#spn were like what if and listen to me on this what if we did the iconic damsel in distress trope hear me out hear me out

[shadystranger]

Oh that is... That's villain-kidnaps-sam-bc-he's-dean's-weakness the scene 68536

[percyluvr]

sam winchester x fem!witch!reader summary: you're unaware of your witchy heritage, or even the existence of the supernatural, until two hunters come waltzing into your life claiming that you and your mother are witches wc: 9802 warning: pre-bunker era supernatural, violence (not a lot but enough to warrant a warning, i think), not proofread dedicated to my only (i think) pjo + spn moot, skye

“You’re up early, Sammy,” Dean says, looking into the doorway at his brother wiping sweat off his forehead. “And sweaty.”

“Yeah, I went for a jog. You should try it, it’s good for you. Plus, it’s nice outside.”

“Right, no thank you. Sleep is essential to keep looking this good.”

“Alright, man, if you say so,” Sam replies, disgust apparent on his face.

“Whatever. Listen to this,” Dean starts. “A middle-aged woman in Tupelo, Mississippi, was found dead last night with all of her teeth missing, and some freaky ass carving of some horned thing on her chest. Her husband came home and found her lying on the bathroom floor. Apparently she didn’t die until after she made it to the hospital, though, so whoever or whatever did this wanted it to be long and painful.”

“Huh. Sounds creepy.”

“Exactly. So what do you think? Our kind of gig?” Dean asks, fully knowing they were going to go find out either way.

“Yeah, definitely. Y’wanna head out now or get something to eat?”

“I’m hungry as hell. I need a burger before we deal with this.”

“I feel you. Well, not the burger part, but I’m definitely gonna need food before we head out.”

“Let’s hit the town then, see what there is to eat here,” Dean says, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders before walking out the door, Sam following after grabbing his laptop and jacket of his own.

****

After driving for a bit, they find a small, semi-trashy diner.

"I can't believe this is the only decent looking place in this whole town," Dean complains.

"I mean, what do you expect? We're in a town with a population below three thousand."

"Right. The food better be good or else I'll be pissed. Give me that menu," he grumpily demanded.

"Their salad looks good."

"Yeah, real funny. I'm gonna get that special edition deluxe baconator," Dean said excitedly, mood immediately improving at the sight of a greasy burger on the menu.

Sam makes a face, about to say something, but is interrupted by the waitress arriving at the table.

"You boys ready to order or do you need more time?" She asks, eyeing Dean.

"Oh, we're ready," Dean flirts.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'll get the, uh, shake it up salad."

"Okay, and for you?" She asks Dean.

"I'll get that deluxe baconator."

"Got it, I'll be back in a sec."

She starts walking away, Dean eyeing her every step of the way.

"Seriously, dude?" Sam asks in disgust.

"Yeah, look at her, dude. Tell me you don't want a piece of that."

"Alright, man, enough. As soon as we finish we're getting right out of here, no flirting."

"Whatever. Don't be jealous you never get laid."

Sam rolls his eyes as the waitress walks over with a salad in one hand and Dean's burger in the other.

"Thank you," Dean says, giving her a wink. Sam sighs exasperatedly for what feels like the six hundredth time today.

"You've got to stop that."

"Stop what? I'm just appreciating the beauties of the world."

"Yeah, I'm ignoring you now. Eat your food so we can go."

"Who died and made you boss?" Dean mutters.

Sam ignores him, and proceeds to wolf down his salad.

"Little hungry there?" Dean asks.

"Last time I checked, I was the one that went for a three mile jog this morning, not you, so I'll eat all I want, thanks."

"Just asking, don't get your panties in a twist."

"Whatever, I'm done eating."

Dean wolfs down the rest of his greasy, and in Sam's opinion, disgusting burger, managing to nearly choke on it twice, then stands up and walks toward the counter. He turns around and mouths 'getting her number,' and raises his eyebrows twice at Sam, who just rolls his eyes in response.

Sam shakes his head and walks out to the Impala, assuming that Dean is flirting, with a side of paying for their breakfast.

He opens the shiny black door of his brother's 1967 Chevy Impala and sits down on the beige seat, looking out the window at the diner. Moments later, the door opens and Sam sees Dean’s smug smile and a small piece of paper being waved around in the air.

When Dean sits down in his car, he immediately looks at Sam. “And that is how it’s done by a true master of charm,” he boasts, putting the key in the ignition and shifting to reverse.

“Good for you. I can get girls’ numbers too, y’know. I’m not celibate, or whatever crap you call me.”

“Sure, Sammy. Whatever makes you feel better. But if you really think you can get a girl’s number instead of me, you’re mistaken. So, whoever gets the number of the hottest girl wins.”

“That’s stupid, I’m not doing that.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t see. I’m focusing on the case.”

Sam sees Dean smirk in response as they pull out of the parking lot. He clenches his jaw in annoyance.

****

Halfway on the way to Tupelo, Sam asks, “So what do you think we’re looking at here? ‘S not everyday we work a job like this.”

“Honestly? No idea. Not a big fan of the carving on the chest, either. Never seen a symbol like that before.” 

"Great," Sam grumbles, and for the rest of the car ride his thoughts were full of possibilities of what they could be hunting.

****

Four hours later, the Impala rolls into Tupelo, and the first building they see is a fairly decent looking motel, which they decide to spend the night in. After checking into the motel, they carry their bags into the room, immediately grabbing out their fake FBI badges and cheap costume suits.

After quickly changing, they head out to the Impala. “Ready to see every dentist’s nightmare?” Dean jokes.

“Actually, pretty sure that would be you. I can’t remember a day where you didn’t eat some kind of candy or tooth rotting food,” Sam says. “Or even brushed your teeth for that matter.”

“Dude, I brush my teeth.” Sam raises his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right. Your breath smells like a dead person.”

****

Dean parks the Impala in front of a white two-story house in some, as Dean says, stuffy suburban neighborhood. They get out of the car and walk over to the house, Sam knocking on the front door.

A man, the woman's husband, Sam assumes, opens the door.

“Mr. Feezerman, we'd like to talk to you about your wife,” Sam says, flashing his fake badge.

“Thank God the FBI is involved. The cops here have no idea what's going on. Come in,” Mr Feezerman says, gesturing for them to come in.

Dean sits down on the couch, leaving Sam standing next to it.

“Mr. Feezerman, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Go right ahead. It’s upstairs, the second door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Sam says with a little nod of his head.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Sam searches through the drawers for a hex bag, but comes up empty. He moves onto checking the cabinet below the sink, but still nothing. He finally looks in the medicine cabinet and finds a small brown cloth tied together by a leather string.

"Damn it," he grumbles.

He grabs the bag and heads back downstairs after putting it in his pocket.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Dean turn to look at him. Sam gives him a nod indicating his search was successful.

"Alright, that's all, thank you, Mr. Feezerman," Dean says.

****

"Alright, so what are we thinking?" Dean asks.

"Well, based on the hex bag I found, I'm thinking witch. And not some beginner level witchcraft, either, dude. I'm talking ancient witchcraft, warts, wrinkles, and all."

"Awesome," Dean groans.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking it's not just one witch, either. Witches this strong usually form covens to protect themselves."

"Awesome times two," Dean says, furrowing his eyebrows and grimacing.

"Well, what did you get? She have any enemies?"

"Her husband said that her and some of the other prissy ladies were in some sort of book club or whatever he said, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about that waitress from before,” Dean says dreamily.

“Dude, focus.”

“Right, anyways. Apparently, he found out through some lady she was friends with that she was cheating on her husband with one of the other lady’s husbands. Say that five times fast.”

“Sounds complicated, but also like we have some clear suspects.”

“Right. The book club or wine club or whatever it is these trophy wives do with their free time.”

“Dude, chill with the ‘I hate cookie-cutter families’ thing.”

“My bad.”

“You wanna head to the morgue or talk to suspects?”

“I’ll go to the morgue, you talk to suspects. I can’t handle any more of these people.”

“Alright. Did you get any names or addresses?”

“Obviously. This isn’t my first hunt,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, man. Take me to the first house.”

****

When they reach the first house, Sam gets out of the car.

“Meet back here in 30?” Sam asks.

“Uhh, y’know what? I think I’ll come with.” 

“What happened to not being able to handle any more of these people today?”

“Well that is one cougar just begging to be tamed,” Dean says, eyeing up the woman sitting on the porch.

“Disgusting, seriously.”

“Don’t hate the player.”

“Shut up.”

They walk up the pathway and up the stairs. When they reach the porch, the blonde woman gets up from her spot on the swing.

“Hello, boys, how can I help you?” She asks.

“FBI, we have a few questions about Amelia Feezerman,” Dean says, holding up his fake badge.

“Oh, dear. Come inside, then,” she says, leading them inside to the living room.

“So, nice place you got here,” Sam says.

“Oh, thank you,” she says, and before she can continue, Sam hears the pitter-patter of feet on the floor. “Honey, the cookies look delicious. Hopefully you two like chocolate chocolate chip.”

“Oh, I’m not really a sugar pers-“ Sam starts to say, but when he sees the woman standing in front of him, he quickly changes his mind. “But it doesn’t hurt occasionally.”

“Good, it’d be a shame if these cookies went to waste,” you say, winking at him.

“Like mother like daughter, damn,” Dean says under his breath.

Sam elbows him. “Knock it off,” he hissed.

“Before you two leave, let me know how the cookies are,” you say, gaze lingering on Sam before you walk out of the living room and back into the kitchen.

“We will,” Sam says, making ‘goo-goo eyes’, as Dean later calls them, at you.

“Dude, go in there and talk to her, I’ll talk to the mom here,” Dean says lowly to Sam, who nods in response and follows you into the kitchen.

The unfamiliar sound of footsteps prompts you to turn around, surprised to see the, in your opinion, cuter agent following you into the kitchen.

“Hello, agent,” you say with a grin.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he shyly responds.

“Well, Sam, what did you think of the cookies?” You ask eagerly.

