#small child: exists. dean: immediately connects with him

[bideanwinchestertruther]

OK but I need someone to talk about how gentle Dean was with Lucas (S01303, Dead in the Water) (how well he interacts with kids in general but this is the first interaction we get and it's so good).

This is a kid that's seemingly traumatized by watching his dad drown, a kid who's been nonverbal for a bit now, who draws and appears to ignore everyone around him.

And Dean thinks he might know something, but he doesn't try to make him talk, he doesn't get angry or impatient, he just tries to connect with him. The first thing he does is try to relate to Lucas via something he likes (first the toy soldiers, then coloring, "mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?" and sits in silence with him, and "This is my family" for a drawing of stick figures, mom, dad, Sam and him)

He doesn't push for Lucas to talk, he's constantly asking him to communicate with him however Lucas wants to ("Maybe you can nod yes or no for me")

Even when the case is seemingly closed, Dean is really worried about him ("Lucas was really scared.", "I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."). I just... We talk a lot about Ben (and we're right to do so), but every interaction Dean's had with a child is just so good.

[norahastuff]

Oh boy, we’re getting right back into it I see. The episode starts on Earth 2 with us learning that Hillary Clinton is campaigning for her second term and things seem to be ok in this particular world...right before Chuck makes his appearance and we quickly learn that isn’t going to last.

There was a lot going on in this episode but I’m going to focus mainly on my favourite character on this show: Free Will. 

After finding a captive audience to monologue to, Chuck shows him all the different worlds where the story played out the way he wanted it to. In all of them it’s just Sam and Dean. Always just Sam and Dean. And then he points to our earth. The one where the story’s not playing out the way he wants it to, and yet that’s also the very reason he’s fascinated by this one earth. 

He is literally pointing at Dean and Cas. The shot focuses on Dean and Cas for a lot of the scene and yet Chuck still doesn’t mention Cas’ name or even acknowledge that he’s there. He still keeps talking about Sam and Dean. 

Chuck has very deliberately been leaving Cas out of the story all season. Becky’s note on his draft ���No one even mentions Cas.” I mean this pretty much goes all the way back 4x22 when Chuck told them that Cas rebelling was not part of the story. For a time it seemed like Chuck had come around on Cas and how he played an integral role in this story, but at some point, I think probably s11 or maybe after Cas placed all of his faith in the Nephilim who could bring about his destruction, he changed his mind about that. After all he opted not to bring Cas back after 12x23, even when Dean broke down and begged him to. 

Cas isn’t fated to play a role in any part of this story. God doesn’t want him there, and as we learn from Billy, Sam, Dean and Jack all have an important part to play in bringing about Chuck’s demise - at least according to her books. Not Cas though. He very conspicuously has not been given a role in anyone’s version of an “Endgame.”

Dean and Cas’ whiskey fuelled conversation was also quite revelatory. 

Cas is uncharacteristically happy...which I’m not really going to say much about because I honestly can’t tell if the show still plans on addressing that dangling plot thread, so I’m going to hold off on mentioning anything about it right now. Anyway the point is, Cas feels vindicated. 

I knew it Dean. When I was with Jack’s mother, she...you know Kelly just had faith that Jack would be good for the world, and I felt it too - I knew it! And then when everything went wrong and God took him from us, I-I was lost in a way I’ve never been before, because I knew the story wasn’t over, I knew Jack wasn’t done. And I was right.

That brings me back to what both Dean and Cas had to say about Jack and his importance back in s12. 

12x19

Cas: Thank you for coming to fight for us. 

Dean: Are you ok?

Cas: I am. I've been so lost. I'm not lost anymore. And I know now that this child must be born with all of his power.

12x23

Cas: You don't have to worry. The child, he opened this door. He'll close it.

Dean: You sure about that?

Cas: I have faith. 

Dean: Really? In your unborn baby-God?

Cas: Yes.

Dean: Well then you’re a dumbass. 

There are a lot of interesting things going on here. Without a purpose and role, Cas has always felt lost. Finding Jack meant finding a role to play, knowing that Jack needed him and that he could help him, made Cas feel like he belonged. Cas feels that his place in the Winchester family is so tentative, which explains why he clings so tightly to being useful. With Jack he’s useful. Of course he loves Jack with all his being too, but Jack also needs him. 

There's also the not so small issue of Dean and Cas' big fight this season. One of the things Dean said to him was the very thing that Cas has been afraid of for so long. That he messes up everything he touches. That he keeps on failing. Dean and Cas may have forgiven each other and patched things up, but that doesn't mean that Cas doesn't still think that what Dean said had some truth behind it. It's what he's been thinking about himself for so long anyway.

Thinking he finally got something right, that he made the right decision when it seemed to everyone else like he was messing up...I think Cas the way Cas feels can only be summed up by this Raymond Holt gif

And that’s all well and good Cas and I’m glad you’re having a moment of feeling good about yourself, but the thing is Cas is still only seeing his self worth as existing when he’s in service to others. He’s not putting his own wellbeing first, second, or really anywhere in his priorities. If that Connect 4 game is prescient of anything, it seems Cas is still more than willing to sacrifice himself in order to let those who he thinks is worthy, those who have been singled out by the cosmic beings, win the game.

Cas is forgetting the most important thing. It doesn’t matter what the Cosmic Beings want. They don’t care about the people. That’s the biggest difference between our heroes and the Higher Powers, they always put the people first. They’re all that matters. Kaia mattered. They all do. Chuck doesn’t get that, and Billie doesn’t either. Like she said she’s in service to the bigger picture. And if we want to talk about the number one rule of Winchester stupidity, it’s always putting the seemingly inconsequential humans first, regardless of the bigger picture. 

I don’t know exactly where Cas’ story is leading, but something tells me he, (actually all of tfw really) is going to get a refresher in the importance of free will and not putting all your faith in what’s supposedly already been decided. Whether that lesson’s going to be a painful one...well you’re watching Supernatural after all. Let’s hang on for the rest of this ride. Here’s hoping there’s peace when we’re done.

(Ok sorry about that last line. Turns out my dad joke impulses are stronger than I am!)

Ooh also one last thing, they’ve repeatedly emphasising how much “I’m fine” actually means the opposite for a while now, but to go from Chuck saying “everything’s fine” to him immediately sending meteors to blow up a universe? Well if anyone missed the memo, they’ve got it now!

[percywinchester27]

About a boy (Part-10)

Word count: 3.5K

Warning: Suspense, feels, physical abuse, child-trafficking and bullying

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: Hey, look! I wrote a part that is not a cliffhanger! Who would have thought? All the love to my babes @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story <3

About a boy masterlist

It was a hot afternoon. Everything that moved and breathed in the boys home was either sweating or stinking or both. The game room especially was oozing of unnecessary enthusiasm over dumb games. Cas wanted to ask the ten year olds playing throw-ball in front of him to shut up.

He didn’t do it though, because deep down he knew that it wasn’t the kids he was mad at. If it had been any ordinary day on a Sunday afternoon, he would be right here with Dean going rounds at table tennis. He’d be as breathless and sweaty as everyone else. Instead, he was holed up in a corner here, giving a stink eye to people for no fault of theirs. No, he wasn’t mad at them. He was mad at Dean… and then feeling guilty about feeling that way.

Dean deserved the time off. Afterall he had found out that by looking at the records, he might never find his brother, because the name might have been changed. Cas had tried to console him that maybe they should still continue looking at the files. What if the name hadn’t been changed? Maybe Sam’s file- labelled as Sam- was still out there somewhere. But even Cas knew that was half hearted, because if there really had been a Sam, Will would have found him. They weren’t just looking for a needle in a stack of needles now. They were looking for a goddamn particle.

It had been a whole week since that night and Dean had refused to talk to anyone. It didn’t help that the school was shut for spring break. This way he wasn’t obligated to spend the classes with Cas. During the first couple of days, Dean had resorted to lying in bed and not speaking with anyone. Afterwards, he’d just disappear in the morning after breakfast to some corner of the estate and then return directly late at night, avoiding Cas at all times.

At first, Cas gave him his space, disheartened himself about the possibility of never finding Sam, but after a week of this, Dean’s behaviour was starting to get on his nerves. 

“Cas?”

The quiet and now familiar voice made Cas look up. Will was standing before him, eyes trained down, shuffling from toe to toe.

“Will!”

A small surge of pity went through Cas at the site of the boy. Despite Dean’s aloofness, Will hadn’t given up on the search. He was still on a lookout for Sam, he still picked the locks to look in the record room whenever he could. And in all of this, he was the only one who understood how hurt Cas was feeling.

“How’s Dean doing?” Will asked, still looking down.

“The same,” Cas replied. “Refuses to see anyone.”

“Hmmm…” Will nodded to himself. He looked like his head was someplace else. And his eyes were unfocused, not in the way that his head was a million miles away. They looked blank.

“Will, are you okay?” Cas asked cautiously. “You look… off….”

Will didn’t answer immediately. “Hhhuh?” He stuttered, head jerking up for the first time.

“I asked if you were okay,” Cas repeated patiently. A strange feeling was creeping up in his stomach, like a premonition of something bad.

“I-I’m okay,” Will said in a monotone. “I cleared the Olympiad.”

“Will, this is great news!” Cas burst out, his lips stretching into a smile. “You’re such a smart kid!”

Will said nothing. He was looking out of the window now, and Cas vehemently tried to suppress the icky feeling in his gut. 

Finally, Will turned to meet Cas’ eyes for the first time with some solidity to expression and tone. “If you get hold of Dean, tell him I want… no, tell him I need to talk to him.” 

“Okay,” Cas agreed quickly, hoping Will would say something more.

But Will was already walking away. “I’m gonna go now,” he said. “I have to find Barry.”

Cas sighed and slumped back. Poor Will, he thought. That kid had been trying to catch hold of Dean for a while now. He’d gone from worried to eager to this. However, behind Will’s odd blankness, Cas could feel a brewing desperation… the sort that came with fear. Will was scared of something, and as far as Cas could tell, it seemed to be something entirely new. It has scared Will enough to want to seek out the boy he looked up to… to seek out Dean.

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

Dean was sitting by the window of his empty dorm room, turning an apple over and over in his hand. He had sneaked it out at breakfast. Even though he had skipped lunch and was feeling the hunger pangs, he didn’t really want to eat anything.

Afternoons were the best to be holed up in the dorm sometimes. It was always empty then, his other three inmates involved in something or the other. It made sulking alone easier.

There was a slight shuffle and Dean could see Benny slide into his top bunk in his peripheral vision. Dean ignored him; and with how quiet Benny was, it was easy to pretend he wasn’t even there. That was until Benny spoke.

“Should have known you didn’t have it in you.”

Dean’s head turned like a whip. “What did you say?”

Benny snorted, looking into a book he had somehow managed to open in the short span. “I said,” he repeated, “I should have known you were a wimp. That you couldn’t do jack squat when it came to exposing the Stynes.”

Anger welled up inside Dean, as sudden as a volcano. “How dare you judge me when you don’t know shit!”

Benny remained unmoved, and his voice remained calm when he said, “Oh, I know enough. I know you had the epic realisation that your brother’s name might be changed on the papers. So what?”

“So what?” Dean growed. Was this guy evening listening to himself? Sam’s name was the only lead Dean had. Nothing else. Finding Sam was his goal, his only hope. What did Benny know of his hopelessness?

“I have lost every chance of finding my brother now,” Dean said slowly, his voice seething. “You have no clue how that feels.”

Benny looked down at him in disdain. “How much do you remember of this so-called brother of yours, Winchester? His hair color, his smile? You must barely even remember holding him, do you? And I? I knew Jaime for years. We grew up together, shared every scratch and every smile. When I was sick with pneumonia as a kid, he was there with me, staying up all night. He was more than a blood brother to me. So don’t you tell me I don’t know how it feels. And I did more to find Jaime than what you’re doing. I didn’t give up at the first obstacle and shut myself in a room, throwing a tantrum like a baby.”

“That’s enough!” said a sharp voice.

Dean turned to see Cas standing at the door, his finger clutching the edge of the door tightly. Tight enough that his knuckles were white.

“That’s enough, Benny!” Cas warned. “You don’t need to be this harsh with him!”

“Harsh?” Benny scoffed. “He’s a domestic kid, raised in a home, Castiel! He doesn’t know harsh. You know what’s harsh? What is happening to those poor bastards getting kidnapped out there. Sold, hurt… God knows what even happens to them! Your friend here has all the resources he needs to expose these fiends for what they are, and here he is acting like a wuss when one thing goes against his mighty plan.”

“Benny…” Cas looked thunderstruck, and Dean had gone completely white, his hands shaking at his sides.

Benny looked at Dean. “I really thought you were what this place needed. You’re smart and focused, and I thought you had the courage. But turns out you’re just too damn self-centered and selfish. Look around you, Winchester, the world is so much bigger than you and your long-lost brother. And honestly, you are not even helping that poor kid by giving up so easily-”

“Benny, SHUT UP!” Cas thundered. “Don’t say another word. Who the hell do you think you are going up against Dean like this? He isn’t at your beck and call to do as you please! Just because you couldn’t save Jaime, doesn’t mean it’s Dean’s job to save the world. Besides, he’s just a kid. Like you and me and Jaime. One word gets out about him being the police’s spy, they’d bury him and his records so underground that no one would even find his existence. Police support be damned.”

Cas took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Jody is just one cop who suspects that something is amiss. Not even her whole department trusts her and the Stynes are powerful people. Besides, Dean has a juvenile record. How hard would it be to frame a runway case against him and then they’d make him disappear just like Jaime. Is that what you want? For him to keep going at it recklessly and then go missing forever?”

“I- “Benny’s eyes widened. All of his calm was gone, replaced by shock and horror.

“He’s not your pawn, Benny,” Cas said, sounding tired. “You can’t push all your anger and disappointment on him.”

“Cas,” Dean said, finally. His legs felt weak, and his heart felt heavy with shame. “Benny’s not wrong. I have been-”

The door sprang open and Gabriel came in. Looking around, he stopped at the sudden forced silence.

“Phew,” he whistled, plopping down on his bed. “Y’all look like you saw a ghost.”

He wasn’t wrong, Benny looked appalled and Cas looked vexed. As for Dean, he didn’t know what his face showed, but inside he felt so small and contrite he didn’t know how to face anyone. He had been so self absorbed the past week, fuming and wallowing in self pity, he had actually overlooked how it was affecting others.

“C’mon chaps,” Gabriel smirked, “What were you talking about?You don’t want to keep it from your best buddy here!” He winked.

Cas stepped forward. “You know what, Gabriel? You can shut it. This is none of your business and it shouldn’t concern you!”

Dean squinted at his friend. He had never seen Cas this mad. He was usually the most level headed person in the room, but today he was having none of it, and the way Cas had stood up for Dean made him feel even smaller.

“Whoa!” Gabe sat up. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, Cassy?”

“Let me think,” Cas said, eyes steely blue. “It might be the fact that you’re  a selfish jackass who thinks only of himself.”

All traces of humour vanished from Gabriel’s face, and his eyes took on a dangerous look that screamed not to mess with him. “Be careful there, little bro. I know you three have been up to something… and you don’t wanna get on my bad side.”

Cas’s eyes narrowed further. “Actually that is rather hard, considering we don’t even know which side you’re on. There is only one side with you, Gabe. Your own. If you actually wanted people to trust you with things, you better decide where your loyalties lie.”

Gabriel pursed his lips, expression full of anger. For a second Dean thought he was going to reach out and hit Cas. But the moment passed and Gabriel hurtled out of the room like a whirlwind.

“Guess there isn’t much left for me to say anymore, is there?” Cas asked bitterly, then went out of the room himself.

Dean could only imagine how Cas must be feeling. He was a gentle soul. Having said so many grating words must have hurt him as much as it hurt the others. Gabriel was his brother and Benny his friend. Cas had still gone out of his way to take Dean’s side against his own people. That too when Dean had been a jerk to Cas, himself.

He spared Benny- who still looked out of his element- a brief glance then followed Cas out of the dorm room himself.

Cas stood at the far end of the corridor, staring out of the window into the sunset. 

“What do you want, Dean?” he asked, still sounding tired, but his tone was sharp. Not his usual kind voice.

“I-I wanted to say sorry,” Dean said. “I know I’ve been an idiot and a jerk to you all of the past week. Drawing into myself like that was selfish and childish- Benny wasn’t wrong there. I’m just sorry!” He looked down, fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to kick the wall.

“It’s alright,” said Cas, and the tone made Dean look up. Cas was looking at him with a curious set to his mouth, eyes narrowed but in mirth. The way a parent would look at a child they had forgiven, but were curiously hunting for a motive behind the said mischief.

While Dean was at it, he apologised for one more thing, “I’m sorry you took up a fight against Benny and Gabriel for me.”

Cas shrugged. “They had it coming. Both of them.” He paused, then asked. “What’re you going to do now?”

Dean set his shoulders. “I’m gonna keep looking for Sam and check the records about the Stynes. See what they are really up to.”

“Alright.”

“So I’m forgiven?” Dean asked tentatively.

Cas smiled, then nodded. “While you’re at it, you should also apologise to Will.”

“Will?” 

Cas’s face clouded over. “Something is up with him. He was doing your research even after you’d given up, Dean, but I am worried for him. Something is bothering him.”

Dean felt a stab of guilt. That kid! Everytime Dean thought of him he felt a pang that he couldn’t quite place. Like he wanted to reach out and stake a claim. Even in the last week, he had missed talking to Will, missed being followed with those eager eyes.

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

Dean waited until it was past midnight. All was quiet in the room. Both Benny and Gabe were asleep with their faces to the wall. Cas was up, but he only offered Dean a knowing smile as Dean set out into the night. 

Earlier, he had caught hold of Barry and asked him about Will, but the bespectacled kid had squeaked two words about the Library and then ran off, like he was scared of talking to anyone who wasn’t Will. Dean had looked into the decrepit room that was the library, but either Will wasn’t there or he was really good at hiding. Disappointed, Dean had made his way back to the 5th floor.

Will had tried. He had tried to follow Dean, tried to console him, and then distract him by prattling about his day, but Dean had ignored all of it. On the second day, he’d almost slammed the door to be by himself. Thinking back now, he felt ashamed that he had let his thoughts get better of him like this and pushed his friends away. And now if Will had been in trouble all this while…

Dean slumped down against the dividing grill, hoping to get away from his thoughts now. 

Someone sharply drew breath on the other side.

“Will?” Dean whispered. “Is that you?”

There was no reply.

Dean gulped. Either Will was really angry or really upset. Neither was good.

“Look,” Dean said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have behaved the way I did. It was cruel and just… not me…”

As far as apologies went, that was going really sucky and Will wasn’t even retaliating.

“C’mon, man!” Dean pleaded. “Talk to me.”

“I topped the Olympiad,” Will said in a rush, as if his head had been forced under water and had been allowed to breathe only now.

