#so he was roasting dean for no reason and sometimes siding with sam just to (affectionately) annoy me
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my dad was also like "can this guy stop monologuing" when john-as-azazel was going on and on in 1x22 and then 2 seconds later dean goes "you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing" and my dad was like "no way!" djfkdfkd
#he's always so delighted by coincidences like that#anyways i feel like he'd like dean bc they are both adhd pop culture nerd boys with similar humor#but. my dad also loves participating in my sister's favorite sport which is 'be contrary for the bit toward whatever vic likes' jkfdfgk#so he was roasting dean for no reason and sometimes siding with sam just to (affectionately) annoy me#like i know he doesn't actually have an opinion on either of them really#but i was like. i cannot have you talking like a samgirl in this house lmao#vics spn rewatch
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imagine → sam defending your shortness when dean teases you
requested by/for: @deanthepielover !! ty darling, sorry it took me so long!! hope my fellow shorties enjoy :3
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It’s not an unusual sight to stumble upon in the mornings: Sam waiting, bleary-eyed, for his coffee while you sit on the island across from him.
You’ve shared a few quiet words and gentle kisses in bed, but it always takes a warm cup of joe before he’s able to hold a real conversation. The smell of the dark roasted beans is enough for you, sometimes, igniting a certain warmth in your chest that only cozy Sundays can bring. No hunts on the schedule, no long drives to endure for hours on end with cramped limbs and the same cassettes on repeat.
Sam always takes a single sip before kissing you, minty toothpaste from moments ago worn off into a bitter steep that clings to his lips and passes to yours. His unsweetened drink always has a distinct taste when it mixes with the pure sweetness of Sammy, candy mouth, and caramel tongue that brushes against yours softly.
Even with the counter underneath you, he still has to lean over to reach your lips, but it’s a comfortable position -- for you at least. His chest is warm when you press your palms against it, fingertips rubbing over the soft grey tee he pulled on before dragging you out of bed with him.
His large hand practically covers your face as he cups your cheek, giving you one more gentle peck before pulling away with a lopsided grin -- the smile that makes you really understand why college girls fawned over him the way they did.
“Really guys, in the kitchen?” Dean shuffles through the archway, patterned socks sliding over the smooth floor. Sam huffs but backs away from you, cheeks visibly more flushed than a few minutes prior.
Dean’s robe brushes against your legs as he steals the rest of the coffee, pouring a mug half-full to leave room for sweetener and a splash of whiskey. Then, he rests against the cabinets across from you, leaving you all in an awkward triangle. Your legs dangle and you swing them mindlessly as Sam busies himself finishing his cup.
“Y/N, I love you, I do,” Dean starts, with a deep inhale. “But just because you’re short doesn’t mean you get to sit on the counter. Especially just to make out with my brother.”
Sam sputters, almost choking on his coffee before he clears his throat. “Dean.” You’re holding back a laugh, even as slight embarrassment tingles underneath your skin.
“Sam.” Dean squints, anything but intimidating with his hedgehog hair and pizza print socks.
Your boyfriend scoffs. “It’s not like it’s hurting anyone.” Sam, you think, you were going to be a lawyer! You’ve gotta have a better defense than that. Dean, as both jury and judge, shakes his head.
“Tell that to my eyes.”
You gasp playfully, and Dean catches your gaze with a discreet wink.
Sam blinks in disbelief a couple of times and then sweeps his hair back from his face in a nervous twitch. “Firstly, your eyes don’t count. And, I don’t know.” He brings his mug to his lips, trying to hide his face. “It..it’s cute, you know?”
Your heart thumps a bit harder than usual, legs halting their swinging. Every person you’ve ever met has referred to you as cute at some point -- it’s a side-effect of your height -- but Sam saying it always has a different feeling attached. Not teasing, or condescending, just… Cute.
Dean’s downright gagging at this point, nose scrunched and brows drawn together. “Okay, we get it, you’re a sap.” He chuckles, mostly to himself, and then starts to head back to his room. “Just let me know when you two are uh - done in here, so I can make bacon.” He rolls his eyes like you’ll jump Sam’s bones the moment he leaves, but there’s a content smile on his face that you catch for just a second. A secret part of him that enjoys the cheesy moments -- morning coffee with family, cozy socks, and stolen kisses.
“Cute?” you ask Sam, only once Dean is out of earshot. “That’s the reason I get to sit on the counter?” There’s a teasing grin spread across your face and your lashes flutter with the question.
Sam just slides between your legs and nods, wavy strands of hair brushing your cheeks as he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. The light scruff on his chin tickles your cupid’s bow and you squirm in a way that makes him want to do it again and again and again.
“Very cute…” He trails off, tapping his fingers against the side of your thighs. “And it’s the perfect kissing height if you ask me.”
“Now, that,” you lean closer, murmuring into the small shared space between you, “I can’t argue with.” And he smiles before his lips meet yours again.
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a/n: i’m a whole ass 4′10ft and so i had to REPRESENT. and now i’d very much like to climb sam winchester like a tree so i can have ONE (1) smooch pls and thx!!
sam tag list: @princess-of-the-snakepit @nxuseous @hi-my-name-is-riley
#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester#supernatural#supernatural fluff#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester imagine#spn fluff#spn imagine#spn drabble#supernatural imagine#supernatural drabble#sam winchester x reader fluff#t: writing#sam winchester x short!reader#short!reader#sam x short!reader#sam x reader#sam imagine#sam fluff#sam drabble
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more hbo spn rambles, thoughts, drabbles etc. long long post.
part 1 here
there’s some things i’ve omitted here bc others have already posted about those things, certain headcanons and characterizations and stuff. those posts are in my likes somewhere (and i’ll reblog them someday), and there’s some posts i’ve read but not liked, which i now can only vaguely remember, which is why some ideas/thoughts are similar
ALSO most of these follow the model i talked about in part one: how s1-5 will stay more or less how they are but s6-10 is changed (some things are cut out entirely, some things are tweaked and some characters + arcs are more fleshed out. more focus on sam’s trauma and post-cage adaptation to the real world as well as dean letting his rage and control issues consume him and how he’d recover and redeem himself)
as i typed these paragraphs, i realized i really have 10 seasons mapped out and ready to go. hbo hire me!!
alright go:
sam and dean get wearier as the show progresses (second half), and eventually they stop putting so much care and thought in the people they save. like...hm how do i say this, like as long as a victim/victims are saved, they don’t care about how that happens or how those people suffer potential consequences, like if the victims lose a limb or have their homes burned down because of the monster, then sam and dean don’t really care. they saved your life, now they’ll leave you with your life in potential shambles and not care because all that matters is that they saved your life, not how it is afterwards. they still care about saving that one person, but eventually it pales a little in comparison to a war between heaven and hell, being the vessels etc. ---> saving people becomes less about making sure they’re actually alright and healing from horrific events and more about just making sure they have a pulse before they move on
when angels lose their wings they are either burned off in the actual fall or ripped off of them in their vessels, which leaves pretty nasty scars on the vessel
ed and harry are so young and bright eyed about the whole hunting thing; sam and dean as kids, idolizing it, finding it exciting and intriguing when they shouldn’t. sam and dean try to get them out of the business before they too are too traumatized and desensitized to do anything but hunt. neither sam or dean will say it but they are jealous of ed and harry and their freedom to leave, and hate them for choosing this voluntarily instead of being dragged into it by tragedy
hbo spn is a slow burn. there’s a lot more shots of sam and dean in silence just sitting together after a hunt, exhausted and too tired to move yet. they’re covered in blood and guts on the side of the road after killing or covered with dirt in a graveyard after burning bones, sitting next to the fire, just watching it. the times they park the car and watch the stars? we get to see it.
dean wears rings and the amulet all the time in the beginning, for the first five seasons. the rings vary; first they’re some of john’s old ones and stuff he finds in thrift stores. then later on he begins wearing rings from people they’ve saved/haven’t saved as a keepsakes etc. when he begins his descent to the holy murderer in s6-10 he wears less and less rings. they don’t matter anymore -> symbolically shedding who he was and what mattered to him
the only accessories sam has is a rosary/cross around his neck. he has jess’ engagement ring in his pocket/wallet. after the cage he vaguely remembers why the ring was there and who jessica was (more on this further down)
the four horsemen are manifestations of different aspects of human nature at its most grotesque and strongest, can’t be killed as long as humans live. war is conflict, famine is desire, pestilence is physical and mental illnesses.
(the seven sins are like the horsemen, tulpas of human nature instead of demons)
death isn’t a concentration of an existing aspect of humans as much as it is the end of life, the antithesis of life. death the oldest of the horsemen and has existed since the beginning of any life, organism, cell and atom. the opposite of life and light, the other half of god (as i’m typing this i’m confused as to why amara was the opposite of god instead of death). death isn’t evil or good, remains 100% objective. doesn’t care for sam or dean at all, but has a begrudging respect for their stubbornness and entertainment they provide due to their flat out refusal to do as they’re told by celestial bodies when anyone else would crumble
by including death i feel like it very naturally begs questions of who decides when someone dies, when someone lives, why would death follow these guides instead of reaping whomever whenever, what happens if a life isn’t reaped at the right time etc. the reader in me adore the idea of death having a library with books and records of everyone who has ever lived and died and how they died - but then, who writes these books and why? do they decide, and if in that case, how? these questions are above my paygrade but you know what i mean? like there has to be some sort of system right, god created everything, death executes to maintain order, some third party deity writes the laws and the books. the three branches of government. ok but it’s hbo so again, i think we shouldn’t dive this deep into things, like as much as these topics intrigue me i don’t want to stray too much from the dirt road trip aesthetic
shapeshifters are extremely rare because they don’t require any kind of human blood or organs/sacrifice to live
i want more exploration of how magic is like science, like it just needs the right ingredients and right conditions. sam thinks of magic as an obscure branch of science; it just requires research and knowledge and clear intentions because science can be controlled and do a lot of good when used responsibly. dean doesn’t like it. he doesn’t trust the unpredictable elements and he’s seen enough to know it never goes well. magic is a force that can’t be controlled by anyone.
sam and dean have full on fist fights regularly. to practice and keeping each other sharp, but also because they’re siblings. they’re feral, insane and unhinged with each other and they get on each other’s nerves A LOT. it’s petty and childish and sometimes it can get a lil ugly but it becomes their way of family therapy. after a fight the next scene cuts to sam and dean with ruffled clothes, nosebleeds and swollen lips at a diner eating silently after beating each other up. either they sit in silence because they’re tired or both are harping on the other’s openings and weaknesses
sometimes they’ll fight a little dirty but they do so in different ways; dean will pull the old ‘look!’ and point to something and then tackle sam when he turns to look while sam will just cry out in fake pain which makes dean stop dead in his tracks before sam headbutts him or kicks him in the groin
we, the audience get used to these fights, they’re sometimes funny and for comic relief, sometimes for narrative purposes (like tricking a monster they’re fighting each other when they’re really not) BUT. then comes the times when sam and dean are actually fighting without holding back and we see how much they are capable of hurting each other or how heartbreaking and difficult it can be to watch when of them are incapable of fighting back/doesn’t defend himself -> swan song when dean doesn’t fight back against possessed sam, or when dean beats soulless sam unconscious
sam and dean also just verbally bully each other constantly but they do have their odd ways of expressing affection and care. they get the other person their fave snack whenever they go grocery shopping without being asked to and are the only other one they truly trust to have their back in hunts. have a cup of coffee ready before the other asks for one. brothers and each other’s best friend. nightmare duo but in a sweet way. the cooperation of ‘the usual suspects’ when they’re in different interrogation rooms but still has the cover story down to a t. code words and code names and cover stories, they know it all
when sam and dean fight together against a common enemy they’re a damn nightmare - because they know each others weaknesses and habits, they cover each other perfectly and in complete silence. they’ve been at it together since they were kids and read each other’s nonverbal cues like a picture book
to build off of what i said in part 1; the winchesters are pretty hated in the hunter’s community. even the people sam and dean frequently work with (bobby, ellen, jo, ash, rufus, bela, kevin, charlie, castiel etc) roasts them all the time and don’t hesitate with calling them out on their self-pitying crap when it get’s too much (spn was just objectively better when characters weren’t afraid of dragging sam and dean through the mud for being selfish and stupid) and this WILL persist in hbo spn. the only reason people continue working with sam and dean is because they know deep down a lot of the things that happens aren’t sam and dean’s fault - but they still blame them for it. doesn’t make it easier how sam or dean sometimes start crap on purpose to save the other
the winchesters are terrifying and people for sure tell stories about them, but not like ‘they’re heroes’, more like ‘they’re insane and dangerous. stay the fuck away from them’. some stories are true, like how they’ve worked with demons, but some are just game of telephone. (dean has apparently a ghost he is frequently possessed by while sam is actually a mutant vampire). hunters hate and are scared of the winchesters. sam and dean are never invited to hunter stuff (burials, memorials etc) but crash them nonetheless even though the hunters do NOT want them there.
you know what drives me insane when i think about it? how some characters in spn already are their hbo spn counterparts; john. mary. adam. maybe kevin?
other things that already are their hbo spn counterparts: dean throwing away the amulet right in front of sam. eyes burning when angels are seen. how ghosts are just tragedies, stuck in a loop they can’t leave. how a lot of the monsters they meet are just victims or their circumstances or the first victim of a curse. the impala being sam and dean’s home. dean not knowing how to comfort sam when he’s upset other than trying to do things for sam that usually brings dean comfort (driving the impala, listening to rock music etc). the roadhouse. heaven being an eternal version of the memories that made you the happiest even though it’s not real. sam wanting independence and freedom but never fully having it. dean fearing being alone more than anything else and that’s where he always ends up. sam has an eating disorder after the demon blood and dean has an alcohol problem he refuses to see as a problem. dean saying “i’d do it again” without an ounce of regret and pouring himself a drink when sam tells him it was fucked up to lie to him about gadreel
the demon/angel hybrid: THIS could be sooo interesting to explore. an angel and demon hybrid are you kidding me?? not to toot my own horn too much but i’m so clever. i should write this story myself. SO. does this creature have parents who fucked in their vessels or was this an experiment by god (yes i love the ‘mad scientist’ idea, that really should’ve been played up way more) or did a pre-existing creature (human or otherwise) drink demon blood and angel grace at the same time so that it created itself? so much potential for some really intriguing storytelling and character exploration - not only the creature itself and what they would be like, but also for the people around; sam, dean, castiel, jack etc. how would they react to this thing that is the very definition of defying heaven and hell and all the natural laws? does it exist before the show starts or will we see its birth?
the powers of the demon/angel hybrid would be tricky; a mix of holy and defiant, grotesque and beautiful. unconsciously forces people to tell the truth when talking to them. poisons whatever they touch. eyes of a demon, wings of an angel. can smite but skin will burn when touching iron. can do deals but will require a sacrifice in return, not a soul, usually a body part taken then and there (the hybrid eats it. it favours eyeballs and the liver - angels like raw meat). lights always flicker. makes things explode when angry (esp people and cars). can manipulate feelings, thoughts and memories. can travel to both heaven and hell, not welcome in either places. + standard stuff like telekinesis, teleportation, mind reading, super strength etc.
sam and dean’s wardrobe are pretty much the same; whatever’s cheap and not covered in blood. however, they do have stylistic differences. sam thinks graphic tees are funny, dean uses whatever’s black combined with john’s leather jacket. their wardrobe melds as they stop thinking of themselves as individuals and more of “me and my brother,”. their clothes are tattered and torn to shreds all the time. hand me downs, hand me ups. when they stray off their “path” and do things that are the crux of a storyline/character arc, this would reflect in their clothes. when sam is with ruby and becomes more and more “evil” he wears more and more red, a colour he has stated in the past he doesn’t really like. when dean is dead, sam starts to wear his rings and john’s and dean’s leather jacket. when dean decides he’s going to say yes to michael he dresses in white, when sam is dead dean takes off every piece of jewelry except the amulet. he holds it clenched in his fists when he’s whispering what comes close to a prayer
logically the amulet should have a backstory but you know what? i love that it’s hinted to be just a piece of cheap jewelry sam found in a thrift store he decided to give to dean. but narratively it should be explained so... idk. what could be logical solution as to why it would react to GOD himself? maybe god wore it once cuz he thought it was neat but he sold it for three dollars because he wanted coffee and then sam found it a week later
i would prefer it if god didn’t show up at all (absent father number one) but if he DID he’s not all powerful just a true neutral (like death, 100% objective) who created a thing that just took a life of its own, much like a parent and a child - the parent helps the child but can’t control it. the times he did intervene or tried to do something it didn’t really have any real long lasting effect so he gave up on trying a while ago.
