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mlobsters · 7 months ago

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supernatural s1e5 bloody mary (teleplay: ron milbauer, terri hughes burton; story: eric kripke)

(this is a rewatch, so spoilers abound)

today's update from the first watch - in fact maybe playing bloody mary as a very sensitive and nervous kid still gives me particular nightmares 30+ years later!

i like that they actually show us sam's nightmare about jess and it's conveniently just the pilot fire footage but blue. but it's effective! and the way they use a clip of his other nightmare where he's visiting her grave (before we get the cheap jumpscare of arms grabbing him from the ground), i always forget that that's all from a nightmare. dunno if it's supposed to also be like, representation of him actually going to her funeral (they did stay a week, i think they mentioned)

SAM I take it I was having a nightmare. DEAN Yeah, another one. SAM Hey, at least I got some sleep. DEAN You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.

and they say dean doesn't want to talk about things!

listen, you know i like first season lighting. but this lighting in an office of the morgue is out of pocket lol the eye strain!!

DEAN Dude, I earned that money. SAM You won it in a poker game.

still counts!

s1e5 chelan simmons as jill / hannibal s1e2 as gretchen speck / her little flouncy skirt for some reason is what i remember most

i thought she looked familiar but then i think that about a lot of pretty blonde haired young women in the early seasons of this show.. but she actually is! in my favorite hannibal rando murderer episodes, mushroom maannn (god the music while getting this hannibal screenshot, yeah it's wacky being so discordant and all but it's also SO GOOD at setting the tone and it's just so unique and special 🥺 link to my hannibal music masterpost)

someone got to have a lot of fun getting creative with all these hallway mirrors (peter ellis directed - he did this and 1x15 the benders and that's it)

smooth, dean-o. very normal response. got the doubletake jaw clench combo from sam lol (gifs i reblogged with pretty much the same comments, i am nothing if not consistent)

dramatic skylight on sam what is happening at this library

such a simple horror trope but so freaky every time

oh, sam.

SAM Why'd you let me fall asleep? DEAN Cause I'm an awesome brother. So what did you dream about? SAM Lollipops and candy canes. DEAN Yeah, sure.

very distinct visual style going here. it's just like, so blurry in the background of sam's shot and he's kind of soft focus himself.. feels like someone was having a moment with padalecki this episode instead of jackles hogging all the beauty shots :p and looking at her face i'm just appreciating how smooth the matte makeup looks under her eyes and is holding up to crying (which partially is just having young skin but also kudos to the makeup artist)

funny seeing the different supernatural-hunting techniques and gear that never went anywhere beyond this season

oh man, that feels like a lifetime ago. weird days of celebrity via leaked sex tape

casually printing out photos in their motel room. do they keep a printer with them in the trunk too? 😂

some of the score has got a very mark snow xfiles vibe, thanks to christopher lennertz (video down further because i ~needed~ to get the car chat too)

also trying to ignore the not-great green screen driving moments. i know they sort that out sooner rather than later. i think mainly by driving at night with their very cool practical effects lighting setup that simulates passing street lights/other cars etc - this interview with the director of photography serge ladouceur has all sorts of really interesting information and there's a video included about how they did the night driving effects.

So how did shooting in the car evolve? Clearly some of it was on the road, some of it is Poor Man’s Process in the studio, and a small portion of it is greenscreen. We didn’t do much greenscreen with the Impala. The scenes we did that way were in Season 1 — sending a crew to film plate shots and compositing in post. We went through that process for some episodes, but because of the visual effects costs with outside vendors, the production went another way. Since Season 2, we have had a full-on visual effects department that’s part of the production, so every visual effect is done in-house. It was very convenient to have the visual effect department right here by our stages, so if last-minute questions arose, our VFX supervisor, Mark Meloche, is close by to answer these questions and guide us into the process, on top of having a VFX department representative on set for the days we deal with those shots. Mark was a great asset on Supernatural, having been on the show for its whole duration. He started with the team as the lead artist and then became the VFX supervisor in Season 8, after the departure of Ivan Hayden.

oh i forgot about this part... i posted about this actually back when i watched it.

CHARLIE I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just…I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.

so this one hit really close to home for me, from my linked post above:

i was watching the bloody mary episode of supernatural, and yadda yadda people have secrets and someone is dead. and then we get to the final woman and her secret is her boyfriend killed himself after they had a fight. i was just internally screaming at sam and dean, and this is the part where you tell her it wasn't her fault ...!!!! because that's also one of the things i'm carrying around too, that i still need reminding that it wasn't my fault. had a fight, i knew he was suicidal, but i thought he was just mad. i was mad too, for the first time with him. i could have called, i could have asked for a wellness check, i could have could have could have... anyway. it's not our fault. i appreciated they told her that, finally, at the end. it's been 15 years now since it happened but it is still heavy on my heart.

the sam parallel finally coming to a head with his guilt about jess, so they get to have their talk. and a little crispy R for posterity's sake on "secret" from padalecki. i think i've narrowed it down to really soft barely there Rs on the ends of words, and very articulated Rs in the middle of words?

xfiles-y score / it's not your fault

DEAN You know what, that's it. This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place. SAM I don't blame you. DEAN Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.

we know especially later that even if he warned her, there was no way it would have helped. the wheels in motion were so far beyond their control. literal forces of hell and heaven working against them.

MIRROR!SAM You never told her the truth—who you really were. {SAM is now falling towards the ground.} But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you!?! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!?! You dreamt it would happen!!!

and these would be my 5th and 6th screenshots of my original viewing. also long slated to paint at some point

DEAN Sammy. Sammy! SAM It's Sam.

forever grateful that dean is stubborn and continues to call him sammy. love a nickname, especially when dean's the only one allowed to call him that

dean getting the ultra blurred out soft focus treatment now, with a side of extra saturation

SAM Charlie? Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen. DEAN That's good advice.

good but hard to internalize all the same

DEAN Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is. SAM Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.

not quite sure why sam's smiling about this. not to mention how his visions become extremely plot relevant in the future. would think that would be more angsty, not lighthearted

s1e5 / true detective s1e1

i don't know if this is the first time the show made me cry? but the shot of jess on the sidewalk really got me this time around. also reminds me of a shot in true detective s1 that i used in my hannibal / true detective edit.

i've thought about doing some comparative gifs but i do think it's also kind of a common trope. but not like that means it's not worth doing! just selection of the trope from shows i have Feelings about

the song was replaced yet again on netflix, this scene originally had laugh, i nearly died by the rolling stones and they used bones into dust by fred haring instead and it was a good enough sub that it hit me in the feelings, rarity. i don't know what part of the rolling stones song they used but i might actually prefer the vibe a little bit of the substitute?? it's more straight bittersweet melancholy

via the wiki

Dean began to bleed from his eyes when confronted by Mary Worthington, denoting he had a dark secret which creator Eric Kripke claimed would be addressed at a later date. However, the plotline would quickly be dropped and never mentioned again.

lol

so much for these not all being excessively long posts 🤪

#supernatural #spnwatch #spnrewatch #spn 1x05 #tw suicide #crispy Rs #spn musical score #christopher lennertz #spn clip #eric kripke #ron milbauer #terri hughes burton #peter ellis #hiky #spnhiky #hannibal #chelan simmons #true detective

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idreamofplaid · 2 years ago

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Characters: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Sex is described here ;)

Word Count: 1560

A/N: This is for the @spnfanficpond Secret Santa fic exchange. I hope you enjoy @ambergoddess444 and your holiday season is a wonderful one!

It was hidden, like they always were. However, if you knew where to look, the trees couldn’t hide the tiny cabin ready to provide rest to weary and battered hunters. It peeked through the pines and the blowing snow, offering a place to take refuge from the elements and, in this case, the disappointment of not making it home for Christmas Eve.

The bunker was different this year. It was filled with a kind of joy the Winchesters hadn’t known before. Lights were strung across the bookcases and along the railing of the iron staircase leading down into the war room. There was a big tree in the library and another in the kitchen. Both were covered with glass balls of every color, the kind you got in big boxes at a discount store when you didn’t have a lifetime of ornaments, each with a story to put on your tree. It didn’t matter; they were beautiful anyway and all the stories were waiting to unfold. The future finally looked bright.

Leaving to handle a werewolf problem was hard this year when happiness had finally come to the bunker, but Sam had quickly volunteered; and you came with him to be by his side. That was where you felt you belonged. He was determined Dean would spend his daughter’s first Christmas home safe with her and enjoying his life in a way he’d never been able to before. It was Sam’s gift to his big brother.

For Sam, the gift would have been making it back to be with his brother and his new niece. The two of you had driven half the night to achieve that end until the snow became so strong it was no longer safe to stay on the road. Gently, you’d suggested to Sam it was best to stop for the night, and he hadn’t argued.

Looking at him now as he dropped your duffels to the floor of the cabin, his eyes dull with the disappointment of not making it home, you wished you could somehow lighten his heart. Sam smiled at you, and even when his smile was tinged with sadness dimples still showed on his cheeks. He always had a smile for you, no matter what.

You went to him, wrapped your arms around his neck, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the lips. “The kitchen is stocked, and there’s wood by the fireplace.” You said and smiled back at him in an attempt to make the situation better for both of you. You hated to see him down. “We could have it worse.”

Sam smiled again, this time it was stronger, and it put a small spark in his eye. “I’ll get a fire started,” he said with a kiss to your cheek. It pleased you that you could make him even the tiniest bit happier.

A few minutes later, Sam had a warm fire crackling in the fireplace; and you had put together a simple dinner by warming up some beans stored in the kitchen cabinets by another hunter for just such an occasion as this. In addition to the canned goods you’d found, there was plenty of coffee to help take away the chill.