“They were really good. I’m really a sweets type of person, but you surprised me,” he compliments, the crinkling of his eyes serving as an effect of the wide smile gracing his face. You think that his smile makes him at least five times cuter, but you decide to keep that to yourself, for now at least.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to contribute to the conversion of you into a dessert lover,” you joke, earning another beautiful smile from him.

“So, I’m not exactly here to talk about your cookies, however delicious they may be,” he admits, albeit a bit nervously for someone in the FBI, you think.

You raise an eyebrow. “How can I help you, then?”

“Have you heard about the death of Amelia Feezerman?” Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the cookie you were eating.

“What? Oh my God, no, I had no idea.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t happen to know anything about her death?” He questions.

“Um, no? Why would I know anything about that?” You wearily ask.

“We thought that maybe you would know if there was any reason that anyone would want to hurt her.”

“Well, I didn’t really know her all that well. I know that she was in some book club thing with my mom, but that’s about it,” you say, crossing your arms. “Actually, I did hear that she was getting it on with some of her friends’ husbands.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Sam begins, “wait, plural husbands?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “She’d get with anything that breathes.”

“I see. So do you think any of these women would want to get revenge on her for that?”

“Oh, definitely. Some of these women are vicious. Rich women are some of the craziest people I’ve ever met, so glad I’m only back for three months,” you snicker.

Sam laughs. “So, you in college, then?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my third year, just home for the summer,” you explained.

“Yeah? You enjoying college?”

“Partially, I mean sometimes I miss my mom, but then I remember that visiting her means having to come back here, and I’m over it immediately,” you sheepishly admit.

“Really? It doesn’t seem too bad here, other than the death,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I guess you haven’t seen how people really are here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I guess I just mean that people here are petty and would do anything to get back at anyone for the smallest stuff,” you say sadly. “Especially some of my mom’s friends.”

You take the look on Sam’s face as an incentive to continue, “her friends are like, money obsessed, and if any other woman gets close to their husbands, somehow they’re mysteriously gone within the month. It’s kind of freaky, to be honest.”

Sam clenches his jaw as Dean walks into the kitchen.

"You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah, give me a second.”

Dean gives him a look, but nods and leaves the kitchen.

“Give me a call if you can think of anything else that might be relevant to the case,” Sam says, handing a card with his FBI phone number on it to you.

“Will do,” you say, winking at him.

****

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asks.

“Well, apparently this isn’t the first time this has happened here. According to her, multiple women go missing every year, all women that have gotten too close to the husbands of these book club ladies.”

“So we’re looking at a coven full of snotty rich women?” Dean complains, shoulders sagging.

“Guess so.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad for you though, Sammy. Don’t think I didn’t see you laying down the nerdy charm in there,” he jokes.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Sam defends. “I was just getting information and she happened to be pretty and conversational.”

“Sure, Sammy, sure.”

****

Before heading back to the motel room, Sam and Dean decide to stop by a restaurant for dinner.

“Dude, don’t tell me you’re gonna get another salad. You need some real food.”

“Like what? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure what you eat wouldn’t be classified as ‘real food’ either.”

“It’d be closer to real food than the shit you eat. You eat rabbit food, I eat manly food,” Dean argues.

“‘Manly food?’ How is it manly? It’s just greasy and disgusting. You’re gonna get a clogged artery in like 3 months because of it.”

“Whatever, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

Sam shakes his head and goes back to looking at the menu.

Sam’s menu browsing is interrupted by a familiar voice. “Can I get you two started with a drink?” 

He looks up to find you looking somehow just as beautiful in a waitress uniform, looking at him with stars in your eyes and a grin gracing your features.

“Well, hello again, agent. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me,” you playfully say, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Hey, again. And yeah, I’ll just have a water,” he says.

“Alright, but honestly, I’d get the strawberry lemonade. It’s way better.”

“If you say it’s good, then I’ll give it a try,” he says, smiling coyly.

“Good, so a strawberry lemonade for you,” you start, turning to Dean, “and for you?”

Dean orders his drink, and while they wait for you to return with their drinks, they look at the food on the menus, at least Sam does, until he realizes that Dean is looking at him over his menu with a smirk on his face.

“Dude, what’s up with you and the waitress?”

“Nothing,” Sam says hesitantly. “I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If a hot girl is hitting on you, take that as a blessing. How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?” Dean reminds him, and for once Sam thinks he’s right, only a little bit, though. It had been a while since he even flirted with a girl, and it really couldn’t hurt, could it?

However, his train of thought is interrupted by your presence at the table again. You place each drink in front of them, being extra careful with Sam’s. 

“So, are we ready to order?” You ask.

The boys order, and you jot it down on your notepad before walking away from their table. This time, Sam takes the time to watch the way your hips swing from side to side every time you take a step. All he can think is that you have the most graceful walk he has ever seen in his life, which he then thinks is a little weird, but it’s just like him to notice these small, weird, and typically brushed over details of people.

When you back out of the kitchen doors, a plate in each hand, Sam is still staring. He can’t help thinking how beautiful you are, and how cute the smirk you always seem to have on your face is.

You place the plates down on the table. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” You give Sam a smile that could just as easily be for both him and Dean, but he chooses to believe it was just for him.

Dean smirks. “She’s one hell of a beauty. If you aren’t gonna do anything with that blessing, I will.”

Sam gives him a dramatic look of disgust, but otherwise ignores his comment in favor of eating his sandwich. 

After they finish, Dean heads out to the car, insisting that Sam goes and talks to you. 

He walks up to the counter, money in hand. “Hey.”

You give him a grin. “Hey, there. Enjoy the food?”

“Yeah, it was really good,” he says, sliding you a twenty dollar bill. “That enough?”

You nod. “So, I get off in two hours. If you care, that is.”

He smirks. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, if my charms are still working, I would assume that you care. I’m quite pretty, after all.”

“And humble,” he jokes, earning an, in his definitely not biased opinion, adorable giggle from you. “But, yeah. You’re right, I do care.”

“Good, then meet me at the bar across the street. And don’t be late, otherwise I might find another man willing to fall under my spell.” You lean on the counter and give his hand a pat.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I’ll be there.” He smiles and heads out the door, leaving you leaning your head into your palm, grinning like a teenage girl that just made plans with her first boyfriend.

**** 

When Dean sees Sam walking out the door with a smug smile on his face, he can’t help but don a smile of his own. 

Sam opens the car door, greeted by Dean’s all-knowing grin. “So, you got a date tonight?”

“It’s not a date, we’re just going to the bar after she gets off work.” 

“Well, whatever, we finally got you a lady. Make the most of it, but don’t have too much fun. Still have to get rid of these witches.” Sam finds Dean’s advice very out of character, because typically he would tell him to have the time of his life, but he’s too elated to make much out of it.

“I know, man.”

Dean pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s head to the bar, get you a head start to your night of fun. I’ll look into this witch coven.”

“Dude, since when do you want to do the research?” Sam questions.

“Ever since you started getting chicks instead of me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You were hitting on a waitress this morning.”

“Can’t do anything with her number now, so it doesn’t count.”

“You could call it.”

“Nah, not in the area. Not worth driving all the way back for a waitress.” Sam raises an eyebrow but decides not to say anything.

**** 

In the bar, Sam and Dean are sitting at a small round table. Sam is drinking a bottle of beer while sitting across from Dean, who for once for once is not trying to get laid, but is actually researching the case at hand.

“Alright, so get this. These moms meet up at your new girlfriend’s house every Tuesday and Thursday and are there until, like, four in the morning.”

“Where are you getting this information?” Sam asks, using his years of enduring Dean’s teasing to skilfully avoid giving into Dean’s provocation.

“Some noise complaints that have been filed over the past few years.”

“So these are for sure our witches, then,” Sam observes.

“Seems like it,” Dean agrees.

Sam finishes his second beer of the night and grabs one of the files in front of Dean. 

“Alright, so there are four witches in this coven,” Sam reads from the file.

“Do you think the chick you’re meeting is also in it?” Dean asks.

Sam rests his chin on his palm, giving it some thought. He knew that some witches were born with their abilities, and since your mother was a witch, it was likely that you were born as one, but that didn’t necessarily mean that you were in on the killing, or that you even knew that you had powers. He hoped that you weren’t, but he thinks that he also wouldn’t mind it too much if you were. He would never admit it to Dean, but he thought that if you were a witch, it might be pretty cool.

“I don’t think so, she seemed really concerned about the killings and disappearances,” he defends.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve got the hots for her.”

Sam makes a face. “Yes, I like her, but I’m serious. I don’t think she is.”

“Alright.” Dean puts his hands up as if to say ‘Sorry, please don’t kill me now.’ 

Sam sees you walk in the door, heading straight for the bar. After taking a few more sips out of his new bottle of beer, he gets up out of his chair. Dean gives him a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ look, which he gracefully ignores in favor of sitting on the stool next to you.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Hey,” he says giddily, causing you to come to the realization that he’s already at least a bit drunk. 

“So you’re a happy drunk,” you observe.

“Whaaat? I’m not drunk,” he argues.

You give him a knowing smile, but indulge him anyway. “Alright, fine. How’s the case going?”

“‘S good, we have suspects now,” he boasts.

“Yeah? I assume that’s all thanks to your hard work here,” you tease.

He gives you a toothy grin. “You know it.”

The bartender comes over and you order some fruity drink that Sam doesn’t catch the name of. When you get it, Sam asks to try it, which you oblige, of course.

“Wow, that’s good. I want one, too.”

“It is, but is that really a good idea? How many beers have you had already?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Two, but I started on my third.”

“Oh. Well, I guess you can have some more of mine, but don’t drink too much. It’s pretty strong, and we wouldn’t want your partner over there to have to deal with you being too drunk,” you tease.

He frowns. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s bossy,” he groans. “And annoying,” he adds for safe measures.

You give him a comforting smile and a pat on his arm, causing you to realize just how muscular it is, along with the rest of his body. You somehow didn’t notice before, but now that you have, it’s all that’s on your mind.

