#so jack does something sick with her powers and then dean says something like ‘you know you shouldn’t wear a skirt that short. you’re

[quietwingsinthesky]

girl!jack being casually sexually harassed by dean in between threats of violence and this never being brought up beyond a vague sad line from sam about how he should stop treating her like that, would have fit right in with the vibes of late seasons supernatural. terrible things keep happening, and the only energy they can summon up about it is apathy that perpetuates the suffering.

[shallowrambles]

What is your favorite episode or saying from Supernatual

Over time, the lines that have stuck with me are Dean's and Cas's words about trying to get better/be better.

I think Cas's was something like: "You can start being good anytime." and Dean's (to Jack) was "Every day we have to believe we can get better."

I have come to love Optimism for the showcase of Dean's growth away from the fear-clinging in particular.

To Jack, he says: "It's not about being right. You're gonna make mistakes."

And I LOVE that.

///

Sorry I get...rambley when I'm sick:

Since I got here, I notice in fandom that there's a lot of "specialist talk," where ppl identify themselves as an X-girl brand themselves as stuff like: "I'm an understander, I'm a Ph.D is <special topic> and I'm literally always right about my analyses."

And well. I think it was maybe ilarual or angelsdean or maybe even queermania that put it best: SPN is a revolving door where each character goes through periods where they enjoy the moral high ground.

(And I know I've said this a couple times, BUT if I ever go on any of my blogs professing to be "right" or "an understander", please please please shoot me. I'm either already dead or someone is impersonating me.)

The truth is, no one is "right" all the time, in the story or the analysis. All the mains say hurtful things. They all engage in defense mechanisms that hurt others. They all horribly overreach for power, and that reaching for power tends to have multiple, sometimes even competing motives:

(1) For Sam, he wants to be strong to do all this "good guy” stuff, but he also loves the power itself; his tendency to dissociate and sunder his emotions (like *Rowena) can manifest in callous pragmatism. (2) Dean wants to take out the threats, and so many of his arcs are about torturing too! Which is about the revenge power fantasy, of "being the one to dole out the suffering for one (see: Dean in hell, Demon Dean). Dean is neurotically rigid at times because he so desperately wants to keep you safe. (Mary and Dean’s convo in Exodus comes to mind.) (3) Cas wanted to be a "just" God, to put beloved humanity first, but he also really really really wants to punish, becoming authoritarian, demanding adoration, love, etc as reward for his good deeds. Those good deeds ranged from real political threats to thought crimes and run-on-the-mill hypocrisy, often lurching into overly severe punishments.

And Jack ofc, has arcs that echo and represent all three: doomed child that might need to be executed, sacrificial soldier-child, and disconnected heir to the throne/"God."

///

SPN does a pretty good job showing flawed men, and though the flaws of characters like Lisa ("doormat tendencies and people as projects") and Amelia (“currently having a great big OOC freakout/nervous breakdown"), Jo (“become a hero to fill the void of the loss of her father”) are present in small doses, it goes even harder with characters like Amara and Mary! I love love love that no one is an ideal.

So when I talk about it, know that I favor it because it represents how real relationships tend to generate and change. When an ideal exists, it's usually positioned as a fantasy or juxtaposed with a character's psychological wound/big freakout in response to a stressor. (Yes, I think even Sam from season 8 is having a Big Freakout. An "OOC" Nervous Breakdown, if you will. It happens. When Sam goes hard into hunting or gets back into hunting, he tends to overcorrect. He doesn’t wanna “choke again.”)

And Mary Mary Mary…my love. Mary's whole arc was, "I'm not just a mother," because it's trying to make the point that archetypes, even in writing, are just simplified boxes, and we have to step back sometimes and reminds ourselves of that.

///

I feel like the back-half of SPN and especially SPNwin is about loss, closure, and trying to see each other as the flawed selves that we really are. “I wanted you to see that the real Mary was better than (the ideal).”

I feel like sometimes we can veer into distinctly Chuck-coded territory when we pretend we are always right or don't change our minds about a topic OR don't entertain both the least charitable and the most charitable viewpoints.

I've come to realize that I can hold several viewpoints at once, including "Dean as neurotic-controlling villain / Sam as callous-pragmatic villain / Cas as grandiose-idealistic villain," shadowlines. It’s about the anxiety underlying worst self / best self.

Which is pretty cool.

[sortasirius]

“Unity” and the Broken Boys

BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME

This is....one of the best episodes in the show.  Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.

First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.

That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst.  Tbh Dean deserves it.

“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”

“The only way.  Our one shot.  Our Last chance.  You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”

“We don’t have to like it, alright?  But you and me, we gotta get it done.”

Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode.  She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck.  I love her.

Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad.  I love him eternally.  He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world.  Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it.  How do you support your child when their life is at stake?

“Come on man.  Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”

“It doesn’t matter how we feel!  You know what?  Stay.  Stay.  Someone has to be the grown up here.”

“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”

“He knows what he signed up for!”

“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”

“Jack’s not family.”

Y’all should have heard the noise I made.  What a fucking line.

“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you.  He’s not like Cas.  He’s just not.”

“I’m- I’m ready.”

You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes.  You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them?  It’s unthinkable.

Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.

“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh?  I woulda done the same.”

AMARA

First of all, LOVE this structure.

Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic.  Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened.  You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.

“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”

“That wasn’t you writing?”

“Ugh, not that part.  Gross.”

What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along.  They HAVE free will, just not total free will.  Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write.  Obviously, this comes into play later. 

I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance.  I also think that in particular will come into play.

“Balance.  Something we’ve never tried before.  Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world.  True balance.  The way it was always meant to be.  But you can’t.  You only care about your pleasure, your story.  Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”

“Villains get all the best lines.”

We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable.  He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything.  He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.

“You can’t hold me here forever.”

“I can hold you long enough.”

DEAN

Pain is the name of the game in this section homies.  Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s.  Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.

Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals.  Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.

Adam.  The first man.  And Seraphina.  The angel.

“My old lady.  She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”

Yeah okay.  Volume at 100 I get it lmao.

But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons.  The theme of protecting the children strikes again.

“Killing God is your plan?”

“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”

This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.

Adam’s rib.

And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?

It’s fine, that’s fine.  I’m fine with that.

“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive.  Not really.  You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free.  But now?  Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs.  And that’s, that’s because of you.  So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack.  Thank you.”

I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important:  Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said.  He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it?  He can’t stand for that.

And:

Dean has finally pushed through the barrier.  He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore.  This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.

SAM

Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.

The box, the inscription, the door.

Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.

And there it is.  The Empty.

It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place.  For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”

This has always been the game, since season 13.  This is the longest of long games.

Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.

He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.

“You hear that?  Dean, brought to the edge of doubt.  His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end.  And poor Sam, always gotta know everything.  Can’t leave well enough alone.  This is my ending, my real ending.”

The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.

Hmm...what did I say during 15x05?  Oh yeah, this.

And:

Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom.  His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.

Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas?  I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.

Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates.  He can’t lose Cas.  But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.

“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”

“We always have a choice!”

You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.

And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.

“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants!  I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck.  In a heartbeat!”

“What about me?”

“You’d trade me?”

“Chuck has to die.  He has to!  Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”

“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me.  My entire life, you’ve protected me.  From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything.  I didn’t always like it, you know?  But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on.  It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true.  So please, put the gun away.  Just put it away.  We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me.  We always do.”

Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come.  Because fuck.  After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John.  John.  On a par with Lucifer.

Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other.  Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other.  But this?  This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad.  This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time.  Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.

(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)

Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices.  And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.

“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday.  You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”?  They did what they were told.  But not you.  Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:

Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell.  Every one told him the same thing.  And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different.  Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?

And there’s our endgame people.  Laid out on the line.

But we ain’t done yet, fam.

We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:

So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18.  I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.

What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.

[wormstacheangel]

Bec and Ali Creators Week: Day 4 - baby!jack au where Dean fell into the portal with Lucifer and Cas lives

It’s been almost a month since Dean disappeared into the portal with Lucifer.

Sam has been off researching all things otherworldly while Mary does nothing but hunt. She never calls back but sends an ‘I’m okay’ text whenever she remembers.

Cas, on the other hand, has been on the run with baby Jack the whole time. He thought they could have lived in peace in the lake house, but since the portal opened, it’s been a calling card for every supernatural creature around them. Including angels and Cas couldn’t risk anybody hurting Jack.

“You can’t do this on your own!” Sam yelled at Cas through the phone. “Just tell me where you are, and I-!”

“No! Sam.” Cas sighed as he looked over at the motel bed to see Jack’s little hands grasping at air as he fidgets and laughs. “I can’t risk what happened before, happen again. Jack he-when he is upset it could be catastrophic.”

“I won’t hurt him.”

Sam promised. But he has promised this before, and the only reason Sam is alive is that Cas begged Jack not to hurt him. Jack was as powerful as anybody feared, but he is still so gentle. His powers only appearing when there was a threat nearby. Now Sam was a threat.

“I can’t be sure he won’t hurt you, Sam, and I just can’t risk you.” You are all I have.

The days were never lonely with Jack. Cas has dealt with true loneliness before to know the difference. But they weren’t any easier.

“Please, Jack. Please stop crying.” Cas would bounce Jack in his arms, unable to understand what was wrong. Jack doesn’t get sick like a regular baby. He doesn’t sleep or eat like one either, so those books were utterly useless. They only helped remind him repeatedly about keeping to a schedule, and right now, Jack should be tired.

Cas sang to him, hoping whoever banged the motel door won’t come back yelling about shutting the baby up. Jack has cried for two hours now. Not stopping. And while Cas did not sleep, he felt exhausted.

“Show me what’s wrong, Jack. Please. I want to help you.”

Dean would know what to do. He would know how to hold Jack and bounce his arms to an exact beat that made all babies feel comfortable. Dean was amazing with kids. Amazing with everybody.

“You would have loved him.” Cas bent his head over to press a kiss to Jack’s soft bald head. He took a big calming breath of baby before continuing to bounce the baby in his arms. This time Cas sang a familiar song, one may be inappropriate for Jack but comforting nonetheless. “And if you say to me tomorrow. Oh, what fun it all would be. Then what's to stop us, pretty baby. But what is and what should never be.”

“I actually didn’t understand the lyrics and had to look them up.” Cas talked as he looked ahead at the ugly wallpapered room. “Dean knows them, though. Sometimes he mumbles it, and he gets embarrassed when he messes up, but he knows it. He just gets excited.”

Cas stops talking when he realizes the crying has finally turned into easy breathing. Jack was finally asleep.

The relief didn’t last long. Cas was lying in bed, eyes shut with Jack sleeping on his chest when he felt something off with the air around them. It tasted too electrifying and heavy to feel like a storm.

They have been found again.

Cas is quick to pack up, cradling a once again crying baby to his chest. It would be faster if he had both his arms to pack up their mess, but he left some things behind as he drove off. Leaving another motel for the road again.

Driving the Impala to the next motel took a three-day drive. Jack was patient enough, blabbering alongside the music, but even they needed to stop to get some fresh air every once in a while.

In the motel, Cas once again had to watch the video on how to bathe a baby because he always assumes he will do it wrong. He made a checklist out loud, asking Jack what else they may need besides food and diapers. He promised to head straight to the store in the morning to buy him new clothes since the baby quickly outgrows every new outfit Cas could manage to get him.

As the day was winding down, Cas called Claire to check up on her. She worries about him but won’t admit it out loud, so Cas keeps the conversation focus on her. She asks about Jack but more to be polite. She is scared that the baby may end up being the thing that would kill him, but Cas saw a future where Claire was happy and safe, so all this trouble would be worth it.

Though he saw a future with Dean too, but every day, it felt like that vision was wrong. Maybe that vision was long gone now. All possibilities to it were now shattered.

Cas turned to the bed when he heard the start of cries. Jack was waking up.

“Hey.” Cas crawled into bed beside him. “Oh, don’t cry, Jack.”

He presses a kiss to his son’s head, feeling warmth run through him. “I love you so much. You know that?” Cas lifts Jack up and holds him to his chest again. Letting Jack settle down for a second before Cas continued. “I know we are dealing with a lot right now, but having you, Jack, still makes me feel happy. I just wish I could give you the life you deserve.”

Cas sighed as his hand gently pats at Jack’s back.

“I just wish I could give everyone I love the life they deserve.”

They settle in the motel for a week before they had to move on. Motel. Impala. Motel. Impala. That was their life.

“I’m so tired,” Cas whispered to himself in the mirror, splashing water on his face as he hears Jack continue to cry in the room over. Of course, Cas would start crying himself because Jack has been crying with no rhyme or reason. Not one that Cas could find.

They haven’t stopped driving for a week. They rested in the car, and it was only a short time before they were found again. Cas finally lost whoever was after them after killing three demons in the gas station, but he was nicked a few times. Grace seeping out of him for a few seconds before he healed himself.

Jack could heal him, sure, but every time he used his powers, they had a new group coming after them. So no powers for right now. While Cas was desperate to feel better, he was also desperate to stay put for a while and not drive.

“Jack, baby, please don’t cry anymore.” Cas crawled back into bed, tears forming around his eyes. “Please stop crying. I’ll do anything you want.”

Jack’s little lungs gave it everything they got in the sudden yell, and Cas hid his face in Jack’s little body as he cried alongside his baby.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Dean would have known what to do. He would have taken so much better care of you.”

Jack’s little cries stung again and again. Feeling hopeless and frustrated, Cas only kissed him. He was trying to quiet his cries while also fighting his own.

“Please, baby, don’t cry.” Cas cradled Jack to his chest and kissed his little head as Jack’s tiny fist hit him. “I never knew how much it would hurt to see a child cry. I never thought I would know this heartache.”

Cas started to sing. "You are my sunshine. My only sunshine.”

The voice filled with more gravel as he fought his own sob.

Cas fell asleep for the first time since having Jack. He dreamt of the happy vision, of Dean, of the happy family he longed for. All the things that were looking impossible today.

Cas wakes up to a flash of light.

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 

[estrel]

for @ickyv29​ ‘s prompt: Claire taking Jack out of the bunker so Cas and Dean can set up a surprise party? Chaos ensues. 

here you go !! jack looks like he’s in his teens for this one, but he did that just to hang out w claire god bles <3 also falls into transnatural,, you’ll see why (^:

It’s always spooky seeing Jack age up in front of her very eyes. One second he’s practically just a step up from a toddler, and the next, Jack is taller than Claire and wearing the exact same goofy smile on his face.

She supposes the one good thing that comes out of it is that none of them have to guess at what he’ll look like in the future when he’s older. He still looks just the same as he does when he’s three feet tall or whatever, except that maybe he seems a little calmer, and Claire feels a little more comfortable talking to him as if they’re friends rather than...half...step...siblings? 

Which is why she agrees to take care of him for the day, with the intention of showing him her favorite “grown up” spots, though she promises Dean that everything they’re doing will be kosher.

It’s not.

“Okay Jack,” Claire claps a hand on his shoulder, much sturdier than the one she’s used to poking at when they’re playing with legos on the Bunker floor. “Are you ready to be a big kid now?”

He nods fervently and she smiles, pulling a little on his shirt sleeve so that he’ll follow her into the mall.

The grown up spots she intends to take Jack to are mild, at best. She just thinks he should be able to get the full teenage experience, even if she never really did, and he isn’t really a teen. 

The first place they stop at is Claire’s, rightfully so. Jack, like everyone else she has ever known, points at the sign and nudges her. She expects the usual comment about “they named you after the store,” but instead he says, “They named the store after you,” and she nods her head in agreement.

“Sure did,” she says, “how do you feel about getting your ears pierced?”

They step inside, and Jack takes in all the rows of merchandise. “Pierced? Won’t Dad and Dee and Sam get mad?” 

Claire shrugs, watching Jack’s eyes light up when he sees the over-the-top girly accessories. “No big deal, you can always just heal the holes right up with your super powers, can’t you?” 

She calls Jack’s nephil magic “super powers” to please him, under the guise that it makes more sense to passerby if she’s talking to a four year old about super powers rather than angel mojo. 

It does the job, so he agrees, and the next thing she knows, they’re walking out of Claire’s with a bag full of flowery headwear and Jack’s two pierced ears.

Claire would be lying if she said her heart wasn’t racing thinking about the potential lecture she’d receive from Jack’s dads. But it was worth it to see Jack look at her like she hung the moon, a hand constantly raising to touch tentatively at his ears. 

“Next up,” she announces, “mani-pedis.”

“What’s that?”

Claire holds out her hand, chipped with black nail polish. “Nail painting. You’re gonna love it.”

She’s not really the type to get a manicure—in fact, Claire’s probably only had one in her life when she was like eight—but half of these (all of these) activities are more so to cater to Jack on his birthday, and the stuff he’d enjoy (and also whatever would piss off Dean the most).

And she’s right—Jack loves the little foot bath with the fancy water jets, and giggles the whole time the lady is scrubbing at his feet and nails. He enthusiastically asks for rainbow colors (a different color on each finger and toe), and Claire has to explain that he’s gotta wait patiently for them to dry or else they’ll get messed up.

“Do you like the rainbows?” Jack asks, showing them to her when they leave. She gets a feeling there’s a certain importance to the question that she’s missing, but she nods and gives him a careful fist bump. “Rainbows are sick,” she says.

“Sick,” Jack repeats, “that’s not good. Do they need medicine? What do they have?”

Claire snorts and waves him off, “No, dummy. Sick like...’cool.’”

“Ohhh,” Jack visually internalizes that thought for safekeeping, “sick.”

Claire checks her phone while they stuff their faces with mall pizza, quickly answering Kaia’s messages with a smile, assuring Jody that all is well, and sending Dean snarky comments about their surprise party taking forever to set up.

She sets her phone down to pay attention to Jack again, only to find him staring at her already, a contemplative look in his face.

“Uh...do I have food on my face or something?”

Jack shakes his head. “I had a...question.”

Oh. She leans her elbows on the table, crossing her forearms. “Okay, shoot.”

“You like girls,” he starts, and she hides an amused smirk, “and Dad and Dee like each other...but. I don’t like anybody yet because I’m not old enough and I don’t know anyone my age.”

You’re also a four year old half-angel being that’s presenting like he’s eighteen, she wants to supply, but Claire only shrugs. “You don’t gotta like anybody kiddo. Sometimes people just want friends, and that’s fine.”

He nods seriously, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay. But what about... me?”

“What about you?”

“Well I’m...I like boy things,” he says, “but I like girl things too. Does that mean I’m like Dee?”

“Bisexual?” Claire supplies, and then scrunches her face up a little, “like you said, bud, I think you’re too young to tell--”

“I know,” he chirps, and then studies his nails. “I don’t mean like that. I mean...I like those things... for me. Like, tutus and capes and man-ee-cures, and cowboy hats.”

Claire takes a second to think it over, and then it all clicks. “Oh! You mean your gender, right?”

“I think so,” he says. 

“Well all that stuff you listed has to do with gender expression. And really, anyone can dress or look however they want, regardless of pronouns or orientation. But...put it this way, would it make you feel better if people referred to you as ‘she’ and ‘her?’“

Jack shakes his head. “No...”

“Do you like ‘he’ and ‘him’?” A nod. “What about ‘they’ and ‘them’?” There’s a pause, Jack mulling it over, before he nods.

“Is it okay to have more than one?” 

“Totally okay.”

“Then yes,” they sit straighter, “I like both.”

“Cool,” Claire smiles, holding up a fist for another fist bump. Jack knocks their knuckles against hers. 

“Sick,” he agrees. 

Just then her phone starts to buzz, lighting up with a text from Cas that says ‘we’re done. you can come back now (:’ 

She looks back up at Jack with their pierced ears and rainbow nail polish.

“On second thought,” she says, standing and offering her hand, “I think they’ll love it.”

[tintentrinkerin]

Title: Pink Pulse

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: explicit

Tags: Bottom!Dean, Top!Sam, Witch OC, Magic, Demon Blood!Sam, Horny Idiots, Breeding kink, Dean has a magic pussy, slightly crack!fic

Summary: Dean wants to piss Ruby off and reclaim Sam as his. During a bender he meets Mandrake, a shady witch who offers him help.

Word Count: 4.5k

READ UNDER THE CUT OR ON AO3

When Dean Winchester regains his consciousness on this cold and foggy morning, he doesn’t really expect a surprise. He’s been drinking for a day… or maybe two, after Ruby, this damn bitch!, showed up again to lure Sam back. It’s her usual fucked up game, she does that when the angels aren’t looking. Sometimes, Dean knows it, Sam secretly calls her and when he sneaks out, Dean knows where’s going. And when he returns he stinks of blood and skank.

Dean’s head hurts like crazy. It takes several attempts for him to roll from his stomach to his back and then get a grip on the dumpster he’s lying next to and swing his body up. His feet feel jiggly and his stomach seems to be empty but he’s nauseous as hell. He hasn’t been robbed, that’s a good thing, his phone, his purse, even the keys to the Impala are still in his pockets. He checks his phone.

It’s 7.38am. Okay, great. He might’ve just passed out a few hours and if he’s super lucky, Baby is parked in close distance.

His phone shows several texts from Sam and from someone who calls themselves “Mandrake”. Doesn’t ring a bell. Not yet. Rather, Dean browses Sam’s texts which tone switches from mopey, to angry, to frightened and then there are over thirty missed calls. Holy shit, was Dean really gone for just a night? Dean tumbles out the alley and winks at the bright daylight he’s now exposed to. He might call Sam before he really freaks out. Some memories flare up in his brain about the damn fight, and that Dean insisted Sam was caught by Ruby so easily because he was underfucked and needed pussy a little too bad. He still thinks he’s right.

There is something to that word. Pussy. Dean loves saying it, Dean loves eating it, Dean loves everything revolving around it, but when he accused Sam of being a horny underfucked loser craving some, he felt bitter about it. A feeling that he had earlier, before Sam went to Stanford. Now Dean is a grown ass man with the Apocalypse on his heels, he has more pressing issues - or so it seems.

He phones Sam while stumbling through the alleys and trying to find Baby. Damn. His pants feel weird. Like he has a wedgie. In the front.

“Dean! For fuck’s sake, where are you?!”

Dean stops in his tracks and scratches his crotch.

“Chill out, Sammy. I’ll find out where I am, I just need to find the damn car.”

“I was a second away from letting Castiel locate you.”

“Forget the damn angel, I’m on my way.”

Sam scoffs into the phone.

“You’re such an idiot. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“No, no, I don’t. I thought you’re sucking pussy all night.”

Sam hangs up without another word.

There it is again, this fucking thought. That Sam could be out fucking Ruby while he’s been… what? What exactly happened between nightfall and now? There was a fight, not physical, but Dean has been so fucking close to slap the bitch across the face. Sam stopped him.

Dean finds the pub where he supposedly was drinking his anger away. It’s closed. The “Full Moon”. And it’s been a full moon last night. How damn right poetic. His phone rings.

“Yo, Sammy - wanna apologize and admit you’ve been eatin’ her all night?”

A female voice on the phone laughs. Dean frowns.

“Who’s this?”

“Mandrake. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember jack. Where’d you get my number?”

Dean knows, he should hang up. This is maybe a very bad idea. Give too much away. This woman sounds familiar but a lot of women do, he’s not exactly in celibacy since he’s back from Hell.

“I got it from you, idiot. And I got something else.”