Never one to lack in imagination, you fancied the coffee was a cozy mug of hot chocolate complete with whipped cream, chocolate shavings and a candy cane. You’d been imagining this kind of perfect Christmas for a long time, and had come to realize that being with Sam was all you really needed for it to be good in a way you’d never understood before you met him. Right now you wondered if he felt the same way. There was no denying the hint of homesickness in his eyes.

You put down your cup and reached for his hand. “I know this isn’t the Christmas you wanted.” You rubbed your fingers lightly across his knuckles in an attempt to soothe or offer comfort, whatever the gesture might give him.

Sam threaded his fingers through yours and looked at your hands joined together. “I never thought much about Christmas,” he said, then slowly raised his eyes to meet yours.”Until you. You made me see things in a way I hadn’t before.” You scooched closer to him and put your head on his shoulder.

“You made me see things in a different way too,” you said softly. “I started thinking about dreams again that I let go of a long time ago, convinced they’d never happen.”

Sam kissed the top of your head. “Tell me about them.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, allowing your own personal visions of sugar plums to fill your mind. “Sometimes I wanted a house so beautiful it could be in the pages of a magazine with stockings hanging at the mantle, candles and greenery everywhere, a tree with presents overflowing beneath it, and snow falling gently outside the window.”

Sam’s thumb brushed across your bottom lip. “We have the snow,” he said. “It’s not soft, but we have it.” His voice had gotten deeper, and his eyes had gotten darker. You knew that look. There was some comfort you could offer him.

You leaned in to kiss him, and when your mouth touched his something stirred within you as it always did at the feel of his kiss. His fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head. He deepened the kiss, gently but insistently swirling his tongue around yours. The heat from the fire was warm on your cheek, and Sam’s body was warm against yours.

It didn’t take long for your breath to hitch in your throat, and the wetness to gather between your legs. You needed him in so many ways and needed to make this better for him. You took his hand and stood, still kissing him for a moment before you turned to lead him to the bed in the corner of the one room cabin. It was covered with a navy comforter that looked more utilitarian than cozy, but you couldn’t think of anything more inviting than that comforter beckoning you to get Sam naked underneath it, to feel his body move against and inside yours.

He moaned as broke the kiss and held your bottom lip between his teeth. You took off his flannel and pushed at the t-shirt underneath, lifting it as far as you could until he took over to finish taking it over his head and tossing it to the floor. His chest was warm and solid under your hands. The more you touched him, the more you needed him.

You watched him take off his jeans; a small sigh of appreciation escaped from your lips when he stood naked before you. His cock was standing hard and ready. Your eyes moved from it to his face and back down his body while you took off your clothes in as slow a strip tease as you could manage. You were impatient for him, wanting the satisfaction of joining your bodies together.

He pulled back the covers; you climbed in together and immediately wrapped your arms around one another. His kisses were passionate; he covered your neck with them and dipped his head down to kiss the tops of your breasts.

You could feel his desire intensify along with the intensity of his kisses, until he rolled you onto your back and parted your legs with his knee. Sam entered you swift and sure. That moment when he first breached your opening filled you with a deep contentment that stoked your desire, and it only became more incredible as he started to move within you.

Each thrust filled you, stretched your body to accept him; and you did. He had all your love and your complete surrender in a way you never believed you’d feel for any man. Sam was everything you’d waited for in your life and wanted. You felt it as he brought you closer and closer to falling over that edge. It was easy to let go with him.

When he said, “come for me” your entire body shook with a release so forceful you could practically feel yourself floating. The only thing to ground you was the feel of his hands on you and the look on his face when he allowed himself to come, knowing he’d satisfied you first. His eyes squeezed tight, his hair fell into his face, and he said your name, “Y/N, fuck.”

He rolled off you and pulled you into his arms, holding you close while he caught his breath. You loved these moments after sex, his naked body warm next to yours. There was nothing in the world but him. It was easy to forget everything else, and you wanted him to forget everything else except you and how good this felt. Just this, nothing more was necessary, but as you kissed his chest and his shoulder you thought of something more you could give him.

Maybe next year Dean’s little girl would have a cousin. For now, that thought would be your secret, your wish to hold to your heart this Christmas Eve. This Christmas Eve you knew which things in life really mattered. You snuggled closer to him, and Sam kissed the top of your head whispering “I love you” against your hair.

#spn christmas fic #sam x reader #sam smut #sam fic #spn christmas

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amanda-teaches · 3 years ago

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Our Christmas Mission ~ 1/9

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Summary: With Sam stationed overseas, he asks his brother, Dean, to help plan a surprise Christmas proposal for his girlfriend, and your best friend, Eileen. With very limited Christmas experience, Dean enlists your help to create some holiday magic for the lovebirds. Will the two of you find a little love of your own along the way?

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Square filled: Baker AU for @spnchristmasbingo

Word Count: 884

Warnings: None yet. :) We’re building the foundation in this one.

A/N: This is the start of my 9-part Dean x Reader AU drabble series for @spnchristmasbingo. The drabbles connect together like a puzzle to reveal a fluff-filled Christmas love story built around “The Christmas Song” to fill the squares on my bingo card. I really enjoyed writing this world, and I hope it brings you some merriment to read it.

Our Christmas Mission Masterlist

One of the greatest parts about owning a bakery was the smell.

It was an unmatched experience, never staying the same, always evolving, always surprising you. The cheerful citrus and floral lilac cakes that signaled the arrival of spring. The strawberry pies and peach macarons of summer. The pumpkin and caramel scones in the cool of fall. One step through the door in the morning, and you could instantly tell what time of year it was, just by smell alone.

Your personal favorite was winter. The roasting chestnuts, the unmistakable peppermint, the delicious eggnog. They burst forth from every cookie and muffin in your shop, heralding that the Christmas season was finally here. It was your busiest time of the year, but it was also your happiest, rush and all.

It was at the end of one of those Christmas rushes when he walked in. You’d been running the counter by yourself all day, serving out donuts and bread loaves like they were going out of style. By the time the clock hit 11:00 a.m., you were already dead on your feet, but you pushed through with a smile on your face, greeting your regulars and strangers alike as welcome friends.

You only allowed relief to flood through you when the rush finally died down, and you actually had a second to breathe. Pulling out a towel, you sighed happily and began to wipe down the counter for the umpteenth time that day. You’d barely been able to make a full circle before he stepped up to the other side of the wooden slab, clearing his throat in front of you to draw your attention. You inwardly groaned at the interruption of your first moment of peace in hours, but you plastered on a smile anyway, looking up to meet his eyes. “Welcome! What can I get for you?”

His hair was slightly mussed, his smile lopsided, but there was something charming about him, something that quickly replaced your retail smile with a real one. “Our specials today are fresh gingerbread scones, right out of the oven, and a candy cane pie.”

His eyes brightened at the word pie, but he nevertheless signaled his refusal with a shake of his head. “Actually, I’m not here to order anything. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam’s brother?”

It took a second for the name to register out of context, but once it did, your whole face brightened. Sam was one of your absolute favorite people. He was dating your best friend, Eileen, and you genuinely thought the world of him. He’d been deployed overseas for the past year, and you knew firsthand from all the late night phone calls with Eileen that his girlfriend missed him like crazy, especially since his deployment had just gotten extended another three months.

Your smile widened. “Dean! I’m sorry, I should’ve recognized you. I’ve seen pictures of you at Sam and Eileen’s place.”

He waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you weren’t expecting a picture to show up in your bakery.” He trailed off, falling into silence while shifting his feet restlessly back and forth.

“Is, uh, is everything okay?” Your face froze as a horrible thought occurred to you. “Oh my God, is it Sam?! Did something happen?”

“No, no,” he rushed to reassure you. “Nothing like that.” Looking down, he smiled softly before meeting your gaze again. “Just the opposite actually. Do you have a sec?”

You nodded, moving out from behind the counter and gesturing towards one of the many open tables in the empty bakery. He waited for you to sit before joining you, leaning his forearms on the table. “You were right, I am here about Sammy, but it’s nothing bad. He wanted me to ask you for a favor.”

“Okay…” you started, still a little confused. “But Sam’s not getting back until March. How could I help him all the way over there?”

Dean leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Yeah, that’s the thing, he’s not coming home in March.” He grinned at your surprised reaction, nodding along to emphasize what he had said. “Sammy’s coming home in a few weeks. On Christmas Eve.”

Your mouth dropped in a combination of shock and excitement. “Really? Wait, what? I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s amazing, but...I don’t understand. He told Eileen-”

“He wanted to surprise her. That’s actually why I’m here. For your help. When Sammy gets back, he’s gonna propose.” Dean paused to smile again at the gleeful gasp you let out, chuckling softly. “He asked for help arranging it and I’m kinda struggling on that front. He thought you could help.”

“I’d love to. What’s the plan?”

“Well, Eileen loves Christmas, right? Sammy’s big plan is to propose on Christmas Eve, but since he’s not here, he can’t make any arrangements. He asked me, but…we didn’t exactly grow up with the most traditional Christmases, you know? I’ve got no clue what to plan.”

You quickly agreed to help, your whole body teeming with excitement for Eileen and Sam. “I’m in. If you want some Christmas magic, I’m definitely your girl. Let’s plan the proposal of their dreams. But first,” you added, standing up with an inviting grin, “how’d you feel about that pie?”

#spnchristmasbingo #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #fluff

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kervinredfire · 2 years ago

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Loonatics KR Update: New Characters Part 2

Happy Halloween / All Saints Day everyone I'm back for Loonatics Unleashed content with Loonatics KR. Sorry, I got bust because of the face-to-face classes but now it's time to bring part 2 of my character of Loonatics KR.