@spneveryseason talked about this, how the storyline of sam being possessed by gadreel would be horrifying if we saw everything from sam’s perspective instead of dean’s (her fic is wonderful). in the ‘dean slowly descends into a righteous murderer to become holy’ idea i have this tracks so damn well because again, if dean believes something is right, it is right, no questions about it. everyone around him is like “that’s really fucked up and you should make amends” but dean doesn’t see any reasons for why - sam is alive isn’t he? and seeing it from sam’s pov would really underline how horrifying, dehumanizing and belittling that experience was
john and mary are adam and eve. sam and dean are cain and abel are michael and lucifer. time is a flat circle. history never stops repeating itself.
sam is the villain of s4. he is manipulated and key information is withheld from him but in the end... would it made a difference? it crossed his mind, that he could be tricked because ruby is a demon after all, but maybe he likes the power, the feeling of freedom, that he wasn’t just the baby, the one who always needs permission to do things. if he has to drain possessed people to get that power... so be it. and it’s for a good purpose, until it isn’t. he’s hungry for more, to be feared and respected. he’s enticed by lucifer’s sweet words, the potential of all that power and the idea of ruling two out of three realms. dean manages to pull him back from the brink because sam decides he doesn’t want to be what john thought he was and fail dean and himself like that.
dean is the villain in s9. he is controlling, the mark of cain without the mark. what he says goes - it’s not a democracy, it’s a dictatorship. he doesn’t see how much pain, doubt and fear he causes the people around him. if some victims or civilians die on his watch that doesn’t matter - just some collateral damage. sam can’t make dean listen to him because dean is the older one, the one who’s always called the shots. dean is the angelic one, heaven’s chosen warrior, he is untouchable and unkillable. he’s is an excellent killer, filling the void with blood and rage which is better than the crippling fear of loneliness carved into his bones. 'i butcher for love, to protect,’ he tells himself. ‘why shouldn’t i exterminate, regardless of the cost? i’ve followed the rules, i’ve always sacrificed. now i call the shots. it’s my right.’
sam’s hell trauma is never magically removed. he’s stuck with the memories and the nightmares and the occasional hallucinations. castiel can’t do anything but offers to wipe his memory completely, but sam says no, he is still doing penance.
after dean comes back from hell he starts calling himself old man and jokes a lot about he’s 40 years older now (after he’s more comfortable about speaking about hell)
when sam comes back he feels ancient (he’s over 900 years old at least but he lost count), weary, tired and so so so out of place in this world. he’s forgotten how to put gas in a car, how to drive, how to use a credit card, all the song lyrics he and dean used to yell together, the faces of people he knew before he fell, the softness of a bed, the schools he went to, most of the hunts he and dean, how john died, who mary is, the initials carved into the impala, the taste of food that isn’t raw meat. it’s so much he’s forgotten that he has to relearn. he prefers figuring things out with castiel instead of dean because castiel doesn’t silently resent him for everything he’s forgotten
sam doesn’t laugh anymore. despite dean’s many and castiel’s few awkward attempts, it’s more like quick smile and a quiet “hmm”. on some days he recoils when he sees blood and guts, on other days he’s so apathetic it’s unnerving
sam sympathizes with the brought back mary and castiel more than ever. dean tries to get sam to remember things he’s forgotten from his childhood but sam can’t connect with it anymore. he stopped being that sam a long time ago. dean doesn’t know what else to do than try to force this connection to be revitalized and he fails. sam isn’t that person anymore and this wedge in their relationship becomes a central factor in dean’s s6-10 desperation and isolation. sam is here and safe but it’s not really sam, not the sam dean grew up with
while sam has forgotten how to make coffee, he now knows everything about angels, effective torture tricks, a bunch of lore + biblical history, how to navigate hell, the most powerful and influential demons, rare and powerful spells as well as perfect enochian (he will speak enochian without realizing and it feels more natural than english). lucifer and michael were surprisingly talkative (raging about the unfairness) when taking their anger and hatred out on sam and adam and each other. sam had access to all of lucifer’s memories and knowledge for the time he was the one in control. walking library and encyclopedia of biblical lore.
he still has some muscle memory from hunting and sparring, but sam is ghostly thin and very rusty. even though he’s an expert on lore, he’s not fit to go on hunts anymore and he knows it.
sam remembers adam and swears he’ll try to get him out, but he can’t. just thinking about the cage makes him vomit. he can’t talk about it, much less go near it. after a while sam thinks it might be better to let adam stay down there than let him come back up and feel this crushing emptiness and loss of direction
sam’s trials take place in s9 instead of 8; coinciding with dean’s villain arc. for sam the trials are a chance to redeem himself again, this time for good by closing hellgates forever. they’re scrubbing him clean of the demon blood and his sins and they give him a sense of purpose again now that he can’t join hunts anymore. it doesn’t matter if he dies because of it. it would be nice with a permanent and peaceful death that did something good. dean is taken aback by sam’s devotion to repent for something that happened years ago and for something sam has already paid for a thousand times over. dean realizes how messed up he himself has become and how he’s helped put sam here, on the cusp of self sacrifice again because of sickening guilt and self hatred. dean begs sam to not complete the trials at the cost of his own life and swears he’ll better himself, be a friend and a brother, not a jailer, dictator or a murderer. ‘if you won’t give yourself or life another chance, please give me one.’ ---> s10 pacifist dean learning to let go of the control, the violent tendencies and the rage
oh wait what if gadreel still possessed sam after the trials to heal him but sam is the one who invites the angel in? he’ll keep his promise to dean about staying alive, as well as heal from the inside and have breaks from the world when he doesn’t want to be present, like he and gadreel will alternate being the one in control. he keeps it a secret from dean and helps gadreel imitate him so dean won’t notice. it’s not so bad, being possessed by this angel - sam can say no anytime and gadreel is a nice guy. since they alternate on who’s present they can access each other’s memories, which is terrifying and embarrassing at first, but since gadreel and sam have been tricked and used by lucifer and been punished for it for far too long, they understand each other. now another creature knows their trauma and terrors without the need for verbal explanation. also having an angel residing in his body makes sam feel like he can hunt properly again because gadreel can heal him and take over in situations sam’s overpowered. this could show how messed up sam has come to view himself and his body.
dean is conflicted when he finds out; sam lied but gadreel does help sam heal, sam’s traumatized and his self-worth is fucked up and dean has contributed to that. dean convinces sam to push gadreel out, that sam is still valuable, loved and a good person who shouldn’t be in a place where he views his body and mind like a property to be occupied. sam’s faith begins to come back bit by bit, not in god, but in himself, his brother, in the good things in life. they build their little family; sam, dean, castiel, the hybrids, whomever of their allies that are alive at this point.
castiel can heal sam and dean’s wounds but they are never completely gone; they leave scars and phantom pains. the brothers have SO many scars over the years. dean flaunts them to impress people because he likes the questions and the fearful admiration, the attention and the nods of approval. sam hides them.
when dean is in a bad mood or needs to get his mind off of things, sam just drops something like ‘i don’t get the deal with led zeppelin. one of the most overrated bands of all time’ and dean will go OFF every single time about the entire led zeppelin history, their discography and how they’ve shaped rock music. this will go on for hours and sam will zone out after 1 minute. but dean rants nonsensically the entire drive and it does get him to think about something else for a little bit. they stop at a motel and dean is STILL ranting while brushing his teeth. stops when going to sleep but without fail picks up where he left off the morning after and is so into it he doesn’t notice sam not paying attention at all. we could see this once in s1 when they’re searching for john, another in s3 when dean is anxious about his deal coming to an end and then again in a later season, when sam doesn’t remember to ask/doesn’t have the patience or mental capability, so they’ll sit there in tense silence, showing how much they’ve changed.
---> i can see this SO clearly in my head, how they’ll get in the car and we, the audience, will recognize the camera angle, the same lines and dean’s grumpy mood, and we’ll anticipate what comes next. but sam isn’t that kid anymore and he’s not peeking at dean to gauge what his mood is and how much of a shit eating grin he should wear when being an annoying little brother to cheer dean up. now he’s looking out the window, leaned back, they’re not looking at each other. this shot is a minute or two long, uninterrupted. dean turns on music but neither are singing along or doing anything to lighten the mood.
s1-5: sam gets hooked on demon blood, dean has an alcohol problem. when sam goes through withdrawals, dean decides to quit drinking and joins him because he wants to be supportive, and he realizes that when he drinks two beers for breakfast there’s a problem
s6-10: sam takes painkillers, anti depressants and anti psyhosis meds to numb himself from the phantom pains and reduce post-cage effects. dean started drinking again after sam jumped and still does, but started smoking in addition because he still drives a lot and doesn’t want to die in something as pathetic as a car crash.
there a scene in an episode in the first half of s8, when sam has decided to stay with dean instead of amelia, and dean has rejected benny in favor of sam, and then the brothers sit in a couch watching tv while drinking beer and neither of them look particularly happy about it - that’s how their relationship is a lot of the time. they know they’re fucked up and neither of them will ever be truly happy when the other’s around, but they owe each other so much and they don’t have to explain themselves to each other the way they do to others. they know each other so well, each other’s traumas and the things they’ve done, it feels fake and exhausting to try to be something other than the veteran hunters they are. misery loves company; they are miserable together but would be far more miserable apart and living a normal life. they do love each other, but neither of them are particularly happy as the show progresses. family is hell and so is the lack of it.
OK OK i mentioned it in part one, how i had my own very specific idea about how jack should come to be and here it is. long winded but (might just write a damn fic):
after lucifer was cast back into the cage, he is stronger than he has been in a long time (being in his true vessel helped him stretched muscles he forgot he had. and fresh air.) sam is pulled out of the cage and it leaves a rift in the magic and chains - the binding is weaker and lucifer must act fast to get out before it heals. the cage is still strong enough to hold two archangels, so lucifer has to become weaker somehow to slip out through the cracks. he can’t get out of the cage, but souls can come in. demons bring themselves and human souls as tools for lucifer to use. there’s not much he can do here - consuming them, eating them, touching them, dissecting them doesn’t give him what he wants
eventually lucifer realizes he must do like azazel and create something new of two halves, like when he created demons. he begins melding his archangel grace with a human soul. he tries with demons, but his archangel grace automatically purifies them and leaves them too weak. he must try with a human soul who is good. he finds the soul of kelly kline, who sold her soul to save a loved one. with her, the merging, works.
he has another self, a twin, a son, who’s half human and half archangel. half lucifer. the old lucifer will die but that’s ok, his desires, presence and self will live on in his new creation. the new lucifer barely makes it out of the cage, only able to due to its human side. on earth it creates a body for itself and takes shape, no longer a form of pure power and energy akin to the sun itself but now a person, reminiscent of kelly kline on earth and lucifer in heaven. they name themselves jack. jack searches for familiarity and finds it in sam, their old self’s perfect tool and another hybrid. jack finds a mentor in castiel, a younger brother and fellow angel with human elements. they do not find anything in dean, the key to his former self’s doom.
jack’s powers: their powers are like and unlike the angels because he is half archangel. jack has wings but sometimes they don’t work, or they’ll end up somewhere else entirely. their body is their own, not a vessel, so jack can’t possess people. doesn’t talk but people “know” what they’re saying or want because jack emits their emotions and thoughts to people they’re talking to like a radio tower. jack can also have this empathic connection and communication with animals. his mood affects the weather. immortal. reads minds. can remove a soul from a body and send it to heaven/hell by touching it, with practice they don’t need to touch a body.
other stuff about jack: the human/archangel nature means jack only need sleep and food once a week or so. eats only nougat and raw meat. because jack is a kid they nap a lot. levitates when sleeping. never blinks, stares intensely at everything. their eye colour changes based on their mood. eyes glow in the dark. normal humans who look at jack for too long experience memory loss, fainting spells or migraines and eye contact for more than 10 seconds give vivid hallucinations of their worst nightmares. always barefoot, often floats like 10 cm off the ground because they find it more enjoyable than walking. wears the wildest clothes they can find, nothing matches and nothing is weather appropriate
i have a very specific image of jack in my mind; they look like delirium from the sandman comics with the hair that looks like it’s underwater and the fishes floating around their head, here and here are examples. in live action this would look not good or maybe even ridiculous for sure but in animation... endless potential for angels and monsters to have super interesting designs sigh
castiel’s arc should end with him going from blind soldier, to the unwilling ruler of heaven, finding a place on earth with sam and dean, becoming closer with humanity and eventually a father of three (the hybrids).
#hbo spn#sam winchester#dean winchester#supernatural#iben spoke#ok i'm tired of looking at this now#i just needed to get these thoughts out of my head to get some peace and quiet#more character centric than part 1#and it turned into such a long post.... jesus#i should make a separate post for post cage sam headcanons#ana if you see this i'm so sorry to drag you into this mess but i wanted to give credit where credit is due
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SPN 15X14 Observations
So, for whatever dumbass reason, when trying to use my actual television, the cable refuses to work properly 8 times out of 10. BUT I was able to stream tonight’s episode on my computer with my cable network’s app. So, there’s that. Because of that, and since it’s easier for me to type on my keyboard than on my phone, I actually took quick notes and observations during commercial breaks. Here are those, then some more of my thoughts following. (And I’m sorry if any of these seem a bit incoherent. They were more my observations to myself. *LOL*
(everything else under the keep reading line since I got a bit rambly, and just in case anyone wants to avoid spoilers)
- Brothers being written a bit like characters of themselves rather than just themselves. (trying too hard?)
- Love Mrs. Butters. Actress really good. And the minor ret-con works with what we've seen.
- Sam more concerned about Jack. I think he understands him better, even though he hasn't seen much of him.
- "Ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy." (or something like that.) Good quote!
- Waiting for the catch.
- "Enjoy the world you're fighting for." (compare with Kevin's similar line: "I can't enjoy a world I need to save.")
- Mrs. Butters knows Jack isn't human.
- BOY did the shoe drop! But it was Sinclaire involved. Not surprised he took advantage of her natural protective nature.
- Wanted more plot for WHY exactly they still have Thor's Hammer. Have they had it this whole time? Last we saw Sam dropped it in 8X2. Or did Mrs. Butters conjure it up because they might need it? Was cool though that Sam was using it. Because we already know he can.
- Jack figured out on his own how to use the projector. (love that boy!)
- liked hearing him talk about what happened with Mary and how he feels.
- Mrs. Butters knows from experience about needing "second chances" I think.
- Why were they ALWAYS wearing the same clothes during the "We got one!" montages? Assuming it was supposed to have taken place over several days at least if not longer. (I highly doubt they went out on THAT many hunts in one day.)
- Yeeeah... So I get she's protective, but JACK IS BABY! She can clearly see his power levels but she has to have seen how he he actually IS? But she gave him the smoothies from the start, so she's been planning it from almost the start. Hrm.
- idk what anyone else says, I'm thrilled that Sam and Eileen had a date. Also, THIS is where that sweater-vest comes from. Bet we'll see him going for his gun too. (That clip was hotly debated in one of the discord servers I’m on)
- Dean is obviously still having some issues with Jack, but he also seems to know that they're his personal issues and he knows that Jack is good. (Expanding on this thought post episode, I was seeing this as Dean recognizing the difference between what he knows and what he’s feeling. So, yey! Personal growth!)
- DEAN JACK IS NOT A BATTERING RAM!!!
- Dean sees Jack as a weapon. He used him as a battering ram. He'll use him as a grenade to throw at Chuck. (More on this after the notes.)
- Sam sees him as a person. His argument was that Jack was someone he cared about. That killing him would HURT him.
- Also, did they HAVE to go for the fingernails again?!
- Poor Sam, getting tortured. And being the "favorite" of something bad.
- Also, SAM WAS RIGHT! To be cautious of her at first. Too many times he's had things/people seem good and turn out opposite.
- And because Dean had decided it was all okay, they both stopped looking up on her.
- Maybe Sam will realize that he doesn't always have to follow Dean's lead. He can pursue his own paths. (Not talking about them separating. Just, if he wants to look into something, he should do it. If he wants to follow a different lead, he should check it out.)
- I know he lost a lot of confidence last season but I hope he realizes that he doesn't by default make bad decisions.
- Okay, that was a good resolution. I'm glad she's going back to her people.
- Interdimensional geoscope: Dean saw nothing. Because ALL the other universes are gone. *sad-face*
- Love Sam and Jack. Wish we got a bit more. But it was something.
- Also love that Dean tried. That felt real to me. (the birthday cake)
More thoughts!
So. Overall I liked this episode. It was lighthearted mostly, but touched on some serious topics and wasn’t completely disconnected with what is going on with everyone, despite the random holiday montage. *LOL* (Yes, I know she wasn’t bending time or anything, she was just choosing to celebrate some holidays with her boys regardless of when this is all taking place exactly.) It did feel a bit to me, at the start anyway, like the writing at least was trying too hard to “Sound like Sam and Dean” instead of just them being them. I mentioned that at the start but what I mean is, in this season especially (but not exclusively) I’ve noticed a lot of times where it feels to me like the writing/directing/whatever leads to the sum total of what we see is trying too hard to present this idea of who the characters are, like caricatures of them. The things associated with them get emphasized, sometimes out of proportion. Though in this episode, it only felt like that during the opening scene and maybe a few places elsewhere. Overall I thought the writing and especially the acting on the parts of the main 3 guys and the guest actor were well done and had a lot of nuance when needed. Like, as an example, when Sam and Dean sussed out that this being that they didn’t even know was a bit behind the times, they were actually pretty gentle with bringing her up to speed. And her reaction to realizing that everyone she knew before was dead felt very real.