That wasn’t what Dean had expected. “That’s great news! Congratulations!” he sputtered anyway.

His exuberant words echoed in the silence against the backdrop of Will’s uneasy quiet.

“This is good, right?” Dean asked uncertainty

“Dean!” Will said urgently, “There was a couple who came here two days ago. They want to adopt me.”

The words just hung in the darkness. Whatever Dean was ready to say to console Will, died in his throat.

“Their names are Mr. and Mrs. Kensington, from uptown New York,” Will said. “They were in the organising committee for the Olympiad. My results impressed them and they came looking for me. They said they’d take me away from this… this place and help me into a new school for gifted students. Mrs. Kensington…. She said I was a prodigy. And she… she kissed me on my forehead as she was leaving.”

Will was going to be adopted. 

Dean was stunned. He knew he should be saying something… congratulating Will. From what he knew, it was a big deal to be adopted and damn near impossible for anyone over 7 years to even stand a chance… and here was this glorious opportunity for Will to achieve everything he possibly could. He’d have the finest education. He’d have a new family to look after him, to take care of him. 

But he would also be gone.

“Well, man, that’s bloody brilliant!” Dean managed, even though his own voice sounded bogusly cheerful. 

“Is it?” Will asked, finally his voice betraying emotion. “Is it really, Dean?”

“Of course!

“They would have never even known I existed if it wasn’t for a math quiz!” Will said forcefully.

Dean shook his head, swallowing the irrational sense of dread he was feeling. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, Will? You’ve always worked so hard so you could get somewhere in life. This is your golden ticket.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Will said in a small voice. 

Dean peered, trying to make out Will’s shape through the grill. If what he guessed was right, Will was also trying to do the same thing.

“Tell me something, and go with your gut here,” Dean said, “Did they feel like bad people?”

In the darkness, Will shook his head. “They seemed decent. Really interested in me… and nervous about what I had to say. I was so scared when Andy told me there was a couple coming to see me. I wanted to talk to you, but-”

“I was busy being an asshat,” Dean completed. He vividly remembered Will ambling up to him after one dinner and him having rushed away quickly.

It was like Dean’s heart was sinking through his stomach when Dean said it. “I think you should go, Will. It will be for the best.” 

Then why was Dean starting to feel so hollow inside?

Will hummed softly, and Dean felt that pang again. He was going to be miserable when Will left. That was always going to be the case though. Dean wasn’t here permanently; he had a family back home waiting for him. He would be parted from Will one way or another. 

 “What about Sam then?” Will asked, voice still soft.

“I’ll keep looking,” Dean vowed, more to himself than to Will. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Will sighed wistfully. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but the silence continued.

Dean gulped. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Will jerked up. “What?”

It felt like admitting to a sin, but after what Benny had said, Dean had to confess it. “I don’t really remember what Sam looks like,” Dean said. “I stay awake at night looking at the walls, trying to remember something… anything. It makes me feel like I don’t even deserve to find him. What if I find him and he isn’t what I imagined him to be. What if he’s a bully, or bitter? What if he hates me?”

“Hey! Don’t say that!” Will admonished. He sounded a bit mad which was surprising given that he was so meek just a few moments ago. It startled Dean.

Will got on his knees. His hands gripped both sides of the rail, the right one directly resting over Deans.

“You can’t think like that, Dean,” Sam said vehemently. “You have no clue how lucky Sam is that his big brother is out here looking for him. That too, a big brother like you!” His voice quivered. “I wish I was as lucky as Sam,”

Dean let go of the grill and placed his hand over Will’s. There wasn’t anything he could say to that, much less what he was actually thinking. Because there was one other thing that Dean had wanted to confess to Will, and had not- that, by some miracle if Dean actually found Sam, a small, horrible part of him was scared that he would go looking for all those little features of Will in Sam. The intelligence in his eyes, innocence of his smile and the kindness of his words. He would look for all of it… and he wouldn’t find it. Because no one else could replace Will, not even Sam. 

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

A/N 2: What do you guys think about Will getting adopted? Good for him, yeah?

If you wanna be tagged, please send me an ask

About a Boy taglist:

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[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Fallout of Darkness -- Another Meme

I unfortunately don’t recall where I got this one, though I do remember picking it up in the #fallout 4 tag -- I think a number of people were using it for their Sole Survivors. Which is what I did! With the added twist of “let me do this universe’s Alice as well!” So you get double the information for the same price! :P

Note: This is vaguely set I’d say about halfway through the plot of Fallout 4 -- Victor and Alice have had the run-in with Ug-Qualtoth and gotten Alice sunlight immunity (see this post for more details), and they’ve met at least most of the other companions. Also yes, pets -- Victor does indeed adopt the “wounded dog” encounter in my verse! (And if anyone knows of a mod that lets you send her to a settlement for real. . .) Please remember I haven’t actually played much of the main plot myself, so things may be a little vague/prone to changing once I get further in!

name ➔

V: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort – my mother wanted me to have an "aristocratic" middle name, for some reason.

A: Alice Pleasance Liddell – yes, just like the historical Alice. I guess after Lizzie decided I should be "Alice," my parents decided to go whole hog with the reference.

are you single ➔

V: [with a warm look at Alice] No, I'm not.

A: [with a warm look back] Not anymore.

are you happy ➔

V: [still with that warm look at Alice] Very much so.

A: [smiling] A lot happier than I was in the past, that's for sure. Which is kind of sad, given it's post the nuclear apocalypse now. . .

are you angry ➔

V: [thoughtful] I – I was for a while. Not so much anymore – the worst of it has cooled. But – there's some things I think I'll always be angry about.

A: I think my answer's about the same. Given some of the nonsense we've been through, some low-level anger is just to be expected, honestly.

are your parents still married ➔

V: . . .they were when the bombs dropped.

A: Mine were when that bastard Bumby set our house on fire to cover up what he'd done to my sister.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔

V: Burtonsville – it's a tiny village in England. I don't actually remember it, though – my parents moved to Boston when I was only about a year and a half old. I grew up here in Boston and the surrounding area.

A: Oxford, England – my father was the Dean of Christ Church at the college when he was alive. I have fond memories, but I haven't been back since the fire.

hair color ➔

V: Black. Mother occasionally insisted it was dark brown, but – black.

A: Black, though weirdly I actually was almost a redhead as a child. It darkened straight through brown to this as I grew up. I've never been sure why it got so dark, though I suspect all that time lying in Rutledge, getting probably-inadequate nutrition and light for a growing girl, didn't help matters.

eye color ➔

V: Dark brown.

A: Green, though Victor likes being poetic with descriptions like "emerald fire" sometimes.

mood ➔

V: . . .er – generally anxious? Trying to be helpful regardless?

A: Sarcastic? To hide that I'm more worried than I let on?

gender ➔

V: Male, he/him.

A: Female, she/her.

summer or winter ➔

V: Summer – I'm not a fan of the cold. Though spring's my actual favorite season – I love seeing everything come back to life.

A: I feel like I should like winter more, because of the longer nights, but now that we've actually fixed the sunlight issue. . .yes, summer. I'm not really a fan of the cold either.

morning or afternoon ➔

V: Afternoon – I've never been that much of a morning person, and mornings tend to be – stressful in the Commonwealth.

A: To be fair, so are the afternoons, but – yes, generally you're not dealing with threats still wiping the sleep from your eyes in said afternoons. And in my case, they're closer to night, which is still the time when I feel most myself, so. . .

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔

V: [exchanging a very warm look with Alice] Yes.

A: [giving it right back] Very much so.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔

V: Maybe not true love, but attraction? A sense of connection, kinship? Certainly – that's how I felt when I first met Victoria, and later Emily.

A: I can get behind that – my mother said she felt a pull toward my father when they first met. . .but I don't think love at first sight exists. You need to get to know someone – form a solid bond first.

who ended your last relationship ➔

V: [darkly cheerful] The American and Chinese governments, throwing nuclear missiles at each other! [sighing] No, that’s not quite fair – yes, they drove us into Vault 111, but the ones who actually murdered my wife and girlfriend were Kellogg and the Institute. The former more obviously than the latter, but. . . [voice cracks] Damn it, what was wrong with putting everyone's life support back on. . .

A: [puts a comforting hand on his arm] In my case, I never really had a romantic relationship before – even friendships were kind of fleeting, or long-distance. I've gone along with flirtations in the past to get meals, sure, but none of those ever turned into relationships. The closest I had was – well, Heather getting blood-bonded to me, which I didn't even mean to do. I was just trying to help her, and I didn't realize at the time. . . [bites her lip] I ended that – sent her away before she could get hurt by my enemies, explaining that what would make me happiest would be for her to be with her grandmother and stay in college. I wanted to go back and maybe try to help her some more once I was done with LaCroix's bullshit, but then. . .I hope she had a good life, in the end.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔

V: Not knowingly – goodness, what started off my, Victoria, and Emily's threesome relationship was an attempt not to break anyone's heart! It worked out very well, until. . . [shakes his head]

A: [squeezes his arm gently] I probably broke Heather's heart by sending her away – she looked so sad as she walked out the door. But it was for the best – I dread to think what would have happened to her if the Sabbat had realized I had a ghoul! Other than that – depends on if anyone I've drunk from was hoping for more than just a "quickie." I doubt that, though.

are you afraid of commitments ➔

V: I'm afraid of them being forced on me because of people randomly promoting me every time I even get close to an organization. [sighing, reaching up to fiddle with a chain around his neck] But – maybe a little. Seeing – seeing your wife get shot in front of you. . .then your girlfriend's half-rotted corpse beside her. . .it sticks with you.

A: [nods] Being the only survivor of the house fire that killed your family sticks with you too. As does two of the most prominent men in your life being the bastard who killed them and was trying to wipe your mind, and the bastard who killed you and turned you into a bloodsucker. Add in my own rather unromantic nature, and – yes, I did pretty much avoid commitments for a while. [smiles at Victor] I think I'm a little better about it now, though.

have you hugged someone in the last week ➔

V: Oh, yes – Preston and Piper just the other day, in fact!

A: I'm not usually much of one for being touched, so I don't hug much. . . [thinks for a moment, then hugs Victor] But I'll happily make the answer a "yes" in this case.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔

V: Does the brief period of time where Emily was crushing on me before Victoria noticed and decided to let her and me know it was okay if we wanted to date too count? Otherwise, I really don't think so. I wasn't popular with girls before meeting Victoria.

A: Bumby never made it clear whether he wanted to just turn me into a prostitute or fuck me himself as well, but I wouldn't count him anyway, because he was a horrible waste of flesh. So I have no idea – don't think so. Heather was – very open about her admiration.

have you ever broken your own heart ➔

V: Again, what happened between me, Victoria, and Emily was an attempt to avoid that. . .I can't say I have. It seems like others always break it for me.

A: Sending Heather away did hurt me a bit – not in the same way it hurt her, but it was nice to have someone else around the haven. . . [looks up at Victor] And I did resist romance initially here. Fortunately tall, dark, and handsome here didn't let me break my own heart.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔

V: Love, definitely. [going pink] I mean, lust can be nice, but. . .

A: Love – even alive, I wasn't particularly interested in sex. And as a vampire, any urges that way now go toward sucking on people's necks. Which I guess is sex-adjacent, but still. . . Maybe "love" for serious relationships, "lust" for getting a meal.

lemonade or iced tea ➔

V: Oh, I haven't had either in ages. . .and I recall needing a lot of sugar for both to enjoy them. . .I guess lemonade. I think I had that more often.

A: Literally can't drink either these days, for multiple reasons. . .but I'm going with lemonade because I have fonder memories of that. And – hmmm. I wonder if it’s possible to make a variation with that “plasma fruit” Ted came up with at Wildwood Cemetery. . .

cats or dogs ➔

V: Dogs! I had a dog growing up, Scraps, who was my best friend! And Victoria, Emily, and I were going to get a dog shortly after. . . [pause, shakes head] And now I have Dogmeat and Mutt! They’re a good pair.

A: Cats! My best friends growing up were the family cat, Dinah, and her two kittens, Snowdrop and Kitty. Being a vampire does tend to make animals rather mistrustful of me, sadly, but I had some luck feeding ferals pre-War. And we managed to trap a cat recently who didn’t immediately try to claw me and run away – I’ve named her Kit-Kat.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔

V: A few best friends – I'm n-not good with lots of people, and I just. . .I'm always so awkward, s-socially. I'd rather have a couple of people I know I can trust.

A: The same – I don't trust easily, after all the bullshit I've been through. Give me a small circle of people I know have my back over a larger group of more casual friends any day.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔

V: Romantic night in. I'm not much for parties. I like staying home with the people I love and just – being together.

A: Sort of like "love or lust" above, this kind of depends. I like a romantic night in for any actual relationships, but I did my fair share of clubbing to find someone to drink from back in the day.

day or night ➔

V: Well, I do like a good sunny day, but. . . [looking at Alice] I've really come to appreciate the nights in the Commonwealth. And not just because of the stars.

A: [smirking at him] Flatterer. . .but yes, night. For the longest time, it was the only time of day I could be out in. . .and even though it's wonderful now to be able to go out during the day and enjoy that, night is still when I feel most myself.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔

Victor: No, but that's because I never did. I grew up in the middle of a plague – I didn't have much incentive to sneak out! It took until I was fourteen for cases to drop enough in our part of Boston for my parents to be comfortable sending me to a school with other children, and by then I was so used to staying at home, sneaking out never occurred to me.

Alice: Oh god, yes, the New Plague, that was horrific. . .on my end, yes, I was. I tried to sneak out a couple of times as a small child to have adventures in the garden late at night or in the middle of storms. . .if my parents didn't catch me, though, my older sister did. I think I only actually got outside once, and even then it was only for a couple of minutes before Lizzie caught up with me. Mostly because she was trying to sneak out too, and didn't want her little sister tagging along.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔

Victor: . . .yes. To both. I – I can be pretty clumsy if I'm n-not paying attention to where I'm going.

Alice: [giving him an odd look] I've fallen down stairs – rushing around as a child on imaginary adventures – but never up. I'm – not entirely sure how you manage that.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt ➔

V: [tugging at the chain around his neck again, which is revealed to have a blue butterfly pendant and a gold wedding ring strung on it] Yes. Something I can't have, I'm sad to say.

A: [playing with her own necklace, which is an old iron key shaped like the symbol for Venus] Same here. I'd like to think your Victoria and Emily and my parents and Lizzie are in the same place, at least.

wanted to disappear ➔

V: Oh, plenty of times. I have an unfortunate knack for saying the wrong thing and then wishing I could melt into the floor. And – well, I suppose every time I've been hiding from enemies and wanted to just turn invisible counts. . .

A: I wanted to disappear in the asylum a couple of times, in the sense of 'just stop existing.' Survivor's guilt does a number on your brain, let me tell you. . .though I can actually disappear these days, thanks to Obfuscate! Though, annoyingly, I genuinely can't do it if someone's looking.

smile or eyes ➔

V: Oh, back to these? [thoughtful] I – honestly, I think eyes. Victoria and Emily's eyes are one of the things I remember best about them. . . [smiles at Alice] And my current paramour has some of the most beautiful eyes in the Commonwealth.

A: You're going to make me blush despite being dead if you keep on like that. Though, what's good for the goose is good for the gander – while I like your eyes, it's your smile that really warms my undead heart.

shorter or taller ➔

V: Um – shorter out of necessity. I haven't met many women who are six-foot-three.

A: Similarly, I'm five-foot-five, so I kind of have to go taller.

intelligence or attraction ➔

V: . . .I assume this means intelligence or looks, and – I can't deny I like a pretty face, but the main reason I got together with the women I did is because I could hold a good conversation with them. Intelligence.

A: My attraction seems to be based on actually getting to know a person, and I don't suffer fools gladly. Intelligence all the way.

hook-up or relationship ➔

V: Oh, relationship. I never had a hook-up. I can't – I can't just do the "one night stand" thing. I need something a little more.

A: Another one where my actual feelings versus how I'd act to get a meal clash – though admittedly, I never had a "proper" hook-up. I'd just get someone in a quiet spot, suck a bit of blood, and let them get on with their lives. But now that things are better, I'm only too happy to commit myself to a real relationship.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔

V: Well, it’s something of a moot point now, but. . . [he waggles a hand, making a face] I have to admit, I never liked my parents much. They weren’t very “hands-on” in raising me, and I often felt like they considered me a burden. Or a bargaining chip for social status. I did my best not to rock the boat just because upsetting my mother never ended well, but. . . [sigh] It wasn’t good.

A: By contrast, I had a perfectly lovely family life – my parents were kind and encouraged my sister and I in our various pursuits, and Lizzie. . .she was the best older sister a girl could have. I felt like I could tell her anything, and even if the age difference made playing together difficult, she did try whenever she had a spare moment. The reason I have such an “enthusiastic” imagination is because Mama, Papa, and Lizzie never tried to stifle it. I was – I felt so loved and happy the first eight years of my life. . .and then Bumby took it all away. [she looks away] I – it’s not fair.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔

V: [completely deadpan] I was frozen at the age of 27 in a vault designed to store people long-term for unknown reasons, and was finally thawed 210 years later, to find my wife and girlfriend dead, my son kidnapped, and the world above having been turned into a wasteland of vicious wildlife, super mutants, and raiders. With parts of it still irradiated because people are STILL launching small nuclear missiles at each other. Also the people who kidnapped my son can apparently make synthetic humans and use them as spies. And in the middle of all this, I’ve somehow ended up the leader of a bunch of little farms and such that composes a ragtag peacekeeping force that is still better than the actual assholes in power armor who have moved in. You tell me.

A: I can top that – turned into a vampire at age 20 after moving to Los Angeles to make sure I was far away from a murder I’d committed, then ended up roaming the world after a literally-explosive end to my time there as everyone’s errand boy. Was in Boston when the bombs dropped and got staked when my hidey-hole collapsed in on me, meaning I too got essentially “frozen” for 210 years, until a raider attacking this fellow here yanked the stake out and I responded by sucking him dry. Leaving me in a post-nuclear apocalypse trying to survive in a world where anyone’s blood might be at least slightly radioactive. Also we discovered that vampires are in fact the result of a little bit of some Lovecraftian horror worshiped by the people over at Dunwich Borers leaking into our world and infecting our souls. So that’s fun.

have you ever run away from home ➔

V: No – again, grew up in a plague, never really wanted to leave the house because of it.

A: I threatened to, once or twice, when upset, but I never followed through. Though I guess my moving to California could be construed as a kind of running away after I killed Bumby. . .but I never thought of Houndsditch as home. Same with Los Angeles, after I left there in the wake of that mess with LaCroix.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔

V: No, though – sometimes I thought my mother was thinking about it. Whenever my social awkwardness reared its ugly head at one of her parties.

