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#cough. anyay
veryaren · 22 days
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KEEP KISSING HIS LIPLESS FACE
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bonus:
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inside you there are two homosexual media consumers
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arctic-hands · 1 year
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Shout out to the one adult in my hometown who tried to protect me from it all: the ER doc who noticed it was the second time I had dangerously severe bronchitis in like two years brought about by my mother constantly smoking around my fragile ass, and threatening to call CPS if she didn't stop and I came back with bronchitis again
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idreamofhazel · 5 years
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The Boyking: Chapter 5
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Masterpost
Characters/pairings: Dean, Bobby, Ash, Jo, Castiel; Dallas, Sam, Ruby (we’ve got a whole ensemble this chapter!)
 Word count: 3.4k
Warnings: This story is overall angsty. Read the masterpost description to get the full idea. I will put specific, important warnings on each chapter unless there are none.
A/N: Thank you all for your patience as I continue working on this story <3
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At noon the next day, a rusted 1971 C10 pulled up in front of Bobby’s house - like most of the vehicles on Bobby’s lot, it had seen better days.
Bobby stepped out on his front porch, Dean trailing behind him. Bobby hollered across the front lot as the passengers opened their doors. “That truck made it here from Nebraska?”
Ash and Jo stepped out of the cab, Jo from the driver’s side.
Ash shut his door and gave the orange-tinged turquoise hood a couple of good pats. “This baby here would take us anywhere. I’ve added a few of my own enhancements.”
“He means we,” Jo said, coming up to the porch to hug Bobby. “And I put a full tank of gas in her as soon as I got your call last night.”
The two quickly embraced. When they had finished, Jo turned to Dean and simply said, “Hey.”
Dean replied with an uncomfortable smile.
Ash came up onto the porch hugging a large file to his chest, most of it hidden underneath one side of his unbuttoned cut-off flannel. He carefully looked around the lot before whispering, “We need to talk... inside.”
Bobby raised his brows at Dean, who mirrored the expression as he opened the front door to let the guests in.
Dean took their small duffel bags and placed them down the hall as they gathered in the sitting room, Bobby offering refreshments for the travelers. He came out of the kitchen with a couple glasses of water as Dean came back to the sitting room.
Dean grabbed Bobby’s desk chair, pulled it close to the coffee table, and sat down. “So, Ash, what’ve you found?”
Ash dropped the file onto the table with a loud slam then opened it somewhere in the middle. He took a paper-clipped stack of pages out of the pile and slid it to Bobby. “Lightning patterns.” Then he took another set of notebook pages stapled together, handing them to Dean. “Other abnormal weather patterns.”
And then he took out another stack of pages and dropped them in front of himself. “And last but not least, unexplainable events.”
“What kind of events?” Dean asked.
“A whole fishing crew in Alaska went blind, for starters,” Ash said, pulling another set of papers out of the file. “I’ve made notes on patterns of events, possible connections. It seems like demonic activity to me.”
Dean coughed and shifted in his seat. He had been ruminating on how he would break the news to them. Maybe if they were already guessing that something big was brewing, they wouldn’t be so surprised when he dropped the news. He felt he had taken it rather well but he was used to dealing with Sam’s… position, all things considered. 
“What do you guys think this all means?” he asked, testing the waters.
Ash looked Dean in the eyes, pointing roughly to his folder. “A war is coming. Hell is brewing something, and it ain’t no Miller Lite.”
Dean could feel Bobby’s heavy gaze on him, not so gently prompting him to go on and spill the news. 
He spoke hesitantly. “Look, I may-- I may know what’s going on.”
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Jo’s tone was harsh, and she stared hard at Dean, her jaw pulled tight.
Dean’s phone rang before he could answer. He looked at the caller ID and stood. “Sorry, give me a second.” He answered the phone as he walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Cas, what’s up?”
“Where are you?” the angel asked brusquely.
“I’m at Bobby’s, why?”
Castiel sighed. “Ok. I’ll see you in a second.”
“What--” Dean said, but the angel had already hung up. No sooner had he put his phone back in his pocket, a knock came from the front door.
Bobby, Ash, and Jo all stood, ready to draw their weapons. 
Dean emerged from the kitchen with his hands up, signaling to them to relax. “I think it’s Cas.”
Dean walked through the house to the front door, peeping through the window. When he saw his trench-coat wearing friend, he opened the door.