Please do not fanart, use, or draw my characters without my permission to me. I like to stay my characters safe, clean, and nothing weird or stupid.

Caren (Loonatics R Character adopted by me from @purpleluckystar and drawn by DarthCraftus)

For those who don't this character, this was written by @purpleluckystar from Chapter 2 which is Lexi's chapter, and the similar jealous cheerleader from Episode 6 Comet Cometh.

This is one of the characters that I adopted for those who have read my update here

For those who read it, we all know that she is responsible for kicking Lexi out of the cheerleading squad and not much else in the chapter. But I may plan to give her a bio and character perspective or put her in future chapters or spinoffs for different characters to add her on

Cane Lupo (Blond Wolfdog), Cane Lupo (Brown Italian Wolf) & Tiger Leaps (Red Tiger) (Loonatics KR OC Character written by me and drawn by @pink-chameleon13n13 )

Now I show you my 3 new OCs joining Loonatics KR. To explain each of my 3 new characters without any spoilers here is some detail and some trivia inspiration.

Rage Shards - is a Wolfdog who escaped from prison after being framed for a crime he did not commit and after many long times in prison, he became unstable. After the meteor hit him giving dark powers to escape and lay low. I took inspiration from WWE Immortals Dean Ambrose as Back Alley Brawler and Lunatic Fringe

Cane Lupo - is the youngest godfather who leads his own mafia group called The TriColores alongside his allied mafia group Colonie de Rats. After the meteor strike, he has the ability to turn any part of his body into ebony steel making his melee takedowns more brutal than ever before. I took inspiration from the Godfather video games but only two protagonist characters. Aldro Trapani (Godfather) & Dominic Corleone (Godfather 2)

Tiger Leaps - is a student character who schools the same place as Lexi but in a different class. Despite his secret past he starts to have his new life in a new school with adventures to explore and what life can throw at him. He has no effect on the meteor and has no powers. But he can fight against bullies, play sports on his own, and loves to make fireworks. I took inspiration from Jimmy Hopkins from the game called Bully.

Don't forget to follow me though including Wattpad for more updates of my stories coming soon. Or just post fanart

And donate me to PayPal if you want. So I may use commission money for comics and characters in the future

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applesharonfiction · 3 years ago

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Jayvik week prompt #3 (alternate meeting: Professor Viktor AU)

Viktor raises an eyebrow and nods. “What did you think of the lecture?”

“I thought it was brilliant! All of it.”

“What are you studying at the academy, Mister Talis?”

Jayce grips his notebook tightly to his chest. He suddenly wishes he could tell Viktor what he’s really studying in his spare time.

Somehow, he thinks Viktor would understand.

“Crystallography,” he says.

I wasn’t going to post these outside of the collection but I really enjoyed this one and now want to make an entire story out of it lmao. Enjoy Viktor as a professor at the Zaun College of Techmaturgy and Jayce as an arrogant-turned-starry-eyed assistant to Dean Heimerdinger thing.

Will turn into something more probably and/or with interest.

Story below the cut.

It’s rare that he notices architecture or art or anything outside of his own experiments but even Jayce takes a moment to stop on the ropeways near the lift and listen to the wind whistling through the iron bridges that cross the harbour canyon.

The Zaun College of Techmaturgy is just as intimidating as Jayce thought it would be, and far more beautiful.

“Why do I have to go to this thing again? With all due respect, Professor Heimerdinger, I promise I’d be much more productive staying—”

“Jayce, that arrogant attitude is unbecoming of an academy student,” the professor says, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

Jayce opens his mouth to say that there are other students around who are a lot more arrogant than he is, but Heimerdinger cuts him off.

“And is certainly not the attitude I want from my own assistant. The fellows at the college are not only excellent scholars in their own rights but are on the cutting edge of robotics and cybernetics.”

“You mean human experiments?” Jayce presses.

The professor sighs and draws himself up to his full height, making himself as intimidating as his diminutive stature allows.

To the professor’s credit, Jayce is fairly intimidated.

Sighing, Jayce crosses the bridge towards the Cybernetics department. The first lecture that the professor had wanted to attend starts in five minutes.

As Jayce hurriedly slides into the lecture hall, he notes that it’s already standing room only.

“Is this guy a big shot or what?” Jayce whispers to the woman next to him.

She glares at him and pushes up her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “Professor Ivanov is the foremost cybernetics researcher at the college. He also has degrees in robotics and mechanical engineering.”

Jayce holds his hands up and his notebook to stop what he suspects will be a lengthy list of the professor’s accomplishments.

“He’s smart, got it,” he says. The woman continues to glare at him until he hears the loud chatter of the room quickly die down.

“Hello all and welcome!” A soft, accented voice fills the room, accompanied by a loud squeak from his microphone.

“Erm…sorry for…sorry about that,” the man says. “With all of my augmentations, I have not yet discovered a solution to the most basic acoustic problems!”

Polite laughter ripples through the crowd.

Jayce turns his eyes to the front of the room and gasps.

A slight, beautiful man with auburn hair stands on the centre dais. He leans on a cane with a wry grin, gesturing at his own mechanical leg.

“As most of you know I am Viktor. Please none of this Professor Ivanov, if you are from here you know.”

Another laugh travels through the crowd.

Jayce doesn’t understand but smiles anyway.

For the next hour, Jayce watches the man (Viktor) animatedly describe and diagram groundbreaking research in robotics and cybernetics. He outlines how these advancements can help war veterans — a shadow passes over his face that Jayce immediately wants banish forever — and injured chemical plant workers among myriad other applications.

Jayce thinks back to his initial complaints to Professor Heimerdinger and punches himself in the leg out of frustration at his own stupidity.

“And that concludes my lecture for today. Thank you all for your attendance.” Viktor gives a polite bow, crossing his arm in front of his body and tapping his cane on the floor for emphasis.

Jayce nearly runs towards his desk, jostling shoulders and elbows with several others looking for Viktor’s time and attention.

It takes over a half hour for him to turn to Jayce, who now notices large purple bruising underneath his eyes and an exhausted slump in his shoulders.

Still, Viktor’s smile is warm and inviting.

Jayce wasn’t expecting that. He stares, cataloguing the small mole near Viktor’s lips and another one under his eye.

Viktor coughs loudly and covers his mouth with a gloved hand. “How may I help you mister…?”

“Are you okay?” Jayce blurts out.

Narrowing his eyes, Viktor studies Jayce, taking in his academy uniform. A light flickers in his amber eyes.

“You are a long way from the Piltover Academy of Sciences.”

“I’m Jayce! Jayce Talis!” He holds out his hand. “I’m the assistant to the dean, Professor Heimerdinger.”

“Ah…the professor, yes. He sent you?”

“He sends his regards,” Jayce says. The professor hadn’t told him to interact with any of the lecturers but Jayce needs to think of some excuse for introducing himself. “He’s sorry he couldn’t be here himself.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow and nods. “What did you think of the lecture?”

“I thought it was brilliant! All of it.”

“What are you studying at the academy, Mister Talis?”

Jayce grips his notebook tightly to his chest. He suddenly wishes he could tell Viktor what he’s really studying in his spare time.

Somehow, he thinks Viktor would understand.

“Crystallography,” he says.

#jayvik #jayvik week #jayce and viktor #arcane fanfic #arcane

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shootthemessenger · 4 years ago

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headcanon ➭ perks

sarah paulson characters x fem!reader

prompt: the best parts of being in a relationship with them

contains: billie dean howard, cordelia goode, ally mayfair-richards, wilhemina venable, mildred ratched

disclaimer: sexual nature, strong language

gif belongs to @hotel-a-h-s

Billie Dean Howard

billie dean spoils you

no matter where she goes, how far she travels, she always comes back with lavish gifts to shower you in upon her arrival, “i didn’t forget your presents, darling.”

her favorite part is watching your face light up and the loving look in your eyes as you express to her your excitement

every now and then she buys herself something that will benefit you; a new sex toy, lingerie, perfume you’ll like on her

billie dean has beautiful hands

you’ve always said the most attractive thing about her were her hands

ever since she heard you say that, she gets her nails done every two weeks and keeps lotion on her at all times

when you started buying her rings to go with her favorite outfits, she became very aware of the fact that you constantly stared at her hands (all. the. time.)

her favorite thing to do is wrap her hand around your throat in the mirror, “you look to pretty with my hands around your throat, don’t you think darling?”

Cordelia Goode

cordelia has a habit of pampering you

it started as giving you days to yourself, to relax and nap where none of the girls would bother you with their bickering

then she started drawing you baths, every night light clockwork

they were just warm baths, “you need to relax sweetheart, it doesn’t do anyone any good with you running around like a chicken with your head cut off”

then she introduced the candles and the bubbles

by now, she had gotten into the habit of sprinkling rose pedals around in the water

cordelia conveys her love with her lips

she kissed you all the time

she kissed your neck when you’re sitting in her lap

she kisses the shell of your ear just before whispering something sweet (and watching the goosebumps rise on your skin)

she kissed your cheek every time she passed you in the house, no matter what she’s doing or going to do

you’re not allowed to leave the room or go to bed before she’s had her kiss, “give me a kiss, sweet girl.”