I liked what we saw of where each of the characters were emotionally this episode. It was the first one after Jack has been re-souled and it had definitely been weighing on my mind how everyone was doing. (Though I REALLY wish we could have actually seen Sam and Dean’s reactions to Jack tearfully begging their forgiveness last episode. But lacking any other input, I’m headcannoning that Sam gave him a very long, warm hug.)
I also agree with Sam, I think there’s something more that Jack hasn’t told them yet, probably some details about Billy’s plan that he or her are sure the brothers won’t like. (Now, what exactly that could be is very much up in the air. I can think of quite a few options, but the details aren’t really important to me just now. Just the fact that something about it is weighing on Jack. More than just Mary’s death and the prospect of having to kill God. Which, in and of themselves would be more than enough.)
Speaking of Sam, I liked that we saw all those little nods to how he feels about Jack, how he’s still worried about him, and seems to understand him.
I also get where Dean’s coming from. And I thought it was well-portrayed. And let me just say, I am GLAD that he just outright told Jack where he was at. He didn’t sugarcoat it, but he also didn’t blow up at him, or reply with sarcasm or bring up other, unrelated stuff. Dean knows that Jack is trying, but he himself has some emotional stuff he needs to deal with. That he is dealing with. And it’s going to take him some time.
I do however stand by my observation made during the episode that at least at that point in it, Dean considered Jack a weapon. An asset. He literally used him as a battering ram, and in a more meta way, he’s planning on using him as a grenade to throw at God. Even when arguing with Mrs. B about it, his response was in reference to Jack’s usefulness. Whereas Sam was arguing that Jack meant something to him, that he cared about him, and hurting Jack would hurt him. Now, I do think that Dean’s POV had shifted a bit by the very end. Dean’s love language has almost always been shown by doing things for people, and taking care of them. So him making that birthday cake for Jack really felt to me like him trying to tell him that he does actually care about him. And I think Jack got it. And true, the cake might not have been as neat and pretty as Mrs. B would have made it, but I thought it was beautiful because of all the thought that went into it. (Dean’s more of a cook than a baker too.)
As a side note, something I thought about after the episode: when Mrs. B stepped in, she kind of took over that care-taker role. AND the research role. She made them lunches, cooked them dinners, decorated for holidays, and overall made them feel comfortable and safe. And she also pin-pointed where monsters were and made sure they were all stocked-up and ready to go. All they had to do was show up and get it done. And yeah, it must have been a nice break from the norm. But I also think about how much Dean finds his identity beyond hunting in taking care of people. And how much Sam finds his identity in researching and figuring things out. And with her doing that, they both took it easy on those ends. Dean didn’t have to make burgers for everyone since Mrs. B made a roast. Sam didn’t have to research since she could tell them where the monsters were and what kind. I almost wonder if both of them were starting to feel like those parts of themselves were all of a sudden unnecessary. (Which makes me a little sad, because it reminds me a bit of the “two cakes” concept in fandom. Who cares if someone else can “do it better”? If you do it, then there’ll be even more of the good thing!) And as I observed above, Sam also stopped looking into HER. I mean, he didn’t even know what would kill a wood nymph. And I do think part of that also goes back to him having recently fallen back on letting Dean make the big decisions. Because last season so many of his blew up in his face. (Though I don’t think most of that was his fault. But Sam tends to blame himself for a lot.) And I do hope that maybe he’ll remember that he does have good instincts when he listens to them. And he can keep looking into something even if Dean thinks it’s fine. It’s not a betrayal to be prepared.
ALSO! Being the absolute Saileen hoe that I am, even though we didn’t Eileen in this episode, I was thrilled that Sam went out on a date with her because she was in town! And true, we don’t know what all went down, but regardless, I see it as good that they’re at the very least still friends, and that hopefully Eileen is sorting out her own feelings vs whatever she might think could be Chuck’s manipulations. Even if Saileen isn’t Engame (and honestly, as much as I love it, I don’t think it will be) I would still like for them to be on good terms with each other. (And for her to NOT get fridged again!)
Another thing I was pondering afterwards and a bit during: I wasn’t surprised that Sam held up to the torture fairly well. I mean, it still obviously hurt! (And again, WHY with the fingernails again?! As someone in one of my discord servers mentioned, we didn’t need THAT particular call-back to the Christmas Episode of Season 3!) But he was listening to what she was saying. And he understood the implications that she had been tortured into acting how they wanted her to act. And Sam understands torture, and how it can mess someone up. And despite what she had done to him, and was trying to still do, he validated what she had been through. He empathized with her. And that.... it’s just SO Sam!
I will say that the resolution felt a little... abrupt. Like, her expression had changed a little during the fight/argument. Then back from the commercial break and she’s all packed-up and ready to leave and they’re all saying goodbye and wishing her well. I feel like there might have been some more scenes or parts of scenes that were originally there connecting things up more, but were cut for time.
I wouldn’t say this was a groundbreaking episode, but it WAS fun, and it did have some seriousness at it’s core, and I think it did what it needed to do.
(And I apologize if this is just a big rambling mess. I’m not used to doing structured episode reviews. *LOL* Feedback and opinions are welcome though!)
#spn 15x14 spoilers#spn season 15 spoilers#episode review#my thoughts#ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy#sam winchester#dean winchester#jack kline#mrs butters#i still need more sam and jack
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The Play’s the Thing
You drove your royal blue 1968 Chevy Nova home from town to the bunker. You were coming home from rehearsals at the community theater production of Meet Me in St. Louis. You had the lead part of Esther Smith, as was played by Judy Garland in the movie.
You told Dean you were meeting your best friend, Ruthie, for a couple of drinks at the bar on the edge of town. You didn't want to say anything to the boys about being in the play, because you didn't want them to make fun of what you were doing.
Truth is, you liked the theater, because you got to pretend to be a different person. It wasn't the same as what you did impersonating the FBI to question witnesses. That was just a name change. In the theater, you became that person, that character. And you were good at it.
You parked your car in the garage and checked to make sure you had all the make-up off of your face. Good thing you checked, because you still had that brightly-colored lipstick on your lips from rehearsal. You reached into your glove compartment for the make-up removal wipes. Ever since you started rehearsals, you've stored the wipes in there for just this purpose.
Dean looked up and smiled as you came down the spiral staircase. "Hey, baby, how was drinks with Ruthie?" he asked as he wrapped you in his arms.
You leaned in and gave him a glad-to-be-home kiss. "Mmm, it was good. Since I had to drive, I chose to drink soda instead of my usual," you explained. "I missed you," you said softly.
Dean dove in and recaptured your mouth with his, running his tongue along your lower lip to request entry. You parted your lips enough to let him in as he explored your mouth with his tongue. "Missed you too, baby," he murmured. "Come on, dinner is ready. Can you please help me put it on the table?" he asked.
"Absolutely," you replied as Sam, Cas and Jack came in, and upon seeing you, offered you their greetings. You greeted them back as you put dinner on the table. Dean followed behind you with plates and silverware, which Sam set around for him.
"This looks wonderful, Dean. Thank you for making dinner," you said as you nudged his shoulder. He had made a beef roast and vegetables in the slow cooker. Dean nodded and nudged your shoulder in return.
As you took care of the dinner dishes, you practiced one of your songs for the production that had been giving you some trouble. It was The Trolley Song that you were having problems with, remembering the words. When you were in the middle of the song, you turned around to see Dean watching you from the doorway. A smile was on his face as he asked what you were singing.
"It's from my favorite musical, Meet Me in St. Louis. It-It's been kind of on my mind lately, and I guess the song got stuck in my head," you explained.
Dean wandered over to the sink while you continued to wash dishes. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled your neck. "I love you," he murmured against your shoulder. You closed your eyes and melted into his touch. "I love you too, Dean," you replied softly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Weeks went by, and the closer it got to opening night, the later and later at night you had to stay for rehearsals. Dean was becoming a bit concerned at your late hours, and at the fact that you were around less to help with cases. You told him you had decided to volunteer at the local library in town. It was open until 10:00pm, and he seemed to relax a little.
The longer you were coming home late, the more Dean started to wonder if something else was going on with you. He turned to his younger brother for advice.
"Something's not right with her, Sam. She's been coming home late at night, and she's always tired. Her face sometimes has a lot of make-up, and I mean way different than what she usually has on," Dean finished.
"What do you think it is?" Sam asked.
Dean hung his head. "I think she's seeing someone else," he said.
"No way, Dean! Anyone can see how much she loves you. She would never do that to you," Sam replied.
"Then why do I sometimes smell some other guy's aftershave on her shirt? Still think she's not cheating?" Dean retorted.
"Dean, I'm sure there's a logical explanation for what's going on," Sam offered.
"I wish I could believe that, Sam," Dean said sadly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sam decided to see what he could find out about what you were doing. One day, he asked to borrow a lore book from you that was on your nightstand in the room you and Dean shared. With your permission, Sam went in to retrieve it and noticed your script from the play sticking out from under the bed. He picked up the script and went to the library to confront you about it.
"What's this?" Sam asked, showing you what else he found in your room.
"Where did you get that?" you whispered.
"It was sticking out from underneath your side of the bed. What are you doing with it?" Sam continued.
"It's nothing, Sam, give it back to me," you demanded.
"Well, if it's 'nothing', then why do you want it back so badly?" Sam countered.
"If I tell you, will you give it back to me?" you asked. Sam nodded.
"I auditioned for the play, Meet Me in St. Louis being put on by the community theater. I got the part of Esther Smith, which is the lead part. All these late nights I've been putting in? Rehearsals. The closer we get to opening night, which is this Friday, the more we have to run lines and make sure everything's in place. So I end up being out later at night," you finished.
"So, you're not volunteering at the library?" Sam asked.
You shook your head. "I told Dean that as a cover for why I was out so late every night. I feel awful for not telling him the truth," you replied, tears threatening.
"Why haven't you told him?" Sam inquired.
"If you remember, I haven't told any of you, either. Only reason you know is because I didn't hide my script well enough," you chuckled. "Truth is, I didn't know how you guys would react. This is something I love and I found out that I'm really good at it. I just didn't want you guys to make fun of me," you said in a small voice.
"We would never do that! We love you and if this is something you really want to do, we totally support you. When and/or how are you going to tell Dean?" Sam wondered.
"For right now, I want to keep things as is. But, I'll get Opening Night tickets for the four of you, best seats in the house. All you have to do is convince him to go, since I know musicals are so his thing," you added with a chuckle.
"I'll see what I can do to get him there. Hey, I know! I'll tell him we're going to see a movie, but I'll bribe George to tell him it's sold out. He'll offer Dean the theater tickets as compensation, then I'll grab them and insist we go to your play. I'll tell him Jack should experience live theater as part of his 'education'," Sam grinned conspiratorially.
You thought for a minute. "That might actually work, Sam. You're kind of an evil genius, you know that?" you remarked.
"Why, thank you. Hey, don't you have rehearsal today?" he asked.
"The director gave us the day off to kind of de-stress before the big push towards Friday. I'm so nervous. I have so many lines, I don't want to forget anything. I'm also hoping my voice holds out for all of the singing I have to do," you replied.
"You'll be fine," Sam assured you. "There's a reason they chose you for the lead, and it's because they are confident that you can pull it off. And don't worry, I'll keep your secret."
"Thank you, Sam. I knew I could count on you," you murmured.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Opening Night came, and you had to try and make it out the door before Dean saw you. With keys in your hand, you made it to the garage, only to see Dean leaning up against your car.
"Going somewhere, sweetheart?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest.
"Headed to town for a couple of things, then I have my volunteer shift at the library. Was there something special you wanted while I was in town?" you added.
"No. But, when you get home, I think you and I need to have a talk," Dean remarked.
"O-Okay, Dean. I'll be home as soon as I can after everything," you replied. "I love you."
"I love you too," he added hoarsely.
On the drive into town, you thought about your garage conversation with Dean. You wondered what he wanted to talk to you about, and why it looked like tears were about to fall. For the time being, though, you had to concentrate on your lines and song lyrics for tonight's performance.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I told you, Sam, she's seeing someone else!" Dean thundered.
"Dean, she wouldn't do that! She loves you too much to ever break your trust like that," Sam tried to assure him.
"She just left here, saying she'd be home late because of her volunteer shift at the library. You know how I know she's seeing someone else? I went in to the library the other day to surprise her. I didn't see her, so I thought she might be on her break or something. But the head librarian, Mavis, said she hasn't seen her in months. I told her I wanted to talk to her when she got home tonight," Dean remarked.
"Maybe it's not what you think though. You'll find out when you talk to her. So while you're waiting to talk to her, let's go out and do something. We could go to a movie. I think they're showing those David Yeager movies you like so much. I saw that they're having a festival of his films. Come on, Dean, it'll get your mind off of what's going on with you and her," Sam suggested.
"Fine. Let's get Cas and Jack in on this too. The Four Musketeers," Dean replied.
When they got to the ticket counter, George informed them that the David Yeager film festival was indeed sold out. According to plan, he pulled out an envelope and held up the theater tickets you had given Sam.
"Great, we'll take them!" Sam said as he whisked them out of George's hands. He opened the envelope and whistled. "Wow, front and center. Can't ask for better than that."
Dean was walking back to the Impala as if he had no intention of going to the theater. "You guys go. I'm going home to wait to talk to my girlfriend," he said sadly.
"Dean, these are great seats, and there's just enough for all of us. It's good to try something new. You never know, you may find something there you've never seen before," Sam added.
"All right. But if I do this, you have to agree to watch two David Yeager movies with me," Dean replied.
"Done. Let's go," Sam said. The four of them walked to the theater and handed over the tickets. Once they were seated, Sam said he needed to use the restroom and excused himself. He made his way backstage, where he knew you'd be. After some convincing, he was allowed to come back and talk to you. Sam told you that Dean, Cas and Jack were all out front, and that the rest was up to you. You thanked him and sent him back to his seat.
The curtain came up, and you listened intently, waiting for your cue to enter. Once on stage, your eyes wandered over to where Dean was sitting. His eyes locked on yours and his mouth dropped open. You winked at him and went on with your performance.
As the play went on, you glanced over at Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack. Each man had a look of admiration on his face, but you also saw the love in Dean's eyes as he watched you.
At the end of the play, the cast all came out to take their bows. Someone gave you a gentle shove forward, separating you from the rest of the cast. As you took your bows, you blushed, and looked over at your boys. They were all standing up, clapping and cheering their loudest for you.
After you had changed out of your costume and wiped off the make-up, you were invited to go out with some of the cast. You politely declined, telling them that you would be meeting up with your friends and boyfriend.
When you met the boys by the backstage door, you were immediately met with words of high praise. Sam, Cas and Jack all gave you a hug. They told you how impressed they were with your performance and remarked that they didn't know you could do that. Sam glanced at his brother and offered to take Cas and Jack back to the bunker in your car. You handed over the keys and you and Dean parted ways with them.
You suggested going to the diner for a late-night slice of pie. Dean took your hand in his and smiled at you as you walked. You and Dean sat down in your favorite booth and each ordered a slice of pie. While you waited, you asked Dean what he wanted to talk to you about.
"It's nothing, not important anymore," he answered.
"Dean, you seemed upset when I told you I would be home late. Then when you mentioned wanting to talk, I could swear you were almost in tears. Something's wrong, and whatever it is, I promise you can tell me," you assured him, taking his hand in yours.
Dean took a deep breath before answering. "Okay. With all of the late nights, the make-up all over you, Mavis saying you hadn't been at the library in months? I thought you might have been seeing someone else. It sounds ridiculous now, and in my heart I know you would never do that or anything to jeopardize what we have. I'm so sorry sweetheart, and I hope you can forgive me for even thinking something like that."
"There's nothing to forgive, Dean. I guess I can see how you might think that something was going on. It's my fault, and I'm sorry for keeping that from you. I wasn't sure how you'd react, and the theater is something that I'm good at and that I've grown to love.
"But you're right--I would never do anything that would ruin what we have. I love you too much to ever hurt you, especially like that. You are my world, Dean Winchester, and without you, my life just doesn't make sense," you finished.
Dean moved over to sit next to you in the booth. His index finger gently traced along your jawline. "You were amazing tonight," he marveled. "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. Watching you up there, I've never seen that side of you. Kinda hot and sexy, baby," Dean remarked as he pulled you closer to him.
Your lips met and you felt the depth of his love for you all in that one kiss. He moved from your mouth to kiss that sensitive spot behind your ear. "I have an idea, sweetheart. We should get that pie 'to-go', then adjourn to more private settings, hmm?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. All you could do is nod, you were so caught up in his kisses.
Dean signaled for your server and explained that you would like to take the pie with you instead of eating it there. He paid the check, got the pie and you climbed into the Impala, snuggling up close to Dean for the ride home.
You took the pie slices to the kitchen and put them in the fridge for later. You went down the hall to the room you shared with Dean. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your shoes, wiggling your toes.
A few minutes later, Dean walked through the door and over to stand in front of you. Dean hooked his finger under your chin and tilted your face up to look in his eyes. His hand moved to cup your face while his thumb stroked your cheek. "So beautiful," he murmured.
