#retired hunter Sam

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Rating: Teen and Up

Warning Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Sam Winchesyer, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Gabriel, Jo Harvelle, OFC, Bobby Singer, OMC, Background Characters & Cameos

Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Wiinchester

Additional Tags: lawyer Sam, Detective Jo, Hunter Network is ran by Dean and Castiel,

On a cool night in Autumn at the foot of a shy-looking angel statue whose lips were slightly pursed holding calla lilies, there lay a man in a maroon jacket and black t-shirt wearing jeans and dark red cowboy boots–his wallet still in his back pocket and his cellphone in his maroon jacket. His eyes and mouth open wide, face pale with his arms strewn around him. If one were to look closely, his sternum revealed a small bloody wound, blood slowly soaking into the expanse of his shirt. The poor girl who found him holding a bouquet of roses in her hand, dropped them before she ran away screaming. Once in her car, she locked the doors before dialing 9-1-1. She was pale and in shock when the ambulance arrived followed minutes later by the local police.

When Homicide Detective Joanna Harvelle was called, she was asleep in bed with her long-term girlfriend, Jax. She quickly dressed, grabbed her gear, kissed her girlfriend goodnight, and left for the crime scene. She nodded at her fellow police officers before grabbing gloves and shoe booties. Upon crossing the “Do Not Enter” tape threshold, she surveyed the area for any obvious clues or oddities but nighttime made it nearly impossible to find any. Her partner, Detective James O’Malley, wanted to update her as she walked over to the victim but noticed her examining the statue and waited. Amelia Jones, the Lead Forensic Officer, was photographing the victim allowing Jo to see the body.

James began, “Victim is Jesse Seth Smith, male, 32, victim of a stabbing to the upper torso. Blade appears relatively thin and just barely pierced through the body, perhaps a small sword of some kind. He had his wallet and cellphone on him, so not a mugging.”

“Seems personal,” stated Amelia. “But that just seems to be from the facial expression and closeness of the attacker.”

“Hmm,” Jo hummed, noncommittally. She eyed his face. “Maybe it was just a surprise attack. It is night and other than noise, hard to see.”

Amelia and James nodded in agreement. “True,” said James.

The next day, Jo phoned Sam asking him to lunch to discuss a possible case for him. He agreed, excited to see one of his old friends. They met at their usual restaurant in a corner booth inside to allow for some privacy. Sam arrived first ordering drinks for them and waiting for Jo. When Jo arrived, she was hungry having missed breakfast as she tried to research the victim and studied the crime scene at the cemetery, which was not a big help.

She sat in the booth across from one of her closest friends and handed him the file folder of the case. The waiter came up asking for their order, and they ordered their usual meals.

Sam examined the case files and pictures as well as one picture of the statue. The statue reminded him of one of the few times he was in that cemetery.

Sam, Jess, and Brady stroll through Mercy Cross cemetery in their Stanford days. Sam and Jess holding hands with Brady as a tag-a-long to the side of Sam.

Jessica saw an angel statue in the distance and pointed at it. “That statue has a legend.” She continues once they are closer. “Some random artist claimed to have made the statue and moved it here but there was no evidence at the time but a legend was born from it. The legend says that if you kiss him ‘like a lover’ the statue wakes up. Thankful for being about to feel human emotions–the air on his skin, he grants you a wish.“

“That’s stupid”, Brady replies. His face scrunched and rolled his eyes.

Sam points at the statue and the amount of lipstick on it, “People kiss him like they’d kiss a man, but maybe, angels get kissed differently.”

Jess asks, “How you would kiss an angel?”

Jessica’s question lingers in his mind as he looks at the photos. “Can you send me a copy?” Inquired Sam. “I’ll forward it to Dean too.”

“Of course. I’ll email you tonight.”

“Thanks.”

That evening when Sam received the email, he forwarded the information to Dean who started research at the Men of Letters bunker library. That weekend Sam spent the weekend there as they researched angels, and various religious texts, and tried to identify who the angel could be.

Sam returns to the bunker that weekend to find it empty. He texted Dean asking if he was on a case. It was a few hours into his research on angels that he received a reply:

On a case with Cas. Weird shit. Should be back tomorrow. Will update then, Bitch.

Sam chuckled, grinning, and replied:

Ok. Tell Cas I said hi. Stay safe, Jerk.

Unfortunately, there was nothing in the former Men of Letters, North America division bunker that connected angels and kissing or much on relationships other than missions, duties, wars, and even being able to use certain humans as “vessels”. He’s been researching this on and off for the last three weeks.

After having lunch, he decided to change directions and delved into lore that included kissing—maybe it’s about the kissing part and not the divine aspect.

He began by dissecting the legend:

“If you kiss him ‘like a lover’ the statue wakes up, and thankful for being able to feel human emotions and air on his skin, he grants you a wish.”

“Nothing actually grants you wishes. There’s always a price,” Sam mumbled to himself. He tapped the pen on his lips as he skimmed through the card catalog.

“Kiss, kisses, kiss of death, true love’s kiss, Cupid’s kiss—Metamorphosis’ Psyche and Cupid’s love story, mmm, a kiss under the mistletoe, Aphrodite’s kiss, Angel kisses—doesn’t mean shit and useless information, Demon Deals and Kissing—probably already know but…eh, kiss of life, mmm, Rusalka’s kiss—hmm….ok, let’s see what I can find.” Sam goes and selects the books referenced in the various topics, then begins reading.

“Wait, kiss like a lover and the statue wakes up. Sleeping Beauty? Snow White? It’s a fairytale?” Sam hummed in thought as he contemplated changing directions. “Angels don’t kiss like humans. They don’t normally have bodies.” He continued going through the books.

“Rusalka’s kiss seems more like the Little Mermaid but more violent for all parties. Huh, kiss of death. Mmm, no.” Sam puts the book away.

“Metamorphosis didn’t help either.” He pursed his lips and tapped at them with his brows furrowed in thought.

“True love’s kiss isn’t real. Those are all in fairytales and some are…yuck.” He continued to read the books without much luck and decided to call it a night. Once the books were put away, he headed out to the cemetery to visit the statue.