Ally Mayfair-Richards

ally keeps up with all of your things

it started out with her picking up your phone where you would leave it and bringing it to you,

“are you looking for this baby?” she’d hold it up and make you give her a kiss before getting it back

then it was your keys and your notebooks

she always knows where the tv remote is

or where you left that thing last week

she’s afraid you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you

ally is very protective

she felt as if she screwed up her relationship with ivy because she wasn’t protective and possessive enough

you assure her nothing would make you do anything to hurt her the way ivy did

but that doesn’t stop her from leaving love marks all over you

“stay with me, please, I don’t want to lose you in there,” she’d practically glue her hands to your hips when you’re out in public

she even once made you match her at a press conference so she couldn’t lose you in the crowd

Wilhemina Venable

wilhemina would do anything for you

she had always told you, “there’s nothing in this world that is worth losing you for”

even before the apocalypse, she nearly lost her job by dropping everything to be by your side when you needed her

then she lost you when the world ended; and it seemed as if her world was ending just the same

then you walked into the outpost, hazmat suit and all

she panicked, cupping your face in her hands “darling are you okay? are you hurt?”

she went as far and dropping her rules on sex and affection in the outpost just to have you the way she wanted

wilhemina let you in on her biggest insecurity

she had never shown anyone her back

she avoided all questions about her cane up until they came out of your mouth one date night

she looked at you with worried eyes and she allowed her dress to pool at her feet

she turned around, allowing your eyes to travel along the crookedness of her spine

she shivered when you ran your fingers down her back softly “does it hurt?” she shook her head, her cheeks blushing harshly “no, just uncomfortable is all.”

Mildred Ratched

mildred knows exactly how to keep you safe

she always knew how to keep you out of trouble, how to keep you close, and how to protect you

she could hold you, tell you that everything was going to be okay and mean it with everything in her, “shh shh, it’s okay honey, it’s okay,”

she’d keep you close at the hospital but far enough away that you couldn’t get caught up in the plan she was hatching

mildred told all of her stories with her eyes

you noticed it the first time you met her; that look in her eyes that told you a story completely different than the one her mouth was telling

especially when she denied her feelings for you, but she looked at you as if she was longing to reach out for you and hold you

you knew she was going to kiss you before she even leaned in because her eyes sparked with this glassy light that you had never seen before, “if you’re going to kiss me go ahead and stop torturing yourself.”

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scones-and-texting-and-murder · 3 years ago

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Bookends

(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )

Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link

Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.

Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.

With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.

Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.

To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.

As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.

“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.

They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.

“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”

“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.

Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.

Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”

Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.

“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”

Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”

Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”

Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.

Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.

Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.

When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”

Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”

They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.

“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”

Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”

She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”

Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.

“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.

The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.

Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”

“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.

The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”

“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.

“I always do,” Cas assures him.

When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.

Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.

Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.

“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.

Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.

#deancas #destiel #my writing #growing old together #this came well before the finale #but it feels like a fix it fic nonetheless

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holylulusworld · 3 years ago

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2021 SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist

Preview for the upcoming fics to fill the squares.

(Please consider none of the stories is available yet.)

Stories written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square 1: Don’t fear your kinks - Part Zero (SantaClaus!Dean x Elf!Reader): Secret relationship

Square 2: ??? (Cop!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader): Die hard

Square 3: Unmated (Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean): Sharing a bed

Square 4: ??? (??? x Reader): Mall Santa AU

Square 5: ??? (??? x Reader): opening a present on Christmas Eve

Square 6: Big bad wolf, our families and I (6) (Mobster!Dean x fem!Reader): Christmas movie marathon

Square 7: This Christmas (2) (Mechanic!Dean x Reader): Huddling together for warmth

Square 8: Greedy for Christmas (3) (CEO!Dean x fem!Reader): Decorating the tree

Square 9: ??? (??? x Reader): Elf

Square 10: Eggnog rocks (Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader): Eggnog

Square 11: No place to stay (Dean x fem!Reader): Candy cane

Square 12: Run Free (2) - Christmas... (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader): Baking cookies

Square 13: Feral Need (Alpha!(Demon)Dean x Omega!Reader): Coming home for Christmas

Square 14: Christmas with tentacles (5) (Alien!Dean Winchester x human!Reader): A holly jolly Christmas

Square 15: ??? (??? x Reader): Office AU

Square 16: ??? (??? x Reader): Secret Santa

Beautiful X-Mas divider by @firefly-graphics

Find more special events/bingos here: Special Events & Stories Masterlist

#spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester #sam winchester #christmas fluff #ugly christmas sweater #angst #dean x reader #sam x reader #spn #christmas stories #SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist #dean winchester fanfic

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proud-mom85 · 4 years ago

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Misha's StageIt panel was amazing!

*His poetry book that he's been working on that'll be out in the fall, he just has to submit the title by Monday.

*He has a script he has been working on but he didn't go into detail about what it was or what it was about. Think he's still trying to get it to go anywhere.

*He said the finale was supposed to take place inside a roadhouse but cuz of Covid & only a certain amount of people being allowed onset plus the 2 week quarantine, it wasn't able to be done.

*He was asked what is something his kids have done that he can't be mad at them for cuz they get it from him, he told a story of how when West was 8, Misha came home to find him with a hammer pounding holes in the walls of their mud room. Misha, mad,, was like "what are you doing?!" And West told him he was looking for the elves that live in their walls.

*Backstory to above: Misha does the advent calendar during Christmas with his kids but he puts little notes in it for his kids from the elves and one year he forgot to do it than Dec 5th came and his kids were like where are the elves? So Misha wrote a note from the elves with all these reasons why they hadn't been leaving notes and that they were back safely in the walls of the Collins' house.

**I'm sure there's more stories about things the kids get from Misha that he could've told but unfortunately not enough time but I love any stories he shares about his kids and I'm happy he's getting time with them that he couldn't get while doing Supernatural.

*He talked about the time when he was about 14 and he and his brother used knives to carve things in their skin and he clarified that it wasn't like a self harm thing (even tho that's what it technically was) but basically he didn't do it becuz of depression or whatever, it was just something he and his brother did and the peace symbol he carved in his leg is barely visible.

*He was asked about the hardest scene to film, he thought of a bunch he couldn't mention but did say that the scene where Cas and Dean were climbing up to the portal out of purgatory was a hard one due to the fans they used that were like 8 ft tall and 8ft wide.

*Misha spoke about how he misses the fans and doing conventions and seeing his cast mates. He says he can't wait to see everyone again.

*We briefly see West but he ignores his dad as he's yelling at him, saying hi.

*Misha said that his hip is healing well, he was able to stand and sit without use of a cane and he was able to walk downstairs to make himself some tea.

*Misha learned that he was keeping himself too busy between filming, doing cons, running Gish and Random Acts that he's learning to slow himself down, enjoy time with his kids, meditate and once he's healed enough he is gonna start running again.

*He apparently didn't know that Saturdays at conventions were known as Misha Day, he just knew about the song Where's Misha they would play cuz he was always late to his panels.

*OH and he spoke Russian guys!!! I got tingles, love when he speaks Russian or uses his Russian/India-Russian accent!

*He asked all of us to stay healthy and said "you are not alone" even tho a lot of us may be feeling alone (🙋🏻‍♀️).

#misha collins #misha is an angel #dmitri tippens krushnic

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gegewrites · 3 years ago

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I do not give anyone permission to repost my work anywhere or translate it into any other language. This is my original work.

Other books/works can be found on wattpad under the user- gege-writes

Or AO3- Gegewrites

Sam Winchester- stars

Angst

Published- 10/14/21

Words- 666

Edited no

Just a quick fic

Sams Pov-

The chilled air nipped at my nose and the tips of my fingers. The sky was clear, not. A single cloud about. A beautiful night.

The sky was covered in stars, I could see a little bit of light pollution out of if the corner of my eyes hit not enough to disturb the stars from shining brightly and fully.

My hands left my pockets and grabbed onto the bonnet of the Impala, my fingers lightly drumming on the steel. The radio caught my ears, an old cassette playing; Somebody To Love, Day at The Races album by queen, the whole album was on here but each time the song ended i immediately set it back to the beginning of the song.

The pictures of you singing the song in parking lot of a bar while it played from someone's car played in my head. Seeing your smiles, the way your eyes creased from the bright blushing smile you had. The way you carelessly spun in the gravel as you joyfully sung.

I remember it all like it was yesterday. Not even a few months after Dean died.

You left to pick a hunt up with a hunter, I tried to get you to stay in the bunker, but you persisted tht you go. One of the things I liked about you. You always did it when I said not to or advised you not to. I loved that annoying thing about you.

You went, and a week later I got a call. That partner of yours said you got killed. Didn't tell me how, just said he's come and drive your body to me to burn.

I was sitting in the library, Miracle laying by my feet asleep. I was just doing some reading, the bunker being so quiet was...mind racking, I couldn't stop thinking about my brother and the chances of loosing you and what if everything went back to suit again and what if I couldn't stop it?

And right was i reached silence in my mind, my phone rang. That dreaded call. That fucking call. Cane from your phone so I thought it was you.

"Hey baby, how's it going?"

"Sam?"

"Derek?"

"On the bullseye.

His tone wasn't like his normal upbeat monotone thing he had going .

"All alright?"

"She's dead."

I didn't comprehend his words at first. I was sorta shocked but also confused.

(y/n)? Dead.

What?

There was no way.

She promised me she'd be back with no less the some scratches and some new scars to add to the collection.

And the other came.

A few days later, in standing infront of a wood pile, miracle at my side as you burned. Your necklace in my hand, it was a silver chain with An anti-possession charm on it but also your ring, you out it on the chain instead of your finger so you never lost it or damaged it

I twisted my ring around my finger as I looked at the sky, I noticed a star that shun brightly it wasn't the North Star, that was behind me. This was twinkled and flickered, wasn't a plane either none were going over this area.

