’ve offered, like, an angel feather or something

also whenever something bad happens to cas what makes me saddest is knowing that somewhere in the world there are people grinning with glee and taking it as confirmation that the character is worthless

i probably shouldn’t think about that but i do anyway

03:58

oh hey danneel!!! i didn’t know she’d be back, i’m glad she is

03:59

michael: “you don’t recognise me with this pretty face?”

1. michael thinks dean is pretty

2. i wonder how many casual viewers aren’t aware these two are married

04:02

you know what i find interesting

jensen seems to be able to control his face so that he doesn’t look obviously attracted to danneel in this scene (besides the chin touch)

i think his pupils are slightly dilated but that might be the low light

which leads me to believe

1. he’s trying extra hard because He’s Married To Her (and micheal has intense facial control anyway)

1.1. he doesn’t try so hard with misha because he doesn’t realise he’s doing it

2. he does the hearteyes and lip-licks with misha/cas on purpose because DEAN is attracted to cas

or ALL OF THE ABOVE

(and while 1.1 and 2 may seem to conflict, i theorise that jensen allows his natural reactions to show because he knows he likes misha and knows dean likes cas??)

anyway my point is that he showed less outward attraction to his wife than he does to his boyfriend and there’s probably a good reason for that and jensen was thinking about it while acting

04:08

the way michael hisses when he says “a placccccee..” and wobbles his head when he says “it’s very very human of you” reminds me of kaa from the jungle book (specifically the scarlett johannson live action/cgi version)

he a snek

micheal: “if they’re all these sad... lost... fallen things, maybe they’re not worth saving either”

clearly this guy never heard the story about the starfish