#hell yeah moose lore!!!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

holy shit I don't know if you know but on a Livestream last night Yaelokre revealed some new Perrine lore. Perrine's name isn't Perrine and part of their real name is "August"

i wasn’t awake for the livestream, but my friends were, and they were chatting about it in the Discord! they were making jokes about their real name being Augustus lmao

[wendichester]

So since you said you could try another character - I was hoping to see your take on Crowley! Maybe with a Winchester!reader or a bff of the Winchester that's also a hunter?

If he isn't someone you'd feel comfortable or confident writing for, I totally understand! Figured I would ask because I've got total supernatural brain rot for him and Dean rn 😅

⋆.˚ ★ crowley's favorite,

summary. crowley is slowly but effectively starting to grow on you.

pairing. crowley x reader

wordcount. 359

notes. crowley is honestly one of my favorite characters! the charisma, the sophistication... just amazing!

"Darling, if I wanted you dead, I’d have let that vampire rip your throat out five minutes ago."

You huff, crossing your arms as you glare at the King of Hell. "Yeah? And why didn’t you?"

Crowley smirks, brushing nonexistent lint off his expensive suit. "Call it… professional courtesy. Or maybe I just enjoy watching you struggle. Either way, you’re welcome."

"Gee, thanks." You roll your eyes, stepping over the still-smoking corpse of the vamp Crowley had conveniently disposed of with a snap of his fingers. You hate owing demons favors—especially this demon.

"Careful, darling. That tone of yours might make me think you’re ungrateful," he drawls, following you out of the abandoned warehouse.

"You don’t do anything for free, Crowley," you mutter. "So what is it? What do you want?"

He clicks his tongue, eyes glinting. "Always so suspicious. And here I thought we were friends."

You let out a short laugh. "Yeah, friends. Because friends blackmail each other, trade souls like poker chips, and show up uninvited constantly."

Crowley sighs dramatically. "You wound me, love."

You glare at him.

"Fine," he concedes, rolling his eyes. "Maybe I do have a small request."

"There it is." You shake your head. "Spit it out, Crowley. I’ve got actual work to do."

"Touchy," he mutters, but his smirk returns. "I may or may not need a certain book currently in the possession of your moose."

You narrow your eyes. "Sam’s lore books? No way. Not happening."

Crowley sighs. "It’s hardly dangerous. Just a little light reading on Enochian runes. Nothing sinister. Scouts honor." He raises two fingers.

"You were never a Scout."

"Details, details."

You cross your arms. "No deal. But thanks for the assist tonight."

He tilts his head, studying you like you’re some puzzle he enjoys trying to solve. "One day, you’ll need my help, darling. And when that day comes, I do hope you remember how generous I’ve been."

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t hold your breath, Crowley."

His smirk deepens. "I don’t breathe."

With an exaggerated wink, he vanishes in a swirl of black smoke, leaving you standing there, half-annoyed, half-amused.

The bastard really was growing on you.

[edgeray]

oh yes i meant when the reader is pregnant if u can, not in a nsfw way im sorry i made it unclear😭

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 4

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N -Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  It is once again dragon time, guys. I've written three dragon-related things straight 😩. The part you guys have been waiting for. Actual romance, hell yeah. Extra fluff for that one annoying moot (you know who you are 😡). It’s a bit short compared to the other parts for this series, but probably because there's no new lore dump. Guys, I’ve thought so far into this au, please feel free to ask questions about this AU outside of requests. I am dying to talk about random bits of lore I made up (such as Arle's backstory that I won't be able to write). Also this isn't the end. Because there is going to be a Part 5. What the fuck, guys /j.  Hi anons!! Yes, you can be 🦊 anon and 👅anon. I'm sorry for how late this was first anon, I know I kept you for a while 😭. Also I'm sorrry for not being able to fulfil parts of your request because a) jealous arle wouldn't make sense given the worldbuilding, and b) i don't write nsfw of any kind. Sorry. I'm not going to include how exactly you're pregnant because it makes me uncomfortable writing it, so I'll just leave it up to your interpretation.  Please don't let these discourage you from requesting from me :). I always try my best to satisfy every request as long as it's reasonable and within my rules.  Content warnings / info - no warnings :), 1.8k words

Recovering from the infected wound didn't take long–in fact, it only took a week to be fully healthy, and the wound was healing nicely. Arlecchino was able to take care of everything while you were bedridden. You were surprised by how diligent and aware she seemed to be of taking care of you, especially as a dragon, but you didn't question it. She has had several decades of experience before you, you wouldn't be surprised if she picked up on a few things about humans. 

It's been about four months since the dragon hunters incident, and you have yet had another situation like that. Venturing into the town you had previously been going to was no longer safe, and so you began frequenting another bordering village. It was a bit further away, but because it turned out to be a port town, it ended up providing you with a lot more food and resources you previously couldn't access; including: fresh fish, more meat and produce, and more clothes and fabric. 

The trio have grown big enough to which you ride on top of one of them with no difficulty. They not only increased in size, but also their affection for you, crawling into your lap or climbing your back, or simply pouncing on any limb and holding onto you tightly. The same could be said for you, you no longer saw them as children, but your children. Arlecchino tells you that they refer to you as ‘Mother’ often.

Speaking of Arlecchino, she is no longer the standoffish dragon she was before the dragon hunters incident. On certain days, she can be just as clingy, if not more, than the children, although she would vehemently deny it with a scoff if you are to ever bring it up. Over time, she was less dragon, and more human to you, and with that, your attraction towards her continued to blossom. Your current relationship status with her is still strange, neither of you had ever labeled it on human standards, nor have the two of you ever ‘courted’ one another–in human or in draconic methods. Still, neither the two of you could miss the glances or the way you hold each other. 

Lately, the past few weeks, she has been acting strange. She's been exiting the cave more often alone, leaving you with her children to tend to, not that you mind. She returns hours later, usually with some type of wild animal she caught for you: deer, the occasional bear or moose, sometimes even pigs. You often stand at the entrance of the cave, dumbfounded as she drags the dead creature by her teeth in her dragon form, while the hatchlings salivate. If it's not wild animals, it's usually an arrangement of different colored stones she found along the shores or in the river. You appreciate them, but you're no less puzzled by the intention with each gift. 

You tried to wrack your brain of why she would be behaving like this, but you can’t come up with anything. It also seemed like with every gift you received, she became more and more… saddened? You weren't entirely sure for the reason, but you don't want to offend her by questioning her more. As the weeks pass by, and she disappears more and more, it seems like Arlecchino is… moping. 

You have asked the children multiple times, but all they do is give you a pointed look before jerking their head towards their Father and letting out a rumble. When you approach Arlecchino, asking what was troubling her, all she does is shake her head, her subtle pout ever so slightly intensifying. Finally, having enough of Arlecchino staring blankly at her hands for hours straight, you finally come up to her, taking her clawed hands in yours and gaze into her eyes. 

“Arlecchino. Tell me what's wrong,” you demand gently but firmly, kissing her knuckles.

The dragon stays silent, turning away from you, making your eye twitch. 

“Please…” You plead. 

Arlecchino seems hesitant to answer, opening her mouth before closing it several times. She contemplates something deeply, then lets out a steady exhale. 

“I've been… making courting attempts towards you,” she quietly admits, her cheeks flushing the slightest amount. “But… it seems like you're unreceptive to it because you're human.” 

Courting attempts? As if she was trying to establish a romantic relationship with you? No, it’s not courting as in ‘human courting.’ If it has to do with dragons, then perhaps it means–

“You… you want me as your mate?” You whisper out loud, your face undeniably warm at the realization, and your lips quirk up to the faintest smile. 

The dragon nods timidly, so unbefitting for a strong beast like herself. She peers at you intently, searching and analyzing every twitch of your face to come up with her own answer. You let out a huff, raising your arms to cup the sides of her face in your palms. The cold texture of her skin will never be an unwelcome sensation. 

“You could have told me instead of pouting like one of our children,” you chuckle, stepping closer to lean your forehead against her chest, feeling her thumping heart through it. 

“I didn't know if you wanted to be since… you never responded to my attempts. I know that it's silly seeing that you're human, but I felt more and more discouraged…” Her voice is low and vulnerable, and it makes you want to do nothing more but hold her in your arms forever.  

“You really still have so many things to learn about humans,” you giggle, pressing your lips against her nose. Fingers card through Arlecchino's silky locks, and you hum contently.

 “What do you mean?” 

You grin knowingly. “We like more direct expressions of our desires.” 

You stand on your tiptoes before leaning in, warm lips gracing cold ones as you pull her towards you. Your arms lock around her neck, keeping the two of you against each other. Quickly, Arlecchino responds, pressing her mouth against yours fervently while her fangs prick your bottom lip. You groan into the kiss, and squeak when her hands slide down to your behind, lifting you up from your feet and wrapping your legs around her waist. 

The two of you pull away, and there's almost a feral look in her eyes. 

“There's somewhere I have to take you to,” she growls in your ear, and you can't deny that it makes your stomach coil, your loins burning.  

“Okay…” You murmur, holding onto her tightly. She carries you with ease, walking out of the cave and following along the edge of the mountain's base. It takes only about ten minutes until you spot a small opening, another cavern. Arlecchino takes you inside, and your eyes widen at the sight.

It's a nest, a careful structure supported by stones as the foundation with the sides from branches and sliced tree trunks, before the top is covered in an assortment of blankets and pillows. However, it's smaller and cozier than the nest at home–as if it's made for humans. You carefully step into it, sitting down and finding it pleasantly comfortable. 

“Arlecchino…” you gasp out with whispered awe. 

“Yes…?” 

“Where did you get the money for this?” You question, holding a heap of the numerous silk blankets in your arms, giving her a pointed look knowing damn well it wasn't your money. 

The dragon brings a claw to her face and scratches nervously. “I had Lyney search the bodies of the dragon hunters for anything of value. They had quite a hefty sum,” Arlecchino confesses. 

You sigh in relief, glad that no weaver or innocent person was harmed in getting this. “It's lovely. Is this what you've been leaving the cave for for so long?” 

Arlecchino nods, her voice bashful. “It's… it's a mating nest, so that if it were to happen the children would not be there. I wanted to ask you here…” 

The dragon walks inside the nest, before kneeling down before you, her clawed hands gingerly finding yours and holding them in her large palms. “Would you like to be my mate?” 

“I thought my answer was obvious. Of course,” you answer, smiling. “But isn't mating season in another two months?” 

She nods in response. “I wanted to prepare as early as possible. I wanted everything to be perfect.” ‘For you,’ she leaves out, but you know it's what she implies.

“It is perfect. Thank you… though I feel bad,” you murmur, your own face flustered by your embarrassment. “It took me this long to realize. I guess… I should make it up to you by courting you back, right?” 

Arlecchino flushes, her face visibly reddening. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you've courted me with how dragons usually do it. I will do the same, but with humans. Does that sound alright?” You offer, giving her the largest grin. 

Arlecchino's face softens, leaning down and pressing her forehead against you. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds alright,” she murmurs against your lips. 

—

Three months have passed by since then. 

Safe to say, you’re pregnant. 

Arlecchino’s attentiveness towards you had always been impressive, but it borders on extreme with how much she pampers you. Before the mating season, you've taught her all you can about human civilization and socialization so that in the instance you won't be able to travel to town yourself, she can instead. While you always have saved up a lot of money from your time as a dragon hunter, she likes to spend it on you unreservedly. 

It would be endearing if it weren't the excessive amount of blankets in the nest, as if you weren't warm enough. Not to mention the amount of books she's gotten you. Since she doesn't exactly know how to navigate a bookstore, or how to differentiate between different genres of books, she’s gotten you dictionaries, children's book, erotica even. She was blissfully unaware why you read a page for a few seconds, shut the book immediately, took a deep breath before reopening the book, only to reshut it as well, repeating the same process. You didn't want her to get any… ideas. 

Currently, Arlecchino was in her dragon form, nestled around you   protectively from any gusts of wind that may pass through the cave entrance, her tail thumping against the floor softly. Her head rests besides you, her throat rumbling gratifyingly as you run your hand over her snout. 

The trio are currently fighting over some of the beef jerky you mistakenly bought for them, unaware of the chaos it would ensue in the cave. They seem to forget that you can return to the town to buy them more… Ah well, hatchlings will be hatchlings. 

You wonder how much more lively the cave will be with another one. 

[nossumusstellae]

yellowjackets s2 ep 3 + 4 + 5

yes I binged. yes it is nearly 3am. yes I am going to bed now.

SCHEDULED POST. obviously.

Goddess this season is a music goldmine :D

strap in for a wall of text.

I want to note... the timeline issues? Are just. So inexcusable. The writers forgetting details they themselves put in... just. Laziness in a show that is otherwise written very well. Especially in a show that drip feeds details.... I am beginning to wonder if there even is any lore to cabin guy and the symbol... supposedly there is, but... if they don't show us, then it doesn't exist. I do hope season 3 holds answers because so far season 2 is not it. Beyond symbol = cursed, wilderness spirit thing.

spoilers below (again. sorry for the wall of text)

oops forgot to tag you @write-with-will

EPISODE 3

Aww hi paul

That gives new meaning to the phrase “eat the rich”... and also “ate my face”

oh hi there RANDY

ugh can we just skip the Shauna/Jeff crap I swear most of these scenes are just useless filler...

Fun fact skeletons do not stay together like that. With no ligaments or muscles (which were uh... you know) the bones just fall apart. That spine would be in pieces, that hand would no longer be together... you get the idea

No Lottie, can we stop saying Jackie would have wanted that are you NUTS?

Misty is a terrible fake FBI agent XD

*slaps Randy* DUDE WHAT THE FUCK o.O

Ah! Spirit moose! (not albino, but a complete lack of melanin – called leucism! These “spirit” animals, such as moose and bears, are considered sacred by many aboriginal people of both Canada and the US)

hee hee *whirrrrrrr* (yes I found that amusing sue me)

Never piss off Shauna when she’s holding a weapon, don’t these people ever learn? *sighs*

“A bored Moriarty” said no good person ever

Natalie sitting there halfway to an Ace flag XD (black, grey, purple... just missing white)

Yeah I’m with the group the symbol is CURSED

Oh my goddess STARLINGS wtf they don’t stick around that far north you FUCKING MORONS *facepalms in Canadian*

oh that song during the beehive scene is just so haunting...

AND WHERE THE FUCK IS JAVI I need answers

EPISODE 4

I am beginning to wonder if Tai is possessed or something...