Dean follows the main road for as long as he somehow feels he’s been here before. He surely didn’t drive far from the motel but far enough that Sam wouldn’t find him. This is so not usual for Dean. Being a mopey idiot? Yes. Getting drunk? Also very much yes. It itches in Dean’s pants and when he makes sure no one’s looking he sticks his hands in his boxers.

Holy shit. What the fuck.

Sam can’t focus. He sits at the motel room’s table, trying to do research, but he just can’t block out all of the things that distract him. The flickering TV. The humming of the air conditioning system. His fingernails clicking on his laptop’s keyboard. The thoughts. All of his thoughts combined as sinister and hilarious and frightening they are at the same time. Dean’s been gone for two damn nights. Okay, now he’s back, sitting on the sofa, manspreading. Only in his now deflated looking underwear. Watching something on TV that Sam can’t process. He sees the images, but his mind is racing like crazy around all the other things. The goosebumps on his own arms, the sound of his own breath. He feels the harsh and fast pumping of his heart, circulating his blood. He can feel his pupils dilate. And his legs won’t hold still. He has to move somehow.

Ruby’s blood wasn’t enough last time. The fuck wasn’t enough. Everything aches inside Sam. Anger is like a fist in his stomach but he isn’t quite sure if the anger is the fuel of everything.

He knows Dean hates it when he bounces like this, his legs are shaking and damn, something is pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Of course it’s not something. Thing is, he wants to ignore it.

Dean seems to be calm right now, but he’s sitting right under the air conditioning, the blow is ruffling his hair while he stares on the screen, his arms crossed, legs spread out. He scratches himself. There. Sam follows the movement and gulps.

And then, shit, Sam, stop fucking looking at your brother’s crotch! - but he can’t stop! - Dean isn’t scratching anymore. Two of his fingers press right between his thighs, the fabric rustles, and it turns wet. The fucking boxers get wet. Dean doesn’t even seem to notice, but he should. It’s his body! It’s his-

Sam can’t even think it without feeling a rush of hot blood and sharp imaginary knives stabbing his lower stomach. Pulse spikes up. Pupils dilated. Mouth waters. Sam tries to hide a grunt but he can’t.

“Sammy, you good?”, Dean asks, still rubbing his-

Sam looks at him. He must look like a drug addict in withdrawal. Well, maybe he is. He’s maybe addicted to- it’s all Ruby’s fault. She came when Dean died and she lured him in, now he can’t stop thinking of her warm salty blood in his mouth. Or his teeth on her skin. His tongue-

“Fuck.”

Dean looks irritated.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I don’t even remember most of the fight. It’s only twelve or thirteen days from now and I’m-- I’m normal again.”

Sam inhales. Dean’s scent was building over the last couple of hours and now it’s so thick, musky and intoxicating that it’s hard to ignore it.

“Shut up and take a shower.”

Dean now closes his legs and presses his hands on his thighs. He looks at Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

“There’s nicer ways to tell me I still stink of garbage.”

If it was only fucking garbage! Sam is so close to yell it, to jump up, throw the table over or punch a wall.

“You don’t stink.”

“Then what?”

Dean gets up and walks towards the table. His chest is heaving, Sam notices. Breathing heavy. Such a broad chest, covered in goosebumps. Sam feels incredibly sick all of a sudden.

“I can smell…”, Sam needs to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. The closer Dean comes the worse it gets.

“Now tell me already, if I don’t stink anymore what’s the problem?”

“Dean, I could smell a chipmunk’s fart from miles away, that is a problem.”

Sam needs to breathe. He jumps up and throws himself over to the window and opens it. He should’ve done that way earlier, he realizes. But Dean is behind him now.

“Unless we have chipmunks with flatulences in here, I still don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Dean touches Sam’s shoulder. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Oh holy shit, the whole hormonal time bomb erupts inside Sam’s body. When he turns around, he’s sure he looks super frightening to Dean, but he can’t stop, won’t stop and pulls Dean close. Dean freezes. A shaky little laugh.

“Sammy… what…”

“I can smell your pussy”, Sam growls, his lips on Dean’s skin.

Dean doesn’t smell like a woman at all, everything about him is testosterone, if there wasn’t this tiny anomaly about him.

That he got himself hexed by a shady witch.

There’s no struggle against Sam’s force when he pushes Dean against the table and then -- as if he waited for it -- Dean hops on that table, opens his legs for Sam.

“What are you doing?”, he still asks, his green eyes big and glassy, lips a cute pout.

Sam has no answer to that than before: “Your smell drives me mad. I need…”

What does Sam need? His brother? His magical pussy? Or wouldn't it be easier to run away to mountains nearby and scream from the bottom of his lungs until he passed out?

Decisions, decisions.

Dean's face has the colour of fresh pink guava juice, his freckles pop, his eyes pop. His lips part for a second. His tongue flicks. No Sam knows exactly what he needs.

“Do you need it? My pussy?” Dean whispers. He slowly pulls his boxer briefs down to his ass but then Sam needs to help, Dean clings on him, Sam pulls. Dean lays across the - thank GOD, long table and is spread out like a delicious meal, while Sam frees Dean from the fabric. It's more ripping then pulling and Sam groans, shit, he's ripped them apart. But then, when Dean opens his legs even more, lying here on his back like a beetle, helpless and weirdly pliant, the odor of Dean's pussy makes Sam cuss and tumble.

“Fuck, Dean…”

“Huh? Not good?”

Sam is out of words, super-ego just logged out with an ‘I have no power here’ and damn right it doesn't!

Dean's pussy is perfect. Another grunt. Holy shit. Instead of an answer for Dean, Sam kneels between Dean's wonderfully wide spread legs. His brother is the definition of a bottom here. Just opening his legs for anyone. Even Sam. The smell is intense and rich, Sam knows it from the other women he's been with... but Dean has one perfect twist. He smells like Sam's brother, too. Musky and citric. And that makes Sam go lizard brain.

“I need to taste you.”

Dean now even slides closer, his legs lie on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerks up and leans over the table, over Dean's naked body. This pussy is just the material of Sam's wet dreams. His nose rubs Dean's skin under his belly button and Dean moans.

“Do it, Sammy. Fucking do it or I'll push your face in my pussy myself.”

Well. Not the worst threat he's ever received. Sam's hand trails between Dean's legs and when he feels the wetness, a fucking intense wetness that is spread all over. Even the thighs are a little glossy from Dean's fluids.

Sam needs to see. Going down, he pushes Dean's legs apart even wider and dives in between these legs. Pink and juicy, dripping wet. The smells almost knocks him out, makes his mouth water and a generous drop of drool falls from his lips. He cannot fucking take that anymore. And Sam pushes Dean closer to him, winds his arms under Dean's now trembling legs and -

Dean cries out, muscles flex, he kicks out, then sinks down again. Just one damn lick.

Sam is in such rage that he can't be fully a gentleman here and do everything slowly, patiently. He's hungry and his primal urge has taken over. Greedy, he licks up and down Dean's labia, tongue working and opening his brother's pussy up and Dean sounds so fucking hot. No girl or guy ever made him sound so needy and so desperate for a fuck. He tastes just as good as Sam imagines when he sucks the thick and sweet wetness from Dean's pussy, sucks on the folds while his fingers run up and down Dean's thighs and Sam needs one free hand now, his thumb rubbing just above the hood of the clit, other finger just teasing his entrance. Not really pushing it in, just a little rubbing while Sam sucks and licks and circles Dean's clit with his tongue.

Dean feels like he is losing his mind. Not only that Sam really is between his legs and gives him mind blowing oral sex, fuck, Dean loves it. He thought Sam was angry but the way he devoured Dean's pussy, anger was definitely gone. He can't stop moaning and winding and his hands in Sam's hair. When he looks down and sees his brother's face up and down, he looks very focused on what he's doing. And in Dean feelings build up, it's a heat and a tumbling, never felt like this.

In a moment of taking a deep breath and Sam looks up, Dean's juices run down his chin and in the collar of his shirt. “Dean, you taste so good…” he says and bites in Dean's thigh. Doesn't hurt. “Better than anything.”

Dean shudders. He needs more.

“Sammy, keep going.”

Sam smirks, his thumb circling Dean’s now swollen and hot clit, his whole pussy is slick with his wetness. No woman Sam ever had sex got that wet.

His thumb is gentle, a perfect rhythm of circling. Stopping. Circling. Stopping. Little pressure. Dean’s body feels on fire.

“Is that what the girls tell you when you go down on them?” Sam asks, his voice rustling leaves.

Dean can’t help but utter a short, almost hysterical laugh.

“I never really listened.”

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk, Sam clicks his tongue.

“You should’ve. Not only that. Listen to what they say but what-”

Sam finger slides in Dean’s wet pussy with one fast but well adjusted movement. Dean winds and arches his back. Tries to get Sam’s finger away and yet…

“-when they want to escape you, you’re doing it right.”

“Sam, for fuck’s sake! I had enough sex with enough people to know the god damn basics!”

But feeling it himself gives him a whole new sense for it. Sam’s finger moves, wet sounds, in and out and it takes not even a blink and Dean begs for more. Two fingers, holy shit, Sam’s fingers are thick and long and when he starts fucking Dean’s pussy with them while sucking on his clit, the impulse to turn on his stomach and either crawl away or present his naked ass to invite Sam to fuck him -- Dean wants both!

Sam’s ‘come hither’ movements tighten the knot in Dean’s stomach. That’s not what an orgasm feels like for him when he’s about to blow. This is so much deeper, feel tight and hot right up to his lower belly. The noises Sam makes as he sucks Dean’s clit are downright vulgar. And the faster Dean’s breath goes, the more he tries to wind away, Sam’s hand around his upper thigh is a bench vice - he won’t let Dean go. Not unless…

Dean can feel it. He whines “fuck, Sammy, ‘m gonna cum…” and this would be the same moment he came. If Sam just sucked his dick. But this is… slower. And Sam goes absolutely frantic, like a boxer he just goes for Dean’s weak spots and he has definitely found them now and he rubs Dean’s insides, sucks his clit, damn how big can such a tiny thing swell? And Dean fucks himself on these fingers, his rhythm clashes against Sam’s, the bigger the friction, the better. His fingers clench in Sam’s hair and then finally, Dean comes, he feels like exploding, black dots in his sight and he has to close his eyes. His heartbeat goes straight up to his throat, only faint moans, a ‘holy fu…’ but he can’t even finish a fucking curse. Sam won’t stop fucking him, but slower now, more gentle. His tongue presses against Dean’s clit. Dean feels Sam’s breath on his wet skin. Everything tingles still, Dean’s hornystupidmanbrain is on standby, extremities just twitch helplessly.

When Dean opens his eyes he only sees the dirty brown ceiling and the dim light.

“I need a smoke”, Dean blurts out. Oh, the sweet refusal to acknowledge what just happened.

“Fuck, you clenched so hard I thought you would break my fingers.”

Sam sounds so deep, so gravely. Does Ruby hear that a lot?

Dean laughs, trying not to choke on his jealousy. Sam just ate him out. His brother. Just. Ate. Him. Out! Dean feels like he took drugs, heavy, light, euphoric. Not tired. This doesn’t seem to end in a hangover.

“Sam. I really, really wanted that”, another stupid thing to stay. But Dean’s stupid, especially when things are about Sam.

Sam scoffs. “I guessed, otherwise you would’ve punched me to a pulp.”

“Damn right…”

Dean covers his face with his arm, the dim light is too much right now. His breath hasn’t even calmed down yet and somehow, he has to admit, he’s not satisfied. The climax gave him a solid blank for a couple seconds but even now he’s throbbing and wet, Sam’s spit hasn’t made him any drier.

Dean is still a powerhouse of sex, Sam can’t deny it. Resting between his legs doesn’t help but he doesn’t dare to get up and reveal that he is rock-hard and ready. Eating his brother out has been a wild ride already, something he maybe dreamed of as a teenager (but even then - who would imagine Dean as a girl?), of sucking him off like he saw when Dean brought a girl or a dude home. Sam needs to get himself up, slowly, Dean is lying there, arm covering his eyes, but a smile on his face. He grins like an idiot. It’s cute.

Silence.

Awkward.

Sam doesn’t know what to say now, he’s lost control, because his brother grew a pussy. How could you ever explain that? Gladly he doesn’t have to.

Dean gets up, his eyes look teary, but not in the sad I’m-about-to-cry way. He rather pulls Sam close and whispers, something so idiotic, something so innocent, and yet something that makes Sam’s boner grow even more.

“You didn’t even kiss me first.”

“Sorry”, Sam replies, he’s just as stupid.

Dean makes it easy for Sam, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. This is just another short circuit for him and before Sam realizes what he’s doing, his vision turns red. His instincts and his lust are wired to the taste and smell of blood - and Ruby. This is not Ruby. Gladly, this is not Ruby. It’s Dean. The one he thought of when it first happened, the one he was mourning so deeply. Now he gets what he wants from the person he wants. Bingo.

His brother is heavy, but Sam’s strength is to be reckoned with these days. It’s easy to lift him up - Dean’s legs wind around his hips, his ass feels so great. Firm. Dean moans in his mouth when Sam throws him on one of the motel beds and follows, laying his full weight on his brother.

“Sammy…”

Damn, Dean’s fumbling on his zipper.

“You’re big.”

Scoff.

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Dean looks really intrigued. Sam lets it happen. Dean slides a hand in his boxer briefs and squeezes his raging dick.

“Fuck. Dean.”

These big pleading eyes. Sometimes Dean looks at him like this. And he looks younger than Sam now. Needy. Small. Vulnerable. Sam can never say no when Dean looks like this. He kicks out of his jeans and Dean is so damn impatient. Fabric tears on the seams. Sam doesn’t care.

The way Dean strokes him, the close they are it would be easy, way too easy just to slide inside Dean. Feel his wetness, how tight. How hot. And greedy. Swallowing Sam’s cock like he did with his fingers. Dean stops him. Sam’s heart sinks. It hurts.

“Take everything off”, Dean just says, “I don’t want to feel like quick fuck-”

Sam just has to laugh.

“Never”, he vows and then pulls the shirt over his head and throws it over his shoulder.

The way he towers over Dean, ready to mount, he feels like a steam breathing monster. He really shouldn’t do that. He’s spiralling down to something he never wanted to be. But he can be with Dean this way. Just this once…?

More than once…?

Dean’s legs around his hips trap him now, he can feel the slick wet folds on his cock already and all he can do now is just thrust in. Around his fingers Dean already felt like heaven and hell on earth, but this. Sam hisses, he feels like growing fangs, he digs his teeth in Dean’s neck, he tastes salt and sweat, Dean whimpers but doesn’t complain.

“God… so deep…”, he says. Like he can’t believe it.

“Hurts?”

Dean makes a sound that says ‘nuh-uh’ and that’s enough for Sam. He even pulls Sam closer, his legs force his cock deeper inside this fucking wet and inviting pussy.

This is so much better than Ruby. He needs to fucking forget her. The deeper he sinks, the harder he thrusts and sweat runs down in his eyes and makes them sting, he forgets about what all of this could mean for them. He just wants to fuck Dean silly. And Dean clings on him like he’s drowning in this feeling, no matter how harsh Sam is. His hips are snapping, damn, it must hurt, right? He eventually slows down to kiss Dean sloppily and open mouthed, their moans intertwining and building a cacophony of sounds, loud and rough, soft at the same time. Sam manages to slow down a little and Dean relaxes.

“I want you to fuck me from behind”, Dean mumbles on Sam’s lips, trying to hide the fact he’s blushing deep.

Sam huffs.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” Babe.

He almost called Dean babe. Sam winds out, slides out, winces. It feels so good, Dean’s so wet, Dean’s just perfect.

On all fours, arms spread out like a silly yoga pose, back stretched… Sam definitely dreamt of this more than once. This time he pushes in slowly, and Dean arches his back. His breath staggers, yelps. But yet again, after a second of adjusting, Dean starts moving. Fucking himself on Sam’s cock and saying such nasty, irritating, hot things. He mewls and begs for more and then.

“God, Sammy, cum inside me!”

Sam stops. Dean repeats. “Cum inside me!”

There’s no way Sam can deny him, he’s close since Dean started working him like he did it a thousand times already. Sam grips those hips tight, leaves white marks, then pink long traces of his fingernails as he snaps in Dean’s pussy, shit, these sounds. Juicy and full, and Dean’s longing. This is the best fuck. This is it. This is what will blow Sam’s mind for hours, the whole night. Days.

“You want me to breed you, big bro?”, he hears himself say, the animalistic side, awake, fully in rage makes him say it, he can’t stop. “You want me to pump my load in ya?”

Dean nods frantically, his mewling and crying is so pretty. He’s still bouncing on Sam’s cock, his wonderful, round and firm ass, perfect for slapping. And Sam does. Dean whimpers, “please, more, Sammy, more!”

Sam claws at Dean’s hair, pulls it, overstretching his neck. He’s so out of control he might fuck Dean all bruised and sore.

“Touch your clit, c’mon babe, rub it. Cum on my cock and you’ll get it. I’ll knock you up”, whoa.

Dean does it, his hand traces down his body and he starts rubbing his swollen, red, overstimulated clit, squeezes it between his fingers and starts rubbing, circling.. hard to find the thing that gets you going, right? But soon, Dean writhes even more, his voice turns higher. Legs start shaking. “I think I’m gonna-”

He cums on Sam’s cock, clenching and moaning, getting so wet it drenches Sam’s crotch and runs down both their legs. The feeling is amazing, Sam’s checked out once again, babbling “Good boy, good boy” and then shoots a generous load of cum, he tumbles and hips snap and snap, until he’s finished.

They collapse, sweaty and gasping for air, Dean makes incoherent post orgasm noises.

Another period of silence that is only interrupted by the usual motel room sounds that creep back in Sam’s ears. He wants to pull out but Dean claws on his arm, his legs trapping Sam’s.

“No, no. Not yet. Please not yet.”

Sam sinks back and gives Dean what he needs, the closeness. Even though after some time fluids will dry and get cold. It will get sticky and that’s when Sam will have the urge to shower.

Not with Dean. They stay like this for minutes before Dean turns around, Sam lets him. They lay beside each other and the whole scene is hilariously and bizarrely romantic. They keep kissing and Dean’s like the devourer of Sam’s kisses and affections.

Dean rubs his nose on Sam’s, humming. He seems so proud of himself, so satisfied, but then his eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.”

He gets up on one elbow and looks at the mess they made. Cum is leaking out of him and he wipes it from his thigh. Tastes it.

“Dean, really?”

“Hey. It’s only natural. Have you never been curious?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah I was, but I never thought you would be.”

“You know this breeding kink thing. I did that before but I- I mean. Hot fantasy, works with anal but… Do I need an emergency pill now?”

Dean’s face is deadpan serious. Sam clears his throat to hide that he actually wants to laugh. How could he know?

“Just to be sure, I would say a magical pussy isn’t spunk proof. We could get to a pharmacy ...”

Dean falls silent and leans into Sam. There’s so many things unsaid and he’s not in the mood to unpack it. Sam is reluctant either. It’s enough for him to hold Dean close, pet his hair and keep kissing him over and over until they feel in the mood again. That Dean’s been hexed is a secondary matter. They will enjoy it as long it lasts.

Sam goes down on Dean, even when he’s still leaking cum, he just swallows it, he doesn’t mind. And when they get tangled into each other, both thinking ‘well, if he needs an emergency pill we’ll make it worth it’.

Consequences? Which consequences?

Apocalypse might come, they might enjoy every fucked up delightful thing along the way.

[occult-castiel]

The Same Page

This is my @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @eclypseaf!!! The request was open, but bonus points for Miracle being present. So I wrote some post empty rescue fic!

This one honestly gave me a really hard time and I have no idea why. I hope you like it and have has an awesome christmas!

[Ao3 Link]

The portal spits them out in the dungeon.

Dean stumbles out first, a half step ahead of Cas. Human, malleable, and very much alive with one of the little dude's arms draped over Dean's shoulder.

Cas stumbles forward. Dean shoots an arm out in front of him, places a hand firmly against his chest. He maneuvers his other arms under his trenchcoat, grips his side firm.

His skins almost cool to the touch — much too cold to be safe. Not for a human, especially a brand new one.

And what if he's sick? Or gets sick and can't get better? Without his grace, there's a whole new set of worries. A bad flu that gets worse until he's gone, a hunt going wrong, fucking cancer. Heart disease kills pretty much everyone, doesn't it?

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the gentle thud of Cas' heart against his palm.

The last eight months haven't been easy. Not between the alcohol Sam eventually cut him off from, and the hunts getting sparse, and Jack being terrifying and gone until he wasn't.

Cas lulls his head to the side. His inky heart sticks to his forehead, and his blueberry-sweet eyes are unfocused but still manage to catch Dean's.

It's achingly familiar, and he smiles easy. "Hey there, sunshine."

Cas pinches his brows together as his head swims to stay upright. He slurs through some half-baked, nonsense question about coral reef bleaching, and Dean's so relieved he laughs.

Cas smiles at the sound, dazed and feather-light, but the joy is unmistakable.

It's the best thing Dean's ever seen. Fuck, he missed him. Missed him so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Cas winces — what little help he was giving Dean in holding him up falls. He makes up the difference quick. Weak fingers curl around Dean's wrist.

"Sorry —"

"S'okay. Gonna —" he swallows hard. Tries to shove away the distinct pin-prick in his tear ducts that always means he needs to man the hell up. "Gonna get you to a bed, okay?"

Cas grunts, a pitiful noise that's mostly air and entirely feeble. "Tired."

"Rest then. It ain't far. I gotcha, buddy."

When he nods, his hair brushes Dean's neck.

It's not well thought out. The lack of work and overload of carbs haven't done Dean's muscles any favors. His joints creak and protest every step, but his room isn't far, and he'd be damned before he let's Cas feel like he has to do anything alone this time.

Miracle hops off the bed the moment the door opens.

Dean lays Cas on top of the bunched up blanket. Once he's down, Dean slowly works the trencoast and suit jacket off, his hands careful as they trail across the thin cotton of his shirt.

Cas shivers, and Dean wrestles to tug the blanket out from under him, Miracle nuzzling the side of his leg the whole time.

She's probably hungry. Or just wants attention. He hasn't exactly been available the last couple weeks, too busy with his nose in piles of research. But it all payed off.

Cas grimaces in his sleep, and it twists the cords in Dean's chest. He reaches his hand out and ghosts his fingers across the sweat-stained hair stuck to his skin, gently pushing it to the side.

He'd said it once, not more than a month ago, in the darkness of his room, Miracle tucked as close as he could get her.

He said he loved me, and I — I didn't say it back. But I do. God I do.

Dean trails his hand from his forehead to the flushed pillow of his cheeks. The other knuckles roughly at his eyes and comes back wet.

He has no god damn idea what he wouldve done without Miracle to talk to. Cause he could never get it out to Sam. Not those last moments. Not what Cas really means to him. Always too close to an edge of something larger than any apocalypse they've ever dealt with.

He traces down low enough to brush across Cas' wrist, the pained look still on his face.

Dean swallows, his heart hammers hard in his throat. Timid even though the guy is unconscious, Dean grabs his hand.

His mind blanks. Turns to complete static — a jumble of half-formed thoughts about every reason he ever told himself not to.