He carefully dealt with the area to make sure he didn’t disturb anything before examining the statue. He took his own pictures all around the area and the statue. He stared at the statue’s lips—his heart rate picked up, his palms were sweaty and his eyes squinted, confusion crossed his face.

It’s a statue.

Sam’s hazel eyes never left the lips as he contemplated if he should try to kiss it. Nothing in the lore so far showed it’d come true, the legend. He shrugged, stepped in front of the angel, his thighs brushing the platform, and hesitated a moment before leaning forward pecking the statue's lips. Humming disapprovingly, he huffed and pressed his lips to the statue’s again, lingering and gentle. He stepped away and nothing happened.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, sighing heavily. “Do you even want to be kissed?” He asked aloud. He stepped forward and traced the tip of his index finger down the statue’s neck and bared shoulder. The urge to fix the angel’s tunic lingered before he pulled his hand away and shook it, the urge to cover and protect the angel feeling quickly faded. He pursed his lips, shook his head, and turned to head back to the car.

The research went on for nearly three weeks in between Sam’s day job before another victim was discovered near the statue. The next day, Jo advised Sam of the second victim and gave him the updated information as well as more pictures.

“It’s the same weapon,” stated Dean. He put a book down in front of Sam revealing an odd-looking blade. “Technically, a short sword, barely but it’s an archangel blade.”

“You think that could be the state of an archangel?”

“I mean it makes sense.”

“Which one?”

“Bobby knows more about angels than me and has more books on it than we do here. I’ll forward the info to him and see if he can find out which one it is.”

In the meantime, Sam and Jo would have lunch once a week to update each other on the case. The last time, Jo brought her girlfriend, Jax, with her. Sam, ever the gentleman stood and offered his hand as they arrived.

“Nice to meet you, Jax,” Sam said with a smile as they sat down in their, now, usual booth.

“Sorry to surprise you,” apologized Jo. “This is related to the case.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. “Oh.”

“Go ahead. I promise he will believe you, babe.” Jo took Jax’s hand under the table, squeezing it.

The waiter came up, a smile on his face. “What can I get for you folks?”

“Water with lemon, please,” responded Jax.

“Diet Coke,” offered Jo.

“Half and Half iced tea, please,” informed Sam.

“Coming right up.”

“Thanks,” the three said in unison.

“We can wait until after we order our food,” offered Sam.

“Probably best. I’m sure you’ll have questions,” advised Jax.

Sam smiled and nodded as they waited for their drinks.

When the drinks arrived, Jo stated they were ready to order and advised how the check should be cut.

“Of course,” confirmed the waiter.

Jo and Sam ordered their usuals. Jax ordered a muffuletta.

“Don’t think I’m kissing you until you brush your teeth and tongue, toots,” condemned Jo.

“Well, I better get them now, huh?” Jax playfully admonished. She leaned forward and chastely kissed Jo.

Sam looked at the case file, trying to not make it any more awkward, as his cheeks heated up. The two women were surprisingly loud in their small makeout session. Thankfully, the restaurant was always fast making their lunch

“Ooo, you go girls,” said the waiter with a wide, toothy grin.

The two women chuckled.

The waiter leaned over to Sam and squeezed his shoulder. “Ever the gentleman.Mmmm.” He winked at Sam as he headed back to the kitchen.

“Ooo,” teased Jo. “I think you just got hit on.”

Sam rolled his eyes and stabbed into his salad before taking a bite. Once he was done chewing and took a sip of his drink. He cleared his throat. “We’re here on business, Jo.”

“Maybe you should ask him,” recommended Jax.

He glanced at the waiter and then back to the girls. “If I did, it wouldn’t be in front of you two. You’d just make a huge deal of it.”

“It is a big deal though. I mean now that you’re fully authentic, Sam. You know there is nothing wrong with guys but I know you haven’t tried really dating one yet either.” She leaned toward him and whispered. “Fucking them isn’t dating, Sam.”

His face grew warm again as he took a sip of his iced tea.

“Aww, the baby gay is shy. That’s adorable,” whispered Jax.

“I’m not gay,” corrected Sam. “I’m pansexual.”

“You’re a baby gay, Sam. You’re new to this part of the community and you’re looking for men to try out as well as maybe have a romantic relationship. It’s ok. We all gotta start somewhere,” Jo tried to soothe him.

He scoffed, giving her one of his signature bitchfaces “Can we get back to the case, please?”

She grinned and nodded, then looked at Jax.

Jax put down her sandwich and drank her water before clearing her throat. “Jo says you deal with weird, crazy stuff, like supernatural stuff.”

Sam nodded, remaining silent.

“Well, I can–I can hear–,” She paused and took another sip before continuing. “Angels. They’re not spirits. I’ve tried everything I can to check, including going to other psychics who are more powerful than me.”

Sam’s face remained stoic and glanced at Jo. Her attention was fully on Jax with their hands beneath the table. Sam smiled slightly at this, happy Jo found her person.

“I can hear them, and sometimes, I interact with them. It’s rare but I did when I was much younger,” she explained. “The thing is I’ve researched angels as well as what I’ve heard. I’m a Pagan and a–”

“It’s ok,” cooed Jo. “You’re safe.”

“I’m a witch. I practice witchcraft but nothing bad. It’s more protection and helping people.”

“Cool,” replied Sam, wanting to show Jax she was safe with him.

“I’ve researched all the Abrahamic religions that I could get my hands on: Judaism, Christianity, Islam, even the Baha’i Faith. The polytheistic ones don’t view angels as angels. They exist but with different names as well as different sorts of references to them,” she advised.

He nodded. “Makes sense. I’ve done some of my own research but good points on checking polytheistic religions. I’ll add that to my list to check.”

Jax smiled, proudly. “Anyway,” she began again. “Angels don’t kiss like humans. They rarely come down to Earth without a mission.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Unlike humans—“ she took a deep breath. “Angels have soulmates. They have either other supernatural beings or humans they are fated to be with.” Jax remained silent for a moment before taking another bite of her sandwich.

Sam had a lot to think about. “Thank you for trusting me and sharing this with me. I really appreciate it,” he thanked Jax. “Thanks,” he said to Jo.

“Of course.”