“Sounds like I’ll have to take you off his hands for the night then, huh?” 

He notices that your hand is still on his arm, causing a light pink to dust his cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So, once you’re done with this case, how long until you leave?”

“It depends. Could be a week, could be the same day we finish the case. For you, though, I’m sure I can arrange staying around for a bit longer,” he suggests.

“That sounds nice,” you admit.

“Good, I’ll work it out then,” he states. “You look beautiful, sorry for not saying it earlier.”

“Well, thank you.” You grin, slightly shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you’re definitely not complaining. Looking over Sam’s outfit, you can’t help notice how good he looks in jeans and a flannel. The way the sleeves of his flannel tighten around his arms doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Now that you’ve seen how he looks in the basic combination, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to think another man looks good in it. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Casual is your look, agent. Not to mention that shirt is doing wonders for your arms,” you compliment, causing a dark blush to appear on his face for the second time tonight.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in embarrassment, clearly not expecting you to have flirted back, and if he did, he definitely didn’t expect you to flirt so blatantly. He’s flustered, and so, he decides to shift the conversation topic off of himself. “So, where do you go to college?”

“Last year I transferred to Stanford, but I went to an in-state college that was far enough away from here before.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, giving you a small smile. “I went to Stanford, too.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, I was studying to be a lawyer. Until my brother came to my apartment and told me he needed my help looking for our dad, at least” he admits.

“You didn’t finish school?”

“No, but it turned out to be a good thing,” he says, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince not only you, but himself as well. You raise an eyebrow, but in hopes of not upsetting the cute puppy-eyed boy you’d met only hours earlier, ultimately decide against saying anything to contradict his statement. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance to accept his statement.

“I’m glad. Although, I’m sure you could still finish school if you ever wanted to. It wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan,” you suggest, laughing internally at the fact that being a Stanford educated lawyer would be his ‘back-up plan.’

“I guess. But I don’t think I could let Dean work all by himself.” The crestfallen expression he has on his face after imagining leaving Dean, paired with his puppy dog eyes is almost too much for you to handle. 

You put your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb across the flannel he was wearing. “You’re a good partner, Sam. He’s lucky to have you.”

A perplexed look flashes across his face until he realizes that you meant they were FBI partners, and he quickly recovers by giving you a small smile. You find yourself unable to think about anything but his gorgeous eyes, sweet smile, and silky hair, causing you to get that warm fuzzy feeling that all your friends describe when talking about their boyfriends, and you feel yourself returning a smile without even trying. It felt almost like a reflex, and you realized that you were developing a crush on the tall, sweet, doe-eyed man. This thought is even further confirmed after Sam puts his large hand over yours, curling his fingers around your significantly smaller ones, causing your heart-rate to pick up.

You don’t even notice the blush appear on your face until you hear Sam’s teasing voice. “Now who’s the one blushing?”

“It’s just the lighting, don’t get all cocky,” you try to defend, to no avail, though, since Sam’s mischievous grin does not falter after hearing your defense.

“If you say so,” Sam says, doing his best not to let a doubtful expression cross his face.

“I do,” you firmly state. A small lull of silence overcomes the conversation, and you search through your brain to search for a new topic to discuss. “You said you have a brother? What’s his name?”

“Uh, about that. Dean is my brother.” Your eyebrows lift slightly.

“No way. You guys are brothers and work together? That’s pretty cool,” you observe.

“Yeah, sometimes. Other times he’s a real dick, though.”

“I bet. But he seems pretty nice for the most part.”

“He’s a good guy, he just thinks he has to protect everyone, especially me. He doesn’t realize I can do things on my own. I mean I was in college without him and I did just fine.”

You nod sympathetically, understanding how complex family relationships can be. From there, the conversation flowed smoothly and you felt like you could tell Sam anything without any judgment, leading you to ask, “Would you, uh, want to come over to my house for the night? My mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” As you say it, you feel like you’re in high school all over again, and you start to regret the words as soon as your lips stop moving.

Sam’s eyes widen and he stays quiet, further fueling your regret. For those brief few seconds, your mind races and you worry if you came off too strong or if he simply isn’t interested in you past a drunk conversation and flirting. Luckily, he realizes the look on your face and saves you from any further anxiety. 

“Sure, that sounds good.” Once again, the infamous smile graces his features, cheeks puffing up causing his eyes to crinkle and because not only is his face beautiful, of course his eyes have to be, too. You swear, even if no one else in the whole world agrees, his eyes are so beautiful in that moment that they glimmer.

You beam at him and slip off your stool, grabbing his hand and leading him off to the door. He looks back at Dean to find him already smirking at him. Dean gives him a wink, and for what is probably the millionth time in his life, Sam completely ignores him, focusing on the way you’re eagerly dragging him out of the place and to your car.

****

The next morning, Sam wakes up in a room that is far too nice to be the hotel that he and Dean were staying at, even though they always got the best room. He quickly remembers the events of last night and smiles. Although, his smile fades when he looks next to him to find you nowhere in sight. He rubs his eyes, looking around the room at the posters and decorations that let him peer into a tiny part of your life without worrying if he was overstepping any boundaries. 

He gets out from under the blanket and slips off the side of the bed, walking over to your desk that holds a curious collection of trinkets and a book full of pictures. He’s in the middle of flipping through the book when he hears the creaking of a door opening, and his reflexes have him whipping his head to see where the noise came from. You let out a little giggle when you find his face looking like a little kid that just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He tilts his head as if asking what you were laughing at, but you just shrug, a cheeky grin still on your face.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sam?” 

For a moment, Sam is at a loss of words. “Uh, I was just….” He trails off.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Just wondering what you’re looking at.” Your words clearly ease his mind, as he picks up the open photobook and points at the picture he was looking at. You smile as you look at a highschool version of you with some of your friends at a festival. 

“It’s a cute picture. You dyed your hair, though. I almost didn’t realize you were in it at first.”

“Yeah, I figured since I was going to college I should switch it up a bit.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam continues to flip through the pages. You carefully watch his expression change as his eyes move around the pages looking at different moments of your life. He was glad to get even more of a glance into who you were. 

Eventually, he reaches the end of the book and closes it, setting it back down on its rightful place on your desk. He joins you on the bed, sitting an awkward distance away from you, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“What?” He questions, his puppy-dog eyes in full effect again.

“You can come closer, y’know. I don’t bite,” you tease. He blushes, as even more memories of last night flood into his brain. You definitely bit, but apparently only during certain hours of the day.

He scoots closer to you until your shoulders are comfortably pressed together. You take advantage of the proximity and lean your head on his shoulder.

“So, any plans for today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Just stuff for the case. I should probably check my phone.” You nod, and Sam thinks that the divine beauty of the slight raise at the corners of your mouth is unrivaled by any other sight Sam has ever seen, and he has seen almost too much in his short life.

He reaches over to the table next to your bed, trying his best not to move away from you and disturb your peaceful state of simple existence. He turns on his phone, seeing a few texts from Dean with more details on the case. He turns his phone off and decides that it wouldn’t hurt to stay here with you for another hour. You’re surprised by the weight of his head resting on top of yours, but who are you to complain? 

****

Unfortunately, an hour can go by very fast when you’re, as they say, having fun. Watching Sam walk out of your house pulled on a part of your heart that you wish it hadn’t, knowing that Sam would soon be leaving your not so small town and you would more than likely never see him again. You don’t think you would be able to handle not seeing him again, even though the two of you have known each other for less than a mere day. With these thoughts swirling around in your brain, all you can do is give him a small wave when he turns around to look at you one last time before getting into his brother’s ‘67 Impala.

****

“Dude, tell me about your night. Was it the craziest sex you’ve ever had? Is she freaky? Waitresses always are, man.” Dean’s rambles fill Sam’s ears as soon as he closes the door to the old, black car.

“Really? You couldn’t even wait five seconds before you start with this?” Sam complains.

“You haven’t gotten laid in centuries, Sammy, excuse me if I want to know if my little brother had a good time.”

“Shut up.” 

As usual, Dean completely ignores Sam’s protests and continues asking graphic questions about the ‘hot witch waitress’ until they arrive at the house of one of the witches in the coven.

****

Dean knocks on the door of the white two-story house, and within seconds is met with the face of a standard looking middle-aged woman.

“Hello, ma’am, FBI,” Dean says, flashing his fake badge, actions in sync with that of his younger brother.

The woman’s eyes widen slightly, but she schools her face back into neutrality quite quickly. “Come on in.” She motions for them to step into the house.

Dean sits down on the large couch in the living room, leaving Sam to remain standing next to it. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Of course, go right ahead. Up the stairs and two doors to the right.”

Sam gives her a grateful smile before he walks out of the living room and heads up the stairs. When he began his search, he had expected to find one hex bag, or maybe even zero, but what he hadn’t expected was three. He raised an eyebrow, assuming that all the others in the coven would have at least coordinated this better, but here he was, looking at three different hex bags.

He quickly grabs them before flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion or potential disgust on the woman’s part if she realized that he hadn’t flushed the toilet. 

Heading back down the stairs, he gives Dean a small nod to indicate his findings and to signal Dean to wrap up his investigation.

“You boys have a good day, good luck with your investigation,” the woman says, closing the door behind them as they walk down the stairs connected to the front porch.

“Dude, there were three hex bags in her bathroom,” Sam says, pulling the bags out of his pocket.

“I thought they only needed one? What’s the point of having more?” Dean inquired.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s more powerful or something.”

Dean made a sound of acknowledgement but said nothing in return. Sam took it as a cue to continue talking.

“So, I was thinking we just wait until a night that they meet up and then ambush.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed.

****

Back at the hotel room, Sam is researching more for the case, just to be safe, while Dean is out grabbing something for them to eat. Sam assumes that he’s gone back to the restaurant you work at so he can grab another glance at you.

Sam is deep into a passage on witchly powers when his phone rings, he assumes it’s Dean, but the small screen shows an unknown number. His eyebrows raise, but he answers the phone nonetheless. 