A: My parents were never the sort to do that, and Bumby of course wanted me close at Houndsditch. And I left polite vampire society on my own terms after LaCroix.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔

V: . . .I’m not entirely sure how to classify my relationship with Strong. But I know he thinks more highly of me than I do of him. I – I try to be understanding, but it gets very tiring to listen to him go on about how one day Super Mutants will kill everything.

A: I had to be a lot friendlier to a lot people back in Los Angeles than I would have liked. . .but I don’t think any of them were laboring under the delusion we were actual friends. So no – if I don’t like you, I don’t hide it.

who is your best friend ➔

V: Alice, Preston, and Piper, definitely – they’re the ones I’ve traveled the most with, shared the most with, and just – feel the most comfortable around. [smiles] Oh, and Dogmeat of course.

A: Victor’s definitely my best friend – and frankly, I feel pretty close to Piper and Preston myself. They’re good people. [she smirks] Though Hancock and Nick are definitely the best people to snark with.

who knows everything about you ➔

V: Probably most of the people in the Commonwealth, I’ve had to explain about being frozen and what happened to my son a lot. . .more seriously, I’d say the above three. They’re the people I’m closest to, and the ones I’m most comfortable sharing information with.

A: I don’t know about everything, but – yes, Victor. And probably Piper knows the most after him, given she wanted to interview me for her paper.

[gffa]

You have great taste, so I was wondering if you have any fic recs for the OT trilogy? Specifically with Vader? Your recs are the reason that I no longer eat or sleep and exist entirely of off Ao3.

Thank you, that’s very sweet of you!  I’m glad to help with the “I should be sleeping but who am I if I’m not staying up way too late to read just twenty more chapters before finally collapsing into unconsciousness, like, WHO AM I AS A PERSON if I’m not doing that?” because I don’t want to be the only one!So, here, HAVE SOME VADER FEELINGS.  And some occasional post-Vader feelings, but that were meant to take place near the end of the OT.  This is specifically for Vader fics, but if you want other OT-era stuff, like with Luke and Leia, just let me know.  ♥VADER & LEIA FIC:✦ Just a Little Bit of History Repeating by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & leia, 3.7k    “I’m in charge of security, Your Highness,” Vader said, haughty and automatic, and had to shove away a sudden onslaught of memories. It was this building, he thought, and the presence of a small brunette senator with a smart mouth. That was all.✦ Father’s Heart by FernWithy, anakin & leia & ocs, 38.8k   During Princess Leia’s teenage years, she discovers a friend in an unlikely – and disturbing – person: Lord Vader. ✦ Leave Me, Oh Love by AceQueenKing, han/leia + anakin & leia, 3.2k    “No offense,” she said, “but I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now.” “Leia-” Vader said, but she held up her hand. “Of all the dead people in my life, you really are the one I least want to see right now.” ✦ The Tyranny of Kinship by amarielah, anakin & leia & luke & han & obi-wan & rex & ahsoka & cast, 23.6k wip    The presence of an Alliance mole aboard the Death Star leads to Bail Organa learning quickly of his daughter’s capture. With the dissolution of the Senate, only one option remains for him to save her life: telling Vader the truth of her parentage.✦ on the day… by victoria_p, anakin & leia & obi-wan & bail/breha & cast, 6.4k    Darth Vader eavesdrops on a very interesting conversation.✦ which grows higher than soul can hope by victoria_p, anakin & leia & luke & han & cast, 8.6k    “If Vader captures you, if he threatens to torture or kill you, you tell him you’re Padmé Amidala’s daughter.”✦ Everything That Rises Must Converge by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & anakin & luke & leia, 5.1k   In which Leia makes it to Tatooine’s surface after the Tantive IV is boarded, and nobody is prepared for this particular family reunion.✦ I Won’t Disturb the Slumber of Feelings That Have Died by Darkmagyk, anakin & leia, 1.6k   Leia Organa is no angel. ✦ Clarity by Orange_Clown, anakin & leia, 1k   By the time that the Imperial Forces landed on Hoth, Leia was the only one left on the base. ✦ Flesh of My Flesh by igrockspock, anakin & leia, 3.6k   Leia was not adopted. She was stolen in the middle of the night and registered to House Organa with forged papers. This was kidnapping, a class one felony, and her parents could be executed – unless she returned voluntarily to her rightful father. Immediately. A man called Grand Moff Tarkin explained this to Leia when she was eleven years old.✦ Carmine by AceQueenKing, anakin & leia, 2.7k   The Princess stirs, waking; her eyes catch him at her door and her face darkens, ready for a fight. ✦ The Trick is to Keep Breathing by AceQueenKing, anakin & leia, 3.3k    She’s older now, and so is he. Far older now. She wonders: will he have lost any power with his age? Will he be shorter, weaker? An old man on a ventilator?It’s hard to imagine that he won’t still be dangerous. But then, that’s exactly what she’s counting on.✦ Hear Me by crowleyshouseplant, anakin & leia & luke & cast, 3.2k   Leia struggles to reconcile Luke’s experience with his father and hers with Darth Vader.✦ In Which Vader Discovers He is a Father by glompcat, anakin & luke & leia & cast, 27.7k   A collection of (mostly self-contained) AUs where Vader learns about his kids earlier than he did in the canon timeline. Exploring both that moment of initial discovery, and the way the story unfolds after Vader finds Leia and/or Luke. ✦ deep as a secret nobody knows by victoria_p (musesfool), leia & anakin & obi-wan & luke & han & bail & cast, 6.3k   “If Vader captures you, if he threatens to torture or kill you, you tell him you’re Padmé Amidala’s daughter.”✦ daughter of mountains (the flesh and bone remix) by darlingargents, anakin & leia, 1.4k   Vader was Leia’s father, too. To die by his side would be the greatest honour.✦ The Gifted Child by AceQueenKing, anakin & leia & bail, 2.3k    Bail Organa watches his daughter navigate Coruscant society.  So does Darth Vader.✦ Siren Song by madame_alexandra, anakin & leia, 1.8k    Lord Vader has a crippling headache, and the source of it fascinates him.✦ The War at Home by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & leia, 1.4k   He’s been there for all her other losses, so it feels right for him to be here for this one, too.VADER & LUKE FIC:✦ Sibling Revelry by frodogenic, anakin & luke & leia & cast & ocs, 25.5k   After Bespin and before Endor, Darth Vader is shocked to discover that Luke and Leia are twins. He’s even more shocked when Imperial Intelligence reports that Organa and Skywalker are, erm, a tad closer than previously suspected. ✦ Limpet AU byfrodogenic, anakin & luke & mara & piett & cast, 69.8k   AU. Darth Vader, having survived the Battle of Endor, proceeds to get himself and his ship lost in the Unknown Regions for twenty-five years. When he returns, he finds the Empire has fallen, the New Republic is in force, and he himself has a new role to play…Grandpa. If you have ever wanted to see Vader vs. toddler, this is your story. Fluffily humorous.✦ a walk on part in the war by victoria_p, anakin & luke & leia & ahsoka & cast, 10.3k    Luke considers this family reunion far more successful than the one in Cloud City. At least this time, no one loses a hand.✦ In Loco Pirates by izzythehutt, anakin & luke & cast, 34.9k   A down-on-his-luck Hondo Ohnaka manages to capture the unicorn of all bounties–Luke Skywalker, which sends Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, on a painfully familiar trip to the planet Florrum to collect his prize. The failed negotiations leave Vader in the awkward position of being stuck in a besieged pirate bunker, trying to balance keeping his wayward child safe (and in his custody) with controlling the tongue of a loose-lipped pirate who–to the surprise of no one–has a bad habit of telling ‘amusing’ anecdotes from the Clone Wars.✦ Deja Vu by SkippingSteppingStones, obi-wan & anakin & luke, 2k   When Darth Vader is roused from sleep by a sob he feels strangely connected to, he is compelled to find its source.✦ Two and a Half Men (with a baby) by jerseydevious, obi-wan & anakin & luke & piett, 5.5k wip   After a long day of bargaining with Hutts and attempting to ignore his past, Darth Vader is nearing the end of his rope. When he discovers his two-year-old son, it’s the straw that breaks the semi-rational Sith Lord’s back; in a rash act worthy of the Skywalker name, he scoops his son into his arms, steals a shuttle from his own fleet, and punches in random hyperspace coordinates to a destination on the other side of the galaxy. Unfortunately, father and son are not the only ones on the ship.✦ The Family Tree by frodogenic, vader & luke, 12k   In which Luke Skywalker is stranded in a tree waiting for a flash flood to recede. Too bad he’s got company… Post-ESB oneshot, can be read as canon-compliant.✦ Out of the Darkness and Into the Sun by Spongyllama, anakin & luke & leia, 2.7k   Luke is desperate to keep his father alive after Endor, but he’s the only one who thinks Vader should be allowed to live.VADER & AHSOKA FIC:✦ trade your heroes for ghosts by victoria_p (musesfool), vader & ahsoka, 1.5k    Vader presents Ahsoka with an ultimatum. ✦ memories like ashes at our feet by ambiguously, anakin & ahsoka, 4.2k   Darth Vader was gravely injured in the explosion of the Sith Temple. Now Anakin Skywalker has no memory of what he’s doing here with Ahsoka.✦  the stillness of remembering by darlingargents, anakin & ahsoka, 2.3k   A few years after the rise of the Empire, Ahsoka starts to have a recurring dream ✦ Balance Point by Vinyarie, anakin & ahsoka, 34.3k   Ahsoka wakes up trapped beneath the rubble of the Sith temple on Malachor with the man currently known as Darth Vader. He’s a Sith lord who has done some truly awful things, but she’s certain that some part of him is still Anakin Skywalker, and she’s going to convince him of that. No matter how many times he tries to kill her for it.✦all the words i once believed by darlingargents, anakin & ahsoka, 6.8k    Anakin Skywalker wakes up after fifteen years with a body that isn’t his.✦ Precious Illusions by amarielah, anakin & ahsoka, 2.4k    In the aftermath of their confrontation on Malachor, Ahsoka pays Vader a visit. From a certain point of view.OTHER OT/VADER FIC:✦ Not Placid Stars But Singularities by iceplanet, anakin & cast (obi-wan & luminara & ahsoka & darth plagueis), 6.2k    In the weeks after Mustafar, Vader must come to terms with his new body and the remnants of his past. In the process, he has a few conversations that he does not expect. ✦ Salvage by SharpestRose, obi-wan & anakin & luke & padme & shmi & qui-gon, 4.6k    Obi-Wan thought he’d seen the worst of what Anakin was capable of. Obi-Wan’s not entirely right about that.✦ Wrong Number by Siamesa, obi-wan & anakin & luke & yoda & owen/beru, 3.4k   In hiding on Dagobah, the Lars family aquires a holocom. Things go horribly wrong.✦ Surrender to the Light by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & anakin & luke & qui-gon, 1.1k   Ben Kenobi knew exactly what he was doing when he saw Luke watching his duel with Darth Vader.✦ Domo Arigato, Mr Roboto by amarielah, anakin & sam & dean & cast, crossover, 16k wip   When Sam and Dean investigate a spate of Vader sightings in a remote Wyoming town, they discover that – this time – they’re hunting the real deal. Vader, meanwhile, has to adjust to a world that seems designed to piss him off. All while trying his best not to strangle the Winchesters.OBI-WAN & VADER FIC:✦ Cold by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin, 5.4k    Luke wasn’t the only one that Obi-Wan visited after he died. ✦ Betrayal: A Love Story by Shiny_n_new, obi-wan/anakin, 2.7k wip    A week after he kills Obi-wan Kenobi, Vader realizes he is being haunted. ✦ untitled by phosphorescent-naidheachd, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k    All you really need to know is that Obi-Wan’s ghost is in the slow process of haunting Vaderkin back into the Light during the original trilogy. ✦ Until Their Dying Breath by Down the Rabbit Hole, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k    Vader’s ghosts are complicated. Set between The Empire Strikes Back and The Return of the Jedi. ✦ You Can’t Front on That by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & anakin, 3.9k    When he hears Kenobi’s voice again months after killing him, Vader wonders if perhaps he’s begun to go mad.✦ Replaceable by amarielah, obi-wan/anakin, mildly nsfw, ~1k    He buries hands of flesh in thick, auburn-colored hair. He knows this is a dream. ✦ World Come Undone by crazyundeadfairy, obi-wan/anakin & luke + background anakin/padme, 68.3k wip    Unexpected things happen when ObiWan takes Luke to Tatooine. ✦ Second Chances by Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33), obi-wan/anakin & han/luke & leia + cast, de-aged fic, 106.3k wip    Leia wasn’t convinced inviting evil incarnate to join them in fighting the Empire was exactly one of Obi-Wan’s brightest ideas. ✦ Everything You Wanted by obaona, obi-wan & anakin + background anakin/padme, 11.3k    A RotS AU. Anakin is now Emperor and has captured ObiWan. But things are never that simple …✦ Back Drifting by puts foot in mouth, obi-wan & anakin, de-aged!obi-wan, 20.4k wip    After falling on Mustafar, Obi-Wan awakens to the dubious reality of being trapped in the cloned body of his child self, and now has to cope with the reversed father/son relationship fostered upon him by the new Sith Lord.Darth Vader redemption story. ✦ Disjointed by Ha_neul, obi-wan/anakin & luke, 2.1k    Returning to Tatooine to erase his past, Vader reunites with his old lover and their son. ✦ closing in by SpaceTimeSkywalker, obi-wan/anakin, 1k   Anakin and Obi-Wan were already long gone at that point, as their souls had perished together in the lava and amidst the acrid smoke; and all there was left was their shells, empty, remembering fragments of happier times that had long since passed. ✦ Obikin Drabble by fn_6969, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k   Anonymous prompt: “fic idea- darth vader thinking about obi-wan oh no”✦ we were born for better days by FireflysLove, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 3.6k wip   Obi-Wan attempts to save Vader from the Dark Side, but the Rebellion, especially Bail Organa and Ahsoka Tano, are not going to believe that after a decade of terrorizing the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker can possibly be saved.✦ Sear me pale sun by liv_k, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, bittersweet themes, 9.8k   “So here we are, a failed Jedi, a Sith, and our imminent deaths. I leave it to you to choose how we will meet our demise, whether fighting or doing something else entirely.”✦ my heart is an echo chamber by Burning_Nightingale, obi-wan/anakin, 3.4k   Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader don’t meet again until their final confrontation on the Death Star. Not in person, at least.✦ They rhyme by liv_k, obi-wan & anakin, 5.2k   Past and future, darkness and light, despair and hope meet one last time.FORCE GHOST ANAKIN FIC:✦ can’t carry it with you by irnan, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k    So oneness with the Force is found in a field now? ✦ The Moment You Know by tricksterity, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, ~1k    A short, alternative ending to Return of the Jedi and the appearance of certain Force ghosts on Endor. ✦ The Last Temptation of Anakin Skywalker by theascetic, obi-wan/anakin, 4.9k wip    Obi Wan gives, and Anakin takes. ✦ Ghosts Can Become One by Lilly_Thoo, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k    Anakin and Obi-Wan bicker a little bit. ✦ Complexities of Love by agentjedi, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 7.5k    Anakin comes to terms with his new existence, and learns new lessons in the Force in a most unusual way. ✦ Salvation by Spongyllama, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 6.8k    Following his death, Anakin isn’t quite sure if he’s in heaven or hell. Not that he’s ever really believed in either. ✦ i wake up more awake than i’ve ever been before by ShakyHades, obi-wan/anakin, 1.1k    He missed their bond and camaraderie, the times they trusted each other with their lives. It hurt, seeing Obi-Wan and remembering how Anakin was the one to destroy everything the other had held dear, including himself. ✦ Dig the Grave and Let Me Lie by de_corporis, obi-wan & anakin, 1k    “Anakin,” says Obi-Wan again, and slides one hand up to cradle Anakin’s cheek. “I am so very proud of you.” Obi-Wan welcomes Anakin home. ✦ Died last night in my dreams by SquaresAreNotCircles, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon & yoda, force ghosts, 2.2k    Obi-Wan sipped his tea and stared morosely out into nothing. “Become a force ghost, he said. It’ll be for the good of the universe, he said.” ✦ Strange Meetings by gilestel, luke & ahsoka & anakin, 2.9k    Luke almost didn’t notice the figure cloaked in white who stood before the charred remnants of the pyre in which he had cremated his father’s empty armor.✦I Never Knew You by Ibelin, anakin & kylo ren, 3.8k   After the defeat at Starkiller, Kylo Ren is on his way to Snoke to complete his training and, during meditation, he gets a visit from someone he’d always wanted to meet. It doesn’t go as well as he’d hoped. Be careful what you wish for - especially when what you wish for involves Darth Vader.✦ I Never Knew You by Ibelin, anakin & kylo, 3.8k   After the defeat at Starkiller, Kylo Ren gets a visit from someone he’d always wanted to meet. It doesn’t go as well as he’d hoped. Be careful what you wish for - especially when what you wish for involves Darth Vader. ✦ Let the Past Die by Ibelin, anakin & leia, 2k   Anakin’s Force ghost has scared Kylo Ren. When he visits Leia next, it’s his turn to be scared.✦ we are here and it is now by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & rey & luke, 3.5k   “So either you’re not here or you’re not living,” she says. “I’m definitely here,” he replies, and there’s amusement in his voice.✦ And There Shall I Find by ambiguously, anakin & leia, 5.6k    After her shuttle crashes on a desolate world, Leia has only one person to keep her company. ✦ Drowned in Moonlight by scarletjedi, anakin & leia & cast, 3k    Leia Dies. What, like that was going to stop her?✦ learn to live with what you can’t rise above by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & leia, 1.9k     Leia doesn’t have time for the ghost of her dead father, except when she does.

[thecleverdame]

Sleepy Hollow - Chapter Eight

Series Master List

Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo

Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.

Words: 40k

Beta:  ilikaicalie

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Western Woods

No one, indeed. Sam, Dean and Young Masbath ride alone, their horses loaded up for the expedition. The three ride through the dark and gnarled woods keeping a watchful eye.

“The Van Garretts, the Widow Winship, Jonathan Masbath, and now Magistrate Philipse...something must connect them. Can you think of anything Young Masbath?” Sam asks.

“We had no dealings with the magistrate that I know of.” The boy shrugs. “And the widow?” Dean pulls his horse beside him. “Your father knew her?”

“Everyone knew Widow Winship,” he confirms.   “In a manner of speaking I trust.” Sam glances to Dean.

“She would bring old Mr. Van Garrett a basket of eggs every week.” A crow screeches in the distance and all three riders nearly jump in their saddle.

“Did your father have dealings with the Van Garretts?” Sam inquires.

Young Masbath look between the brothers. “He worked for them, we lived in the coach house.”