He's an angel. The worlds ending. Always ending. He doesn't feel that way. Can't, the equipment for it's not there. It's why he leaves, isn't it? And what the fuck could ever hope to start when it's all always falling apart? When they could fall apart.

Everyone leaves.

A flash of cold prickles down his back, and he tries to takes a deep breath. It goes down ragged. There was something he read once, about picking out a sense.

Cas' breath, slow and steady. The clink of Mircale's claws on the floor. A muted buzz from the florescent lights in the hall.

He breaths again, a little easier. His fingers curls into Cas' palm, and his finger twitch against Dean in response. The dent in his brows relax, his jaw goes slack.

"S'okay Cas." He squeezes. "Just... be okay."

When his phone rings, dumped and forgotten on the other side of the room, he isn't quite sure how to let go. Like the ligaments in his hand have cemented in place, forgotten the muscle memory to make the movements happen.

When the second call comes through, Cas mumbles something. Dean's shoulder slack, and he pulls his hands back, clammy and with a slight tremor.

It's Sam. There's a small tug of guilt — he should've called him the moment he put Cas down. He knows he would've been worried sick if Sam was the one that had to go.

Sam's relieved too, promises to buy stuff for dinner on his way back from where Dean went in the Empty about fifty miles out. And he must hear something in his voice, because he stresses to go watch a movie or something and let Cas sleep it off.

Of course he's right. They knew Cas would be out cold. But leaving the room is still hard, and he lingers in the doorway until he gets a good look at Miracle's mess of tangled fur.

He hasn't brushed her hair, since that's practically what the fur is, in weeks.

"C'mon girl."

He grabs the brush from the bedside table, casts on last look at Cas, and takes Miracle to the TV room.

She hops on the couch next to him, tail thumping with excitement.

"You wanna get pretty to meet Cas later?"

She nuzzles his hand, sticks her nose against the brush, and a little bit of the stress from today lightens up.

He flips on some netflix show about baking food, and talks to Miracle as he starts in on her snout.

It's ritualistic to touch on whatevers going on with her, at this point.

As her fur smooths, he tells her about the Empty. Its piss-poor lighting, the mind boggling way directions work, how it has this awful burnt-licorice and gasoline stench clung to the nothingness of its everything.

It kinda makes his head hurt.

Almost two full episodes in, he has all her fur neat and tidy, and his little monologue has circled back to Cas. She'd know a lot about him if she could talk.

"It's hard to believe he's really back. And — and maybe it'll be good. We could, I dunno, get you a yard?" He nods, smiles. "Yeah, I bet your spoiled ass would like that. The bunker ain't a place for pets."

Miracle leaps from the couch, and someone clears their throat from the door.

Cas stands in the doorway, hunched in on himself. Dark strands of hair twist up in random directions, and the casual clothes Dean left him fit snugly.

He looks... comfortable. Like he slipped into humanity ages ago, not this afternoon.

"Cas."

He tilts his lips up, tight and sheepish. "I see you have a dog now."

"Yeah. Miracle. She uh — she helped me." He motions vaguely to his head. "Might not be batting a hundred up here if not for her."

Cas glances down at her, and the tense smile softens. "I'm very grateful then."

Almost reverent, he scratches the side of her ear.

Dean shakes his head. Blinks. Two things he never thought he'd see side by side mixed with the insanity of the day make none of this seem real.

Deep breath.

"She can — she can be there for you too," Dean says. "If you need it. Dogs are great listeners. Even the Madonna types like this one."

Cas gives a contemplative hum. "They are both blonde."

He puffs a breath of air. It's easy to forget Cas actually knows what he's talking about now, sometimes. Even if he does still miss the point by a mile.

"It was your turn."

Cas raises an eyebrow.

"To, uh, pick a movie." He motions to the seat next to him. "If you want."

Cas runs his bottom lip between his teeth and doesn't look at Dean. Doesn't say anything either. Just nods, walks over, and sinks into the couch.

It's a respectable distance. Close enough Dean would be able to sense him, far enough away they won't touch.

Miracle curls up on the other side of Cas, head flopped on his lap, right next to his balled up hands.

"Is it over?" His voice is small.

Dean doesn't have to ask. "Chuck isn't aproblem anymore." Cas sighs, slinks down bonelessly into the cushions. "We figured it out, took his powers. Jack's fixing up Heaven with it. Says he's gunna do that, find a way to put Amara back together, and then come home."

"Good. I don't think I'm up to fighting standards." He rolls his head to the side. They're close enough Dean can make out each muscle in his neck when he swallows. "You didn't have to save me, Dean. I'd — made peace with that fate."

It's bullshit. It's bullshit and Cas has to know it. He almost tells him a much, but if he can't have that talk now, then he never will.

He licks his lips. It doesn't help the dryness.

"Did you mean it?"

It's a dumb question, but one he needs answered.

Cas doesn't miss a beat. "That and more." The serenity in his words is endearing as it is cutting when he adds, "But we don't have to address it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

It's Dean's turn to melt with relief. "Good — that's good."

Cas winces. "I understand if you'd like some space —"

He starts to stand up, and panic seizes Dean's chest like a vice grip. He grabs his wrist and Cas freezes.

"No! God no. Cas, it — it wasn't supposed to happen like that."

He looks confused, before some amount of understanding smoothes out some of the worried lines in his face. His eyes flick down to Dean's mouth for an instant. "How was it supposed to happen, then?"

"I thought, maybe on a hunt? Or — I don't know. Just... " some place I could say it back.

Its not good enough, saying it without saying it. Cas gave a speech. He saved Dean's life, saved the god damn world. All without knowing.

He shakes his head. Starts again. He had enough practice between thoughts he couldn't shove away and late night pet-therapy. "I thought you knew. Hell, I've been scared everyone knows. And if they did, you did too, right?"

"Subtly isn't always my strongest suit."

He laughs, and it's almost on the wrong side of sane. "Don't I know it."

He can do direct.

Slow enough that Cas has time to pull back, he runs his hand up his arm, cradles it against the back of Cas' neck. He leans across the small distance and kisses him.

It's clumsy and unsure, and Cas places a skittish hand on Dean's side like he's not sure what he's allowed to have even now, but their lips mesh together in a way that feels better than anything he can remember.

When they part, he's not sure either one of them are breathing. And he can't look at Cas, not when he says it. Not yet. So he presses their foreheads together, keeps his eyes fully lidded.

"I don't know how you could think you aren't worth saving. You — you're it for me."

"Dean —"

He shakes his head, and the tips of their noses brush. "I love you more than I know what to do with. You know that right?"

Bewildered, Cas says, "I didn't."

"Yean, well. Now you do."

He scoots back in place, flushed firm against the cushion. Their hands tangle together, and their knees are touching, and it's too much and not enough. But mostly not enough. Dean dares a glance over. Cas is staring at their hands, a pleased smile on his face.

And they're on the same page.

"I think you said something about a yard when I walked in?"

Instead of answering he says, "We should retire. I'm too old for this shit."

"Entirely?"

Dean shrugs. "A hunt here and there wouldn't hurt I guess."

"We'll talk about it later." He reaches over him, grabs the remote. "I think you said it was my turn?"

Dean grins, full and toothy. "Yeah, just no more romcoms, dude. I can only take so many."

Cas nods, curt and serious. "Of course."

He does anyway, and it's the best shitty movie Dean's ever seen.

[scarecrowmax]

Pt 29 of my Emma Lives AU based on Episode 14x10 Nihilism  Also on AO3

“They left you two to keep an eye on me, gotta say it’s a little insulting. I mean, what are you? You’re nothing. An Amazon who never fulfilled her mission and a baby Nephil with almost no powers. Even Castiel would be better.” Michael spoke so evenly and with a slight raise of his brow to make sure they knew he saw them as no more than dirt on his shoes. He could see their fear for Dean and their nerves over the task of watching an archangel and was trying to trip them up.

Jack broke first, “That’s not what you said before.”

“Ah. Yes, well a moment of familial weakness. It won’t happen again.” 

His calm response infuriated Emma. “You’re not their family,” she spat, “Sam, Cas, Dad, and I are their family. You’re just a freaking parasite wearing our dad and we’re gonna get rid of you.”

Jack looked over to Emma, they knew she loved them and saw them as family but they hadn’t realized Dean would think of them as his kid too. Dean hadn’t exactly said anything like that to them, just let Emma call him her brother. His heart swelled with the love they had for their family and became even more determined that they would fix this. That they could win and beat Michael.

“Sam and Dean, they’re gonna beat you. We are gonna beat you.”

Michael scoffed, “Oh, please. Sam’s in so far over his head, he’s drowning. I have access to Dean’s memories. I know what happens to Sam when archangels possess someone. He falls apart, Lucifer did such a number on him. I’d thank him for that  if he were still around. And besides, I’ve got Dean under control. He’s penned up like a zoo animal in here. Only he doesn’t get the luxury of looking out.”

“No, Dean’s strong,” Jack wouldn’t accept, no couldn’t accept, that Dean would let Michael take over. There was no way he wasn’t fighting.

Emma tightened her grip on her blade, she felt sick. She had to believe her dad would be okay. That he’d come back. He always had. And he promised he’d never hurt her or scare her again after he was cured of being a demon, she knew it wasn’t his fault, that this was Michael but he was wearing her dad’s face. It took everything she had not to claw his goddamn face off. He didn’t deserve to wear her father’s face.

“He’s a gnat. He’s nothing, and I’m a god. Who would you bet on?”

“You don’t know anything about Dean. You just don’t. He’s a good man, a strong one.” Jack was fighting to keep composure, they hadn’t dealt with anything like this before. They’d never dealt with one of their loved ones possessed and not acting like themselves.

Michael looked at Jack with something akin to pity in his eyes, “I’m in his head... literally. I know everything he does. Like,” he paused for a second as if to recall a memory, “I know how sad he was when you died...on the outside that is. On the inside, well that’s a different story. He wasn’t happy per say, he simply… didn’t care. You’re not Sam, or Cas, or even little Emma. You’re simply a burden forced on him. Some weak, helpless, pathetic little thing. Have you really convinced yourself that they care about you, that they love you? Emma might, but that’s just because you’re a plaything to her...”

“That’s not true, Jack that’s not the truth, don’t listen to him,” anger and hurt flashed through Emma’s voice as she interrupted Michael, she had to make sure Jack knew that Michael was spouting lies. They loved them, they were family and they loved them.

The shouting brought Cas back to the room. “Jack, why don’t you go help Sam?” As Jack turned to go do just that Cas stopped him, “Wait. Don’t believe anything he says. He’s lying.”

“No I’m not. And I can still hear you. Funny how that is, when you chain someone up they can’t exactly exit a conversation.”

Cas walked fully into the map room as Jack and Emma made their way over to Sam and then sat in the chair right in front of Michael. As he looked upon him he gained a real understanding of what he’d done to Dean by saying yes to Lucifer. Fully understood what the venom Lucifer spat did when it came from the mouth of a friend. From someone you love, his treacherous brain thought. But Dean didn’t feel that way, only he had to deal with that level of pain.

“Look at you,” Michael started, “playing nursemaid to a nephil. Nothing like the Castiel I knew. He would’ve never been so…anemic. It’s almost embarrassing to look at you. You’ve fallen so far. From leader of a garrison to Dean Winchester’s babysitter.”

“You confuse loyalty and compassion with weakness. And I am no babysitter, Jack sees me as their father, and I do my best to live up to that. Family is more important than being a soldier. Than following orders that do nothing to help anyone.”

“Tell me, why do you love this world enough to risk your own life?”

Because of Dean, because he showed me how much more there is to humans, how much love exists and what it means. He couldn’t say that, he’d never be able to. Not to Dean’s face even if he weren’t conscious. So instead he threw the question back at Michael, “Tell me, why do you hate this world enough to burn it to the ground?”

“Because I can. Because...Me and my brother, my Lucifer, when we fought in my world, we thought God would come back. Give us answers. Why he’d gone, what we’d done, but instead do you know what happened?” Michael looked into Cas’s eyes, “Nothing. No God. Nothing.”

Michael clenched Dean’s jaw almost imperceptibly before continuing, “And now...now that I’m here, now I know why. God, Chuck,” he spat “is a writer, and like all writers he churns out draft after draft. My world? This world? Nothing but failed drafts. And when He realizes that they’re flawed, He moves on. Tries again. Being the good, dutiful son got me nothing. My father, he abandoned me, and he’ll abandon you.”

“No, that’s not how,” Cas couldn’t find the words, “Why, why would he do that?”

“BECAUSE HE DOESN’T CARE!” Michael’s composure finally broke as he yelled at Castiel. “About you, me, anything in creation,” each statement was punctuated with a pause. “We are all just attempts at getting what he wants.” Michael had pulled it back with the second half of his statement, he’d regained his composure and knew what he wanted to get across to Cas. What his vision for it all was.

“At first, I thought I’d do it better. Be more God than God. But you’ve tried that, and you have seen how little attention it garners. If he won’t look upon his creations, well the only thing left to do is to burn the world down. To burn them all down until I catch up to the old man.”

“And then what?”

“Even God can die. And he will. He’ll pay for his abandonment, for throwing us in the trash. He will feel what he has done to us and he will pay.”

--

As Sam was putting the finishing touches on the machine to get inside Dean’s head Emma spoke up, “Uncle Sammy, I think I should go in. You and Jack should stand by and keep an eye out for trouble. You’re the more experienced hunter. And you do know Dad better, but I think I might have an easier time getting him to fight back against Michael.”

Sam didn’t love that Emma had picked up calling him Sammy from Dean over the years but he could see she was probably right. She could get Dean to agree to just about anything, but he was worried about her seeing the awful memories in Dean’s head. “You’re probably right, but are you sure you can handle it? He’s been through so much, are you okay to see it? Do you think he’s okay with you seeing it? I know he’d rather fight against Michael forever if it meant you never saw the kind of stuff we’ve been through.”

“I can handle it. And besides, I know about a lot of it.”

Jack looked up from the wire they were helping connect, “Do we even know this is going to work?” 

“I don’t know. I hope,” Sam gave a weak smile.

“Well, if it doesn’t, maybe there’s something I can do. The magic keeping me alive, what if I can do more?”

“No, absolutely not,” Emma interjected.

“It’ll burn off your soul,” Sam looked at Jack wondering exactly what caused them to think that was a valid option.

“Not all of it, it could work if we need it.”

“Jack, no. Dean wouldn’t want to be saved, not that way. Okay, it’s not an option.” Sam couldn’t lose them again, he couldn’t.

“You don’t know what we’re walking into, it might be the only option,” Jack needed to help. They hated feeling like they weren’t able to do anything. Like they were the burden Michael called them. They had to help their family.

“Last time Dean was possessed, he said it felt like he was drowning.” Sam let out a deep sigh, “This time.”

“What?”

“It’ll probably be worse.”

--

Cas began strapping the electrodes to Michael’s head to connect him to the machine and subsequently Emma.

“Cool science project. I give it a solid B minus,” Michael said in such a way he almost sounded like Dean. 

“So in theory you should be connected to Dean’s mind, you ready for this?” Sam was holding onto Emma’s shoulder to keep her comforted, “It’s not too late to swap out.”

“I’m good,” she gave a weak smile and took a deep breath, “Cas’ll hitch a ride with me. I won’t be alone. It’ll be okay. We’ll bring him back.” She gave Jack a more confident smile and a nod.

Ever the attention whore, Michael gave a snarky “Oh, Cas, I believe in you.” As if his opinion mattered in the slightest, as if anyone in the room cared what he had to say.

“What should I do?” Jack asked?

“Pray,” Cas replied.

“And help me make sure no one kills them,” Sam added.

“Well, I like this plan,” Michael declared, “See, out here, I’m all chained up. But in there, well, in there you’re all mine. So, what is it we’re waiting for?”

Cas replaces Sam’s hand on Emma’s shoulder and turns on the machine, in a blink the two of them are in a space that is black and empty. Cas’s hackles rise, he knows he’s in Dean’s head, he knows he hasn’t been happy enough for his deal to come due. He isn’t back in the empty, he’s safe with Emma in Dean’s head. But he’s nervous, Emma is too apparently as she grabs hold of his hand with serious strength. In her nerves she’d forgotten to regulate her strength, not that it mattered with Cas, but she usually tried to keep to normal human levels to avoid slipping up and hurting someone she cared about.

“So this is what Dad’s head looks like? Guess it’s as empty as Uncle Sam jokes,” her crappy joke falls as flat as she expected. But if you don’t laugh you cry and she needed to be strong, to get her dad back. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

Cas holds up the hand Emma isn’t clutching and his grace glows out from it, not the blinding white that a smiting brings, but a warm golden glow that makes Emma think of Jack’s power.

From the void around them comes Dean’s voice shouting from all directions, a thousand memories at once given voice through Cas’s power.

“We had a Deal!” His final words before being taken by Michael the first time, “Wait. Hold on okay?” HIs words to a young dying Sam. “You’re gonna die! And this- This is what you’re gonna become!” Dream demon Dean from all those years ago when his deal had been made but yet to be fulfilled on his part. “Somebody help me!” Dean on the rack, his first day in hell. “Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died.” Back to the demon dream version of Dean.

“There’s so much, so much trauma in Dean’s mind. So many scars.”

“He’s been through so much, but he’s strong.”

“You have too, and he is more than strong. But what I meant was, if I knew…if I knew what I was looking for, I could, I could simply go to it. But Michael has him trapped away, drowning, and I have to wade through the worst of Dean’s terrible memories to find him.”

Emma squeezed his hand in hers not envying the task ahead of him. And then it hit her. “Wait,” she pulled him to face her dead on, “Michael wouldn’t drown him in trauma. Not this time. Not when that’s what made him leave the first time. Dad fought back too hard with that. Think about it, he’d give him something he couldn’t resist. He’d make him happy, make him want to stay down. He isn’t in his worst memory. He’s happy,” a bright genuine smile crossed Emma’s face for the first time in days. She had real hope. They could do this.

“So we look through his good memories,” Cas seemed to stand a little taller, he could feel the hope too. He raised his hand again and let his grace flow out.

Dean’s voice entered the void again, his good memories played out around them. “I think I’m adorable,” came the voice of a young arrested Dean. “You don't know me, but my name is Emma.” She remembered that night, how scared and excited she was. “Finally. I'll stay here, hook up with the posse. 'Cause you know me -- I'm a posse magnet.” Of course his wild west adventures make the list of really happy memories. “Strippers, Sammy, strippers. We're on an actual case involving strippers.” And finally “I’m an angel of the Lord,” came out in the voice of Cas from the night they met in that barn.

Hearing Dean’s happy memories was almost overwhelming. Hearing their introductions to Dean be included was almost overwhelming, but hearing a memory that didn’t match with reality bought them back. They knew where to go. What they needed to do. Cas zeroed in on it and pulled them to that memory.

When they got there they found Dean in a kitchen with two toddlers in highchairs. He looked up from where he sat in front of the highchairs feeding the kids.

“Cas, you’re home! I thought you were still helping Sam out with the ghouls in Wichita? And who’s that?” Dean’s whole face lit up as he addressed Cas but switched to confusion as he looked to Emma, he didn’t recognize her. Why didn’t he recognize her?

“Dad, it’s me, it’s Emma.”

“No, that’s not possible,” Dean was confused but seemingly unbothered, “this is Emma.” He lifted one of the toddlers up and put her on his hip, swiping the mess off her face with the dish towel that had been laying on his right shoulder and moved towards the sink. “Cas, can you grab Jack, I wanna get them cleaned up. These two can get food anywhere but their mouths,” he chuckled.

Cas stared at him for a second, focusing as hard as he could on the truth of the situation and the potential horrors facing Jack and Sam if Michael’s monsters reach the bunker. He couldn’t let this make him as happy as it would normally. It was everything he wanted. To raise their kids together, to let them have messy wonderful childhoods. He did see Emma as a little bit his. And he thinks she sees him like a second dad to a degree. But he couldn’t indulge this fantasy as much as he yearned to. It wasn’t real. Michael was and he was keeping Dean here. That was their focus.

“Dad. That isn’t the real Emma, I am. I grew up in three days, remember. I showed up at your motel room. You told me I didn’t have to kill like the Amazons told me I had to. I’m your daughter, she’s just a dream. A life we could have had in a different world. Please, Dad, it’s me,” she was on the verge of tears. She’d never considered he wouldn’t recognize her.

Dean looked between the two, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my daughter. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dean, this isn’t real. Emma’s right, this is a dream. And Michael wants you trapped here. He’s using your body. You have to fight. You have to take back control.”

Dean was seeing through the cracks, he didn’t want to. He could live in a world where his kids never saw the pain and horror and experienced the death they had in the real world. It wasn’t real but who cared. Tears welled up in his eyes. “No, this is Emma, that’s Jack. They’re turning 2 next month.” He was doing the same thing Mary had when he went into her head. And he hated himself a little. But he was happy. Just a little bit. Couldn’t he have that? Couldn’t his little girl be a little girl just a minute longer? Couldn’t Jack just be a messy toddler who loved their sister and the cookie cereal Dean would give him bites of when Cas wasn’t looking? Couldn’t he and Cas be happy for just a minute longer, be together for a minute. Have Cas love him back for a minute. As he realized the truth, the Emma in his arms faded from existence. Little Jack in their highchair did too. He couldn’t even say goodbye. He could see them again in a dream, but his kids needed him awake.

“I know it hurts Dean. But you need to remember. We need you. You have to fight to be able to fight Michael. Dean, you’re strong. You can handle it,” Cas needed his Dean. He needed him to realize this, while incredible and so tempting, was just a dream and not reality.

“I remember,” flashes of everything Michael did while using his body played out in his memory, “I remember everything. He walked over to Emma and pulled her into a hug, kissing her on her head. “I’m so sorry kiddo.”

“Aww isn’t that adorable,” Michael had arrived. He was going to try and keep Dean from breaking out and gaining control.

Dean pulled out of the hug and angled himself in front of her, he wasn’t going to let Michael lay a finger on her. Not again. “Get out of my head you son of a bitch.”

“You don’t mean that, Dean, not really. You may lie to them, but deep down, I know you. I am you. You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he ‘gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.’ Or whatever. But all he’s done since is make mistakes, one after another. How many times has he done something that almost got you killed, or actually killed for that matter? And Emma, dear sweet Emma, you are a living reminder of his bad decisions. You’re not even human! He could have actually loved you if you were, but, well. It’s almost like raising Sam all over again. A burden he never asked for, a child not quite human that he’s always thinking about having to kill if it goes evil.”

“You shut the hell up!” Dean could handle Michael flinging abuse at him, but to lie to his family and pretend that was how Dean felt about them was too far.

“You don’t need them. You don’t even like them. They’re not human. What would daddy say if he saw you now? Huh? Would he be proud, or would he tell you you weren’t worth making the trip to Hell?”

“You don’t know a damn thing. You think you do but you don’t.”

“He’s stalling,” Cas moved to look Michael in the eye, “you’re stalling.”

Michael smiled, “Am I?”

“He’s trying to buy time so his monsters can come rescue him,” Emma scoffed, “It’s not gonna work asshole. They’re not getting through Sam and Jack.”

“You think I need them to save me? Please.”

“Yeah, if you’re so tough then snap your fingers and nuke us all. Make our bodies splatter into goo, you archangels are good at that.” Dean knew he couldn’t do it, he wasn’t completely clear on how he knew it exactly. But he was confident.