The next day was uneventful until near dinner time when Sam received a call from Bobby Singer.

“Hey, Bobby, What’s up?”

“It’s an angel blade, specifically an archangel sword,” Bobby replied without explanation.

“What?”

“Your email about those murders. The statue in the cemetery is the Archangel Gabriel and the murder victims are being killed with an archangel sword. It sounds like maybe that sword and statue are tied.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. “Whoa.”

“Yep. I’m gonna take some pics of text and email them to you. I’ll include the book titles in case you got them, there in the bunker.”

“Thank you, Bobby. Really appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

What Sam never mentioned to anyone is that he drives by that cemetery every day to and from work. He decided to drop by and examine the area around the Archangel statue tonight but got a surprise instead: he stumbled upon victim number three. He quickly checks her pulse and finds none. It seems she’s been here for maybe thirty minutes or so if the temperature of her body reads right. He called Jo and waited for the police. He examined the woman: she was a voluptuous woman with beautifully soft brown hair in ringlets and tanned skin in a cute black dress ruined by the blood pooling on her chest and around her from the small wound in her sternum. He started snapping pictures of the woman and around the statue as he waited without touching the victim. His chest ached at the loss.

In the wooded area of the cemetery, a man in black stood in the shadows of the trees watching Sam, examining him.

Nearly ten minutes passed when police sirens were heard in the distance and Jo ran up to Sam a few minutes later, checking on him. Sam, of course, was fine and started updating Jo about what happened and why he was there.

The man in the shadows ran off, deeper into the woods, disappearing before anyone noticed.

About two hours later, the police were done and the Forensics team was done. Sam had given his statement to Jo and a few other police officers. The assistant coroner dropped by confirming the victim was dead before the ambulance carted her off to the coroner’s office morgue.

Sam headed home, took notes, and updated Dean on the third victim. Jo, later that night, texted Sam stating that Forensics confirmed the same weapon and confirmed that the police were treating this as a serial killer case since the m.o. is identical. Three victims make a pattern even though the victims seem to have no known connections.

At work the following day, Sam researched the victims in his own legal databases and with the courts where he found that all three were acquitted due to lack of evidence or witnesses for potential crimes that were committed.

The first victim, Jesse Seth Smith, in Jesse Smith v. City of Stanford, CA where he was charged with fraud. Somehow the evidence disappeared and the case was acquitted due to lack of evidence.

The second victim, Jonah Lawrence Tracker, in Jonah Tracker v. City of Stanford, CA where he was charged with identity theft and fraud; however, the person’s identity, Lawrence Jackson, he stole disappeared, so the case was acquitted due to lack of witness.

The latest victim, Michelle Amanda Jones, in Michelle Jones v. City of Stanford, CA where she was charged with aggravated assault had the case dismissed due to the victim changing their mind on pressing charges.

Sam’s gut told him this information was relevant but he did not know how.

That following weekend when Sam headed back to the bunker, he was greeted by Dean teaching Castiel to make bread. He grinned at his older brother and their best friend covered in flour. There was a fight at some point but they didn’t want to waste their dough, so it was extra ingredients instead.

“I ain’t cleaning that up,” advised Sam, chuckling.

“Of course not, Sam. Dean and I will be cleaning this up,” Cas stated matter-of-factly.

Dean quirked a brow at the angel and rolled his eyes before focusing on his little brother.

“How’s the research?” Asked Dean.

“Not sure. Bobby said the statue was of the Archangel Gabriel. I did research of the three victims legally and found each one was acquitted.”

“Ah,” acknowledged the Angel as he continued to knead the bread. “Perhaps the killer is seeking justice where there was none. Gabriel is known for being a quite righteous archangel who had a peculiar sense of justice.”

“Peculiar, how?”

“Such as if a criminal were to rob someone of their belongings, Gabriel would have their victim win the lottery, so the criminal would attempt to rob them, again only to arrange for them to be caught with all evidence needed or killed by their greed, such as literally choking on money or jewelry. If a criminal were to lie and harm another because of it, then he would probably make it to where the criminal would only be able to speak the truth until they received justice or be killed.”

“But that isn’t what the serial killer is doing, it’s more like sacrifices to the statue,” informed Sam.

“So, it probably isn’t Gabriel that’s killing people. Everyone has their own ideas or sense of justice, Sammy. Maybe, the killer wanted to exact justice themselves to ensure it is done or to honor the statue.” Dean offered.

Sam hummed. “Perhaps.”

Sam didn’t return to the statue until the following week. He dropped by the squad car with coffee and pastry snacks for the police officers watching the cemetery before he walked up towards the crime scene. The police had decided to close off the cemetery at night since all three murders occurred then. Thanks to Jo, he had special permission to enter the area to aid in the investigation. This isn’t the first time he has worked as a liaison with the police and as a defense attorney for the city. It was helpful to have good friends with the same sense of justice as he.

He remained vigilant entering the grounds. He had not forgotten about the person in the woods when he discovered the third victim. While he was armed with a gun under his suit coat and a knife at his ankle, he was unsure if he could handle a sword without one with him, but who carries one around with them?

Sam was correct to be wary as he approached the statue for he was being watched by the same individual in the woods next to the Mercy Cross Cemetery. He carefully approached it, reexamining the area and the statue itself.

“Why would anyone think you’re real, Gabriel?” Sam asked aloud. Of course, he received no response. He felt drawn to the statue, and his curiosity peaked. He reached out, his fingertips tracing the statue’s face and lips, lingering on the Archangel’s lips. “What am I to do with you?” He pushed away how he felt drawn to the statue, confusing as it was, until now. He still didn’t know why but even the pictures he had taken, didn’t do it justice. In person, it’s as if Gabriel is alive and just waiting for something.

A branch cracked to his left, he turned to look at it and was blindsided by a punch to the jaw, knocking Sam prone beside the statue. The man, dressed in a black shirt, matching jeans, and sneakers swung the sword down. Thankfully, Sam recovered quickly with his hunter reflexes and rolled away. “Fuck!” Sam exclaimed as he got to his feet, only to tumble back with the speed of his attacker. Sam saw the man’s face, his eyes glowed golden as he bared his teeth and growled.