“Hey what’s going--”
Castiel walked straight through the door, almost running into Dean as he did so. He pulled a jar of blood out from under his coat and unscrewed the lid. He dipped three fingers in and began drawing a sigil by the door.
“You mind telling me why you’re redecorating my house?” Bobby asked, suddenly in the foyer.
“Warding,” Castiel stated, and that was the only response they got. 
They stood around watching and waiting for a good ten or fifteen minutes, Castiel continuing his tasks until he had at least one sigil by each potential entry point on the first floor.
When he had finished, he came into the sitting room with the rest of them and handed the jar to Bobby. “Touch them up every few days.”
Bobby set the jar down on a table. “You mind telling us what’s going on?”
“You mind telling us who you are?” Jo asked, irritated.
“My name is Castiel, I’m an angel of the Lord, and I need to speak to Dean about an important, urgent matter,” Castiel stated plainly.
“Sweet fancy Moses,” Ash exclaimed. “We’re meeting a real live angel?”
“What the hell, Dean?!” Jo exclaimed. “I thought you said they were dangerous!”
Dean now getting exasperated, ran a hand over his face, hoping his nerves weren’t showing. He didn’t want to drop the news now, in the middle of a surprise visit, but by the looks on their faces, they - Jo especially - wouldn’t stay much longer without an explanation. 
“Okay, just, chill, okay? This one is good, I promise. I’ll explain more later, but you’re right. Something big is happening. It’s uh… it’s the apocalypse.”
Jo looked horrified while Ash appeared as if a light bulb had gone off in his head.
“So it is him?” Jo asked, a new, more hostile anger forming on her face.
“Dean,” Castiel warned. “I don’t have unlimited amounts of time.”
“Ok, ok, just, hang on a second. Bobby, will you explain things to them, just give me a couple of minutes?”
Bobby nodded solemnly, allowing Dean to turn around and face Castiel. Only a few things made the angel this impatient and insensitive, and Dean wasn’t necessarily in a hurry to find out the reason behind his behavior this time.
“Is there a good place to talk?” Castiel asked.
Dean nodded. “Follow me.”
Ash’s excited questions to Bobby and Jo’s angry remarks faded as Dean led Castiel through the house to the basement door, down the stairs, and into Bobby’s homemade panic room. Dean opened the thick, metal door and stepped aside to let Castiel in.
With the door shut and sealed, Dean looked to his friend. “What the hell, Cas? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I know,” Cas said empathetically before his tone returned to one of business. “So I take it you went to see Sam?”
“Yeah. Wish I would’ve known a little more before going in,” Dean said pointedly.
“What did Sam say about the apocalypse?” Castiel asked.
Dean studied the angel’s curious face, making note of the intensity he had tried to hide in his question - and why was Castiel asking him this question?
“Cas, you know I trust you but-- I don’t trust your family. I need to know what’s going on with you first.”
Castiel seemed to consider Dean’s position for a moment before responding, and decided Dean was right. “I’ve been doing various assignments for heaven, mostly surveillance. But now I have the task of tracking down whoever stole an angel blade that was being kept here on earth. I believe you knew the owner, Bela Talbot.”
Dean’s eyes flashed with recognition. He remembered Bela clearly, and it made sense she’d have such a rare, valuable item in her collection. 
“Yeah, but what’s the big deal about an angel blade stolen off a black market dealer? I think we have bigger things to worry about.”
“It’s more about who stole it and why than what they stole. My higher ups seem to think it's all connected.”
Dean nodded. “And Bela?”
“Missing.”
“Damn.” Dean began shaking his head, pacing a little. He wouldn’t say he had liked the woman, but he had appreciated her unique set of skills even if they had been used against him. And he had been relieved when Sam nullified the contract on her soul, something about reforming rules for minors, or whatever. It would suck for all that to happen just to have her killed a few years later.
“I would like you to help me find her, and possibly find who stole the artifact,” Castiel said, interrupting Dean’s train of thought.
Dean stood in place, thinking of Dallas being alone in Hell, wondering if she could wait a couple more days. She was, of course, a free agent; she could leave without speaking to Dean, and he would not stop her, but it was Sam he was worried about. He needed to know if Sam would keep his word.
“Something is troubling you,” Castiel stated. 
Dean returned to reality. “No, I just have something I need to do. I’ll tell you what-- I’ll go with you today, but I have to talk to Sam again sometime tomorrow.”
Castiel hesitated before answering. “I’ll do my best to return you in time,” he finally said.