Oh my goddess the CGI cold breath is just DRIVING ME INSANE (fake snow I can deal with. But the fake breath that looks AI generated? Fuck off with that shit)

HA one of those reveal the naked lady pens XD

aww piebald (?) mouse

ah the sacred hollow tree stump again

Girl. You in a cult. Just. Admit it already?

Yeah, let’s just tell Callie you’re a killer what could possibly go wrong?

Symbol trees make symbol of course they do

Ben imagining the what if I moved in with Paul timeline just... hurts. </3

Did Nat. Just. Oh my goddess I love this girl “here’s your fucking fish” XD

WHAT THE FUCK – BIPLANE – WHAT – IT BLEW UP -TEDDY BEAR!!! WHAT THE HELL .... oh. It’s a vision. ah. Right......

oh going on a frozen lake is SUCH A BAD IDEA >-<

goddess the hotel flashbacks (I too, have put remotes into bags. And used lysol on phones. And toilets)

Okay. First things first. WRAP IN FOIL BLANKET. DO NOT IMMERSE HYPOTHERMIC PERSON IN WATER OF ANY TEMPERATURE IT WILL KILL THEM BY CAUSING A MASSIVE DROP IN BLOOD PRESSURE AND STOPPING THE HEART. Warm the torso with warm blankets, and a warm (NOT HOT) beverage such as tea. Warm the person AS SLOWLY AS POSSIBLE. For fucks sake writers, DO YOUR RESEARCH!!!! Y’all just killed Nat AND Lottie you morons!

Oh hey JAVI!!!

AAHH VAN!!! present day Van!!!

EPISODE 5

Racecar VHS player??!?! fucking awesome! :D

Ferris Beuller day off spotted! (wonderful film btw, everyone needs to see it)

Okay I am. Teensy bit jealous of Van’s Queer Movie Store. Just. Teensy. Okay. So A LOT JEALOUS.

And now Callie knows he’s a cop...? Really? The guy SCREAMS “I’m a cop!”

Nugget the mouse <3

Misty and her friend... ugh. And we know Crystal is probably going to die...

She told cop guy... it was Randy? Why does Randy always get dragged into everything poor guy

Is it just me or is Shauna getting... stupid in season 2? She feels much less... clever.

No shit Javi doesn’t trust any of you, after what he saw! Probably saw they uh... what do the fans call it again? “Snackie” affair?

I wonder when Nat is going to spill that “Charlotte” is Lottie.

Uh oh. Nat’s been cult-ed. Or is she? ^-^

Eeeeewww poop bucket oh that is oh my goddess just eww

Why. Why do it have feeling. Something bad is about to go down on this cliff side... annnd I’m right

Wait a second. Where did the poop she just tossed over go?

Ran-dawg? Oh goddess

It’s a cult, Nat, they are brainwashed...

*squeezes then sniffs condom* oh goddess

Oh yes just go outside in a CANADIAN BLIZZARD IN THE ROCKIES lovely way to get yourselves frozen

Ack evil Tai

Nat overdose scene... so what was that? An alternate reality? Or did that actually happen and the Deer Woman spirit saved them all...?

[whenimgod]

It has unfortunately occurred to me that fanon representations of Kevandriel are perfect to describe what I meant when I said only vibey Aesthetics, compelling Dynamics, and a hilarious Bit matter to me when discussing interpersonal sensual/sexual/romantic exchanges and intrapersonal labeling and identifications which only occurred to me when thinking on The Bit being 'hilarious' made me realize someone might think I meant 'hilarious' in a mocking way when what I really meant was a "Your sweater is fucking atrocious" "I know right??? I love it!!!" kind of way.

Case in point:

Kevandriel as Aesthetics - three men, posted up in garish orange, a 5' nada Angry Black Cat, a 5'3" Paranoid Trash Racoon, and a 6'1" Anxious Moose respectively

Kevandriel as Dynamics -

Tiny Angry Black Cat carries knives and will pop off with unapologetic impunity to protect him and his, wearing nothing but an immaculate Resting Bitch Face and finishing fights his idiots keep starting when he isn't looking

Slightly Less Tiny Paranoid Trash Racoon dedicated to Staying Alive At All Costs and yet still constantly manages to run his fucking mouth to any and every person willing and ready to kill him just to see their face twitch a lil bit, wearing nothing but a feral grin while starting fights he will not finish

Giant Anxious Moose with a demanding and overbearing obsession about his and his loved ones health and athletic skills because he knows that they're capable of great things and if he has to shove a healthy smoothie down your fucking gullet then so be it, wearing nothing but a petulant scowl and being dragged into fights he desperately tried to avoid in the first place

Kevandriel as The Bit - 5' nothin Angry Black Cat Hard Dom Top Always will handcuff you if you touch him (unless you ask first), 5'3" Paranoid Trash Racoon Switch Vers gets in where he fits in cus he's just happy to be there, 6'1" Anxious Moose Subby Bottom god help him

This is what I mean. Are the aesthetics a vibe? Fuck Yeah They Are. Are the dynamics compelling? You bet your ass, look at all that Lore (crying). Is The Bit hilarious? Five foot nothing knife wielding man tops a six foot one tall professional athlete, hell yeah, this Bit is fucking side splitting (affectionate)!

[queen-rowenas]

destiel december 2020 - doing this thing hosted by @jellydeans and @galaxycastiel

day 10 - mistletoe (wc - 1.3k)

“I think we might have a problem,” Dean said, walking into his—secretly their—bedroom, holding up a sprig of mistletoe.

Cas set his book down, a deep frown on his face. “Is it cursed?”

“Wha—No, it’s just regular mistletoe.”

“Oh.” Cas stepped closer, looking from the bundle of leaves to his boyfriend’s face, and kissed him. Dean immediately melted into the touch, smiling against his lips before forcing himself to pull away.

“No. I mean, yes, but...” Dean shook his head, that stupid smile still on his face. “I mean, these are literally everywhere. I think Sam hung them all over the bunker.”

And yes, they were everywhere. Sam had left early to help Charlie and Stevie on a hunt, but he had obviously been busy that morning. Dean and Cas combed through the whole bunker and almost every doorway, light fixture, and shelf had mistletoe.

“I think he’s finally snapped,” Dean said, looking up at the sprig hung at the bathroom door.

“I think we need to tell Sam that we’re romantically intimate now.”

Dean grinned because they were romantically intimate and of course Cas would call it that. They were going to wait until Christmas to tell Sam, make it like a Christmas present. It would be fun, and it would be one less gift for him to buy.

“Or.” Dean’s grin grew bigger. “We could mess with him.”

Cas nodded, his face serious. “He did use some of the plants from my garden for a spell recently.”

“Exactly! Let’s get him back.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Dean laced their fingers together. “Now, it’s gonna take like a lot of self-control...but we can’t kiss.”

Cas glanced up at the mistletoe. “You want to make Sam think his plan has failed.”

“Yeah, it’ll drive him crazy.”

“So I can’t kiss you under the mistletoe?” And the pout that formed on Cas’s face was nearly enough to make Dean call it off then and there.

Instead, he pressed him up against the doorframe, ghosting his lips over his. “Let’s get it all out of our system before he gets back.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

The first time it happened, Sam and Dean were about to head out on a case with Cas. Something about a vamp nest taking out carolers.

As Dean shrugged on his jacket, he became aware of Sam lagging behind him a few steps. And just as they rounded the corner...yep, there was Cas and there was the mistletoe. Dean’s mind raced to what he and Cas had talked about in the midst of their mistletoe make-out: the Elf Contingency.

Just as he was about the reach the doorway, Dean whirled around. “Oh! Almost forgot my keys. You guys go on ahead.” And he jogged back down the hall towards his room, trying hard not to laugh at Sam’s loud sigh behind him.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

It really came down to timing, strategically entering rooms at different times, avoiding areas with an especially high concentration of mistletoe. But sometimes there were a few miscalculations.

Like when Dean, Cas, and Sam all ran into each other at the kitchen door. Cas just stared at Dean, mouth hanging open but at a loss for words, and Sam had the audacity to smirk at the two of them.

“Well, I’m not kissing you,” Sam said, giving Dean a pointed look.

And that’s when Dean switched to the Die Hard contingency because desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Good,” he scoffed and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You two have fun.” And then he turned and walked into the kitchen.

Sam sputtered behind him, but Dean kept his focus on the box of cereal on the top shelf. After a beat, he glanced back to see the most awkward kiss on the cheek in history and two scowls pointed at him.

Sam left with a rough cough, and Dean could only grin as Cas immediately advanced on him. The angel waited until Sam’s steps had receded before pushing Dean up onto the counter.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

“What the hell, man?”

Dean froze where he sat in the library, books and lore spread out on the table in front of him, as Sam came charging in, his giant moose feet stomping.

Here we go. Dean looked up at him. “What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem?” Sam gaped at him. “Have you not noticed all the mistletoe I put up?”

“Yeah, man. But listen,” Dean grew serious, turning to face his brother fully. “I don’t think you need to worry. I mean I think Eileen is pretty into you, so you don’t really need it.”

Sam looked about one push away from losing it, judging by the vein in his forehead. “What—It’s not—We’re engaged!”

“I know, and I’m not judging.”

Dean briefly thought about moving his research in case Sam flipped a table because Mr. Vein was really making an appearance.

Just as Sam opened his mouth to speak, Dean’s phone rang. Saved by the bell.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

The next few days went about the same. A lot of close calls, one loud cheek kiss from Dean to Eileen, and more sightings of Mr. Vein. The thing was...the plan to counter Sam’s Operation Mistletoe was starting to backfire.

Because Dean had no problem taking advantage of all the mistletoe with Cas. The two would pass in the hall and Cas would already be smiling whenever Dean dragged him to the side. And the chance of being caught added a new thrill to the already thrilling experience of kissing Castiel.

But too often now, Cas would have Dean pressed into the wall or vice versa, and the sound of Sam’s moose steps would echo down the hall, and Dean would throw himself through the door or Cas would disappear with a flap of his wings.

It was becoming really inconvenient.

Dean dropped into the seat across from Cas at the kitchen table, trying to straighten his hair where Cas’s fingers had been running through it. “I think maybe we didn’t quite think this through.”

Cas nodded. “Sam has sat down to explain to me the mistletoe tradition three times now.”

Giving up on his hair, Dean dropped his hands with a sigh. “We gotta tell him.” He pointed at Cas. “Because I want to kiss you.”

Cas leaned across the table, his face hovering just in front of Dean’s, and Dean was helpless to do anything but meet him halfway.

A scuffle of footsteps sounded at the door, and Dean broke away, whipping around to look.

“Are you kidding me?” He groaned and dropped his head on the table.

Eileen raised a hand to cover Jack’s eyes. “Finally,” she said, signing with a tired hand, “Can you tell Sam before he goes crazy?”

“We’re trying!”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Sam didn’t get back to the bunker until later in the evening. Dean was hunched over some old book on Norse mythology with Cas beside him texting Jody.

“Any idea what they’ve got in Sioux Falls?” Sam asked, readjusting his hold on the grocery bags in hand.

Dean didn’t even glance up, only muttering, “Maybe, we’re still working on it.”

“Huh, well I can check the archives once I put these away.”

Just as Sam starting to leave, Dean’s head shot up. “Wait!” He lunged across the arm of his chair, took Cas’s face in his hands, and kissed him hard.

Dean dropped back in his seat and threw out his arms. “There! We’re together. Happy?”

Sam looked back and forth between the two before heaving a sigh, his whole body sagging with it. “Finally. I’ve been busting my butt trying to catch you guys.”

“You’re tired? We’ve been trying to not get caught kissing for days.”

“Well.” Sam smiled, something warm and soft. “I’m happy for you guys.”

Dean looked over at Cas as the angel laced their fingers together, and he smiled. “Thanks, man.”

“But I don’t want to catch you guys making out in the hall now.”

“Well, too bad.”

[babyboywilson]

Tinsel and Tourists Chapter Nineteen

Word Count: 1,607 (chapter continued under the Read More)

Dean’s POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

Bonus: Link to Destiel December Family Ficlet Day 9 (posted earlier today if anyone wants some gingerbread decorating fluff)

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Dean yelled, slamming his fist down against the Impala’s hood with enough force that his hand ached. No. This wasn’t happening. Not Cas. Fuck that. He was not letting Cas slip out of his life that easily. “We have to get him back. Right fucking now. I can’t- I cannot lose him, Sam. I think I love-” Dean said, violently cutting the sentence off when he realized what he was saying.

Sam gave him a sympathetic look. “We’ll find him. We’ll find both of them. But why Cas? Why Libby?” Sam asked.

Dean felt like his blood was boiling. “Not Libby. It wasn’t targeting her. She was in Cas’ house. It was looking for him”

“But why target Cas? He’s like the epitome of a good man,” Sam said, picking up the journal and looking at it again, searching for anything useful.

Desperately, Dean tried to find something- anything- bad about Cas. But he couldn’t. Maybe it was the rose-tinted glasses and the fact he was well and truly in love with Cas… and then it hit him. “He’s not bad, Sam. He’s just a sinner.”

Sam turned, looking at Dean as if he’d grown three heads. “What are you on about?”

“Maybe the reason we couldn’t find anything incriminating about Callie and Oliver is because there wasn’t anything. Not to us. But druid’s are religious, powerful priests that protect their society. They’re pretty hell bent on purging out anything they perceive as a threat in order to appease their God. They were, and still are, judge, jury, and executioner.

“Cas is gay. Homosexuality is a form of one of the deadly sins. Lust, right? What if they’re all sinners in different ways, even if those things aren’t necessarily seen as sins anymore? What if Callie was an alcoholic? Gluttony in the form of over-indulgence. You said Oliver was one of the most popular, well-liked teachers? What if some other teacher threatened that by rising in popularity with the kids and Oliver was jealous and acted on that jealousy? Envy.”

"Sinners in the biblical sense. Even if they aren't actually doing anything wrong," Sam said, nodding in agreement. "Alright, well then we just go back to the clearing and rescue them. Easy."

"No. Not easy at all. Unless you just so happen to know the lore for killing druids? And Callie and Oliver were missing for a week before they were killed. Which means they were being held captive somewhere. Cas could be anywhere right now,” Dean said, tears burning his eyes. He’d just found Cas, and the thought of losing him was agonizing. He should’ve protected him. Or maybe he should’ve never got involved with Cas in the first place. Would Cas be any safer if Dean wasn’t around? Or would Cas always have been targeted?