“Is that what you want?” Michael was doing his best to bluff but Dean had the same face. He knew how his tells presented themselves.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled, “I do.”

“He can’t. Because, in here, we’re all just mental projections, so in here, we’re all the same,” Cas called Michael’s bluff.

“In here you’re nothing but talk. And that talk wasn’t worth much either. So let’s go shit dick,” Emma got herself ready to fight. She knew it would be hard, she was the shortest one so she knew she had a disadvantage there. But Michael was used to commanding people, not fighting on the front lines. If they could rush him and get him off balance they could best him.

“You think I need my powers? I destroy worlds, and I’d crush you with my bare hands,” Michael wasn’t just trying to convince them, he was trying to convince himself too.

“So prove it,” Dean goaded.

“You haven’t thought this out have you? Say you could force me out, what do you think I’d leave behind, hmm? You’d be nothing. Just blood and bone. A hollow vessel.”

Dean remembers Raphael’s first vessel, he was left a drooling mess by the archangel. No care for the man who’d said yes. “Then we don’t kick you out, I keep you in.”

The three of them rush Michael and try to force him through the open basement door. He gives as good as he gets knocking them down until Emma heaves one good hit to his chest knocking him down the stairs only managing to stay upright as Cas grabs her around the middle and pulls her back into the kitchen. Dean swoops in and locks the door and puts a chair under the handle for good measure.

From the other side of the door they hear Michael scream, enraged at the thought of being bested, at the fact he’s been trapped. That he, the self proclaimed destroyer of worlds, is held captive in the basement of a house in Dean Winchester’s mind.

“It’ll hold. My mind, my rules. I got him,” a mixture of grief and delight moves across his face, “I’m the Cage.”

They exit Dean’s mind to find Sam and Jack in the bunker with Maggie and Tiger of Apocalypse World surrounded by bodies of some of Michael’s monsters and dust from others that Jack had demolished with his powers. The last part was much more worrisome than the fact that the monsters had gotten in. Jack using their powers could cause their soul to burn much faster and leave them with nothing. After they had cleaned up Cas talked to them about that and explained why he was so worried. Jack understood, but they’d do it again if it kept their family safe. They’d do anything to keep their family safe.

--

Around 6 in the morning Emma started making breakfast. She started by making cinnamon rolls from scratch as the dough needed time to prove, then moved on to some buckwheat pancakes for Sam, bacon for her Dad, and some eggs for protein right before everyone started waking up. When Dean strolled in, called by the siren smell of fresh coffee and breakfast Emma smiled at him.

“I thought we could have a nice family breakfast. I know you wish we were a little more normal,” Emma trailed off slightly and Dean took the opportunity to jump in.

“I don’t care about normal. I’d have loved to watch you grow up at a normal pace and get to have a safe happy childhood, but I wouldn’t trade what I’ve got for a second. I love you for who you are, don’t doubt that. Not one bit okay? And I wish Jack could have had the same, had Kelly there for them, or at least Cas the whole time. But they're doing okay too. Hell I wish Sammy could have had a more normal childhood at times even. But we’re here, we’re together, and that’s all that matters.”

Emma brightened up. “You wanna get Jack and Uncle Sammy or should I? I already sent out a prayer so Cas knows to come.”

“You might just have him twisted around your finger slightly too much, how bout you get your brother, I’ll get mine. Sound good?”

“Perfect.”

--

If you want to be tagged or have something you think would be cool for me to explore send me an ask or message

taglist: @smokerdean @milfcodeddean@s4x01 @jewishdeanwinchester @deanwinchestersotherphone @dykes4dean @jessicareaper @paranormal-potatoes @emmamarywinchester

Also now on AO3

AN: So the decision to go from Rocky’s bar to a cute domestic scene is very much because @milfcodeddean has made me think about wonderful it would have been to have Dean with as many babies as possible. I absolutely recommend any of her babiesnatural stuff

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Thirty-Six: How I Did It - By Jack The Ripper

Rated PG-13: For dark themes and language

Masterlist

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

"He's here."

Crossing the Event-Horizon

That's what that's called. I've always thought that's the most beautiful way of putting it. The words have a certain ring to them.

Crossing the Event-Horizon

It means crossing the point of no return. That itself - the point of no return - could mean a lot of things. It could mean the beginning. It could mean the end. It could mean the infinite. It could mean life. It could mean death. It could mean war, peace, happiness, sadness, or anything in between.

But it means one thing for sure.

Crossing the Event-Horizon means there's no going back.

If I had to identify a beginning to the end of my story, then I think that little red dot on the map of time is where I'd stick my proverbial pin. That one little sentence, those two little words.

Yes, it was that moment, I think.

That was when it all started to go wrong.

"Felix is here," I said quietly, "He's outside."

I didn't know what I was going to do to get my revenge from that point. All I knew was, in order to kill Felix, I would need to get to him. And that meant getting away from Jack. Getting away from the son of the devil is something certainly easier said than done.

I would have to do it in a manner which would compel him and the Winchesters to come 'save me'. Of course, I could just knock Jack out and ditch him, but then I would have no back-up if things with Felix went sour. Now, if there was one thing I had learned in the five years leading up to my presence in that lighthouse, it was redundancy. It never hurts to have a safety net. Mine just happened to be a Nephilim.

"You remembered to lock the door, right?" Jack joked. I huffed a laugh. "We're safe in here. Don't worry, Marty. I'll protect you."

Isaac shook his head. "Felix has hostages. Two of 'em." He informed me.

"It's not me I'm worried about," I said to Jack, "This is a hostage situation."

The Nephilim's expression darkened and Isaac rolled his eyes.

"Personally, I say we go on the offensive. I mean, ya boyfriend here has more than enough juice to disintegrate seven dudes, right? Just waltz out there like we own the place, boom, clap, poof, TA-DA!"

"Ya know, that's actually not that bad of a plan," I said, nodding. I relayed the message to Jack who nodded.

"I could do it." He seemed confident.

"Felix brought six helpers. Have you ever dusted that many guys before?" I asked.

"I have, yes. Many more, in fact."

Well, that was... thoroughly disturbing. He seemed so calm about it. As if anyone who stood against him was nothing more than an obstacle. That could be me one day. That could be me tomorrow.

"Alright then, lead the way," I said, smirking.

Is it bad that I hoped something would happen to Jack? Nothing deadly, of course. Just something that would stop him from using his powers to take my revenge for me. Felix was mine. I needed to be the one to kill him. If Jack did it then what had been the point of it all? So, was it bad of me to hope that the quickest, cleanest solution wouldn't be the one that played out?

Was that wrong?

Did that make me evil?

Did I care if it did?

"Everything's going to be fine, Marty. You'll see." And Jack smiled at me softly and I wondered how long that would last.

I found myself standing beside him at the door to the lighthouse. My blood was boiling for a fight because this was it. Felix was on the other side of that door and in a few hours, I would be free, one way or another. Jack turned the handle.

Across the Event-Horizon.

A vampire, a ghost, and a Nephilim stepped out into the muggy night air. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was more the beginning of a new era, at least for me. I stayed mostly hidden beside Jack, maintaining my air of powerlessness. Isaac stepped into place at the Nephilim's other side to match. I could feel the heat of Felix's presence bleeding through the space between us. He carried with him the foul stench of burning tar and just his scent made me want to wrinkle my nose.

He stood about ten feet away from Isaac, Jack, and me, flanked by six other vampires. There was no army, not that I had expected there to be - that wasn't how Felix worked. He didn't need an army, he'd brought two hostages. Two humans knelt on the ground in front of each of Felix's lackeys, poised to die.

Felix's lips stretched into something that approximated a smile but his little ruse was transparent. I could see the hate simmering in his eyes.

"This little game of ours has been fun but a score still stands to be settled and its resolution, I do believe, is long overdue. There is no place left for you to run, child. Are you finally ready to face judgment for your crimes, Martina?" He said. A smile spread across my face to match his.

"Are you?" I challenged, leaving all human emotion out of my voice. I had been so afraid of him before, but that fear was in the past. I had come to witness true power, I had seen it up close and Felix Ashton Monroe was nothing in comparison. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

"I suppose you'll just have to find that out," He said. "Now, I've just had a rather unsavory chat with one Samuel Winchester. Barbarians those boys are - him and his brother. I do so hope you'll remember the manners I taught you and come along like a civilized being."

"Ready when you are," Isaac reported. His Darth Vader figure was tucked safely in my boot and I counted the fact that Felix didn't know about him as one of the few advantages I had. Both Isaac and I knew that in order to keep that advantage my brother would have to suffer through being dragged behind a car via his attachment to the figure to prevent Felix from noticing his presence. We had decided a long time ago that I wouldn't face Felix alone. Isaac had protested against us facing him at all.

It was ironic, really. He was the ghost, yet out of the two of us, I was the vengeful one. See, Isaac had never sought revenge against Felix. The only person Isaac wanted vengeance against was himself. He sought punishment for his failure to keep me safe, to keep any of us safe. I suppose he got his wish. Ever since that night, Isaac remained trapped on earth with what was less of a mission and more of a duty. To keep me alive. If one looked at it properly, that was another advantage. Isaac had been formidable when he was alive, but as a vengeful spirit and with a threat on my life to power him up, Isaac was alarmingly deadly.

I didn't need to send him a discreet nod to acknowledge his words. The two of us had been preparing for this moment for five years. We knew our roles. We knew what we had to do.

"Marty isn't going anywhere with you," Jack cut in, his voice firm.

"You're Jack Kline I presume," Felix said in his usual drawling tone. His voice too reminded me of tar with the way it oozed lazily around his words. Everything about him was so clean and sharp yet somehow it was all horrifically revolting.

"I am, yes." Jack nodded. He was trying to sound confident and authoritative, mimicking Sam or Dean or Castiel. But he wasn't like them, it wasn't in his nature. Jack was too soft. Felix regarded him with a smirk, studying the boy in a calculating manner as if Jack were merely a rare antiquity he was appraising in an effort to determine its value.

"The boy born to rule..." He hummed, drawing out the words almost reverently. "Yer smaller than the rumors describe ye to be."

"So are you," Jack replied, standing up straighter and lifting his chin confidently.

"Oh, I'm afraid not." That slime ball cracked a smile. "I'm much too careful to allow for rumors of my physical appearance to drift beyond my reach."

"Really?" Jack challenged. "Because it seems like Martina found us. She told us everything about you."

Felix just laughed like he was talking to something as insignificant as a flea.

"Do ye never listen, young one? I said I don't allow rumors to drift beyond my reach. Seeing as Martina is standing directly ahead of me, I'd say she is well within my grasp. That which is mine does not escape me, laddie. She knows that better than anyone," Felix said.

"If you're so careful, then why come here yourself?" Jack asked, struggling to remain impassive. He didn't really have a poker face.

"Why, because unlike an amateur I actually quite enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. Especially with a vendetta this personal. Isn't that right, Martina?" Felix taunted. "Will you be coming willingly or not?"

"I said you can't have her," The half-angel forcefully growled. Jack pushed me behind him, shielding me from my creator's gaze.

"Is that so? I was unaware you had a choice in the matter," Felix accosted, seemingly amused. "Were your circumstances not clearly implicit in the situation? No? Very well! If you insist against using so much as a modicum of intelligence, I suppose I'll have to explain this situation to you. See, these dirty, pathetic excuses for intelligent life forms you see trembling before you are called humans, dear boy. I hear you're quite fond of them, and today they are playing the role which we in the criminal world usually refer to as the hostage. Now, their miserable little lives are in your hands, Jack. I am a man of my word thus I will gladly release them, alive and well, upon the prompt return of my property. However, I will not hesitate to rip them both to shreds right in front of you if I don't get my way. Do you understand that , boy?"

Jack didn't respond. He appeared torn between protecting me and saving the lives of the hostages.

"Good," Felix droned, "Now, are you ready to leave, Martina dear?"

" You don't get to speak to her ," Jack snarled. His teeth snapped together with an audible click as he threw his arm out in front of me, not quite ready to give up. Felix rolled his eyes.

"Must we really do this the hard way?" He asked, boredom evident in his tone.

"Yes."

Felix tilted his head and his gaze flicked to me. I could see a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Tell me, lassie. Have you kissed him yet?" He chuckled. Then, abruptly, his expression darkened. "Or is he just that stupid? "

"Who says I did anything?" I replied evenly. Felix huffed, rolling his eyes.

"So you have?" He turned his attention to Jack who just seemed confused. "Did you enjoy it, me boy? If you'll recall, I did wish you a very exciting first, did I not?"

"Marty, what's he talking about?" Jack asked, doubt wavering in his voice. I didn't answer him. Felix was taking a chisel to the wall I'd built in that boy's head. Not causing enough damage to send it crumbling, but planting enough doubt for it to hurt even worse when it did.

"Ah, my devious little Martina," Felix sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "You're as predictable as you are appallingly cruel."

"Guess I learned from the best," I hissed, glaring at him.

"Does that mean you'll be sensible?" He asked, raising a brow.

"You're not taking her!" My angel boy yelled. "She's mine. " A shock ran through my bones as Jack's powers ignited and his metaphysical wings spread out in front of me in a terrifying reminder of what he truly was.

Felix didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled.

"That's cute," He said, gesturing to Jack's massive wings. Then, he straightened the cuffs of his suit and sighed. From out of his pocket he retrieved a box of matches, pulling one out and striking it. He tossed the match lazily in front of him, the reflection of its tiny flame dancing in his eyes.

The match hit the sand and flickering orange flames erupted from where it landed. The fire spread outward in a ring that encompassed the entire lighthouse, trapping me, Jack, and Isaac inside.

Jack hissed through his teeth as he watched the flames die down. They were low enough to pass easily through, so how were they supposed to contain us?

"In case ye can't tell, that there is holy fire," Felix informed, tucking the matches back in his pocket. "Any angel who finds themselves encircled by holy fire is rendered powerless, and if one tries to step through those flames, one will be instantly vaporized." He looked up again, unimpressed. "Don't get smart with me, boy . I am thousands of years your senior. I'll do with that disgusting whore whatever I damn please."

"No, you won't !"Jack yelled. His wings flared out and a blazing golden light poured from him like molten metal. The air buzzed with a divine power that burned my skin from standing so close. He was like sunlight, and it burned. I cowered away but watched in awe as Jack's veins lit beneath his skin as if gold were pumping through them instead of blood. Because that's what Jack Kline was. He was power. With a sudden ferocity, the flames leaped up, roaring around his body in an effort to keep him trapped inside. But Jack did the impossible and stepped beyond the ring with a cry of effort.

Felix did not cower away as his underlings did; he merely tilted his head with slight interest.

"How intriguing," He mused, folding his hands in front of him. "Tell me, lad. How did you manage that?"

Jack glared at Felix, his chest heaving, for I could tell that act had caused him pain.

"I'm not an angel."

Jack raised his hand, poised to snap the monsters all into dust.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Felix half-heartedly warned.

"Why not?" The Nephilim ground out.

The vampire smiled coolly. "Because these fine specimens here are not my only hostages." Of course, he had more. He was always prepared.

"Where are the others?" Jack demanded, eyes flaring.

"They're safe and sound, I assure ye. Unless, of course, you try to do somethin' stupid, such as kill me. If that's the case, and I do hope it's not, then my people have orders to do some rather unsavory things to a room full of children." Felix raised a brow, daring Jack to make a move against him.

"I can save them," Jack said, confident.

"Please! Ye don't even know where they are!" He scoffed. "Do what ye must, Jack Kline. But I really do fear for the children." Jack gritted his teeth but said nothing. He knew he was beaten. "That's better." Felix turned his attention to me. "Give up this pitiful act of yours, Martina. Come on out. You know this is checkmate."

I stepped away from Jack and stood tall, allowing the thing that had made me to see the steel in my eyes. I passed Jack and planted myself in front of Felix.

"This isn't checkmate, Monroe. This is merely check. I'll be damned before I walk into something with no way out, you know that better than anyone." My voice was calm and cool and I let it chill him. It was my real voice, not that other one I always used to put people at ease. My real voice was the one that makes people do what I want.

The corner of Felix's mouth twitched up. "Oh, yes. I know." He leaned down, his face merely an inch away from mine. "I'm looking forward to it."

"So, where's the car?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Right this way, m'dear." He gestured towards the dirt road a ways away and started toward it. I began to follow but Jack's voice made me stop.

"You're a monster," He spat, shaking with rage. His pained expression had morphed into one of hatred and his glowing golden eyes fixed on Felix.

Felix twisted around, mildly amused more than anything.

"Empathy, humanity, and morality make you weak, boy. Alas, weakness is a bitch , isn't it?" He smirked, basking in the pain he caused.

"I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!" Jack screamed. His power flared with his anger but there was nothing he could do. The absolute helplessness and hopelessness of his situation finally dawned on him. He never could stand feeling helpless.

"Hold on, I'm confused. Is that not what you do ?" Felix jeered, lifting a brow. Jack froze, his eyes going wide and puppy-like as the vampire's words hit him in the heart. His rage and power dimmed.

"W-What?" Poor thing. His voice sounded so small. He had never been made for this.

"You're the Winchester's attack dog, are ye' not?" Felix clarified. "Playing judge, jury, and executioner for anything you deem a monster."

"You are a monster," Jack scowled, clenching his fists.

"Oh, I know that!" Felix laughed. "But I like to think I've done quite a bit to earn me that title. There are, however, six quite innocent and quite human patients in critical condition at a Manhattan hospital. Six patients, who you put there. Those weren't monsters now, were they?"

Jack's face paled. Sam and Dean had said everyone was fine. Sam and Dean had lied. "H-How did- How did you-"

"That was some stunt you pulled in Times Square, boy," He mused. "Did you really think I wouldn't know about it?"

"Th-that w-was... I-it wasn't... I didn't mean to I-" Jack shook his head in denial. "It was an accident!"

"Why, of course it was!" Felix laughed. "You've not a malicious heart nor the disposition to take an innocent life. Dear boy, you are but a loaded gun for the Winchesters aim at anything they don't like."

Jack shook his head. "T-that's not true! I kill things that are evil because they hurt people." His words sounded hollow like they were something practiced. Like something that had been pounded into him.

"Do ye now? Because as I recall, you killed your own mother and ye' don't even know why. Sad, that." Felix smiled. "You kill because you were bred to; it's your purpose. It's almost cute, the son of the devil thinking he's a hero."

"I am ! I'm a hunter!" Jack insisted.

"You are not a hero," Felix sneered, shaking his head. "You are a murderer, Jack Kline. What else could ya be?" The Scottish man turned on his heel, not caring much to hear what the Nephilim had to say.

"Y-you're wrong. You're wrong about me!" That was all Jack could force out. He tried so hard to keep the tears at bay. I shook my head and turned away from him to follow my creator. "M-Marty?" Jack called out from behind me, his voice laced with desperation and confusion.

I stopped.

In that moment, I finally stripped away the final pieces of the human girl I'd made for him. The girl I'd designed for him to love. Jack would never see her again. That girl was gone now. And good riddance to her; I hoped she'd never come back.

Because she was weak.

And I was not.

Because she was human.

And I was a monster.

Because she was kind.

And I was cruel.

Because she was innocent.

And I was insane.

Because she was honest and grateful.

And I was a deceitful manipulator.

Because she was the blissful mirage.

And I was the horrid reality.

Because she was perfect.

And I never could be.

Because Jack Kline loved that sweet girl.

But that girl wasn't ME.

She never had been.

Of course, I still loved him which only made this harder. But I supposed that in a few hours that would be of no consequence. He wouldn't care. And that fact hurt like a needle to the heart, but pain only brings power to those with nothing left to lose. So, I threw my head back and I laughed as I embraced that pain, just as I did for every other cut and bruise I had ever received. That needle was one in a million and all that pain was what made me real. So, I sighed and turned back to where my angel boy stood, staring at me like some lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I said sweetly, "Thanks for getting me this far, I don't think I could have done it without you. Unfortunately, this is something I have to do on my own. This is my last page and nobody can write it for me."

"You can't go," He said, shaking his head. There were tears in his eyes but none in mine. I smiled at him and that was the first he'd seen from me that was real, because, for the first time, Jack was talking to me.

"Why are you worried, Jack?" I was surprised at how smooth and pleasing my own voice sounded, now that I took notice. My real voice was why I was dangerous; when I used it I could make anyone do anything. But there was a reason I had been masking it for so long. It was what had gotten me into this in the first place. "I know you'll come to save me."

"What if I'm too late?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"Then I'll be there waiting for you," I answered.

"You'll die," Jack whispered. I laughed lightly, shaking my head.

"I'm not going to die today, Jack."

"You don't know that!"

"I've known for longer than you think," I said. I watched his teary, desperate expression and copied it to my memory as best as I could. It was the last time he'd look at me that way. At least for a while. "Just do me one last favor?"

"Anything," Jack promised.

"There's a girl you haven't met yet, try not to hate her when you do." I smiled and Jack nodded, trying his best to stay strong.

Then I left him there.

Alone in the sand, he watched a stranger he thought he loved going to what he thought was her death and vowed to save her from it.

Was it wrong for me to deceive him?

Did I care if it was?

***

Sam paced back and forth along the length of the lighthouse as he waited for Dean and Castiel to return. Every few minutes or so he would check his watch anxiously and run a hand through his hair, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before he resumed his pacing.

But Jack wasn't paying attention to that. He was busy staring at his hands. There were too many thoughts racing through his head for him to focus on any one of them. It had all happened so fast and there was nothing he could have done, but it didn't feel that way. Jack felt responsible. Martina was going to die because of him. It was his fault.

It was always his fault.

The door of the Lighthouse burst open, revealing Dean and Cas standing there in the driving rain that had come on before anyone had time to notice. Dean threw himself inside and Cas trailed after him, taking the time to close the lighthouse door while Dean shook the rain off like an oversized dog.

"What took you so long?" Sam was immediately questioning. "Where were you?"

"Gettin' information," Dean smirked. "It took a while, but one of the bloodsuckers squealed. What happened here, Jack?"

"I kissed Martina," Jack blurted out.

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Cas asked in unison, sharing the same disbelieving expression.

Jack hadn't meant to say it but it just sort of came out. It probably wasn't his fault, though. Jack simply couldn't stop thinking about every detail of his time with the girl in the lighthouse. He wanted to focus on what had happened after, but his brain simply wouldn't cooperate.

"I, um... I kissed Martina..." He repeated, somewhat nervously. "And I think I liked it..."

Had he liked it? Jack thought so; he was pretty sure. But something about it felt off.

Why had he kissed her in the first place? What had compelled him to do that? Jack didn't know.

His memories of the kiss were strange. He remembered clearly the emotions he'd felt, and the intensity of them. Yet, for some reason, Jack couldn't seem to recall where those feelings had come from. He had wanted to kiss Martina, but not like that... Or... maybe he had? It felt to Jack as if the decisions he'd made weren't his own. He couldn't even remember making any decisions, really. All he remembered was those feelings and acting on them. Something about that seemed off to him but Jack wasn't sure. He supposed it wasn't that out of the ordinary for him to behave impulsively. On the contrary, he tended to do that quite a lot. So, what was bothering him?

"Wait..." Dean paled, "You and Marty... You- You two didn't, like... do it in a lighthouse, right?"