Back upstairs, Dean could hear Jo angrily talking with Bobby as he approached the sitting room door. When he entered the room, all talking stopped as they each looked at him, expecting answers.
“Something just came up. I have to leave to help Cas. It should only take a couple of days.”
“You’re leaving without explaining yourself?” Jo asked angrily.
“Apocalypse business. Sorry. I’ll catch up to you later this week and explain, I promise,” Dean said. “I’ll come to the roadhouse.
“You better,” she said. “Your chances of getting help are slim anyay.” She walked past Dean, moving her shoulder just in time to avoid hitting him, and walked out the door. 
Ash gave Dean and Bobby an apologetic look. “Guess we’re not hanging around, sorry Bobby.”
The old man shrugged. “I expected worse.”
Ash chuckled. “Anything else you want me to look at, Dean?”
“Yeah, do me a favor and keep an eye on those events, eye witness accounts would be great if we can get them.”
Ash nodded. “Will do. We hear lots of stories at the Roadhouse, shouldn’t be too hard. Oh and Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about Jo. You know how she is.”
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. I think I’m more worried about her mother.”
Ash just laughed and patted Dean on the shoulder as he walked out. 
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Dallas sat cross legged on the four-poster bed, spinning a fire stoker that she grabbed off the fireplace at the other end of the room. She had been waiting for a stray demon to break into her room but sadly, none had been so brave. She stopped spinning the stoker, sighing before looking over the expanse of the bed. It was bigger than any bed she had slept on before; the whole room was luxurious, opulent even, compared to her usual accommodations. Curious about the size of the bed, she reached over to her right to set the stoker on the bedside table. She then scooted a little towards the foot of the bed, laid down, and stretched her arms and legs out like star. She couldn’t reach the edges.
She heard knocking at the door and startled back up into a sitting position. She grabbed the stoker, hopped off the bed, and stood, ready to fight as she called out, “Who is it?”
She was surprised to see Sam Winchester as the door opened. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
A list of painful, terrifying things that Sam could be planning ran through her mind quickly before she focused back on the present. “This is your… castle, or whatever.”
Sam now stood just a few feet from her. “It’s more of a kingdom really, and you’re a guest, so I’ll knock before entering.”
Dallas squinted at Sam, confused, gripping the stoker tighter.
Noticing the weapon in her hand, he took a step back and put up his hands. “I came to talk. I don’t have anything on me.” He slowly turned in a circle, showing her empty hiding places for weapons. 
“Something tells me you don’t need them,” Dallas said. 
“Well, yes, there’s that. You don’t happen to have psychic abilities do you?”
Dallas made a humorous scoffing sound. “Full, red-blooded human here.”
Sam nodded, noticing the veiled insult. “Well, I came here to tell you not to go wandering around. For your own safety,” he said.
“My safety?” Dallas repeated, contempt floating under her words.
“Speaking hunter to hunter--” 
Dallas made another scoffing sound which Sam chose to ignore before continuing.
“You know demons don’t like hunters. And you know demons can be… impulsive. So, I think it’s best for you to only go out when escorted by myself or Ruby.”
Dallas looked him up and down, sat the stoker onto the table, then crossed her arms. “Your demons don’t know I’m here, do they? And I bet they didn’t know Dean was here, either. Because the only other option I’m hearing is that your demons don’t listen to your orders.”
The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up again. “I can tell you’ve got good instincts.”
“I don’t need compliments from you.”
Sam tilted his chin and grit his teeth, his jaw flexing as he tried to keep his annoyance in check. “Right. Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Do you need anything?”
“No,” Dallas said quickly, but her stomach betrayed her, the growl echoing against the stone walls. 
“I’ll have Ruby bring you dinner. Anything else?” Sam asked. 
“I--” Dallas had thought to ask the whereabouts of her bag but stopped herself. “No, I don’t think so.”
Dallas didn’t like the way Sam waited, watching her with a look in his eyes as if he knew she had meant to say something else, as if he were reading her mind. She thought of what food she wanted instead. 
“Well, if you do think of anything, let Ruby know,” Sam said before turning away and leaving. 
This time, the door shut with force, and Dallas smiled at the small victory of annoying the King of Hell. She was beginning to see the cracks in Sam’s façade already. 
But as much as dinner sounded tempting, she wasn’t about to wait around to be checked on again - Sam left the door to her suite unlocked, and Dallas wanted to take a look around Hell.