“Hello? Sam?” A familiar, but shaky voice asks from the phone.

He says your name as if it were a question, to which you quickly say, “Yes, um, sorry to be calling this late but I think there’s someone in my house.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, his whole face tensing up before quickly relaxing again as he prepares to defend the woman that he now found lingering in every crevice of his mind.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Just lock your door and stay in your room, alright?” 

“Okay. Please stay on the phone with me, I’m really scared,” you admit.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it,” he says, rushing out the door of the hotel room before realizing that Dean was still out getting food. “Shit,” he breathed. However, now he could finally reap the benefits of his daily morning runs.

“What?” 

“Nothing, just a slight change of plans. Just stay calm.” His voice was slightly strained and now sounded more like a moan than actual words, and if you weren’t so damn scared you might have found it sexy.

****

About seven minutes and lots of heavy breaths from Sam’s end of the phone later, Sam was at the front door of your house, gun full of witch-killing bullets ready in one hand, and his small phone in the other. 

“I’m here, you’ll be good if I get off the phone?” He asks, fully ready to somehow manage to find a way to stay on the phone while fighting if you need him to.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Do what you need to do, please,” you say, but he hears the fear in your voice.

“I’ll be done and up there as soon as possible, alright? Don’t worry.”

He hears a small sound of acknowledgement from the other end of the phone before he finally ends the call and goes into the house. He heads straight for the door to the basement that, luckily, he had found when he made his journey to the bathroom the first time he was over at your house. He opens the door and grabs a second gun out of his pocket for safe measures, especially since Dean was nowhere to be found despite Sam’s multiple texts.

He slowly creeps down the stairs, doing his best not to let his weight cause the stairs to creek. Fortunately, he makes it down soundlessly, but is now stuck with the task of creeping through the abnormally large basement without getting cornered by witches.

It takes a few minutes before he finally hears the loud chanting start back up again, and while he knows that he’s probably free to walk as loudly as he wants to, he still keeps up the stealth.

The chanting slowly gets louder, and Sam steadies his arms to shoot both guns. As soon as he sees two figures in the door frame, he pulls the trigger on both, not wanting to risk the chances of them performing some spell on him before he gets a chance to get them first.

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that there was still a third member of the coven, and as soon as he turns around, he’s met with the face of your mother, as well as a book harshly hitting his head and rendering him unconscious. 

The next thing he knows, he’s tied up in the same room that he shot the two witches.

“You’re not FBI, you’re hunters,” your mother says, disgust obvious in her voice.

“Like you’re any better. You kill innocent people,” Sam grunts, starting to discreetly rub the rope he was tied up with against the chair to cut it.

“Innocent? Oh, please, no one in this world is innocent, especially not you, and even more so since you’ve involved yourself with my daughter,” she spat.

Sam grimaces. “Oh, yes, I know all about that.” She smirks.

Sam is about to speak, but is interrupted by your voice calling out for him. As your voice grows closer and closer, Sam realizes his progress on the rope is not as fast as he hoped, and if he didn’t hurry up, you’d be in the room before he was free. 

However, to his dismay, you enter the room before he can free his arms, and all that he can think about is how awful it would be to watch you die, especially by the hands of your own mother. The nauseating thought is interrupted by a loud smashing sound that Sam immediately recognizes as a bat to the head. His head shoots up and he sees you, eyebrows furrowed with your eyes glazes over as you realize what you’ve done. 

He finally manages to get the rope holding his hands behind his back cut as you sink down onto your knees and start sobbing. His first reaction is to run over and hold you, asking if you’re okay, but he isn’t sure if that’s what you would want, and there’s no way in hell that he would want to upset you even more.

He settles for walking over to you and kneeling down with one hand on your back rubbing what he hopes are soothing circles on it.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” he comforts. “It’ll get better. Just know you had to do this, alright?”

“I know, Sam, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I didn’t even think about it, I just saw you tied up, and that was my first reaction. Am I insane?”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s fine, you’re fine.”

Finally, you turn towards him and collapse into his arms, and though he’s surprised, he catches you and holds you closely and firmly to his chest. The hand that was once on your back is now on your head, comfortingly playing with your hair, and the other is wrapped around your waist as you sob into his shoulder.

****

Hours later, you’ve finally calmed down, and you and Sam are in your living room sitting on your couch, along with Dean, the other FBI agent that had arrived while you were still sobbing, much to your later embarrassment. However, Sam had reassured you that it wasn’t embarrassing, and Dean definitely wouldn’t find it so.

After his reassurance, you could find no trace of embarrassment still lingering in your mind. It was surprising that someone you’d only met a few days ago was able to not only understand you like that, but also manage to diminish your insecurities so easily. You found yourself thinking about how much you and Sam seem to have in common and how easy it is to talk to him. 

You lean your head on his shoulder, and out of the corner of your eye you see a small smile on his face. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him.

“Oh, get a room,” Dean grumbles in annoyance, but Sam knows that he’s just faking it. He knows Dean too well to not realize that he really is happy for him.

****

When you wake up the next day you feel a warm presence next to you in your bed. You quickly recognize the presence as Sam, leading you to snuggle closer, resting your head on his chest.

“Good morning,” Sam says groggily, his voice breaking you out of the peaceful trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you reply.

Sam gives your arm a small squeeze before sitting up. You mirror his actions, ready to start a conversation, but are interrupted by the loud sound of his phone.

He gives you an apologetic look and grabs his phone to presumably read a text.

“It’s Dean. He has a lead on the case,” he states, to your annoyance.

“That’s good, I think. Would it be wrong for me to ask if I could come with?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at your unexpected request. He stays quiet for a few seconds before replying, “I won’t say no, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So, I have to be honest with you.”

You tilt your head, encouraging him to continue.

“My brother and I aren’t FBI, we’re hunters.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?” 

Sam swallows as if to prepare for the words about to leave his mouth.

“Monsters are real. Vampires, ghosts, all of it. My brother and I hunt them.” As the words are leaving his mouth, Sam is suddenly hit with a wave of regret. What if you don’t believe him? What if you think he’s crazy and tell him to leave?

You, on the other hand, were thinking about how happy you were that Sam was comfortable enough with you to tell you about his real life. In the future, Sam would probably laugh about how vast the difference of what was going on in each of your minds, but now, he was taking your silence as negative.

When you saw the worry on Sam’s face, you immediately realized that you’d been sitting in complete silence since he’d admitted the truth about him and his brother. 

“Really?” The one simple word brought Sam joy and relief like no other moment in his life.

“You actually believe me?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, I mean what reason do I have not to? It does sound kind of insane, but I also bashed my mom’s head in with a bat yesterday, so…” You trail off, realizing that once again you’d been using humor as a coping mechanism instead of dealing with your problems.

Sam clears his throat, now feeling very awkward. “Right… About that, are you sure you want to come with? You’ve already been through a lot.”

“It would probably help to get my mind off of it, even if more traumatizing shit ends up happening, too.”

He pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is.”

**** 

Half an hour later, you’re sitting in the back seat of the infamous black Impala with some old rock song that Dean picked playing.

“Sam, are you sure about bringing her?” Dean asks lowly, as if you couldn’t hear him from your spot right behind him. 

“Yes, Dean. It’s not like we’re leaving her to fend for her own while we go together,” he says exasperatedly.

“If you say so.”

You clear your throat, prompting Sam to turn around and give you an apologetic smile. You return the smile, but the annoyance you feel towards Dean does not dissipate. If anything, you feel it even more so after Sam apologized instead of him.

You decide to ignore it and stay quiet for the rest of the drive.

A few minutes and one rock song later, the Impala pulls into a driveway that you recognize as one of your mom’s friend’s house. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why are we here?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Well, Dean, I’m sorry that I didn’t want to overwhelm her,” he sasses.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You brought her on a damn hunt.”

The air in the car suddenly felt awkward and you felt as though you shouldn’t be listening to their conversation. 

“I’m just gonna get out and let you two finish your discussion,” you said quickly before opening the door and walking over to the porch of the house.

As you walked up the stairs, the front door opened, and the face of your old best friend from high school appeared in the doorway. 

She called your name, a big smile adorning her face.

“Lily, hey!” You said, feigning excitement to see the girl after three years.

“It’s been so long! Come inside. My mom is downstairs,” she exclaims, ushering you into the house and nearly slamming the door shut once you’ve entered her house. As soon as you enter the house, a chill runs down your spine and you can’t help but feel nervous about what’s about to happen.

****

You’d been in the house for a few minutes before Sam and Dean had even realized you hadn’t been sitting on the porch the whole time they’d been arguing, and when Sam looked over to see what you were doing, a wave of panic rushed through his whole body.

“Dean, she’s gone.”

“What the hell? See, this is why we shouldn’t have even brought her with us.”

“Dude, whatever, it doesn’t matter, we gotta go find her right now.”

Sam quickly opened the passenger door and rushed out of the car and through the front door.

He opens the door, quickly checking the living room. Nothing. He checks the kitchen and the dining room. Nothing and nothing. He checks all the rooms on the first floor and the second floor, then goes back to the first floor to check again, when he hears Dean calling out to him.

“Sam? Come here, I found a door to a basement or somethin’,” he calls out.

Sam follows the sound of his brother’s gruff voice and finds a door he doesn’t know how he missed. He’s usually thorough about searching, but he finds himself extremely on-edge this time. He thinks it might somehow, maybe, have something to do with his not-so-subtle crush on you, and maybe the thought that losing you would be one of the worst things that has happened to him even though he’s barely known you for five days.

He quickly pushes the thought to the back of his mind, at least for now, in favor of pushing ahead of Dean and heading down the stairs into the basement.

His mind is now absent of any “lovey-dovey” thoughts of you, but chock full of thoughts about how you could be dead right now. He never should have let you get out of the car and go inside without him. If you were dead, it would be all his fault, and he would never be able to escape the guilt of having another death on his conscience. 