You scooted a little farther up on the bed until you were more in the middle. Dean followed close behind, crawling up to your position so that he was hovering over you. He leaned down to capture your lips with his in a fiery, passionate kiss. Your mouths moved in sync with a hunger neither of you had felt in quite some time. At a certain point, you broke apart long enough for both of you to shed your clothes and meet under the blankets.
"I missed you, Dean. I love you so much," you said between kisses.
"I've missed you too, sweetheart. I love you," he returned.
#dean winchester#deanxreader#dean winchester x reader#spn fanfiction#spn fluff#spn imagine#supernatural
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Suptober Day 3 - Royalty
“Come on, Dean!” Charlie wheedled from outside the tent. “We’re going to be late!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean grumbled, finally pushing open the door in his handmaid’s get-up. “You know they can’t start without you, your majesty.” He bowed low and flamboyant and ridiculous.
Charlie laughed brightly, grabbing her friend by the elbow and tugging him along, “I’m so glad you could come, Dean. It’s been way too long since you visited Moondoor.”
“Who’s Dean?” Dean asked with a wink, “I’m Led Floydar, the last in my line.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow, “Led Floydar?”
Dean shrugged and grinned. Charlie just shook her head, falling back into character and picking up her pace so that Dean… Led lagged a few steps behind as a handmaiden should. She had to admit, despite the terrible name, it was nice to see Dean out of the context of world-endy dangers and real-life monsters eating people. Ever since his first dabble with LARPing, Dean had been ever so subtly dropping hints that he may be needed in Moondoor again, so Charlie, in an attempt to help Dean save face, had organised this event that she absolutely couldn’t get through without her handmaiden and had begun to pester Dean about it until he (after turning her down twice), got scared that she wouldn’t ask again and accepted.
She rolled her eyes, knowing that he couldn’t see her. As smart as he was, Dean sure was an idiot sometimes. Of course Sam would tease him about it, but it’s not as though either he or that dreamboat of an angel would actually think less of him if he admitted that he liked LARPing and wanted to go more often. It’s not as though he had much else to look forward to in his life of killing and blood and saving the world. What was so wrong with letting himself find joy in wearing some chainmail and pretending to be a queen’s handmaiden?
Stupid toxic masculinity, stupid societal pressures that tried to enforce conformity. Stupid Dean being too bullheaded to let himself do something that he liked just because he wanted to. Men were so delicate and exhausting. It was times like this that she was so glad she was gay.
They made their way through the camp towards the gathering area where there were tables set up and steaming platters of food were being brought out by those in servant’s garb. There was to be a feast in honour of the Queen of Moon’s fifth coronation day and Dean had better appreciate all the string-pulling and electronic favours she had had to do in order to make it happen. Led Floydar would be needed to serve her. To show up without her handmaiden would be a sign that her staff didn’t care for her enough to celebrate with her, which would call into question how fit she was to rule (or at least, that was how she sold it to Dean).
In reality, it was going to be a big party with lots of mead, speeches and food, and with a battle with the shadow orcs scheduled for the next day, there were going to be a lot of people pairing off with their best ‘last night on earth’ lines.
A hush fell over the crowd as Charlie approached, her crown balanced expertly on her head and her faux-fur trimmed velvet cloak just shy of brushing along the ground. She kept her chin high and her back straight and the smile that crept onto her face was genuine. She loved this, she really loved this. It wasn’t even being treated like royalty, though that part certainly had perks, it was the thrill of being so lost in a game that the reality outside just didn’t really matter. All of her boring worries about laundry or her next electricity bill or that firewall her boss had been hounding her about, none of it would make any sense in Moondoor, and so, it didn’t bother her. She stepped slowly towards the throne at the head of the table where those in the livery of knights and diplomats from other realms and guests of honour and stood in front of the seat, catching Led out of the corner of her eye. He fell into his proper place just behind her throne, his hand near the hilt of his sword, just in case there was trouble, but they were expecting none tonight.
“My loyal and valued subjects,” she began, scanning over the tables. Many were people she knew from her daily life, others were familiar only in Moondoor, others still were people that she had only spoken to online. She might not know all of them, and she certainly didn’t rule over them, but they were her people nonetheless. “Welcome to the celebration of the beginning of my fifth year as your chosen Queen of Moons.” She paused for applause here, and those more raucous, those playing hedge knights and drunkards and jesters, obliged her with a lot more noise than strictly necessary but the quietened after a moment, helped along by Led’s glower. “I am honoured that you once again deem me a fit ruler, as one who will serve your needs with as much dedication as you serve mine. Moondoor is a great kingdom, the greatest kingdom, and it is home to the greatest of people. These past five years have not been without their challenges, but my failings have been met with nothing but kindness and support and I- I just want you to know how much I truly appreciate that.”
Damn it, she was actually tearing up. She took a breath and saw her emotion reflecting back at her in dozens of other faces. They all understood. Moondoor was special to them too. She smiled and sniffed, swallowing any more tears. Led stepped forward and placed a polished silver goblet on the table in front of her before filling it from a nearby jug of wine and falling back into place, a quiet, proud smile on his lips.
“So eat, drink and celebrate, my friends! To another year of prosperity!” Charlie finished, raising the goblet before her, waiting until everyone else followed suit and echoed her before taking a long drink. The wine was sweet and fruity and flowed over her tongue like the promise of summer. She then sat on the padded seat of her throne and motioned for Led to fill up a plate for her before sitting at her side so they could enjoy the feast together.
“Nice speech, your highness.” Dean muttered quietly, in between mouthfuls of roast pork and parsnips.
Charlie grinned and swallowed. “It helps to be honest,” she said. “We all find Moondoor for our own reasons but one we’re here we’re family. You get it, you’re one of us now too.”
Dean snorted and looked out with amused scepticism over the tables of laughing people who dressed up and played pretend for fun, who used each other and this world they’d built as an escape from whatever awaited them back home. His expression softened then, turning fond eyes back to her.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think I do.”
Charlie smiled at him, and then ordered Led to refill her plate so she didn’t have to get up. Sighing happily with her full goblet she leaned back into the cushions. It was good to be queen.
@winchester-reload
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#suptober#suptoberart2019#spn fanfic#day 3#royalty#charlie#larping#dean winchester#prompt#writing#TibbinsWrites
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Chapter 5
Title: Falling for the Holidays
Pairing: Dean x Reader AU
Word Count: 2627
Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children. However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”
Warnings: Crack, Language, flirting, fluff, Suggestive Language
A/N: Chapter 5 is here! Thank you to everyone for saying such nice things about the previous chapter(s). You guys are so awesome! I mean that! Please tell me what you think. You guys are my fuel and you guys also brighten my day!
Series Masterlist
The next morning, you found yourself wrapped up in Dean’s arms, his nose buried against your nape as his breath fanned on the sensitive skin. The man was a cuddler which used to annoy the hell out of you, but for some reason, this time you hoped that he’d never let go. The feeling it gave you was foreign, something you would imagine what home felt like, but how would you know? The home you’d grown up in never once felt like a home, and that was the only home you’d ever known.
As the lights in your mind began to click on, one by one, things around you began to come to life. The sounds of birds, the rumble of cars passing by, the soft snores seeping passed Dean’s lips, something poking you in the back…
“Dude,” you barked, only loud enough to wake Dean.
“What?” He mumbled, cracking an eye open to look at you, waiting for his vision to focus. You gave him a pointed look, which was enough for him to know what you were talking about. “Dude, I’m a dude,” he grumbled back, not one bit phased.
“Then tell your little dude to move,” you reprimanded.
“But he likes it here,” Dean whined, shifting behind you until his boner found its way between your ass cheeks.
“Dean!” You shrieked, snorting all the while. Dean laughed along with you, guarding his body as you sat up, taking your pillow and whacking him. “You’re such a perv!” You couldn’t stop laughing. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” You continued to smack him with the fluffy cushion.
“Alright, alright! I’m sorry,” he managed to say between his own laughter and your assault, “I’m sorry!”
A knock on the door made the two of you stop in silence, staring at the entrance way, hair a flopping messs. “Everything okay in there?” Sam’s voice pierced through the door.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you called out, Dean curling his body and catching you in his arms again, forcing you on your back. “Dean!” You squeaked, giggling at his playfulness.
“Uh, o-okay. Um… breakfast is ready if you two aren’t busy to join us.”
You stared over at Dean, his sleepy eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just finishing up!” Dean called, tickling your sides and causing you to squeal.
Sam clearing his throat from the other side of the door was heard, and you and Dean stifled a laugh. “You’re terrible,” you snickered.
‘Hey, he can believe what ever he wants, but I was serious when I said that we’re just finishing up.”
“Oh yeah? And what exactly are we finishing up?” You questioned, curious to know his answer.
“Waking up.”
Laugher befell you at his response. “You’re such a goof, you know that?” Throwing yourself back on the bed.
“And you love it, admit it,” Dean chuckled.
“Oh, I don’t deny it. You’re my big dork!” You confessed, rolling on your side to face him. His brilliant smile and eyes meeting yours. “We should get ready and head downstairs. They’re expecting us.”
“What ever you say,” his eyes trailed down to your lips. Flashbacks of last night returning to your mind. He was so close, just like how he is now, his warm breath barley touching your lips. Why was he so inviting? Was he teasing you? What was he trying to do?
“C’mon, let’s get ready,” you pulled away, sitting up and jumping out of bed. Dean watched as you bolted out the door.
Letting out a deep sigh, Dean fell flat on the bed, running his hands down his face. “What the fuck are you doing Dean?” He spoke to himself. “She’s your best friend! That’s it! So stop wanting to kiss her!”
A few minutes later, you returned, finding Dean still in bed. “Okay, bathroom is all yours, you chirped, smiling and jumping onto the bed beside him. Dean didn’t bother saying anything and got out of bed, shuffling out of the room. You tilted your head, brows furrowing, wondering about Dean’s sudden change in mood. You figured that he was still tired. When he came back, you were all dressed, pulling your hair up into a high ponytail. “Hey, I’ll meet you downstairs, or you want me to wait?”
“I’ll meet you down there,” Dean forced a smile. Like an open book, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t mention it. You hoped the day would cheer him up, or get him out of whatever funk he was in.
“Okay, see you in a but,” you smiled, pecking his cheek and slipping out the door. Dean’s face went red as he watched you leave. He wanted to feel your lips against him again. Longer. Preferably, on his lips.
“Well, well, well,” Jess cooed as you entered the kitchen. “Where’s your other half?”
“Getting ready,” you replied, a sheepish smile adorning your lips.
“Sam told me the two of you were having a little fun this morning,” she wiggled her eyes.
“Jess!” Sam whisper-shouted beside her, while Mary and John sniggered.
“Sam, you can think whatever you want to think,” you laughed, taking a seat at the edge of the table. “This all looks great, by the way,” you complimented.
“John cooked,” Mary revealed.
“Really? Then I need to taste this!” Your eyes lit up. John laughed.
“I can cook too you know,” he stated, “My forte is breakfast. Ask me to roast a turkey, and we’ll end up eating out.”
“Ah, memories,” Sam played, making everyone laugh.
After gathering a little bit of everything, and a little extra bacon, you dived in. Moaning in delight. “Holy shit, this is awesome!” You mumbled, mouth full of food.
“Now you sound like my son,” Mary joked.
“You mean our daughter,” John winked. Dean was right. He definitely got his charm from his father. His comment had your cheeks heating up.
“Alright, alright. Nothing is set in stone yet,” Dean laughed, taking a seat next to you. “Hey,” he greeted, giving you a wide smile. You gave him a questioning look, but he didn’t seem to notice and began filling his plate. He seemed to be back to normal.
“Seriously, Dean? Do you need to eat all that bacon?” Sam admonished. “Why don’t you have more fruit?” Sam lifted the bowl of fruit, passing it to Dean.
“Whoa, whoa, get those things away from my bacon!”
Mary laughed while John smiled, reveling in having their boys back home.
“So, what are the plans for today?” Mary questioned.
“Well, Jess and I were thinking about going to a play. They’re doing the Nutcracker down at the theater. Did everyone want to come? The more the merrier,” Sam smiled, with a hopeful smile.
“Actually, John and I were hoping for the house to ourselves. You know, while the children are away, the parent’s will–”
“Whoa, whoa! No!” Dean and Sam shouted!
“Actually, I was planning on showing Y/N around town. Show her where I came from,” Dean smiled, taking your hand in his.
“Really?” You asked.
“Yeah. And we’ll be out all day, so dress comfortably.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Please, Y/N. Save that for the bedroom,” Dean teased, winking at his brother and parents.
You were confused at first, until it hit you. Sir. He was referring to sex again. “Dean!” You scolded, pushing him away from you.
After breakfast, you and Dean headed back up stairs to prepare for the long day. He wouldn’t tell you where exactly he was taking you, claiming that there were lots of places to see, and lots of things to try, so you didn’t press any further, trusting him. He had never steered you wrong before so there was no need to doubt him now.
“Mom, Dad? Sammy! We’re heading out!” Dean called into the seemingly empty house. Without thinking, Dean grabbed your hand and flashed a set of keys in front of your face. The look of your perplexed face was enough for him to know what was going on in your head, or what was not registering in your head. “Dad’s letting me use the Impala.”
Your eyes widened, a grin spreading on your face soon after. “Seriously? Dude that car is gorgeous!” You jumped, squeezing his hand tighter. That was when Dean realized that he was holding your hand, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to.
He leads you to the car, opening your door for you like he always has before getting into the driver's seat. As he turned on the ignition, the roar of the impala sent chills down your spine, making you visibly shake and giggle enthusiastically.
“Who’s the big dork now?” Dean teased.
“Still you, Dean-no,” you didn’t hesitate to reply. Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled.
Tearing out of the driveway, you cheered as Dean laughed along. You admired the interior, inhaling the smell of the leather. It somehow made you think of Dean, like Dean and leather was a two in one combo. It was strange, or perhaps being in the actual car, is making you realize that this car was meant to be his.
“Listen to Baby purr!” Dean sang.
“Baby? Her name is Baby?” You asked. “Who came up with that name? Your dad doesn’t seem the type.”
“Actually, I gave her that name. I’m the only one who calls her that,” Dean admitted, not one bit ashamed of it. He loved the Impala, was proud of it. In his mind and heart, the impala was destined to be his.
“That’s actually… really cute,” you giggled. “Hi Baby, I’m Y/N. Once you’re all Dean’s make sure you tell him to let me drive you,” you muttered to the car, petting her dashboard.
Dean started laughing, finding you incredibly adorable. The fact that you loved Baby almost as much as he did, made the butterflies in his stomach go ablaze once again. He would love to see you in the driver’s seat of the impala, in fact, just imagining you in the driver’s seat made his crotch pulse, but not enough to get him too bothered.
“Keep on dreaming. Once this beauty is mine, no one is ever driving her. I don’t trust my Baby to just anyone.”
“Hey! I am a great driver!” You protested.
“Oh yeah, that’s why you’ve got a gold medal for reverse parking, stopping, turning, and a certificated for most likely to run a red light,” Dean dissed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, pal. That was one time! I paid that ticket. And! Reverse parking is hard!”
“Only because you’re so tiny,” Dean laughed.
“Call me tiny one more time and I will bite your arm,” you threatened, immediately faltering Dean’s chuckles. He looked over at you, switching from you to the road, in attempt to read your expression. He knew that you’d do it, but he wanted to know if you were serious or not. “Oh, I’m always serious, Dean.”
“Okay. Fine. I give.”
“Good boy,” you joked, ruffling his hair.
It didn’t take long to reach town. It was bustling with shoppers and people basking in the chaotic atmosphere. Usually you weren’t the type for crowds, but if the vibe was right, it was nice, and right now, you wouldn’t mind being another face walking down the streets.
“Want to look around? Maybe bring something back for Cass and Jo?” Dean put the offer on the table, noticing that maybe you’d want to walk around, take a look at the shops.
“Really?”
“Yeah, we’ve got time. There’s places here too that me and Sammy used to hang out at. Places were me and Cass would hang out after school.”
Giggling, you smiled out the window, “I can’t begin to imagine what you and a young Castiel would be doing when the two of you hung out. How you and Cass are best friends still keeps me up at night. The two of you are so different.”
“Hey, opposite attracts.”
“Dude,” you laughed, “that only works with magnets and romantic relationships. So unless you and Cass are secret lovers, and just haven’t come out of the closet yet, it just doesn’t work like that. Sorry to break it you, Sweet Cheeks.”
“Hey! That phrase works in all sorts of context!” Dean retorted.
“Yeah, well not to me. So, you’re either gay, or there is just something I ain’t seeing. You pick.”
Dean parked the car, grumbling to himself, or more like reassuring himself, saying things like, “I like women. I’m only attracted to women. I am straight as a straight line.” You couldn’t help but cackle under your breath. Sometimes Dean was such a drama queen, and you loved to tease him.
“Alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” you remarked, getting out of the car just as Dean had. “I was only kidding.”