"If I die, we'll when I die. I wanna be a star, and I wanna shine brighter then all those other gas light bitches." You slurred.

"What type of fucking lion king bullshit are you on?" Dean laughed.

"I'm serious I wanna be a star, the brightest Besides the North Star."

"You also wanna be king of pride rock?" I laughed

"Go screw yourselves. I'm a star."

I laughed at the conversation, and shook my head.

"You're a star baby, you're a star."

Original post-

#sam winchester #spn #spn fanfiction #sam fanfiction #sam angst #fanfiction #original work #x reader

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lifblogs · 4 years ago

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#SPNAdventCalendar2020 | Christmas Lights | @bend-me-shape-me

I was partly inspired by @starrynightdeancas‘s current story called Tinsel and Tourists.

READ ON AO3

Dean was the one who had introduced Castiel to the concept of a “Tree Lighting.” He’d talked about how his dad had taken him one time as a kid. Sure, it’d been so he could drop him off somewhere while he worked a job, but he and Sam had been given some pocket money, and being left on their own in a beautiful town wasn’t really an elementary-schooler’s nightmare. Not when there was so much to see and do. Now, with Jack, Dean suggested to Sam and Cas that they take him to one. Everyone quickly agreed. Castiel wanted to see his first Tree Lighting as well.

They had to drive to a more populated town to find one, and they’d be staying in a motel for a bit, just to make sure they had a homebase for the event. Sam got a room with Jack, and Castiel with Dean.

“Alright,” Dean said, checking his watch, “the Tree Lighting starts at eight. And it’s friggin’ cold out, so dress warm.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean.

“Dean, I’m an angel.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Cas just sighed. “I could go out there buck naked and not get cold.”

Dean’s face blanched, and then his cheeks started to turn red. He looked away from him, swallowing roughly. “Right. Right. Yeah. I’m just gonna…” He rubbed at the back of his head. “I’m gonna see how Sam and Jack are doing; talk plans for dinner.”

Castiel ended up following Dean into the other motel room. What they found was Jack bouncing on the bed by sitting cross-legged and using his knees for leverage, and he and Sam were laughing.

Cas smiled at the sight.

Sam turned to them. “All settled in?” he asked.

“Yes. Mostly. We’re here to talk about dinner.”

Jack stopped bouncing, and then announced quite loudly, “I don’t want dinner. Sam told me there’d be food at the Tree Lighting.”

Sam just smiled, giving Jack a fond look, and turned back to Dean, and Cas, “He’s gonna eat dinner. He knows that all they have are hot chocolate, candy, and cookies.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Dinner,” Jack reasoned. Cas just tilted his head at him, lowering his eyebrows. “What, it’s not like I’m human,” Jack said. “Besides, I want candy.”

Dean laughed, and went over to sit on the bed with Jack. Castiel settled for sitting with Sam. His boyfriend pat Jack on the shoulder.

“Okay, kiddo, but the adults need to eat.”

Jack slumped. Cas couldn’t help but smile, despite his son’s temporary disappointment. It was a minor thing, and it brought out Jack’s personality.