“You didn’t think to mention this?” Dean presses. “It’s nothing, there were many servants. All dismissed now, of course...But there was something that happened one night, a week before the murder. An argument upstairs between father and son, and my father was later sent for by Mr. Van Garrett.” Sam nods, “An argument between father and son?” “After which, the elder Van Garrett summoned his servant, my father.”

“Stop.” Dean snaps, putting his hand up. “Listen.” “I hear nothing.” Young Masbath looks around.

“Nor do I, no birds, no crickets.” Sam keeps his eyes on the horizon, fingers grazing over the grip of his pistol.

“Everything has gone quiet,” Dean notes. “We need to keep moving.”

“This way,” Sam nods. They reach a hill crest, stopping to take stock of the surroundings. Below there is a cave with a rock archway over two ill-fitting doors that look to be coming off the hinges. Above is a chimney, smoke pouring out into the gray sky. “This is a bad idea.” Young Masbath pulls his horse back several steps.

“Bad ideas are what we do best.” Sam grins, dismounting his horse. “He’s right. Don’t be scared, boy. You’re safe with us.” Dean jumps to the ground, helping Young Masbath down.

They tie their horses to a tree and head toward the cave, stalking carefully on the approach.

“Do we...knock?” Sam whispers, looking at his brother.

Dean shrugs, hand on the butt of his pistol. “Sure.” Sam taps on the door twice, and it flops to and fro, clearly ajar.

Looking back at his two companions, Sam raises his eyebrows and ducks down to prowl inside. The walls are covered with skins and skeletons. Sam freezes when he spots her, across the cave is an old crone, facing away from them, motionless. Everything about her is gray, from her hair to her rotting skin. They all share a look as Sam clears his throat lightly. “Pardon our intrusion…”

There’s no response, so Sam edges forward.

“Are you from the Hollow?” Her voice is broken, fractured sounds only held together by the rasping of her throat. “In a way,” Dean affirms, leaving Young Masbath behind him to join Sam. Dean taps his brother’s arm, bringing his attention to the table beside them. It’s littered with gourd bowls of dead insects, dried leaves, acorns, knives, scissors, and yellowed bones. “I would like to say,” Sam inches closer. “We make no assumptions about your occupation, rather, your ways witch-which are nothing new to us. To each their own.” The Crone places something on a table beside her, a dead bird, a bright red cardinal. Sam begins to back away, but Dean stops him. “Do you know of the Horseman, ma'am? The Hessian?” Dean finds his voice.

The Crone draws her finger across her neck. “That'll be him, miss.” The elder Winchester snickers.

Around her neck is a cord on which is threaded a carved stone, a mystic bauble, they both notice. The Crone stands tall and faces them, pointing to Sam.

“You, follow me.” She curls her finger. “Get out, child,” she instructs Young Masbath. “Keep away. No matter what you hear, keep away.” Sam looks back to Dean who’s standing his ground. “She wants you, not me.” The crone takes a candle and heads deeper into the cave and Sam follows her through the passage,terrified and bent under the low ceiling. “Um, what might he hear that he must keep away from?” “Sit here,” she instructs. Sam sits on a crooked stool. The Crone kneels with her back to him, grasping two metal cuffs with chains attached, sliding them onto her wrists, testing them. “He rides to the Hollow and back. I hear him. I smell the blood on him,” she grits.

“Do you,” he stops trying to find the right question. “We’re here to find him, to make him stop.”

“You want to see into the netherworld? I can show you.”

She gathers straw in a pile on the floor, then bowls, putting grass and powder on the pile, fussing over it. Then takes a jar from a table. “What are you doing?” Sam watches intently, he’s scared but even more entranced. This is old magic he didn’t believe existed in these modern times.

The Crone shakes one jar, pulling the lid off and upends it. A baby bat squirms, dazed. The Crone grips the bat using a knife to cut off its head, soaking the straw with blood. “Do not move or speak. When the other comes, I will hold him.” She explains calmly and Sam bows his head in confirmation. Using her candle, the Crone lights the straw pile. “The Other?” He asks softly.

“Silence,” she hisses, bending over to inhale the smoke. “He comes now.” The Crone slumps forward to the floor, suddenly immobile with her back to Sam. Wind howls through a hole somewhere in the wall of the cave. Sam looks around, uncertain. “Excuse me...ma'am?” The Crone remains motionless. The wind intensifies, candles blow out. Sam inches closer... “Do you hear me?” he asks again, a bit louder this time.

The Crone jumps erect, spinning - a half-human, half-demon creature, black clawed hands reaching out to Sam. He cries out, leaping backward. The chain on the restraining cuffs around its hands goes taut, yanking the creature back. Sam knocks over a table of bones, hits the floor. The creature is chained, but still wants Sam. It shrieks. Its face still seethes from transformation. “You seek the warrior bathed in blood, the Headless Horseman.” Sam scrambles to his feet as the creature claws the rock floor, yearning. “Follow the Indian trail to where the sun dies. Follow to the Tree of the Dead.”  The creature yanks, testing the chains. Behind, the bolt holding the chains slips, the wall cracking. “Climb down to the Horseman's resting place. Do you hear?” Sam nods, quaking, aghast. He glances back, wishing Dean were here to witness this horrific display. The chain bolt gives more,  it’s coming loose. Sam flees toward the door. The creature howls, leaping when the chain bolt breaks. Sam shouts as he's tackled to the floor. But when he looks up it’s only the crone lying on him. She’s returned to her human form, semi-conscious as Sam shoves her off him and to the floor. Sam sprints out from the cave, past Dean and Young Masbath. “We are leaving.”

“What happened?” Dean asks, watching Sam mount his horse.

“We are leaving, now.” Sam offers no room for dissent.

“Stop and talk to me, brother.” Dean claps a hand on Sam’s saddle horn.

“I cannot pretend to understand what’s happening in this place. But a spirit spoke to me.” Sam’s face is ashen. Dean stares at him a moment longer, then wordlessly mounts his own horse.

Sam, Dean, and Young Masbath ride side by side. "Take the Indian trail...to the Tree of the Dead.” Sam repeats, scanning the trees around him. “How will we recognize it?” Young Masbath asks. “Without difficulty, I rather fear,” Dean snorts.

“And climb down to the Horseman's resting place, she said.” Sam recites for the tenth time, as the repetition will hold the words in his memory.

“His camp?” Dean wonders out loud. “His grave.” Sam’s sure of it.

Somewhere in the woods is a snapping branch that breaks the silence. The three look back.

“There’s someone out there.” Dean listens, eyes fluttering closed as he tilts his head toward the sound.

“We need a better vantage point.” Sam searches their surrounds. “Up there.”

They charge up the hill, halting the horses, the constables dismounting. Sam and Dean hand off the reins to Young Masbath and draw their guns.

“Ride on,” Dean whispers to the boy, who obeys immediately. The Winchesters wade into forest growth, backtracking the route they just took. Moving through the underbrush, keeping low. There’s the snort of a horse and they look to each in unspoken communication. They come up behind a figure in a gray cloak on horseback. Dean nods at Sam, both men raising their pistols, cocking the hammers. “Halt and turn! There are pistols aimed.” Sam’s voice booms through the forest.

The figure stops, pushes off the cloak hood. “It is me.” You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, looking at the two men who have their weapons trained on you.

“Y/N,” Sam lowers his gun. “We might have killed you. Why are you here?”

“Because no one else would go with you,” you answer honestly, watching the wonderful, faint smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. He��s heartened by your presence.

“I am now twice the man.” Sam reaches out, taking your hand, helping you off your steed. The feel of his hand on yours makes your cheeks flush.

Dean sighs averting his gaze, looking toward the tree line. “It is your white magic.” Sam grins, one hand curling around your waist.

Your eyes meet and he leans closer, unphased by his brother who stands only feet away.

“Pardon my intrusion…” Young Masbath steps out of the woods.

“Oh please,” Dean smiles, patting the boy's shoulder. “No one has ever had more perfect timing my young man.”

“I think you'd better come and look at this, constables.” You follow the boy, Sam reaching behind to take your hand, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Your fingers thread between his, a thrilling reminder of how large every part of him seems to be. The four of you come into a clearing, slowing your pace to look up at the monstrously huge Tree of the Dead at the center of the clearing. Its branches reach far and wide, knotted and gross, like agony captured in wood sculpture. “The Tree of the Dead,” Dean mutters, awestruck. “It does announce itself,” you whisper in confirmation, transfixed by the arboreal terror before you.

Without looking back Sam gives your hand a squeeze, before relinquishing his hold. He crosses a line beyond which grass and weeds will not grow. The three of you follow. Sam stares up into the endless, dead canopy of branches. There's a vertical wound in the bark, like a terrible suture, now healed and scarred. Sam reaches out, finger sinking into the mushy scar, picking at its scabs till sap begins to run. Red sap. Sam coats his fingers and brings them to his nose, sniffing. “Blood.” He looks to Dean.

“The tree bleeds? How can it be?” you ask, stepping forward to look at the evidence.

Dean turns back to the horses, pulling two hand axes from the saddlebags. “What is it?” Young Masbath looks on, shaking in fright.

“Move back.” Sam locks eyes with you, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine, despite this perilous situation. At the trunk, Dean hands Sam an ax, thumping the flat end of it against the suture. It sounds hollow. They look to each other, and in accord they begin to chop. Dean sinks in first, pulling away loose bark. The tree drips more blood and a sickening goo. Sam uses both hands on the ax to hack at the festering suture. “What are you doing?” You stand on your toes, trying to look around the men.

“Just...keep where you are.” Sam instructs, fixated on the task at hand.

Young Masbath moves closer as the men keep chopping. Dean grips a large, loose flap, trying to pull it away. It's not easy. Sam joins him and they both struggle. You follow Young Masbath's slow advance. Both men give a menacing heave and the flap suddenly gives, revealing a blood-soaked, wide-eyed, gape-mouthed human head. Sam recoils, Dean covers his mouth. Behind them, you stifle a scream, clasping both hands over your mouth. Sam cocks his head, getting a closer look. It is Philipse’s head, hanging off the trunk flap, held by roots grown around and into the flesh. Four other severed, decaying heads are held by ingrown roots within the dewy innards. One of the heads is Jonathan Masbath's. Before Young Masbath sees it, you hide his face, drawing him to you as he buries his head in your arms.

“My God,” you stammer, fear and confusion twisting in your belly. “He tries to take the heads back with him, but they will not pass,” Sam thinks out loud.

“We must leave this place,” you call out, gaining the attention of both men.

Sam looks to the branches towering above. ”This is a gateway, between two worlds.” Dean studies the ground, circling the trunk, around the other side he gets to his knees. There he’s found the Horseman’s sword, a grave marker, jutting up from the ground, rusted twenty years' worth, gripped by the tree trunk and vines. Sam joins his brother, touching the ground with blood-stained fingers. “Climb down to the Horseman’s resting place.”

“Bring the shovels,” Dean calls out. Both men look up to the sight of you holding the boy, looking on in horror. “Forgive me.” Dean backtracks. Young Masbath courageously recovers himself, wiping his eyes and nose on the back of his sleeve. “Yes, sir, the shovels. Two shovels and the rifle, I suggest.” The sun is setting as you watch them dig by lantern light. Young Masbath is crouched, rifle across his knees. He watches the tree, looking up at the swarm of bats in the high branches. Sam and Dean both stand in a shallow grave. “This ground has been disturbed, the soil is loose.” Sam looks from his brother to you, throwing down his shovel. You and Young Masbath come to the edge of the grave. Sam pulls at thick burlap cloth covered heavy with dirt, straining as it comes away. Sam drops the burlap, looking down, disbelieving. “Dean, look!” The roots have gripped the Horseman’s bones and tattered uniform. The skeleton is all there, except the skull. “The skull is gone. What does it mean?” You scowl, looking away from the putrid sight. Sam jumps out from the grave. “It means, my dear Miss Van Tassel, it means...yes! What exactly does it mean? It definitely means something, only time will tell! But I sense that we are very close to the answer here.” Both Winchesters are both so caught up in the bones in front of them that they seem oblivious to the ground undulating beneath their feet. “Sam!” you shriek as he turns to look you. You grab Young Masbath, backing away as the roots in the grave come alive, entwining around the remains.

“Something is happening,” Dean draws Sam’s attention to the twisted tree behind them. The vertical suture seethes, pulling inward, sucking Philipse’s head back in and closing, bubbling at the edges. “Run!” Sam bounds over the grave, with Dean at his heels. He grabs you without slowing. Two big hands curl around your waist, plucking you off the ground as he heads for cover on the other side of the clearing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, you can look behind him, the tree swelling and pulsing, the leaking scar moments from bursting open. Once Sam passes the bucking horses, he slips into the tree line, setting you down and moving to the forefront, putting himself between you and impending terror. There’s a rumbling coming from the tree as you peek around Sam to watch the spectacle. The wound bursts wide open, spitting smoldering cinders into the air.

From the open portal a glow brightens, and without warning, The Headless Horseman on his mighty steed, Daredevil, explodes into existence. The horse’s hooves hit the ground running, the ground shaking as horse and rider ride away, bolts of lightning striking the earth behind them. “Did you see that!” Sam shouts to Dean, both men look strangely excited for having just witnessed such a horrifying event.

“We have to go!” Dean responds, both of them already running toward their horses.

“Go straight home!” Sam calls back to you and Young Masbath. “Don’t stop for anything!” You call after him but there’s no stopping the Winchesters as they give chase, horses rearing up on two legs before speeding away in hot pursuit. Trees are silhouetted against the sky.

As the horseman’s hoofbeats grow faster, branches bending like arms and fingers yearning to touch. As the horseman roars past, and in turn, the trees relax. The Horseman rides fast with Sam and Dean behind him. There’s no keeping up and they slow, trying to decide what route he’s taken. “There!” Dean points to the distance, the sky is lit up. There’s a fire. The old crone’s cave is vomiting flames when they arrive. Embers swirling in the night air, the men dismount, heading closer to the cave as Dean slips on a blood covered rock, landing very close to the crone’s headless body. Dean recoils, crawling away, looking at the carnage in disbelief.

The corpse lies near the cave entrance. The jagged skin of the neck wound still bleeds. The ground and dead leaves around the corpse are thick with blood.  Sam walks back to the crone,  her headless neck has been cut and the carved Bauble is missing. They hear a Horse neighing in the trees, and the sound of the horse crashing through the undergrowth. They can hear him departing but can see nothing.

[aprilgrayrobin]

Judgment XX

Part 1

When I was sixteen, I came home from school one day and my mother gathered my little sister and I in the living room with an enormous sense of urgency.  Her face was full of fear and sorrow as she presented us each with a backpack, and told us that everything we would need to hopefully survive could be found inside. A change of clothes, running shoes, thermal blanket, protein bars, tablets to disinfect drinking water, basic first aid supplies, iodine tablets to prevent the body from absorbing radiation, and a bundle of cash in small bills.

She informed us that the very next day, according to the prediction of an evangelical pastor, the rapture would take place. In Christian theology, this is the second coming of Christ to Earth and the event that signals what is commonly conceptualized as “the end of the world.”  As a Christian, my mother believed that she would ascend to heaven. As “non-believers,” my sister and I would be left in the rubble… which is to say some vague, resource-scarce dystopian landscape of smoky skies and fights to the death in abandoned grocery stores aisles.

My mom was ready to go. She was ready to leave this world, and move on prematurely to the afterlife. But this was not a new thing. She had been ready, with barely one foot on the ground, for as long as I can remember.

As a young child, I recall tornado warnings that would send us running to the basement with sleeping bags, ready for the worst. The world ending wasn’t always about Christ’s return, see. More broadly, for my mom, I think it was about retreating from reality. It was any excuse to hole up and defend her nuclear family from threats semi-real to fully imagined.  She hoarded (and still, I believe, hoards) supplies as a regular practice--cleaning products, canned goods, bulk grains, batteries--and invariably most of it would expire before it was ever put to use. But it soothes her, my mother, and abates the anxieties stoked by Fox News, InfoWars and fire-and-brimstone preachers delivering end times prophecies to the day.

It is hard to share this. Despite the harm she caused me, and the fact that we do not speak, I have love for my mother. I see her paranoia and her attempts to feel safe in a world that is fundamentally not safe.  I feel sad that she can only conceptualize safety as being more prepared than her neighbors, and keeping it all to herself. I want to share this, though, because in being raised by someone perpetually readying herself for the apocalypse, I developed a readiness of my own.

I am thinking about the Dean Spade lecture on mutual aid, “Solidarity Not Charity,” that I attended this past fall. There was a moment when he was speaking about the idea of safe spaces as being not only an impossibility, but a concept that actually detracts from effective organizing. I want to quote him as saying, “If I get my safety from making you wrong, that’s authoritarian.” He described being at a meeting where people were planning for a common goal, and someone saying something hurtful and offensive. Rather than immediately kicking the person out, he said, what could come of recognizing that you had a common enemy (capitalism, the police, etc) and educating them. The “safety” that would allow him to respond to that situation in the latter way was generated by “having enough, and being held in community so that we can tolerate discomfort.” it is this definition of safety that I have been orienting towards.

Part 2

Recently someone asked me what kind of witch I am, and I told them “a political one.”  I say this because the witch hunts of early modern Europe are one of the main origin points for our current conception of what a witch is. Although the Wicca of second wave feminism claimed those executed as “witches” to be ancestors of a Pagan religious tradition, in reality many if not most of them understood themselves as Christian. According to Silvia Federici’s extensively researched thesis, the people executed as witches were killed for the threat they posed to the newly enforced order of economic and social relations— early capitalism. In medieval Europe, most people practiced some form of what we would call magic. Charms for love, money and protection were run of the mill. It was only the magic of those who existed in opposition to the patriarchal capitalist order--the unmarried, disabled, unhoused, and destitute--that was labeled diabolical. Those Christians became heretics, and heretics became witches. The practice of magic alone did not, and perhaps does not, make someone a witch.

I am a witch in part because I was baptized in the Presbyterian church. I am a witch because I am a dyke who loves God (in a polytheistic kinda way). I am a witch because I survived an upbringing that nearly killed me, and I have committed my life to fight to destroy the societal structures which give rise to the interpersonal violence that I endured. I am a witch because of the non-hierarchical way I strive to relate to life in all its forms— plant, animal, human and non-human, living and dead. I am a witch because I believe that what we can imagine, we can bring into being.

In March of 2017 I was preparing for a spring equinox ritual with a group of witches as part of a Wheel of the Year class offered by my teacher, Miel Rose. On the seasonal theme, we wanted to cast a spell for moving back into embodiment after a time of being numb... For embracing the movement of spring after the dormancy of winter.  In the week between our planning meeting and the day of our ritual, I found out the man my sister was dating, Rafael, an undocumented man from Guatemala, was detained by ICE in Pennsylvania.  I remember feeling utterly powerless to free him from the jaws of the evil machine that is our immigration system. I went into ritual thinking about our intention for greater embodiment and movement. It wasn’t complete, I realized, as a spell to support our own transformation. We needed to cast a spell for freedom of movement for all people, all beings.  And so we did.