“Alright. We need a plan. And we need one fast. Think rationally, Dean. Dad wrote that oak forests are sacred to them, right? Hence why the rituals were happening in the clearing with the biggest oak tree. So maybe Cas and Libby aren’t far? If it sticks to the woods, maybe it’s keeping them in some cave or bunker nearby? Why keep them far from the sacrificial altar?” Sam said.

Distantly, Dean was grateful Sam was keeping a level head, because right now, he couldn’t seem to get a single cohesive thought that wasn’t Cas and sheer panic.

“Right. Okay. I’ll go and search the forest for them-”

“And I’ll call Bobby and find a way to kill it. He mentioned earlier that fire has ties to Celtic rituals. There might be a way to harness that and use it to gank the thing.”

With a sharp nod, Dean opened the trunk and pulled out two aerosol cans and flashlights, tossing one of each to Sam. “It’s not enough, but it just might hold it at bay long enough for you to find a more permanent solution.”

Pushing the can into his pocket, Dean made sure he had his lighter and gun before he took two steps towards the forest. Sam’s voice cut through the air, making him pause. “We’ll find him, Dean. There’s still time.”

Dean clenched his teeth together until his jaw ached. Keeping his back to his brother, Dean said, “So help me God, if I lose him, I’ll make any deal with any demon to bring him back.”

Before Sam could answer, Dean pulled his gun from his waistband and made his way back into the forest with the flashlight guiding the way.

Finding his way back to the clearing wasn't difficult. It was almost as if the mistletoe were like bread crumbs, growing thicker and more bountiful the closer he got to the clearing. Moving back towards the makeshift altar, Dean reached down, pressing his fingertips to the stained blood. "Where are you, you sick son of a bitch?" Dean said, flashlight beam moving about the clearing, looking for some kind of opening or sign of disturbance.

Then he saw it. Flecks of blood on a tree across the clearing. "Gotcha."

Pushing himself up from a crouch, he crunched across the snow, dodging between a couple of closely intertwined trees to see a couple more splotches of blood. "For the fact you drain the blood for omens, you're sloppy," Dean scoffed. But then he imagined it was Cas' blood and he felt his stomach roil.

Moving between the trees with a faster pace, Dean made sure to drop each footfall with heavy pressure, leaving a noticeable trail for Sam to follow. He darted the beam of light around his surroundings on every other step, desperately searching for some kind of shelter.

"Please, please. God, please. I'll do anything. Just let me find him alive," Dean said, words slipping out into the empty silence of the forest.

Every minute that passed as Dean ducked under branches and stepped over roots felt like he was being flayed alive again just like his stint in Hell. But this felt worse. Not knowing if Cas was still alive. It was agonizing. Dean had never felt pain like this; suffocating and paralytic, heart in his throat in absolute terror.

The trees started getting thicker, branches reaching out and snapping Dean across his cheeks in his haste. Not that he even noticed the stinging pain; too busy focusing on the task at hand.

'Find Cas, find Cas, find Cas,' looped through Dean's head, each time it repeated the panic creeped up higher and higher in Dean’s throat. Just when Dean was beginning to lose hope, he spotted it. Fresh blood splattered in stark contrast to the white snow.

Stumbling forwards, Dean veered off, half looping back to follow the red staining drops. Five seconds, ten, fifteen, and then he saw it. Hidden beneath the tree cover, an almost fully concealed opening between two large rocks. A cave.

Breaking out into a run, Dean clicked the safety off on his gun and turned his flashlight off just as he got to the entrance of the cave. His heart froze for a second, knowing this was the moment he'd either find Cas alive or… No. He couldn’t think that.

Taking a deep breath, Dean swung his body into the cave, gun up and ready to attack. Almost immediately he spotted a body tied up, head slumped over as blood tricked to the floor. Libby.

Dropping to his knees, Dean slid his fingers onto her neck, feeling for a pulse. A sigh of relief slipped past his lips as he felt a steady thrum beneath his fingertips.

"Libby? Hey, Libby, come on," Dean said, shaking her shoulders gently. Libby’s eyes flew open, and her mouth dropped on a scream, but Dean scrambled to slide his hand up over her mouth. "Shh. It's okay. It's Dean. I'm here to help," he said, pushing her hair from her face to check for major injuries.

Just as he shifted to check the back of her head, his eyes caught sight of another body tied a few feet away.

"Cas," Dean choked out the second he recognized that beautiful messy mop of hair, lurching forwards towards him. He tipped Cas' head back, one hand cupping Cas' cheek as the other searched for a pulse.

Please. Please. Please God.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Dean choked on a sob, tears springing to his eyes and heart leaping in his chest as he felt Cas' pulse steadily against his finger. Sliding his other hand up to Cas' jaw, he stroked his thumbs over Cas' cheek bones. "Hey, sweetheart. Open your eyes. Wake up, Cas. Come on, beautiful. Show me those baby blues," Dean coaxed quietly. Moving his hands up, Dean stroked his fingers into Cas’ hair softly.

Cas’ eyelids fluttered a couple of times before he slowly opened his eyes, gaze hazy before squinting and focusing on Dean in the dark. Dean heaved a deep breath, tipping his forehead against Cas’ gently. “Thank God. Hey beautiful. It’s alright, I’ve got you,” Dean murmured.

“Dean?” Cas garbled out, leaning into Dean’s touch instinctively.

“Yeah, it’s me. Thought I told you to watch yourself and stay safe?” Dean said, reaching down to untie Cas.

“Maybe I just wanted you to come and save me?” Cas said, rubbing at the back of his head gingerly.

“Well, mission accomplished. I’m here to rescue your cute ass. Now let’s get out of here before-” Dean started to say, but he was cut off.

“Dean?” Libby cried out from the other side of the cave.

Spinning around, Dean pushed Cas behind him to protect him, just as he came face to face with the druid.

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine​ @bibelphegor​ @likepurplemuses​ @expectingtofly​ @neo-neo-neo​ @shadowywerewolfqueen​ @a-sweet-indisposition​ @feraladoration​ @xojo​

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@bri-winchester​ @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood​ @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

[ellen-of-oz]

3: Demonic

For Suptober / s15 / 488 words / M

"You ever miss Crowley?" Sam asks, out of the blue.

Dean looks up from the book of warding spells he's been trying not to fall asleep on for the last half hour. "Huh?"

Sam huffs, half a grin on his face. "Crowley? Y'know, kinda short British guy? King of Hell? Saved our asses?"

Dean gives Sam a flat look. "Yeah, thanks, I got it—and the answer's no. I'm still kinda pissed at him for getting himself dead like he did." He looks back to his book for a few moments, then adds, "Why, are you missing him?"

Sam shrugs one of his huge moose-shoulders. "We could've used his help setting up this warding."

Dean hmphs. He's got a point—they've been researching ancient warding that might protect against divine beings for hours now, and so far, no dice. The chicken scratch on the page is murder on his eyes.

"It's just that you had that whole 'summer of love' thing going on that one time."

Dean looks back up, staring at his smirking brother again. "Yeah, when I was a demon."

Dean hates to even think about that time, let alone talk about it with Sam. He's always been grateful to Sam and Cas for all they did to bring him back, and he knows Crowley eventually helped as well, but the things he did…he'll always be ashamed of them.

Sure, most of the time he'd been drunk off his face and down to fuck any willing body, including at least one time involving triplets that Dean would carefully remember now and then, blocking out the parts where Crowley was involved—the two girls and one guy had all been remarkably bendy, after all. And yes, most of the people he'd killed during that time had either been demons, or had deserved it on some level.

Except Sam. His attempt on Sam's life, and later Cas' when he was under the Mark's influence, will both haunt him for the rest of his days. He's spent a lot of the last few years trying to avoid being that creature after the Mark was gone.

He especially doesn't like to examine how much he had actually enjoyed the freedom of it. A soul is a burden, even one as tarnished as his.

Sam shrugs again. "I dunno, he seemed pretty fond of you."

Dean just hmphs again. Truth is, he does miss that sarcastic bastard. But what he did, giving his life to seal that rift? It still hurts. So he buries it again, and focuses on the sigils once more.

"How about you, Cas?" Sam asks, never content with leaving anything freaking alone.

"No." Cas' curt answer comes from the armchair in the corner near Dean, where he sits with his own pile of lore books.

Dean shares a raised-eyebrow look with Sam, before his brother breathes out a "hokay then" on a laugh.

The library falls silent.

[amanda-teaches]

Prove It

Summary: A friendly competition between you and Dean escalates just a little too far.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Laser Tag for @spnfluffbingo​ and Play Fighting for @spndeanbingo​

Word Count: 960

Warnings: Competitive Dean, playful fighting, use of the word swindler, general fluff

A/N: Here’s some fun fluff to hold you all over until the next chapter of Til Death Do Us Part? this weekend. It was written based on a request by @spngeek7983​ for my 2k challenge.

The competition had been going on for three grueling days and nights.

It started off innocently enough. Sunday night, you’d volunteered to cook dinner for the boys, running to the store for all the ingredients you needed for beef bolognese. When you got back to the bunker, you kicked Dean and Sam out of the kitchen, getting straight to work. A few hours later, a piping hot meal was sitting on the table.

“Wow, Y/N, this looks amazing,” Sam said with a warm smile, folding his tall, lanky frame into one of the chairs. Dean followed suit, breathing the smell in.

“Yeah, babe. Smells fantastic.”

Sam tasted the dish first, sighing softly with pleasure. “Wow…Y/N, this is delicious. Honestly, I think this may be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Dean scoffed in offense. “Hey! Who’s been cooking for you since you were in diapers?”

Sam made eye contact with you and grinned conspiratorially. “Sorry, Dean. I guess Y/N’s just better.”

“Pshh,” he huffed. “I bet if I cooked this thing, it’d come out ten times better.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed, more amused than insulted. “Prove it.”

And, that’s how the war started. A simple little cook-off that snowballed into so much more. Soon, it was who could down a glass of whiskey the fastest, who was the better shot, who knew more of the lore books by memory.

Very quickly, you ran out of legitimate things to compete over, so you moved on to ridiculous contests. Tonight’s was a classic: Mario Kart.

“VICTORY!” Dean shouted, throwing down his controller and tossing his hands up into the air as his car crossed the finish line. “Take that!”

“Not fair! You got to pick Yoshi first. We all know he’s the best.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, like you didn’t cheat in the marshmallow contest? I saw you squishing them together.”

You gasped, jumping up. “I did not!”

He mirrored you, jumping up and smirking as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Yeah? I guess it’s just too bad there weren’t any marshmallows here, huh?”

“Oh, you, you...swindler!” you yelled, frustration boiling over. “Maybe you should just sleep out here with your victory then.”

“Wait a second,” Dean sputtered, his smirk fading. “I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?”

“Exactly,” you avowed, spinning around to leave, but Dean grabbed your elbow.

“Y/N, baby, come on, it’s just a game.”

You laughed. “Oh, now it’s just a game when you’re sleeping on the couch, but when you were winning...”

 “I’m sorry, okay,” Dean pleaded, his voice as smooth as honey. He put on his most charming smile and pulled you closer to him. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He pulled his tongue between his teeth, his eyes darkening. “I’ll make it up to you, huh?”

“Hmm…” you hummed for a second, closing your eyes as you pretended to consider it. You quickly made your decision, opened your eyes, and grinned, knowing you had him now. “How about no, champ.”

His mouth fell open in astonishment. “Okay, okay.” Dean dropped his hand, changing tactics. “I know when I’m beat. How ‘bout this? One more game, no cheating, no tricks. No matter who wins, we accept it and move on with our lives, no more competition, no more grudges, and no hard feelings.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, suspecting some kind of hidden agenda after the past three days of ruthless competition and bragging. “What game?”

“Something we’re both good at.” He thought for a second before his face split into a grin. “I have just the thing.”

You cocked your gun, bracing yourself in a wide, open stance. Holding the gun to your chest, you peered around the corner, scanning from side to side.

You didn’t see Dean anywhere, but that didn’t mean a thing. He was an expert at this, and you knew he could camouflage pretty much anywhere. That was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place, the jerk.

Taking a deep breath, you moved around the corner, keeping your back to the wall as you walked. You held your gun up high, staying alert as your eyes scanned every darkened corner for any sign of your boyfriend.

You’d almost made it to the next area of cover when Dean dropped out of nowhere, raising his gun up high with a shout. You kicked your leg out, sweeping his before he could shoot. As he fell to the ground, you raised your gun to his chest, firing a laser stream until all of the lights on his vest began to flash red.

“HA! I did it! I beat the great Dean Winchester at laser tag. Yes!!!!” You threw your hands up in the air and spun around, doing a little victory dance.

Dean chuckled, holding his hand out for you to help him up. “Yeah, you did, but you think you could’ve been any gentler with the take-down? I think you broke me…”

“Aw, sorry, honey,” you apologized, wrapping your arms so your hands were resting on his back. You began to massage his muscles, slowly moving lower. “I’ll make it up to you, huh?”

He grinned as your hands landed on his ass. “Mmm, good idea. You know, I think I’m getting a little too old for this play fighting stuff.”

“Oh, you’ll never be too old for me,” you breathed out, your voice turning seductive as your hands gripped him even tighter. “Want a chance to prove it?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he exclaimed excitedly, grabbing you and lifting you up, throwing you over his shoulder. “I think this is one competition I’m definitely gonna win.”

Forevers- @atc74​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @be-amaziing​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @deans-dirty-writer​ @deanwanddamons​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @dolphincliffs​ @edgeofreality35​ @emoryhemsworth​ @focusonspn​ @hannahindie​ @heyitscam99​ @impala-dreamer​ @impandagrl​ @karikatz12481​ @katymacsupernatural​ @maddiepants​ @masksandtruths​ @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester​ @mysterious-398​ @ohmychuckitssamanddean​ @pinknerdpanda​ @roxyspearing​ @spnbaby-67​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @wi-deangirl77​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​

Dean Tags - @adoptdontshoppets​ @akshi8278​ @alexwinchester23​  @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @flamencodiva​ @squirrelnotsam​

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXVIII

It was a love story from the very beginning.

I Want You Back (Part I)

(11x15/11x16a)

Hello my friends! How are you? I decided to divide this topic into two parts and taking the first half of episode 16.

Thanks to my dear editor @destielle for take her time and betaed this mess! 😘💕

Here I will talk about how Dean's priorities change from the moment he discovers Cas is possessed by Lucifer.