Jack tilted his head, brows furrowing. "Do what?"

"C-Cas?" Dean's face whitened another shade as he turned to the seraph. "Please tell me your son didn't-" Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh.

"No, Dean. I really don't think they did anything," He said, rolling his eyes.

"Not everyone is like you," Sam added. Dean waved him off.

"Yeah, okay, but why am I the only one gettin' weirded out by this?" He exclaimed.

"Because we have bigger problems, Dean!" Sam pointed out, exasperated. Sam seemed anxious and Jack wondered what he wanted to tell them.

"Well, I think this is pretty big!" Dean insisted, turning to Jack. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I don't understand what you mean. Martina and I kissed." Jack said simply.

"Dean, seriously. I-" Sam tried. Dean held up a hand, sighing.

Dean sighed. "Jack... Y-You don't do that."

"Dean! Listen-"

"Not now, Sam!" Dean cut him off again.

"Why not? Jack asked, frowning.

"Look, ya just- Ya gotta wait a little while, man!" Dean said, running a hand over his face. "I mean, Marty's like, twelve!" He insisted. By then, Sam had decided he'd had it.

"No, Dean! She's really not!" The younger Winchester yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?" Dean was shocked by his brother's sudden outburst. Sam took a deep breath to calm himself now that he had everyone's attention.

"Martina's not as young as we think she is. I-I think she's older, m-much older." Sam said, stress leaking into his tone.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Cas asked.

"I'm saying we've been played."

***

The car ride was smooth and it was the first time I'd been in a limo, so naturally, I took the comforts offered me. I stretched out across the seat, lounging as I stared out the tinted window. I didn't worry about Felix sitting directly across from me. I knew he didn't want to kill me. Not yet anyway.

"I'm curious, how did you manage to fool them?" He asked, watching me with a comfortable expression.

I shrugged. "Long story, lots of boring details."

"Indulge me," He insisted.

"Why should I?" I asked. He shrugged, mimicking me.

"I'm simply curious."

I hummed. "I bet you are."

He smirked. "Well, what can I say? It's just my nature." I nodded vaguely, continuing to stare out the window. We both knew how this would end. There was no real reason not to tell him.

"Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel..." I said their names thoughtfully, allowing the corner of my lips to twitch up into a sly smile. "They seem so simple at first glance. You have the poor unfortunate soul who lost so much yet kept his kindness, the perfect killer who spent his whole life at war, and the fallen angel who found a home. But if that was all there was then I never would have fooled them. However, for men who claim to be so faithless, there's so much they want to believe in."

"Whot do ye mean?" Felix asked, tilting his head. I smirked lazily. T

"I'll start with Sam. Sam is kind because he's damaged, but the last thing he is is a fool. When someone's good at unraveling lies, the last thing you do is give them a really big one to unravel. If you do that, then they'll cut right through and they'll figure you out easily. So, what do you do? You give them distractions. Hide puzzles within puzzles and Sam will stop to solve each one because he loves it. But how do you get him to ignore the big picture?" I stopped and grinned.

"It's easy really. All I had to do was appeal to his hate. Sam Winchester is so extraordinarily full of such raw and powerful hate, that if you simply aim it at a conceivable target, he can ignore anything else. And of course, with his hate blinding him to the truth, Sam can't figure out the lie. All one has to do to fool Sam is give him a puzzle to solve and something to hate.

"So, I made him hate you."

***

"How?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"It's Marty. We can't trust her," Sam said. Dean scoffed

"After all that lecturing earlier? Why the hell not?" He demanded. Sam took a nervous breath.

"Because she's been lying to us, Dean," He said. "I-I think she's been lying to us this whole time."

Dean's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about, Sam?" His voice was tight and guarded.

"I talked to Felix after I saved the little girl," Sam admitted.

"You just stood there and talked to that son of a bitch! He's a sick, messed up, psychopath! Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean yelled. Sam held out his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"I know w-what he is, Dean. A-and, believe me, I thought the same things you are now and I swear it was over the phone a-and all he did w-was tell me things. But-" Sam hissed through his teeth and tugged at his hair, seemingly at war with himself.

"But what, Sam?"

"I don't know. He- he just-"

"You don't know?!" Dean interrupted accusingly.

"H-He said things, alright! Felix told me things. Things about Marty. A-and they- they made - They just made so much sense! And I hate him just as much as you do and I don't wanna believe him but-" Sam's voice faltered and he shook his head seeming lost.

"What did he tell you?" Castiel pressed, gentle but still firm.

"He told me Martina killed his wife."

***

"Now, Dean? Dean's a little harder," I said as the driver made a sharp left-hand turn. "Dean's not just a hardened killer, though that's mostly what he wants people to see. He wants people to see the machine without a heart so no one will see how horrifically broken he really is." Thinking of what Dean was really like made me laugh and I flicked my gaze at Felix. "And believe me when I say that there's nothing that could fix him by now."

"But there's so much more to him than the killer and the brokenness. Dean's the righteous man who's never known a day away from war. There are so many things he wants so desperately. Dean dreams of walking peacefully along a beach yet he's never even been to one. For all he's never had Dean tries to give it to others. For all the blood and death he's seen he's remarkably full of love. Love is the key, really. Dean Winchester loves more powerfully than anyone I've ever met. If Dean loves someone he'll do anything for them.

"He sees my age and sees in me the child he never was. He sees me afraid and wants to provide me the protection no one gave him. He sees me flinch when someone yells and wants to offer me the security he never knew. He sees an orphan and wants to give me the parental love he never had. All one has to do to fool Dean Winchester is give him a child to love.

"So, I made him love me."

***

"And you believed him?" Dean scoffed. "Marty is a kid, Sam! She's a kid! Just a scared kid who needs our protection! Marty never could have done something like that."

"Why not?" Cas spoke up. All eyes snapped to the angel.

"BECAUSE SHE'S A KID!" Dean roared. Jack flinched away from him, he'd always hated when Dean yelled. It scared him. Though, this time Dean sounded less angry and more desperate. As if there was something he didn't want to believe. As if yelling the words would make them true.

"T-that's what I thought too. But what if we're wrong?" Sam asked.

"How could we be wrong?" Dean demanded.

"What if Marty's not a kid?" Sam carefully spoke, "What if she's not human?"

Dean shook his head. "No," He said, "No, you're wrong. I know what you're thinkin' and you're wrong." Jack shook his head too. There was no way... was there? Something itched at the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was. Did he want to?

"Dean, I know this is hard to accept, but we need to think this through," Sam said, holding his hands out beseechingly.

"We don't have time for that!" Jack spoke up. "Felix is going to kill Marty! We can't just let her die!"

Sam held up a hand. "He's not gonna kill her, not for a while. We have time."

"No, you don't get it! I promised I'd save her!" Jack said.

"Exactly!" Sam pointed out. "Jack, that's exactly what she wants! She's been planning this the whole time."

"What do you mean 'the whole time'?" Dean inquired, crossing his arms.

"Think back to the beginning, w-when we first met Marty," Sam said, walking them through it. "Why were we in Copper Harbor?"

"For a ghost hunt," Jack answered, impatience leaking through his tone.

"You're right, but there was another case there. What was it?"

"Blood was being stolen from the hospital..." Cas said slowly as if remembering.

"Exactly! Exactly." Sam took a breath. "Now, that ghost in the viral video, who was it? Was it whoever's bones we burned?"

"No, it was..." Jack made the connection. Why hadn't he noticed that before? "It was Isaac."

"Okay, so that means..." He trailed off.

"That Marty was lying about the hunt and the bones," Cas finished.

"Right, now why would she do that?"

"I dunno, professor. Maybe so we wouldn't torch her brother?" Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam pursed his lips, sighing. "Well, yes, b-but no! This isn't about Isaac, this is about Marty. What would she have been hiding?"

"The blood theft," Cas said decisively. Dean shook his head.

"That's a coincidence. Marty can't be - She can't-" He couldn't even say it. He could hardly think it. "Marty can't be a vampire."

***

"Castiel was harder," I continued. "Aside from the fact that he's a multi-billion-year-old cosmic being, Castiel also lacks a soul. That made tapping into his emotions significantly more difficult, but once I did that it was quite clear that I could never fool him. At least, not directly. He's intelligent, not easily deceived, and he always tries to do what he thinks is best. Whatever that course of action might be, more often than not, it hasn't been the right one.

"Castiel is, primarily, a screw-up. There's a lot of history and even more drama involving his fellow angels and the Winchesters, and he has consistently attempted to fight for both sides of the war between them. His torn loyalties have caused a great many more problems than they've fixed and it seems as though any attempt to fix one of said problems breeds yet more chaos. Castiel is rebellious. He can never seem to do what he's supposed to. So, naturally, that makes him the most dangerous piece on the board.

"When Castiel sets his mind on something, there isn't much that can sway him. His actions have proven, repeatedly I might add, that he is even willing to go behind the backs of the Winchesters if he believes it's for the greater good. But his destructive pattern stops only for the one person he's never betrayed. Thus, to fool Castiel one has to fool his son.

"So, I got my hands on Jack."

***

"Why not?" Cas snapped.

"'Cause she just can't!" Dean's voice broke.

"She single-handedly killed five vampires, Dean! Remember?" Cas pressed. "There's no way a mere child her age could have done that."

Jack shook his head, refusing to believe it. "Marty can't be a vampire. Dad, she just can't be."

Castiel sighed, his eyes soft. "I know you want to believe that."

"Why shouldn't we?" Dean challenged.

"Because she killed five vampires single handedly! What part of that escapes your understanding?!" Cas repeated with frustration.

"We don't know what happened in there!" Dean persisted.

"Exactly! WE DON'T KNOW!" Cas yelled.

"THEN WE CAN'T ACCUSE, CAN WE?" Dean shouted back. Jack flinched again and Cas took notice, forcibly relaxing his posture in hopes of reassuring his son.

Sam groaned. "Look at the facts, Dean. The research!"

"Damn the research, Sammy! This is Marty! We know her!"

"We know she's an empath!" Sam spat. "She's been playing with all our emotions, we know that! We need to look at this objectively and, as hard as that might be, it means looking at the facts!"

"What about the facts?" Dean asked reluctantly.

"Think about it," The younger brother said. "W-we did the research, remember? Remember how none of it lined up?"

"Yeah, because Felix messed with it!" Dean tried.

"Not all of it," Sam pointed out, "Marty said she was nine when she died, but her youngest brother was ten. Remember that? How could she have been younger than her youngest sibling?"

"Sam, that-"

"Because she wasn't, Dean," He hissed, "She wasn't nine. Marty was sixteen."

"I-I remember..." Dean froze, his eyes flicking up to meet his brother. "Sammy..." He said, his voice tense and shaking, "How did I forget that?"

Dread coated Castiel's tone as he answered instead.

"I think she wanted us to."

***

"Jack is a very special boy," I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. "Although, he is the offspring of a fallen archangel, so I'd assume that 'special' comes rather naturally. Thanks for that clue, by the way. It would have taken me much longer to figure him out if it wasn't for that itty bitty little detail."

"You would have gotten it regardless." Felix shrugged.

"Of course I would've!" I snorted, shaking my head. "I didn't think my abilities were of any question."

"They weren't," Felix replied. "I know what you're capable of, lassie."

I smirked devilishly. "You should." Felix's hand clenched into a fist and he sent me a tight smile.

"Indeed." He forced the word through his teeth. "Which is why I'm surprised you enlisted to lie to that boy so completely. Doesn't that violate whatever moral code of Donoghue's it is that you've adopted?" I nodded and shrugged with a sigh.

"You're right, it does. Jack is in many senses young and vulnerable and on top of that, he's dreadfully naïve. He could never deserve what I did to him." I huffed out a humorless laugh as my face twisted into a sneer. "But you do. So I made an exception."

Felix shook his head as if disappointed. "Now, now, Martina. When one has a goal, one does not make exceptions. Lest they desire to fail, of course. Only hypocrites make exceptions. Did I teach you nothing?"

"I'm not like you," I spat.

"Is that what it looks like from where you sit?" He mused quietly. I flashed him a barred toothed grin and continued.

"There's only one that Jack Kline truly wants in this world. He wants to be good - to prove to himself and those around him that despite his parentage, he can be good. He's been told that there's something wrong with him, so he wants to find a way to somehow purge it. But he can't because there's nothing wrong and there never was. Yet, he can't believe that. So it leaves him with an insatiable desire to please.

"It's pathetic, really. He seeks validation in everything. He thinks he has to be useful to be loved. Otherwise, he's just a burden, one that nobody wanted. Jack doesn't want to believe that; he wants to be told that isn't true. Jack Kline may be powerful but he's also soft - moldable if you will. See, he's so haplessly needy that it's honestly sickening. He'll do anything for you to tell him what he wants to hear. And he'll do anything to keep hearing it.

"Jack is a combination of his three guardians. He's desperate. Like Dean, he doesn't want to see what's right in front of him. But he's not stupid. I had to erase his memory more than once. Then, like Sam, I simply distracted him and, much like Castiel, I had to keep him in line by appealing to that insatiable need of his. To fool Jack Kline one has to give him someone to save.

"He thinks he's saving me." I smiled fondly when I'd finished, glancing up at Felix with a challenge in my gaze.

"Well, we both know that's impossible," He said, eyeing me with a smirk, "There's nothing left in that cold shell of yours worth saving." I grinned, showing him the insane thing he'd created.

"You're damn right."

***

Then, like a memory, there were words running through Jack's head. Words and voices, but he didn't remember hearing them.

'You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!' That was his voice in his ears. But Jack couldn't remember saying those words. 'You haven't aged a day... Five years and you haven't aged a day.'

'I aged about a month, actually.'

The other voice was Marty. The words buzzed like static, making his headache. Jack shook his head. It was like Deja Vue but entirely more vivid. Sam, Dean, and Cas kept talking. It was hard to hear them through the ringing in his ears.

"Cas, are you saying she can wipe memories?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Castiel replied, shaking his head. "But she can certainly suppress them."

"But it-it must only work when she's around b-because when she's gone - I know for me - When Marty's not around I-I start to remember," Sam said.

The ringing in Jack's ears intensified, making him groan and grasp at his head. He clamped his hands over his ears but the ringing only grew louder. It was like angel radio, but instead of being surrounded by fire, Jack felt like he was burning from the inside out.

"Jack?" Cas was calling his name. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't- I-" Jack gasped, the pain growing stronger. "It hurts! Dad, please make it stop!"

"Jack? JACK!"

He stumbled into Cas's arms as another blurred memory hit him like a train.

'I'm gonna need you to forget that,' Marty's voice whispered in his head. She sounded so gentle, so inviting. She sounded like a spider.

'I wish I could,' His own voice shook as Jack listened to himself say words he couldn't remember speaking. It felt like a memory that didn't belong to him.

There was more to it this time. There was a picture frame, but the picture inside was out of focus. There was an image. It was Martina. She had fangs. And there was something else too. Jack could feel it like a phantom pain. It was terror. The paralyzing kind. The feeling of being trapped. Jack felt the shadow of limbs and he couldn't move. He was trapped. Jack couldn't get out. He was trapped like a fly in a web. Marty was the spider. He couldn't get away. He couldn't get away from her.

She wouldn't let him.

'I can make you forget,' She was going to hurt him. ' Take us back to the night we met. '

'What do you mean?' His voice asked cautiously. He was scared. He was so scared. He couldn't get out.

'I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was.'

'You're a monster.' He'd said

The ringing in Jack's ears faded and he bolted upright, gasping and shaking as panic set in. He needed to tell Sam, Dean, and Castiel what he'd remembered but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"S-She lied." That was all he could force out.

"Jack, what happened? Are you okay?" Castiel worried, checking over him. Jack just shook his head.

"She did something to me," He choked out, shaking. "I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember? She did something to me!" He felt sick. There was something wrong with him.

No.

There was something wrong with Marty.

She was sick.

"What? What did she do?" Dean demanded, eyes wide.

"She-She made me forget. I knew. I-I knew and she made me forget!"

"Forget what?" Sam asked.

"I figured her out a-and she made me forget but I remembered." Jack stopped and only then did he realize he was crying. "She's one of them."

Because she had betrayed him. Marty had betrayed all of them. Jack didn't even know what to believe anymore. Had any of it been real? Or was it all some twisted lie?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Cas offered quietly.

"You were right, Sam," Jack whispered. He couldn't stop his voice from shattering. "Martina is a monster. A-And she lied."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Dean spoke up. Because someone had to take the lead and it was always him. It wasn't fair, but it was always him.

"We gotta go," He said, struggling to make his voice sound cold and firm. But he'd lost a daughter today.

"W-Where?" Sam asked.

"Me and Cas know where Felix is taking Marty. That kid's got some answering to do," Dean answered, his green eyes darkening with his tone. Castiel stood, helping Jack climb to his feet.

"Martina is dangerous, Dean. Are you sure you're willing to do what may be necessary?" Cas asked, watching Dean with a somber expression.

"It's not gonna come to that," Dean said.

"And if it does?"

"I will." Jack's voice was quiet but it caught the adult's attention.

"Jack, are you- Are you really sure?" Cas asked gently. Jack shook his head.

"I don't want to kill Martina. But you're right, she is dangerous." His voice faltered. "I can't let her hurt anybody else."

***

Felix's limo pulled into the garage of what was easily a multi-million dollar home. It was four stories and it reminded me of a castle with its dull grey stone and tall windows. The interior of the garage was constructed simply of polished cement and was entirely empty aside from the car now parked within it. I sent Felix a smirk and climbed from the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind me. The car was surrounded. Twenty or so of Felix's vamps stood guard but I knew they were more for display than anything else. Some of them I recognized, some I didn't.

"And here I thought this little girl's night was just gonna be you and me," I huffed dramatically upon seeing them, "You had me feeling all special."

"Sorry to disappoint, Lassie," Felix drawled. "But don't worry, I invited some of your friends too. Well, just one to be exact."

I shot him a curious glance but shrugged before sauntering my way past Felix's lackeys like I owned the place. I supposed I had, but that was so long ago. Were his minions really still so afraid of me? I surveyed one of the vamps as I passed him, taking notice of the bead of sweat dripping down his neck. He was clearly terrified.

So, they remembered who their queen was. Good.

Spinning on my toe like a ballerina, I let a bubbling laugh escape my throat. All of Felix's soldiers turned to face me, watching with careful eyes.

"Hello, Lovelies!" I called, grinning. A few of them shifted nervously. "Just thought you all should know, both your beloved Prince and Princess are dead! I killed them!" Murmurs spread around the empty garage, echoing off the polished grey walls. "That's right! Boyd's head I ripped off with a tractor, though I'm sure your leader was glad to finally be rid of his bastard son." I glanced at Felix who stood there stoically and winked. "I knew about that, by the way. As for Elwyn, I had the Devil's son snap her into dust like Peter Parker in Infinity War. 'Cept she ain't comin' back!" I giggled in reaction to the horrified expressions of Felix's soldiers and send the man himself a smirk before whipping around again.

"Ye know, Martina?" His voice made me pause though I kept my back to him. "I look at you and I don't see anyone looking back..." He trailed off, his tone thoughtful. "Where is that soul you used to have?"

"Just like I told your daughter, I lost it in the woods in favor of something else. You wanted me to learn something and I learned it!" I eyed him over my shoulder. "You never should have sent me there."

"I know that now." Felix sounded almost solemn. "Whatever Sampson brought back with him wasn't the girl I tossed in, was it?"

I shrugged. "That's where you're wrong. It's still me. Like I said, I just learned something over there is all."

"And what did you learn?" He wondered.

"That you were wrong."

"It doesn't seem I was," He said. I chuckled softly.

"You said I was made to be a queen. You were wrong."

"Aye?"

"I'm not a queen, Monroe." I turned to face him. "I'm a damn Empress." I grinned. "And, honey, you should see me in your crown."

I didn't bother to watch his expression. I just turned and walked.

Pushing my way through the garage door, I skipped down a long, dark hallway decorated with dark wooden pieces that I was sure had cost more money than they were worth. I smirked upon hearing Felix's footsteps trailing behind me. Whirling around and walking backward, I grinned at my former torturer.

"Got anything you didn't wanna say in front of your minions?" I taunted.

"I do, actually." He huffed a laugh that held no humor. "For the record, I'm sorry."

My expression soured. "No you're not."

"I am, truly." He placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "I apologize for my greed and my stupidity. I unleashed you upon this world; that will be my greatest regret, I think. I made you into a plague and I lost control over you."

"You never controlled me," I hissed.

"And I the second I realized that I should have put you down," Felix said. "I just hope the Winchester's don't make the same mistake."

I shook my head. "That's the think, Felix. They will."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll find out, won't I? So! Where's this friend of mine?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Two doors down on your right," Felix answered. I glanced at the door he was referring to then back to him.

"Ooh, goodie. Before I open it, why do I get a present?"

Felix shrugged. "Call it a joke."

I nodded. "Dope."

Then I skipped over to the dark wooden door and grasped the handle. It wasn't locked, of course, so I pulled it open. I didn't look for traps. I knew Felix would never stoop that low. The room was pitch black and there were no windows, but I found the light switch easily enough. Bright fluorescent bulbs flicked on and washed the space with light.

Sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, was a rather muscular man. His arms and legs were tied to the chair and his head was tilted down. I may not have been able to see his face, but I would have recognized that old, grungy cap almost anywhere. I crossed the space between us and tapped him on the shoulder. The man inclined his head, squinting against the light, but when he caught a glance of my face, his usually bright eyes filled with terror.

I had forgotten how fun it was to instill that level of fear. I smirked.

"Hey there, Benny! I haven't seen you since the Hunger Games!"

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

Lyrics from: Blood In The Water by grandson

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXXIX

It was a love story from the very beginning

"You, me... And Sam."

Hello my friends!!! How are you? I feel much better now thanks to all your asks and your memes and your cracks, I adore them all!

Okay, putting that to a side, and still dreaming about how Jensen will give us the ending we all deserve, let's continue with this analysis, because is time to talk about the mixtape.

From butterflies in the stomach and Foreshadows of the new God

When the episode starts, there's a hint of what Jack's mission is. But coming out from Dagon's mouth, it became like a real bad future.

Dagon: Yeah. And he's not gonna stop there. Every sad, weak human, every tight-ass angel, every sniveling demon they'll all be consumed. So go ahead. Play your games. But whether you're healthy or sick, filthy or clean, He will be born. Good times.

Is almost the contrary to what Jack will actually do for the world. He will consume but it will be Chuck's powers until the last drop of it. And against Dagon's speech, he will save each demon and angel and restore everything.

Now, let's talk about CAS coming back to the bunker...

Gif credit @godshipsit

I think his face is saying everything here. The one entering in the bunker after go MIA, was Cas', so, Dean's face is scandalous.

Imagine that suddenly your disappeared crush enters through the door without previous announcement. Of cour we can read the bumping heart allnover Dean's cheek, his eyes went wide, in surprise. 'Is CAS!'

He was so worried this whole time, thinking the worst could happen to him, and now CAS is there, alive.

But his reaction to it will be completely different to Sam's reaction. This was settled to make us see the difference between how a friend would react and how a lover would react. Blatant.

Sam: Hey. You're all right. Um – Where have you been?

Sam is asking as a friend, but Dean, Dean doesn't...