On the bike path in Northampton, under the South Street overpass, we chalked in huge letters

A WORLD WITHOUT CAGES IS POSSIBLE.

And we chanted and hummed and visioned and sent the truth of that world we could feel in our bodies out to be picked up and passed on by others.

After ritual, I wrote these words in my journal:

"I WILL FEED MYSELF BECAUSE I LOVE THIS WORLD AND I AM OF THIS WORLD AND I DESERVE TO BE FED

Let it all come up into the (sun)light

Learning to be vulnerable, slowly Learning I won’t be punished for it Learning it’s ok to make mistakes, to be wrong, to fuck up That I can and will be held

Real change is slow and sometimes it hurts but sometimes it’s a steady drip till the water flows in full."

We were unsuccessful in our legal efforts to free Rafael from detention and prevent him from being deported. Witnessing his journey struggling against the system--attending his asylum trial inside the prison where he was being held--further radicalized me and moved me to political engagement in a new way. Fast forward a couple of years and I’ve been blessed to organize as part of the Trans Asylum Seeker Support Network to get transgender and genderqueer asylum seekers across the U.S./Mexico border, out of ICE detention, and set up with sponsors and support in western Massachusetts. This work has drawn me into a web of community I had previously only dreamed of (and cast spells for). We believe it is possible and necessary to abolish the police, abolish prisons, abolish capitalism. As a collective, we treat each other with kindness and encourage honesty in everything we do. We recognize that we need each other, and we act like it. What an immense gift to be surrounded by people who believe that a world without cages is possible, and to be fighting for it together. The more I connect and build with radical left activists, the more I realize we could have an entirely different world.

Part 3

And that is what I am sitting with in this moment. Everyone is calling it the apocalypse, and I don’t think that’s heavy handed. The word apocalypse comes from the Greek apokalupsis, from apokaluptein meaning ‘uncover, reveal.’ The whole world is seeing what was behind the curtain that is the mythology of capitalism.  There are extreme losses occurring in this process. Death abounds. This is heavy. And. In the shadow of death there is preciousness. On this, I think, my mother and I agree. Everything is cast in a softer light. The finiteness of life becomes more real. There is possibility for deep change, because the ultimate change looms so large. We feel the urgency of how totally unsustainable the current order of economic and social relations is. The working class is fed up, and recognizing that they have power.

I re-read the Revelation to John (aka the Book of Revelation) recently for the first time in years. I believe that the end of the world described there cannot be separated from the description of the downfall of the Roman empire. I choose to read it slant. I choose to queer it. I choose to cultivate a relationship with this apocalypse moment that centers weaving webs of care alongside on the ground organizing to bring about the downfall of our current empire. For me, it is the only way through.

[chiliscale]

12 Days Of Wincestmas for chiliscale. 

Day 2: That thing around your neck. 

I’m glad you like what I’ve wrote yesterday and I hope you like this one too ♥

I started to write this one thinking one thing but it lead to another ;)

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

Sam always was a curious mermaid. He usually was hidden behind the rocks to spy the people that spent time on the shore. He was curious about the extremities they had below their waists. He wanted to know what they were since he never saw anything like that before.

One day, something -or someone- else caught his attention and made him get out of the water more time than he should. There were because of a man who sat down with his feet playing with the crystal clear water of the ocean and sung a beautiful song. Always the same song.

What it caught his attention wasn’t this man’s voice only but his eyes too. He took his precautions when he went closer but it was worth it, his voice was better than the singing of one thousand mermaids. That night, once Sam returned home, he sang out loud at his chambers.

“You have a beautiful voice, just like your mother”, his father had said more proud of Sam than ever. But he didn’t know the reason behind the beautiful song of his only son. He would never agree with Sam having a relationship with a human so the younger mermaid had to hide his feelings inside his heart. Even so, Sam kept going the closest he can to the shore. It was dangerous to be out of the water but he wanted to see- He needed to see those man’s green eyes and sink into them.

—

One night he didn’t realize how much time he was off the water and he started to feel sick, breathless, but those eyes, those beautiful eyes… He couldn’t see anything else. He could die at that moment and he didn’t even care.

—

Sam felt hot water in the tip of his fingers and woke up immediately. He was surrounded by water inside a wrong shaped clam. He couldn’t swim but he could at least try.

“Finally you wake up”, he heard an unknown voice coming to him with a lamp. It was the man he always saw singing on the shore. “I was thinking that you were dead.” Sam couldn’t talk. He wanted but he couldn’t. Plus he went blank because in the dark of the night and the barely illuminated room this man it was shining like the full moon in the sky. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes.”

“Good”, the man said and sat down on an empty chair. ” Dean.”

“Dean?”

“My name. My name’s Dean. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Sam. Nice to meet you too… I’m sorry, this is kind of awkward but you’re not afraid of me?”

“Should I? Are you going to kill me or something?”

“I mean… My tail?”

“Yeah. I see it. It’s beautiful. There’s a problem with that? If you need more water, please, let me know.”

“I’m fine, thank you”, Sam responded splashing with his pearly tail.

“Cool.” While Sam was trying to swim in such a small place, Dean gazed at the mermaid’s necklace that reflected the light of the candle that was melting near to him. “What’s that?” Sam looked at him. “That thing around your neck.”

“It’s an amulet. A really powerful one. My mother gave it to me when I was a child.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Sam hesitated about the decision he was about to make. He could drag that man inside the deepest ocean just to keep him by his side. His selfish side could do that; but the kind one, the one who cared about the others talked louder, so he took his necklace off and gave it to Dean.

“Take it.”

“Please, don’t. That wasn’t what I meant…”

“I know, but you saved my life and this is my way to say thank you”, Dean took a while until he sat down next to Sam on the wet wooden floor and let the mermaid put that necklace around his neck. “Please, never take it off. This is my way to say I love you.”

Dean never could explain the sparkle inside Sam’s eyes. What he knew was that he was hypnotized by his look.

“I’ll never gonna do it. I promise you.”

—

A suddenly hit on one of his arms made Sam woke up. He shook his head and looked at Dean. He was pissed and he was frowning at him.

“What?”, he asked with a sleepy voice.

“You fell asleep.”

“I thought we were going to sleep.”

“We were going to watch a damn movie. That’s what we were going to do.”

“I had a dream”, Sam added caressing the wound that the Equalizer left on his shoulder after shooting Chuck.

“Tell me about it”, Dean encouraged him while he was eating popcorn.

“I dreamed I was a mermaid.”

“The ugly one or the sexy one?”

“The sexy one I guess. I was-”, Sam looked at Dean but he stopped talking when he realized something was missing. “Wait a minute” He jumped off the bed and started making a mess to Dean’s room -who wasn’t complaining he was enjoying the view of Sam bending over and under the desk. “Here you are”, Sam joined Dean and showed him what he was looking: the amulet he gave Dean one Christmas night.

“That thing?”

“It belongs to you.”

Dean sighed and smiled; without even say it, he let Sam put that amulet around his neck. Once he did, Dean looked at it.

“It seems like I didn’t see this thing in years…”

“Never take it off, please”, Sam begged.

Dean looked at his brother and he realized he was concerned.

“Did you dream something else?”

“Not at all. Just that.”

“Mermaids, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Why on Earth did you dream with mermaids if we were watching Aladdin?”

“Maybe it was because I wanted to watch The little mermaid.”

“It was my movie night.”

“This wasn’t a movie night. We watched a movie that you wanted to watch because- because-”

“Because I was pissed, say it.”

“Exactly.”

“Sammy, I don’t wanna believe you don’t know me, man. I don’t need some movie night to feel better. I just need… you.”

Sam couldn’t take off his eyes off Dean. They certainly always had a relationship beyond brotherhood, at least Sam felt that they were something else, but what they had built, the feeling he had for Dean… he didn’t even exist a name for it. He knew it was something beyond love. Dean’s words calmed him down and when Sam realized, he fell asleep next to Dean and had the best dream of his life.

******

Nonnie, this is wonderful! When the necklace first came up I immediately thought of the Samulet and then you made the connection too, and yelled yes so loud, that I woke up my poor dog :D (she got all the cuddles as an apology, so don´t worry about her). Oh, I would´ve loved to learn more about Sam and his underwater world (do you think he dreamed of a parallel universe?!) but I really enjoyed the connection to canon, too <3 (also, the thought of Sam and Dean having Disney-movie-nights is both really cute and really funny. Dean probably knows all the songs and likes to sing along, too - off key, of course, to annoy Sam). And, Winchester cuddles!!! I loved it, thank you so much! <3

[xgryffincrewe]

basics / introduction ;;

Was that LIANA LIBERATO I just saw walking down the hallways? Oh wait, no - that was CLYDEANE CREWE. The FEMALE is a 20 year old GRYFFINDOR who is in YEAR NINE. I heard the MUGGLEBORN has chosen to STAY NEUTRAL which explains why SHE is LIVELY and OPINIONATED, but also FOOLHARDY and STUBBORN. But who really knows? 

illness tw --> Despite being named after her two uncles, Clydeane has never had a solid male role model in her life. Her mother had delivered the small child when she was only 17 years old, and was entirely unsure of who the father was. Despite most’s advice to give the baby up and live her college years free, Clydeane’s mother refused to give her up. She didn’t give up school, either. In fact, Clydeane went to every day of school with her mother. During the middle of her mother’s final year year of her undergraduate, when Clydeane was only four years old, her mother had developed a strange illness and remained bedridden for the rest of the year in their home off campus. This was odd for Clydeane, as she was so used to going to classes and sitting down. She was used to having something to do. 

Despite the best efforts of doctors, Clydeane’s mother never left that bed for too long. They spent a majority of their resources getting care for her inside of the house. That left little Clydeane to her own devices a good chunk of the time. The young girl was restless, constantly exploring any new surrounding she could get her hands on. Needless to say, she was a troublemaker to say the least. But her mother adored her, and would call for her each night before bed so they could have dinner in bed together. It felt like a treat to her, and her mother always ended the night with a special message--no matter what she did, her mother would love her. 

On her eleventh birthday, Clydeane and her mother were incredibly shocked to find a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in their mailbox. The existence of magic was a surprise in its own, let alone the fact that someone from a nonmagical family could have magic. Still, it only took a few moments for Clydeane’s mother to decide that her daughter needed to go to this school, even if it was just to get away from the mess at home. After all, she wanted Clydeane to reach her fullest potential. So, after a few lies to her uncles and her primary school friends, Clydeane stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express on her way to a new life.

When it came time for sorting, the hat made an easy choice for her, not stalling for a minute–Gryffindor. She was bold, blunt, a little mischievous, and loyal to the people she cared for. She wrote her mother often and bothered her friends at inopportune times of the night. School was the gift that home couldn’t give. It was freeing, there was never nothing to do. Clydeane took on an attitude that she would try everything at least once, no matter how dangerous or stupid the idea seemed. It was intoxicating and she couldn’t get enough. She needed to try more and more. However, each time she went home, she took care of her mother and stayed at her house a lot, trying to spend as much time with the woman as she could. The older she got, the more she understood that her time with her mother was likely limited, and she needed to make the most of it.

Her mother is still alive, but weaker with each visit, and has never confided in her daughter what disease she’s ailing from. It bothered Clydeane so much that she began to study Healing at a young age, if only to help ease her mother’s pain once she was old enough. And, the second she was legal, that was what she did. Had it not been for the extended years at Hogwarts offering more training, she would’ve moved back home to care for her mother upon the end of her seventh year. 

Though she knows what her immediate plan is--to experience life as much as she can before she goes home to help her ailing mother, she has no idea what the future will hold for her. She doesn’t like thinking about a world without her mother in it. Still, she tries not to let that fact get her down too much. Her mother had always taught her to tackle life with a smile, so she does. Not many people know how sick her mom is as a result, only that they’re super close.

Clydeane has never known her father and does not want to. At one point, when she was fifteen, her uncle Dean told her that a man who potentially was her father had been asking about her, but she’d never seeked him out. In fact, she all but spit at him the dat he came to their doorstep. In her eyes, if they weren’t there to help her and her mother through all the bullshit, they weren’t shit.

Clydeane is pansexual and dates people pretty regularly, but never seems to be able to settle down with someone. Perhaps it was just her living life to the “fullest,” but she could never manage to sit still for too long. And big feelings scared her. Flings are what she does best, and friendships. She’ll happily flirt with anyone.

An early sign that she was a witch was when she turned all the flowers in her backyard her favorite color--a bright, firehouse red.

While she’s a Quidditch cheerleader, she’s a secret Quadpot fan. A sport where the balls explode in your face? Sign her up.

Quidditch: CHEER SQUAD BABEY Clubs: Duelling Club, Healers Club, Rainbow Club. Prefect: Nah Major: Healing Wanted Connections: Old exes, Current and Past flings, Close friends, A very good flirtationship, Someone she simply can’t stand, Someone to do reckless shit with her, all sorts of things, really

[alleiradayne]

Part VI - Recovery

Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel Novak Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, an argument Word Count: 1830  

The weekend passed in a haze of construction. Dean had returned to Castiel’s house on Saturday and Sunday to help with the bathroom, and, true to his word, proved excellent with his hands in more ways than one. Tight shoulder muscles stood no chance against his touch, much to Castiel’s relief.

It came as no surprise on Sunday evening when Dean asked him out on another date. A restaurant, he'd said, his favorite, one he'd found tucked away in the middle of town and highly underrated. With plans settled to meet, Castiel had looked forward to that moment all week.

And so, at seven o'clock the following Friday evening, Castiel rushed down the sidewalk as he searched for the strange, hidden entrance to the restaurant. He passed it twice before noticing the façade brick wall, circled behind it, and found the door.

A host greeted him and asked for a name. He gave Dean's and, with a quick check of the giant leather-bound book on the podium, the host beckoned Castiel follow him.

Around the corner, the restaurant flourished, a massive expanse of at least fifty tables in various sections with ceilings so high, indiscernible art teased at his imagination. Though he wore slacks and a tie, Castiel felt underdressed. People in their most formal gowns and suits, with several men in tuxedos sat at every table he passed. He tugged at the neck of his shirt and wished he had at least put on a sport coat. God, he hadn’t even bothered buffing his boots. An absent-minded hand smoothed his unruly hair, hoping to tame the odd cowlicks and curls.

The tiny table hidden in a dark corner of the restaurant might have been the host’s way of hiding him from the other patrons. But when he spotted Dean as he stood from the table, every concern of Castiel’s had fled in an instant.

Black boots, slim dark grey slacks, a black shirt, and black tie comprised of Dean’s ensemble. Stunned, Castiel stared, the host forgotten. The restaurant itself ceased to exist. For one, infinitesimal moment, there was only Dean.

“Cas?”

Castiel hadn't seen Dean move, but there he stood, his whispered breath on Castiel’s neck and his confident touch at the back of his arm. Gooseflesh raced along his back in a shiver, and he sighed so loud, Dean checked the host over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he asked, his glare fading when he looked Castiel in the eye. “Are you alright?”

How could answer that honestly? No, Dean, I'm not alright, the sight of you and your fitted pants and huge shoulders make me weak in the knees. “I'm fine,” Castiel muttered. “Just… a little light headed. Been a long day.”

“Then sit,” Dean insisted as he pulled out a chair and the host floated away on long strides. “Did something happen? You look… your face is a little red.”

“Is it?” Castiel asked with a crooked smile as he sat. “God, I'm too old for this, I need a drink.”

Dean blinked at that, momentarily caught off guard. But then he smiled a knowing grin, leaned in, and whispered, “You look great, Cas.” As he stood, the brush of his lips on Castiel’s cheek extracted another deep sigh from him. “I'll go get us a few drinks from the bar. Scotch?”

Castiel nodded, the only response he could give, and with that, Dean disappeared.

Whether seconds or minutes passed, Castiel wasn’t sure. The only passage of time he marked was the incessant chimes of Dean's phone left at the table. After the fifth text message, Castiel's curiosity piqued. By the seventh message he scowled. And when the tenth alert sounded, he worried.

Who texted someone that much? Insidious whispers of possible people perforated Castiel’s subconscious, hints of other dates, of other interests. And why wouldn't Dean date around? Young guy like him probably had to fight them off.

When the next message came in, Castiel snatched the phone from the table. Without unlocking it, he read the preview and immediately regretted it

See you tomorrow, Dad! Love you!

Dad.

No. It had to be a nickname. He played softball and was the oldest guy on the team, looked out for everyone. He volunteered for youth groups. He sang in a choir.

Love you!

He put the phone back down exactly as he had found it and not a minute too soon. Dean rounded the corner with their drinks, his brilliant smile wide and sparkling. “Sorry, bar is three people deep.”

The Batman action figure raced to the front of his mind before Castiel responded. “Thanks.”

Dean sat and handed his drink to Castiel, then picked up his phone. Castiel did his best to sip from his glass but watched from the rim of his glass as Dean read his messages.

His smile softened into one so familiar, Castiel’s heart galloped. He too had worn that smile many times over the years on many amazing days. Jean’s first smile. First laugh. First step. First day of school. He found himself grinning at those memories until understanding crashed into him with the force of a speeding truck.

Dean was a father.

When Castiel considered everything-the house, the Batman figure, the odd explanations, the early work hours-it all made sense. Dean had at least one child, if not two, given the number of spare rooms in his house. All manner of questions raced through his head, each fighting for dominance, until the ultimate question wedged its way to the fore.

Why? Why had Dean not told him? As soon as the question occurred to him, Castiel had his answer. He, too, had kept Jean a secret. Dean must feel the same way about his children.

“Cas?” Dean asked. “You’re really quiet. What’s the deal?”

A nervous glance at Dean’s phone nearly gave him away when Dean followed his gaze. With a shake of his head, he said, “Uh… nothing. Like I said, long day.” He hefted his glass and held it out to Dean. “To date number four?”

Dean beamed at that as he picked up his glass. “So the bar was a date, then.”

It wasn’t a question. “I figured since it went so well, I might as well count it,” Castiel said with a smile of his own and Dean laughed his loud, full laugh, head thrown back and a hand on his stomach.

When his laughter subsided, Dean clicked his glass against Castiel’s and said, “To us.”

As Castiel opened his mouth, Dean’s phone chimed again. It took all Castiel’s willpower to hold his smile and reply.

“To us.”

Though Castiel did his best to take that toast to heart, invasive thoughts teased at the edges of his mind the entire evening. Dinner came and went with nominal conversation, but suspicions kept Castiel from focusing. A part of him wanted to come clean, to confess to hiding a part of himself, but then his better judgment would convince him otherwise. It wasn’t until after dessert—a giant piece of pumpkin pie—that Castiel caught his sullen mood. But by then it was too late. Confused disappointment clouded Dean’s eyes, no longer their bright green, but a turbulent ocean of mottled grey.