Something like… 'Amara who?'

Let's check it out…

He wants so be saved

The first scene in the bunker in episode 15x15 shows us Dean trying to force the idea about Cas wanting to be saved to be true, just like the way when he came back from Purgatory without the angel and lied to himself to the point he altered his memories about what really happened.

Sam can sense his brother's feelings and concerns… pay attention to this dialogue…

Sam: Uh... don’t you think our plates are a little full? I mean it’s bad out there, Dean.

Dean: Yeah, Sam. You think I don’t know that? We’ve done nothing but mainline lore for a week, okay? We’ve got jack on another hand of God and Amara, and we’ve got even less jack on how to save Cas.

Sam: If he wants to be saved.

Dean: He does... even if he doesn’t know it yet.

Sam: Dean...

Dean: I’m burnt, man. Okay? And I need... WE need to get out of here. Let’s go stretch our legs.

Sam looks wearily at Dean.

Sam knows Castiel decided to do this because he wanted to be useful to the fight. Again, Sam and Cas share the same train of thought, opting for war decisions. It’s easy for Sam to understand Cas. But for Dean, the one in love with the angel, it’s really hard to believe. He can't wrap his head around the possibility of Cas saying yes to Lucifer on purpose or that he doesn’t want to be saved. He can't and he doesn't want to believe it. And the guilt inside of him because he didn't see these events coming is playing an important role in his despair. All he wants is his angel back...

Gunnar: Castiel mirror

They were set blatantly: Dean and his crush on Gunnar and Sam and his crush on Rio.

Playing with these two parallels at the same time in the same episode, we, as the audience searching for subtext, can see and talk about Bi!Dean easily.

Gif credit @roseredfingers

That's why we have Gunnar winking at Dean and Rio seductively greeting Sam when they came out from the wrestling ring in two different scenes.

Gif set credit @subcas 👇

But that wasn't the only thing the writers wanted to show us by introducing Gunnar.

Gunnar was dressed in the color blue, so, when Dean faces him, we can interpret that as him facing Cas… watch this…

Gunnar: Sorry, kid. I don’t want to do this.

Dean: Oh, then don’t.

Gunnar: You say that like I got a choice. That guy out there, he’s a...

Dean: He’s a demon. I know. And I know about Hell and deals... all of it. What’s he got over you? You sold your soul, didn’t you?

Gunnar: Ten years ago, I wanted another shot at the belt; 50,000 people screaming my name. I was desperate and dumb.

Dean: But you only had the title for like a week.

Gunnar: Desperate and dumb.

Dean: Okay. Okay. Look, you screwed up, all right? Trust me. I’ve been there. But it is never too late to do the right thing.

Gunnar: You really believe that?

Dean: I have to.

Gunnar wanted to be the winner, the hero, just like Cas. Castiel wanted to be that hero on which Sam and Dean could rely on. And his despair led him to Lucifer. So Dean, emphatically, tries to give him hope because he totally understands, because he has ‘been there.' 

This is a piece of Dean Winchester's struggle. Dean has been there. He totally knows what it’s like to be desperate, and we can easily imagine him to be asking himself why Cas didn't come to him and talk about everything first. But also why he couldn’t see the signs of the bad shape Castiel was in. Why did Sam notice but not him? Not even when he saw him in the bunker and Casifer lightly suggested using Dean as bait? All of this is seething inside Dean. So when he finds Gunnar and hears his story of WHY HE HAD MADE A DEAL WITH A DEMON (just like Cas) it was as if he was seeing Cas in that story.

Learning a Lesson

The last scene in the episode is Sam and Dean talking about Gunnar and the conversation turning into a Cas-centric chat…

Sam: Are you okay?

Dean: Not even a little bit. Lawless was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to go out like that, you know?

Sam: Dean, you know what? He made a bad decision. We’ve been there.

Dean: Yeah, you, me, now Cas.

This is the confirmation of the assumption that Gunnar's behavior was a recall of Castiel's bad decision and that Dean was aware of it the whole time. So it’s confirmed: When he was talking to Gunnar it was a mirror for talking to Cas.

Sam: Dean, we’ll get him back. We will. We just got to…

Sam recognizes the symptomatology over there… everything is about Cas.

Dean: Keep grinding. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you got to keep grinding.

Sam: Right.

Dean is talking, finally, with the pain carved into his heart, and Sam is there for him, listening to his brother confessing he's devastated because Cas made that bad decision and that he wants him back, and that he will keep fighting for it.

Gif credit @sunlitcas

Dean: And that’s how we’re gonna win. And we’re gonna win. We’re gonna save Cas, we’re gonna ice the Devil and we’re gonna shank the Darkness. And anyone that gets in our way, well, God help them.

Sam: Damn right.

Dean: Damn right.

Dean learning his lesson, painfully, but he's okay, he can do this, Sam is there, and both of them will get Cas back.

Cas comes first

In the beginning of episode 11x16 'Safe House', Dean is worried about not having any clue about Cas and Amara, but Sam finds a case to make his brother focus on another topic. A distraction.

But the case ended up being one of Bobby's and Rufus’s old cases.

In the same way we have Dean focused on Cas and Sam focused on relocating that on another case, we have Bobby focused on the Apocalypse and Rufus focused on the house and the case.

The whole episode is like a war between what is more important: the Apocalypse (Cas) or the case.

There are handprints on the victims, mirroring the Destiel handprint. And we have a broken seal, mirroring Cain's mark.

BOBBY: The apocalypse is on the horizon, and you wanna hunt a damn ghost!

And this one here too…

BOBBY: Been burning the midnight oil. Last couple of weeks. Up for days. Lookin' for ways to stop the apocalypse. Lookin' for - anything. Sam and Dean are right in the middle of this thing. I'm worried about my boys, Rufus.

Bobby isn't sleeping, just like Dean. Because both of them are worried. One because of his familial love for his boys and the other one because of romantic love, as the writers will make that difference apparent in episode 11x17 'Red Meat', which I’ll be talking about in the next meta.

Finally, I want to talk about this dialogue before ending this analysis…

RUFUS: Hey, hey. Alright, okay. Papa bear. But you know more than anyone, Bobby. Even if we find a way to keep the world spinning, not everyone's going to be on that bus ride home. Sacrifice, greater good. All that jazz.

BOBBY: Yeah, I know.

The greater good, the war decision is making its appearance again. The Sacrifice, the path Castiel has chosen.

RUFUS: Oldest rule of hunting, Bobby. You can't save everyone.

So, Rufus (Sam mirror) talks about war decisions, and Bobby (Dean mirror) talks about his emotions (heart decision).

To conclude: 

Episode 11x15 brought us subtext for Bi!Dean, making a blatant parallel between Gunnar/Dean and Rio/Sam, their youth crushes.

Gunnar was mirroring Cas by making a deal with a demon to become a hero again.

Dean immediately related Gunnar's story to Castiel. So the words he said to him were the ones he wanted to say to Cas, if he had just seen the weight of Cas' despair.

Episode 11x16 was another parallel between Sam and Dean with Bobby and Rufus with the topic being ‘What comes first?’. To Dean, the answer is obvious: Castiel comes first, always.

I hope you liked this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@imjustkipping @destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From s11, here you have the links...

Vol. LXII, LXIII, LXIV, LXV, LXVI, LXVIII.

Buenos Aires, June 30th 2020 5:06 PM

[petrichoravellichor]

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

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Chapters 4 & 5 (of 5) (Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3)

The next morning, Crowley and Jack enter the library for Jack’s daily chess lesson to find Sam and Eileen hunched over a pile of books at the table nearest the doorway. Crowley takes a breath he doesn’t technically need, steeling his nerves. We can choose to be good...

“Jack,” he says smoothly, “be a good lad and go set up the board, will you? I’d like to have a word with Sam’s charming guest.”

Sam's eyes are on him in an instant. There's a quiet click as Sam's knuckles tighten around the book he's holding, followed by the sound of his foot sliding across the floor to nudge Eileen.

Eileen glances up from her work, looking first at Sam, then over at Crowley, and bloody hell, if looks could kill, she'd have him dead on the floor. Crowley doesn’t miss the way Eileen's grip tightens around the pen in her hand; in fact, he’s fairly certain she’s already plotted out at least three different places to stab him with it.

Crowley inclines his head in a gesture of polite greeting. “Hello, Eileen. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”

“I know who you are,” Eileen says icily, and Crowley thinks that perhaps he underestimated the number of already-plotted stabbing places, “and unless the next words out of your mouth are I’m sorry, you can—”

“I’m sorry,” says Crowley, without preamble, and the silence that follows is absolute. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam stiffen, though whether it’s in anger or impatience or something else, Crowley doesn’t know: Eileen is all but boring into him with her gaze, and he doesn’t dare look away.

“You’re sorry,” Eileen repeats, slowly.

Crowley nods. “For the hellhound. The British Men of Letters asked for one, and I obliged; I didn��t ask what for. The first time I heard your name, you were already dead. It wasn’t personal. So...yes. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Eileen’s expression is inscrutable. She continues to regard him carefully, rubbing her thumb over the pen in her grasp, until finally, she blows out a slow breath and sets the pen down. “Okay,” she says, and though she still looks wary, Crowley notices a slight drop in her shoulders. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: we’re not friends, and I still don’t trust you, but...thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” Then, deciding the smart thing to do is bow out before his luck expires, he adds, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my pupil awaits,” and, with a final nod, hurries over to the other table.

Jack is positively beaming. “I told you,” he whispers as Crowley slides into his seat. “Eileen is nice! I think you two will be friends.”

“Doubtful,” Crowley murmurs, but at least Jack’s pleased with him. When the boy had knocked on his door earlier and told him that Eileen was with Sam in the library, Crowley had suggested postponing their lesson, but Jack had insisted it would be a good chance to make amends, and blast it if Crowley has yet found a way to deny Jack anything he asks for. If the boy weren’t already busy being the new God, Crowley muses, he’d make a hell of a crossroads demon.

They begin their lesson. Jack is getting better; he actually manages to give check once, and Crowley feels a swell of pride for him even as he easily captures the offending piece. With enough practice, Crowley has no doubt that Jack will eventually be able to give him a run for his money, maybe even compete in tournaments. Now that, thinks Crowley, would be something to see: God and his coach, the former King of Hell. Jack’s opponents would never know what hit them.

Eileen leaves just as Jack’s lesson is coming to a close, but Sam lingers after she’s gone, glancing over every so often. Crowley pretends not to notice and tells Jack to go on, he’ll put the board away since Jack set it up. Once Jack is safely out of earshot and it’s just Sam and Crowley left in the room, Crowley decides they might as well get on with it, whatever it is.

“Something on your mind, Moose?” he asks mildly, snapping the chess set closed and rising from his chair. “Because if it’s a snogging you’re after, pass. These days, I make it a point not to get involved with anyone whose partner has access to things that could kill me and knows how to use them.”

The look of dry exasperation Sam shoots him is well worth it. “Very funny,” Sam retorts, before his expression softens a bit. “I just...wanted to say thanks. For apologizing to Eileen, I mean. I know it probably wasn’t easy.”

Crowley blinks; he’d been expecting hostility, not approval. He masks his surprise with a cavalier shrug. “Easier than telling her that you and your brother allied with the man who set the hellhound on her, I presume.”

A pained look crosses Sam’s face. “I—yeah. Ketch was...complicated.”

“You have told her about all that, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” Sam says, and there’s enough anguish in his voice that Crowley believes him. “I told her everything.”

“Good. Glad to see you lot have finally learnt a thing or two about keeping secrets from one another.”

They’re quiet for a moment, and Crowley thinks that perhaps their conversation is over, but just as he’s about to go—

“While we’re on the subject of apologizing,” Sam says, carefully meeting Crowley’s eye, “I’m sorry about Rowena showing up in your room. I told her we were going to the Empty to get you and Cas back and that we’d let her know how it went, but then she kind of just ambushed you as soon as we got back, before I’d even had a chance to call her, and...yeah, I’m really sorry.”

The genuineness of Sam’s admission catches Crowley off-guard. “Yes, well,” he scratches the back of his head and looks away, “Mother never was one to sit and wait for news she could go out and get herself.”

Sam’s lips twitch in a wry sort of smile. “Well, she can’t astral project into the Bunker anymore, not with the warding we laid down. Also, um. I don’t know if Dean told you, but he, uh, talked to her for a while on the phone that night.”

The surge of affection Crowley feels is almost overwhelming. “No,” he manages. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Rowena knows not to try anything else unless she hears from you first.”

Crowley sighs. “Which, incidentally, might be sooner rather than later. I’ve decided I’ll hear her out.”

“Really?” says Sam, sounding pleasantly surprised. “That’s...great. Do you want me to take down the warding, or…?”

Crowley shakes his head. “If I’m to do this, it’ll be in person. I don’t want her flickering out the moment it all becomes too much, not before I’ve had my say.”

“So, you’re thinking of going to Hell?”

“I don’t see any alternative,” grumbles Crowley. “She can’t come here physically, not without a host, and I’ve a feeling that particular option is against house rules.”

“You would be correct,” Sam says firmly, though not unkindly. “Maybe there’s another way, though...Cas might know a spell, or I can check the lore, see if we can figure something out.”

“Figure something out for what?” comes a voice, and Crowley turns to see Castiel enter the library, a small pile of books in hand. “Did you need me for something?”

“Crowley wants to talk to Rowena,” Sam explains, “ideally in person, but—”

“—but the only way to do that without Rowena taking a host,” Castiel finishes, “is for you,” he nods at Crowley, “to go to Hell. I understand.” He sets his books down on the table, looking thoughtful. “There may be a way,” he says after a moment, “although it’s not without risk, and we’ll have to check that we have all of the necessary ingredients. I can supply the angelic grace.” He looks over at Sam. “How much blood can you spare?”

Sam’s eyes widen; he glances from Castiel to Crowley and back again. “I mean—”

“Oh for the love of—do you two even hear yourselves?” Crowley demands; dear God, he’s always thought of Dean as the one lacking impulse control, but apparently it’s just a household prerequisite. “We’ll find another way, one that doesn’t involve either of your life forces!”

They all fall silent, each ostensibly pondering alternate plans, when suddenly, Sam gets a look that suggests he has an idea. “Jack.”

“Yes?” says Jack brightly, startling Sam as he appears out of thin air; he sees Castiel and Crowley and furrows his brow. “Are we having a family meeting? Shouldn’t we wait till Dean gets back from walking Miracle?”