“Fine,” he relented.

~~~

They ended up going to a diner for dinner, and then by the time it was even darker than it had been at four PM, they started walking around the town. The buildings were old, made of brick, and the streets were set up like a grid. It’d be impossible to get lost. So Cas took Jack and broke off from Sam and Dean for now. Dean had wanted to go into one of the shops since everything was apparently on sale right now as well.

With some exploring, and careful observation, Castiel and Jack found a historical building. The wood and stone was clearly old. Even smelled old. The actors dressed in clothing from the 1800s was enough of a tip-off as well.

Jack beamed as he saw a kid walking out with a cookie, and some sort of drink that had steam wafting from it.

Jack grabbed Cas, and started dragging him up the stone steps. Cas’ heart filled with joy.

It was crowded inside, the sparse rooms lit only with flickering candles. The bit of light playing with the darkness made for a cozy atmosphere. There was a woman playing a flute in one corner of the dining room, and on the table, there were refreshments. Cookies, hot drinks.

Jack immediately went for it.

On a piece of paper that had been made to look like parchment, the prices were listed.

Cas paid, let Jack ogle the sights as he ate, and drank, and then he took him back outside, searching for his boyfriend and his best friend.

Dean immediately put an arm around Cas’ shoulder when they met up again, and Dean kissed him on the cheek. Unlike most kids, Jack didn’t scrunch up his face in disgust at this. He just seemed content.

Sam started asking Jack what he’d been up to, and Dean said to Cas, “Good. I thought you were gonna miss it.”

“It’s not eight yet,” Cas reasoned.

“It’s close enough.” Then, he addressed the whole family, “Hey, guys. Let’s head closer to the big tree they have in the middle of the square.”

They agreed, and made their way through the throngs of people, smelling ginger and candy canes and hot chocolate, hearing carols in the air. Castiel could see just fine, and he knew for sure that Sam and Dean could since they were taller than him. Jack, while still being an average height, seemed to have difficulty.

Cas wasn’t sure how to deal with the problem, seeing as Jack looked like an eighteen-year old.

But, Jack ended up tugging on his sleeve, and Castiel hoisted him up, carrying him on one shoulder. Holding his son up like that was easy. He barely felt his weight.

Sam just smirked. “I could’ve done that,” he said.

Cas winked at him, which cued Dean to lightly smack him on the back of the head.

They broke off into laughter.

Suddenly, the people in the square were counting down, and they joined in. Castiel had started later than the Winchesters, just a little confused as to what was going on, but he was buzzing with eager energy. Everyone cheered once they got to one, and then, Castiel could hear the strong thrum of electricity working itself through a large pattern of wires. The giant tree in the middle lit up with all the colors of the rainbow (at least, only the colors that humans could see), and the leafless trees all along the roads on either side lit up in gold and white.

Jack started clapping and cheering, and Castiel kept a tight hold on him. He beamed, and couldn’t take his eyes off the sight. But then, he found Dean looking at him.

“Really is beautiful, huh?” Dean asked.

“Yes, it is.”

Dean came forward and kissed him, and Castiel knew he hadn’t been talking about the Christmas lights.

Tag List: @evilwriter37, @fanola-draws, @thenightwolf732, @flightoftheseraph

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed.

#SPNAdventCalendar2020 #Day 14: christmas lights #Destiel #Jack Kline #Sam Wincehster #Castiel #Dean Winchester #spn #Supernatural #spn fanfiction #Supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

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Author’s Faves:

All That I Ask: Intimacy and trust and agency in the wake of trauma. ~6990 words, explicit.

Finally: A first time. Written with realism in mind, and a focus on consent, comfort, and communication. ~4290 words, explicit.

Night Crawling: Trying to forget about the impending apocalypse in a grimy club bathroom. ~3350 words, explicit. And a follow-up drabble: Burn - 463 words, explicit.

Heart of Gold: A love story. ~2980 words, rated PG-13ish.

The Right Spot: Follow-up to Hiding Spot, this time with 3000% more porn! The most popular fic I’ve written to date. ~3030 words, explicit.

For Us Sinners: Absolutely blasphemous smut featuring Soulless Sam in a priest costume. ~4130 words, explicit. And two quick follow-up drabbles: To My Prayers (Sam x Reader + Dean watching. 428 words, explicit) and Like A Good Girl (gun play, explicit, 483 words).

Prey: Soulless!Sam being his hotass predator self. ~4700 words, explicit.

1000+ words:

Guilt: Plus background Dean x Reader. Lust curse + soulless Sam = bad emotions, but great sex. ~1660 words, explicit.

Tear Down My Reason: Lust curse + soulless Sam again, but this time with a heist and lots of snarky banter. ~2990 words, explicit.

Blood Buzz: Knife play, demon blood, and self loathing. ~1880 words, explicit.

Five Seconds: Oddly sweet long distance smut feat. a strip tease and dirty talk. ~1190 words, explicit.

Chief: ~4400 total. Because Sam with a beard just does things to me. Dom/bratty sub relationship. Explicit! Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Told You So: Sexual tension, lots of Sammy objectification, naughtiness but no nudity. ~1670 words, rated R.

If We Must: Sequel to Told You So. Even more Sammy objectification, so much more naughtiness, and all the nudity. ~3350 words, explicit.

Ocean Eyes: Sam’s eyes! Seaside fluff! Mixed metaphors! ~1800 words, rated G.

The One Where They Go To Paris: What it says on the tin. Self-indulgent and tooth-rotting. Travel porn and also some real porn. ~3500 words, explicit.

Try: Fluffy baby-makin smut. ~1840 words, explicit.

Memory: In which Sam is a closet emo kid in high school. ~1700 words, rated G.

Of Bullets and Big Buck Hunter: Prompted by the Firefly quote: “Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.” ~2300 words, PG. And the sequel: Of Krakens and Kissing, ~2000 words, PG-13. Not-quite-crack humor with lots of Whedonesque snark.

500-1000ish words:

Ropes & Rest: Rope bondage. 609 words, PG-13.

I’ll Be Your Mirror: Sam and self-esteem. ~900 words, mature.

Speechless: SPN / CM crossover. Sam x Reader x Spencer Reid poly threesome smut. ~680 words, explicit.

Haunting, Haunted, Haunts: Rough sex and depression, mostly. Set between seasons three and four. ~960 words, explicit-ish.

Dreaming: Sleepy Sam and snuggles circa Hallucifer. ~910 words, G.

Envy: Dean x Reader and Sam x Reader. Darker than my average. Supremely filthy. ~990 words, explicit.

Choose-Your-Own-Winchester Kinkmas Eve Ficlets: Three “either-chester” Christmas-themed kink ficlets.

Mirror: Watching in a mirror, ~1120 words, explicit.

Share: Sub sharing, ~620 words, rated R.

Straps: Pegging, ~500 words, rated R.

Hiding Spot: No clothes come off, nobody gets off, it’s just tension, groping, and grinding galore. In a closet. ~700 words, rated R.

Stay: Feels, pining, and first kisses. ~700 words, rated G.

Long Way Home: Inspired by the Tom Waits song. Happy feels! ~850 words, rated G.

Drabbles (~500 words or less):

Take It Easy: Discussion of rough sex but nothing on-screen. 300 words, mature.

Better Than Xanax: Snarky exes stuck in a confined space. 360 words, PG-13.

Pavlovian: Demon!Reader + bloodplay. 331 words, explicit.

Autumn: A weekend getaway + feels. 500 words, explicit.

Tradition: Birthday spanks. 467 words, explicit.

Full Moon Madness: Stake-out turned make-out. 382 words, PG.

The Way He Talks: Blindfold and suction toy and dirty talk. 450 words, mature.

So Bad: Sam takes it slow. 318 words, explicit.

Bow Your Head: Rough sex, totally unsafe d/s vibe going on, restraints, soulless Sam. 353 words, explicit.

Christmas In August: Candy cane dildo fun. 380 words, explicit.

False Alarm: Bodyguard!Sam in a panic room. 523 words, mature.

The Afterparty: Rockstar!Winchesters threesome. 280 words, explicit.

Laundry Day: Smutty drabble inspired by the dialogue prompt, “Are you wearing my shirt?” ~480 words, explicit.

Soulless!Sam Smut Drabbles: Exactly what it sounds like! All Sam x Reader, ranging from 174-600 words, all explicit.

Pegged: Sub Soulless Sam + pegging. 476 words, explicit.

Cold: Fluff Friday drabble. Huddling for warmth! 215 words, rated G.

Back to the main masterlist here.

#spn #spn fic #sam x reader #masterlist

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bonniebird · 4 years ago

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Dean x Reader

Requested by Anon

Christmas 2020 Masterlist

Christmas 2020 event rules

Christmas Prompt List

Christmas with Dean Winchester:

Dean had managed to acquire a seemingly never ending supply of candy canes.

Literally every nook and cranny in the Impala was filled with tiny individually wrapped candy canes.

Even his pockets had them, including the little one on his shirt that he and Sam would argue over on long drives. Dean had decided they were for tiny candy canes.

You’d wanted to stick around at Bobby’s because Garth was coming down for the holidays.

Unfortunately Sam was asked to help someone research somewhere, you didn’t pay attention to where he was going, Dean was trying to eat his sixth pie of the morning.

You’d gone off with Dean later that day on a hunt that wasn’t too far away.

It was taking much longer than you thought and Bobby and Garth had been called off on a case so no one would be at Bobby’s for the holidays.

Dean realised that you were upset about missing out and disappeared off while you packed up the motel room.

He came back later and asked if you could buy some supplies from the store that he’d forgotten.

When you came back with supplies you realised that the motel room smelled of fresh baked cookies and burning.

Dean very proudly showed off holiday cookies that he would make with his mom when he was little.

He hadn’t remembered the recipe right and the first batch were so disgusting you had to spit it out but his second batch of cookies were perfect.

The decoration was wonky and sloppy but you could see how much hard work Dean put into it.

When you help take the bags out to the Impala you realise that Dean had moved the seats around so that the two of you could lay out in the back with blankets, that you were sure that he’d stolen from the motel.

He drove for a while and picked up pizza from a pizza place that you spotted so he parked in a field off a side road after sending you across the road to order pizzas.

When you came back you found lights strung up everywhere. You could see the battery packs that were hanging heavily and making his neat draping look wonky and messy.

The two of you sat in the back of the Impala with the boot open, watching the stars and eating you pizzas.

At one point he pulled out one of Bobby’s old, barely working laptops and some christmas dvds with thrift store stickers still on them.

He left you to sort it out and went to the Pizza place to buy some hot chocolate and came back with some warm hot water bottles and his flask full of hot chocolate.

Once it got cold enough he shut the boot and the two of you stayed in the back watching christmas movies until you fell asleep.

Dean woke you at the crack of dawn to put the Impala back. If turned out he had put all of the weapons from the boot in the footwells of the back seats.

It took two hours to clear up the lights and put the weapons back.

By the time Dean drove back to Bobby’s Sam was back as well. He’d gotten pie and burgers and had found a box of old lights.

Bobby and Garth managed to get back late that night with more food and drinks as well as a crazy hunting story.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #bonniebird #christmas2020

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 4 years ago

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The Pact - Part 6

Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Gothic AU

A/N: This idea was a long time coming. My first true AU, so please be gentle. This will be a slow burn, multi-chapter fic.

A big big thank you to my bestie @kazosa for not only keeping on me to write more of this story, but also for being my beta, my cheerleader, and all around amazing human.

WC: 5K

Series Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Players: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore (deceased)

Series Warnings: 18+ only, mild language, violence, implied smut

The sun rose over Lawrence on a typical Tuesday morning. A familiar sound woke Sam, something he heard every Tuesday morning--the melody of the tower bells summoning the Winchester guard to court. Normally, they didn’t ring until later in the morning, but their early clanging roused a reluctant Sam from a deep, painless slumber.

When his eyes finally fluttered fully open, he slowly rolled his head to the side, knowing he’d see her there, but this morning was different than any other before it; this morning, she would wake up and truly be his wife. His mind recalled the night before, and into the early hours of that morning, rolling around on the floor, making love to the woman he was supposed to despise. The corner of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile as he thought about how she moved her body with his, how she opened up and let him take her. There was a manner of uncontrolled passion that erupted between them, and even then, he was getting hard thinking about it.