Dean: Let me rephrase that for Sam. Where the hell have you been? And why have you ignored our phone calls?

Okay, let's just stop here, this is the way a wife will ask her husband. But because we are talking about Dean, we can see his shield. His shield is US/WE, his shield is SAM, because he wants to drag his brother into the feeling of being desperately worried. Because recognize that DEAN WAS THE ONLY ONE ALMOAT LOOSING HIS HEAD TRYING TO KNOW IF CAS WAS ALIVE OR WHWRE HE WAS IA SHOWING WEAKNESS, IS SHOWING HIS TRUE FEELINGS FOR THE ANGEL. So, the theme of the I/ME vs the WE/US is perfectly written all over this episode.

Castiel: Where I was, the – the reception was, uh, poor.

Dean: No bars? No bars. That's his excuse. Wow.

Castiel: I was in Heaven. I was working with the angels. When I saw Dagon had captured Kelly, I-I thought they could help.

Okay Castiel is proving he is lying by himself here, because he said first he had not signal, and now, he heard one of the so many voice mails Dean had left in his phone.

Sam: And?

Castiel: Nothing.

Sam: Well, at least you're back. We're glad you're back

And be prepared again for the difference between the friend and the JILTED lover.

Dean: Really? No, I'm sorry. Okay, 'cause while you were striking out in Heaven, we had a shot at Dagon, and we lost.

Maybe Dean was waiting Sam to second him in his anger. But it was only in Dean's heart, the deception, and the recalling of so many days be worried about CAS. Because that's what romantic love makes you be.

Castiel: I know. I received your messages.

This was like a bomb for Dean...

Dean: Oh, you did – you did receive the messages? Okay, that's good.

Sarcasm...

Castiel: Dean.

Gif credit @starlightcastiel

Dean can't handle the pain in his heart of being rejected and ignored by Castiel, so he searches for his shield again: We/Us/Sam and me.

Dean: So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us? That's great. 'Cause we really could've used the backup. But, uh, you were too busy with, um (Clicks tongue) What was it? Nothing?

Castiel: Dean, I –

Dean: What the hell is wrong with you, man? You know, whatever. That's (Chuckles) Yeah. Welcome back. (walks away)

Dean is so mad with CAS. And is blatant that his reaction is totally different to Sam's.

The Mixtape as a way to reciprocate Castiel's confession, and the desperate attempt to make CAS to stay by his side.

Okay, we are now in the scene. I'm sure this scene had been dissected by many meta writers. I won't say new things, but i will point a little to their body languages.

Okay, the scene starts with Castiel knocking at Dean's door to give him back the mixtape, so jus aknowledged there that Dean gave CAS a freaking mixtape, which doesn't have another meaning that ROMANTIC. But we can assume Castiel doesn't get this human's customaries, also, we can assume he does, because boop culture that Metatron out at once in his head... So...

After Dean, without looking at him, because he is mad and now he has to handle this angel lack of knowledge about WHAT GIFTING A MIXTAPE MEANS, he said "It's a gift, you keep those."

And Castiel gets nervous.

Gif credit @stardustcas

The swallow and the way he opens his mouth again to breathe and maybe to say something else, but he stopped himself. Castiel is nervous. I thought at first because he has to find the Colt, and he knew Dean kept it in his room. But we know now that it wasn't just that. He was flustered because the intimacy of the situation with the man he loves.

Castiel looks around before attempting to leave, maybe searching for the Colt, but then Dean starts talking:

Dean: Cas, you can't – With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.

And in the middle of the intimate scene, awkward moment, Dean needs his shield more than never.

Castiel: Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. And I just wanted I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.

This speech is so important, because it shows how depressed Castiel felt, how uneasy. How unworthy. He needed to be useful. So he decided to start alone this dangerous journey that will end in his death. He also mentions the win. Because he didn't know he will be always Dean's win, as we will see in episode 13x06 when CAS comes back to Dean alive.

After they talk about Dragon, and Cas' asks if Sam and Dean are willing to kill an innocent, because that's dirty work, that's the mission CAS had taken in his own shoulders, Dean says this...

Dean: We will find a better way.

Castiel: You mean, we?

Gif set credit @deanwinchestrs

Cas points at Dean with the mixtape, because he wants to clarify if Dean is referring to them, to JUST CAS AND DEAN. YOU AND ME. THE TWO OF US. And Dean is now the flustered one. Look at Dean's face, being in just one spot, recognizing that the shield can be broken, that he is talking about CAS and him. Is too intimate. Too different. So his face is burning. And even so, the words are out. 'Yes, dumbass, we.'

What was this? This was an attempt coming from Castiel to get to know Dean's feelings. Pointing with the mixtape to just Dean and him. Not Sam here. Not shield. And Dean goes for it. Goes for that WE: YOU AND ME.

But then, Dean backtraks

Gif set credit @stardustcas

He starts explaining the WE, avoiding Castiel's gaze, he goes... 'You, me...' and then he tilts his head, and adds the shield back again: 'and Sam.'

The second gif is showing Dean backtracking, Because is too intimate, is too risky, he is standing on the edge between friendship and something else. He can't cross that line. Mostly because he is not sure about Castiel's feelings for him, and more now, after seeing how CAS ignored him for so long. Dean is like:

"What am I doing? Let's mention Sam here, and turn this into no homo conversation."

But the nervousness is all over the scene, i got nervous watching it because the awkward moment!

Gif set credit @stardustcas

More nervousness. Dean's flustered eyes. The swallowing. The attempt of staring into those blue eyes of the man he loves. (The butterflies in the stomach, the heart beating fast, the dry mouth) trying to make the conversation more normal, but their faces are loud.

Vas says he likes that and then Dean is more frustrated than never and his dry mouth is asking for a beer, or maybe he find a way out from the awkward moment, the gay moment. He needs to breathe. He almost let his guard down with this angel. And the desperate way to say STAY WITH ME. DON'T GO AWAY AGAIN. To his angel.

Castiel engages with a seductive look in the middle of the sexual tension

Sam: I mean, how did Cass even get the Colt out of the safe in the first place?

Dean drops his head. Sam raises an eyebrow

Sam Dean, you – you put the Colt back in the safe, right? Dean?

Dean: It was under my pillow. It – I like to keep it close. (Sighs) He came into my room and he played me.

Okay i can even explain the intimacy of this. Even if CAS didn't know about this and he just went searching all over Dean's room. Mention this after the huge scene full of romantic tension, has a meaning. Again: INTIMACY. And adding the "He played me" to all of this is another symbol way to show theme audience this was like that scene between the guy and his crush, in wich his crush takes advantage of it and plays him by stealing something from him. Yes.

Finally, when they find CAS... This scene...

Gif credit @stardustcas

Dean is mad, very mad at him. Because Castiel really played him. But... Look at the scene. Look at Castiel's gaze: PURE SEDUCTION. He maybe is aware of the effect he causes on Dean. And after the mixtape scene, he goes for it. Seduction as if they were in their first seasons together. And Dean is muted, and stares at him, then checks him out, and they're in their own sexual tension world, until Sam calls him. But he has to calls him twice because his brother is too embedded into Castiel's hot behavior.

But don't forget Dean is mad at him. So now, is Dean the one playing around with CAS. Throwing the keys at him and making him almost loose his stability to reach them.

Closing the circle

When Dean and Sam reach Castiel again in the middle of a battle with Dragon, Dean's desperation when Dagon is about to smite Castiel is high level.

But then Jack saves the day, not just showing CAS the future (the ending of season 15) but also, Jack gave him powers to finish Dagon.

Then, the scene in wich Castiel heals Dean is full of intimacy again. The lingerie touch, rubbing fingers. Because Dean is moving his hand slowly away from CAS touch but he ended by letting his hand to feel Castiel's rubbing his fingers. To let Castiel to heal him.

And then, CAS is gone again.

To Conclude:

12x19: The Future has Destiel all over it. Dean mad at him, reaching the level of a JILTED lover. Dean way to protect himself from another rejection using the WE/US/SAM shield. Just because he can't handle it. The doubts about Cas' feelings, and the way the angel always find to go MIA, makes his heart stutter.

The mixtape scene is one of the most emblematic. The nervousness is all over their faces, and Misha and Jensen transmite perfectly the romantic tension between the two characters and goes straight to our hearts, making us feel awkward and flustered too.

Hope you like this meta. See you in the next one!

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

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

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996

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

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 12, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX, LXXIX, LXXX, LXXXI, LXXXII, LXXXIII, LXXXIV, LXXXV, LXXXVI, LXXXVII, LXXXVIII.

Buenos Aires, November 24th 2020, 9:36 PM

[irrlicht-writes]

the path we choose to walk on pt.3

Part 3! still not the last part. But I’m getting close! Note to mention: there is death here. But it’s not permanent. Okay? It gets worse before it gets better. @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @cass-said-i-love-you @professorerudite @insertdeeplyrics anyone else want on the tag list?

PART ONE | PART TWO

Ao3

PART 3: a soul as gentle as a star

Dean is sobbing. He can’t stop. Cas has been sick for a whole week already and still, Jack has not shown up. Dean had to shoo Miracle out of the room because he’s afraid that she’s going to get sick too.

Dean doesn’t know what to do. There’s a fever running through Castiel and no matter what Dean does, it won’t go down. The few times that Cas is awake, he’s puking up his guts over the toilet – all black goo and Dean’s heart breaks. Cas is crying before he passes out again and Dean can’t help. Cas is losing weight and it’s hard to even get him to drink water. Jack doesn’t come.

He pets Castiel’s hair and whispers sweet nothings into his ear. Cas never responds and Dean cries in his damp hair. What’s he supposed to do? He can barely eat food himself. The only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is Miracle because she’ll remind him of feeding her and walking her and honestly, Dean is glad for the temporary distraction she provides.

“Cas,” he says and Cas whimpers.

“Cas, baby, please come back to me.”

His fever goes up.

 A month later, it’s not better. Dean only functions whenever Miracle forces him to. It’s been a while since Cas woke up to puke. Dean tries not to dwell on it. He spends his days laying in bed next to Cas, staring at a wall in silence. The only sound is Cas’ shallow breathing and Dean doesn’t know what to do.

He hasn’t really gotten Cas back and now he’s about to lose him again.

Why has Jack not shown up?

Doesn’t he care about them anymore?

He’s always said that he considered Cas to be his father, but does he just stop caring like that?

“Jack,” Dean whispers into the void, “please.”

Nobody answers him.

Castiel’s chest rattles.

 A week later, Sam shows up. Dean has been trying to pretend that everything was going fine, just to avoid Sam coming here. Maybe he shouldn’t have given his brother a key.

“Dean,” Sam says sternly and Dean can barely lift his head. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s eaten something. He hopes he didn’t neglect Miracle too much.

“He’s sick, Sammy,” he rasps and Sam’s expression softens. He walks over to the bed and feels Cas’ temperature.

“Dean,” he says, “we have to bring him to a hospital.”

Dean shakes his head. “He’s an angel.”

“He needs help.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Dean’s afraid that they will understand that Cas isn’t human and take him away. They’ll take him away and Dean will never get to see him again and they’re going to conduct experiments on him and Cas won’t understand and he’ll be in pain and Dean wouldn’t be able to save him because he can’t overthrow the government and Cas will think that Dean gave him to these people and he’ll resent Dean and wish him the worst and wish he’d never pull Dean out of hell –

“Dean, breathe.”

Dean sobs loudly and starts to cry. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Please, let me take care of you. Of both of you.”

Dean sobs and doesn’t argue. He can’t. He can’t do it anymore. If he loses Cas again, then – then...

Who knows what he’ll do.

*

“Your friend doesn’t have long.”

Dean barely understands the doctor. Castiel is filled up with that black goo stuff – his lungs, his stomach, everything. Jack still doesn’t show. Cas is dying, again, and Jack doesn’t care. It’s almost like there’s no change at all.

If Jack doesn’t even want to save his father, what good is he?

They give Cas an infusion. Sam asks if Dean can get one too but he refuses. He’s fine. He doesn’t need any help. He just wants to sit here, next to Cas and be with him until the very end. Just like last time. Dean reaches for Cas’ hand and holds it loosely in his own.

“I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here.”

It’s empty. These words mean nothing. Dean hangs his head.

In the end, it didn’t matter.

 Two days later, Castiel dies.

 *

 Dean has pamphlets. They gave him pamphlets but he hasn’t looked at them. He sits on his bed and stares out of the window. Sam has Miracle. Dean told him to take her. Castiel is in the morgue.

Why did this happen?

Why didn’t Jack come?

Dean prayed to him every waking second.

Why did Jack ignore him? Hands off or not – this is his father.

Dean doesn’t understand.

It makes no sense.

Maybe this is a dream. A terrible, terrible nightmare and Dean just has to find a way to wake up.

He remembers the nightmare djinns. It must be like that, right? Everything is just a dream and he just has to wake up.

Die.

He has to die to wake up.

And when he does, Cas’ll be there and he’ll be worried and hug him and Dean’ll hug him back and everything will be okay again.

Cas won’t be dead, then.

Dean gets up from the bed.

He walks over to the window and opens it. He bends forward and looks down. It would be quite the fall. But it’s going to be worth it. Down there, Cas will be waiting for him. If he imagines hard enough, then he can almost see Cas standing down there with open arms.

Dean smiles.

He’s safe.

His angel will catch him.

His angel will always catch him.

Dean closes his eyes.

His hands are shaking.

“Cas,” he whispers.

No matter what, at the end Cas will be there.

“Dean,” someone says and stops him.

He turns around.

“Jack.”

 *

 Dean steps away from the window and he can only stare. Jack is here. Why is Jack here now, when it’s pointless?

“I’m sorry,” Jack starts and Dean swallows down his anger. He wants to yell, he wants to scream and he wants to grab this kid and shake him. But he doesn’t. At least the kid looks guilty.

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” His voice is hoarse and Dean’s glad he didn’t yell. His voice would’ve given out.

“I heard you, I did, I swear. But Dean, I can’t fix the Empty. So I tried, I looked how to help Cas. I care about him, Dean, he’s my father. But I didn’t want to come here without a solution. If I would’ve come and would’ve said I can’t do anything, you would’ve lost hope immediately. I’m – I’m sorry that I’m late. But we can fix this, Dean. Look.”

Jack is holding something in his hands. He opens them somewhat so that Dean can take a peek. It’s glowing and Dean doesn’t know what it is.

“It’s a soul,” Jack says, “well, at least as much as I can make.”

Dean frowns.

“It will help Cas to battle the goo inside of him. The Empty has no dominion over souls, you know?”

Dean shakes his head. “Jack, he’s dead.”

Jack clenches his jaw. “And that’s why we save him.”

Dean looks at Jack’s hands. A soul. He doesn’t know what that means for Cas but if Jack is so sure it’ll save him... why shouldn’t they try?

It’s not like Cas could get anymore dead.

So he nods.

“Let’s go, then.”

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy to break into the morgue. Apparently they don’t really guard their dead and well – your kid being God probably helps too. Dean gets an uneasy feeling in this place. Cas is in one of these, dead. His hands start shaking again. But he has to pull through. For Cas.

For Cas.

With shaky legs, Dean walks over to the one that says “Castiel Winchester” on it and opens it. He takes a deep breath and pulls the gurney out. He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to look. He doesn’t want to see Cas all pale; all dead. He doesn’t think he could take it.

“Dean,” Jack says and Dean’s eyes snap to him. He’s holding out his hands.

“It’s got to be you,” he says and on auto-pilot, Dean reaches out and takes this soul Jack is offering him. It feels warm in his hands. It feels a little bit like a baby bird.

“Cas,” he says and he feels as if the soul in his end flickers. “Come back to me.”

He holds his hands over Castiel’s chest, looking at Jack who nods. Dean nods back and presses the soul inside.

 First, nothing happens and Dean wants to panic. He looks at Jack who’s frowning.

No no no no no no no this isn’t good. It’s not working, it’s not working –

Castiel tears his eyes open and he’s gasping for air, heaving dryly. Dean chokes down a sob, but Castiel grabs his own chest as if he’s struggling to breathe and his blue eyes fly to Jack. The kid just shakes his head and takes Castiel’s hand in his own.

“Fight it, Cas. I know you can do this. You’re stronger than it. You’re the only angel in all of existence that ever walked out of the Empty of his own will. Out of his own might. The Empty has no power over you – it never had. Why do you think it hated you so much?

It was afraid of you, Cas, because it knew only you could ever walk away from a confrontation. You’re the angel that defied and defied and defied again. The Empty can’t hold you. It never could. You were awake, and you found your own way out. Do you even know how much power that takes? How much will? And you did it.

You did this, with no help, no assistance, and you survived. The Empty followed you outside and you overpowered it. It tried to drag you down, again and again, but you kept fighting and you kept winning. I can only ever hope to be as strong as you, Cas.

You are Free Will. You’ve always been. Without you – without you, Chuck would’ve determined the ending. But he didn’t. Because you made us believe that we can choose our own path. That we can choose who we want to be.

You’re stronger than the Empty, Cas. It cannot defeat you.

You loved me, you believed in me, you supported me when I didn’t deserve it. You explained the world to me; and you made me see that it’s worth loving. The way you’d talk about a roadside flower and what a miracle it is, I – I saw the little things. I saw the things that make the world what it is. It’s not about the big battles, the big wins or even the big losses – it’s about the things you never appreciate. The roadside flower, the leaves on the trees or the rustling of the wind.

And with – with everything you said, I realised – I realised that you thought... that you believed you were lesser than these things. That the dirt on the ground deserved better than you. You praised everything – Sam, Dean, me, the world – but never yourself. You are the guy I look up to most because – because you’re so kind, and caring and full of love. I heard – I heard the birds sing and thought they must be singing about you. I saw flowers bloom and I thought they must be doing this for you.

You are so good, and so kind and I – I will make a world that appreciates you. I will make a world in which you are loved, unconditionally.

I love you, Cas. I’m sorry it took me so long.

The Empty can’t take you away from me. I won’t let it. You crawled your way back here again and again, and I will make sure that you’re rewarded.

You taught me I can choose my own destiny. That I can choose my own path. And you told me that I will forever be loved, no matter what. And you did. No matter what I did, you loved me. You loved me unconditionally, and I never appreciated it. I took it for granted but then I realised – you were never loved like that. You were never – you were never told that you are loved. But I do.

I do, and Sam does, and Dean does and so many more. You, of all people, deserve the world. And I’ll give it to you.

I love you, Cas. I’ll say it now, and I’ll say it a hundred times. You are loved, Castiel, now and forever.

And whatever sins you believe you committed – sins that you believe that cannot be forgiven – I give you absolution.

You are forgiven, Castiel. You were always forgiven.

I love you. I love you so, so much.

I can be God, I am, but... I can’t do it without you. What if I stop looking at the small things? What if I end up like Chuck? I need you, Cas. I need you to remind me of a fallen leaf, of a newborn bird. I need you to remind me of the wonders of the world.

You were always fighting. And most times, the enemy was yourself and nobody of us helped you. You’re stronger than I could ever hope to be.

You’re my father, Cas. Sam and Dean are so, so important to me, but – I’d pick you, every time. Now and forever, I will always pick you.”

 Castiel squeezes Jack’s hand. “All I ever wanted,” he rasps, “is for you to be happy.”

 *

 “He’ll never fully recover,” Jack says after he got them all home. Dean holds Castiel tight to his chest. The angel is asleep but his breath isn’t rattling this time. He looks at Jack, unblinking.

“The soul,” Jack starts, “will help. But Dean, you have to understand that when Castiel made it out of the Empty, he took death with him. It’s not going to let him go. The – the sheer might it must’ve taken him to survive as long as he did, I...”

Jack stops and looks to the ground.

“I could never hope to be as strong as that. But now with the soul, his grace can draw strength from it. But it’s a weak soul. It’s... it’s just an imitation, but it’ll hold. He’ll get better; and in time, he’ll be walking around again.”

Jack turns and looks at them.

“He’s essentially human now, Dean. Not in the sense that he’ll die from old age, but in the terms that he needs to eat and sleep. He’ll probably get sick a lot, but he’ll be fine.”

“The black goo will never go away?”

Jack shakes his head.

“No. But with the soul, his grace is strong enough to keep it in check and keep all the internal organs working. I – I have to go now. But I’ll drop in whenever I can. Say hi to Sam for me and – tell Maria about me, too, okay? I’m excited to meet her someday soon.”

Jack smiles brightly and holds his hand up in a wave. “Bye, Dean,” he says and disappears.

Dean lets out a deep breath and gently places Castiel on the bed. Castiel is breathing quietly and really, Dean should call Sam and tell him but he’s just so tired.

When he crawls into bed next to Cas, he thinks about the people at the hospital. He forgot to ask Jack to remove their memories. It would work out, though, right? Cas is alive and he’s home and now he’s finally gonna get better.

Dean snuggles up next to Cas and vows to call Sam tomorrow. They’ll sort it out together. But right now, the only thing that matters is Castiel’s soft breathing and the knowledge that a soul shimmers inside him.

 *

 “I missed this,” Cas says when Dean opens his eyes. He’s been awake for a while at this point, but he had wanted to enjoy Castiel playing with his hair. It feels nice.

“You never played with my hair before,” Dean replies.

“No, but I missed watching you sleep. It’s very calming.”

Castiel’s voice sounds tired, but it doesn’t seem to pain him like it did before. Dean is glad. Now everything would work out. And even if Cas would be bedridden for the rest of Dean’s life, then that is okay too.

“You can watch me sleep forever then.”

Castiel laughs a bit but he ends in some light coughing.

“This goo,” Dean wonders, “will you really never be rid of it?”

Cas sighs. “No. I figure being in Heaven would help me. I might be able to get rid of it if I was able to tap into Heaven’s energy reserves, but I don’t want to go there now. The soul Jack made for me is going to suffice until it inevitability runs out.”

“It will run out?”

“Yes. All souls do, eventually, and this one even more so. I figure that after it’s done – it will just disappear. But by this point, decades should’ve passed and I’ll be able to go to Heaven.”

“You can’t go now?”

“Why would I?” Castiel replies while smiling against Dean’s hair. “Last I checked, you’re not in Heaven, and won’t be for a very long time. I’d rather be here with you, then waiting for you in Heaven.”

Damn, now Dean’s blushing.

 Sam’s a bit upset when Dean calls him. He’s wanted to see Jack too, and he’s also worried about the hospital staff. Nobody’s called Dean yet so Dean has hope that Jack made them forget.

“Cas is alive,” Dean says because he thinks that maybe Sam didn’t hear him properly the first time.

“I... yes. You said, I just... I can’t believe it. I didn’t even think... it’s amazing. How... how is he doing? Is he conscious? Can he talk at all?”

“Yeah. Jack said he’s probably gonna be sick for the rest of his life, but he’ll be able to move around again.”

Dean is in his kitchen; and Cas is asleep in the bed. It feels surreal. It feels like someone’s gonna pinch him in the arm and wake him up and then Cas is still gonna be dead and they’re still in the hunting life and then they go on a hunt just for one of them to die.

But that’s not gonna happen.

Their hunting days are finally over.

“Can we come over?”

Dean looks around. Them coming here might be better than hauling Cas into the car. Cas just came back so he might get tired more easily.

“Only if you bring the dog. I don’t think Cas has properly met her yet and that’s a crime.”