However, with all of these thoughts, the thought that you could actually hold your own against the witches had somehow never crossed his mind. It definitely should have, though, because when he finally reaches you, you’re standing over two feminine figures that are lying still on the ground. 

He sees your chest rising and falling as the iron tight grip you have on the knife in your hand begins to falter. The knife clatters onto the floor as you look over to see Sam.

“Sam,” you pant, and he immediately rushes over to you and takes your tired figure into his arms. He immediately feels blood that he isn’t sure of the origins beginning to soak into his jacket, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now. The only thing he cares about is your safety, and preserving that safety for as long as he possibly can from here on out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers next to your ear.

“No, Sam, I killed my mom and then my best friend from high school and her mom in the span of not even twenty-four hours. I feel horrible.”

“You had to, okay? They were killing people. Maybe that doesn’t help you feel better right now, but eventually it will. Don’t beat yourself up over it, or you’ll end up hating yourself for the rest of your life. This is how it is to be a hunter, and I understand if after now you never want to do it again,” he rambles, trying to somehow make you feel better, which he knows is nearly impossible right now, but he can’t stop himself from trying. To him, it almost feels like someone is taking control of his body and making him do everything in his power to help you.

He realizes very quickly, though, that it’s not a person taking control of his body, but an emotion: love. The realization is scary for him, to say the least, especially because of his track record with girlfriends dying, but he thinks that he would be okay with overcoming this fear if it means you would be his.

A few seconds later, Dean walks into the room and finds himself met with the sight of your shorter figure being held, in his opinion, disgustingly lovingly by his brother. He’s happy that his brother has found someone that seems like a good person from what he can tell.

Dean whistles, eyebrows raising in approval at the sight of the two witches’ bodies behind your back. “Damn, and you didn’t even need my help. You’re getting better, Sammy.”

Sam shakes his head. “I didn’t do this. She did,” he replies, turning around and giving Dean a smug look. Dean gives him a look of annoyance at being proven wrong when it comes to your ability to fight, but ultimately decides to give it a rest, for today at least. He could tell you were shaken up, and he felt that he could sympathize, only a bit, though.

When he realizes that you had taken out the two witches on your own, he couldn’t help but feel impressed, and he confidently feels that you and Sam are right for each other. It’s funny that it isn’t your loving personality or quirky teasing that tells him that you’re right for Sam, but instead the fact that you can hold your own in a battle. That really is a more valuable asset in their lives than any regular person, so Dean is glad that his brother has been lucky enough to find someone like that.

****

Later that day, you’re all standing outside your house that now feels very empty without your mother. You never realized how much of a presence she really had until now, and admittedly, it makes you sad to think about, no matter how much you disliked her.

Unfortunately, it’s about to get a whole lot emptier with Sam and Dean ready to head out to their next case. However, Dean’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and his words shock you even more.

“Kid, how would you feel about joining us for a few more hunts, see how you feel? Who knows, maybe you’ll become a permanent member of our group here.” 

Sam gives him a look of pure astonishment, but all he receives in return is a smug look and a little shrug.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys with all the teaching me how to hunt and all that.”

“I don’t think we’d have to do too much teaching. You’re a natural,” Sam compliments, causing a deep blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Alright, Sammy. We’re gonna have to work on all that flirting,” Dean teases. “I’ll admit, I do agree, though. That was impressive. I probably couldn’t have done that on my first hunt,” he admits.

His unexpected words of praise make you smile, and your annoyance from earlier fades away. Dean could be a pain in the ass from what you’ve learned, but he could also be nice. You figured he was usually a pain in the ass, though, but you figured that you would be able to learn how to deal with it, or at least ignore it like Sam seems to be able to do.

“Alright. To be honest, it was kind of exhilarating, but also scary. I think it could be something I could learn to love, though.”

Sam gives you a warm smile, and gestures for you to go over there to give him a hug, which you excitedly accept, falling into his larger frame as his long arms wrap around you.

Dean grumbles. “Really? Again?”

All you and Sam do in response is laugh, much to Dean’s annoyance.

a/n: would yall be interested in this being a series or something ?? idk i feel like that would be fun to do

tags: @kozumesphone

[feelingthedisaster]

so, me and my mom's bonding activity is to watch shows together, so this means i get to hear her live commentary and opinions. i made a list of my favourites

(disclaimer: this doesnt mean i agree/support what she said)

she talked about jared padalacki and jensen ackles's hotness through supernatural, but not like who's hotter or aged like wine/aged badly, she talked about it in an analytical sense: how the producers used their physical attributes for views and how it changed their portrait as the fans reacted/the actores aged (she says sam started as the 'pretty boy' of the show but as it progressed it stopped)

she insists the actor of eddie was going through some health issues during the filming of season six of 911. her reasoning is that they didnt show his abs as much as they did in the previus seasons so they were covering something up (yep, she went "im not seeing my regular order of firefighter abs, something is wrong")

on the same lane, she also says he got better bc they did show his abs more in season 7

"is this by netflix, right? the intros are all the same"

she diagnosed castiel with autism (she is a psychologist btw)

intense staring at me when rosa diaz came out as bi (which i obviusly ignored)

*watching the harry styles fanfiction movie* me: "dont you ever do that to me" / her: "all your faves are dead"

a lot of complains about the recycling and predictability of the plot of supernatural

an incredible awkard car conversation about lockwood's survivor guilt (we googled his backstory) as the reason of his reckless/almost suicidal actions [she clearly did not want to add to the conversation but i guess the psychologist in her had to]

spn s8, aaron flirting with dean scene "they are making dean gay, arent they?" (didnt tell her anything, there some things you gotta let them figure out on their own)

*edwin payne exists* "well, that's a repressed gay"

[context: we watch shows in english with english subtitles but we are not from a english speaking country, she learned english when she was young and i currently go to classes] me: "i dont need to study for the english test i have tomorrow, i just need to watch one more episode. in fact, tv is actively studying for the listening comphrension part" / her: "right, then im not procrastinating work, im just helping my daughter study for her test then" / "right" / "right"

[insanesonofabitch]

You know, as a (kind of) new fan, I barely know shit about the full spn experience of watching shit unfold in real time—which obviously took years. When I was scrolling through Nov 5th tag, destielgate and all that, I found a fairly huge amount of people shitting on Andrew Dabb, especially for writing the finale. And I got curious about this infamous writer guy, like what else did he write?

Then I went to Google and saw that he wrote What’s Up Tiger Mommy. Then Hunteri Heroici. Clip Show. Road Trip. Bloodlines??? Stairway to Heaven?????? The Things We Left Behind????????

The Prisoner???????????

All Along The Watchtower?????????????

Lost & Found??????????????????

Like obviously, none of these episodes are perfect. But these includes HUGE destiel scenes—like pivotal moments that greatly affects the relationship and it’s development and how the audience view it. And so much of these are obviously, blatantly romantic. As explicit as it can be. Like the direct canon couple parallels? At least THREE times? You’re telling me this man is responsible for The Lovers Quarrel ft. Suffering Sam in season 8? “I’ll watch over you”? The Dean/Cas - David/Violet parallel???? Cas’ deleted personal heaven???? “Don’t lose it over one man”????? Cas giving up his Angel army for one guy?????? The Dinner Date?????? The Sam/Jess - Dean/Cas - Claire/Kaia parallel??????? The climax of Cain/Colette - Dean/Cas Mark of Cain plot line??????? “You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be”???????? The PURGATORY REUNION?????????? The start of THE FUCKING WIDOWER ARC?????????????

The Fucking. Widower. Arc. The stark contrast between that and Cas being barely mentioned in 15x19 and 15x20???????? Listen—and I’m just spitballing here—but what if this guy isn’t the fucking problem. You cannot convince me that someone who wrote all that, who contributed to all that, does not fucking see it…

…oh my fucking god. What the fuck were in those omitted scenes?

[dotthings]

Let me debunk a few more misinformation things about what Misha or Jensen say about Destiel. (Bolding some particularly relevant things I really want people to notice).

At Darklight Con Nov 8, 2020, Misha firmly said Cas's confession was about romantic feelings for Dean. (Notably, this is a European con, not CE in the US). Misinformation has sometimes been spread that Misha said Cas's confession wasn't romantic. Not true.

Misha then added that in his "interpretation" it was "unrequited" but continued on that "I'm speculating" and "I don't know what's in Dean's head. And Cas doesn't know." Misinformation has gotten around that Misha ever confirmed that Dean absolutely isn't in love with Cas back.

He then said the same things Jensen has said about supporting people's interpretations. They align on this viewpoint. (Antis don't want to listen, it's inconvenient for them).

He confirmed that Jensen was all in supporting Cas's confession scene. And that Jensen was told 3 months in advance. Since some have tried to claim it was sprung on Jensen at the last minute, a week before filming or something, and it was all an evol nefarious plot to lie to Jensen, trick him, and ambush him.

I mean, come tf on.

Jensen had three months to think about it.

And it's not only common practice on TV to have actors not know things too far in advance so their performances can be as spontaneous as possible, Jensen himself has said it's his own practice not to read ahead, so Dean's reactions can be as spontaneous as possible, and Jensen was in fact was given more than the usual amount of lead time about Cas's confession.

And was all in.

But especially interesting to me is how Jensen and Misha's comments mirror each other's take about the other's character.

Jensen and Misha have both told us they talked about Destiel.

Am I being clear enough here? They have talked about it. With each other. Often. They have an understanding among each other. (Yet antis seem to be in complete rampaging denial about this little fact).

And Jensen and Misha's takes often complement each other's, fit each other's on certain points, or even align via different styles and slightly different approaches and takes but actually boil down in essence to the same thing, plus both of them keep saying to fans...run with your interpretation.

It's like...both of them were trying to hand it to us, in any way they could manage, despite all those network shenanigans where it's not going to be acknowledge on any official SPN PR (like DVD set extras...and it seems like Misha kinda went, you know what if the network won't back press about this, I'll do it myself so he said things, here and there, to say what this was, dodging the CW sniper).