“What the–?!” Sam started to crab walked back and rolled to the side. His attacker practically flailed the sword. He did the only thing he could think of and prayed:

Gabriel! GABRIEL! HELP! FUCK! If you’re awake, get your ass over here and stop this guy from killing me!

Sam’s hazel eyes remained on his attacker as he remained supine, working with all his strength and speed to avoid getting hurt. He noticed his attacker did not react as if he heard Sam’s prayer; however, a brilliant white-blue light blinded the area. Sam took advantage and got up, running into the woods as he watched the man with the sword stare at the once statue, now living Archangel Gabriel. He was a perfect, colored version of the statue:

Blonde hair swept to the side that complimented glowing golden tanned skin, matching golden eyes glanced at the murderer before looking to Sam. Gabriel’s skin seemed to be glowing from within emphasizing the white of the toga that fell to just below his knees. His feet were bare against the crunch of dead leaves and frost.

Sam felt his chest warm, a feeling of familiarity and safety enveloped him when he met Gabriel’s eyes.

Upon the first step Gabriel took towards Sam, the murderer fell to his knees. “My Lord!”

Gabriel turned back around, face slack looking at the bowed head of the human in front of him with a quirked brow. The Archangel noticed the blade in the human’s hand. “How the fuck did you get that?” Quickly, Gabriel bent down meeting the man’s eyes, aglow. “That, dickhead.” He wrenched the hilt from the human’s hand. “Is mine.” The human’s eye quickly went out, his hands covered his eyes and screamed as if in pain.

Gabriel suddenly snapped his fingers, everything stood still. The silence was deafening–no wind, no city sounds, no animals, nothing. He leaned forward, reaching out his hand, and rested it on top of the man’s head. The man’s form suddenly streaked with a golden glow as if lightning moving upward, as if crawling, into Gabriel’s hand.

Sam watched, this felt familiar too, but he couldn't remember why. The glowing gold streaks, like lightning, were gone nearly as quickly as they appeared. The man, the murderer, eyes rolled in the back of his head as his mouth fell open as if a silent scream before he fell unconscious on the ground. Gabriel stood there a moment, his head tilted staring at the man before turning back around. He looked back to Sam, silent.

Sam slowly approached the Archangel with a hesitant smile. “Thank you,” he quietly said. Gabriel nodded with a small smile on his pale pink lips. His golden eyes were soft as he looked up at Sam. Sam stuck his hands in his pants pockets, his shoulders high around his ears as he glanced down before stopping about a foot from the former statue.

Gabriel smirked, dropping his sword that Sam never heard hit the ground. When his hazel eyes glanced down, the sword was nowhere to be found. The Archangel shrugged at Sam’s squinting eyes. Gabriel glanced at Sam’s lips then his platform.

“Before you go,” Sam began. Gabriel looked back to Sam, dark blonde eyebrows raised. “Could I, uh….” He pressed his lips together before he tried again. “Could I have a kiss?”

Gabriel grinned, teeth perfect and white like anyone would expect from an Archangel, and nodded.

Gabriel reached his hand towards Sam’s face. Sam walked straight to the Archangel whose hand cupped his cheek. The feeling of familiarity strengthened upon the touch. The warmth in Sam’s chest practically burned as if he desired the angel. He opened his mouth, which Gabriel took as an invitation, and pressed his lips to the human’s mouth.

The moment their lips touched, Sam’s eyes glowed a matching gold as memories played in his mind in mere seconds. Old memories of his love for Gabriel were finally remembered.

Gabriel gasped and pulled back at the recognition. “It’s you,” he whispered in relief.

Sam grinned, quickly catching the archangel’s hand in his own hand as he recognized his soulmate. “Gabriel?” Sam’s brow furrowed, mouth open, and took a step forward to reach grab his shoulder. Sam bent down and recaptured Gabriel’s lips with his, slanted. Their eyes fluttered closed as the two reunited. Gabriel’s hands pulled Sam down to him and wrapped his arms around his human’s shoulders. Sam’s hands slide down to Gabriel’s upper back, pushing the Archangel against his chest.

When Sam pulled back, he rested his forehead against Gabriel’s. “I’m so sorry it took me so long, Gabe.”

“No, no. You didn’t know,” Gabe soothed as tears fell down his cheeks. “All is forgiven, Love.”

Sam chuckled, wetly. “No wonder you were waiting for the perfect kiss.” He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against the Archangel, an affection remembered from millennia past.

Gabe grinned and sniffed.

Sam understood now–it doesn’t matter where you have to kiss your angel, so long as you kiss them with fondness and love.

@spnsabrielbang

Written by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Art by @bakh-meliorism

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: A murder has occurred at the foot of the legendary angel statue in Mercy Cross cemetery and Sam is called in for help from an old friend.

The inspiring art piece

[satoshy12]

While most people have this with Angst I don't like it, so here!

At first, it was funny, but later, Danny didn't care much. His classmates became Ghost Hunters with his parents help, and while they could defeat 1 or 2 ghosts a day, they could not defeat the other 20 to 40 ghosts that come out once a day.  Then Danny learns Phantom is seen as a villain for the League and is like, "Well then. Not my problem anymore." So he took Sam, and Tucker just left. They were planning a vacation; they will go on one! He had enough money from his work as an ice sculpture maker. What his powers! He can do what he wants. At least now Justice League would help the "hero town.". 

[paunchsalazar]

Dean should have been the new new Bobby… I’ll kill myself

[sasanka-27]

Based on my fic where Dean mentions he owns a Cas body pillow (gifted by Sam) because you know SPN is canon in Supernatural hehehe

[calibrationneeded]

Some of my retired Dean head canons and tattoos <3

Some higher res close ups

Cas version

[val-of-the-north]

Some random Bloodborne doodles I made

[dance-in-moonlight]

This would be the post to link all your retirement fics under 😏🙏

13.23 - Let the Good Times Roll

[herefortheships]

I just watched the Supernatural pilot episode for the first time in around ten years and I have to say that it's so surreal seeing where this show started vs how it ended.