Over the line, Sam laughs. “Yes, we’ll bring the dog. We’ll be there in about half an hour. Prepare to hold a crying baby, Dean.”

“Oh, it just feels like yesterday when I was wiping your dirty ass.”

Sam hangs up and Dean grins.

There’s hope for a future in his heart and for the first time, he’s not afraid of it. Things will get better and they’ll start getting better now.

 Cas made it to the couch when Sam and Eileen arrive. As per Sam’s promise, Maria is crying her heart out and Dean feels sorry for Sam. Eileen, God bless her, probably doesn’t hear the crying too much. Dean guesses it’s Sam who gets up in the middle of the night, judging by his face. Dean grins and bends down to greet Miracle. Man, he’s missed her.

“Cas,” Sam says and Cas responds in kind. In the corner of his eye, Dean can see that Cas tries to get up from the couch but decides against it in the last moment.

Eileen walks right over and plops herself and her baby next to him. “Your niece,” she says and Cas smiles at the baby who stopped crying when she spotted Cas.

“Hello, Maria,” Cas says. Maria blinks in his direction and after some thought, reaches out for him.

Cas takes her easily and puts her in his lap.

“Have you been keeping for father up?”

Maria wiggles her arms.

“You know, for all I missed, I’m glad Jack decided to skip the toddler phase. I wonder what happened to all the diapers I bought. My doula classes were very unhelpful with my son but they might come in handy with you, hm?”

Maria smiles brightly and starts whipping in Cas’ lap.

“Hm. I guess I can be Big Blue if you want.” He boops her nose. “But then you have to be Little Cutie.”

Maria blinks at him, then laughs and claps her hands. She turns her head to her mom and brabbles to her and Eileen just smiles.  

“You speak Baby, Cas?” Sam asks and Cas turns his head.

“No. Babies don’t use words like we do; it’s more of a... sense. A feeling if you will. They can’t think in complete sentences yet. It’s along the lines of Sad because hungry. Upset because dirty. Happy because play. Happy because friend. Like that.”

Cas smiles and lifts Maria up and she giggles.

“Guess she found a friend in you, huh?”

“That she did.”

 *

 Dean isn’t surprised when Castiel and Miracle get along splendidly. As soon as the dog warms up to the angel, Dean is permanently degraded to giver of food and honestly, he’s not even mad at that. Miracle keeps Cas company when Dean has to go to work and they even go on walks together – never very far in the beginning because Cas still has to get his legs under him but the important bit is that Miracle makes Cas leave the bed or the couch.

There are days, sometimes more and sometimes less, where Castiel is sad. Dean knows that that word is probably an understatement, but he doesn’t want to call it depression – it’s too big of a word and Dean’s afraid of it.

There are days when Castiel’s body just refuses everything and anything. Cas doesn’t want to see or hear Dean on these days and Dean respects that. He wants to be there, but his presence is upsetting Cas way too much.

Cas isn’t used to being sick and somewhere deep down Dean thinks he remembers. Cas needs to be useful. And on these days, he’s not useful at all. But Dean doesn’t know how to tell Cas that it’s okay. He doesn’t know how to make Cas understand that he doesn’t have to be useful. No words that Dean could come up with seem good enough for him. So he stays silent and he knows it’s not the right thing to do.

Cas gets sick at least one time a month, sometimes more. He’s always sick for at least two days, battling fever and puking up goo. Dean’s terrified every single time.

“I’m fine,” Cas says every time and Dean wants to believe him.

I love you, he wants to tell him but he’s afraid.

He’s not sure what he’s afraid of.

Cas cries at night sometimes and Dean pretends not to hear.

Cas has nightmares sometimes and Dean sleeps on the couch.

He doesn’t understand himself.

“Dean,” Cas says one day just after his bad days ended.

“I know you don’t love me. It’s alright. I’ve accepted that. It doesn’t change what I feel, how I feel. You are – I’ve never met someone like you. There have been others that have fascinated me, but – but I’ve only ever watched them from a distance. I was never inclined to come closer, to get to know them, to have them know me. I was content just watching them from afar, learning about them and studying them from my high perch.

But you –

I wasn’t supposed to get involved. I was supposed to tell you your part in the Apocalypse and then I was – I guess I was supposed to die.  But you were, well, you and it made me rethink. I wondered if you were right, if people could actually choose their own destinies.

And Sam – Sam as the Boyking of Hell, the true vessel of Lucifer, I expected him to be evil, I expected him to be malicious, but he wasn’t. Sam was good and kind and brave and the small spot of darkness was a stain on him, but then he’s only human and it didn’t even matter.

And I saw that I was wrong and I thought – I thought maybe Dean is right. Maybe this is a story we can choose for ourselves.

Maybe this could be a story that doesn’t end with humanity wiped out. Maybe this is a story that ends differently as it was foretold. I wanted to believe. I wanted to have faith in what you said and – and so I did.

I know you never had faith in me, but I had faith in you and – I never really stopped. People getting to choose their own lives, their own destinies, their own ends – it just had never been in the cards. Everything had always served a bigger plan; always aiming to getting closer to the one true end when there was so much more.

I’ve had people believe in me; when in the same breath they defied God himself. You’re here, they’d say, he is not.

And they were right. I was there; and he was not. I always wondered if our path was the right one – after all, who’d stop us if we were wrong? We’d listen to no one but God himself, so who would’ve been able to halt us in our wake? But still, I followed my orders and whenever I saw fit, I’d tweak them, just a little.

I’d let a child go. I’d give an old man a few more minutes to say good-bye. I’d save the mother giving birth. I’d do these things and I got punished for them and I’d falter. What if I did something wrong? What if I altered the big plan? What if the ending would never come as it had been planned? And maybe –

Maybe it didn’t. Maybe the mother I saved changed something. Maybe the old man saying good-bye gave closure to someone. Maybe the child I let go grew up to influence someone they were never meant to meet. Who can tell?

I realised something so small can change the world. Maybe it won’t change the world as a whole but someone’s world will be different.

But the point is: I went against my orders and every time, I got punished for it. And then I met you, and you went against your orders and I couldn’t see you getting punished. And I thought, maybe you had the right path. Maybe wrong decisions get punished and right decisions do not. So I decided to follow you. I decided to follow the path you were carving.

And then you left the path, so I decided to keep walking on it because to me, it was the right path to take. And I was right. Every time I got punished, I knew I was doing the right thing. They were wrong; and I was right.

They wanted to reverse me, they wanted to change me by any means possible but I didn’t let them. Even when they succeeded, I didn’t let them take you away from me. You allowed me to change, Dean, you allowed me to be who I’m really meant to be. And for that –

For that, I’ll forever be grateful. I was right. There was a better way and they were proven wrong. I’m – maybe I’m still defective. Maybe I’ll always be wrong, and broken, and useless. But if that’s who I am, then – then so be it.

I am – I was always ashamed of myself. Why couldn’t I be like the others? Why couldn’t I follow orders like them? Why was I so different? And no matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, I – I was always the outsider. The one that didn’t belong, not really, and –

And when I was with you, that didn’t change. I was still the outsider, I was still different. Not in the same way, sure, but still, I didn’t belong. I’ll never do. I’ll never belong anywhere, because maybe there’s no place for me after all.

But – I wasn’t supposed to be here at all. I was supposed to be dead. I’ve died again and again and I came back, again and again because – because I wasn’t done yet. There’s still more. It made me think that maybe I have a purpose. That I have a reason for living, no matter how small it might be. And I always wanted –

I always wanted to make you feel safe. I always wanted to be the guy you could trust in. I wanted you to call me, I wanted you to need me. I needed you to want me, but maybe you never did and that’s okay.

I’m here now. And once I’m – once I’m better, I’ll be on my way. I’ll find something to do. I’ll find a place where I can be useful but until I’m strong enough for that – maybe it’s okay if I stay a little bit longer?”

There’s something here, Dean knows that. There’s something here he’s supposed to say, some clever line, some heartfelt comment, but – but he doesn’t know.

Dean hears I don’t want to go.

So he says: “I don’t want you to go.”

And maybe that was the right thing to say after all.

[hellhoundsprey]

Fic prompt: Lucifer!Sam/Jack noncon + forced breeding

Right to the point!

Warnings: rape, angelic grace play, mind control, father/son incest, unsafe sex

Tags: /

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The door to his room opens. Someone comes inside. They close the door again.

Jack remains face-down in his bed, his pillow hugged tight against his face. He should sleep. He has to sleep—no more grace. No more powers.

He peers at the person as the mattress dips with their weight—Sam, sitting down.

“Can’t sleep?”

Jack shakes his head.

“Me neither.” Sam smiles. Sam pets Jack’s leg over the blanket. “How you doin’, bud?”

Jack’s brow furrows.

“Weird, isn’t it? No juice. All sluggish. Screw the flu, am I right?”

Jack tenses. “You’re—”

“Shh-shh-shh.” ‘Sam’ puts his finger to his lips. “We don’t wanna wake up Dean-o.”

Jack’s body flashes hot and icy back-to-back; his pulse escalates. His throat ties up and he wants to scream, he does—can’t, too scared, how did, when did…?

Jack’s father curls Sam’s hand into a fist that tugs Jack’s blanket off him. Sam’s eyes watch the flex of Sam’s knuckles with fascination. Reverence.

Sam’s voice mumbles, “Man, I missed you, Sammy,” and Sam’s fist jerks, and Lucifer clasps it again, tight.

‘Sam’ smiles at Jack.

“I tried to be nice, Jack. You know I did.”

Jack’s stomach turns with the drag of Sam’s hand up his bare leg. He manages to scramble away, finally, towards the headboard. Sam follows, easily.

“What, still scared? Even with this pretty face? See, that’s the problem with your generation: you don’t appreciate anything.”

Jack gasps as his ankle gets grabbed and he gets yanked closer to ‘Sam’. Sam is strong. Jack knows that. With his powers, Jack was stronger, of course, but now—they sparred today, again, and Jack is still sore. He didn’t land a single point. He breathes so quickly it doesn’t even reach his lungs.

Jack’s head feels weird. Light and fuzzy.

“No, don’t you faint on me, buddy,” and Lucifer adds, “not yet,” with a smile, and snaps his finger.

Jack’s next inhale is so deep and satisfying his heart instantly slows down. Pumps low, steady, and he is naked. Frozen and on his back, on display—Sam rubs Jack’s thigh, and higher.

Sam scowls as he pinches Jack’s stomach. “At least I know they feed you.” Eyes up to Jack—Sam’s eyes. But nothing about them feels like Sam. “It’s hard, you know? For a dad? To know my kid’s out there, being raised by monkeys? And look what they did. My only son, and of course they screw thatup, too.”

‘Sam’ leans in, climbs fully onto the bed. He’s tall. Jack’s never seen him like—oh, he has. Sparring, helping Jack back up. Smiling, hair in his face, wrinkles around his eyes. Lucifer uses Sam’s face differently. Like there are other muscles for him to utilize.

Sam’s frown—like this, Sam never…he’d never look at Jack like this. Like he is disappointed.

“Still my blood, though. Still mine.” Lucifer drags Sam’s knuckles along Jack’s jaw. Jack is too mellow-heavy-calm to move, to push him away. He sweats, can’t tremble. His feet are cold. (Sam still smellslike Sam. Sounds like Sam.) “It’s okay if you’re just Clark Kent now. Flesh still got its uses, you know?”

Lucifer dents Jack’s bottom lip with Sam’s thumb. His other hand drags up high, cups the side of Jack’s throat—

Jack manages, “No,” but Lucifer kisses his forehead either way. His ear. Pets through his hair.

“Don’t be silly. What else do you think you’re good for in this form? Hey, I’m being nice.” Lucifer pulls back to pout and frown at Jack. “You know what these freaks do when they’re bored and notfornicating? Warfare. Torture. Stupid little humans. The orgies…! Hell, back when there was no internet and no, you know, culture? Nothing else on the TV.” Sam’s hand rubs over Jack’s chest. Sam’s thumb works one of his nipples. Jack’s stomach clenches with the unwanted sensations. Jack’s father talks low. Sweet. Forehead to forehead with Jack, nuzzling. “You would have loved it,” promises Lucifer. “Like father, like son, right?”

Jack tells him, “No,” again, and his whole body locks up in disgust as Lucifer pushes Sam’s mouth onto Jack’s. Sticks Sam’s tongue past Jack’s lips.

“Hey, be nice,” huffs Lucifer, right up against Jack’s mouth. “We’ve got time to make up for, you and I. And I’ve been waiting long enough.”

Lucifer kisses him again. Jack is gonna be sick. His body won’t go through with it, though, like something holds him back, forces him pliant. Archangel grace and Jack is just human, now, no match. Sam’s body, Lucifer’s powers…! Jack’s head spins. His eyes can tear up, at least.

“Awww.” Lucifer wipes the wet from one cheek, licks it off the other. “Hey, shhh. Pretend I’m Sammy. You like him, don’t you? I mean, who doesn’t.” Lucifer scoffs, adoring. Kisses behind Jack’s ear, grabs Jack’s wrist to shove Jack’s hand into the front of Sam’s pajama pants. “Here, buddy, c’mon. Make Daddy feel nice, okay? Daddy hasn’t felt nice in a looong time.”

Jack sobs. Lucifer shushes him, kisses him. Swirls Sam’s tongue against Jack’s and Jack doesn’t reciprocate but his body does, somehow. His hand moves—too. Up and down, firm grip. Sam’s body is warm, here; silken. Lucifer hums against Jack’s throat. Sucks on the skin, there.

“Hmmm. Yeah, Sammy’s been neglecting himself for sure. Look at you,” and more wet kisses down Jack’s throat, across his chest. “We know where you got your good looks from, huh?”

Sam’s penis is getting harder and hotter in Jack’s fist. Swelling, fattening—Jack trembles so hard even Lucifer’s spell can’t fully repress it anymore. Lucifer hums and shoves Sam’s pajamas down, crawls up between Jack’s legs. He keeps kissing and nuzzling Jack, blankets him, buries him—Jack can’t stop moving his hand just like he can’t stop crying.

He tries, “No,” again, weak with the weight of Lucifer’s grace.

“Yes,” hums Lucifer. Sucks at Jack’s tongue. Jack’s lip. “Yes, baby. It’s okay.���

Jack sobs. He can’t shake his head like he wants to. Can’t push Lucifer away like he wants to—his hand rises instead to curl around the back of Sam’s neck, to pull him closer. Lucifer coos, laughs. He rubs Sam’s penis between Jack’s ass cheeks. Sticky, hot—Jack tenses in fear. He doesn’t want—this. Any of this.

“Gonna let me in? Like your mom did?” Lucifer pushes Sam’s hips forward some more. Digs Sam’s penis stiff against Jack’s asshole and it burns, it’s uncomfortable—Jack feels in horror how his insides go wet, how they soften and—Lucifer pushes inside him with the next stroke. “Oh, good boy, Jack. Look at you. Obedient at last.”

Jack can’t speak can’t feel anything but—the pressure, the stretch down below. The heat of Sam’s body in the clutch of both of Jack’s arms, now, wrung tightly around Sam’s neck. Sam’s hair, brushing his cheek. Sam’s voice, groaning—Sam’s body, grinding against Jack’s.

This isn’t happening. It’s just—not.

“Oh, it sure is,” chuckles Lucifer.

Lucifer pushes the entire length of Sam’s penis into Jack and moves it back and forth, in and out. He says something about Sam being tall all over, huh, kiddo, but finally stops talking after that. Just grunts and moans against Jack’s ear, Jack’s cheek, as he rubs Sam’s penis inside Jack. It hurts. It doesn’t. It’s weird. Jack doesn’t like it.

Sam’s voice whispers, “Stop lying to yourself.” The bed creaks softly. Sam slaps into Jack so hard their skins smack against each other. It sounds wet. “He’s thought about this. About a lot, involving you. Trust me, this is one of the nice things.”

Jack’s body pools hot, inside. His thoughts are too blurry to hold onto. The world is reduced to—Sam, on top of him—no, his father, not Sam.

“Hmmm. You start feeling like her. Wanna pretend you’re Kelly, hm? Let’s play you’re Mommy, Jack.”

Sam thrusts harder; Jack’s teeth rattle, his tears keep coming. When it all crashes to a sudden stop, Jack doesn’t understand—Sam groans with clenched teeth and it’s all throbbing and sore, inside, but the next time Sam moves, it’s—warmer, wetter. Jack shudders, horrified. He doesn’t understand.

“Phew. We needed that.”

Lucifer chuckles. Lucifer pushes himself up on Sam’s hands and stretches Sam’s body like a cat, rolls Sam’s head on Sam’s shoulders. Sam’s throat glistens with sweat. His hair sticks to his forehead, his jaw.

Sam hums. Lucifer guides Jack’s hand below Sam’s t-shirt, the sweat-slick, tight skin of Sam’s stomach and chest. They tug Sam’s shirt off together. Sam leans in to kiss Jack and Jack moans as Sam rolls his hips, still deep inside, filling Jack out completely. Sam chuckles. Sam blankets Jack’s hands that cup and feel his hairy chest.

“Yeah. That’s the spirit.”

“Sam…!”

“Right here, baby.” Sam picks up a shallow rhythm once more. Presses deep into Jack, curls over him like a tree, a cave. Holds him. Kisses him. “Daddy’s right here.”

[deantransgressions2]

13x03 patience 

#1: tried to legitimately say that if jody died on that hunt it would have been sams fault.... also dean called jack the antichrist. which sam has also been called in the past. and dean knows this. 

context: missouri called and wanted help, sam put jody on the case.

sam: “not great. she said that she got out of the life for a while but something happened and she needed help with a case, so i put jody on it.”

dean: “why would you do that?”

sam: “because we need to stay here. we need to help jack learn how to control his powers. jody can handle this.”

dean: “yeah, maybe she can. or maybe she ends up dead because you wanted to skip out on her to babysit the antichrist.”

time tag: 5:55

#2: yelled at sam for not being a murder. basically.

time tag: 6:15

#3: dean has officially convinced a week old child that he is evil. 

sam: “no, jack. why do you think you’re evil? because when i look at you, that’s not what i see.”

jack: “yeah well, dean sees it. that’s why he says… he said he’d kill me.”

sam: “he what?”

jack: “and maybe he should. mom said i could be good, that i had the choice to be good, that it was up to me. but she’s dead, because of me. i’ve only been on earth for a few days and i’ve already hurt people. i’ve already done bad things, and no matter how hard i try, i can’t… i can’t do the one good, stupid thing you want me to. so i must be evil, like lucifer.”

time tag: 23:20

#4: an abuse victim apologizing for his abuser. dean did not help sam with his powers and addiction at all. in fact, he did they exact opposite.

jack: “sam, why are you being so nice to me?”

sam: “because i know what it feels like, to feel like you don’t belong. to feel like there’s this darkness inside of you, to be scared of who you are, what you can do. dean, cas, my family helped me through that. so now i want to help you, because you’re not evil, jack.”

time tag: 25:39

#5: the hypocrisy of it all...

james: “when your mother got sick, grandma told me, she said, ‘tess will be alright.’ she promised me, but then tess… she apologized after, she said nothing’s ever set in stone but i, i couldn’t forgive her.”

dean: “so you cut your mother out of her life?”

time tag: 26:40

#6: dean blatantly lied. then called jack a freak, which is a word he has also called sam many many times in the past , and a word that clearly still triggers sam. dean also admitted again to having a fetish for killing children (that’s a joke but i’m serious). 

sam: “no, dean. he’s messed up because of you. dean, you said you’d kill him.”

dean: “it wasn’t exactly like that.”

sam: “then how exactly was it?”

dean: “i told him the truth. see, you think you can use this freak but i know how this ends and it ends bad.”

sam: “i didn’t ‘end bad’. when i was the ‘freak’, when i was drinking demon blood.”

time tag: 39:35

#7: dean’s favorite coping mechanism strikes again!!! yell at sam!! he was attempting to emotionally manipulate sam into agreeing with him. dean is also confirming here, for the second time, that he blames jack for things he never did. he wanted to kill jack for no rational reason. AND dean still believes he is the god of deciding who is right and who is wrong, who is evil and who is good. we have seen it in every single season post s3

sam: “was it? because you could’ve put a bullet in me. dad told you to put a bullet in me, but you didn’t! you saved me! so help me save him!”

dean: “you deserved to be saved, he doesn’t!

sam: “yes he does, dean, of course he does!”

dean: “look, i know you think that you can use him as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! because you only care about what he can do for you! so if you want to pretend, that’s fine! but me? i can hardly look at the kid! because when i do all i see is everybody we’ve lost!”

sam: “mom chose to take that shot at lucifer. that is not on jack!”

dean: “and what about cas?”

sam: “what about cas?”

dean: “he manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and cas bought it and you know what that got him? it got him dead! now you might be able to forget about that, but i can’t!”

time tag: 39:55

[crashdevlin]

A River in Egypt 14- Denial

It’s Only Natural Masterlist   A River in Egypt Masterlist

Author’s Note: A series of snapshots from the It’s Only Natural universe, all told from Sam’s POV.

Summary: After losing Dean in the fight with Amara, Sam and Y/n are kidnapped by the British Men of Letters and tortured. Sam seizes the opportunity to get what he's wanted for years.

Pairing: Sam x Sister!reader

Word count: 4663

Story Warnings: torture, pain, incest (sister wincest), exhibitionism,  18+ HERE BE SEX! DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, oral sex (fem rec), unprotected sex, creampie

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I hate this. I hate that I can’t devote all of my time to finding Y/n. I hate that Dean is all caught up in Amara and I hate that Y/n ran away again and I hate that...I kissed her. I kissed her and then she ran away. I hate that I just let her leave. I should have talked to her. I should have apologized for kissing her. I should-

I call her again. She doesn’t answer. Months of not answering. I hate this.

Dean keeps snarking at me about calling her, discouraging me from trying to find her. If he would just shut up and let me! Let me find her, let me bring her home! Let me apologize for being half the reason she left. Well, not half. Dean was more than half. Dean was 90%. Dean was more than that, even, because then there’s the whole thing where he knocked her up! On purpose! And then abandoned her!

Ya know...if she wasn’t a Winchester...if she wasn’t the strongest of us, I’d have been worried she might do something stupid. But she has never been the type to do that stupid thing. She’s the type to run off to get her head straight. She’s the type to come home eventually. She never has been able to stay away from us for too long.

But she seems determined to stay gone this time and all my searching isn’t finding and I hate that Dean was right that I wouldn’t be able to find her. Even when we lose Cas and Dean starts helping me, we still can’t find her. She does have amazing skills. Why don’t we lean on them more often instead of leaning on her emotionally, leaning on her physically?

We are the shittiest brothers ever.

And of course, it’s Chuck that brings her home. I couldn’t find her, again , and a higher power brings her home. Dean starts in on Chuck because of course he needs to air his damn grievances and Y/n only takes issue with Chuck’s qualifications of our misery. She gets up to make herself a drink and I follow her. She looks good, considering the fact that it’s been almost a year since I’ve seen her...and considering she’s upset.

I put my hand on her back to comfort her and, of course, Dean has to put his two cents in about that. “You should keep your hands to yourself,” he says as he sets a beer on the Map Table in front of me and I look up at him. He’s not angry. If it weren’t for Amara, he’d be furious that I touched her. “Y/n. She’s probably not in a good place for that.”