Sam chuckles. “No, we’re not having a family meeting. I wanted to ask, do you think you could make body for Rowena, so she can visit us here at the Bunker?”

“Oh.” Jack considers a moment, then smiles. “Sure, I can do that. When does she want it?”

*****

One week later, they’re all in the kitchen having breakfast, and Crowley is doing what he considers to be an admirable job at hiding his nerves.

That is, until Dean abruptly calls him out on it.

“You sure you don’t want backup?” Dean asks, giving Crowley his best no-nonsense look from the other side of the table. “’Cause I mean it, man: you don’t gotta deal with this on your own.”

“We could wait in the hallway,” Sam offers from the next seat over, “and only come in if things get out of hand.”

Next to Crowley, Castiel nods. “And we could have a code word of some kind, a way for you to let us know you’d like assistance.”

“Oh, like Poughkeepsie!” Jack says around a mouthful of cereal. “I’ve never gotten to use that one before.”

And the thing is, Crowley can tell they mean it; a word from him, and he’ll have two hunters, an angel, and God himself there to support him. The thought makes him feel warm in a way he still isn’t used to, so he fumbles out a half-hearted remark about how they’re all impossible and insists they leave the Bunker as planned.

Over by the stove, Juliet looks up from where she’s lying curled around Miracle and lets out a miffed sort of bark; Crowley shoots her a look, and with a low growl of displeasure, she lowers her head.

The hellhound had shown up out of the blue four days ago, howling insistently at the Bunker door. A quick call from Sam to Rowena had revealed that Rowena knew nothing about it—apparently, Juliet hadn’t been seen in Hell since Crowley’s death and was presumed to have run off. It had taken Crowley quite a bit of persuading to convince Sam and Dean to let her in, but eventually, they’d settled on a few ground rules that everyone could live with: Jack would make Juliet visible to everyone, not just Crowley; Crowley was to keep Juliet either with him or in his room at all times; and Juliet not to go near Eileen unless or until Eileen said otherwise. Crowley had readily agreed to each one; after all, a few simple rules were a small price to pay in exchange for having his beloved hellhound back at his side.

After breakfast, Crowley takes Juliet to his room and orders her to stay, sighing when the hound gazes reproachfully back at him. “Don’t worry, girl,” he assures her, scratching just behind Juliet’s ear in the place he knows she really likes. “Papa will be just fine.”

Ten minutes later, as Crowley stands in the library and awaits his mother, he’s still repeating that last bit to himself when Rowena appears in the doorway. She halts as Crowley catches sight of her, and for a long moment, they just stare at each other. Eventually, Crowley clears his throat.

“Mother,” he says, stiffly. “You’re looking well, for a dead woman.”

Rowena smiles. “Yes, well,” she says, raising a hand to examine it in the light, “let it never be said there aren’t certain benefits to being a surrogate aunt to the new God.” She lowers her hand, and her smile turns more tentative. “You’re looking well yourself. It’s good to see you, in the flesh.”

Crowley doesn’t smile back. “You said you wanted to explain, so now’s your chance.” He narrows his eyes. “Your last chance. If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully. In fact,” he adds, remembering his own apology to Eileen, “unless the first two are I’m sorry, then you needn’t bother with the rest.”

Rowena hesitates, biting her lip, and just as Crowley is about to tell her to leave and not come back, she actually says it: "I'm...sorry."

Time itself seems to stop. It’s as though the words have turned Crowley to stone; he'd half-expected her to refuse outright. “For?” he manages, after a moment.

Rowena's gaze is pained and earnest. “For everything. For abandoning you when you were a child. For using you, for manipulating you, for...for Gavin.” A single tear falls down her face. “He was my grandson, and I let him die because I knew it would hurt you. It was wrong, and...and I’m sorry.”

Crowley feels like he’s swallowed glass. He closes his eyes and thinks back to the last time he saw Gavin, when Gavin decided to return to the past and embark on a doomed voyage in order to save the soul of his beloved. Crowley sees himself reaching for Gavin, determined to whisk him away; he sees himself being frozen in place by Rowena’s spell, sees Gavin’s look of sad resolve as he says goodbye.

I’m sorry, Father...

More than anything, Crowley wants to be able to go back, to forgo his damnable pride and say that no, he’s sorry, because for all he’d hated his mother, for all he’d sworn to himself that he’d be better than her, he hadn’t been. Instead, he’d been a bitter, abusive arse who’d made Gavin’s life hell for as long as he was alive. By all accounts, Gavin should have followed in Crowley’s footsteps and become a hardened, miserable drunk, only...only he hadn’t...

Because somehow, inexplicably, Gavin MacLeod had been decent. He’d met a girl and fallen in love, and when it became clear to him that staying in the present meant his love would be damned and that innocent people would die, Gavin hadn’t hesitated. He’d gone back, knowing full well what it would mean, because it had been the right thing to do. Gavin had a choice, and he'd chosen to be good.

We can be more than the people we come from...Gavin had been better than him. Maybe it’s not too late for Crowley to be better than himself.

He opens his eyes. Rowena is staring at him from near the doorway, face a mess of tears, and for the first time, Crowley thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s not the only one who wants to be better, not the only one who needs to be redeemed.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, quietly. “When you said you’d missed me?”

“Aye,” Rowena rasps, voice barely more than a whisper. “When Sam and Dean...when they told me you’d...died…All I could think was that I’d rather have you alive, even if you hated me. I don’t need you to love me; I know I haven’t earned that. I just...” She keeps her eyes on Crowley’s face and takes a hesitant step towards him. “I just want to be a part of your life.”

“Why?” demands Crowley, and even he can hear the way his voice breaks on the word. “Damn it, Mother, why? Why, after a lifetime of not being there, do you want to be there now? And don’t say it’s because you love me,” he says sharply as she opens her mouth. “Just...don’t. Pick a different reason, one I can actually believe. You say you want to be in my life, but why should I let you? Why do you deserve to be?”

Several seconds go by in silence; then—

“I...I don’t,” Rowena murmurs, eyes widening as she speaks words that are equal parts admission and realization. “I don’t deserve it, I—” She hangs her head and lets out a shuddering sob. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know how to do this right; I wish I did, but I don’t! I thought loving you made me weak, but I was wrong; I always have been. You deserved better from this world.” She raises her eyes. “You deserved better from me, and...and I don’t know how to love you the way you deserve, but Fer—but Crowley, if you’ll let me, I’d like to try.”

If he’ll let her...Crowley feels himself sway. It’s a dizzying notion, letting his mother in. They’ve hated each other for centuries; it’s been the one constant in Crowley’s life, a perverse and painful North Star that, in one way or another, has guided every major decision he’s ever made and shaped the very core of who he is. Hating and expecting to be hated back, by his mother, by everyone—for his entire life, it’s been how he’s survived, but...

But that isn’t true anymore. Crowley has a new life now, one with people who care about him, people who had been willing to stand in this room beside him if he'd asked it of them. The idea of not hating Rowena, of her not hating him...it’s strange and uncomfortable and borderline frightening, but it’s also...possible, realizes Crowley, in a way that it’s never felt before. Because whatever happens with Rowena, Crowley knows he’ll survive it. And he won’t have to do it alone.

Crowley draws himself up to full height. “I don’t know how to believe you,” he says. “Not right now, at any rate, but…” He hesitates, then takes a careful step forward. “I’m willing to...entertain the possibility that someday, I might.”

Rowena’s face is a study in barely contained hope. “Then...you mean…?”

“I’ve decided I’m going to let you try, but on my terms, with boundaries.” Crowley looks her square in the eye. “And if you give me a reason, any reason, to regret that decision, then I promise you now that it will be the last chance I ever give you. Have I made myself clear?”

Rowena regards him carefully, no doubt sensing the absolute certainty of the words, and nods. “Aye. I understand. So.” She gives him a tentative smile. “What are your terms? And shall we have them in writing, to make it official?”

Her tone is light, playful, almost, but her eyes are serious, and Crowley gets the sense that the question is a sincere one. Honestly, it’s probably not a bad idea, writing it all down, especially since everything about this is uncharted territory for them. He’s never got this far with his mother, and he has no idea how to best move forward...but he knows he doesn’t have to figure that out alone, either.

“I’ll get back to you,” Crowley says at last. “In a few days, perhaps, after I’ve thought about it, talked about it...with my family.”

And for the first time in his life, the word doesn’t hurt when he says it.

********************

Epilogue: A Few Months Later...

It’s Dean who suggests they all go to the beach.

“Just think about it,” Dean says over pancakes one morning, gazing dreamily off into space. “Sand between our toes, cooler full of Margiekugels, matching Hawaiian shirts...”

Crowley balks at the last bit; he’s seen the shirts Dean has in mind, and there is absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell he’ll ever be caught dead in—

“We’re all getting matching shirts?” Jack asks, beaming.

Bollocks…

A few days later, Crowley sits on a California beach at sunset, reluctantly dressed in what can only be described as a vibrant, floral nightmare. He watches with a sort of begrudging fondness as Jack, Sam, and Eileen, all in similar shirts, play fetch with Miracle and Juliet down in the surf, and if Crowley doesn't actually hate his current attire as much as he pretends to, that's nobody's business but his own. He takes a sip of his cocktail—Sex on the Beach, and a damned good one at that—and glances over to where Dean is humming Queen and flipping burgers over a charcoal grill. "Remind me to take Jack shopping when we get back,” he says. “I’ve given up on you and Moose, but perhaps there’s still time to save the next generation from a closet full of fashion sins.”

Dean snorts. “Dude, whatever. Besides, the kid’s God now: the hell’s it matter what he wears?”

“That is precisely why it matters,” counters Crowley, exasperated. He looks past Dean at Castiel, who’s chopping tomatoes at a nearby picnic table. “You there, Feathers, back me up! Where’s your sense of fatherly pride?”

“I’m proud of Jack regardless of what he wears,” Castiel says without looking up from his work, and Crowley’s just about to argue the point further when Castiel adds, “Although if you’re offering to help ensure he doesn’t look like a lumberjack, I’m not opposed.”

Dean shoots Castiel a look of abject betrayal. “Hey! At least I don’t walk around lookin’ like a holy tax accountant.”

“I love you too,” says Castiel mildly, smiling as Dean’s frown melts into a blushing pout, and Crowley gleefully registers the argument in his favor.

Savile Row, here we come, he thinks, smirking and taking another sip of his drink. He wonders idly how much convincing it would take to get Sam, Dean, and Castiel to accompany him and Jack on their shopping excursion. They could make a day of it, hit up all the best shops and end by taking in a show. Eileen, of course, would be welcome to join, and Crowley thinks that perhaps he’ll even invite Rowena...perhaps. If she asks very, very nicely.

For now, he leans back in his chair, watching contentedly as Jack races the dogs back from the shoreline, Sam and Eileen trailing behind while closer by, Castiel joins Dean at the grill and the two start plating food. There will be time to sort out the details later; today, Crowley’s on holiday, with his family. And there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

[sebastianshaw]

Shaw & Skadi for the kid meme!

Name: Sigvid Skadisson Shaw. I know it should be Shawson BUT FUCK THE RULES. “Sig” is a pretty standard prefix for a lot of Norse names from the word “sigr” meaning “victory” and “vid” from the Old Germanic “widu” for forest. Gender: Masc and male-presenting but beyond that I’m not sure? Trans man? AMAB non-binary? Look, he uses he/him (maybe they too) and people THINK ‘man’ when they look at him, that’s all I know General Appearance: Tall and beefy, he couldn’t NOT be. Medium pale skin that gets even paler in winter but tans easily in summer. Black hair, or so dark brown it might as well be black, and very dark eyes. His hair, unlike both parents and most of his Asgardian brethren, is actually kept short, and while he has a beard, it’s not the big one. The reason for this is functional; short hair is better if you’re spending a lot of time in the wild. Stuff gets stuck in long hair, it can get tangled in branches at the worst times, it’s hot in the summer, and it can literally freeze in the winter if it gets wet. His attire is very much out of a Viking fantasy, but less on the “heavy armor” end of things and more on the “wearing lots of furs and skins” side. He doesn’t look like someone you want to fuck with, but he also doesn’t look like he’s going to war. He carefully avoids any kind of dangling amulets, charms, or other jewelry that could get caught on anything, but he’s got a sort of leather toolbelt containing various survival tools made from wood, bone, etc. Personality: Sigvid, as you might guess from his attire and the reasons for it, is an outdoorsman. Not as a hobby, not as a lifestyle, but an EXISTENCE. He thrives in the natural world as Sebastian does in the business world, finding ways to survive in even the most adverse of situation. Whatever Mother Nature is doing around him, he can not only make it through it, he can work it to his advantage. His closeness to the natural world, his close observation of it, means that he sees both the facts and errors in his father’s mentality. He sees that the strongest predators will pick off the weakest prey, that the winter will take those who do not prepare, that mother animals will neglect and even devour their young if they’re sick or runty. He also sees that prey are more aggressive than predators, how some creatures will adopt and nourish infants that are not their own or even their own species, how some will share their kill with no benefit to themselves, and how even the smallest and most humble animals can make it through things that the larger, so-called stronger ones did not. Sigvid is very pragmatic, like his father, very practical, very self-preservationist. He has to be. But he’s also very spiritual, not in a way that connects to some distant god, but the world around him, to earth and nature. Not some idealized hippie-dippie conception of nature as a loving mother that is always in balance, but an acceptance that it is a greater power that he cannot control, he can only hope to survive at best. It keeps him humble. It also gives him a much wider, more relative perspective on things that is not human-centric, or Asgardian-centric for that matter. My Shaw often says that he admires human accomplishments above all else, that no other animal has built cities, computers, cars, and so on. And he is correct in this. But Sigvid always points out, how many termite mounds has man built? How many times do humans migrate thousands of miles using an innate sense of the Earth’s magnetic fields? How many fish have we hunted by literally sensing the electricity in their bodies? Yes, humans are “the best” if we judge them by standards HUMANS MADE. Judge us by the base standard of any other species, and we flop. Same for judging any species by the standards of any other. Nothing is “more” or “less” evolved than anything else, more complex does not mean better, and nor does being bigger, stronger, meaner, or even smarter mean a species is “better” or “more evolved” either. Survival of the fittest is not about that, nor about individuals; it’s about how well a species fits its environment and niche. A slime mold is just as evolved as a person. Sigvid is very passionate about this, though he’s not the type to speak up most of the time; he’s stoic and saturnine, used to keeping his mouth closed and his thoughts to himself, because most of the time there’s no one to talk to. And that also means he’s learned to exist without the validation and approval of others---ironically, something that is much like his father, learned in a completely different environment.