Misha's take: Cas has no idea what's in Dean's head and Cas doesn't know whether Dean is in love with him romantically the way Cas loves Dean or not. Jensen's take: in Dean's pov, because of Cas being an angel, assumption that his love is so cosmic and unfathomable no human can grasp it, so Dean has no clue as to the specific nature of those feelings for him. Mirroring!!!

(Side note...there's plenty of room here for an interpretation that Cas did know how loved he is at the moment The Empty took him. And I think that too...but that doesn't mean he knows Dean is romantically in love with him back, just that Dean loves him, period).

BTW, Jensen never said anything about how he played things wrt Dean's feelings for Cas, what he said was he never played Dean knowing Cas was in love with Dean (because Dean didn't know Cas was in love with him!!!!).

(And omfg I am so sick and tired of seeing Jensen misquoted about that, and it's never done with good faith motives, ever.)

It's about what Dean didn't know. It's about what Cas didn't know.

Which is the actual plot!! We watched!!! Dean and Cas not realizing the other one is in love with him is just so *chef's kiss* exactly miscommunication destihell. Was always part of the story, how many times did we talk about this ourselves?

Receipts below.

[holylulusworld]

Faking it all (2)

Summary: It’s date time. 

Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 7 – Saturday, April 20 - Alpha/Omega for Hire

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, reader was an omega for hire, love-struck Dean, nervous Dean

Words: 700+

Catch up here: Faking it all

A/N: This is the last day of the event and the last story I wrote for it.

SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist

Dean wrings his hands. He didn’t listen and came to your apartment instead of waiting for you at the restaurant. The alpha tried to act like a gentleman and pick you up.

Now the clock is ticking and he’s waiting patiently outside of your home.

“Y/N, I came here to pick you up. I bought you flowers and all. At the restaurant, you cannot put the flowers anywhere.”

You sigh and open the door. “I told you to wait outside the restaurant for me,” you purse your lips. “You can’t even follow a simple order. This is our first date and you already messed everything up.”

“I came here to offer flowers to you,” Dean grunts. “I thought you’d be impressed because I tried to be romantic. I even booked a fucking horse carriage to drive us through the park after dinner.”

You watch Dean despair. He looks at the flower basket standing next to your doorframe, huffing as he messed up the first date with you.

“I wanted you to wait for me at the restaurant so I can drive home alone. Most alphas want to pick a woman up, believing they get laid after the first date.”

“What? I—” Dean swallows thickly. His cock twitched in interest, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t think of getting laid. I only tried to survive the first date without fucking things over again.”

You cross your arms over your chest, simply watching Dean whine.

“Fine. Get the flowers and call that carriage dude. I won’t spend the night in a carriage. It’s cold, and I’m not in the mood to smell horse poop.”

“Poop?” Dean grins.

“Hurry up and get inside,” you open the door wider, walking with it to let Dean inside. He grasps the flower basket and hurriedly makes his way inside your apartment. “I got pasta, salad, and pie for dessert.”

Dean stops in his tracks to stare at you. “What? You cooked. But why?”

“I knew you’d not listen,” you coo and pat his shoulder. “Take off your shoes and coat and put the flower basket on the sideboard over there.” You point to the sideboard.

“You knew?” He quirks a brow. “How?”

“I knew the alpha hindbrain could not follow orders coming from an omega. And I knew you’re an eager puppy wanting to rub your scent into my stuff.”

His grin widens. Dean chuckles and crouches down to unlace his shoelaces. “I knew you were perfect for me.”

“Slow down and hold the horses,” you poke his back with your index finger. “You didn’t make it through the first date yet.”

“I…I don’t want you to work as an omega for hire any longer. I’ll help you find a better job or do anything to keep you away from other alphas,” he blurs out. “Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t want to say things like that. I’m not a control freak or try to dominate you.”

“As if I’d let you dominate me," you snort. "No alpha will ever tell me how to live my life."

Dean drops his gaze. He did exactly what he tried not to do. Now he lost the chance to get to know you better and win you over.

“Relax. My business went down the drain long before we met. The new girls did more than go on dates with my clients and ruined my reputation.”

You shrug and grab the flower basket.

“You don’t work as an omega for hire anymore?” Dean follows you hot on your heels. “Really? I mean…are you open to pups and nesting in my home? Maybe we can mate and look for a new home together. I got all these plans and…” He gasps at his words. 

You snort.

“Crap,” Dean curses under his breath. “Did I say that out loud? I’m sorry…again. Please, believe me, I’m usually not like this.”

You smirk.

“I swear!”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean whispers. He watches you turn around. His eyelashes flutter nervously when you cup his face with both hands.

“If you stop talking now, this can still be a nice evening,” you lean closer to peck his nose. “You should use your brain as a filter before speaking again. I don't need to know that you are planning to breed me like a horny dog.”

He chuckles nervously. It’s like you can see right through his cocky façade. “Okay.”

“Good,” you peck his nose again. “If you can tame your libido and stop saying stupid things, you can eat with me.”

“I promise to not talk about breeding or your job again. I’m an idiot, but not stupid.”

“As long as you’re not like your father,” you nip at his lips, making him purr against you, “we are golden…”

Tags in reblog.

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Title: Endearment

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Gabriel x gn!Reader (2nd POV)

Warning: slight description of nightmare but vague.

A/N: I went down a Gabriel rabbit hole and got inspired. No beta we die like spn women. 🤣 Fluffiness. Dedication. Gabriel.

Want more? Please let me know! I would love to hear from you. Thank you. 💛🩶

Waking up in the dark with a body that’s not much taller than yours surprisingly except it was incredibly heavier than expected. When you move, you feel the softest thing on you. You look and it’s a fucking wing, giant golden wings. Your mouth gapes open.

Unknowingly to you, Gabriel has not moved and remains relaxed but his eyes are open and his angelic senses are very much aware of you. He inwardly chuckles and preens at your reaction to his wings.

You slowly turn, shifting slightly to not disturb the wings as much as possible, to see who is cuddling you. “Gabriel?!” You stage whisper, seeing his golden yellow eyes watch you. He smiles softly at you.

“Hey, Sweet pea,” Gabriel quietly greets.

“Why are you in my bed?” You looked down at yourself and felt you were still in your PJs so you didn’t get up and do something stupid. You quirk a questioning brow at him.

“You prayed to me in your sleep,” he stage-whispers back.

You open your mouth to deny it, and then your eyes down towards Gabe’s wing without seeing them. You think about your nightmare, men doing indescribable things to you that make you scream in pain but you don’t remember what you said. It somehow turned good when Gabriel showed up in all his angelic glory and amazing battle armor with his wings out to defeat the bad men hurting you.

“I prayed to you?” You ask him.

He nods.

You roll fully over and get as close as you can to him. Suddenly, you realize he is shirtless and in boxers or shorts, you’re not sure. The heat crawls up your face to your ears.

Gabriel smiles. “I love it when you blush. Your freckles pop.”

This causes you to warm further knowing your face darkens.

“Hey,” he says, gently. “I told you. You call me, I’ll come running as fast as I can. I said I’d be here for you. I am.” He pauses. “I know I can’t be here all the time but I’m trying.”

You grin at his words and move to scoot up to be face-to-face with him.

“Hey, lovely.”

“Hey, flowers.”

Your nickname for him since his eyes match so many yellow flowers. Depending on his mood, the tone changes.

He rolls his eyes and you can’t see it but know he did. You know him pretty well.

“Thank you,” you say barely above a whisper.

“Always.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you lean forward and lightly rub your nose against his with a small smile on your lips. He returns the nose rub in kind.

“Come ‘ere, pumpkin.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you down then against him, so you can put your ear on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

“I’m not a pu’kin,” you mumble against him.

“Right, no gords. Check. What about puddin’?”

You sleepily giggle at ‘puddin’’, shaking your head.

“No desserts. Hmm.” He kisses your head and lays his cheek on your head.

“I like honey or, um, sweets.”

“Anything else?”

You press your lips together not wanting to tell him your favorite since you’re embarrassed. You shift up a little, putting your head on his shoulder.

“I can hear your thoughts, you know.”

“That’s cheatin’,” you mumble against his neck.

He grins and chuckles. He lays his cheek on yours. You can feel the smile on his lips as he says it into your ear. You hide a small shiver that runs down your spine, and then he says in your favorite language with a shiver you can’t cover up.

You bite your lower lip and place an awkward, small kiss below his ear as confirmation.

He chuckles, deeply. So much so that you can feel the vibrations in his chest. It’s comforting to hear and feel him talk.

“Are ya stayin’?”

“For as long as I can, Y/N.”

You hum your approval and move down slightly to cuddle against his chest again. “Your wings are soft”

Gabriel hums approvingly with a slight flutter from his wing.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

First heartache is hard; Jack Kline x reader

*Author's note*

Well this only took me two days to write which I do like when I can easily write a story that fast hehehe so @gabrielasilva1510 here is your ANGSTY Jack Kline request.

Warning: MAJOR ANGST, Character death, NO FLUFF AT ALL ONLY HURT, blood, violence (this is supernatural afterall so SPN level of violence). Basically get your tissues ready cause this is a sad one.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

___________________________________________________________

Jack stood outside in the cold night after a long training session with Bobby.  Now that his grace was gone, he had to build up his strength mortally, which meant getting punched and falling down a lot, and getting hurt whilst getting beaten down.  He thought he had felt powerless before, but his mind always went back to what happened that night at the church.  The moment he truly felt powerless.

The night he had lost you.

*Flashback*

Bobby, Mary and (Y/n) stood in the main lobby of the bunker still debating about who in the world would wanna kill Maggie.  After questioning all the hunters from the apocalypse world, they decided that none of them had any motive to hurt her, and that maybe it was just some creep or psycho looking to murder and innocent girl in the woods.

“I mean it’s not uncommon. That’s what happened to my mom’s sister once when they were younger. Some bastard slit her throat, raped her, and dumped her body over the bridge. That’s when I learned that there are more monsters in humanity than there are in the supernatural sense.” (Y/n) said.