You never realized how many cute stuff was on sale. You even bought your neighbor’s kid, Jack, something from the toy store in town. He was going to freak at the lightsaber. That kid had an imagination that surpassed any famous fiction writer. Spewing stories about a magical half man, half angel that saves the world from evil. Jack was certainly an entertainer when it came to storytelling.
“Hey, let’s look in here. I’m sure we can find something for Jo. She used to come into this place almost everyday,” Dean explained, walking into an antique shop.
“Seriously?” You questioned, looking around at what looked like junk. But you had to admit, there were some pretty cool things. “Hey, look at this. The Book of the Damned,” you wiggled your fingers for some eerie effects, even if it was lame. As you opened it, you realized it was a Halloween recipe book.
“Whoa, what about this!” Dean shouted from somewhere in the store. You followed his voice, finding him standing in front of a huge telescope. “Wonder how far we could see with this bad boy?” he asked, peeking through the lens.
“Up Uranus,” you answered all too quickly, catching Dean off guard and sending him doubling over.
“What the hell?” He gasped. “That’s just wrong.”
“I don’t know, it was the first thing that came to mind and the first thing out my mouth.”
The two of your perused further into the shop when you found the Christmas decorations. You were admiring a train set when Dean called your name. “Y/N, hey, look.”
Spinning on your heals, you flinched back a little when you found Dean directly behind you. “Whoa, personal space,” you whined, not bothering to pay attention to what he was actually doing.
“Look up you dope.” Following his instructions, your eyes fell on the mistletoe in Dean’s hand, hanging above him. “It’s a tradition. Lay it on me,” Dean smirked, being all smug, like he was such a smooth criminal.
“You’re a big dork, remember that,” you giggled, pecking him on the chin.
“Oh, c’mon. That’s not the way it works,” Dean cried, pouting like a child, which made you laugh.
Licking his lips until it was smothered with spit, he puckered them, leaning in to kiss you. Shrieking and laughing, you tried to get away from him, but the train table kept you in place. While Dean was leaning in, you were trying to pull away, the both of you laughing like morons. Dean was about to get his shot in placing a very wet kiss on your cheeks when his face went from big smiles to seriousness in a blink. By the look in his eyes, he was clearly searching past you, distracted by whatever it was.
“Dean?” A woman’s voice rang from behind you. When you turned, you were met with a pretty brunette and a little boy at her side, maybe around Jack’s age.
“Lisa?” Dean murmured.
Say Something Nice Here!!
Falling for the Holidays Tags: @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @winchesterprincessbride @amanda-teaches @dancingalone21 @a-winchester-fairytale @dolphincliffs @oneshoeshort @brewsthespirit-blog @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @atc74 @natasha-baggins @heavymetalhauswife @linki-locks11 @spnwoman @veevm @chameleah86 @kdcollinsauthor @claitynroberts @roonyxx @rainflowermoon @ladylaylo @closetspngirl @mirandaaustin93 @salt-n-burn-em-all @flamencodiva @fangirlanotherjust @tabbyjane
#dean winchester x reader AU#dean winchester series#dean winchester#reader insert#dean x reader#spn au series#supernatural#falling for the holidays#squirrel-moose-winchester
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Groundhogs in Sweaters
PBExchange gift for @gemoedstoestanden! 2.4k (Ao3)
“You ever think about what our lives would be like if the monsters looked like how they were supposed to?”
Sam frowned, marking his place with his finger before lifting his attention from the book he was reading. “What do you mean?”
“Like fairytales,” Dean continued. “The monsters in fairytales are never like how they are in real life. Wouldn’t it be cool if they were?”
Sam’s mouth twitched, his elbow coming up to the table so he could lean closer to Dean. “Like what?”
“Dragons, for one.” Dean snorted, petulantly. “They just looked like people! Garbage. I want a big fuckin lizard. With wings! He could be my new steed.”
Sam snorted back. “I’m telling the impala.”
“Don’t you dare!” but Dean was still smiling, delighted by this exercise he’d started. “Witches, too. Screw spells that need ingredients and body fluids.” Dean shuddered. “Why can’t there be magic wands? Wands are way cooler than bones of saints and all that shit.”
Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “And you called me ‘Dumbledork’?”
“It’s just more sanitary, Samantha!” Dean threw a napkin at him, kind of ruining his point about cleanliness. “And people would probably not get as dead.”
Sam shrugged, allowing the point. “Sure. There’s always gonna be bad beings who want to hurt people, though, Dean.”
Dean grimaced, throwing another napkin at Sam. “Whatever. At least if I had real genies instead of frickin djinn, I might get real wishes. And Robin Williams is awesome.”
Sam barked a laugh. “Interesting you’d go for Aladdin over I Dream of Jeannie. ”
Dean lifted up his hands in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way. “Listen: Barbara Eden was hot in her day and I’ll catch a rerun when it’s on. But Robin Williams is forever.”
Sam laughed again in what Dean took as agreement.
“We deserve some freaking wishes by now. And a freaking dragon friend.”
Sam cleared his throat to dislodge some of the chuckles still coming out. “We have another kind of winged friend,” Sam mused. “You can try and make Cas your steed.”
Dean wasn't sure what kind of expression he made, but it must have been really something for Sam to throw his head back and laugh like that.
After that conversation with Sam, things got a little bit weird around the bunker.
To start with, Dean kept having to shoo mice and squirrels outside. It wasn’t super uncommon to find rodents–-they were underground and the bunker had been uninhabited for decades before the Winchesters got there. And they did mostly like to hide in dusty cleaning cabinets or disorganized storage rooms. The weird part was that the squirrels and mice and occasional rabbits Dean had to wrangle outside were all wearing tiny clothing.
Dean really should have found this more odd than he did. Truth was, he barely spared it a second thought. Yeah, animals were wearing clothes now. He’d seen weirder.
But it didn’t stop there.
There was also a lot more fruit in the bunker kitchen. This, in itself, wasn’t a huge red flag. Sam was still a health freak and the brothers had gotten better about keeping healthy food in the house for Jack now that the kid was (mostly) human.
The weird part was the food looked… inviting.
As a rule: Dean didn't eat apples unless they were baked into a pie. He thought the skin was waxy, the shape of the apple fit oddly in his mouth, and the simultaneous wetness and dryness of the fruit just made the whole eating experience very unpleasant.
(He was not wrong about these things.)
The apples in the bunker in the past few days just looked really delicious, though. Dean couldn’t explain it. So he ate them.
They weren’t amazing as foods go – Dean would still choose a baguette over an apple as his side at Panera – but after eating them, he weirdly had more energy. It was like a full night’s sleep. But only sometimes.
If he ate an apple at night, it actually helped him sleep. If he ate an apple at night before a hunt, he could swear his eyesight got sharper.
When he tried to tell Sam about the weird apples they’d gotten, Sam just tried to tell him that eating healthy meant you got healthier and that’s why Dean had been feeling so good.
And Dean might have believed him if it weren’t for the last thing.
Dean had just been innocently washing his face in his room.
He looked up in the mirror and winked at his reflection. “Hey, good lookin.”
“I’d tell you to ‘hey yourself’, but you literally just did.”
Dean jumped, eyes darting around.
It had sounded almost like Cas’s voice but Cas was supposed to be on a beer and pie run.
“Uh, hello?”
“Haven’t we already gone over customary greetings?”
Dean was still startled even though he was ready for it. There had definitely been a voice.
And it sounded like it was coming from the mirror.
Dean blinked at his reflection. The reflection blinked back, completely like normal.
Dean thought about waving his hand in front of it to make sure the mirror still worked, but he felt like that would be perfect ammunition for mocking if the mirror really was talking to him. So he refrained.
Instead, he said, “Uh, mirror mirror on the wall?”
“Real original, Dean.”
Yup, it was the mirror.
“Any follow up questions or do you just enjoy hearing yourself talk?”
Dean snorted and crossed his arms, a little offended.
“Any reason you can talk now? And why you’re kind of an asshole?”
If a mirror could have lungs, Dean would have sworn it had sighed. “I’m a magic mirror. It’s kind of in the job description to be judgemental. How else could I tell ‘the fairest of them all’?”
Dean tilted his head in acceptance. “Okay. But could you always talk? Why do you sound like Cas?”
“Well your angel, Castiel, enchanted me. Don’t you think you would have known you had a talking mirror by now if this wasn’t a recent development? I feel like you talk to your reflection a lot.”
Dean shifted on his feet, scowling. “You don’t know me.”
If the mirror had eyes it would have rolled them. “Okay, Dean.”
So that just left the question of why Cas had enchanted the mirror.
“Did Cas do something to the fruit in the kitchen?” Dean asked the mirror. “And is he why I found a groundhog in a sweater in my shower yesterday?”
“Probably,” the mirror said, bored. “I can’t say for sure – I’m magic but I’m not all-knowing. All I know is that Castiel enchanted me for a reason. That reason might have also made him do weird shit like that. He’s a weird dude.”
“That’s what I said!” Dean blurted before lowering his voice. “It’s really funny to hear you roast Cas when you sound like Cas.”
“I could go back to roasting you if you think that would be more appropriate.”
“Ha, no. No, it’s okay. In fact I think I’m just gonna–” Dean pointed at his bedroom door, making a hasty retreat.
He could hear the mirror call him a coward as he left.
Dean walked into the war room right as Cas was closing the door to the bunker.
“Hey there, pal,” Dean said, watching amused as Cas struggled to carry his giant grocery bags down the spiral stairs. “Need some help?”
Cas glared at him, already having made it down the stairs.
Dean grinned, walking forward to relieve Cas of one arm of groceries. Cas sighed, the relief of having some of his burden lifted obvious.
“Thank you,” he said, grudgingly.
Dean just winked. “Let’s get these to the kitchen.”
Castiel hummed in agreement, turning down the hall before waiting to see if Dean was following him. Dean trailed behind, watching Cas for any strange behavior.
If the mirror was right and Cas was doing all this weird stuff around the bunker, he would be acting differently, right? At the very least he’d be watching Dean to see how Dean responded to his new mirror friend.
And, if Dean was being picky, Cas did seem a little jumpy.
Cas was more delicate in setting his bags down once they reached the kitchen. Dean dropped his heavily on the table, making the cans in the bags rattle ominously.
Cas glared at him again. “You’re lucky the eggs weren’t in there.”
Dean shrugged.
Cas rolled his eyes, before turning to pull the fridge open, moving things around to make room for their new groceries.
Dean watched him, removing things from bags and putting them on the counter in Cas’s reach.
He was trying to be unobtrusive, waiting for an opening until he could ask Cas about the mirror, but Cas was doing everything wrong.
“No, Cas, why would you put bread in the fridge? Are you trying to dry it out?”
Cas turned, already frowning at Dean. “Cold temperatures preserve food for longer.”
“But it makes it taste worse, man.” Dean snatched the bread out of his hands, putting it in his designated bread drawer next to the oven. “Don’t mess with a good thing.”
He paused, thinking that that was a good a segue as anything.
“Speaking of,” he started, turning to lean his hip on the counter, crossing his arms. He was going for casually inquisitive rather than accusatory. “Any reason my mirror gave me attitude this morning?”
Cas froze, his arm halfway to the fridge weighed down by an entire case of beer. Or it would have been weighed down if not for friggin angel strength.
He turned to Dean with wide eyes. “Your mirror was mean to you?”
Dean rolled his eyes, his mouth quirking up. Of course that was the part Cas was focusing on.
“Not that mean, Cas. No meaner than Sam. I just meant why was it talking to me at all ?”
Cas shrugged, moving things in the fridge around so he could fit the case in. “I thought you might like it.”
Dean just blinked, waiting for Cas to continue.
Cas sighed, his shoulders slumping. Before closing the refrigerator door and turning to Dean.
“I heard you talking to Sam. About how monsters are supposed to be versus the reality.”
Dean frowned, the conversation coming back to him. He remembered only talking about monsters. Nothing weird had happened with monsters recently.
“Obviously, there’s very little I can do about how monsters work,” Cas started, lifting up his arms in a weak presentation of his current state. “Gabriel may have been able to, once upon a time, but he’s dead and I do not have the power of an archangel.”
“Okay…” Dean said, still misty on what Cas had done. And why.
“I still wanted to give you some fairytale things, though,” Cas said, looking sheepish for the first time. “And in my research, I’ve found fairytales have helpful wildlife. And magic fruit. And–”
“And talking mirrors.” Dean chuckled, wiping his mouth with his hand to disguise his amusement. “Were those animals supposed to be cleaning?”
Cas nodded, his shoulders slumped, sure Dean was making fun of him.
Dean reached forward, clapping him hard on the shoulder. “It’s great, buddy. Really. Very cute.”
Cas blushed. Dean didn’t even know he was capable of blushing. He grinned.
“But hey,” Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder again before pulling back and walking around to the table. “Where’s my magic makeover? Or my random musical numbers?”
Cas made a noise of discontent, glaring at Dean as he followed him to the table. “I’ve already told you I’m not powerful enough for illusions that big, Dean.”
Dean grinned, leaning over the table to get right in Cas’s face. “Well, what about a magic kiss? ‘True love’ garbage and all that.”
Cas turned red again, avoiding eye contact. “I think we both know the concept of true love’s kiss is fallible. For one, heaven’s system of love matching is largely defunct, so true love is truly subjective, and for another the practice of kissing someone when they are incapacitated – magically or otherwise – is highly–”
“Cas.” Dean was leaning even closer to Cas now, watching the panic in his eyes fade to suspicion. And then wonder. “Do I look magically incapacitated right now?”
Cas met his eyes, searching. “No…?”
“So would you say I’m fully consenting to my true love kissing me right now?”
Cas swallowed. “I–”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Just kiss me, Cas. Christ.”
Cas hesitated for just a second more before leaning in, cupping Dean’s jaw in his hand, and pressing his lips on Dean’s.
After which Dean immediately turned into a frog.
“How the hell does that even work?!” Dean meant to say, but instead just ribbeted since he was, you know, a frog.
“Shit!” Cas waved his hands helplessly over Dean’s amphibious form. “I forgot about this one. I don’t think I did it right.”
“You think?!” Dean croaked.
“It’s fine, Dean. Another kiss should turn you back.”
Dean ribbited again, more out of temper than anything.
Cas picked him up, gently, and placed him on the table before leaning and and putting his lips to Dean’s pointed, froggy mouth.
Dean blinked and he was human again, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, gasping.
“What made you think that was a good idea?!” Dean choked, putting a hand to his chest. He was a little overwhelmed by everything.
“I found a list of fairy tale tropes on the internet,” Cas said, face creased in utter humiliation. “I didn’t really think it through.”
Dean huffed a laugh as his breathing evened out. “Well, you undo the mojo on that one immediately. Because I want to kiss you again, this time without shrinking into a body covered in mucus.”
Cas’s eyes widened, like he was astonished Dean would even consider kissing him again.
Dean rolled his eyes, snapping and waving his hands in a ‘hurry up’ type motion. “Let’s go, un-mojo, I’ve been waiting years for this.”
Cas didn’t look like he did anything but Dean felt like he could feel a subtle change in the air. In any case, Cas grabbed Dean’s face with both of his hands to kiss him again and Dean did not turn into a frog.
Even without the magical shape-shifting, it was still a life-changing kiss.
#Destiel#oops I wrote a thing#PBExchange#Crack#Jessie writes Destiel fic#How am I even supposed to tag this?#For you Floor!#The original title was 'Choose Your Own Fairy-tale'#lol
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He can’t stop smelling something, it seemed trapped in his nose and no matter how many times he rubbed at it, it was still there.
Dean blinked at daddy who was sitting a few feet away at the table of their uncle's house, he was surrounded by papers and he seemed to be arguing with someone on the phone. He looked to the side where Sammy was laying on a blanket on the ground, hands curling and uncurling along the fabric.
Moving slowly he carefully made his way towards Sammy, reaching out to gently pet at his cheek. His brother blinked at him and gave a small gurgling noise. Moving closer to him Dean buried his face in Sammy’s back and breathed in deeply, trying to get rid of the other smell.
Their uncle came through the room and smiled at the both of them, holding a brown package in his hands as he went to the kitchen. The kitchen door closed behind him and Dean turned his attention back to Sammy.
Sammy smelt clean, daddy had given both of them a bath yesterday and Sammy still smelt like the soap and diapers. His baby brother was looking at him, his blue eyes giving way to hazel that Dean couldn’t stop looking at, they were more interesting than anything else in the room and he curled closer to him.
Daddy got up and kneeled next to them, reaching to stroke over their heads, murmuring lowly that lunch was going to be ready soon and if Dean wanted, they could try to go to the nearby park again.
He looked up when he heard a loud banging noise coming from the kitchen with small hints of white smoke escaping under the door. Dean swallowed hard as all of a sudden his mouth was filled with saliva and he could feel his body shake.
The kitchen door suddenly opened uncle was muttering something under his breath and waving his hand, he could see more smoke in the kitchen trying to escape-
-The smell of cooking and burning meat rapidly filled the room and before Dean could stop himself his entire body locked up and he threw up onto the carpet.
<center> ------- </center>
Mom smelled like flowers and a hint of something sweet clinging to her hair, most likely the shampoo that she had last used when she had last been alive. Dean clung to her and fought the urge to bury his face in her shoulder, feeling all of four years old again for a moment.