A lot of this, obviously, comes from Skadi. He was at side her since infancy learning to hunt and track, learning the difference between wood sorrel and white clover, how to tell when a moose is about to charge, and what it means when the woods go quiet. This connects deeply to Skadi’s Jotunn side in particular, which in Norse lore are thought to have symbolized the inherently chaotic and uncontrollable nature of, well, nature! Though Sigvid would not, nature it’s chaotic, it’s actually very ordered, people just don’t bother to understand what’s inconvenient to them. But where he differs from Skadi is that he’s not a Disney princess. Animals don’t hang out with him. He doesn’t nurse injured creatures back to health. He doesn’t keep pets. He does not see them as friends. They are not less than him, but they are not allies, they are beings he co-exists with, avoids, or eats. At least, until a thylacine started hanging out with him. Yeah, a thylacine. The extinct Tasmanian tiger. Who knows where it came from or why he’s attached itself to him, but he’s very adamant she’s not a pet and he hasn’t named her, but she is THERE. Sometimes. She isn't at his side like a dog, it's more she's following him from a distance and she pokes her head out from the trees somewhere. She's not a pet. She's more a parasite. But unlike Shaw, Sigvid doesn't use that term in a bad way, and he's fine with her presence. He's just curious where the hell an extinct Australian animal came from? Obviously, Sigvid is not interacting with people a lot, but when he does, he’s far less awkward or boisterous than people expect. He doesn’t have the overt weirdness people expect from a hermit, nor the bombastic warrior cliché of an Asgardian, or the vicious stereotype of a Jotunn. He has a quiet but overwhelming elegance, not like an aristocrat but like a great stag emerging from the forest. He chooses his words carefully, and can say much with just a few. He walks the middle ground between judging by individuals and judging by species; he does a little of both. He has preconceptions and generalities that he believes in about each group, but also believes in room for exception. After all, he’s not what a lot of people expect, is he? Despite this, he’s frequently misread as disliking people, but he doesn’t. He is utterly neutral on them, he just prefers his own way of life. Likewise, he tends to be very neutral towards individuals, and this also is often misread as dislike. One thing he does dislike though, is when people try to endear themselves to him by talking about how they agree animals are better than people, or say stuff like you know only man kills for pleasure. . . .this actually just annoys him. Firstly, a lot of animals do kill for pleasure. Secondly, when people say animals/nature is better than people. . . .they’re forgetting that people---humans, Asgardians, Jotunn---are animals too. This is just another way people, of any sort, try to insist they’re something special and different, whether in a negative or positive way. It doesn’t impress him. What impresses him tends to be how well people work within their niche, whatever niche that is. Like Shaw, he doesn’t really judge in terms of conventional morality, but a person’s success----Sigvid’s definition of success is just much wider. Like, maybe you dive for a living---are you a good diver? A great cafeteria worker? The best toilet cleaner in the tri-state area? He admires that and he commends you. When he is angered, he stays quiet, and his response is swift and physical; he either leaves or strikes physically and then leaves. When he feels sufficiently bonded with someone. . . he is still quiet. He appreciates a person who doesn't need to be filling the silences between them to feel comfortable and kinship. And kinship for him is rare, but he's not lonely----just also not adverse to it, as many assume he is. People assume a lot about Sigvid, and most of it is wrong, but he's also very chill with it. Sigvid is a very chill guy.

Special Talents: Besides the obviously mentioned talents for hunting, tracking, foraging, survivalism, and nature knowledge? Many people think he’s some kind of seer because he’s good at predicting storms and such, but actually he’s just very good at reading the signs most people aren’t attuned to. He also presumably has the attributes of Asgardians and Jotuns (super strength, etc) but if he has a mutant power, it has yet to manifest. Also cannot assume a Frost Giant form. Who they like better: Skadi, though eventually he does respect his father for performing so well at what he does

Who they take after more: I think both equally in different ways Personal Head canon: -He really likes amethyst geodes. -He finds a lot of manufactured foods, like chips or snack cakes, to be WAAAAY too strongly salty or sweet for him to stomach, is allergic to Red Dye #40, and he finds the taste of domesticated animals to be weird. - Not much of a dairy person, but ghee is good -Dislikes when people stereotype hillbillies as stupid; as in like, people who are genuinely living in the hills and mountains of the American Southeast, they're an interesting people with their own unique culture like any other group that lives off the land in isolation---which he respects---and not interchangeable with typical rednecks. -He doesn't typically carry anything with him that's not a necessity, if he knows he's going to be seeing people soon, he will pick up knick-knacks he finds in abandoned places and distribute them like a weird Santa Claus. Who, he's met, by the way, and according to him, Father Christmas is something of a badass. - He will always buy your homemade soaps, and I have no idea what he's doing with them. Yes, maybe he's using them in the normal intended way but IM NOT SURE?? - Pops up in art museums. People never expect him to be here, in these cathedrals dedicated to human creation, but he is. I think he views art a bit differently than the average person, but he's there all the same. - He's an Aquarius but there is a LOT of Saturn in his chart - The first Midgard movie he saw was Forrest Gump. He was expecting it to be about something else because of the title, but he enjoyed it and LEARNED THIS DANCE Face Claim: n/a

[moonflower-31]

You Found Me - Gabriel x Reader

Warnings: Language? Somewhat? Oh and some self doubt, but not a lot. There is a looot of angst though. This is part of a two part oneshot. Hope you enjoy the feels.

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Character(s): Gabriel, Dean, Sam, Castiel

You were worried, to put it simply. Gabriel had told you three weeks ago he'd start to change. That he would take you out more. See you more in general. Not go off to Chuck knows where, doing who knows what.

You were worried. Yeah. That's the word. You were also pissed. Pissed he hadn't answered your prayers at all in those three weeks. Dean and Sam and Cas had all been through all the ways to try and bring him back, figure out what was going on, except to summon him. You had insisted that be the first thing they do, but Cas had intervened. He had said that if Gabriel was gone somewhere, that it was probably good reason. And that he would answer them in other ways.

But look where that got you?

"Look, kid, I know you miss your archangel douche of a boyfriend but-" Dean starts, looking up from the table he sat at in the main library. You rolled your eyes and looked up from your lore book on angels.

"But what? Dean? He might actually be in real danger! And you're sitting there--eating take out!" You exclaim, gesturing to his heart-attack-inducing food in front of him. Dean immediately gave you an offended glare and wrapped an arm around his food. You rolled your eyes again, and then put your eyes back to the book you were reading. No one would tell you the summoning for an archangel. And since the only archangel that would be able to be summoned would be Gabriel, you figured your chances of getting his ass back here were pretty good.

"Come on, let him live a little! I mean, I don't like the guy but every now and then, a guy has to have his alone time. Find himself. I did it. Sam's done it more than once." Dean reminds. You shake your head. Dean continues. "What I'm saying is maybe you should stop trying to summon him and let him come when he's ready. I'm sure he's fine, alright? He would have let you of all people know he was in danger if he was." Dean reminds again.

You grumble and slam the book in your hands closed. "You know what? I'm done. Done with you, and Sam, and Cas's petty excuses! It's like you don't even care!" You exclaim, and stomp out of the library.

You stomp off and slam the door to your room closed, locking it behind you as you collapse onto your bed, wishing and praying for Gabriel to return.

He hadn't returned in three weeks. Not even when you were in danger on hunts and you prayed to him. It made you question if he even loved you anymore. The thought of it made you sick. But it was possible.

You felt your chest heave and tears began to pour from your eyes as you sat back up and pulled the book from where you had dropped it beside the bed. You began wiping away your tears only for new ones to take their place. You opened the book and kept scouring the pages as a knock came to your door.  You immediately hid the book under your sheets and then stood up, and went to the door.

"Who is it?" You ask.

"Castiel. Dean said you were upset."

"Go away Cas. I'm fine. Just distraught over your damn older brother, nothing new." You grumbled, walking away from the door and sitting back on your bed.

A flutter of wings sounds and you look up, finding the trenchcoated angel standing at the foot of your bed. "Y/N... Gabriel will be okay. I promise." He says, looking at you with as sincere enough eyes as an angel can probably muster.