[solarmidnight]

I think people forget the biggest difference in how Jensen acts toward Supernatural compared to Jared is that Jared got a complete story arc for his character, as shitty as that ending may have been for him. Sam retired from the hunter life, had a wife and a family, and grew old in peace and relative happiness. Dean died with his storyline unfinished. 15x18 clearly set him up to respond to Castiel's confession, and he wasn't able to. Dean dies on a hunt young, miserable, and alone - exactly how he thought he'd go out when he was 26. That's not a satisfying conclusion; it's a slap in the face. And Jensen knows that. That's why he can't let Supernatural go; it's not finished for him yet.

[maipareshaan]

No fr s6 has such a slimey gross vibe like oo i love it

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

I started writing this and it’s starting off like a terrible “Sookie Stackhouse” story. 🤦

Reader insert coming soon.

People who see souls shouldve treated sam like an eldrich monster in s6. Like his soul has been ripped apart and is a mess. People who can see souls/angels/demons/witches should recoil when they meet him. Even demons should wince at the sight of him. It would add a whole new dimension to sam and the other characters like what if rowena could see sams messed up soul but instead of recoiling it interested her and she wanted to understand how this little human boy is tortured in such a way that he should be a demon but isnt. I just think it would be a nice touch.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡When They Realised That They Loved You｡⋆.

Team free will x plus size reader (separately)

Warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, fluff, (somehow Dean’s isn’t the angsty one), undefined relationship (Dean), mention of scars, sam detoxing off demon blood, childhood friends to strangers to ?, heartbreak, pain, mention of torture and pain and Dean’s death, sam being sad, gentleness, Ruby can catch these hands, seemingly unrequited love on both sides, a kid being lost, castiel being stupidly in love and not knowing what to do with himself, humanity being good WC: 3.8k

Minors DNI

A/N: One assignment left baby!!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Dean- When you were the only person he could let his walls down with

You weren’t exactly a hunter but you also weren’t exactly a civilian. You were… something else. You could shoot, recite an exorcism backwards and outdrink the most seasoned hunter but you also were stationary, paid your taxes, even had a retirement fund and to Dean, you were safe. And a damn good lay at that.

“That’s it baby. Move those hips for me.” Your nails bit into the muscles of his chest as you lifted yourself up on shaky legs, then slammed back down onto his cock. Dean hissed and bit down on his lip, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you fall apart just one more time before he succumbs to the blinding pleasure he could only find with you.

“It’s too much, Dean.” You wailed but continued to roll your hips downwards like you didn’t even think of stopping. His hands clamped down on the meat of your plush thighs as you tightened impossibly around his thick cock.

“Fuck, baby. I know you’re close; just come for me. Cum, and I’ll give you what you want.” He planted his feet onto your bed and thrust upwards, hitting that one spot inside you he knew made your brain turn into TV static. “Thaaaaat’s it. That’s my girl.” He cooed as you slumped forwards, your mindless babbling only serving to spur him on even more.

You tucked your face into his neck, kissing and licking at his skin like you wanted to swallow him whole. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pounded into you even deeper. Your soft body trembled against him as you tumbled into your final orgasm of the night, your cunt fluttering around him like it was made for him.

“Dean. Cum inside me.” You managed to gasp out as you rode the last waves of your high. Dean snarled and pushed himself in as deep as he could go as the dam finally broke and he succumbed to his own end. You moaned softly at the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

Dean relaxed back down into the mattress, your body a comfortable weight on top of his, easing away the pain inside him. He ran his hand down the length of your back, coming to rest on the gentle swell of your ass. “You good sweetheart?”

A quiet giggle vibrated through your chest. “I think I saw god, I am more than good Deanie.”

He rolled his eyes as he guided you to lay down next to him, his softening cock slipping from your warm walls. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“How many times have I told you not to wear your boots in the house?” You retorted with a jab to his ribs, quickly followed by a loving kiss against his lips. His heart skipped a beat as he wrapped a strong arm around your thick waist, pressing deeper into the kiss. You let out a pleased sound that made his spent cock twitch in interest.

But all too soon, you pulled away and laid your head down on his shoulder.

It felt so domestic, so real. If he just shut his eyes he could almost imagine that this was your shared home; a place for him to just be without the worry of saving the world or protecting Sammy, that maybe he could have a lawn to mow and tedious chores that he would be happy to do for you. He wished he could wake up in this bed every day instead of once or twice in a blue moon when hunting had dried up or he needed more supplies from your shop for hunters.

“Do you remember the day we met?” His voice echoed through the small bedroom, soaking into the old wallpaper that you refused to let him replace, claiming that it was just fine the way it was.

You hummed and glanced up at him, your eyes still hazy from an entire afternoon of ‘I missed you but I’m not going to say it out loud’ sex. Dean cupped your full cheek.

“‘Course I do. You broke into my shop at 4 in the morning and I almost shot you.”

“We still need to work on that aim of yours sweetheart.” You scoffed but snuggled closer to him, the sweet smell of your skin almost getting overwhelming. Your fingers traced over the scars along his torso, never flinching away or touching them like you wished they weren’t there in the first place. You were mapping out the story of him without question or hesitation.

“Yeah well why would I need to do that if I have you here to protect me?” You said it like it was a fact, that you never doubted he would come to your rescue at a moment's notice. “I’ve got Dean Winchester in my bed, I’m the safest girl in the world.”

His breath caught but before you could notice, he gave you that smirk that got him there in the first place and drawled out a low: “Yeah you do sweetheart.” You visibly flustered, burying your face into his arm to escape the heat of his gaze. 

“You’re always so mean to me.” His laugh bounced your head up and down. You began to giggle, unable to help yourself, and slid your arm beneath his back so you could wrap your body around him. Electricity followed your touch, his nerves sparking to life like the feeling of stepping out from the darkness into the sun.

God I love her.

The thought slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the air from his lungs. He expected a sense of panic, maybe dread, but all he felt was a sense of calm that settled against his soul. Dean just pulled you tighter against him and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. You returned it with a soft peck right above his heart.

He didn’t want to run from this, not this time. You were everything to him and he wanted to stay right here, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. Your breathing evened out as you succumbed to some much-needed sleep.

Maybe staying another few days wouldn’t be so bad, Sammy kept telling him he needed a vacation.