He breathed in deeply, a bit selfishly if a corner of his mind was willing to admit, just savoring the feeling of her arms around him again. Her skin was just as soft as he remembered and her scent triggered all sorts of memories that he thought he had forgotten.
She held onto his hand as they walked towards a town, needing to just find a car for them to hot wire to get to the bunker. Her hands were soft too, he could remember her hands stroking over his face and head, wiping tears away and soothing him, and he squeezed it, reveling in how she squeezed back.
Everything was a blur as they managed to find a car and got onto the road, driving as fast as he could to show Sam that it was mom, that she was back, that she was alive and was going to be with them again. The entire car ride they spoke, he didn't want to tell too much, after all Sam had plenty to talk to her too and he would no doubt want to talk to her about everything they had faced too. He also refused to let go of her hand, terrified that if he let go she'd disappear again.
They quickly got her different clothes to change into and then they were on a straight path to the bunker, Dean couldn't stop smiling the entire time, just watching her and letting her flowery scent surround him as much as he could.
But then once they got to a silent and empty bunker, with nothing but a blood splatter on the ground and no Sam, the smile faded and Dean let himself go onto the warpath.
<center> ------- </center>
Dean moved on the bed, curling up into as small a ball as he could hold onto the sheets tightly. His eyes were shut closed as much as he could and he could feel himself trembling. He could almost feel small pinpricks attacking his skin and he coughed, feeling his throat close up.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe and he coughed again. He uncurled himself and fell back onto the bed, trying to force himself to breathe and then he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.
Fire danced in front of his eyes and that same smell filled the room and he coughed harshly, his entire body wracking from its tremors.
"Dean, hey buddy, it's okay." came daddy's voice, and his hands were suddenly there and rubbing at his back. Dean leaned into him and held onto his shirt, trying to breathe in as best as he could.
Daddy smelled like something that reminded him of being outside, of climbing a tree and smelling the dirt on the ground, his hands were a bit rough and calloused but familiar and Dean reached out to hold onto his fingers tightly, the only parts that he could really wrapped his hand around.
"It's okay Dean, it's okay." daddy repeated in a low murmur, holding him close and continuing to rub at his back. "C'mon kiddo, breathe for me."
Dean tried to obey as much as he could, coughing once more but eventually managing to take in a few deep gulps of air.
"There we go." John murmured, his voice low and soothing. He shifted the both of them until he was sitting on the bed and just holding Dean close to him. "Think you can try to sleep again?"
Dean just shook his head, ducking under daddys' chin and just curling up against his chest. He didn't want to go to sleep again, didn't want to deal with anything again.
"Talk to me Dean." daddy whispered, a small pleading tone in his voice. "C'mon kiddo, say something, please."
In an answer Dean just curled up tighter to him, trying to breathe through his mouth and focusing on him.
<center> ------- </center>
After the whole fiasco with the British Men of Letters, and what douches they were, kidnapping and torturing Sam, trying to kill him and mom, they had the gall to turn around and ask for all of them to work together.
The memory of seeing Sam tied up and obviously tortured on the chair in the basement, the image of Mary choking as that British bitch cursed her, it made his fingers twitch and wish that he had just done what he wanted and put a bullet straight into both of their heads.
But taking care of his brother took priority over needing revenge, there would be time for revenge later on, he assured himself, and he needed to focus on Sam and helping him recover.
He had to half carry Sam into the car and through the bunker, his brother could barely stay awake but he obviously forced himself to, just staring at their mom who met his gaze with a small almost sad smile.
Once he got Sam into his room and set him on the bed he quickly went to his bathroom to grab the first aid kit, wanting to bandage everything and set things as right as he could.
He smelled the scent of burned flesh before he saw it and he quickly saw the source, a long harsh burn mark on the side of Sams foot, that was the worst of it, but there were a few other spots on Sam's body that had been burned. They had been bandaged beforehand and Dean fought the urge to bare his teeth at it, breathing easily as he ignored the now familiar smell.
He moved quickly, seeing how Sam was close to nodding off, he needed sleep more than anything else, and Dean's hands moved fast in what he hated was a familiar route, bandaging and cleaning all the wounds that he could reach. His hand came up to stroke at Sam's hair and he watched his brother finally fall asleep.
Later that night when he went to sleep in his room, relaxing into the mattress and closing his eyes all he could dream about was an engulfing flame and the overwhelming scent of burned flesh.
<center> ------- </center>
Dean stared down at the book on his lap, not really seeing the pictures or the words. Aimlessly he turned the pages one after the other and when he reached the end, he started it again.
His eyes flickered up to the kitchen, his throat closed slightly but it slowly passed, where he could hear daddy and his uncle and aunt arguing with one another. He didn't know what they were saying but daddy's voice sometimes got a bit louder before quieting again so he was sure it wasn't good.
There was a small rattling sound and he looked at that instead, seeing Sammy banging an old rattle against the ground, seemingly enthralled with it and the sound that it made.
Abandoning the book Dean moved towards his brother, just watching him as Sammy watched the rattle in fascination. When he realized that Dean was close by he held the rattle out to him.
Dean reached out and gently took it from Sammy, shaking it and making it rattle as well. Sammy's eyes were wide as he stared at the rattle that was now in Dean's hand, his head following it's shaking slightly.
Dean sighed and gave the rattle back to Sammy, who wrapped both hands around the handle and banged it against the ground. Dean reached out once more and stroked his fingers along the back of Sammy's hand, ignoring how their daddy's voice got louder once more.
Sammy stared at Dean's hand then and let go of the rattle, reaching out to grasp at Dean's fingers instead, tugging and pulling at them lightly.
Despite everything Dean felt himself smile slightly and he laid down on the ground next to Sammy, letting him play with his fingers as he wanted.
Daddy's and everyone else's voices faded into the distance, he had no idea what they were talking or arguing about and it didn't matter. All that mattered was Sammy playing with his fingers and the slowly filling warmth and the smell of his baby brother surrounding him.
<center> ------- </center>
Each night was the same after that, nightmares of burning and burnt flesh roasting in flames filled his vision and he couldn't do anything to make them go away. Sometimes he watched his mom burn again, pinned to the ceiling. Sometimes it was Sam. Other times Mary was on the ceiling, Sam was tied to a chair, burning in the same room. Skin melting away to bone and it would always wake Dean up with a scream in his throat.
There was no reason to have these kinds of nightmares anymore, he was semi passed his time in hell and more importantly he had both his brother and their mom back in their lives.
But they happened, and they continued to happen with a horrifying increasingly. So in an attempt to stop the nightmares he did the next best thing, he tried to avoid sleep as much as he could, catching small naps here and there to keep going.
Whenever he got too deep into his sleep, the scent of fire filled his head and he immediately jolted awake, more often than not he felt a hell of a lot more tired than he had before.
It also didn't escape Sam's or Mary's view that the bags under his eyes were deepening and not going away.
"Dean, what's wrong?" Mary asked, her gaze piercing through him that was hard to ignore.
Dean cleared his throat and managed to look away, only to meet Sam's just as intense gaze as well.
"Nothing's wrong." Dean protested, drinking deeply from his cup of coffee, extra black, no milk, no sugar, just caffeine. "Everything's fine, we're all together."
"Dean, you have enough bags under your eyes to stock up the supermarket." Sam told him. The burns had faded from his skin and everything else had healed over, except that slightly haunted look in his eyes that sometimes deepened. "C'mon, talk to us."
"Nothing to talk about." Dean said with a shrug. "Now I don't know about you but I'm starving so I'm going to start lunch, any requests?"
Neither Sam nor Mary looked convinced but they didn't protest or try to push the subject again.
"Not really." Sam said, leaning back in his seat, not looking away from his brother.
"Me either." Mary added, doing the same.
"Alright, good, chef's choice." Dean said, as he got up from the table, taking his cup with him, he missed the shared look between Sam and Mary.
<center> ------- </center>
Dean tossed and turned on the bed, hating the space, hating that he could smell smoke in his nose, hated everything about it.
He didn't dare look up at the ceiling as he turned in the bed, gripping onto the blanket. He rubbed his face against the pillow, trying to rub the smell away to no avail. He was able to breathe this time so it made things a bit easier.
Finally after what seemed forever he sat up and got out of the bed, sliding down and letting his feet hit the ground softly. He hesitated but then moved towards the living room where daddy and Sammy's crib was. Daddy was sleeping on the couch and he kept the crib in the living room with him. Dean had the other room and a bed but now...he didn't want to be there.
He glanced at daddy who was asleep on the couch, he wasn't moving really so then Dean turned his attention to the crib. He slowly walked towards it and gripped at one of the bars, looking through it at his brother who was sleeping too.
Biting down on his lip he reached for the lock on the side of the crib that he had seen daddy use and carefully opened it, letting the side of the crib open and slide down to the ground.
Moving carefully, he climbed into the crib, trying not to jostle Sammy too much. His brother shifted but stayed asleep, a pacifier in his mouth. Dean curled around his brother tightly, hand coming out to grip at his blanket and he felt himself relax a bit more.
He started when he felt someone touch his back and wide eyed he looked over his shoulder, tears gathering when he saw that it was daddy. He couldn't really see daddy, it was too dark in the room, but he knew his hand and he knew his eyes, those were clear in the moonlight.
Daddy's hands moved to slide under Dean, slowly picking him up from the crib. Dean gripped at Sammy a bit desperately but then loosened it a bit when he realized that daddy was also picking up Sammy too.
Daddy moved them so that he could hold them both close to his chest, Dean reached out for one hand to hold onto Sammy and the other to hold onto daddy's shirt. He moved the both of them into the bedroom again and laid down on the bed, still holding them close.
"It's alright Dean." John murmured to him, his voice soothing and relaxing him more and more. He moved them so that Dean was in the middle, Sammy was on one side and daddy was on the other. "It's going to be okay."
Dean slowly felt himself relax more and more, sighing as he felt so much more sleepy than before. He didn't let go of Sammy or daddy, content in staying where he was. Daddy's arm moved around the both of them and he curled around them.
He could smell his daddy all around him with a slight hint of Sammy’s baby smell as well, and those things more than anything, helped to relax him.
"It's going to be okay Dean."
<center> ------- </center>
Dean sighed as he fell into the bed, holding onto his sheets for a moment before he let go and turned onto his back, closing his eyes before he could see the ceiling. Despite how tired he felt he knew that he wasn't really going to be able to sleep tonight, just like every other night, but at the very least his bed was comfortable enough not to move just yet.
Only a few seconds passed before his door opened. He bit back a groan and forced his head up and eyes to open, only to blink when he saw his brother and mom. Both of them were wearing pajamas and had a pillow tucked under their arm.
Not saying anything Sam moved to Dean's left and Mary moved to his right. Sam shoved Dean into the middle of the bed and placed his pillow on the bed, copied by Mary who did the same.
The both of them laid down, needing to press close to Dean to not fall off the bed or have any limbs falling over the edge of the bed.
"Okay, I'll bite." Dean said finally, feeling rather squashed in the middle of the both of them. Mom was small enough that he could move around her, it was Sam that was a giant and therefore took over the bed almost completely. "What's going on?"
"What's it look like?" Sam asked back, moving around and trying to get comfortable as much as possible. "We're all sleeping here tonight and for all nights as long as we need to."
"Why?"
"Because you can lie as much as you want, you can't hide the fact that you're not sleeping." Mary told him. "So we're going to be here to make sure that you can sleep. And we're not going to leave until we know you can sleep by yourself again."
"Guys c'mon, this is ridiculous, there is no way there is enough room on this bed for all of us." Dean protested, trying to move his arms.
Sam moved his leg to lay across Dean's and over Mary's legs, sliding one arm under the pillow and the other draped over his chest. Mary was doing the same, sliding her leg under Dean's leg instead but doing the same with her arm.
"We'll all manage." Sam said. "And if we need to, we'll move rooms and find a bigger mattress."
Dean rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, but he couldn't deny that it was incredibly warm in bed, not just from Sam being a damn heater, but the knowledge that it was his brother and mother in the bed with him.
The scent of fire and burning flesh slowly slid away from his mind and all he could smell was the faint smell of Sams soap and a scent that was just Sam that he knew better than any other. Mary's flowery scent also surrounded him and despite himself, he felt himself relax more and more.
His eyes fluttered shut and a small breath escaped him. Sam's and Mary's scent overpowered the lingering smell of fire and finally it faded completely and he relaxed more into the bed.
"It's going to be okay Dean."
#supernatural#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#365#253/365#365 day challenge#365 Days Of Writing#Sam Winchester#dean winchester#mary winchester#supernatural summergen
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14.15 - Peace of Mind
I thought I’d do one of these for the current season.
Meh is the word that comes to mind for this episode. Not great, not a stinker, just meh. Would I recommend it as a watch? Possibly as background while you are doing more important stuff like cleaning.
If it hadn’t already been yet another episode separating Sam and Dean in an entire season where Sam and Dean have been separated (with only a few exceptions), it might have been okay. I really don’t think I’m complaining needlessly. To put it into perspective, the people that I’m watching for (that by their own admission, the show say that the audience is watching for) had a grand total of 108 seconds sharing the same scenes this entire episode. 108 seconds and 50 of those were shared with Castiel. And I’m just trying to imagine any other show doing this. Like Starsky ditching Hutch constantly and going on investigations with side characters like Huggy Bear (because Huggy Bear is no longer just an informant, he’s an investigator because he’s a “fan favourite” character and his fans constantly ask, Where’s Huggy Bear so they made him part of the team even though he doesn’t fit). WTF even is this?
Moving on...
The story is credited to Steve Yockey/Meghan Fitzmartin and the teleplay to Meghan Fitzmartin. This is the one people were a little worried about, given Meghan appears to be an open Destiel shipper (which has no place in the writers room or for anyone working on the show - completely unprofessional for anyone working to do anything that might give rise to calls of bias). From what I can gather, Destiel fans appear to love Steve as they think any gay/bi character he writes is a parallel for Destiel. It isn’t and although Steve’s given us a mixed bag, he did give us the witch twins in Celebrating the life of Asa Fox and Twigs & Twine and Tasha Banes. I love the witch twins, great new, interesting characters that we no longer see because the show is obsessed with old, tired, done to death characters that only a very small, very loud section of fandom harp on about). Sighs tiredly and moves on.
Reading between the lines, I think there was a close eye kept on this one and I think it worked because I can’t for the life of me see anything at all that’s a nod to Destiel. If anything, the Sastiel shippers got all the cookies and good for them. Enjoy those cookies Sastielers! I’ll be over here drinking the hellers’ bitter tears.
I liked the opener, head go splody. Though the guy that played the gas station clerk was a very questionable choice by casting. If that had been his 1 minute, then fine, but no, we see him later in the episode and because of the known nepotism on the show, I’m automatically wondering if he’s child/brother/friend/third cousin twice removed of someone on the cast or crew because he is terrible (sorry kid, don’t listen to me, keep working at it, the only way is up).
Oh great, yet another Cass/Jack conversation. Cass is not the best at speaking to people as we’ll see later in the episode. Screams into the void about the distinct lack of Sam and Jack this season. I know we’re heading for something between them, but this is my problem (or one of many with Dabb). I think he has the weird view that if he rations the good stuff, then it makes it all the better when we get it. Not really, it just switches me off from watching the show. I want good every week, I don’t actually think that’s too much to expect from someone who is getting paid to entertain the audience and not bore them to death.
Anyway, Jack thinks his snake is sad and Castiel suggests it might be missing his former owner.
Ah, now Dean and Cass talk – is there a checklist? If so, it’s missing “Sam and Dean” on it. Interestingly, as I’ve pointed out many times before, their conversations revolve around other people; usually Sam, but Rowena and Jack get included, because “family”
Speaking of Sam, we switch to him and see he’s having flashbacks of the dead hunters, so he really isn’t doing good. Appears he’s trying to keep his mind off things by hunting constantly and has found another case. He walks in on the awkward silence between Castiel and Dean (not awkward because he caught them awkward, just awkward because they’ve got nothing in common, other than talking about Sam and Jack and when that runs out it’s just... awkward). Dean says he needs a break, but Sam’s leaving in ten. End of.
Castiel: Maybe I should go with him and you can stay with Jack
Dean: Why?
Me: * Whispers * because Dabb hates us and he’s passive/aggressive about it.
Castiel: You were right… Jack is struggling, and I’ve tried…
Dean (interjecting): Why do you think he’ll talk to me
Castiel: Because he looks up to you (Dean rolls his eyes, so I don’t have to), and his soul, I mean… you’ve seen this before...
Me (interjecting again): You really think he’s the right person to handle someone soulless after he beat Sam beyond the point he was already unconscious. Seriously? I’m with Dean on this one.
Dean: No, no, no, see I was not great with Sam. You know when he was…
Thank you show for acknowledging this.
Castiel: Jack’s soul isn’t completely gone. At least I don’t think so, we just don’t know how much is left.
As I’ve already seen in other posts, my instant thought on this is “You can’t do the fist check?” I’m really tired of wondering what powers Castiel still has and what he doesn’t. They seem to switch them on and off as needed.