You let out a sad chuckle. "Really Cas? Same speech as last time? I just want him back... I don't want to lose him..." you say, hugging your arms for a moment as you fight the incoming tears. Castiel walks over and wraps his arms around you in a comforting hug, letting you wrap your own arms around him as he holds you. You're appreciative of the gesture as he lets you cry, and lays you down on the bed when you fall asleep. Your first real sleep in days.

~~~~

When you reawaken, it's later in the day, around midnight. You sigh and check your bed, seeing the book still there. You bring it out and start flipping through it, until you find it. And after a few quick translations, find out what you needed for summoning your absent boyfriend.

You write a quick note of the ingredients you needed, and then got up. You had some of the ingredients. But lacked two. You needed some herbs and some leaves that were hard to come by. So you needed to talk to someone.

"Yeah, those'll do. Thanks. I'll be down to pick them up in a few hours. Thanks." You say, hanging up on the friend who owed you a few favors. He had some of the ingredients that you needed. And all you needed now was to put it all together. And say the chant, of course.

You were walking out of your room, when Sam stopped you. You raise an eyebrow as the tall, moose-like man stood in your way.

"Uh...Sam? What are you doing?" You ask, a bag of essentials on your back.

Sam gives you a bitch face. "Really? You really don't think I didn't see you sneak that book into your room? I've read it. And it has what we've been telling you we shouldn't be doing. Wait it out. Alright? I promise, it's all gonna be okay-" Sam starts.

At this point, you were done of hearing that. After so many instances of Dean, Sam, Cas, hell, even Charlie saying it, you were done. Absolutely done. So you snapped.

You immediately shoved Sam out of the way as soon as his guard was down, pinning his sleeve to the wall with one of your knifes. Sam calls out to Dean to alert him of your escape, but you're too quick. You race up the stairs behind you and then you exit the bunker, racing down the road as adrenaline fills your veins.

You didn't dare take the Impala, knowing Dean would kill you if you did.  He rarely let Sam off the hook when he took it. So what's to say he wouldn't kill you?

You finally slowed down near a gas n' sip, and found an abandoned car. You went into the store for a moment, and picked out a few of Gabriel's favorite sweets. You took them to the counter and payed for them before going back outside, and hotwiring the abandoned car.

The adrenaline had finally left you after you'd been on the road for awhile. You'd left your phone at the Gas n' Sip, so you weren't able to be tracked. Damn Sam and Charlie's hacking abilities.

You finally pulled up to your buddy's place around 4 am, and parked in their driveway.

"Damn, Y/N, you look great for three years gone." Your old pal Brad said as he opened the door. He opened the door for you to come in soon after, drinking a beer.

You smile but shake your head. "I'm sorry, but this is an urgent hunt. I need those ingredients now." You say.  Brad chuckled.

"Really? You ain't gonna sit down and tell me how you've been with those... those uh.." Brad starts.

"Winchesters." You remind, nodding a bit. "Yeah uh... not now. I don't exactly have the time. But uh... I promise, ill come by soon. Okay?" You promise. Brad chuckled.

"I'm just messing with ya. I know you're busy. Just lemme know if I can help at all. Okay? Any time of night or day. I've got open ears." Brad says, smirking at you with a broken smile. You smiled and nodded.

Brad soon disappeared behind the door, and after five minutes returned with the herbs you needed.

"Take care now. Call me if you ever need anything else." He says as he sees you off. You nod, and wave back at him as you climb back into your stolen car and pull back onto the dark road.

It wasn't until 5 am that you found the place. It was old, it was rusty. It was perfect. You found an old table and set everything up. You used your lighter and lit up the ingredients, soon after uttering the chant.

"Rah ah gah ee oh es Vee nu nohno kee ah seh peh teh poh ah ma lah deh zod" you utter, and a bright light enters the room. You shield your eyes and wait a few moments before you hear him.

"Really? You're resulting to summoning me?" Gabriel grumbles, looking at you annoyedly. "Im busy, Sugar." He says.

You weren't listening. You were merely relieved that he was okay. You walk around the table, and then wrap your arms around him, almost too tightly.

Then he pushes you away.

"Sugar, please. I'm busy. Can't this wait?" Gabriel asks. You look up at him dejected.

"Busy? You're just 'busy'?" You ask, venom and hurt in your voice. Gabriel looks a bit hurt by your words, but doesn't react otherwise.

"You promise me that you'll spend more time with me, cuddle more, hang out more, watch more movies, but no. No you're 'busy'" you hiss, looking at Gabriel with tears in your eyes.

"Yeah, I am. I’m not gonna keep having this conversation right now. Like I said, I'm busy. I have somethings I need to do." He says, looking at you.

You furrow your eyebrows. You stomp forward and you grab his collar. "You know what would have been appreciated? Gabriel? If you would let me know you were okay! I've been worried about you this entire time! 'What if he's been kidnapped and he's being tortured? What if it's my fault?' Wow, but you're too busy!" You spat, shoving him back and turning away from him.

Gabriel sighed. "Y/N, please, okay? I couldn't get back to you. And besides, this isn't something you should be worried about. I don't understand why you were so worried-" he says. You nod your head as you turned back around. You were done.

"Why am I so worried? Gabriel I have lost so many people, so many. So yeah, im sorry that I just don't want to lose another. Especially not you. But no, you can't understand that, can you?" You growl back. Gabriel rolled his eyes and went to speak again.

"Don't twist my own words against me-" he starts. You shook your head and pointed in his face.

"No, no you need to listen. You, don't understand how hurt you've made me. How badly, I kept thinking about myself. Thinking that you just didn't love me anymore. So you know what? I'm done. I don't care of you still do, or still don't. I'm done." You snap, shoving him back as you toss the altar over.

Gabriel goes to speak again, panick filling his eyes. But you shake your head.

"No, Gabriel. You've done enough damage." You hiss. "Come find me when you understand how I felt." You say before you cut your hand and start drawing a sigil on the wall.

"Sugar, please, we can talk this out-" he starts, walking towards you just as you finish the sigil and hit against it with your hand, sending him back wherever you'd summoned him.

You felt tears re-emerge from your eyes as you walk out of the building and climb into your car. You turn it back on and start driving down the road, sniffling a bit as you decided that enough was enough. You stopped by another Gas n' Sip and walked up to the pay phone.

You dialed a number in after using the last of the money you'd brought. After a few rings, the line picked up.

"Hey Brad... mind if I cash in that favor?"

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Crossing Parallel Lines- Sam Winchester x Reader: Chapter 10

Warnings: Fluff, bragging, bit of angst, sadness, missing someone

A/N: Hi friends! I am so sorry I haven’t written anything in SO LONG! I’ve been super busy, especially with this virus, being essential was DRAINING! Luckily for y’all, I’ve gone on a leave of absence from work so this means I’ll be updating and creating a LOT more!

As always, any feedback is always welcome!

Previous chapter | Masterlist

-Monique

Reader’s POV

I woke up from the deepest sleep I’ve ever had in my life but between blurry eyes, I didn’t recognize my surroundings? Where am I? I thought to myself as I slowly began to see better, wiping away the sleep leftover on my eyes. Wait, this is MY room; I’m back in MY universe! How did this happen? One minute I was with Sam, the next I end up here, my world, my time, my house, my room. What the hell happened last night? You quickly grab your phone from your bedside table and dial the first person you could think of calling.

“Hello?” It had been so long since you heard her voice, you thought you had the wrong number.

“Y/N?” She asks from the other end, prompting you to continue.

“H-hey Callie.” You spoke, unsure of how she was going to react. It had been seven months since you were in this world, but she was your best friend. 

“Oh my God, you’re alive.” She said, sighing overly dramatically.

“Yeah, I’ve been in the other world with the Winchesters and Castiel.” 

“I still can’t believe that stupid spell you said from that lore book worked!” Callie said as she entered your room after you had invited her over to explain everything to her in person.

“Neither can I.” You admit, sitting crisscross on your bed.

“So, what happened? Did you go on any hunts? Did you get along with the guys? Were they nice to you?”

“Yes, Callie, they were. No, they wouldn’t let me go on any hunts after they found me.”

“YOU GOT HURT?!” Callie yelled, looking at you to see if you were currently hurt.

“Yeah, when I landed in their world, I hit my head pretty hard. I was bleeding too but those guys are surprisingly good at stitching.” You joke, but Callie just stared at you.

“Look, I’m fine, but let me tell you the really interesting thing that happened to me. I uh, kinda have a boyfriend.” You said, as casual as you could.

“YOU WHAT?! WHO?!” Callie yelled.

“Sam.”

“YOU AND SAM?!” 

“Okay, you gotta stop yelling, but yes, me and Sam. We have a thing going.” 

“Oh my God, you and the Moose. Are you guys serious?” 

“I mean you don’t tell someone you love them unless you’re serious.” You admit, turning away from Callie’s excited face, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Oh, my Chuck, you’re in love. Does he know? Does he feel the same?”

“I mean he said he did but then I ended up here.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know how I got here.”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember coming up with a way for me to cross between both my universe and Sam’s and I remember crying a lot and then I fell asleep and woke up here.” 

“Hang on, what’s that?” Callie said, pointing to your bag you were wearing, that was now hanging over a chair that sat by the window.

A letter was sticking out from the bag, another thing you don’t remember. Standing to grab the letter, it had your name written on the front. Opening it, you read aloud: 

My Dearest Y/N,

I am so sorry we had to do this but it was better for you to wake up in your home than with us and say goodbye. The rules for the spell are you have to wait a whole month until you can come back and when you do, it’s for a whole week. I know, it’s not a lot of time but I figured, it was better to have you for a time than not at all. It’s not fair and I wish to everything we can change the rules and you can be with me all the time but, my love, this is the cards we’ve been dealt and I cannot change our fate.

I want you to always think of me until we see each other again and count down the days as I will. You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and I am truly a better man because of you. You light up a room when you walk into it, your laugh is like music to my ears and when I hold you and you wrap your tiny arms around me, everything feels okay. You make everything okay, even when it looks bleak. You are my world and when you are gone, a huge part of me will be with you. 

I love you with every part of my entire heart. Every inch of me longs to have you back in my arms; all six feet, four inches of me. I love you, baby.

Yours forever,

Sam W.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Callie said, pulling you in for a hug. 

“It’s okay, I was just never told how to get back there. All he said was I would have to wait a month until I can see him again.”

You stand up to grab your phone and find a note attached to it, too. 

Y/N, 

I’m glad you found this note. Believe it or not, Rowena found a way for us to communicate via our phones even if we’re in different universes. So, when you find this note, give me a call. I miss the sound of your voice. I love you, babe. 

Sam

You immediately scroll to find his number on your phone and hit the green phone icon. It rang only twice before the soft yet manly voice of Sam filled your eyes.

“Hi, baby girl.” He answered and instantly, you broke down into tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” He asked, concern instantly lacing his voice. 

“I-I m-m-miss y-you.” You say, sobbing harder now.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I miss you too.” 

Callie had grabbed your phone as it slipped away from your ear and put it on speaker. 

“Hi Sam, I’m Callie, I’m y/n’s best friend. She just dropped her phone and she’s still really upset, so I’ll hold the phone and you can just talk. You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, thanks, Callie. Y/N, baby, listen to me. You’re okay, we’ll see each other again soon. I love you so much but I had to do this. This was so much better than saying goodbye to you here. You know how much harder this was going to be if we did this face to face and I thought this was going to be easier. It’s not. It’s just as hard. I miss you so much. Nothing is the same since you left and I’m so sorry I pushed you back home. I thought it was better for you to be home but I didn’t realize just how desperate I would be to have you with me right now. God, if I could, I would be with you right now, to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you like I wanted to do so much, but we can’t right now. But soon my love, we will be back together, and we will do all the things we wanted to. I promise you; we will do it all, together.” 

“Okay.” You sniff and hold the phone to your ear again. 

“Wow, you guys are in love. And he wants to make love to you?” Callie joked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh, shut up.” You say, whacking Callie with a pillow.

As Sam continued to tell you all the wonderful things, he had planned for you when the two of you were going to be reunited, you slowly fell asleep to sound of his voice. Of the man who held your heart and you had his heart. 

Tag list: @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​ @simpleb00x​ @tlovescoffee​ @juju-la-tortue​ @marvelfansworld​

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

Supernatural - Sign He Loves You Part 2

Authors Note: So I guess I shouldn’t have really left it on a cliff-hanger and when you fall asleep at night thinking you were happy with the outcome and then you shoot up awake and be like I have an IDEA! Yeah that was me at 4am - countless times. So here is part 2. For those who haven’t read it or need a refresher. And as always thank you for all your support its amazing <3

THE ROAD SO FAR…“She was stupid Sammy! Just plain stupid trying to protect us both and now she paid the price” I love you. “It’ll be a shock for her” I love you too. “Everything will be fine I promise” Son of a bitch. “Hello Fawn I’ve come to make you a deal.”

“Hello Fawn I’ve come to make you a deal” Crowley said to where you was met with a smug look on his face. Swallowing you took a slight step back wondering why the King of Hell was here and how he got in without setting of the alarm.

“Fawn relax, no need to worry your pretty little head but I did happen to hear about your unfortunate turn of events” He added.

“The pun intended Crowley?” You asked crossing your arms.

“Exactly” He replied.

“Wait? W...what’s happening?” You muttered to yourself, bringing your arms around to protect yourself.

“A taste of what’s to come if you agree to my terms.”

Standing now in silence, you calmed your breathing. Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear you composed yourself. Breathing steadily.

“Out with them then, your terms explain away” You said to the demon.

“It’s quite simple really” Crowley started as he pulled out a bit of folded paper from his pocket.

“Kill the name that’s on the list and your hearing will be as crystal clear as a babies bottom is smooth.” He finishes buttoning his jacket back up. Taking the piece of paper from him you opened it to see the name.

“Along with giving me your soul.” He muttered under his breath.

“Why the hell is my brothers name written on this?” You asked bitterly getting more angry as the seconds carried past.

“My, my Fawn you sure share you temper with squirrel. But your brother is no more, dead, deceased… capiche? Its just a unruly demon floating around in that meat-suit of his. Unruly demons are bad for business.” Crowley replied to you interrupting your rant.

“I may not be deaf at his moment Crowley but I heard you also wanted my soul, so what’s the price tag on that then?” You asked.

“10 years, just like everybody else” He replied.

“No way” You shot back shaking your head.

“Come now Fawn, I’m being generous that’s more then your life expectancy as a hunter” Crowley countered.

“I don’t see Castiel floating down here to help you, I happen to be your next best bet.” He added. You started to pace a little.

“Crowley that is where your very wrong, Sam and Dean their helping me adjust so we can work and live as a family. I can still hunt, I can still do research whether that be from in here or on the road.” You replied running a hand through your hair.

“You really expect to think squirrel is going to let you on the road after this?” Crowley replied to you.

“Leave Crowley” You pleaded.

“Think on my offer Fawn, I trust you want to find your brother or what’s left of him” He said, clicking his fingers disappearing. Taking your momentarily returned hearing with him.

Now you had returned to hearing nothing but silence your eyes had started to well up and a few stray tears rolled down your face, sniffling you wiped them with the cuff of ‘your’ shirt and padded back to bed. Your mind was running around a hundred times a moment and you thought what you had told Crowley was a pack of lies, deep down you knew that your life on the road as a hunter would come to a stop. You felt weak and a burden...

Entering your room you noticed that Dean was basically still in the same position as to when you left, moving the covers you got back into bed and cuddled up to him taking in his warmth seeking the comfort you had desperately craved, he stirred a little moving his arm to bring you closer to him, planting a kiss on the top of your head and then fell back into his deep slumber. Sighing you closed your eyes and tried to get a few more hours shut eye.

But your plan to get some so more sleep drastically failed, your conversation with the King of Hell just kept playing over and over in your head and if it wasn’t for the fact tossing and turning probably would have woken up Dean, you opted for staring at the ceiling it was boring and unbearable and my god were you exhausted but you could just not seem to settle.

Surprisingly exhaustion came and you finally had been able to drop back off to sleep, you were that tired that you hadn’t felt Dean get out of bed.

You stirred once more feeling a cold empty patch beside you, fluttering your eyes open you looked at the digital clock on the bedside table seeing that the time was 10:38am, you still felt rather groggy and opted for a cup of two of coffee knowing that caffeine would be your best friend in this situation like it had done many times in the past. With a few splashes of water and a change of clean clothes you headed towards the kitchen, you had wondered where the boys were walking towards the library popping your head in the entrance to see the large room empty with just a simple note left on the table.

GONE TO GET PIE – D X

You had let out a small chuckle and seeing Dean’s note brought a smile to your lips, you also happened to notice Sam’s laptop was also left on the desk surrounded by some papers and files. At first you wanted to abandon your current quest for a caffeine fix but went against the idea knowing that you would happen to regret it later in the day, so picking up the laptop and heading to the kitchen like you had set out to do, getting what you needed to put on another pot of coffee. While it was doing its magic you opened the lid on the laptop and brought up Sam’s program for getting into the police database. Entering your brothers name you had found numinous reports and within a matter of moments with some quick skimming your whole world was turned upside down. Growing up your brother was a good kid never got into trouble at school got good grades and then went into the army when he was 18. But the person you were reading about didn’t fit your brothers personality one bit and it frightened you. Article after article you found that your brother had been dishonourably discharged from the army and fell into the wrong crowd. According to the reports your little brother was the leader of the gang he had joined...