Sam- When you were kind to him even after he broke your heart

Sam’s voice had gone hoarse over an hour ago but they still hadn’t let him out. He knew that they wouldn’t but still he had begged and pleaded, even succumbed to tears yet there was no answer from outside the heavy iron door. 

He slumped back against the cot in the centre of the room, the sharp metal scraped against his back but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt in every waking moment. The cold concrete beneath him did nothing to soothe the burning inside of him. 

“Please.” The word was barely even audible, escaping his lungs with little more than a whimper. Sam let his head fall back onto the thin mattress.

As soon as the door was slammed shut, all he felt was blinding rage. Didn’t they understand why he was doing this? The blood gave him the power they needed to help people! But when hours had passed without so much as a hint that they even heard him, the anger melted away into a sort of numbness. Dean and Bobby had tricked him into this, you had tricked him.

It was your face that he saw last as the door was shut. Your lips were pulled downwards, your eyes rimmed with red, your shoulders slumped. You had looked like you were in mourning. Guilt curled in his stomach, just like every other time he looked at you since the day he left for Stanford. But this time, the sour taste of betrayal filled his mouth like bile.

You were turning your back on him, siding with his brother when all he wanted to do was to make the world safer, for you. 

Sam forced himself to take a deep breath, even as his body screamed with the ache of movement. The air was stale and settled heavily onto his chest but he was grateful to feel it, he was grateful to feel anything besides the searing pain of his nerves. This was the first break from the hallucinations he’d had in days, or weeks, time, just like everything else, had no meaning within the iron walls that enclosed him.

The cotton of his shirt felt like it was rubbing his sensitive skin raw but to take it off meant moving and he was far too tired to withstand the pain anymore. His head turned, letting the right half of his face press into the cot. The single flat sheet on the bed smelt of the flowery laundry detergent that you always used, it made something inside of him twist sickeningly.

A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“Sam?” His eyes squeezed shut.

“Please not again. Please don’t hurt me again.” He begged with broken words. He cringed at the sound of metal scraping against concrete. He couldn’t do it again, he wouldn’t fight it. Sam was going to let the pain take him.

Soft footsteps drew closer. He braced himself for the first strike. Would it be the sharp pinch of a scalpel or the burn of a propane torch? Or would it be the voices of people he loved reminding him of just how tainted he was? How evil? 

He whimpered as they stopped right beside him. There was a beat, then two, then the gentle whoosh of air as someone kneeled down beside him. 

“Sam.” Your voice washed over him like a gentle breeze, easing the stiffness in his bones. “Sam? Can you look at me?” He wanted to say no, to yell at you to get out and leave him alone like you did when you first locked him in here but the exhaustion in your tone made him crack open one of his eyes.

You sat on your knees mere inches from him, letting him see you in stark detail. One of his flannels hung from your shoulders partially concealing the form-fitting tank top you wore beneath it. Normally, his heart would have skipped a beat seeing you wear his clothes, but now it only reminded him of why you stopped. Bruise-like dark bags marred your full cheeks, your eyes blood-shot.

“Oh Sammy. I-“ Your voice cracked. You reached for him but quickly thought better of it, your hand dropped back down to your side where there was a bucket of water now on the ground. “You know you can’t come out yet but I thought you might like to clean up a bit, maybe eat something that isn’t dried or jerkied.” 

Sam opened his other eye but made no other efforts to move. You sighed, your shoulders dropping as you sat back on your heels. “Will you let me wash your hair and change your clothes at least? I bought the softest ones I could find and even washed them in the fabric softener Dean keeps secretly buying.” Your lips quirked up, attempting some sort of reaction from him.

You looked so worn out, Sam wondered if you had sat right outside the door waiting for him to stop screaming. His head bobbed and the hardness in your gaze eased. “Thank you. I’ll be as gentle as I can, squeeze my leg if you want me to stop.”

He bit back a whimper as you guided him to the floor. His broad shoulders rested across your plump thighs, letting his head hang above the floor. You kept one hand beneath his neck, taking far more of his weight than he would be willing to admit, and reached for the small plastic cup floating at the top of the bucket. 

His fingers curled around your knee, his short nails digging into the denim as you poured a cup full of hot water over the crown of his head. You paused for a moment but continued when Sam loosened his grip. 

As you placed the cup to the side and retrieved a small bottle of fragrance-free shampoo, he let his eyes shut once more, this time, his mind wandering to the last time the two of you had spoken.

It had been in the days after Dean died. You refused to break down in the face of losing your best friend, the man that taught you to drive, to throw a proper punch. You wanted to stay strong for Sam and for Bobby but Sam knew it wouldn’t last long. 

You had been slowly, methodically cleaning Baby, just like Dean taught you to when the younger Winchester approached you with a bowed head and a duffle bag on his shoulder. Just like the day he left for college.

You didn’t wait for his excuses.

“You’re leaving?” You said but it didn’t sound like you, not really. Sam didn’t answer and you scoffed, throwing the sponge you’d been using onto the dusty driveway. “Just like that, running off days after-“ Your breath caught but you swallowed down your tears, “What are you planning, Sam? You know selling your soul won’t work, we’ve already tried that.”

Sam huffed and pulled the strap of the bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ve got a friend who might know a way to get him back.”

He should’ve seen the way your back straightened as your body went stiff. “A ‘friend’?”

“She knows a lot about hell and right now I’ll try anything to bring him back.” And then he did something truly stupid. “Unlike you.” 

Silence crashed down around you like a falling building, immediately filling the air with a tension so thick Sam could almost choke on it. He watched your shoulders draw up, your hackles raised before your chest expanded fully and you exhaled through your nose.

“Then I won’t stop you. I trust you Sam but I don’t trust Ruby and I won’t be around forever to fix up your messes, not anymore. I’m worth a hell of a lot more than just being the girl you always leave behind but keep running back to.” You fished Baby’s keys from your front pocket, tossing them at Sam as you passed.

“Ruby’s dead.”

“Is she?” You shot him a look before opening Bobby’s front door. “Don’t get yourself killed. Lose my number.” The door slammed behind you and suddenly Sam felt like he was making the wrong decision, again.