The bells rang again, along with the Horn of Gabriel, a much deeper tone that stood out over the sound of the melodic chimes. Sam furrowed his brow, knowing this meant for the guard to assemble quickly. He wondered if there was news from the front lines… from Dean. He looked at his sleeping bride with a last longing look, taking special notice of how her hair spilled out on the pillow around her. Resisting the urge to brush a finger against her cheek, he threw off the covers and didn’t think of his hip once as he put his feet on the floor and moved about his chambers to dress for the day.

Just as Sam fastened the last button on his shirt, he heard (Y/N) stirring from behind him.

“Samuel?” she spoke, half asked in a low, sleepy tone. “Where… it’s so early.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and pulled the blanket up to her collarbone, covering her naked breasts.

“Rest,” he tutted. “It is early. I need to go to court, the bells are calling the guard. I’m going to check it out, but you can go back to sleep.”

“No,” she said and sat up further in the bed. “I’ll go with you, we should present a united front.”

“I appreciate that, (Y/N), but your presence there would be questioned, even by my father. I promise to take it all in and report back.” Sam sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand for a moment before he spoke. “I’m not trying to leave you out, I swear. I just--”

“It’s fine, Sam. I understand. I just wanted to be there to support you. Dealing with your father can’t be easy.”

“Since he has seen us playing along with whatever their plan is, he’s been surprisingly pleasant,” Sam said, a small tinge of sarcasm coating his tone.

“Well, he’s getting what he wants. Of course he’s going to be kind.” She paused and gave his hand a little squeeze in return. “Sam, about last night. I--”

A deep, penetrating knock rapped at the door, interrupting her and causing both their heads to snap around. Their eyes met in a questioning glance before Sam released her hand and walked towards the door.

“Sam!” She whispered hoarsely but sharp to gain his attention. “Your cane… appearances and all that.”

“Good thinking,” he said, half embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that. He scooped up the now unneeded crutch and went to open the chamber door.

As he pulled it open, a member of the Winchester Guard was standing at full attention.

“My Lord, your father, the King, requires your immediate attention. He needs you to come to the War Room without delay,” the guard rambled quickly, causing Sam to shake his head and lend a soft smile at the man.

“Slow down… what’s wrong? Why are the Court bells ringing so early?”

“Please, Lord Winchester, your father… he--”

Sam could see the unsettled look in the guardsman’s face and knew that something was definitely happening. He drew in a steading breath and patted the man on his ironclad shoulder.

“Let me finish dressing. Something tells me I need to be prepared for anything,” Sam said more to himself than to the guard.

“I would say that’s an accurate assessment,” the guardsman replied in the same manner, but Sam could hear the slight tremble in his words before he closed the door, blocking the man’s view into their chambers.

Sam leaned his cane near the entry, this way he wouldn’t forget it on the way out. He then made a mental note that he would also have to remember to add his now healed limp back into his entrance to the War Room. His mind began to race at what could be so urgent. It must be about Purgatory, as that was all his father had been concerned about lately. Well, that, and Sam’s ability to produce an heir.

Sighing deeply Sam sat on the edge of the bed and studied (Y/N)’s face as she did the same to him.

“You’re very troubled, husband. What could possibly be so dire that you have to run to Court at the very minute of daybreak?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, still buried in thought and growing concern. “But I plan on finding out. For now, I think you should stay here. Don’t wander today.”

“Okay, if you think that’s for the best.”

Sam’s head snapped up when she agreed so easily. “What? No fight from the Mistress Macleod? I’m shocked.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and crawled out from beneath the covers, either unaware or unphased by her vulnerable nudity and positioned herself right beside him. “I’m a Winchester now, remember? And if my Lord husband asks me to do something because he thinks it's best, then I shall grant his wish.”

Sam’s dimpled smile lit up his face, knowing that she was being half truthful and half sarcastically playful. The urgency to leave for the inevitable meeting with the King his guardsman loomed over him, but he was having difficulty pulling away from her and leaving her alone in the bed they just shared. He allowed himself his own moment of vulnerability and let his fingers slowly wander up the silky flesh of her arm, tracing his finger across her collarbone and up to her cheek.

“Thank you.” His voice was rough and low, but she didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, she placed her delicate hand against his stubbled cheek.

“Go, before he sends another Guard rapping,” (Y/N) chuckled, then leaned forward and kissed his lips tentatively. Sam returned her kiss and knew that if he didn’t stop then, his father would quickly be forgotten and he would be tangled up in her all over again.

With a grunt of frustration, Sam stood from the bed and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair by the fireplace. He could still feel the heat of the fire from the night before and smiled at the memory of how they enjoyed it for the entire night. One last look back at the woman now laying in his bed, and he left the chambers to see what fresh Hell awaited him in the War Room.

Every step towards the War Room, Sam could feel his nerves growing and vibrating beneath his skin. The tension was buzzing so loudly in his head, he was having trouble streamlining his thoughts. Luckily he had remembered to grab his cane on the way out, but halfway towards his destination, it finally registered that he needed to add in his now gone limp. By the time he reached the hulking wooden door that led to whatever awful things awaited, he was back in the habit of babying his hip; but not because he physically needed too, whatever (Y/N) had done the night before was holding strong and then some.

Drawing in one long, deep breath, Sam pushed the doors open and used his sharp eyes to survey the room the second he stepped in. To the left were his father’s top advisors, including Bobby and Pastor Jim from the Church of Lawrence. To the right of the room were a dozen or so of the Winchester Guard, standing at attention and waiting for any order the King may decree. In the middle of the room, the ancient table that mapped out the lands for hundreds of miles--including the Elven Woods and the entrances to Purgatory--was set with various pieces representing the Winchester’s army and their current battle plans. Sam noticed another set of pawns added to the table. They were black forms dotted with bright spots of bright crimson. Sam’s gut took a dive as he realized those markers belonged to Crowley’s army of demons.

Looking up, Sam finally noticed his father’s form standing in front of the raging fire, whose snap and crackle was the loudest sound in the room. John was free of his usual Royal garb, and instead dressed in a simple pair of denim pants and black long sleeved shirt. One arm was stretched all the way out, leaning against the stone mantle, while the other hand was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dad,” Sam spoke tentatively, carefully studying his father’s slumped shoulders and lowered head, “what’s going on? Why are you calling court so early?”

John stood motionless for what felt like an eternity. When he finally turned and met his youngest son’s eyes, Sam was taken aback by what he saw in them. The normally stoic, no nonsense King of Lawrence, had wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes that made him look as though he had been crying.

Sam’s gut swelled with sickness, as he considered what could be so bad that it would cause his father to show such a surge of emotion in front of anyone, much less the highest ranking members of his Kingdom. Words were stuck in his throat as he continued to stare at John, unable to force anything more than a trembling breath to expel from between his lips.

“Samuel…” John’s rough voice finally broke through the silence of the room. “I have news from the front lines.” He paused and stood tall, lengthening himself to full height, but still not as tall as the son he was staring down. “It’s your brother, he--”

“Dean? Is he okay? Is he… dead?”

John opened his mouth to speak, but another voice chimed in before the King could answer.

“Come on Sammy, you think I’m gonna let a few Purgatory sonsofbitches take me out?”

Sam whirled around on one heel quickly, a move that would have certainly left him in agonizing pain before (Y/N)’s treatment. He didn’t even think of it, because the voice belonged to his brother, who was now standing right behind him.

“What? No hello for your big brother?”

“Dean,” Sam breathed with a relief sigh, “You’re alive!”

Sam was stunned to see Dean. Speechless, he stared at his brother, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing was real, and not some fever dream. Bruised and battered, Dean stood before his younger brother, his patented smart ass smile plastered across his face and his arms outstretched, palms up, and shaking his head. “Well of course I am. Damn, it's like you have zero faith in me... Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam snorted and rolled his eyes and took the last few steps to embrace his brother. Dean didn’t hold back and hugged Sam just as tightly, smacking his back to accentuate his joy at their reunion. When they finally parted, they gave one final nod of acknowledgement; they’re way of saying, ‘yeah, I’m okay’ without having to actually say it.

“Dean’s return from the front lines is certainly cause for celebration, don’t you think?” John said loud enough to capture the attention of the room. “And now that Samuel is married, on the way to producing an heir, both my sons are on track to fulfil their destinies. If that isn’t a good enough reason to call an early Court, I don’t know what is.”

Sam watched John’s face transform into a grin, but he could feel no genuine happiness radiating from it. There was something else behind his King’s mask that Sam could feel instead… guilt, fear, regret… he wasn’t sure he could pinpoint it, but he knew that his father was hiding something.

“I called this early court because I wanted to discuss a few things before we got down to real business. There is to be a big celebration--”

“Celebration?” Bobby interjected from the shadows. He stepped into view and adjusted his cap nervously. “I don’t mean to barge in here, but, John… c’mon. Now is not the time--”

“Bobby, please. There has been so much blight and pain in the last few years,” John said, then paused to adjust the hint of a smile to appear more heavy than happy. “With Sam’s marriage, and Dean’s return, I think it's appropriate to let the people rejoice for once instead of mourning their loved ones who don’t come home.”

The room fell completely silent. Sam watched as his father starred down the old Maester, and could feel the tension fill the air. Bobby flicked a quick glance Sam’s way--only the briefest of looks--but Sam knew exactly what it meant.

Tread easy boy...

Sam cleared his throat. “I think a celebration is in order,” he agreed, then paused before continuing. Sam was trying to appear diplomatic and act in accordance with his father’s wishes. He didn’t feel a party of any kind was proper, but, if he could find a way to use this to his advantage, he would do what he had to. “I mean, it's not every day my brother returns in one piece. And my wedding wasn’t exactly the happiest of occasions. Now that some time has passed and (Y/N) and I are embracing our commitment, I think a party is a great idea.”

“I’m surprised at you, Sammy,” John snorted. “I thought you, of all people, would be fighting me.”

“No dad, I’m done fighting you. I am here to fulfil my duties and take on the role you need me to take on. Just like Dean did in Purgatory…”

Murmurs of agreement began to radiate from the guardsman that had gathered. Sam noticed John’s demeanor change, and could feel how rigid the King had quickly become. He knew he could leave it there, just agree with John and let it go. But something in his gut told him to push it further, twist this to his favor…

Sam grinned knowingly at John, which seemed to throw the King off even more.

“For the return of my brother. For the joining of Winchester and Crowley lineage--” Sam heard Dean audibly react to the name Crowley, but Sam didn’t chance a look back. Instead, he held John’s dark eyes and twitched another satisfied smirk. “--and for the battles we are fighting in Purgatory against Eve’s most terrifying monsters. Like my father said, it's time to raise a goblet in good cheer, instead of in mourning. So, let’s throw a feast and raise a cup of ale to ‘We, the Hunters and Protectors of Lawrence’! To all of us, those who fight and those who WILL win the fight every day that it rages on!”

The Winchester Guardsman in the room erupted into shouts and cheers just as Sam had hoped they would. The King’s grin expanded, showing off his deeply dimpled cheeks and his perfect teeth. Yet when Sam watched him, he saw nothing but contempt in his father’s eyes.