She opened her door into a dimly lit hall that extended out into darkness on either side. She took a left, figuring that direction was as good as any. As she passed lit torches perched along stone walls, Dallas wondered why Hell hadn’t invested in better lighting. It was near impossible to see far enough in front of herself to know if anyone were coming. 
Dallas slowed her walk, opting to use her sense of hearing over her sight, but the halls of hell were eerily quiet. She expected distant echoes of tortured screams, chains rattling against stone, and cracks of whips, maybe the rush of fire as well. But she only heard the scuffing of her own boots against rock flooring. She didn’t smell anything, either. Now that was the biggest surprise. She did smell smoke as she passed more torches on the walls, taking a right down another passage, but she didn’t smell burning, rotting flesh. Honestly, Hell was underwhelming.
She came across an interesting door, stopping in front of it with a satisfied smile on her face. It was a bit taller and wider than the one to her room, and the whole thing was metal instead of wood. She noticed an unusual symbol on the large doorknob and she reached her hand out to pull open the door but was yanked backwards by someone grabbing her shirt from behind.
“Where do you think you’re going!?” Ruby growled, stepping in front of her and slamming her against a wall. 
Dallas kept her head from smacking against the stone, and when she had gathered her bearings, she blew some of her hair out of face. “Ah, just the demon I wanted to see,” she said, smirking. 
Ruby grabbed Dallas’ arm tightly, dragging her down the hall. 
“I’ll go willingly,” Dallas said, but Ruby didn’t lighten her grip.
“I can take it from here.” 
It was Sam’s voice coming from close behind, and Ruby ground to a halt, seemingly genuinely surprised as his form left the shadows and came into the light. 
“I caught her wandering around,” Ruby spat, shoving Dallas forward.
“I know. She hasn’t been seen by anyone but me,” Sam stated. 
Dallas squinted, immediately suspicious of Sam. Had he been following her?
“Maybe we should keep a lock on the door,” Ruby said.
“That won’t be necessary. But since we’re all here, Dallas, you might as well tell Ruby what you want to eat.”
Dallas had expected Sam to read her mind earlier, so she was oddly disappointed that she had to say what she wanted. She thought for a second, then said, “I’d like some tacos.”
She waited for a reaction in Sam, one that revealed he had expected her order, but if he knew, he made no indication of it. 
He looked at Ruby. “Go. I’ll take her back to her room.”
Ruby stayed silent this time but made sure to show Sam how much she hated being an errand girl by the glare on her face before leaving. Dallas was already sick of Ruby’s attitude; she wondered how Sam didn’t snap at her every time they spoke.
“Follow me, and stay close,” Sam said.
You wish, Dallas thought to herself as she followed Sam back out into the halls. It didn’t take long to reach her room. Dallas kept track of the turns Sam took, making note of every unique crack in a wall or a stone with out of place that could act as landmarks. When they stopped in front of her door again, Dallas was sure she could find her way back to her room by herself if... when… she went exploring again. 
Sam came inside with her after he’d gestured for her to enter first. She could sense his annoyance. She stood, watching as he closed the door, waiting for the lecture. 
“Why would you go wandering around?” Sam said.
Ah, there’s the impatience, Dallas thought to herself. She stood smug as she watched Sam become increasingly exasperated. 
“Well?” he added.
“Why do you think I owe you an answer?” Dallas finally said.
“I guess you don’t,” Sam calmly stated. “But it’s your life on the line.”
“Why do you even want me here if your demons will kill me on sight?”
Sam studied her a moment before answering. “Well I guess now is as good a time as any to ask you my questions, I had hoped for a less hostile setting, but I’m sure you have things to get back to.”
“Wait, you actually want to sit and chat?”
“Well… yes. That’s what I said before.”
Dallas almost couldn't believe her luck - this could be the first step in reaching her goal. But maybe keeping him off-balance was the better play. "I think you're right. This isn't a good time."
“No?”
“No. I’m hungry. And Ruby will be coming back soon. And there is actually something else I need.”
“Ok. What is it?”
“I had a bag with me when Ruby kidnapped me. I would like it back, then I’ll sit down and talk with you.”
“I should be able to have her pick it up while she’s out now. I’m sure she knows where it is,” Sam said.
“Perfect.” Dallas smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Sam stood silent; he appeared as if he didn’t know what else to say but didn’t want to leave the room quite yet. Dallas drummed her fingers on her crossed arms, watching him say and do nothing. 
“Well,” he finally said, “I guess I’ll leave you alone for the evening. Goodnight.”
Dallas raised her eyebrows in response, and Sam took the cue to leave. 
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