You ran a hand through his hair, letting the shampoo run through your fingers as you carefully washed it away with the lukewarm water and with it, you washed away his pain. He turned his head into your hand, soaking up every ounce of touch you were willing to give him. It’d been so long since he had felt anything other than lust or hurt pressed to his body. 

You refused to meet his gaze, not that he could blame you after everything he had done, but he wanted so badly to look into those perfect e/c’s even just one more time. To feel that peace and acceptance that had always swirled within the deep colour of your irises. 

Suddenly, all Sam wanted to do was curl up in your lap and cry. He’d spent so many years taking your warmth for granted and now, after months of being denied even a sliver of your presence, he couldn’t imagine ever being away from you again. He wanted to prove to you that you were worth staying for, you were worth everything to him, but all he could do was let you care for him with hesitant hands.

He loved you, he always had, even when he was trying to run away from his life, even as he fell in love with someone else. It was you that kept him from falling into that well of darkness that would be so easy to slip into. You with your sass and your gentleness, your softness and your bite, your laughter and your grief. He loved you.

But how could you ever love him back?

Castiel- When you made him remember why he loved humanity in the first place

It was the sound of crying that drew Castiel to the playground across the street from the motel you had been camped out at. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sound to the angel given his age and how many prayers he’d heard throughout his existence, but the pitch was so high, so truly filled with fear that he didn’t hesitate to follow it.

“Angel? Where are you going?” He glanced back at you as you were pulling on your boots.

“There’s crying.” He said simply before descending the concrete steps to the ground floor. You let out a noise like a scoff and scrambled after him, barely grabbing the room key and your hunting knife before the heavy door slammed shut.

“Cas!” His pace didn’t falter as the crying picked up in intensity but he was confident you were following close behind him. His blue eyes flicked over the colourful plastic structures, expecting some siren or ghost to pop out at him. The weight of the angle blade against his forearm and your steady footsteps behind him reminded Castiel that he would not fight this battle alone.

He slowly rounded the bright yellow twisty slide just as you skidded to a halt a step behind him. Thankfully, you remained silent, a palm pressed to his back to remind him that you had him covered. The crying was louder now, though it did not sound like it was from any creature he had encountered before. 

There was a shadow at the edge of the monkey bars. Castiel’s blade dropped silently from his sleeve, sliding perfectly into his grip. He took a single stride forwards, ready to attack before it could when your fingers suddenly snagged the back of his trenchcoat.

“It’s a kid.” You breathed, he imagined it was out of relief but your human emotions always confused him. You slid the knife into the sheath you kept at the small of your back, tugging down your shirt so it was completely hidden as you cautiously approached the small figure curled up in the wood chips.

“Hi sweetie, are you ok?” Your voice dripped with sweetness, like he remembered syrup to taste like. You leaned forwards, your shoulders dropped as low as they could go.

The crying stopped but small hiccups still echoed through the maze of playground structures. The sun had been steadily setting and now sat just above the horizon, the darkness creeping in. 

Castiel watched closely as you squatted a foot away from the child, a soft smile on your face. “Are you lost?” The child finally looked up, their eyes wide and sparkling with tears in the low light of the evening. They nodded.

“Can we help you find your parents?” Their nodding got quicker and they reached out their arms to you. Your smile grew wider as you stood up, easily pulling them up and resting them on your wide hip. You turned back to face Castiel, a hand rubbing up and down the child’s back.

They must’ve been only 4 or 5 and wearing an outfit that was far from appropriate for the dropping temperature. “We’re going to go to the police station, I bet your parents are waiting there for you.” They looked up at you, still silent, but now clinging to your t-shirt in a way that made Castiel’s heart inexplicably skip a beat.

“This is my friend Cas,” You leaned closer to their little ear and loudly whispered the next part, “He’s an angel.” The child’s eyes widened and their head snapped around to look at him. Cas stepped closer, the child didn’t flinch.

“I am and so is she, that’s how she was able to find you.” He could almost feel the heat from your cheeks even feet away but still the child seemed convinced. 

“Really?” You hiked them up higher on your hip, your arm wrapping tighter around their little body to keep them warm.

“Really really. Now why don’t we get you back home?” They rested their head beneath your jaw and nodded, snuggling closer to your soft body. 

Cas dutifully followed you as you walked out of the park, watching the child bounce with each of your steps. You chattered away about things you were seeing around the street, your voice filling the silence like a white noise machine. Cas could feel the calmness radiating from the child and it warmed something long forgotten inside of him.

You had no duty to this child, nor any other person that you saved and he knew that you would receive no thanks for your actions but yet you still did them. You threw yourself into harm’s way to protect complete strangers from things they could not possibly understand. You had once confided in the angel that you had been pressured into hunting but you had stopped trying to run away from it long ago.

He’d felt anger for you, just the same as he felt for the Winchesters and all the other unfortunate children who never had a choice. He felt angry for himself, at humanity.

But seeing you now, caring for this child like they were your own, Castiel understood why you stayed. You didn’t do it for the glory of saying you saved the world, nor for some duty bestowed to you by your parents, it was because you cared and because you knew what evil was. 

The near empty streets soon gave way to rows of shops and townhouses, leading directly to the lit up police station only a few blocks away. The child started to fidget against you as they began to recognise their surroundings, making you laugh quietly. “I know sweetie! We’re almost there. You’re so close.”

You came to a stop right at the entrance. “You can go right in and tell them your name and that you were lost.” They nodded dutifully while you carefully lowered them to their feet. “Ok sweetie, you were so brave today but make sure you stay with your parents next time.” You ran a hand over their head and stod to your full height.

They looked at you and Castiel before gracing you with a toothy grin. “Thank you nice angels!” Then they threw open the glass door and rushed inside just as two grown ups turned the corner behind the reception desk. They fell to their knees, catching the little one in their arms.

Something warm brushed the side of his hand, making Castiel tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. You took his hand into your own, your eyes shimmering with tears. You didn’t say anything and he found that no words were needed.

Tomorrow, he would tell you how incredible you were, that you were what angels should be and that he was feeling something for you that he never thought he could ever experience. But for right now, he wanted to watch this child reunite with the people that loved them most while the chill of the night and the monsters in it were kept at bay by the brilliance of your soul.