With the bill paid—split down the middle—Dean stood and grabbed his coat. “I guess I’ll see you at work?”

Castiel followed but left his coat on the back of his chair. “I… Dean, look, I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted all night.”

Dean shrugged with a short frown “It’s fine. I get it,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You’ve got a lot going on. I do, too.”

“No, you don’t…” Castiel stuttered, “I had a good time tonight. Thank you,” he said as he stepped closer to Dean only for him to shy away.

“You sure you had fun?” Dean asked as he glared. “Didn’t seem like I had your complete attention.”

A sting tingled in his cheeks as Castiel bristled with anger. “You did have my complete attention. I could say the same about you and your damn text messages,” he spat. “Who do you text all the time?”

Dean shrugged on his coat and turned on his heel for the door. “No one!” Dean barked over his shoulder. “Friends, family. Mind your own damn business.”

Damn. Castiel grabbed his coat and tossed it over a shoulder as he skipped a step to chase after Dean. “Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything.”

Out in the chill night air, Dean rounded on Castiel and shouted, “Then why ask me who I’m texting?! What difference does it make?”

“You got on my case for being distracted!” he retorted. “You were distracted, too.”

Dean huffed an exaggerated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “I… I was. I’m sorry. It was my brother. I’m sorry, I’m just scared.”

Castiel closed the space between them, desperate. He needed to feel him, be near him in such a fragile moment. He hated the fact that Dean felt the need to lie to him, but he understood. Castiel was many things but a hypocrite was not one of them. He took Dean’s hand in his own and pulled him close as he slipped his other hand around his broad shoulders.

“It’s okay, Dean,” he whispered. “I get it. I’m scared, too.”

Nothing compared to the sensation of Dean’s touch, so insistent, so needy as they grasped his hips. He held Castiel so close, his hands settled at the small of his back beneath his coat, Castiel felt the heavy thrum of his heart against his chest. A ragged sigh dragged past his lips as he muttered, “I’m so sorry.”

He wished more than anything that Dean felt safe enough with him to share his family. “Me, too,” Castiel replied despite his feelings. “Me, too.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Dean said as he leaned back. “Next weekend?”

Castiel nodded as he licked his lips, drawing Dean’s attention. “Sure,” he said. “Your place again?”

Dean, too, licked his lips. “Yeah,” he sighed as he neared, eyes closing and a hand slipping to the back of his neck.

Castiel met him halfway, their lips connecting in a soft touch that smoldered with a heat trapped beneath the surface. It begged for release, for attention and care, but Castiel tightened the lid. He wasn’t ready. And neither was Dean. But his lips, God, his tongue flooded Castiel with a desire he’d not felt in years. When Dean smoothed his hand from his back to his ass, Castiel startled and parted from him with a gasp.

“Sorry,” Dean started, “I got—”

“Do not,” Castiel interrupted. “Do not apologize for that. Never apologize for that.”

There it was, the return of Dean’s devious grin a welcomed sight. “Next weekend?”

“Your place?” Castiel repeated.

Dean nodded. “Eight?”

“I’ll be there.”

Castiel watched as Dean walked away, his judgment yet in conflict with his heart.

[my-proof-is-you]

Healing You - Ch. 1

Summary: You were pretty close to dying, you were sure. It was going to be over, and what would you have to show for it?

A great career as a nurse, sure. But you lacked passion and romance in your life.

Luckily, a handsome man with piercing green eyes saves you. While you were sure you’d never see him again, life had other plans for you.

Chapter 1

You rolled your eyes and blinked harshly in pain when you felt the needle hit muscle instead of your vein.

This moron—whatever he was—could not find a vein for the life of him. Being that you were a nurse, you were tempted to snatch it away from him and do it yourself. Even if that would be aiding in your own death.

You took a deep breath as he prepared to insert the needle again, the dank smell of the basement filling your nostrils. You were certain that with each breath there were mold spores finding their way into your lungs.

You shifted your eyes away from your bruised arm and the imbecile that caused it and focused on the girl in the chair a few feet away. She was hanging on by a thread, the blood loss too great to keep her conscious. You knew that at any moment she could stop breathing.

“Oh, my God, you would think you’d be an expert at this by now!” you yelled angrily at the thing. It bore its fangs at you before slapping your face with the back of his hand.

You knew it was stupid to say anything, but you just couldn’t handle the incompetence. You had been named head nurse at the hospital where you worked at a fairly young age. You were good at your job, and the hospital recognized that. Every nursing student you had taught since then could find a patient’s vein on the first try. They practiced on countless oranges and each other until you knew they were experts at drawing blood and inserting IVs.

So watching this douche who was going to kill you anyway was almost too much to bear.

He finally got it and you watched as your warm blood filled the tube that was connected to a blood bag. He walked up the creaky wooden stairs before pushing open the cellar door. A short burst of light came in and you knew it was still daytime. Which day, though, was something you weren’t sure of.

You were pretty sure they were vampires. You gave yourself about thirty seconds to freak out about their existence when they first captured you before making yourself accept it and move on.

These vampires were not what you expected, though. It seemed that they captured people, slowly collected their blood, and disposed of them when they died. It was unlike any story of vampires you had heard before. These vampires didn’t bite into your neck to suck your blood, or turn into bats, or even seem all that affected by sunlight.

You started to feel woozy from the loss of blood and you knew it would only be a day or two more before you were looking like the girl next to you. She had been conscious a few times here or there and you had been able to find out that she had been captured only a few days before you.

They had been giving you water, presumably to keep you alive longer and keep you producing blood for the time being. You knew, though, that it would be too hard for them to keep up with after a while, and they would let you die.

You hadn’t thought about death for a long time. As a nurse, you saw death a lot. But your own death was something you thought wouldn’t come until you were old.

Before you knew that you wanted to be a nurse—when you were still pretty young—you couldn’t picture yourself doing any job when you grew up. Most kids said they wanted to be a fireman or a dentist. But not you. You were oddly morbid as a child, and your little mind thought that maybe not knowing what you wanted to do meant that you wouldn’t get the chance to grow up—that maybe you were going to die at a young by age.

Maybe I was right, you think to yourself. This would definitely still be considered dying young. Of course, you found your calling when you graduated high school, and after you went to nursing school and got your RN you never looked back. At the age of 27, you were pretty pleased with your life.

The one thing that bummed you out, though—besides the no longer living part—was that you didn’t feel that you ever met your one true love.

You had boyfriends in the past, but none of them were long term and most turned out to be jerks. You never knew true passion, and that was definitely something you regretted while facing death.

Little black spots began to appear in your vision, and you knew unconsciousness was coming soon. You didn’t fight it. You just let it take you away from your worries and regrets and into the silence.

Dean

“Dude, ten missing people in two weeks. That sounds pretty monster-y to me.”

Dean shoved the newspaper in his little brother’s face, aching to get out of the bunker and on a hunt.

“Yeah, that’s weird, but what if it’s just a serial killer?” Sam asked.

“Either way!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “We’ve dealt with monsters and bat-shit humans before. I’m just sayin, we gotta get out of here or I’m gonna lose it,” he continued, wiping a hand down his face. 

It had been two weeks since the brothers’ last hunt, and Dean had grown tired of the dark walls of the underground bunker they lived in. He wanted—no, needed—to get out and drive his baby, his beloved Impala.

Sam ran his hands through his chestnut hair with a sigh. “Okay. But if it’s another bunch of crazies like the Benders, we’re out of there.”

Sam had been kidnapped by a crazy cannibal family in the past, and Dean understood his caution toward that happening again. He also somehow knew in his gut that this wasn’t the work of humans, though.

Dean practically jumped with happiness when Sam said they could go, and he grabbed his keys and his go-bag before rushing to the garage door like an excited puppy. He didn’t even care if that was how he came off. He just needed to be in his car with his windows down and music blaring.

A few hours later they were pulling up to an old house off a dirt road after talking to several locals. They had figured out that there were some newcomers in the small town, and they hadn’t gone unnoticed. When they had been questioned about the kidnappings from the local police, they came up clean. Sam and Dean knew better, though. Many monsters knew how to blend in and what to say to throw off suspicion.

They knocked cracked wooden front door to the house and waited for someone to answer. When no one did, they decided to snoop around the side of the house and see if they could see through any windows.

All the windows were covered except for one spot where a blanket had been moved, causing a small corner view into the house. Dean wiped the dust from the window with his sleeve and looked inside.

It was dark inside the house. The window showed into the living room, where five men were sleeping in different spots. Some were on a big, ratty couch and some were on the floor. Dean was thankful that they hadn’t heard when he and Sam knocked on the door.Just from the fact that they were all sleeping during the day he was nearly positive that they were vampires. Getting any living hostages out would be a lot easier with them asleep since they could get in and kill them while they slept.

Sam and Dean got in and took off all the vamps’ heads quickly and with little effort. They searched the house, but didn’t find any hostages. In fact, they didn’t even find any bodies or traces of blood.

“Dean!” Sam called from the kitchen.

Dean walked in with his machete ready just in case. Sam was standing in front of the refrigerator, the door open wide. Inside, where there should have been food, were piles and piles of blood bags.

“What kind of weirdo vamps were these?” Dean asked, picking up one of the bags.

“I don’t know, but we know these didn’t come from a hospital. They must have been taking blood from the victims and storing it.”

“Which means some of them might still be alive,” Dean concluded.

“But we checked everywhere, Dean. Where else could they be?” Sam asked.

Dean thought back over every inch of the house. He even thought about the outside, which was when he remembered seeing a cellar door.

“The cellar,” he said quietly. Both brothers immediately ran outside. When they reached the cellar door it was padlocked, but a quick trip to the Impala later they had the lock cut open.

They crept down the stairs in case any more vamps were there. 

Sam and Dean split up when they reached the bottom, each one untying a victim from their chair.

Dean knelt down when he had you untied. He lightly tapped your face, trying to see if he could get you to come to.

After a few moments, your y/e/c eyes fluttered open and landed on Dean.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not a vampire,” Dean explained quickly. You looked skeptical but nodded as you noticed that you were untied.

“You have to get me over there,” you said in a raspy voice. Dean’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. He followed your gaze over to the other victim, a young blonde that Sam was still trying to wake.

You started to get up and Dean watched as you wobbled. He quickly stood up as well and wrapped an arm around your waist to help support you. When you reached the girl you immediately put your fingers to her neck.

“Her pulse is thready. She won’t make it much longer. We have to get her to a hospital,” you said. Sam and Dean just stared at you, surprised. You looked back and forth between the men, your hand going to your hip. “Now!” you yelled. The brothers swept into action, Sam picking the girl up and carrying her up the stairs, while Dean continued to help you walk.

“Those things dead?” You asked quietly after you were up the stairs and Dean walked you to the car.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Thank you—“ you gestured questioningly.

“Dean,” he filled in for you.

“Dean,” you finished, nodding. Your face was serious, but Dean noticed that it lacked any fear. “I’m Y/N.”

[supernatural-squadd]

Wash It Away

Winchester Sister Imagine

TRIGGER WARNING: Heavy depression thoughts, verbal suicidal tendencies

Requested by: @rilezra  "I'm feeling shit and desperate so i request a shitty desperate reader begging the winchesters to kill her to stop the pain she experiences on the daily with some sort of good ending that doesn't actually end with them killing her, rather them helping her?"           

A/N: For anyone experiencing any of these problems or any problems at all, this is a judgment free zone and I'm a great listener.

@rliezra: I made it a sister fic, hope that's alright!

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The hopeless feeling that swelled inside of your chest expanded as your tears continued to fall fast and hard. The entire feeling consumed you, overwhelmed your mind and body in every aspect. Leaving a crumpled up girl curled up atop her bed, clenching onto her pillow so tight the fabric might break. The same comforting pillow softened the tears from falling a distance, quieted the sobs and desperate silent cries for help. Your mouth stay opened, pushing out a thick line of air as though you were screaming at this invisible inner pain that continued to destroy you eternally, however, no sound came out as the tears dripped from your swollen eyes.

You'd been like this all night, quietly allowing your mind to destroy you as there seemed to be no more of a will for anything lurking inside. Sleep was beyond impossible, unless it was permanent and everlasting. Yet somehow being a Winchester almost ensured your two brothers, or Cas, would certainly find a way to bring you back and force you to live this existence you so badly felt the need to escape.

As tears silently fell, the silent patting of footsteps got closer to your room, but they were inaudible to you over the sound of your heart crumbling into a million small pieces.

Sam knocked lightly, trying to test to see if you were awake, instead he heard a small sniffle as you turned your body to pretend as though you still slept. While he wanted to rush in and come to whatever aid you required, he knew you always responded to Dean better than himself. Dean had practically raised not only Sam, but you as well. Sam and Dean had an undeniable bond, everyone in the entire universe and every conceivable universe knew that, but when you were a child and your tiny hand curled around his finger, everyone knew this would be everlasting.

It was 5am, Sam was headed out for his jog, but now seeing he was delayed and concerned, he went to Dean's bedroom instead, not even bothering to knock. Dean was always a light sleeper, so naturally when his door opened, so did his tired green eyes with a shock. Under no circumstances was it smart to wake the beast that was a sleeping Dean, but in all honesty, the boys had been down this road with you before, they knew it was literal life or death in the past and feared for the same this time around.

"It's Y/N." Sam immediately spoke, hoping Dean would register that in his brain his sister needed him in a bad way.

These were the only words that would make it acceptable to wake up Dean Winchester at any hour. He and Sam both made haste to your room where Dean quietly put his ear to your door listening as you silently sobbed into your pillow. With ease he opened the door, peering in at your sobbing form all bundled up and tightly hugging your pillow.

He didn’t say a word, just sat down on your bed and began rubbing your back softly, trying to let you know he was there whenever you were ready. His loving brotherly touch only made your heart ache more and tears fall thicker than before. The heartbreaking sounds emitting from your broken body only crushed your brothers souls more. They wanted nothing more than to help you, but sometimes things can't be fixed with words. Words are like the glue that hold us together, hugs and physical presence is what keeps that glue from melting away or crumbling.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dean's half asleep half awake groggy voice filled the room, vibrating your bones as though each sound he made echoed off of them and into your heart.

Without words you simply shook your head, rolling to your side a little to see your brothers faces. Sam in the doorway, looking afraid, and Dean who just looked like someone had stabbed him in his chest.  Just looking upon your face he could see how broken you were, how far you'd fallen off the wagon. He wasted no time forcing his arm under your shoulders, pushing himself onto the bed, motioning you to roll over and to lay in his arms while he sat up.

"Do you hear my heartbeat?" He said, brushing random strays of hair out of your face while his other arm held you tight. "Just focus on that, okay?" His voice was even more so echoing now that you lay on his chest.

Sam watched the two of you, watched how dead you looked in your eyes, how blank and unfeeling your stare was. This is what concerned him most of all. Dean gave his brother a once over nod, letting him know you would be okay with him, and reluctantly Sam left the room.

"Can I ask you a favor?" You spoke with such a hoarse and low tone from crying for so long. "I want you to kill me." The words rolled off of your tongue as though they were nothing. "I can't do it myself, I don't want to be here anymore. I can't be here anymore. I hate it."

Dean sat you up instantly, his face forged with confusion, sadness and anger all in one, but mainly anger.

"How are you even asking me this right now?" He roughly said, this time speaking a little louder than he was before. Completely ignoring the fact you squinted your eyes in pain at the raising of his voice, indicating you had a bad migraine.

"I'm tired of fighting, I just-"

"You just what?" He cut you off in total, his voice still loud with mixed emotions. "You just plan on giving up? Leaving Sammy? Leaving me?" There was a sense of more hurt in his words near the last, how dare you even think about leaving him. He who had given up majority of his life to keep you safe and alive, loosing the fight so easily and to yourself no less.

"Please stop yelling.' Your hand reached up and connected with your throbbing temple.

"This is serious, this isn't some joke, this is your life." His voice began to lower slightly, after he took a deep breath it went back to a normal tone. "You're life may now have value to yourself right now, but it'll always have value to me. So even when you stop fighting for yourself, I'll be there still, fighting for you. Do you know why?" Dean waited until your eyes shifted and painfully met his. "Because dammit you are worth fighting for."

It took a moment for you to find words, find a self will even if it wasn't that strong. Still you sat up in front of him, hair a mess, eyes puffy with pain, hands weak from the loss of so much emotion, but still you knew he was right.

"I swear I'm trying." You half scoffed out with only air. "I just can't breathe anymore, every second I'm alive I feel like I'm drowning. Physically, I have the world: You, Cas and Sammy. Mentally? I have nobody."

"Let me help you breathe, let me help clear the air somehow. I'm sure as hell not going anywhere, and neither are you." Dean's hand found a fitting over the top of yours while he looked for some form of understanding in your eyes. "Promise me that when you can't fight for yourself, you'll at least let me continue to fight for you. That you won't give up on me even when you've given up on yourself."

Once you nodded, silently whispering that you promised and allowing Dean to kiss your temple and pull you back into his chest.

Only was it hours later did Sam come check on the two of you, finding you with a peaceful face now dry from tears and one big brother who held onto you both physically and mentally, refusing to let you go.

[imagineteamfreewill]

Light

Title: Light

Pairing: Reader x Dad!Cas

Word Count: 2,031

Warnings: None

Theme Song: Light by Sleeping At Last

Summary: Nephilim aren’t supposed to exist, but thanks to Cas, now one does.

A/N: This is the third installment of a series of one shots based on this song. I hope you enjoy reading them all as much as I enjoyed writing them! Please leave feedback!

EDITED 6-21-20

X

So Much More Than Perfect | No More Words

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Angels weren’t supposed to have children. It was a well-known fact throughout all planes of existence that the child of an angel would be both powerful and dangerous, and as no angel had ever fallen hard enough for a human to try and create another being with them, the threat of a nephilim was more of a cautionary tale than a real-life emergency. At least, it was until Castiel met Y/N.

He’d fallen head over heels for her almost immediately after meeting her on a hunt with Sam and Dean. Her soul was so pure that it had taken him by surprise when they first encountered each other, and Cas had the strong urge to get to know her better. They’d worked together on a hunt while the boys had taken on another, and soon after that, Y/N had announced to all three men that she was pregnant. It had come as a shock to her two best friends, but Castiel was the most alarmed of all. Being pregnant with an angel’s child put her in extreme danger, even more so because it was his child. His brothers and sisters already weren’t pleased with him, but producing a nephilim? That was just another excuse for them to raise the price on his head. 

Cas had immediately enlisted the Winchester brothers to help keep Y/N from hunting, and though they weren’t successful the majority of the time, Cas had tried to reassure himself that every hunt she stayed behind on was another monster’s lost opportunity to harm her. He’d also completely monster- and baby-proofed the bunker. He’d restored the broken wardings, and even put up new, more obscure ones. Sam had assisted him with them, and Cas had taken the chance to ask him questions about human children. Though Sam didn’t have much first-hand experience with children, the information that Cas gleaned from him was enough to tell him that the child would be a handful, especially if it took after Y/N in any way, shape, or form.