Dean asks how he’s supposed to know. Castiel says just talk to him, get him to open up.
I completely understand why Castiel is not going to the obvious person for this – duh, Sam of course – because he feels Sam is overburdened as it is and going though his own issues, so this does actually make sense for me and I’m fine with people trying to keep him out of it while they try and deal with it (It will go wrong though).
Castiel is driving and I seriously have to question Sam’s driving ability at this stage since he’s either happy to be chaperoned around or they don’t trust him in the driver’s seat. Also, all the beautiful classic cars in the bunker and this is the clunker Castiel chooses to drive around in? Would some soap and wax go amiss?
We’re back with Griffin from earlier and least said about this scene the better. The guy is just terrible. Sorry, but he is and unsurprisingly, only has 1 other credit as “Asian teenager” before getting this part.
I love the drive through the town. It’s obvious something is going on with all the clothes dating back to I’m guessing the 50’s. Castiel: “It’s like we’re stepping into a Saturday evening post.” Sam at least knows what this is, he’s just surprised that Castiel does. I however have no clue, so had to google it and it’s a magazine that ran from 1897 to 1969. Here’s one of the covers:
Men doing menly things and women… I’m kind of not sure what she’s supposed to be doing. I think looking clueless at the engine. Anyway, Sam looks at Castiel who explains that he “looks at them sometimes after you fall asleep at night.” Sastiel for the win on this one! Who isn’t picturing Castiel sitting up on the bed reading while Sam sleeps, hmmm? Because as we all know, Castiel has zero boundaries when it comes to personal space and Sam’s not likely to call him out on it, because he’s used to having his personal space invaded..
I like that they are five minutes into the hunt and they already want to call Dean. They can’t though as no cell signal, so they are on their own.
We meet Justin Smith (the first). I like him, he’s swell. But he’s yet another clue that all is not right here, not least because he doesn’t know what a cell phone is. My first suspect of being a witch is his stepford wife, so we’ll keep an eye on her.
We head to Harrington’s for a milkshake. They’re looking around and the place is straight out the 50s, but I’ve been in diners that are set up like this, so it shouldn’t actually be that unusual. What is unusual, is that Sam accepts a free milkshake from the waitress (Sunny) in a town that he’s investigating and that clearly is under the influence of something. Let’s put this down to Sam being tired (*whispers lazy plot driven writing).
Chip points them to the boarding house where splody head guy was staying. I love the boarding house, but would have to change the outside colour. I also love that everyone knows who they are, and the owner of the guest house is no exception. Small towns really are like this.
Back with Dean and Jack. Jack’s trying out different food with the snake. Dean investigates a Chinese take-out container that he quickly discovers contains live mice and not take-out. He suggests going out with Jack for a drive. Jack is hopeful for a hunt, but Dean says more of a field trip. Jack’s okay with that, but first Dean wants bacon. Of course he does.
At the boarding house, Sam and Cass are shown to splody head guy’s room. Sam asks for coffee, leaving Castiel free to search the room. He finds some letters under the mattress and is reading them as Sam comes back. And I know Jared has large hands (beautifully in proportion to the rest of him), but I think there is an element of also finding the tiniest teacups they can get a hold of. However, since this scene gives us another Sam drinks tea gif, I’m happy. Anyway, the letters are from Sunny and are explicit from the sound of them.
Sam says great, they’ll look into it tomorrow. He wants to stay at the boarding house because the landlady is making pot roast. Oh oh. Castiel for some reason lets this slide and leaves Sam overnight.
We’re now at my first suspects home with Justin Smith (the first). He’s still talking about cell phones. He’s started to remember who he is. He runs out of the house and his head goes splody. Poor guy.
I’m really not sure that Dean’s test for whether Jack has his soul is legit. Choosing Angel food cake or Devil food cake. Jack looks like he’s going to choose devil food cake which arouses Dean’s suspicions but at the last second, chooses angel food cake. Dean heaves a sigh of relief.
It’s the following day and Castiel goes to check on Sam who isn’t there. I like Mrs Dowling, the landlady who is cleaning and dancing. She tells him Sam was going for a walk and a milk shake.
Sam is not at the milk-shop place, but Sunny is there. Castiel seems to be as pissed off as I am that Sam repeatedly gets referred to as “the tall one”. Sunny tells him about Mr Smith dying so Castiel turns up to Mrs Smith’s house to investigate. Yet another house I like. Where are all these beautiful houses in Vancouver? Anyway, Mrs Smith doesn’t look all that upset that her husband has died. Castiel says he’s looking for his “partner” and that he’s tall with “beautiful hair”. He could have added “drop dead gorgeous” but it’s better than just “tall” so I’ll let it slide. Mrs Smith is clueless, and I have to question if she’s a robot at this point.
Castiel goes to sit in a chair and Mrs Smith screams. I have the exact same reaction after I’ve cleaned everywhere, and someone comes in and starts dumping their stuff all over the place. Castiel starts speaking about her dead husband but Mrs Smith laughs and asks if Castiel has already had a martini today. We hear someone call “honey” and I don’t know why they tried to hide the person in this scene because Jared has a very distinctive voice so we know it’s him.
I love this next scene though. We get “agent” from Castiel, but Sam responds that he is: “Justin… Justin Smith” then asks, “And you are?”
Castiel (winking): Your partner
Justin (still smiling): Partner? Super, that’s swell, great…
Justin (the second), asks Castiel to stick around as they are “having pot roast”. This seems to be a 50s staple. Thank Chuck the 70s added prawn cocktail and blackforest gateaux. I like to give Misha his due whenever possible and his confused face here is brilliant. Mrs Smith is sent off to make a martini and Castiel tries to get to the bottom of things. He’s still wondering if Sam is “under cover”. But no, Sam really thinks he’s Justin Smith and married. Mrs Smith comes back during this and says they are low on olives and asks “one or two”. Justin is a fussy one though and asks for “three” and adds that he’s “feeling adventurous.” Mrs Smith does a perfect “rawrrr”, Justin responds awkwardly “roarrrr”. I just can’t with Jared in this scene.
I didn’t pick up on it, but with the three olives and “feeling adventurous”, added to Castiel’s wink and “partner” comment from earlier, other people are suggesting threesomes. If that’s the case, Justin seems up for it.
While Mrs Smith goes to get more olives (or slip into something more comfortable - who knows at this stage), Sam asks Castiel if he wants one (get your mind out the gutter, he meant martini). Castiel tells him “Your name is Sam Winchester…” Justin: “So that’s a no no on the hootch?” Castiel’s had enough and commands Sam to “snap the hell out of it.”
Justin: Sir, you watch your mouth, if we cannot remain civil, then you can skedaddle.
Castiel: Sam…
Justin: That’s not my name. (He grabs Castiel to see him out). “Cindy, grab his hat.”
Castiel: I don’t wear a hat
Cindy: Honey, I don’t think he wore a hat
Justin: Fine.
He shows Castiel the door. “Sir, using language like that; h e double hockey sticks (Sam shakes his head and waggles his finger). You should have your mouth washed out with soap.
Castiel: Sam…
Justin: It’s Justin! (slams door closed).
Dean and Jack arrive at a house, Donatello comes running out. He and Jack go inside to chat and Dean waits outside. I think the next bit was supposed to be funny when Dean taps the car to check on the snake then slides along to get away from it. It wasn’t funny. And that isn’t on Jensen at all, he’s a really funny actor, it’s on the material. Don’t force the comedy elements. Yellow Fever was genius, this attempt is lame.
Donatello and Jack talk about souls. And in sharp contrast to Jared with the ridiculous tiny cup earlier, could they have found a bigger cup for Alex? Donatello tells Jack that not having a soul is a lack of pity, empathy, humanity. He asks what Jack feels. Jack doesn’t know. He doesn’t feel nothing, but he doesn’t feel the same either. He just doesn’t want Sam, Dean and Castiel to worry. Donatello, “They’re your family. Families worry.” (Family mention box ticked – phew, I really thought we were going to get through an entire episode without one). Donatello tells him he always asks himself “What would Mr Rogers do?” Jack asks who Mr Rogers is and Donatello answers, “The best man I know.”
Jack: Sam and Dean are the best men I know. (heh!) Look, I know Castiel isn’t a man, just let me have my petty moment in peace!
Donatello suggests that Jack thinks of WWWD. What would the Winchesters do. But considering the Winchesters have continually sacrificed themselves for the other, I’m not so sure this is such sterling advice.
Jack returns to Dean and Dean asks Donatello if Jack is okay and does he have his soul.
Donatello: I suppose the first question we must ask ourselves is… what is a soul?
Dean (I am not in the mood for your shit): Donny...
Donny says to keep an eye on him but if he says he’s okay, he probably is. He goes on to say that Jack is the most powerful being in the universe, who knows what goes on inside his head. They both turn to the car and Jack gives a dorky wave. Dean is not in the least reassured.
Back at Harrington’s milkshake place, Castiel has decided that Sunny is the witch. He says to tell him the truth or he’ll rip it from her mind (keep an eye on these powers, I’m pretty sure they won’t work the next episode).
Turns out not to be Sunny, but the mayor, he has Justin (the second) with him and he doesn’t look amused, he’s at least a little mildly ticked off with Castiel.
We then get villain monologue – why do villains do this? – Just get on with it. Long story short, Chip can make people do whatever he wants. Sunny runs out during this - I don’t blame her - and Chip runs after her, leaving Justin and a couple of other goons to deal with Castiel:
Castiel (to Sam): I won’t hurt you, Sam
Justin: Golly, I told you my name is Justin!
Justin is a terrible fighter, even someone as bad as Castiel normally is manages to put him on his back (Sastiel for the win). Castiel’s actually doing well this fight, but Justin suddenly realises he’s got height and weight advantage and lunges at Castiel, taking him down. He sees Castiel’s angel blade and pulls it from his sleeve – and if this was Dean and Castiel, the hellers would be going wild right about now, about Destiel being end game and true love (because nothing says true love like one partner trying to kill the other). Anyway, for anyone interested in the whole top/bottom debate, Sam is on top, but he’s cowgirl in this scene so I’m calling this topping from the bottom. Don’t @ me top!Sam people!
Moving on, Castiel does that thing where he talks, and he shouldn’t. He says he knows what it’s like to fail as a leader. That Sam needs to fight and not lose himself, because if he does, he fails them, all of those they lost, he fails Jack. He fails Dean. Sam raises the blade and slams it down…
So, a couple of things on that. The narrative once again saying Sam has “failed” in some way kind of completely sucks. Done with Sam being told things like that and everyone else getting told they did good (*coughs* letting Lucifer out of the cage the second time around *coughs*). But I’m sure I’ll get hurt!Sam out of it and Dean seems to be the trigger word for Sam to snap out of things so toxic co-dependent bros for the win.
…Sadly the blade slams into the diner flooring and Castiel lives to hunt another day (tries to summon up a “yay” but fails miserably). But Sam’s back to normal (yay!!!).
They exit the diner to stop Chip, who TK’s Castiel through the air and tries to kill Sam. Sunny’s had enough though and uses her own powers on Chip, trapping him inside his own mind.
Dean and Jack are back at the bunker. Dean asks Jack if he had a good time, Jack: “It was… illuminating.”
Before Dean can process that statement, Sam and Castiel are also back. Dean not one to miss some good brotherly ribbing: “I heard you wore a cardigan.” Sam turns to Castiel.
Castiel: Yeah, I told him about the cardigan.
Jealous!Dean alert: And the wife. (Sam looks at Castiel again). He said you were�� really happy.
Castiel decides it’s time for him to exit stage left and goes to find Jack.
As usual with getting nothing out of the episode, the hellers are making a lot more out of the “off screen” conversation between the “hunter husbands” than merits. Of course Castiel told Dean what happened, it’s more than his life’s worth not to if Dean found out Sam had been in danger and Castiel didn’t tell him. The phone conversation would have went something like this.
Castiel: Now, don’t get angry, Dean. First of all, the important thing is that Sam’s fine... now...
Dean: WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?!
Back in Jack’s room, he tries to do what Sam and Dean would do. He thinks they would help the snake so uses his powers to Thanos the snake to the afterlife so it can be with it’s owner again in heaven. Jack, I really don’t think the owner would have passed the abacus good/bad test so no idea where you actually sent that snake other than purgatory. Camera pans out and Castiel is watching from the doorway. Parenting advice from me Castiel: you need to trust your teenagers and give them space. Constantly checking on Jack is just going to make him feel closed in.
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Full Circle: Part 7
Full Circle Masterlist
Pairing: Gabriel x Reader
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings/Tags: Winchester sister!reader, angst, revelations, more swears
Author’s Note: This was supposed to be the final chapter, but there was a natural break in the flow of things so there will be one more after this one. Also, the second GMC prompt was designed to fit into this chapter: Sometimes when you least expect it, you get saved.
Special thanks to @nobodys-baby-now for keeping me excited about my writing and all her awesome love today around this fic. BB I love you <3
***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission. Giving credit does NOT count. Reblogging is ok.***
<<Prev Chapter Part 7
Sometimes when you least expect it, you get saved, but it wasn’t always by the ones who should have been helping you.
“Where the hell were you?” You demanded as Cas and Gabriel appeared back in sight, your eyes blazing as you pinned the former with a dangerous look.
You had no idea where Cas’ ass had been that entire time. The moment Raphael had returned you had prayed for help, knowing the look on Gabriel’s face had not been a sign this was a happy family reunion.
Yet, your friend never came.
He never came when you told him you were face to face (or more accurately, neck to hand) with an archangel who looked seriously intent on taking a chunk out of you.
He never came when you felt a part of you being carved out as Raphael forced his grace inside you, the electrifying, detached energy tearing through your very being and making you feel as if you were being split into a million pieces.
He never came when desperation choked the words in your throat as Gabriel was pummeled with the holy light of heaven’s purest bedtime prayers, or whatever the shit smites were made out of.
And he certainly never came when you had a goddamn gun pressed against your head. Though you might have been beyond coherent thought at that point. Still, your connection to 1-800-dial-an-angel should have kept your so-called friend informed of your ongoing situation, which involved the most elevated level of fear you’d felt since you’d all gone toe-to-toe with the devil.
So when things escalated once again, and you found yourself hip deep in winged dicks with awful odds, you sent up the prayer of all prayers. So help me, Cas, if Gabriel dies because you bailed on me, I have at least a dozen ideas on how to deal with you, all of which involve the business end of an angel blade.
It was a little dramatic, sure, but Gabriel was not dying. Not here. Not again, and especially not because of you. Cas was lucky you didn’t stab him on sight after the smite-fest Gabriel endured. The only reason you weren’t roasting some feathers and letting the archangel bring the marshmallows was because the seraphim had pulled through for you at the last moment.
It didn’t make you any less angry at him, however.
“I came as soon as I could,” Cas informed you, a little testier than usual. A red flag popped up in the back of your mind, waving casually back and forth. Why he, of all things this evening, would be the one to trigger it was beyond you.
Unfortunately it was like waving red at an already raging bull.
“Well it wasn’t soon enough,” you hissed as you jabbed him hard in the chest. How dare he sound put out after what you and Gabriel had gone through.
He brought his hand up, fingertips brushing gently against your side. Coldness washed outward from his touch, and you shuddered as his grace pushed through your skin. It wasn’t an inherently unpleasant sensation, but after Raphael’s invasion, feeling any of them beneath your skin was disconcerting.
He must have been searching for wounds, and his eyes narrowed intently when he didn’t find any. He must have taken a moment to slip in a little mojo sedative, however. At least you assumed he did, by the way you were no longer considering the best place to stab him that wasn’t guaranteed to kill him, but still might.
“And you,” you said, rounding on the archangel and giving him a poke of his own. “You need to look up the definition of stupid.”
“Glad to see you too, babycakes,” he said, sarcasm splashing through words, though the smile he gave appeared to be genuine. You could tell by the way his dimples appeared. Usually those made whatever he was trying to achieve that much more successful, but you were having none of that right now, no matter how endearing he looked.
“We should leave this place,” Cas interjected eyes glancing around warily.
That was the best plan you’d heard all night.
The angel didn’t even wait for you to agree. He grabbed you both by the shoulders, and your stomach lurched as a familiar rush whooshed through you. You weren't sure you’d ever get used to that feeling. It was like riding the world’s longest roller coaster in the span of a second.
It took a moment for your head to catch up, but once it did, you found yourself back in your hotel room. Everything from the candles to the balloons had disappeared, leaving no evidence of the evening’s previous events. Gabriel eyed the room warily, no doubt sweeping it for signs of danger. Cas, on the other hand, just eyed him.
“Our father could not have brought you back at a better time,” the dark-haired angel said.
Then there was that little matter. Raphael had prattled on and on about the heaven’s burning, about war, taking sides, paradise. For a little while you had forgotten what year you were in, because it sounded awfully like the apocalypse was still on the agenda despite your family having put the kibosh on it.
“Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on upstairs?” You demanded, arms folding over your chest.
“We are at war,” Cas began. “When Sam took Michael to the cage with him, Raphael stepped in to take his place as Heaven’s leader. He, like his brother, is a traditionalist and believes that the story must end the way that it was written.”