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[purple-goo-writes]

Sooo been listening Mr. Creeps Park Ranger stories on YouTube and welll...

What if Danny became a park ranger in one of the national parks in Illinois near Amity? Could be a real National part or one made up.

After all he can't be an astronaut and maybe Sam dragging him to conservation rallies an other stuff influenced him. Sure he likes Tinkering and has a few patents like his parents do, but he loved the stars more and being able to see the clear stars from the Fire Watch Tower helped.

Plus all the weird and supernatural things that happen there, well Danny is as supernatural as one can get and at least it isn't a squishy human having to deal with something like a wendigo or rapid bear. Some things he can bargain or reason with, though others he had to either detour others from that area or sometimes Deal with himself.

(Sometimes he was glad he was already half dead and could heal, after reattached an arm. Looks like he had to add new rules to the book to teach the newbies)

So he has been at this for a few decades now, officially "retired" from hero work but not from dealing with the supernatural. By now he knew how to deal with the fae that made their home in the Grove near by, how to avoid certain entities or bargain with others or thr steps you needed to take to avoid confrontation, knew how to detour hikers and campers from the more blood thirsty residents of the Park and rescue those unlucky enough to lose their way from the trails.

Sadly he couldn't always save those who got lost, especially if they weren't near his tower when they went missing. But he tried his best.

He also had to deal with his fair share of Paranormal/Supernatural/Cryptid Hunters, groups of teens and young adults (sometimes older adults too) eager to find anything strange for clout. But most only found death if not careful. He had to rescue many from the more Ravenous residents. It was never fun for all parties involved and just annoying for Danny.

But his years of experience were going to be put to the test when dealing with this group of amateur hunters all nearly identical with their black hair and blue eyes (though only two didn't share this the youngest and the black teen who looked like he wished his siblings hadn't dragged him with them) who were there with a tired man Danny's age who shared their hair ad eye color. The Waynes (why did that sound familiar? He didn't leave the forest much, so didn't kep up with media) apparently were going on a small vacation/Camping trip and the eldest heard about all the cryptid and supernatural stories and wanted to check it out.

Danny could already tell he was going to have to fish one or two of them out of the golute of one of the beasties in the deeper parts of the Forest.

[vendettasfanfictioning]

you can't convince me dean wasn't already in love with castiel by s11 like. what do you mean on the episode where dean is hung up, nay, borderline desperate to find a way to get castiel back, the case they land just so happens to be handled by a hunter couple (a romantic! mlm! couple!!!!!)

dean dead ass asks them how it's like to settle down with these big green eyes just so full of longing and understanding.

LIKE TELL ME THIS ISN'T HOW DEAN STARES AT CAS !!!!!!!

and this ending, don't even get me started on this ending

THEY GET TO RETIRE!!!! THIS IS DEAN FINALLY SEEING A HAPPY ENDING FOR HUNTERS!!!!! THIS IS DEAN REALIZING AND ACCEPTING THAT IT'S POSSIBLE!!!!!!

they got me in the first half, not gonna lie, with jesse's "they killed my brother" revenge story and cesar's ride-or-die support but then. this sealed the deal.

horses???? hello mr. dean cowboy fetish winchester????? and emt???? when castiel's a whole ass healer mage with his angel mojo???? TELL ME I'M NOT DELUSIONAL

The narrative is giving, "see? this can happen. happiness does exist in this universe, but only from a far enough distance that dean and sam can yearn for it without really getting it."

[casdeans-pie]

If I could pitch season 16 of Supernatural:

Dean wakes up and it turns out that everything from 15x18 was an Empty Nightmare because he actually grabbed Cas just before he got taken, so got pulled in too.

Sam and Jack have been trying to get them both out for 5 years.

Jack still got the God Powers but he's whimsical with them and retains his personality. He wants to try and preserve human free will. But also helps in small ways where he can. (and still pops into the bunker for a bowl of cereal from time to time)

Sam is the 'new Bobby' in the MOL bunker - sending out hunters and knowing all the lore about all the monsters. (Also he practices witchcraft on the side)

No blurry wife - Sam and Eileen are engaged - and no Dean Jr. But! they are considering having a kid soon. And! They can get married now that Dean and Cas are back!

Dean and Cas heartfelt reunion!!! Clinging hug!!!! Never let me go again!!!! We're not talking about the confession but we both want to!!!!! etc etc

Cas is still an angel and Jack offers to make him an archangel !! Cas feels like he should say yes out of obligation (even if he doesn't want to leave) but Dean actually FINALLY asks him. to stay? (Cas immediately declines Jack's offer)

Dean struggles with the memories of his Empty Nightmare. (It was just SO bad. But also he tries to describe Old Man Sam and his bad hair and that cheers him up.)

The original Death is back because he never really died, he just didn't want to be involved in all the Winchester shenanigans. But he's back now that all the world-ending chaos is over. (Tessa is also back as his second-in-command)

Billie is the new ruler over the Empty, and it's a place of eternal rest now. Very peaceful. Meg is there and she's having a great time relaxing.

Crowley comes back as a human for a second chance. He's still kind of an ass but he's lovable with it.

Lots of reunions and cameos. It's magic you can bring all sorts of characters back to life - a lot of them died unfairly in the first place. Bring them all back!

Dean! and! Cas! Kiss!

I want all the genres of kiss. Confused. Desperate. Relieved. Passionate. Tender.

The season is all very character focused and character driven and ties up any loose ends the show had left.

The drama comes from internal character struggles and with Dean and Cas figuring out where they fit into this 5 years on world now. (The answer is together doing whatever they want to and Dean comes to the realisation he wants to retire, but he struggles with reconciling that he wants to retire and Sam doesn't and they have to go on different paths now).

The series ends with the big Sam/Eileen wedding and it's just a huge party and gathering of all the cameos you can possibly think of. Friends, family, frenemies, some beloved characters who only appeared in one episode... they're all there.

Dean proposes to Cas by taking the loop from Baby's keys out of his pocket and getting down on one knee and using it like a ring stand-in (it's way too big but it's symbolic and cheesy and sweet and it doesn't matter)

Of course he says yes.

The end.

[calibrationneeded]

Some close ups of x because the quality got shot in the foot