“She’s not wrong.” Mary said supporting (Y/n’s) statement.  As Bobby nodded, they soon heard footsteps and that’s when they saw Jack.

“Oh Jack.” (Y/n) sighed with relief but before she could race up to hug him, they were horrified to see Lucifer coming up behind him.

“Hey~” Lucifer greeted with a small wave.

“Kid, what in the sam hell is—?!” demanded Bobby but Jack interrupted him.

“It’s okay. He’s here to help.”

“Him!?” (Y/n) asked exasperatedly.

“Yeah tigress, me.” Lucifer said booping her nose to which she cringed and slapped his arm away from her.  “Okay touchy-touchy Ms. Temper pants.” He said walking away following his son to where Maggie lay dead.

“Call Sam now!” Mary whispered urgently to Bobby as she and (Y/n) followed Lucifer and Jack while Bobby made a call to the boys.

“So you’re leaving dead bodies on tables now? Nice.” questioned Lucifer.

“We were waiting to give her a hunter’s funeral.” (Y/n) said.

“You won’t have to. My father he’s going to bring Maggie back to life.”

“Jack what are you doing?” asked Mary.

“What I have to do. This is my second chance.” Jack answered.

“Jack,” (Y/n) started.  “What happened to Maggie was a horrible thing that never should’ve happened. But it was beyond your control. You couldn’t have known when or where she’d be attacked and murdered.”

“But I promised her I’d keep her safe. All of them.”

“There are some things that you can’t prevent Jack.”

“I’d listen to your little girlfriend son. Plus this whole resurrection thing is kinda tricky. People don’t often come back as themselves.”

“Sam didn’t.” Said Jack.

“Yeah well Sam’s always been a little—in the head to begin with.”

“And like you’re not?” sassed (Y/n).  Lucifer snide at her comment.

“You said you’d do anything.” Jack told him.  The intense look in his eyes soon made Lucifer relent and he did what Jack said he’d do.  Placing his hand on Maggie’s forehead, his eyes glowed red and suddenly Maggie shot up gasping for air.  Immediately, (Y/n) grabbed Jack’s hand and took him out of the room and they came into the kitchen.

“(Y/n) what—”

“What deal did he offer you?” she interrupted him.

“What?”

“Back there, when you told him that he’d do anything you’d ask. What was the deal he offered you?” Jack looked at the harsh stare of her (e/c) eyes and told her.

“We’re gonna see the galaxy together. Like in Star Wars. But I said I’d only go if he helped bring Maggie back.” (Y/n) looked at Jack in shock.

“What? You’re going with him?”

“Well not just me,” Jack stepped forward and took both of her hands into his, gently stroking the back of her knuckles.  “I also said I wanted you to come along too. You always said you wanted to see the stars up close.”

“Jack I—” (Y/n) was a mixture of emotions.  Horror, shock, perplexed, torn, and upset.  ���Lucifer he’s…..I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jack asked.

“Jack, there’s nothing in this world that I would like more than to explore the galaxy with you, but with Lucifer tagging along. Something doesn’t sit right with me.”

“He’s changed. He really wants to try (Y/n). Would the old Lucifer have offered you to come along with us?”

“I know that no matter old or new Lucifer, whatever he claims to be now, he’s always gets something out of his deals. And if he doesn’t, he’ll take it anyways.” Jack dropped (Y/n)’s hands, his chest rising and falling as he tried to control his anger.

“Why can’t you be happy for me for once?!”

“Jack I have always been happy for you! Looking out for you! Besides Cas and Sam, I’ve always been the one that’s always in your corner! But you can’t trust what Lucifer says! Believe me I know.”

“Oooo, did I come at a bad time?” Lucifer’s voice spoke out as he peeked his head from the kitchen door before walking inside.

“Get out!” demanded (Y/n).

“I’ll admit son, you at least picked one with fire in her.”

“How the hell did you get back here!?” snapped (Y/n).

“Does it really matter?”

“Let me think, yes it does! Now quit stalling and tell him what you’re really here for!”

“What I’m—listen (n/n) I already told him. I want to take my son to see the galaxies, the stars, hell the entire universe itself. I’m done playing second fiddle to pops and his game. I wanna be removed from the chess board completely and not have to worry about anything than showing my son the wonders of the universe. With you of course by his side if you choose to go.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with you if my life depended on it!” (Y/n) snarled with a sneer.  Lucifer shrugged.

“Alright well, there’s no changing your mind. Let’s bounce son.” Jack slowly walked towards him but (Y/n) grabbed his hand and pleaded to him.

“Jack please, don’t go with him. He’s using you.”

“Would you mind stop gaslighting my own son against me? Geez that’s the thing with you women sometimes, especially teenage girls.”

“Jack. Jack please.” Jack turned to her and said.

“He’s my father.” (Y/n) stood there stunned and released his hand and watched hopelessly as the two of them vanished from the kitchen.

“(Y/n)!? (Y/n)!!” soon Bobby came in and he looked around and asked, “Where’s the kid?” (Y/n) buried her face into her hands and wept.  Bobby then walked up and awkwardly wrapped his arms around the weeping girl before bringing her back to rejoin Mary and the newly resurrected Maggie.

When the brothers and Cas returned, they had told that Michael had also somehow managed to come into this world along with Lucifer.  That to (Y/n) struck a chord in how Lucifer must surely been planning something.  There’s absolutely no chance that those two archangels would willingly team-up to escape apocalypse world.  And with Maggie’s death it—it can’t be a coincidence.  She stood up and walked off.

“Uhh (Y/n) where are you going?” asked Dean.

“To talk to Maggie.” Sam immediately took off and stopped her and he said to her, “Hey, hey relax okay? Look mom told us what happened and to interrogate her now while she’s still trying to wrap her mind about being resurrected it—”

“I know Sam. You Winchesters aren’t the only ones to have been resurrected. But I have to know just who killed her. This all is one too big coincidence for them to have come back and Maggie ends up dead the same day they both come through their own rift.”

“You think it was one of them that killed Maggie?”

“Like I said, it’s a hunch but it’s too big of one to ignore.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“You just want to keep an eye on me because of my impatience.” She snapped accusingly.

“That and I also want to find out the truth. Hey,” Sam could sense the anxiety running through (Y/n)’s body about Jack.  “We’re gonna find him.”

“He’s…..” (Y/n) trailed off before confessing her deep secret.  “He’s my best friend. I—I can’t lose him.”

“We won’t. We’ve got everyone looking for them. Now let’s go see about your hunch.” Sam and her walked to where Maggie was sitting in the library trying to process everything that had just happened. “Maggie?” Sam broke her silence as she slightly jumped and turned her attention to Sam who sat down beside her at the table that was once her deathbed.  “Hey, sorry. You okay?”

“I’m alive so…..yes.” she replied.

“Right. So listen, we know this is all weird right now but uhh…..before you died, do you remember anything about the person that killed you?”

“Does it really matter? I mean don’t you guys have a lot bigger Satan-y stuff to deal with right now?”

“Yes but it’s getting handled. For now, just answer Sam’s question.” (Y/n) said.  Maggie took a deep breath in before saying.

“I—never saw his face. But…..I saw his eyes.”

“His eyes?” asked Sam.  Maggie nodded.

“They were—unlike anything I had seen before. Those bleeding red, glowing eyes.” Once they heard that, both Sam and (Y/n) looked at each other in shock.

“I knew it!” (Y/n) muttered under her breath but at that moment, a sudden loud boom sounded off from outside.  It almost sounded like a firework or a bomb had went off close by, then the lights began flickering on and off.  The three of them went to rejoin Dean and the others as the front doors of the bunker began to jostle and bang loudly, like someone was trying to break in. “Ahhh shit.” (Y/n) said under her breath.

“Mom, Bobby, take Maggie out of here through the garage.” Sam said.

“We’ll buy you some time.” Dean said.

“What no!?” Mary said but Sam told her not to argue and soon Bobby had to drag her and Maggie out of the room to make their escape.  (Y/n) came and stood beside Cas who put an arm around her as the doors continue to jostle and the banging grew louder.  The two of them took out their blades as Sam and Dean readied their guns.

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally caved in and fell with a bang as a bright light shone through the bunker.  And soon walking in with his head held high was Michael.  Immediately Sam and Dean began to open fire at the archangel but being what Michael was, the bullets had absolutely no affect on him.  The archangel slowly levitated himself down to the floor from the catwalk entrance and Cas made the first attack with his angel blade.

But Michael easily overpowered Cas and had him flying over the table and across the room, knocking him unconscious.  (Y/n) took out her curved scythes and slashed at Michael.  He dodged each attack until he grabbed (Y/n)’s left wrist and disarmed her before breaking her arm.  She let out an agonizing scream before Michael palm-strike her straight at her chest, sending her flying and slamming into the wall.

“You really thought you could run from me?” sneered Michael.  Sam immediately went on the attack after (Y/n) had been injured but Michael easily overpowered him as well as Dean who more than anyone, put up a fight towards Michael.  But the archangel soon had Dean by the throat.

“How did you—” Dean started to say but Michael interrupted him.

“Get here? Easy. I made a deal. And now this world is mine, I can save it, purge it of sin.”

“Yeah cause that really worked out on your rock.”

“Well I’m not perfect. And yes I made mistakes, but hey second times the charm.” As (Y/n) cradled her broken arm she muttered under her breath in prayer.

“Jack. Jack I don’t know if you’ll even hear this prayer but—we need you. He’s here……Michael is here. Please, help us. He’s gonna kill us.” As Michael and Dean continued to talk back and forth of each other until Michael squeezed Dean’s throat even harder almost to the point where his bones could be heard snapping (but not enough to kill him).

As Dean was starting to slip away under Michael’s grip, the archangel was suddenly thrown back against a pillar by a familiar golden aura of power.  Dean let out a loud intake of air and coughed harshly.  Everyone looked up to see that Jack had come back.