“How would you know?” I snap at him. He hasn’t even talked to her. He sits down next to me and takes a drink of his beer.

“Look, I’m just sayin’, Sam...it’s been a good eleven months or so since you’ve seen her, maybe you should ease into trying to replace me,” he reasons.

Replace him? As what, the brother forcing a baby on her? “I’m not trying to replace you, Dean.” I pick up the beer. “Unlike you, I’m just caring for her.”

“Caring for her doesn’t require touching her at every opportunity,” Dean says, shaking his head. I look at the tabletop and bite the inside of my lip. It's not my fault. I just wanted to comfort her. “We care about each other and we barely touch unless one of us is dying.”

I roll my eyes. It's like he doesn't even realize how upset she was back there. Of course, he doesn't know, does he? The losses that Chuck said were necessary...what he lost and he doesn't even know. "That's...not true, Dean. We touch each other all the time...and Y/n was upset, okay? What Chuck was saying was-"

“Dude, come on, you were feeling her up in your feminist way.” Why does he say that like it’s an insult? “Shut up. Don’t think I forgot you making out with her the night before she left, and I didn’t forget the collar either.” The collar. It took me a while to remember the collar. Guess I’ve been jealous of Dean’s connection with Y/n for a lot longer than we were using her to combat the Mark. I take a drink of my beer and clear my throat.

“Look. For Y/n’s good, she should probably not start anything else with her brother, ya know? Can you imagine how bad things coulda gone if she’d stayed with me?” Yeah, Dean, I can. “She’s better off with someone outside of our family.”

I scoff and shake my head. “What, you’re actually gonna let her be with someone without forcing them out of her life?”

Dean sighs and makes a clicking noise. “Yeah, I deserve that...and I got no good excuse for all the guys I blocked from her, but that’s not what I’m doing here.” He leans back in his chair and looks at me. “Look, we both know that what I did to her is...inexcusable, right? We both know I should never have touched her and it’s sick that I wanted to for so long. Just like we both know it’s sick that you want to.”

How dare he judge me? After everything he did? It doesn’t matter if I want it, I’ve never done anything other than kiss her. Even when I didn’t have a fucking soul, all I did was put a collar on her. He raped her and I might have gotten off on it but-

“It’s the best thing, for both of you, for you to go jack it to some of that porn you think no one knows you have and stop thinking about Y/n.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. Why does he always bring up me masturbating? “Not everything is about sex, Dean. I’m just trying to be there for her. That’s all.”

“Okay, Sammy,” he says like he doesn’t believe me. “Keep it that way. S’all I’m sayin’.”

There’s a million miles of subtext in that.

But at least she’s back. That’s the important part. The next morning, I go to check on her and talk to her about Grandma Millie. I end up sitting next to her on her bed as she tells me about the postcards that Dad used to send his mom, how he signed them with ‘Johnny’. And then she leans her head against my shoulder. It’s so nice. I missed her so much over the past year. I’m so happy to have her here where I can feel her and smell the roses on her hair.

“I’m tired, Sammy. I haven’t been home a day and I’m exhausted,” she admits.

“Have you talked to Dean?” I ask. Not that talking to him is gonna change anything.

“He said he’s sorry. He doesn’t even know what he’s sorry for.”

Of course not. I didn’t tell him what he needed to be sorry for...and I’m guessing neither has she. “You haven’t told him about the baby, have you?”

“It’s not like he would care,” she snaps.

With Amara still alive that’s probably right, but I say, “You don’t know that,” to make her feel a bit better.

“It’s not...I only...it was really early first trimester, Sam. I couldn’t have been more than six weeks. I...I only took the test right after Charlie’s funeral and...the Stynes…” She clears her throat and pulls away from me to look in my eyes. Her eyes are all watery and sad. “I don’t know why it hurts so much.”

She’s been hurting over this for a year and she’s been beating herself up for how she feels, too? “Because you created life, Y/n, and that was taken from you. It’s allowed to hurt.” I reach out and run the back of my knuckles down her cheek. I just wanna make her feel better. “ You’re allowed to hurt.”

I wanna kiss her, but the thought has barely crossed my mind to start leaning in when she goes stiff and pulls away. “Th-thank you, Sammy.”

I rub my hands together as I stand. Yeah, probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Maybe Dean’s right. Probably Dean’s right. “You know, i-if you need anything, I’m here,” I tell her and she nods so I just leave. It’s a bad idea to try to get close to her right now. It’s a bad idea.

Especially since she seems determined to sacrifice herself. Which, thankfully, she fails at. Every part of our plan to take down the Darkness fails. So we have to come up with another option...which puts Dean on the chopping block. This seems like it’s the...the last time. The end. Especially when Dean kisses Y/n right there in front of Cas, Crowley, and Rowena.

“Sam, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Cas says as we enter the bunker. “If you want to talk...I’m here if either of you need anything.”

“Hello, hello,” a happy British voice calls out across the War Room. A well-dressed woman slams her hand into a banishing sigil on the wall, sending Cas away. Y/n and I call his name and reach for our pistols but the woman raises a gun before we can. “Don’t. Y/n and Sam Winchester. Toni Bevell,” she introduces. “Men of Letters, London Chapterhouse.” What? There’s still Men of Letters?

“Oh you won’t have heard of me...us. We’re very traditional. Keep out of the way, keep to our studies.”

“You, um…” I look over at Y/n, who looks just as confused as I feel, then look back to the intruder and shake my head. “What?”

“They sent me to take you in.”

“To take us in?” Y/n asks.

“Assuming the world didn’t end, and...yay!” she says. I am not in the mood for this shit.

“Look, lady,” I start, stepping toward her.

“We’ve been watching you, Sam. What you’ve done, the damage you’ve caused...archangels, Leviathans, the Darkness, and now, well...the old men have decided enough’s enough. I mean, let’s face it. You’re just jumped-up hunters playing with things you don’t understand and doing more harm than good.” I almost growl at that. We didn’t ask for the archangels or the Leviathans or the damn Darkness. We didn’t even ask to be hunters. “Now, where’s Dean?” she finishes.

“Dead,” I answer, focusing on my anger so that she doesn’t see the sadness in my face. “Listen, lady, I don’t know who the hell you are or what the hell you want-” I start advancing on her again.

“Stop,” she demands, but I don’t listen.

“Put the gun down,” I snap.

“I said stop,” she reminds me.

“We all know you’re not gonna pull the trigger,” I say, but she does. Y/n screams when the bitch’s gun goes off, bullet impacting my thigh. I hit the floor, Y/n drops next to me to put pressure on me.

“I’m going to retrieve something to use as a tourniquet,” the intruder says to Y/n as she tucks her gun into a holder on her hip. “I assume you wish Sam to survive. Don’t try anything stupid.”

“You bitch,” Y/n growls at her.

“Oh, you’ll be needing a gag too, then.” She starts to walk away as I take deep breaths to keep my pain level down. “Bloody hunters.”

“You’re gonna be okay, Sammy,” Y/n whispers.

I fucking hope so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A cattle prod wakes me up. Y/n and I are bound to wooden chairs, hands cuffed behind our backs, ankles cuffed to the chair legs. I look over at Y/n to make sure she’s in better shape than me before I look around the room. We’re in a storm cellar. Nothing unique in Kansas.

“Be a good boy,” the woman with the cattle prod says as Toni Bevell walks down the stairs.

“You,” I bite out, pulling at my restraints.

She sits down in a chair across the cellar from us and flips open a notebook, taking the cap off of a fancy pen. “Now, Y/n, Sam...let’s begin.”

“Toni Bevell, London Chapterhouse.” Bitch. Stupid British cunt. Broke into my home, shot me, knocked me and my sister out.

“That’s right.”

“So, you’re what. You’re English Men of Letters?” Y/n asks.

“British,” Toni corrects.

“Right. Big distinction,” Y/n says rolling her eyes.

“You would think that you, the smarter Winchesters, would care about that difference.”

“Well, you don’t sound Welsh, so…” Y/n is such a snarky bitch. I love her.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“Does it matter?” she taunts me.

“Just wondering how far we’re gonna have to walk back to town after we kill you,” I answer. I nod at the woman in black who shocked us. “And her. But you first.”

She obviously doesn’t believe we’re gonna murder her. “Yes, well, before you murder us all, we do have a few questions about you, your brother, Hunters in America, and how you saved the sun.”

Really? “Right. You shoot me, kidnap us, but yeah, we’re happy to help,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Sam. You gave me no choice. And, well, I could say it was never supposed to go this way, but you’re...you . It was always going to go this way.”

“And you know me?” I snap.

“We do,” she confirms. “We’ve been watching you and the twins for years. Ever since you almost ended the world the first time. We knew all about Lucifer, the angels falling, the Mark of Cain and its various...side effects.” I look over at Y/n, who looks so embarrassed. Fuck Toni for making Y/n feel like that.

“Then where were you?” Y/n asks.

“Fair question. See, some of us wanted to get involved but the old men wouldn’t allow it. Thought we were overstepping our bounds. After all of this business with the Darkness, even they have to agree...things need to change. And while you might not believe this, Winchesters, we’re here to help.”

Of course they are. “Yeah, no. I-I can tell,” I say sarcastically.

“I want to apologize for locking you up. You’re dangerous--to others and yourselves--but if you answer my questions, you both walk right out that door. I promise.”

I look over at Y/n. I wanna resist, but based on what I know of these assholes, they’re going to hurt us. I don’t want to fight back if Y/n isn’t up to the pain. But she’s the strongest of us. She tells me with a look that she understands and agrees that we’ll get through whatever they throw at us together. “Pass,” I answer for us.

“Sam,” Toni scolds me. She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.

“You can ask me any kind of question you want. The answer’s gonna be the exact same: Screw you. You wanna get mad? You wanna get mean? I’ve been tortured by the Devil himself. So you? You’re just an accent in a pantsuit. What can you do to me?” I see Y/n gawking at me from the corner of my eye. She looks impressed...and maybe a little turned on.

“And what about your sister?” Toni asks, capping her pen. “Dear Y/n here hasn’t ever been to Hell. Her only interactions with Lucifer and the archangels has been tangential. She’s never been ‘tortured by the Devil himself’. Do you think she could handle it?”

“Screw. You,” Y/n says with all the spite and confidence of a Winchester. Damn, that’s sexy. The woman in black turns on a cold tap and water starts raining down on us. “I can handle anything you throw at us.”

“A cold shower? That’s your play?” I scoff and shake the water from my hair. We start shaking but we don’t complain. We don’t say anything except, “Screw you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up on the floor, out of my restraints. My burned feet are wrapped. My whole body hurts. I’ve taken a beating...and so has Y/n. I’m proud of how much pain she stood up to. When I see her on the floor on the opposite side of her chair, fear that she’s succumbed to the pain overwhelms me. I just lost Dean. I can’t lose her too. I shake her, call her name, check her pulse. She’s alive, but her breathing is shallow. I need her to wake up.

“Y/n. Y/n, you need to wake up,” I whisper desperately, grasping at her face.

“Um ah-righ,” she slurs and I let out a sigh of relief. She’s not out of the woods until she opens her eyes.

“Hey, hey! I can’t lose you too!” I shake her slightly.

“You’re really loud,” she mumbles, a little clearer, but still not awake.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know but you need to wake up.”

Her eyelids flutter over her gorgeous green eyes for a moment before they slide up and she focuses on me. “I tol’ you I’m okay, Sammy,” she says, trying to sit up. I help her and look over her. “Why aren’t we tied up?”

Good question. “We passed out, both ended up on the floor.” I point at the camera on the ceiling in the corner. “They’re watching us from that camera. I’m not sure the game here, but they definitely shouldn’t have-” My eyes go wide as she her whole body goes stiff and she screams like she did when they took the torch to her toes. “Whoa! W-what, what happened?”

“I-I don’t-” She shakes her head, looking up at me with panic in her eyes. “It’s-” Her next scream cuts off her words and she clamps it down but then she just starts whimpering. “It’s like I’m on fire, inside is on fire.”

I start looking her over. A hex bag, a sigil, something that’s causing this pain...a needle mark? I pull her hair off of her shoulder and run my fingertips over a pissed-off mark on her shoulder. “Needle mark. She injected you with something.”

“T-they...they’re trying to break you by b-breaking mmme…” She’s probably right, but I know she won’t break. “I’m the softer target.”

I shake my head and look down at her. She’s not soft. “Nah. You aren’t...you’re strong and...you can-”

She lets out a disbelieving breath. “Only time I’ve been tortured is when Gordon had me, and that--that wasn’t…” She whines and scrunches her face up. Gordon tortured her because of me. Toni’s torturing her because of me. “Hng...that was nothing.”

“You’re not gonna break, Y/n. You’re a Winchester.” Dean did thirty years worth of Hell torture before he broke. I...don’t even know how long Lucifer had me. She can do this.

“I’ve always been the weak-” she starts and I can’t hear her talking about herself like that so I lay her back on the floor and look down into her eyes.

“Not weak. Sensitive, beautiful, amazing.” Perfect. Gorgeous. Sexy. Fuck, how can she look so sexy after a night of torture and days of emotional bullshit and mourning? I look down her body, her perfect, curvy body. I’m fucked in the head, but...I want her. We might die here and I want her. Just once. “Just gotta distract you from the pain, sis,” I whisper as I pull her shirt up. Get her through this until whatever they hit her with wears off. I’m drawn to the burn marks on her abs from the cattle prod and I run my fingers over them. “Gonna make it better...and then we’re gonna make London Chapterhouse pay.”

“Sam, w-what are-” she starts, but I can’t let her talk me outta this. I have to taste her just this once. I lean down and kiss her burn and she gasps. I’ve heard her make that noise for Dean. I wanna make her make all the noises I’ve heard her make for Dean. I pull her shirt up over her bra and start mouthing at her boobs, wetting her bra, but I don’t care because her nipples are poking through the cotton. “Sam,” she whines, and holy shit, my name has never sounded so good.

“I love how my name sounds on your lips. Can’t wait to hear you scream it,” I admit, grinding my dick against her pussy. She grabs my shoulders like she’s trying to hold on for dear life. “Fuck, I’ve dreamed of this. Was so jealous of Dean.”

I start licking at her neck, the column of her throat. I use a little bit of teeth because I wanna mark her as mine. Just this once. She’s breathing heavy and it’s amazing. “I...Sam, please,” she begs as I pop the button on her jeans. She’s begging me. Fuck.

“So fuckin’ needy, sis. Gonna be too easy to get you off when you’re already begging for it.” I slide my hand into her jeans and rub at her clit. She cries out in pain and pleasure and I try to balance it a little more toward pleasure by rubbing a little harder and ramping up the dirty talk. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, Y/n. Soaking your panties. That all for me?”

“Sam…” she whines and that’s still the best thing I’ve ever heard.

“Don’t worry. Gonna take care of you,” I promise, pulling her pants and underwear down and off of her left leg so I can spread her thighs and hook her knees over my shoulders. I kiss my way up her inner thigh. I wanna go slow, but I’m so fucking eager and scared that the British Men of Letters might stop me. I kiss her pussy and her taste coats my lips. She tastes amazing. No wonder Dean couldn’t help but eat her out at inappropriate times. “Taste so fuckin’ good.”

“Fuck, Sam, please,” she begs and how can I say ‘no’? I start licking her lips and sliding my tongue into her slit, slurping at her delicious juices and listening to her gasps and moans. When she twists her fingers in my hair, I fuck my tongue into her pussy. She starts squirming and I put my hands on her stomach to hold her in place. “Sam, I need to--Sam, please, I need to cum, please, please, plea-” I make her scream when I move my mouth to suck her clit into my mouth.

The noise she makes is just...the best fucking thing ever, and I am hard as stone and I need to fuck her, now. I lean back and start undressing as I lick at her taste on my lips and chin. “Think they’re still watching? Huh?” I ask as I carefully pull my pants down. Her eyes go a bit wide when she sees my cock. “Or do you think they averted their proper English, sorry, British eyes when the video stream became incest porn?”

She tears her eyes away from my dick to the camera in the corner. Maybe I shouldn’t have reminded her that it was there. “Uh, I...I don’t-”

“I hope they’re still watching,” I say, carefully laying my body over hers. “Want them to see you cum all over my cock.” Her jaw drops at that. She doesn’t know just how dirty I can be. She’s gonna see before we’re done here. I lean down to kiss her, sliding the head of my cock to her entrance. She whimpers as another wave of fire hits her and I start pushing into her, French kissing her as I slowly get into her.

I’m big. Bigger than Dean, I know that much, almost certainly bigger than Jesse. I’m probably the biggest she’s ever taken, so I know that I have to go slow. But my big fucking dick is definitely distracting her...and that’s why I started this, right? I wanted to get her through this pain, but there’s no reason we can’t enjoy ourselves.

We’re kissing each other, hands buried in each other’s hair, as we wait for her to adjust. It always takes women a few minutes to get used to me...but eventually, I gotta move and when I do? When I start rolling my hips, rocking against her...I’ve never felt anything like it. I drop my head to her shoulder and take deep breaths. “Fuck, Y/n. I’ve wanted this for so fucking long. Since Dean was in Purgatory.” Since she was watching over me in Kermit. Since I was dreaming of fucking her with that collar on. “Used to fuck Amelia, picturing you,” I say as I start thrusting into her. I pick up speed a bit faster than I normally would but I’m so eager.

She grabs at my shoulders, fingernails digging in and I groan. “Sam! Fuck! Slow d-down,” she begs. Too fast, I guess.

I slow a bit, looking into her eyes as I fuck her. She’s got the most amazing body. “God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/n. You’re squeezing my cock so good. I’m gonna fucking cum.” I grab her breast and tweak her nipple, loving the way it makes her clench around me. She’s exactly what I imagined she’d be. Perfect. “You gonna cum for me, sis? I wanna see your face. I’ve heard you cum so many times, I wanna see. I wanna feel it.”

I reach between us and rub my thumb over her clit and her nails dig in more as she whines, “Sammy.” Her body goes stiff as I start fucking her harder. She’s so fucking close. I’m gonna get to make her cum. “Fuckfuckfuck,” she rambles as her eyes roll back and her jaw drops a bit. Her breath catches on her orgasm and so does mine. I’ve never seen her look so beautiful, so blissful and heavenly.

“So beautiful,” I whisper. I kiss her again as my own orgasm approaches, pain shooting through me as my burned toes curl. I grunt into her mouth as I fill her with cum, gasping in a breath as my head goes woozy. That was everything I thought it was gonna be. Holy shit. I kiss her neck and jawline as I pull out of her. She hasn’t whimpered in a few minutes. “How’s the pain?”

“Better,” she says, stretching her neck a bit. “I think...whatever they injected me with, it’s wearing off.”

I lean away from her, get up on my forearm. I laugh as I look down at her red cheeks and sweaty forehead. “Or maybe I fucked it out of you.” I smirk as I pull her shirt down.

“Yeah. Maybe. My spirits are higher in the very least,” she says sitting up. She smiles at me for a minute before a sadness takes her eyes. “We’re gonna get out of this, right? That wasn’t a ‘Last Night on’-”

“No,” I cut her off as we start getting dressed. Her abandonment issues are huge. “That was a first of many. Next time, it’ll be better. Neither of us will be in pain.”

She shrugs and stands and I’m kinda proud of the way her legs are shaking. “Maybe a little bit of pain isn’t too bad.”

Dean was right? She likes pain. That means I don’t have to hold back with her. Perfect. She’s so fucking perfect. I smile at her. “You’re a little freaky, aren’t you?”

“Says the exhibitionist who just came inside his big sister,” she snaps back.

I chuckle. “Got me there.” It’s hot that she’s got my cum dripping out of her right now. “Let’s see if we can get outta here, huh?” She nods and we start looking around the cellar for weapons and a way out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​ @wasabiwitteks​ @rainbowkisses31​ @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661​ @officiallyunofficialperson​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​ @gayspacenerd​ @foxyjwls007​ @ilovefanfic86​ @marvelfansworld​ @f-yeahfandoms​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @hhiggs​ @sev3nruby​  @hobby27​ @paintballkid711​ @divadinag​ @thewhiterabbit42​ @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @superfanficnatural​ @letsby​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @swinchester27​ @chalicia​ @sunnyroadtrips​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @dayasvalkyrie​ Hunter Tags - @atc74​ @sandlee44​ @spnbaby-67​ @kalesrebellion​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @hoboal87​ @stoneyggirl​ @kbl1313​ @cookiechipdough​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @holylulusworld​ @pretty-fortune​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​ @imperiusimpala​ @supernaturalenchanted​ Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @jadesupernatural​ @stoneyggirl​ @4fareader​ @squirrelnotsam​ @lyarr24​ @akshi8278​ @pretty-fortune​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​ Hazy For Hazel Tags - @slut-for-jared @stoneyggirl​ @aeo10fan​ @pretty-fortune​ Wincest Tags - @typicalweirdbookworm​ @slut-for-jared @hoboal87​ @bobasheebaby​ @squirrelnotsam​ @akshi8278​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​

[emryswinchester]

i got a hc that like what would happen if Merlin had met the Winchesters while waiting for Arthur like lets say he met them around s5 and Arthur rises during s15 something like that

First things first Merlin meets the Winchesters. I honestly feel that Merlin would have already knew who the Winchesters were because they always caused a huge ass disturbance in the earth and since Merlin is the son of the earth, sea and sky he can feel the disturbances. So one day he finally snaps (sort of) and goes to help the Winchesters. I think he would appear in season 5 episode 5 Fallen Idols. (the episode where the wax figures “come to life”) it would kinda go down like this:

Sam was at the motel doing research while dean being dean he’s at the bar hitting on the bartender. Sam started to have a hard time looking up things about the car when Merlin appears in the room clearly pissed (I think Merlin would appear like Castiel but he uses a teleportation spell). Sam out of instinct reached for his gun and asked the basic questions like ‘who are you?’  and ‘how did you get in here?’ Merlin answered all of his questions to get him to calm down. Sam was astonished he couldn’t believe thee Merlin was in his motel room to help them with Lucifer. Sam had started asking about the relationship he has with Arthur and Merlin said that he and Arthur were boyfriends friends

Merlin meets dean and cas. when they were face to face with Lucifer he tried to kill Merlin but he was all like I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me and after he helped them with Lucifer he was kinda like cas meaning when they call him he usually appears and helps them with some cases and all that crap.

Once the Winchesters found the bunker they had asked Merlin to stay at the bunker so he doesn’t have to always use the teleportation spell because the spell had always made him extremely tired and of course he said yes because he was sick of doing that.

When Jack was born Merlin was super protective of him and like Sam he understood what Jack was feeling about being a nephilim and all, like Merlin is his 5th father™

OK we reach season 15 Jackie boi has to defeat Chuck and Amara and Arthur fucking rises so Merlin has to use that horrid teleportation spell and Merlin gets Arthur all settled in to the bunker and introduced him to Sam, dean, cas and jack and also explains why he came back and all that crap.

alright they are all situated and since season 15 is not over i think instead of jack killing chuck and amara Arthur does with thee Excalibur since thee Excalibur can kill pretty much anything right and instead of killing amara they leave her and kill chuck because if jack is alive and he has almost the same amount of power as him he can be the balance of light.

I honestly think writing this would be easier if season 15 was over but thank you for giving me something to write. YOU ARE APPRECIATED!