“All right, all right…” John said in an authoritative, deep voice that immediately quieted the room. “There are still matters to discuss at hand. Yes, we can celebrate, but first, we must strategize. I need to speak with Bobby and Pastor Jim. We will reconvene later to hear what Dean has brought us from the front lines.” John paused from addressing the room and turned to Sam. “Sam, for now, why don’t you take Dean to meet your lovely bride. It’s only right he meets the newest member of our family.”

Sam turned to Dean, who nodded swiftly. “I think that’s a great idea. Would love a chance to catch up with my little brother here, and his new wife. Did I hear correctly… she’s a Crowley?”

“Macleod, actually,” Sam corrected. “But yes, let’s leave the King to his business. You and I have some catching up to do.”

“Dude,” Dean rasped and swiped a smack to the back of Sam’s head. “You married a Crowley?! What the HELL were you thinking?!”

“Dean, relax. First of all, it wasn’t my idea. This was all dad,” Sam scoffed as he walked slowly through the maze of stone corridors leading to his chambers. “Trust me, I was NOT on board at first. I fought dad on this tooth and nail.”

“But yet…” Dean huffed as his arms animatedly waved in front of him, as if he was calling someone safe a home plate.

“Look…” Sam turned and made sure Dean stopped before crashing into him. “I hear you, okay? Don’t think for a second that I went along with this easily.”

“So why did you go along with it at all? He got you brainwashed?”

“No, I just realized that maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.”

Dean choked on whatever words he wanted to say and just stared at his little brother.

“Also,” Sam started then turned and kept moving towards his room, “She’s not a Crowley. Crowley is… Crowley. (Y/N) is Crowley’s daughter.”

“Oh, well, that makes it sooo much better,” Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Sam’s shoulder to make him stop walking.

“Dude, stop for one second… please, explain this to me. How did this happen?”

“Dad told me it was up to me to produce an heir. Your place was on the front lines. Since I am the resident gimp and can no longer fight, my role is to make him a grandpa.” His tone oozed contempt. “Apparently him and Crowley made some sort of deal. We bind our two families by marriage, have a child, and dad gets reinforcements of Crowley’s minions at the front lines of Purgatory.”

Dean snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Right, because demon deals always work in our favor.”

Sam shrugged unsure of how to answer him. Dean was right, demon deals never ended well for the Winchesters. They had centuries of family history donning the castle walls proving that. He turned to start walking again, but once again, Dean made him stop.

Sam could see the shift of Dean’s focus was going somewhere else, so he didn’t argue. Instead, he waited for his older brother to arrive at whatever point he was trying to get too.

“Let me get this straight, because none of this makes sense. Dad wants you to produce an heir with a blood relative to the King of Hell?”

“I know, it seems insane.”

“No, what’s insane, Sam, is that you agreed to it in the first place. Why would you say yes to that? Especially since Crowley is the one who killed Jes--”

“Dean!” Sam barked, loud and with enough assertiveness to make Dean slightly recoil. “I know. Okay, I get it. Maybe it will turn out to be the worst choice I could have made. But when I agreed to it, I had a plan. I was going to kill her to get back at Crowley. Take the life of his daughter as revenge for Jess.”

“Okay… and? Apparently she’s still alive, so what’s stopping you?””

“The plan has since changed. (Y/N) isn’t who I thought she would be. Dean… she’s…”

“Oh God…” Dean buried his face in his palms. “Sammy, don’t… don’t tell me you already knocked her up.”

“No!” Sam

“Ok, good. Because the last thing I need to worry about while slaughtering vamps and ghouls is you playing house with a literal demon spawn.”

“Just meet her, okay. She’s… different.”

“Oh, you mean her eyes don’t glow red and her body isn’t filled with black smoke?”

“No, they don’t. She’s human, Dean. She’s not a demon. She’s human. Though, she’s got some serious knowledge when it comes to magic.”

“Magic? Like… magic, magic?”

Sam nodded and desperately wanted to back up his words by showing his brother how (Y/N) had healed his hip. Instead, he decided to wait. Dean would need more than that if he was to be convinced that (Y/N) was on the level.

“Man, I go away for a year and all Hell breaks loose, literally. So what is the real plan here, Sammy? Because even if the girl is legit, you agreeing with dad leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Dean, just breathe, okay? I promise you, it will all be okay.”

Once Sam left for the War Room, you laid back against the pillows and drew the blankets up to your chin. Fighting the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, you closed your eyes and couldn’t help but think about the night before, spent tangled up with your new husband in the tapestries and sheets. He was an amazing lover; from the moment he had first kissed you, until the moment you fell asleep, he attended to every part of your flesh with a gentle, yet fierce longing you didn’t know could exist.

Not one part of you wanted to want him. In fact the internal struggle that raged between your head and heart was raucous and frustrating. As you lay there with your eyes shut, your hand went to the place between your breasts where the vial of potion normally rested. It was when your hand felt nothing there but your own soft flesh, that you sat up quickly and with force. Panicked, you began to remember more details from the night before.

In the recklessness of tearing at what remained of each other’s clothing, the vial on the thin cord must have been removed and tossed aside. You had a vague memory of realizing it the night before, but you had been too punch drunk and lustful in Samuel’s arms to do much about it then.

Kicking off the covers, grabbing at the robe that lay across the back of the chair, you threw it around loosely and fell to the floor in search of the vial. As you frantically searched the room, your fears were starting to grow that Sam would find it, and you would have to explain… too much. Suddenly fear struck you that he would think you used it on him; that the night you two had spent together was contrived and manipulated as part of your plan. Truth is, that is exactly what it had been for, but there was no need for it. You and Sam found your way to each other naturally and coming to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate it, was something else entirely.

Before you could begin to process that feeling, you had to find the vial. Rooting around on the thick shag throw rug and coming up empty, you moved to under the bed, silently praying you would find it easily. Minutes were passing as if you had all the time in the world, and still the vial seemed to have disappeared. Even in the mess of clothing strewn around the room, there wasn’t a trace of it.

Another panicked thought hit... Sam would be back soon. Too much time had passed now, and you weren’t dressed. If he arrived and found you still half nude in your robe, hair a mess and frazzled, an explanation would be necessary. Nothing that you could say would sound convincing, especially with the bond you two had been forming over plotting against your fathers. Sighing in relent, you got up off the floor and went to the chest where you kept your clothing and personal effects to choose something to wear for the day.

Not too long after putting the finishing touches on yourself, you heard the rumble of the chamber door begin to open. You drew in a steadying breath and turned from your reflection in the ornate wall-hung mirror, to greet your husband. Opening your mouth to speak, you were immediately silenced when you saw that Sam wasn’t alone.

“(Y/N),” he said, a hint of a secret smile on his face as he reached out to take your hand, pulling you towards them both, “my brother has returned from Purgatory. Dean,” he stepped aside so Dean could come forward, “this is my wife, (Y/N).”

Seeing the much-storied Dean Winchester in the flesh was a shock. He must have been the reason the bells were ringing so early on a Tuesday; the joyous news of his return must be making its way through the city by now.

“Wow,” you breathed “It’s wonderful to have you home, My Lord.” You bowed your head and gave the slightest curtsy, unsure of the proper greeting, but not wanting to offend.

“Is this chick for real?” Dean asked in a semi-hushed tone while elbowing Sam in the ribs.

“Shut up,” Sam bit back and shook his head with a snort. “(Y/N), it’s okay, you can drop formalities in front of my brother. He would rather go back to the depths of Purgatory then be called My Lord.”

“I dunno, kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean quipped, very amused with himself until he caught sight of his brother’s eye roll. “Fine,” he said, and turned his attention back to you. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N), I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, so I am sure you will have no trouble living up to the hype.” He flashed Sam another distrustful glance then looked back at you again.

This time though, you could feel the older Winchester brother’s scrutiny as it traveled down your body from your hair to your toes. He examined you quietly as if looking for the marker that would clue him into exactly who you were. Something about the way his green eyes watching you with such distrust made you nervous, as if he could see straight through you and know every thought that staggered through your mind.

“I’m happy to see you home in one piece, Dean. Sam has been very worried for your safety,” you said, trying to keep the nerves in your voice to a minimum.

Dean gave a half-hearted smile. “Well, he wouldn’t be Sammy if he wasn’t worrying about me.”

“And I suppose you worry about him the same.”

“I do. Which is why, if you try anything to hurt him, I can promise you they will never find your remai--”

“Dean!” Sam’s demeanor and tone said all his brother needed to hear.

“Alright, I get it. I don’t know you and I am already being a dick. What can I say, its who I am.”

“I would have you no other way,” you said, returning his half-assed smile. “I can promise you that I am nothing like my father. Crowley is an evil man with evil intentions, who sold me off to his enemy to be a broodmare. He thought I would be miserable, pained… angry. Yet, I take great pleasure in the fact that his plan has so far backfired, and I’ve come to find a wonderful, loving man in your brother. Sure, we had our issues, but I think we are of the same mindset.”

“Meaning?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching you carefully.

“Meaning… neither of us what to help fulfil whatever crap our fathers are plotting. Instead, we want to stop them. End the War. Bring everyone home.”

DEan scoffed. “End the War? Sweetheart, that war is just getting started. Nothing can end it, not even Eve’s monsters killing every last Hunter and Winchester to walk this Earth.”

“We have to try,” Sam spoke up, holding eyes with his brother, then glancing your way.

“And somehow having a kid is part of that?”

“It's what our fathers want,” you replied and shrugged. “I have no desire to be a mother. I didn’t even know my own. And, my grandmother, as much as she has taught me, wasn’t exactly a stellar role model.”

“So why the push towards family planning?”

Sam shrugged. “That’s what we are trying to figure out.”

Dean got quiet and began to slowly pace around the room. His hand thoughtfully rubbed at his mouth and down his chin. He didn’t look at you or Sam at all, but kept his focus on the floor in front of him. After a few moments, he stopped in his tracks and shook his head, as if to clear its thoughts.

“Could that be what they are doing?” he whispered as a question, but Sam wasn’t sure if it was directed to him or if Dean was talking to himself. “God I hope that’s not what she was talking about…” he trailed off, clearing not speaking to Sam now.

“Dean? What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

If Dean heard his question, he ignored it. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Can’t be… John would never…”

“Dean… dad would never, what?”

Dean’s piercing green eyes met with Sam’s then slowly made their way to you. “Sammy, I don’t… the things I heard on the battlefield… I doubt they’re true. But, still.”

“What is it, Dean?” Sam asked, both his impatience and temper starting to rise. “Tell me!”

“I think Dad and Crowley want to sacrifice your child to Eve.”

Series Tags: @theplaid-wearingmoose / @zombiewerewolfqueen / @silkiechicken / @collette04 / @katiecurls75 / @death-unbecomes-you / @colie87 / @roxytheimmortal / @klanceiscannon14 / @voltage-my2dlove / @flamencodiva / @xhannahbananax03

Sam Winchester: @buckyscrystalqueen / @unabashedsoul97

SPN (all): @wings-of-a-raven / @negans-wife / @kazosa / @deans-baby-momma / @hobby27 / @breereadsthings / @maddiepants / @sorenmarie87 / @screechingartisancashbailiff / @winchesterxfamilybusiness / @spnhollis / @unlikelygalaxyiver / @linki-locks11 / @stoneyggirl / @clarinette07 / @lefthologramdeer / @destielhoneybee / @faughnphotography / @katehuntington / @81mysteriouslyme / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @deathofmissjackson / @lauravic / @akshi8278 / @rebelminxy / @idreamofplaid / @fictionalabyss / @blackcherrywhiskey / @his-paradox / @closetspngirl

All Tag Lists are open! If you want to jump on any of these lists, send me an ask with your choice and I will happily add you!

#Sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester AU #Sam winchester x reader #Crowley's daughter #SPN AU #Gothic AU #The Pact Part 6 #The Pact

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