Now, however, his initial panic seemed foolish. The baby in his arms was tiny, almost too small in his opinion, and though Cas could sense the grace and the potential power she possessed in her soul, he could also tell that she was good. She was more than good; her soul was so pure and so similar to Y/N’s that Cas found himself wondering if his daughter was more a carbon copy of Y/N than she was a product of both their DNA.

“Cas,” Y/N whispered.

Cas looked up from Caris’ face and turned to face Y/N, who was half-asleep in her bed. She gave him a sleepy smile and beckoned him over.

“Are you okay if I go to sleep?” she asked, her voice no more than a wisp of sound.

Cas nodded in response and leaned down, carefully balancing Caris in his arms as he pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“Rest,” he murmured. “I can take care of her. She’s my daughter.”

“I know. I just wanted to check,” Y/N replied. “I’m so happy that she has a father as great as you.”

Warmth and pride filled Cas’ heart as he straightened up and watched Y/N close her eyes and drift off to sleep. He hadn’t realized she was so happy about having his child. She had expressed her excitement, of course, but Cas hadn’t realized that her happiness would extend even after the birth.

“You’re going to be a handful,” Cas whispered, looking down at the small bundle in his arms. Caris peered up at him curiously, her bright blue eyes almost glowing with the untapped grace inside of her.

“There is so much good inside of you,” he murmured. “You’re going to be able to help so many people and bring so much light to this world, Caris. I already know that your mother and I will be so proud of you.”

A thread of emotion wound its way through his mind, and Cas blinked in surprise. The emotions weren’t his—they were Caris’. She was happy, and she knew exactly who he was just by the sound of his voice and the bright, angelic grace that filled him.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and Cas sucked in a breath, trying to will them away. Angels didn’t cry; crying was just his vessel’s involuntary response to the overwhelming love he was feeling towards his newborn daughter. Cas failed at holding them back, however, and a single tear ran down his cheek and fell onto the soft, pink blanket that Y/N had used to swaddle their baby. 

“Did you know your name means grace?” Cas asked, sniffling. Another tear fell and he gave her a watery smile. “Your mother picked it out. She was so excited to tell me when she found it in an old book that she woke your uncles up calling for me.”

Caris cooed softly and wiggled in her blanket, and after a moment Cas sat down in the beautiful wooden rocking chair that Jody had given them for the nursery down the hall. It was in their room for now, but as soon as Y/N was comfortable leaving Caris in the nursery overnight, Cas would move it there.

Cas carefully unwrapped the blanket from around his daughter, then smiled when Caris immediately lifted her arms towards him. Babies weren’t supposed to be able to do that, he knew, but he’d expected Caris to progress and grow faster than a normal child because of her grace.

Glancing up at Y/N, Cas scooped up his daughter and held her against him, letting her feel both his heartbeat and the grace flowing through him. She reached out over his shoulder with one hand, and for a brief moment Cas felt her miniature fingers brush over the singed and broken feathers that edged his wings.

“I can’t wait to show you the world,” Cas whispered as her head came to rest on his shoulder, her small, round cheek squished against the fabric of his dress shirt. “You’re going to love it here. Humans are remarkable and beautiful, and I can’t wait to see you grow up. I’ve never watched a child grow up before.” Caris cooed in response, and Cas listened in silence to the sound of her heartbeat slowing as she finally nodded off in his arms.

When she’d finally fallen asleep, he swaddled her once more, then stood and went out into the hallway. He closed the bedroom door behind him and made his way to the library, where Sam and Dean were waiting for him.

“Is she asleep?” Sam asked.

Cas nodded. “Yes, Y/N is sleeping. They both are.”

Dean’s eyes were focused on the pink bundle Cas was holding against himself. “So what do we got? She got any grace?”

“Dean,” Sam scolded, shooting his older brother a look. He clearly didn’t want to upset Cas with any talk of heaven’s anger at his daughter’s birth.  

Cas shook his head. “It’s okay, Sam. Yes, my daughter does possess a small amount of grace. Right now it is only enough to assist her movement and to let her communicate with me—”

“Your daughter talked to you?” Dean interrupted.

“Not exactly,” Cas explained, glancing down at Caris. “She… expressed her emotions to me. I felt what she felt.”

“Like empathetic angel radio,” Sam interjected.

“Yes, exactly.”

Dean nodded slowly, thinking. After a long moment, he asked, “Can I hold her?”

Involuntarily, Cas clutched Caris closer to his chest. He hadn’t expected to be asked to give up his daughter to anyone so soon. Even if it was only Sam and Dean, the thought of trusting someone else with Caris’ safety was terrifying.

The boys immediately picked up on his reaction, and Sam said, “It’s okay, Cas. You don’t have to let us hold her right now. Can we at least see her?”

That seemed like a better option, and Cas nodded in agreement. He stepped further into the library and met the boys halfway, then held Caris out for them to see.

A soft smile graced Dean’s face when he saw her tiny face. “She definitely looks like Y/N,” he murmured, glancing up at Cas for a brief second. “She have blue eyes, too?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. You can see her grace in them if you look carefully, but that will fade as she learns to control it.”

Sam smiled at his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder in lieu of a hug. “Congratulations, man,” he said. “You’re gonna be a great dad.”

“Do you really think so?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded in agreement with Sam. “Hell yeah. Caris is lucky to have you as her dad, Cas.”

Smiling, Cas looked back down at his daughter. She was sleeping soundly, and if he focused hard enough, he could see snippets of her dreams. Brief snapshots of his face and Y/N’s, as well as their voices and the sound of Y/N’s heartbeat, filled his mind for a moment. 

“I’m going to keep her safe,” he said, looking up at Sam and Dean. “I expect that you’ll do the same.”

“Of course,” Sam agreed, his eyes serious. “We’ll all protect her, Cas. She’s our niece.”

Cas nodded, feeling relieved that the boys were onboard. After a second, he continued, “When I first held her, I cried. Is that normal for human fathers?”

Sam gave him a soft smile and squeezed his shoulder, then dropped his hand back down to his side. “Yeah, Cas, it is. She’s your kid and you love her. You’ve got a special connection with her.”

“I’m well aware of the bond between fathers and their children, yes,” Cas replied, turning his attention back to Caris. “I’m going to try to give her the best of everything, just like all the other fathers I’ve watched.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Cas,” Dean agreed. “You should get her back to your room. Y/N might wonder where you guys are if she wakes up and you’re gone.”

Cas nodded again and let the boys take another look at her before he turned and headed back towards his and Y/N’s room. As he walked, he thought of all the things he wanted to show Caris. The Grand Canyon, Central Park, the mountains… There were so many places and so many people that he wanted to introduce her to that Cas was sure it would take several lifetimes. 

Lost in thought, Cas didn’t notice that Caris had woken up once more. This time, however, she wasn’t the silent, perfect angel that she had first been. She wasn’t used to her new environment, and she began to cry as Cas neared the bedroom door.

Unsure of what to do, Cas stopped and stood still for a moment, wracking his brain for something that would help. He could sense that Caris was upset about her separation from Y/N, but after a second, Cas remembered something he’d seen parents all over the world do to calm down their crying babies. So, Cas began to bounce and sway as he walked down the hallway, passing by the bedroom in the process. When Caris continued to cry despite the movement, Cas tried to sing a Led Zeppelin song that he knew Y/N had frequently listened to while pregnant, and after a few minutes, Caris was no longer crying. Instead, she was watching him with great interest, her blue eyes fixated on his lips as they formed the words.

Cas knew his voice wasn’t the greatest, but as he felt his daughter’s eyes on him, he realized that it didn’t matter to her. She would see the best in people, at least for now, just as he had always tried to. To her, he was everything right now, and the thought of that made his heart swell. He had a daughter, and though she was supposed to be dangerous and threatening, Cas knew deep down that the tiny bundle in his arms was good. She was good, and she was his.

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[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

In The Forest, pt2

Word Count: 1997 Tags: open @bkwrm523 

It may as well have been an earthquake, it rocked your perception of reality so badly. Every crazy word you’d disregarded from your Poppa, every spooky summer camp out story he’d told over the fire before bed, every bump in the night, every spook and spectre, every last one of them was real, if the two handsome men in front of you were truly the Winchester boys. Half of Poppa’s insane ramblings started with explaining about John Winchester and his boys. You’d always just passed it off as Poppa getting a little touched from being out in the woods alone after Nan had passed, but there were two men in front of you claiming to be the source of the old man’s tales.

“Since we’re all friends now, maybe you could put that down?” Dean nodded at the shotgun still in your hand. You blinked slowly and carefully ejected the round from the chamber, laying the shotgun down on the table. “You know how to use that. That’s a relief.”

“Of course I do,” you snapped. “Now, kindly explain what you’re doing squatting in my cabin?”

“If Jed Olsen is your Poppa, I’m guessing you’re Y/N,” Sam commented. “How much did he tell you?”

“If you boys truly exist, I’m guessing I know plenty,” you retorted. “Poppa liked to scare us kids when we spent summers out here.”

“So if I said we were here because we’re on a case?” Dean asked. You felt your stomach clench with anxiety. He noticed. “You know enough, it seems.”

“I’m gonna need a minute. Can you guys maybe, I don’t know, go away and let me process this?” You asked.

“Go away?” Dean laughed. “Sweetheart, we’re hunting a wendigo. We’re not going to leave you alone in this cabin.”

“Don’t they have to be invited in? Didn’t Poppa somehow make this consecrated ground or something?” You asked. Sam just smirked, but Dean laughed again.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re adorable.”

“You know what? Fuck off. Get off my property,” you snapped, overwhelmed, irritated and wanting to lash out at someone for making your world so goddamn weird in a heartbeat. “I’ll deal with the, uh, fandango on my own.”

“Wendigo,” Sam corrected you gently, as Dean set off into another fit of laughter. You picked up the shotgun and chambered the round, pointing it at Dean.

“I said get the fuck off my property,” you growled. “I wasn’t kidding.”

Dean held his hands up and backed toward the door, nodding for Sam to follow. Sam paused at the icebox and scribbled something on the notepad hanging from the side of it.

“Look, Y/N, if you need anything -”

“I won’t, but thanks,” you interrupted. You stopped short of tearing up the phone number, however, because at least Sam had tried to be polite. Dean, on the other hand… Infuriating. Which figured because he was far and away the sexier of the two of them. Sam looked kind, and like the kind of man who’d be gentle. Dean looked like rough sex and regret. It was much more your speed to go for the bad boy, which made you all the angrier about their invasion of your space. You didn’t need complications, you didn’t need hunters and you certainly didn’t need Dean Winchester making your life difficult.

While you fumed in the centre of the small cabin, you heard the rumble of an engine turning over and looked out the window. An absolutely stunning, mint condition ‘67 Impala was backing out. You locked eyes with Dean one more time and he scowled at you. Rolling your eyes, you once again unloaded the shotgun and returned it to your bedside. You checked the propane, lighting the pilot on the stove and setting the large kettle to boil on the stove while you popped outside to the woodpile to grab a load of wood for the woodstove that heated the A-frame.

Once the fire was lit, you connected your cellphone to the charging block you brought out. The signal was weak, but you’d installed a booster a month or so back and it gave you enough range to call out in emergencies. Something about the appearance of the Winchester brothers made you want to be certain the damn thing was charged. You hummed to yourself, out of tune, as you prepared your favourite camp dinner - mac and cheese and weiners.

You were staring at the wall, chewing, swallowing, repeating, eyes tracing the same pattern in the wood grain that you’d always been mesmerized by as a child. It was a series of knots, each in separate logs that formed a kind of star. There was an off-colour wearline between the knots where you’d traced your finger, over and over again as a little girl, an exercise in self soothing when Poppa was telling you spooky stories. You stopped chewing suddenly, your jaw hanging slack.

“Son of a -” you trailed off as you stood up and walked to the wall. Tracing your fingers along the grooves that you’d worn into the wood yourself, you realized there was no way those knots had just happened to align that way by coincidence. One of the knots was slightly depressed compared to the others, and with a tug and little bit of exertion, you were able to pop open a hidden compartment in the wall. Rather than reach in blindly, you waved a flashlight in the cubbyhole, revealing a leatherbound notebook. You pulled it out and blew the dust off the cover. Poppa’s monogram was on the front corner.

Food forgotten, you retreated up to your bedroom in the loft, dimming the lights on the main floor and pulling up the trapdoor stairs. You turned the small battery operated lamp on at your bedside and started the flip through the yellowed pages of the journal. It was an encyclopedia, it appeared, of disjointed tales about monsters, each creature having at least a page or two dedicated to it. Where Poppa had seen it, what it was, how to injure and kill it, what it was capable of doing, why it was dangerous, and perhaps, most terrifyingly, each entry had a list of dates and locations about where Poppa had encountered the things. It was, like everything in Poppa’s life had been, meticulously organized and catalogued.

Out of morbid curiosity and filled with dread, you flipped until you found the Wendigo entry. Reading the information your grandfather collected made your stomach turn, and you cringed at some of the detail. You skipped past a description of a body Poppa’d found and checked the list of when he’d encountered the horror. A notation beside the last date made your blood run cold.

‘It appears the Wendigo of the family forest appears every nineteen years. Hunt of 1999 unsuccessful.’

Every childhood instinct made you want to hide under the covers of your bed. Instead, you forced yourself down into the great room, locked the front door of the cabin and barred the back door that led to the lake. You stoked up the fire and darted quickly to the outhouse before the sun dropped below the horizon, quickly relocking the front door. You grabbed Sam’s note, your phone, and some more ammo before returning to the loft and pulling the trapdoor stairs up again.

As darkness spread across the night sky, you’d never felt so vulnerable and exposed. Your heart hammered in your chest and you wrestled with calling Sam and demanding he and Dean redouble back to the cabin. The logical part of your brain chastised you for the thought. There was no such thing as monsters, this was some elaborate hoax and someone was going to pop out from a corner and yell surprise. Right?

Despite the fear pumping through your veins, your long week caught up with you and your brain could no longer fight the exhaustion. You fell asleep, curled up on the edge of your bed, one hand on the shotgun, the other on Poppa’s journal.

Something big and heavy landed on your chest, winding you and drawing you back into the present. Your brain was instantly alert, and you opened your mouth to scream only to feel a warm hand slam across it. You struggled against your captor, kicking and trying to punch wildly in the dark.

“Goddamnit, Y/N, stop!” Dean’s breath was hot on your face. “We tracked the Wendigo to about a mile away and it must have caught your scent. It headed straight here. Sam’s set a trap in the outhouse.”

“Get off me,” you hissed. Your eyes had adjusted to the low light and he smirked, grinding his hips against yours as he rearranged himself between your thighs. The movement relieved the pressure on your belly and lungs, but made your breath catch with the intimacy of it.

“‘Fraid I can’t right now. Small bed, don’t want to make any unnecessary movements,” he whispered. You sighed and looked away, staring into the inky darkness and straining to hear what might be happening outside. Dean dropped his head against your shoulder causing you to draw in your breath sharply.

“I can’t hear anything,” you complained, your voice a soft whisper.

“Shh.”

“How do I know there’s really a -”

“Why else would I be here?” He hissed the interruption. Your head snapped back to try to make eye contact in the dark. All you succeeded in doing was cracking your jaw against his skull, blinding you with hot, white pain.

“Maybe you get off on scaring women,” you managed. He rubbed his skull and sighed.

“I saw Jed’s journal on the bedside table when I snuck up here. You sleep pretty heavy,” he commented. “Your Poppa’s own handwriting and you’re still doubting the truth?”

“Up until a few hours ago, I thought you were as much fiction as the Hardy Boys, so forgive me if I don’t immediately convert to the monster hunting camp,” you hissed. A crash outside silenced you both, but Dean’s hand clamped across your mouth again anyhow. A blazing orange glow erupted from the vicinity of the outhouse, coupled with an unnatural scream. Every hair on your body stood on end. On top of you, Dean tensed up, alert and ready to jump up.

And then silence.

There were footsteps heading toward the cabin, and Dean tried to push up off the bed to meet them, but in your terror, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and pulled him back down against you. “Don’t you dare,” you hissed.

“It’s Sammy, Y/N,” he replied, his voice slightly louder than it had been. “Walking too slow for a Wendigo.”

You shook your head, struggling to breath. “No way. You do not get to leave me here to be eaten alive by some monster.”

“Baby, it’s not like I can protect you if you’re holding me down,” he commented. “Not that I’m complaining, but I’m telling you, Sammy’s not the kind who likes to watch.”

Sam’s head popped through the trapdoor, and you pushed Dean away from you, hastily scrambling up the bed like a crab on your hands and feet. The large flashlight Sam was carrying illuminated the small space and you could see that in your haste to keep Dean from leaving, you’d rucked up his shirt. He looked dishevelled, you were in the same cut-offs and tank top you’d arrived in and to the unknowing eye, it looked more like you’d been fooling around than that he’d been trying to protect you. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you protested, weakly. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Sammy and winked at you.

“She couldn’t keep her hands off me,” Dean exaggerated. You pursed your lips and swatted at him, which only caused him to wink again and lean forward to steal a kiss. “How about a beer, sweetheart? To celebrate Sammy’s success, and to toast to our future?”