You swallowed. Your cup was feeling awfully full at the moment. You weren’t sure you could handle being told all those sacrifices had been for nothing, in addition to dealing with the rest of the crazy that was flying around.
“Are you saying… it isn’t over?” Your voice had gotten quiet, nervousness edging into your words.
“If I have any say in it, it is,” he promised. “There are others like me who believe we have the right to choose our own ending and that is why we’re fighting. For your freedom and ours.”
Not just a war. Cas’ war.
No wonder he’d vanished. The man was carrying the fate of Heaven and Earth on his shoulders.
“You’re the one leading the resistance?” Gabriel demanded, and you weren’t sure what was more surprised, the angel or his eyebrows with how they nearly shot clear off his browline. “Way to go, little bro.”
You slowly lowered yourself onto the dresser, giving your mind a moment to catch up. Your brain took in the new information, kicking it around for a few moments, before throwing up its hands and reminding you this was all way above your pay grade.
Your hand slipped into your coat pocket, fingers tracing over the contour of your cell before you realized you only had one person left that you could call. Bobby was as much your family as your brothers, but it wasn’t his voice that was going to keep you from getting caught in the ever increasing riptide. Dean was the only one left who knew how to bring you back from the brink, and he was no longer an option.
“You alright, cupcake?” Gabriel asked, sitting down next to you. The subtle brush of fingers across your back brought more comfort than you wanted to admit. You looked over, surprised to find his features heavily shuttered.
A guarded archangel was never a good sign.
“Yeah, just…” You paused, hair on the back of your arms rising. Unconsciously you reached up to your neckline, tugging on your sweater. Was the room getting smaller? Because it felt like everything around you was suddenly shrinking. You forced yourself to take a breath, focusing on the way your heart responded to the slow inhalation before you released it normally.
“It’s a lot to take in,” you finished, your chest feeling heavy, as if there wasn’t much air to take in at all. Your phone became forgotten as a dissonance danced along your spine, sending signals to your muscles to stiffen. Your nerves tingled as if you were back in that tiny interrogation room, your mind trying to rectify the difference between what you felt and the spacious accommodations you saw.
“Understandably so,” Cas said sympathetically, though his compassion fell short, overlooking the tension tightening your frame as he continued to vomit Heaven’s issues all over you. “You should know, however, that things are not going well. Strategically we have the advantage, but we are outnumbered. All Raphael has to do is outlast us. We need something to give us an edge, something to turn the tide enough to break his ranks or take him out of play.”
“Like another archangel.” Gabriel said flatly.
“An archangel would be helpful,” Cas admitted, “But that is your decision to make, brother.”
While it didn’t surprise you that the the third member of Team Free Will would advocate for just that, Gabriel seemed suspicious. Considering the last few encounters he’d had with his family, you couldn’t blame him.
By the way Cas turned to you and said, “It is your help I really need,” you would have thought he’d had the sense smited out of him earlier, because what in the Virgin Mary’s pure and pious pants were you supposed to do about anything?
“And in turn,” the seraphim went on, as if making complete sense, “I would be able to help you.”
Hope sparked fierce in your chest, burning through the oxygen in your lungs, and for a moment you couldn’t breath. It no longer mattered what it was he thought you could offer or that you knew better than to make deals with otherworldly beings. This was the break you were waiting for.
“You found a way to get Sam out?” You almost hadn't dared to ask. A let down of that magnitude after everything else would be crushing, and you weren’t certain you had enough left in you to survive that.
Your friend paused a moment, his eyes narrowing on you.
“Sam has been free for months now,” he told you, features becoming a contrast of hard edges and sympathetic blue orbs. “I thought you knew.”
Free? Sam was free? How the shit could that be possible?
“That - that can’t be right.” You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Sam couldn’t be out. If there was anyone he would have called, it would have been you. He would have called somebody.
Unless... it wasn’t Sam that crawled out of there.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say except that he is, and it is him,” he continued as if reading your thoughts. Any other angel you would have suspected, but it was Cas. He must have known that’s where your mind would go. Besides, he knew better.
But if you could trust him, then that meant…
“Oh my god,” you breathed.
Somebody was in for a royal ass kicking as soon as you found him.
Your shoulders hunched, your body giving beneath the weight of all the knowledge suddenly spinning around in your head. You were thankful to be already sitting as you felt the strength leave your system. The blows just kept coming, and at this rate it wouldn’t be long before your brain was completely beaten to a stump.
Your pocket began to buzz, the furious movement causing you to jump as the vibrations danced across your leg. You pulled it out to find Bobby’s name flashing across the front of the screen.
A thought, unbidden, skittered across your consciousness: what if Cas wasn’t the only one who knew?
You immediately dismissed the notion as crazy.This was Bobby. He wouldn’t keep something like this from you. Yet, you couldn’t help but answer the call, vaguely aware of something shifting in the angel’s stare.
“Christ on a cracker,” Bobby grumbled, exasperation adding an extra bite to his words, “What the hell is your --”
“Is Sam out?” You cut him off, desperation infringing on the even tone you tried to keep. You weren’t sure what answer you needed to hear more at the moment: your brother was alive or your personal circle of trust was still in tact.
The silence that followed told you all you needed to know.
“You mean he still hasn’t told you?” Bobby asked, just as taken aback as you were. Your heart dropped deep within your stomach. You suddenly felt sick, disbelief preventing you from reacting right away and a pregnant, laden silence fell between you.
“Fuck, Bobby!” You finally found your voice, though it grew thick as the floodgates reopened. You wanted to cry. You wanted to celebrate. You wanted to scream at Bobby and your brother for joining the running for douche of the year because what the actual shit?
“Why do you think I’ve been calling so much? To schedule tea?” He retorted.
“How long?” You demanded, proud of how you managed to keep your voice from wavering despite the stinging sentiments gathering along your lashline.
“I dunno… five months?” He had the decency to sound chagrined, but it was lost within the rising tide of your anger.
Five months.
Five fucking months without a word from either of them.
“Listen, kid, this isn’t the type of thing you just drop in a voicemail…”
Oh yes it fucking was. That was exactly what you did after the first few days. That or you GPSd their ass and showed up on their doorstep, which was exactly what Dean would’ve done in this situation.
Oh God, Dean. Did he know?
No. There was no way. He would never have kept that information from you.
Then again, five minutes ago you would have said the said the same thing about Sam and Bobby.
“Dean?” You couldn’t fully say it, as if somehow not breathing life into the fear would somehow prevent it from ever being true.
“I may be an idjit, but I’m not an ass,” he grumbled.
Well that was certainly debatable.
Relief swept in, brushing aside the dread that had overtaken everything.
“He deserves to know,” you insisted, fingers digging into your eyes as you realized you would have to be the one to tell him. More than just the news was going to get broken if Bobby was the one delivering the message.
“What that kid deserves is a chance to be normal. Happy. Not to die bloody and alone, like the rest of us will.” You were taken back by the vehemence in his tone and you couldn’t remember the last time he sounded so fired up about anything. “And if it were up to me, your life wouldn’t be any different.”
Was he asking you to do what you thought he was?
“But I know you,” he continued, a deep-seated weariness entering his voice. “I know what runs in your blood won’t ever settle for normal. But you of all people know, choosing this life means sacrificing to protect the ones who are normal, and as far as I’m concerned, Dean’s one of those people now.”
Christ, you couldn’t touch this right now. You couldn’t even begin to know what you were going to do with the knowledge that Sam was alive and Dean didn’t know. Your cup was no longer overflowing, it had overflowed, tipped over, and you were all but drowning in the liquid that continued to spill out from it.
“I’ll call you back,” you managed, your inner reserves flagging. You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else before you disconnected the call. Your finger dug into the power button, pressing against it insistently, and you resisted the urge to throw the damn thing across the room.
If only you could make the rest of your problems disappear that easily.
Your head dropped forward, fingers gripping the edge of the dresser, and you did your best to contain your emotions. As it was, the only thing you seemed able to hold in at the moment was the air in your lungs.
“Breathe,” Gabriel reminded after a few moments, gently squeezing your shoulder. You brought your hands up, palming at your eyes as you felt a few tears squeeze their way loose.
“You’re upset,” Cas’ gruff voice moved closer to you.
“I’m exhausted,” you told him, weariness weighing down your words. “I had the worst sleep of my life this morning, I woke up feeling like I’d been on the receiving end of a good smite, and returned to a place I never wanted to set foot in again, twice, because someone decided to drop a crumb for me to follow without telling me it led to the middle of a fucking angel war and that my brother has been out of the cage for months now.”
“I don’t understand. How does a fragment of food lead to anything other than bugs?” Cas asked, perplexed.
You looked up, glaring at him through a thin curtain of hair. You might have laughed if you weren’t so done with everything.
“The news story story, Cas,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. Hard.
“What story?” He asked, confused.
“What do you mean what story?” The sound of your patience finally snapping came out as a snarl in your throat. “I prayed to you in Massachusetts and you put on the local news for Indiana in my hotel room so I would know there was a powersurge and check it out.”
“I was never in your hotel room,” he told you. “I heard your prayer, but I was in the middle of battle and couldn’t respond.”
You swallowed, both you and Cas’ shifting your gazes to Gabriel.
“Don’t look at me,” the archangel said, putting his hands up in front of him. “If I’d have been there, I’d have sent you in the opposite direction.”
Said the man who had been horribly desperate to get into your pants not even an hour ago.
There were shit ways to be told you were just a mistake and then, apparently, there was Gabriel’s way.
“Your inner archangel is showing,” you told him, anger varnishing your sarcasm as your stare began to burn. “You may want to look into that.”
He stiffened at the remark, eyes darting briefly to the other angel then back to you. You expected some flippant comment, maybe a smart ass retort that was also somehow endearing. His silence, however, spoke volumes.
“It must have been Raphael. He must have followed you here,” Cas interrupted, concern spilling over into his voice.
“Why the hell would Raphael be following me?” You rounded on him. You were sick of being left in the dark about things, and you had a distinct feeling there was far more of Heaven’s problems spilling onto you than anyone had let on.
Then again, you were also sick of this night and wanted nothing more than for it to just be over.
“Because, like your brothers, you were meant to fulfill a greater purpose. While they were meant to bring about war, you, I believe, are a catalyst to do the opposite,” your friend explained. By the look on his face, he was gearing up for something. Something that was likely to make your brain fall in on itself. Something you guaranteed you neither had the time nor patience for.
“Wait, what?” Gabriel broke in, as if that was the last piece of insanity he could handle.
“Cas, I - I can’t even right now,” you warned, putting up a hand for him to stop.
“What I’m about to tell you is important —”
“I mean it,” you continued, ignoring the manic light blazing within blue. Not now.
Either your friend was especially oblivious to the level of your distress, or he simply didn’t care. He grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to hear out this final piece of information.
“Y/n… you’re a shepherd.”
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Full Circle: @melodymishahiddlestan @gabe-crowley-trash @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom
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The night sky
A/N: This fits right in with the current weather and life in Denmark! This is written for the amazing @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and her Seasons of love - Heat of Summer. I got the prompt of hot, summer night, and I had so much fun writing this! I hope you’ll like it, guys. Go check this amazing writer (and fellow Dane) out, because her work is AMAZING.
MASTERLIST
Buy me a coffee
Pairings: Sam x reader
Warnings: language (ish), all the flooff
Word count: 1230 (ish)
Sam cracked his neck and exhaled harshly, his long bangs blowing up rom his sweaty forehead. It was one of the worst heatwaves you’d ever experienced, and even though the night was slowly ticking in, the heat hadn’t diminished. It was insane. Sam was sweaty like a pig on a roast, Dean was walking from the table to the freezer, and you were feeling your thighs get more and more sweaty. The chair would probably be stuck to you forever, considering the weird suction sweat seemed to have on furniture in warm weather.
“Screw this.” Dean huffed. “I’m not spending another minute in here. It’s hot as Satan’s ballsack. I’m hitting the showers.” He stood up, shedding his t-shirt and walked quickly from the library, humming a song as he went. You looked at Sam and smiled a little. He refused to cut his hair, so he had opted to put it up in a small bun, trying desperately to keep his neck cool. Stray pieces of hair kept falling in his face, and you could spot the glistening of sweat on his neck, even though he was barely wearing clothes. He was dressed in jean shorts and a tank-top, and he looked like a damn model – even sweaty. It was unfair. You felt like a puddle of melted Y/N, and he was just sweating sexily. You didn’t even think that was possible. It was unfair, mostly because you couldn’t say anything to him about it – the downside of being very much in love with your best friend.
Sam sighed and closed the book in front of him, glancing at the clock behind you. His lips curled up into a smile, and he looked at you. “Feel adventurous?” you cocked an eyebrow. “Uhm… Maybe…?” He grinned and stood up, reaching for your hand. “Come on.” You took his hand and went through the bunker, Sam calling out to Dean that you were borrowing the car.
The night was dark, but the kind of darkness, that only exists in summertime – it was late, and the night was black with stars littering it, but there was a sense of sun, like it was waiting for its time. When looking to the horizon, a pale, blueish hue was bleeding into the dark night, the stars blinking and shining down on you. Sam was driving, your hands out of the window and Sam’s hair blowing gently in the wind, that ran through the car from the open windows. You were both silent, enjoying the night and the lazy silence, that surrounded you. He turned away on a small road nestled in between tall trees, and slowed down, smiling a little.
“This is my favorite place to go.” He said quietly, and glanced at you, his hands resting on the wheel. You grinned. “I’m glad you’re sharing it, Sam.” He smiled and turned, following the quiet road.
As the car stilled, he sighed happily. “Go get the basket, Y/N.” He said, stepping out of the car and grabbing the blanket on the back-seat. You stepped out too, walking to the trunk and grabbing the basket with wine, fruit and a few bottles of water, before rejoining Sam and walking into a salty smell.
“Welcome to my paradise.” He said, gesturing out in front of him.
It was a small beach. Salty air, and the sound of small waves crashing against the shoreline and seagulls crowing surrounded you. The water was almost as dark as the sky above you, and you briefly thought about the fact that the sky was endless, but the sea was more mysterious that anything else. It was beautiful. You turned to Sam, who was removing his shoes and walking down to the beach, gesturing for you to follow him. “Come on!” You grinned, removed your shoes and ran after him, your feet cooling off as they hit the sand.
He had unfolded the blanket on the cool sand, his long legs stretched out in front of him, when you came around to him. He was staring at the sea and absentmindedly patted the blanket in the spot next to him. You smiled and sat down, letting your bare feet run through the sand.
He pulled the wine out and unscrewed the cork, handing you the bottle and a plastic glass. You took it, pouring a glass for yourself and sighed contently. “This is beautiful, Sam.” He smiled and scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you flush to his side. You both sipped your wine, looking over the surprisingly calm sea, enjoying the silence and the lazy feeling of the night.
“Hey, Y/N?” You hummed as an answer, not removing your eyes from the still sea. For some reason, it made you feel calm – it felt like the ocean was beckoning you, the moon, strung high on the sky, lulling you to sleep. “You know, you’re my best friend, right?” You turned to look at Sam with a frown. “Of course, Sam.” He smiled. “And you know, I’d do anything for you?” You nodded with a confused smile. “Sam, what are you getting at?” He looked out on the ocean, closing his eyes.
“Sometimes, I feel like you’re like the ocean. You are so welcoming, soothing and all encompassing. You’re fierce and a force to be reckoned with. It’s kind of amazing to see the shift from the loving, gentle, mellow Y/N to the fierce warrior, that could kill you, swallow you whole.” He looked at you with a small smile full of love. “I can honestly and whole-heartedly say, that if you were the ocean, I’d happily drown within you.” He looked back at the ocean, his gaze longing. “It’s like… I know this is going to sound cheesy, but whatever. What we have… It’s like summer. It’s like the meeting between ocean and sky, you know? I’m the sky, longing to touch you, longing to be near you, and you’re just there, literally within reach, but I can’t reach you. You cool, calm and sending damn ripples through the world, while I’m just up here..” He gestured to the dark sky. “Looking down at you, seeing the impact you have made and still make on people. It’s awe-inspiring.” You smiled and nestled closer to his side.
“I don’t know what you mean, Sam, but thank you.” He sighed deeply. “I mean… I wish I could… Fuck, how do you even say this?” His voice was shaking, and it rang clearly through the night. You sat up and looked at him. He gazed into your eyes. “I love you. Like the sky loves the sea. You’re beautiful. You’re mysterious, deep and so, so much more than that. You’re home, you’re safety, you’re… Love.” He looked at you, refusing to break eye-contact. You smiled gently, moving your hand to his cheek, nuzzling the slight stubble.
“Did you know, you’ve got the night sky in your eyes?” You whispered. “Stars shining, the depth of the universe, all of it. It’s hiding behind your eyes.” You caught the slight smile, he sent you in the darkness, before closing the small distance between you, and kissed him deeply – your hands in his hair, his hands on your waist. He tasted like white wine and strawberries.
When you pulled back, he held on to you. “To the moon and back, Y/N.”
You simply smiled.
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