The demon was going to pay…

Getting a clean cup you poured yourself a generous amount of the black liquid while propped up against the counter you continued to find a paper trail looking for any traces of your so called brother, the files you had dug up were taking you across not just states but the country. He had hit big cities like New York and Jacksonville to even bother with smaller towns such as Beacon Falls and Cloverdale and it confused you, you couldn’t find a connection but you knew you had to keep on digging to try and get one step ahead so you could capture your brother and exercise it, hoping that Crowley was wrong that somehow your brother was alive and just stuck in a nightmare.

Sipping on your coffee your typing must of brought in some attention because Sam and Dean entered the kitchen. Letting out a smile to the brothers. “Find something?” Sam asked you slowly. You nodded your head. The boys came over to you as your brought up the window with your research. Taking a breath hoping you wouldn’t shout, you tried to explain what had happened in the night.

“C...Crowley came to me in the night” You started.

“A demon is possessing m...my brother” You finished letting your head down in defeat.

Immediately you felt the warm arms surround your body and head tucked underneath Dean’s chin. Sam span the computer around to him and did some more digging, while Dean used one hand to fish his mobile from his pocket.

In a matter of moment Crowley appeared before the three of us, seeing a click of fingers you felt that same sensation as one of your senses returned.

“Moose, Squirrel, Fawn. How are we today?” Crowley asked in a patronising tone.

“I see that I perked your interest Fawn, did you enjoy story time about your brother?” The demon asked adding to his opening line.

“Where is he?” You seethed, your body tensed and started to shake slightly with anger.

“You have the power to return Y/N hearing, do it and whatever you want doing we’ll do it.” Dean stated looking at Crowley head on.

“That’s not the deal is it Y/N? Find him first, hearing second.” Crowley replied.

“We never agreed on the terms so there is no deal between us Crowley. I will find the demon and remove it from my brother. But I will not just hand over my soul to you in exchange for my hearing!” You shouted.

“I’ll find the demon and you will owe me. I don’t want any help from you, I can do this. Me. Not Sam. Not Dean. Me.” You added storming out of the kitchen and headed for your bedroom.

As soon as you left the proximity you felt calmer but also back to hearing the darkness. Rushing around you picked up your duffel bag and started to throw in some clothes, lore books you kept in the cabinet of your bedside table along with your gun and blade. Zipping bag up you hurried out of the door and collided with the chest of Sam. He placed his hands on your shoulders and gave you a reassuring smile he took your bag from you and guided you back to the kitchen still seeing Crowley and Dean. You saw Crowley click his fingers together once more.

“We’ll find the demon. Just give Y/N her hearing back.” Dean said.

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Slash Fiction - Chapter 2

Title: Slash Fiction

Fandom: Supernatural

Series: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel (there will be more)

Rating: Lemon (for the series as a whole)

Tags: fluff, angst, pining, conon typical violence and gore

MASTERLIST

AO3

SERIES LIST

** My works are not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission, thanks a lot!!**

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Chapter 2

     As they stepped out of the elevator, they were greeted by the kid at the desk and several men standing behind him. Vincent walked over and Carter gestured behind him to the men waiting, “These are the guys for tomorrow's convention, can they start setup in ballroom one?”

     “Yes, Carter,” Vincent clapped him on the shoulder, “just have them sign in, I'm just going to see these agents out.”

     Carter nodded and scurried behind the desk, and Vincent turned back to them as they all began heading towards the door. Just before they reached it, the door swung open and both Dean and Sam stopped dead cold in their tracks.

     “Ah, Mr. Edlund,” Vincent exclaimed, taking the man's hand, “it's nice to see you again.”

     “And you, Vincent,” the man smiled back at him, “some of our vendors are here as well, is it alright if they set up their tables?”

     “Absolutely, it's the ballroom straight past the desk.”

     The man nodded then turned to the three of them, “Sam, Dean, what are you guys doing here?”

     “You know these agents, Mr. Edlund?”

     “They were working a case in the same town as another convention a few years back,” then he turned to Sam and Dean with a smile, “it's nice to see you again… agents.”

     “Yeah,” Dean stated roughly, “why don't we talk outside.”

     “Sure,” the man nodded and turned to walk back out.

     Once they were outside and the door was closed, Dean and Sam both shocked Sera by suddenly pinning the smaller man against the wall and getting in his space.

     “Is this you, Chuck?!” Dean growled, “Did you do this to amp up your god damn convention?!”

     “Woah!” Chuck held his hands up, “What are you talking about?! What do you think I did?”

     “Wait a second,” Sera pushed her way through, “this is Chuck? This is… this is God?” Sam, Dean, and Chuck all nodded to her and she looked him over with a wrinkled nose, “Seriously?”

     “Yeah, underrated right.” Sam then turned back to Chuck. “Someone was killed in this building two days ago. Strung up, cut open, heart missing, and throat slashed. Did you do this to bring attention to your stupid convention? And why are you still doing these anyways? You're god for… for god sake!”

     “First of all, I do the conventions because they’re fun, and it's nice to have people worship me for reasons other than the obvious,” he pushed Dean and Sam off and gestured to himself, “and second, no, I did not kill anyone just to bring attention to the event. I'm not insane.”

     “That could be argued,” Dean shook his head, then turned away from Chuck.

     Sera stepped forwards and eyed the small man, shrugged and held out her hand, “I’m Sera-”

     “Sera Wesson,” Chuck nodded, “yes, I know who you are.”

     She tightened her lips and took her hand back, “Right, of course you do,” then she added, “so, what kind of convention exactly does god hold at an old bed and breakfast?”

     “Come on in and find out.”

     She shrugged and much to Dean’s protests behind her, she followed Chuck back inside and into the ballroom where they were slowly starting to set up.

     She nearly died laughing when she walked in and saw the very large sign hug over the small stage that read “Supernatural” with a picture of two men to the side who looked very much like Sam and Dean. And turning to her left she couldn't help but laugh as she saw one of the vendors tables, covered in books. She walked over and started picking them up, chuckling to herself as she read the titles, “There's books about your lives?!”

     Dean came up behind her then and snatched the book from her hands, “No, we are not doing this! Let’s go.”

     He took her by the shoulders and dragged her out of the ballroom before she could look at anything else. “Awe come on, I wanna read them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Anything?” Dean asked as he walked inside the motel room. He shucked his shoes and placed the beer and burgers on the table in front of Sam, then sat in the chair across from him.

     “Nothing,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead, “I can't find any monster that would kill someone like that, and no luck on spirits either. No ones ever even died in the place, no violent hauntings in the past, we already know there's no EMF. I'm stumped, I have no idea.”

     “Great,” Dean grumbled, then turned to Sera on the bed, “what about you, Sera?”

     “Hmm?” She didn't even look up from her book.

     “Earth to Sera,” Dean got up and started walking over to her, “do you have any thoughts on what we’re dealing with here?”

     She looked up to him briefly then back down to the book in her hands, “Oh, no, I have no idea.”

     Dean gave her a look then lifted the book in her hands to see the cover, “What are you reading? It doesn't look like a lore book-”

     Dean's eyes went wide when he saw the cover and she just smirked at him, “Dean, you didn't tell me you watched pizza man porn with Cas.”

     Sam nearly choked as Dean ripped the book from her hands, “Where did you get this?!”

     “I went back to the convention this morning and bought them while you were at the library doing research,” she smirked and pulled another book out from under her pillow, “these are hilarious!”

     “Why did you go back for these?! And how many do you have?!” He leaned over her and started reaching around under the pillows, finding more books.

     “The life and times of Dean and Sam Winchester, who wouldn't want to read them.” She opened the book in her hands and started skimming through it. “I've also noticed since I started reading these that there is a lot of things you and Sam haven't told me. I haven't seen you two idiots in almost six years and you somehow ‘forget’ to tell me that Sam slept with both a demon and a werewolf? And Dean,” she eyed him over the top of her book, “you haven't told me the half of it when it comes to Cas. I knew there was something, i just didn't realize it had been going on for this long! Get it together already.”

“What about Cas?” He narrowed his eyes at her, clutching to the pile of books stacked in his arms.

     She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows before saying, “There's a lot of 'sub' in this 'text' if you catch my drift.”

     She sent a wink at Dean and watched with joy as the blush quickly crept up his neck and into his cheeks, before he lunged forwards and snatched that book as well then ran outside. “I’m burning these, no more reading for you!”

     “Hey give that back!” She shouted from the bed as Dean left the room, “I still have two more chapters to read!”

     “You're not reading these anymore!”

     “I need to find out if the angel rebels against heaven and saves the princess in the tower!” She smirked at Sam who was also trying to hold in his laughter, “I was right at the part where the angel had the princess pinned up against the wall, it really seemed like things were starting to heat up!”

     “No!” Was all they heard shouted from outside.

     They both laughed, not able to hold it in any longer as she shouted back, “You won't stop me, Dean Winchester!”

     Sera and Sam sat in the room and laughed together for a few more minutes before she reached into her bag and grabbed her laptop, “I'll bet this shit's online, and Dean can't burn down the internet,” she cackled.

     Sam chuckled again, caught his breath then said, “But getting back to the case, we should probably head back to the bed and breakfast and see if we missed something. I’m having no luck anywhere else.”

     “Yeah,” she closed her laptop, “you're probably right. Once Dean’s finished trying to deny the already obvious, we’ll head over.”

     Sam nodded, “I’m glad I'm not the only one who sees it.”

     “You could see it from the other side of the galaxy,” she placed her computer back in her bag and got up to stretch, “maybe they should read the books and see what we see.”

     “They just need to get over themselves. I've been working on it for years but it's been damn near impossible,” he turned and smirked at her, “but if I know you, and I do, you’ll have it your way in the end.”

     She turned to Sam mid stretch and winked with a nod as she walked into the bathroom, “Grab Dean, we’ll leave in five minutes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Sam and Dean were walking through the convention, more like pushing their way through. It had seemed that since they last spoke to Chuck his books were doing better than ever.

     “Damnit, it's packed in here,” Dean grumbled as someone dressed like him bumped his elbow, “and where the hell is Sera?!”

     “Speak of the devil,” Sam smirked as he gestured through the crowd and Dean turned in the direction, grumbling when he saw what was walking their way.

     “This. Convention. Is. Amazing!” Sera exclaimed when she reached the boys.

     Dean shook his head then pointed to all the bags in her hands, “What the hell is all this, it better not be more books.”

     “Since you would only burn them anyways, I did not buy more books, but,” she started rifling through the bags in her hands and pulling things out, “I did buy pretty much everything else! I got these impala socks, this necklace with a small jar of salt on it, this mug that when you put hot water inside shows the words to an exorcism, a hat that says ‘ballz’.” She laughed as she put it on. “A key chain that says ‘driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’, these enochian symbol earrings, and look at these!” She pulled out several boxes shoving them at Dean, “These are called 'Funko pops', and they had one of everyone. You, Sam, Cas, Bobby, Jody, so I got them all.”

     “Why,” Dean moaned, “why are you so into this?”

     “Because it's hilarious, and I have more!” Dean rolled his eyes as she kept going, placing an object on her face, “These are my personal favourite, devils trap sunglasses, I also got this key chain for Sam that says ‘bitch’ and when you flip it over there's a moose on the other side.”

     She handed it to Sam and he smiled, “Thanks!”

     “You're welcome, and I got this one for Cas that says ‘assbutt’, I think he’ll enjoy that. And don't think I forgot you Dean, I got you these pins, they came in a pack!” She grabbed the pack out and started pinning them to his jacket, “This one says ‘jerk’, this one says ‘I’m with assbutt’ and I’m giving Cas the matching one that says ‘i’m with jerk’, this one says ‘squirrel’, this one says ‘i hope you're apple pie is freakin' worth it’, this one says ‘eat me’, this one says ‘don't fudging touch me’, and my all time favourite is this rainbow one that I got them to custom make for me which says ‘I heart Cas’.”

     Dean then shoved everything back at her and swatted her hands away just as Chuck came walking up.

     “I see you're having fun,” he looked at the bags in her hands, the glasses and hat she was still wearing, and smiled.

     “Oh, this is the most fun I've had in a long time,” she moved closer to Chuck and leaned in to ask, “if I give you my number can you text me the address of the next convention-”

     “No,” Dean moved them apart and stood between them, “no more conventions.”

     “Did you see the booths in the room off the back?” Chuck asked ignoring Dean.

     Sera pulled the glasses down to peer at chuck with a smirk, “There's more booths?!”

     “Yeah, this way.”

     He moved around Dean and lead her to the other booths as Sam and Dean followed, much to Dean’s disapproval.

     When they walked in, there was another room just as big as the last, completely filled with vendors, and Sera ran right over to the first booth.

     “No,” Dean said, grabbing the book from her and putting it back on the table, “I said no more books.”

     “Oh come on! There is so much you guys haven't told me, but it's all in the books, right there for me to read,” she answered as she picked up another book, flipping through and skimming a few pages, “and look, Dean, you're full frontal in this one!”

      “Jesus…” he pinched the bridge of his nose and she placed the book down.

     “Alright fine,” she then moved over to the next booth, “if I can't have books then how about… fanfiction. What's that?”

     She picked up a few of the books on that table and the lady from the booth moved over to answer her, “Fanfiction is content about the characters in the Supernatural series that is written by the fans.”

     “Seriously,” she looked up in awe, “people write about Sam and Dean?”

     The lady at the booth nodded then pointed to the two sides of the table, “There's different versions as well. So here we have what's called cannon, that follows the plot line of the books, we also have alternate universe fics over here as well.”

     “What's that?”

     “Still Sam and Dean but in completely different worlds,” she picked one up and handed it to Sera, “this one is really good, I've read it several times. It's about Sam and Dean in the real world, Dean’s a firefighter and Sam is a lawyer. Castiel is in it as well as a police officer.”

     “This is great, oh this is great!” The lady then pointed to her left once again to a further table.

     “There is also what's called slash fiction, if you migrate slightly right, my friend Annitta can tell you about that.”

     Sera didn't say anything else, but just moved to the right, “Hello Annitta!” The redhead smiled at Sera as she stopped in front of the table, “Tell me about slash fiction!”

     “What's your favourite ship?”

     “My what now?” She looked at the girl with raised brows.

     “Who's your favourite couple?” She moved her hands over the table as she explained, “We have the most popular ship being destiel, which is Dean and Cas.”

     “Of course it's the most popular,” she chuckled, “is there one for Sam?”

     “Yes,” Annitta smiled and moved her hand to the right, “it's called sabriel, Sam and Gabriel.”

     “Yes!” Sera cheered as Sam pushed past her to the table.

      “Seriously?!” He asked grabbing up a book, “Sam and Gabriel? As in the archangel Gabriel? You know Sam’s straight right.”

      Both Annitta and Sera made a noise, and Sam looked to her beside him, “I mean, you guys do seem to flirt a lot in the books.”

     “That's not true!”

     “It kind of is,” then she turned back to Annitta and asked, “and what's this one?”

     “That's the wincest pairing.”

     “Awe hell,” Dean shook his head behind them.

     “It's Dean and Sam,” Annitta continued.

     “Dean and Sam, as in together, like together.” Annitta nodded and Sera scrunched her nose in disgust, “You do now they’re brothers right!?”

     Annitta just shrugged, “It's not for everyone.”

     Sera nodded, then grabbed her wallet from her bag, “Give me the most popular destiel fic and the most popular sabriel fic.”

     “You're buying these?” Dean covered his face with his hands, “Come on, Sera!”

     “What?” She looked back to him, then handed the girl a fifty and took her bag, “You won't let me buy the real books, so fanfiction it is.”

     “Agents?” The three turned around to see Vincent walking towards them, “Ah, I thought that was you. Fans are we?”

     “I am now!” Sera smiled, holding her bags up with pride.

     “Are you all staying for tonight's game then?”

     “What game?” She asked, all kinds of excited now.

     Sam turned to answer her question, “At every convention there's a game, a hunt. The hotel or venue puts out clues and gets their staff to play along, and the people who register for the game have to figure out what kind of monster is ‘killing’ the guests, and how to kill it. The winners usually get a gift card or something.”

     “Ahh,” Sera nodded, “like a murder mystery party.”

     “Exactly.” Vincent smiled at her.

     “How are you going to do the hunt here?” Dean stepped in, still annoyed, “You can't access the second or third floors without a key card.”

     “For one night only, those who have registered for the hunt will be locked into the building. Once the building is locked we are going to turn off the key card senors to the elevators so that the players can access the upper floors as well.”

     “What about the other guests?”

     “There are none,” all three shot him a confused look, “Mr. Edlund booked our venue long in advance so that he could book the entire venue, including every room so as to make sure that the after hours hunt would not be disturbing any outside guests. All the rooms upstairs are empty.”

     “That man never ceases to amaze me,” Dean shook his head.

     “That being said, I must go start preparing for this evening. And should you like to stay and participate in the game, Carter at the front desk can help you to register. I do hope I see you all later.” And with that he excused himself.

     “Guys, I think we should register!”

     “Sera, no,” Dean grumbled, “we have actual work to do. In case you don't remember, some poor sap was killed here three days ago and by what, we still don't know.”

     “But that's the thing,” she moved in to whisper to them, “playing the game keeps us close and keeps us inside the building once it's locked down. That way if anything happens, we’re already here and we don't have to fight our way inside and waste time.”

     “She's right, Dean,” Sam nodded, “I think we should register.”

     He let out a hard sigh, “Fine! Let's go see that kid at the front desk and get this over with.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

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A/N: So yeah, theres chapter two! More to come <3

Tags: @kitsunecastiel