[bellabooks]

10 Lesbian, Bi and Queer Women in Sci Fi and Fantasy TV Right Now

Lesbian, bisexual, and queer erasure has pretty much always existed in media, but it has seemed pronounced lately, especially in Science Fiction and Fantasy (SFF) movies. We’ve seen Valkyrie straight-washed, as well as Wonder Woman, Constantine, Harley Quinn, Iceman, and Mystique. (I’ve barely scratched the surface. The list goes on and on.) In SFF TV, though, queer women are showing up in force. They’re super-powered and super-smart. We still need more and better representation, particularly for queer women of color, trans and nonbinary folks, queer women with disabilities, and every other member of the queer community who do not see themselves represented on TV.   Jeri Hogarth, Jessica Jones Jeri Hogarth (Carrie-Anne Moss) is a powerful, intimidating lesbian, lawyer, and counsel to the super-powered in Hell’s Kitchen. (Moss also played Trinity in The Matrix so you already know she’s one attractive lady.) In the comics, Jeryn Hogarth is a sort of dumpy lawyer and confidant to heroes. He’s more of a side character than an antagonist, while the Hogarth from the Jessica Jones TV show (and the other Netflix adaptations) is anything but a sidekick. She’s manipulative, conniving, and ruthless. In one of the eerier choices she makes, she salvages the potentially powered aborted fetus of the child of Kilgrave, a super villain who can make anyone do anything he wants just by saying so. She takes the cell tissue to see if she can find a way to harness his powers. She even helps Kilgrave escape from Jessica so he can help her with her own divorce negotiation. In the end, Kilgrave supercharges himself with tissue samples from the aborted fetus, which make him that much harder for Jessica to defeat. In Iron Fist, Hogarth helps Danny Rand prove his identity and get reinstated with his family’s company after he returns, and she hires Daredevil’s best friend, Foggy Nelson. She has him represent Jessica when she gets caught up in another huge case in The Defenders. You may not like Jeri, but her tenacity is admirable. Check her out in season two of Jessica Jones, which is set to release on Netflix on March 8th.   Anissa Pierce/Thunder, Black Lightning Anissa Pierce (Nafessa Williams) recently started feeling strange. In times of great stress, she has exhibited supernatural strength and the ability to create shockwaves when she stomps. Unbeknownst to Anissa, her father, Jefferson Pierce (Cress Williams), the principal of the school where she works, is the superhero vigilante Black Lightning. As Jefferson comes out of vigilante retirement, Anissa begins exploring her powers and finds that she is frighteningly strong. The first time she uses her powers on humans, she worries that she might have killed the drug dealers she was trying to scare. In a community plagued by police brutality, gang activity, and racism, Anissa starts to believe her powers are not just a gift, but a responsibility. Time and again, throughout the show, we see Anissa assuming the role of protector. One of the best things about Anissa is the fact that she’s just out. There’s no coming out story in the TV show, though her parents do reference her coming out at one point. She lives her life as a lesbian without remorse or regret. She has a girlfriend she breaks up with and meets the very cute Grace Choi. To see her manifest her powers on top of all her confidence and power is a sight to behold.   Grace Choi, Black Lightning Grace Choi (Chantal Thuy) is a cute comic book nerd who Anissa meets in a library. They immediately connect and start flirting while talking about genetic mutation, which Anissa is researching. When Grace is knocked unconscious by a gang member, we see Anissa express her powers more drastically than ever before. Later, while she’s holding Grace, she wonders aloud if someone who could do something to right the wrongs of the world should. Grace affirms that they should. Grace has Anissa’s back and believes in her, even though she doesn’t yet know about her powers. Grace is out and open with her bisexual identity, even joking about it with Anissa. We don’t know if Grace will exhibit the powers she has in the comic books yet, but the first season has just begun. Power Coupling: #Thundergrace So far in the TV show, Anissa and Grace are just getting started as a couple and as heroes, but their attraction and support of one another has me really rooting for them. They are an extremely rare example of a relationship between queer women of color and we need more positive examples out there. Bring on #Thundergrace! You can see Anissa, Grace, and the whole Black Lightning team on Tuesdays on the CW.   Sara Lance/The White Canary, Legends of Tomorrow After surviving a horrific boat accident, Sara Lance (Caity Lotz) is recruited to the League of Assassins, naturally, and becomes a lethal force. While living with the League, she falls in love with Nyssa Al Ghul, daughter of the leader of the League. Sara, who made her first appearance in Arrow, fights alongside and dates the Green Arrow (or Arrow or Hood, or whatever Oliver Queen is calling himself at the time), survives her own death by use of a magical hot tub, and is recruited to join a team of time traveling vigilantes. A typical tale. She assumes the identity of the White Canary for her new role and as she travels through time, Sara flirts with and kisses nurses, a female Merlin, and her teammate, Leonard Snart. In the second season of Legends of Tomorrow, Sara becomes the ship’s captain and leads with humor, grace, and many, many stunning fight scenes. She tempers the ragtag team of heroes and damn, it’s nice to see a woman in charge. Season three of Legends of Tomorrow is still in progress, and things are heating up with Ava Sharpe. You can catch my favorite bisexual time traveling captain on Mondays on the CW.   Alex Danvers, Supergirl Agent of the Department of Extra-Normal Operations (D.E.O.) and member of her sister Supergirl’s team, Alex Danvers (Chyler Leigh) comes out of the closet in season two of Supergirl. Some of us might be sick of coming out stories, but for a show created for a younger audience, this coming out story is powerful. Alex describes herself as always feeling like something was wrong with her, as if she didn’t want to date, until she met Maggie (Floriana Lima). An out and proud cop, Maggie assumes Alex is gay, which helps Alex out of the closet. The two begin dating, while fighting super villains and teaming up with heroes from other universes. Ultimately, Alex and Maggie split because Alex wants to have kids and that doesn’t work for Maggie. In the end, the actor, Lima, decided not to return to the show, so the split was inevitable. Decisive, powerful, loyal, and quite the fighter, Alex is a credit to queer women. You can see her on season three of Supergirl which is currently airing on Mondays on the CW.   Waverly Earp, Wynonna Earp The younger sister of the heir to the Earp Curse, Waverly Earp (Dominique Provost-Chalkley) is whip smart, adorkable, and an irreplaceable member of her sister Wynonna’s team. When we first meet Waverly, she’s wielding a shotgun, which is aimed at her sister Wynonna (Melanie Scrofano), who she believes is currently hooking up with Waverly’s boyfriend. Over the first season of the show, we see Waverly begin to question her relationship and her sexuality, as she comes into contact with the very sexy police officer, Officer Haught. When Officer Haught kisses Waverly for the first time, it is powerful, sensual, and blows Waverly’s world right open. As Waverly explores her sexuality, we see her transition from a shy woman testing the waters to a powerful woman who goes after what she wants. The second season also finds Waverly questioning her relationship to her family and her future.   Officer Haught, Wynonna Earp Officer Nicole Haught (Katherine Barrell) is an unshakeable force for good on Wynonna’s team. At first, the group keeps Officer Haught in the dark, but she’s a great detective and figures out that something is amiss in the Ghost River Triangle. When the supernatural happenings are confirmed for her, she doesn’t freak out. She’s just relieved she’s not the only one who knows something is wrong. She fights heterosexism, small town politics, and demons throughout the show. In the second season, Officer Haught is wounded by a demon-widow and falls into a coma. The audience feared the worst for Haught, but she comes out of the coma and lives to fight another day. Power Coupling: #WayHaught Officer Haught and Waverly are both awesome on their own, but together they make cute-sexy-funny-loving relationships seem natural. Things aren’t always easy—they make it through their own fair share of supernatural mishaps—but they’re an example of what love between two women can look like. You’ll be able to watch #WayHaught’s evolution in season three of Wynonna Earp, which is slated to air on SyFy sometime in 2018.   Karolina Dean/Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, Runaways What do you do when you find out your parents are super villains? Karolina Dean (Virginia Gardner) and her friends try to answer this question in season one of Runaways. While sleuthing and being a hormonal teenager, Karolina also finds out that she has superpowers. She can manipulate solar light and fly. When the bracelet she was given as a child isn’t inhibiting her abilities, she shines like an iridescent rainbow. Can she get any queerer? In fact, she can! As they prepare to act like normal kids for a night at the high school dance, Karolina finally makes her feelings known and kisses Nico, her friend and eventual leader of the Runaways. They go on to kiss again later in the season and share a very sweet moment complete with eye batting and sly smiles.   Nico Minoru/Sister Grimm, Runaways Nico Minoru (Lyrica Okano) is a bad witch you do not want to mess with. She can do anything, but she can only do it once. (It’s a limitation of her magical powers.) She’s a member of the all-female Avengers called A-Force, and a general badass. Long before her reign as bad witch, though, Nico was just a kid in California–a kid with super villain parents–but a kid nonetheless. This is where we meet her in the TV show Runaways. She’s emo, she’s angry, and she’s mourning the death of her sister. When she and her friends find out that their parents are evil, she starts investigating her connection to a family heirloom, the Staff of One, which gives her the ability to manifest anything she can think of. During this confusing time in Nico’s life, she kisses Alex, another teammate, but after she finds out that Alex has been keeping secrets about her sister’s death, she rejects his advances. She and Karolina share a passionate kiss and this sets Nico down an entirely new path of self-discovery. Power Coupling: #Nicolina One of the best things about Karolina and Nico’s relationship is how far it deviates from the comic books, which are filled with off-hand heterosexist remarks and Nico distancing herself from Karolina when Karolina expresses an interest in her. In the TV show, we see two young women acknowledging their attraction. We’ve barely seen either use their powers and I’m really looking forward to what happens to #Nicolina in season two. You can join me in watching their relationship to each other and their parents evolve in season two of Runaways, which has been renewed for a second season on Hulu. Given when the first season aired, we might see the second season as soon as fall 2018.   Cassandra Cillian/The Librarian, The Librarians  Cassandra Cillian (Lindy Booth) is a genius with a brain tumor, which essentially gives her super powers. Recruited by the mystical Library to preserve magical artifacts, Cassandra is one of the three librarians who is new to the game. For much of the show’s run thus far, the show seems to flirt with the idea of Cassandra’s queerness. She gets enchanted and becomes a female Prince Charming. All the ladies in the town start fawning over her and she likes it. She flirts with a diplomat and gets her phone number, while also stealing her earrings, which are magical artifacts, so it’s totally fine. And, on more than one occasion, she makes eyes at her Guardian (not that kind of guardian, gross. It’s a magical thing.), played by Rebecca Romijn. I also make eyes at Romijn in this TV show. At one point, Cassandra makes advances toward an older male character and seems to have some sexual tension with another librarian who is male. After three seasons, the show finally lets Cassandra be out. When Cassandra’s life-threatening tumor is removed, she realizes how close to the end she was and rushes to see her friend, who is a vampire that she has been relentlessly flirting with the entire episode. They share a passionate kiss and boom, Cassandra’s out of the closet! The season finale of season four of The Librarians just recently aired. We’re waiting with baited breath to see if TNT will renew the show for a fifth season. http://dlvr.it/QJKcGZ

[enemymine2000]

Fandom rambles: “That other post” or  It’s all about the souls

So we have the transition of souls/the stuff that keeps us going as a theme for a while now.

1) Crowley's heart is more human than it ever was, even while still alive. That is one thing we have learned from Gavin.

Fergus hated his son. Was a drunkard and beat the boy for any reason. Crowley, although not father of the year material, is loved by his son – he comes because he thinks Crowley is very sick – and loves him in return so much he'd rather unhinge the timeline further with unforeseeable consequence than have it restored by Gavin going back to his own time. (Also again with the theme: Gavin makes the choice to go back and to his certain death because of love.)

So, we can safely assume that the twisted demonic soul of our resident King of Hell has somewhat untwisted. He is capable of true (kept close to his chest) human emotions while not addicted to human-blood once more.

So that begs the following questions:

Are all demons capable of changing “back”?

Or just those who had the “cure” attempted on them?

Or are all demons capable of human emotions but choose not too – because of the torture human souls endure at first to become twisted demonic somethings and showing emotions means more torture or obliteration, which beyond a certain point you are Stockholm'ed into not wanting either – or is it a genuine trait of being a demon not to have emotions?

2) Rowena is a natural witch, but apart from that she is purely human or so it seems.

Her soul is doomed according to old hunter's lore anyway and she'll end up in Hell.

But then again, she is a natural. She never made a demonic deal to attain her level of powers, therefore she has sullied her soul only by the deeds she did with them.

Isn't Christianity build around the concept that those who repent can gain access to Heaven? The same concepts apply to Supernatural's version of Heaven and Hell as far as we know. Therefore Rowena could potentially “clean” her soul and gain access to Heaven in the afterlife.

We know Rowena is capable of love (Oskar), which is always the first step to redemption, even if not (on the surface) for her own flesh and blood. But then it was Rowena who outright stated that she needed to hate Fergus, because otherwise she would have loved him. (We still don't have enough backstory on her to say there might not be a very good reason for a mother to choose to hate her own child and act accordingly.)

She surely does not hate Sam and Dean or she would have already hexed them to the moon and back for not leaving her alone.

3) Dean has thought for the longest time that he was irredeemable and maybe a part of him still thinks so. But he has in fact made his peace with it. He does not yearn for his own slice of Heaven and he sure does not fear Hell anymore. He would welcome the emptiness Billie had threatened. Because Dean has very much come to terms with himself and achieved a little bit of Nirvana on earth. He'll make the best of the time he has left, but he will not beat himself up over it anymore.

4) Sam is a couple of steps behind in his evolution. He was fine with potentially leaving Dean to fend for himself, when he had still the promise of Heaven (when he made the deal with Death just before he had been tricked into allowing Ezekiel/Gadreel to possess him) but the big empty is not something he looks forward to (exception being, when it would mean that Mary would only have to mourn for one child come midnight). He still has to make sense of himself and his inner monster before he will be able to be as zen about it as Dean is.

5) Our resident angel is a very complicated matter.

An angel's grace is not only their equivalent of a human soul but also their power source. But they can give it all up and live a full human life from birth to death, like Anna Milton did, but leaving all memories of their celestial being intact (unless they actively suppress them). But in the same way a human can continue existing without their soul, an embodied angel can continue living without his grace. Powerless and trapped in their vessel, forced to endure a human existence.

But where humans lose their emotional connections and inhibitions, an angel without his grace is losing his emotional detachment.

Therefore an angel without their grace is basically a human with a soul. While the vessel of an angel without its original host present (as it is the case with Jimmy Novak's former body after he had been killed by Raphael, and therefore his soul had been reaped and gone to Heaven), is not functional and appears to be brain dead. Which ties in with a human body, whose soul had been caught by a soul eater and that now showed rapid signs of physical decline. Either way the soul is gone, the body dies.

If a host soul still inhibits the vessel when an angel is expelled from it, the host will take over as if nothing has happened and is able to return to their former life.

That was the easiest part. Cas' personal road is making things so very much more complicated.

First off: Cas is the sole inhabitant of his vessel. Jimmy Novak's soul is in his own personal Heaven. No doubt about that. So, thank Chuck, for small wonders!

While Cas is a celestial being, he also very much is an angel literally walking the earth in human form. There is no one else in his body, the vessel has become his true earthly body and can not exist without Cas anymore.

Keep that in mind going forward.

While Cas might be able to survive in celestial form when being expelled from his vessel, the body is a mere bodysuit and would probably soon be declared brain dead or even completely dead. It has become what demons call a meatsuit.

But we don't know whether he would be able to regain his body if it was truly dead. The only instance of him being possibly expelled from his vessel we are shown is, when Cas drew the sigil for expulsion onto his own body. We can't be sure that he truly had been expelled from the body or if he somehow hung on and therefore the body was technically still alive and only brain dead and Cas able to to immediately take control again, once he regain full hold.  

What we know though is that he was not a full angel anymore, implying he lost his grace partially through his actions.

We don't know if the same would happen nowadays since (very simplified version of events):

Castiel's evolution to becoming human has progressed that much and therefore the changes to his innermost self could influence the actions of his grace and

Cas was not only restored by God in the aftermath of the Apocalypse but “promoted” to Seraph, which means he's is inherently more powerful, probably because he's got more “juice” aka grace to work from.

But of course, this is Supernatural, nothing is ever that easy.

Castiel rebelled when still fully in garrison angel mode. He grew a conscience during that time, which started him on his road to becoming Cas.

Canon shows repeatedly that what we understand as conscience is connected to a healthy human soul.

No human soul, no conscience!

Angels have grace, therefore no conscience!

But there was a conscience growing in Cas pretty soon after he first came in contact with Dean, which lead his brethren to take him to be reprogrammed the first time – conscience removal so to speak.

But that darn thing came back with a vengeance and was apparently Chuck-approved for he rebuilt Cas as a seraph and kept the conscience on retainer.

There was basically some form of soul budding in Cas for years and years together with his Seraph-level grace. So when Cas became human again thanks to Metratron's manipulations and very hands on removal of Cas' grace, it simply took away his angel powers but left him otherwise in his very core unaltered. Same in reversal.

When Cas stole grace from other angels as well as when he retained the leftover of his very own grace, he remained basically himself only with angelic powers. Unlike Anna, who pretty much lost all human conscience when taking back her grace.

It even seemed to speed up the growth of his conscience even more to the point in which he even openly refused direct interaction with his father, because Cas felt like He failed them all. Which – flashback to the beginning of Cas' arc – should be against everything he is at his very core, against his basic programming. But Cas is more human than angel at his point and rapidly progresses further that road. Which even seems to have Chuck's approval, by the (out of focus) looks on His face during the graveyard-goodbye scenes. (But that again would be another meta, I feel not up to (re-)writing at this point.)

Anyway Cas' grace seems to have grown a soul on its own. Leading to him professing his love… for humanity… the Winchesters… Dean... more openly than ever before. He basically finishes what God started in Lucifer and all the other angels, but without the major programming flaw of jealousy. Love humanity, wholeheartedly and fully.

Which would make Cas at his core wholly human.

Or would it? It would appear so at this point, for we have seen Cas angelic powers dwindle. He had troubles healing Ishim and was utterly exhausted after all only a couple of episode ago.

But in my fan heart of hearts I don't believe so.

Why would Chuck program love for humanity in all of His angels and thus the potential for them to gain their very own soul, if He wanted them to become human? He was very hands-on at first, He said so himself. He could have changed the settings on His creation at any time before going on His earthly vacation. He could have even changed it any time after. Chuck was aware of what was happening after all, or He would not have been able to intervene to rebuilt Cas at least two times (killed by Raphael, killed by Lucifer – both during the Apocalypse) maybe even more (killed by the Leviathans – not confirmed to have been God, but it was a miraculous “recovery” from certain death).

As Cas put it a couple of episodes (7x23) later:

"And at best, I die trying to fix my own stupid mistake. Or... I don't die – I'm brought back again. I see now. It's a punishment resurrection. It's worse every time."

It seems just like God simply doesn't want Cas dead. As if he is one of His chosen. Part of His firewall between light and darkness. And since He is the creator, He wants Cas with all this emotions. Which of course for Cas feels like punishment, because guilt.

I think the moment Cas comes to terms with his troubled past – his very willing attempt of becoming God, his unwilling freeing of the Leviathans, his part in closing the Gates of Heaven, him killing his brethren and stealing grace, (falling in love with one special human in the face of the Sacred Oath), unknowingly being part of taking innocent lives; to name some – and accepts his own fallibility as a creation of God, thus stopping his humanity and angel side to fully connect, he will not only regain his full Seraph strength, but maybe even “level up”. *insert myself giggling at the mental Pokemon-Cas image*

We have seen it before in other shows and/or movies – the hero must fall to rise again, stronger than ever.

It would also perfectly fit into the angelic lore of Supernatural. What has more power than an angel? A nephilim, a creature literally born with a combination of angelic grace and human soul.

What is Cas currently searching for desperately – no longer necessarily to destroy it, but protect it?

A nephilim.

What if, sweet SPN irony, Cas himself becomes a nephilim, not by birth, but by the choices he made in life, by the conscience he developed?

With that thought I go back to my original point:

This season is about transitions. Of family. Of questions of conscience. Of the very core of every being.

Souls. It's all about the souls.