“Jack.” Sam said as he was finally able to stand up.

“I heard your prayers.” Jack only turned to look at (Y/n) and when he had seen the woman he secretly loved hurt, rage slowly began to simmer within him.

“Yeah it’s me, yay. Uhh we done yet buddy?” Lucifer also said as he had appeared behind Jack.  He then tried to get Jack to leave now that Michael had been subdued, but it wasn’t enough for Jack.

First thing he did was walk up to (Y/n), knelt down beside her and healed her broken arm thanks to the teaching he learned from Cas.

“You okay?” he softly asked as he cupped her left cheek.

“For now.” Jack softly smiled but his soft side melted away as anger and rage now consumed him as he turned his attention to Michael.  His eyes glowed as he raised his hand up and slowly walked towards Michael and said angrily.

“You hurt my friends.” Michael let out a pained groan as he hunched forward, almost as if something were burning him from the inside out.  “You hurt my family!” Jack soon yelled as Michael screamed and felt his insides being crushed.  “You hurt (Y/N)!!” as he clenched his hand into a fist now, Michael’s vessel started to bleed from his eyes and his ears.

Everyone, including Lucifer stood there in shock at just how much power Jack held.

“LUCIFER WE HAD A DEAL!!” Michael exclaimed as he slid down to the ground in pain.

“Okay, game over. Hey buddy let’s….let’s split.” Lucifer said with a snap of his fingers wanting to lead Jack away.

“What does he mean?” Jack asked as he turned to his father.  Lucifer began stammering almost trying to play dumb but Dean soon said.

“They had a deal.” Jack then turned to Dean as he continued, “Lucifer gets you, and Michael gets everything else. He’s gonna nuke our world, Jack. Just like he did his.”

“Is this true?” Jack asked his father.

“No! It’s not.”

“Is that why you wanted us to leave? And why you knew (Y/n) wouldn’t come with?”

“Leave? (Y/n) what do you know about this?” Sam asked her.

“Lucifer told him they were going to see the stars. Then Jack said he’d only go with his dad if I got to go with them. But I refused because Lucifer would be the main tag along.”

“What you were just gonna leave the rest of us to burn?” Cas said as he was finally able to stand up after his fight with Michael.

“Okay, okay let’s slow down for a second. Are we forgetting who the real bad guy is?”

“Yeah trying telling that to Maggie dumbass.” (Y/n) snapped.

“What about Maggie?” Jack asked with a crack in his voice.

“You know you’ve done some dumb things Lucifer but even you must’ve known this would turn and bite you in the ass. Jack, Maggie saw the eyes of her killer. The glowing red eyes. Which angel amongst us has eyes like that?”

“Oh come on! Jack are you really gonna believe this girl!? (Y/n) is a hater she’d say anything to get you on their side!” Lucifer tried to point (Y/n) as the bad guy but Jack wouldn’t believe his father over her again, not after the brief pain it had caused him after they had left her behind.

“Tell me the truth!” Jack demanded as his eyes glowed and he held out his hand towards his own father.  Using his powers, he controlled Lucifer’s mind and made him verbally confess how and why he killed Maggie.  He also admitted to how much he enjoyed it.  When Jack released him, he shook his head before saying, “You’re not my father, you’re a monster.”

Lucifer’s impatience was boiling to a head until he finally let out his rage in a powerful scream as he revealed his glowing red eyes.  The scream of the devil shook the entire bunker and the Winchesters and (Y/n) had no choice but to cover their ears less their eardrums explode out of their ears.

“Okay…..I tried with you. I really, really tried with you.”

“Everything you told me was a lie.”

“Because I told you what you wanted to hear man! So what I killed the girl? Big deal! She’s just a human she doesn’t matter!”

“So am I!” Jack snapped.

“Yeah, and that’s your problem. You’re too much like your mother.”

“Jack.” Cas said as he, Sam and (Y/n) started to surround the two of them ready to attack, but Jack told them to stand back and that he’ll handle him.

“Oh yeah? Oh buddy, we could’ve been something you and me. We could’ve remade the universe. We could’ve been better Gods than dad. And I really wanted pal, I wanted that but now—if I can’t have it with you well….I don’t need you. I just need your power.” Suddenly Lucifer used an archangel blade and sliced a small cut on Jack’s throat and began absorbing his grace.

“NO!!!” Cas and (Y/n) cried out.  Once Lucifer had absorbed all of Jack’s grace, he healed the cut on his son’s neck and felt ultimate power surging through him.  Lucifer’s eyes briefly glowed the golden color of Jack’s powers and immediately (Y/n) leapt towards them and with a flash of light, the three of them were gone.

The next thing (Y/n) knew, she fell down to the floor and looked around to see that they had appeared at a small church.

“Really (Y/n)? Hitching a ride, you know you’re taking the term ‘clingy girlfriend’ to a whole new level.”

“Go to fucking hell!” she snarled through her teeth.

“Yeah, yeah been there done that.” Lucifer released his grip on his son and kicked (Y/n) square in the face sending her on her back to the floor.  She briefly rolled across the floor and as she tried to sit up, Lucifer kicked her hard in the ribs.  She let out a groan as she went for her scythe then just as Lucifer was about to stomp on her chest, she slashed his leg.

Being that the material was made of melted angel blades, it managed to cause him pain but not enough to kill him.  She backward rolled and twirled the scythe in her hand as she glared up at the devil.

“I’ll admit, you always were the more fearsome fighter out of the brothers.”

“Growing up alone on the streets of West Philly teaches you a thing or two.” She spat out some blood as she took out her other scythe.  She then charged at the devil, slashing at any chance she got but Lucifer was toying with her as he dodged every single attack that came her way.  After toying with her, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it forcing her to drop her left one first before punching her in the face repeatedly.

Every blow sounded off a broken bone on her face or nose until her mouth and nose were covered in blood.  He then took her by the throat and lifted her up.

“But you’re still human. And humans break easily. Shame though, you could’ve made at least a slightly decent daughter-in-law. But you know, I can always make more and there might be another one like you out there somewhere.” Lucifer then took her right scythe out of her hand and admired it.  “Been nice knowing you tigress.” Then he swung the scythe across her stomach.

Jack who had slowly regained consciousness after losing his grace, woke up to see the woman he loved being held by the throat and saw as his own father kill her with her own weapon.

“NOOOOO!!!” Jack cried out.  Lucifer turned and said.

“Oh good you’re awake.” He then dropped (Y/n) like a ragdoll and as she began to bleed profusely all across her stomach, her body already going into shock at the amount of blood that was already seeping out of her body.

“You—you killed her?”

“Like I said, she’s just a human. There’s dozens more out there like her, but if you’d like, I can let you join her. Classic Romeo and Juliet fashion.” But before Lucifer could do anything, a bright angelic light shone throughout the church and standing there was Dean with Sam close behind him.  The shadow of angel wings coming out from Dean who had accepted Michael as his vessel.

While Dean and Lucifer talked and fought each other, Sam quickly raced over to (Y/n) after seeing her on the ground in her own blood.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)? Hey, just hang on, keep your eyes open for me okay sweetheart?” Jack came beside her and grabbed her hands.

“I’m sorry (Y/n). I’m so, so, so sorry. I should’ve believed you this is all my fault I-I’m so sorry.”

“Not…….your……f-fa…..” (Y/n) choked out but Sam interrupted her.

“Hey, hey shhh save your strength okay? Jack, take off your jacket and put it on her stomach okay? We have to keep pressure on her wound.”

“It’s—it’s too……” weakly (Y/n) stopped Jack who looked down at her with tears in his eyes.

“No. (Y/n) we’re going to save you. Please let me save you!!”

“You—already…..did.” soon a bright light and a cry of pain echoed throughout the church and as Dean fell to the ground, they watched as Lucifer’s light was extinguished and he lay there dead.

Lucifer was finally dead.

“Is he?” Sam started to ask, almost not believing it to be true.

“He’s dead.” Jack said.  The brothers and Jack couldn’t believe it, finally after all this time Lucifer was finally dead.  Not sealed in the cage, truly dead.

“Dean, you did it.” Sam said.

“No. No man we did it.”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) did you hear that he’s really….” Jack said as he looked down, but something wasn’t right.  Her eyes were still open but there was no life to them, the soft smile was still upon her face but she was as stiff as a board.  “(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” tears began to fill his eyes.  “No, no, no, no, no, no please no!”

“Dean!” Knowing he had Michael’s power, he thought for sure he could heal the wound but just before Dean could make a step, he lurched forward in pain groaning.  “DEAN!!”

“WE HAD A DEAL!!!” Dean cried out before he too went still for a moment.

“Dean?” Sam called his brother again.  Dean rose up but his posture and the look in his eyes were different.  Dean looked around before saying.

“Thanks for the suit.” And then he disappeared, leaving Sam and Jack alone with (Y/n)’s corpse.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wake up! Don’t go please you can’t die!” Jack cried out.

“Jack…..” Sam trailed off.

“There’s hospitals. Human doctors can save her right!? Sam please call them!”

“It wouldn’t do any good. I’m sorry Jack, she’s gone.”

“No she can’t be gone!” Jack picked up (Y/n)’s body and wept into her neck, pleading and begging to anyone above to save her as he wept into her cold neck.

After sending a prayer to Cas about what had happened, Cas found them and brought them back to the bunker so that they could give (Y/n) a proper hunter’s funeral.  As she lay there on the table moments before she would be wrapped up, Jack stood over her utterly broken and lost.

The only thing he could do was lean down and kiss her cold blue lips.  Deep down he had hoped that true love’s kiss would awaken her, just like all those Disney movies and fairytales she had shown him could do.  But this was no fairytale, nor was there a happy ending for them.

“Jack,” Cas voice spoke gently to the grieving young man.  “It’s time.” Jack sniffled and he said.

“I’ll prepare her.” Cas nodded and left Jack to do all the prepping alone.  Once he was done, he carried the wrapped up body of the woman he loved in his arms towards her funeral pyre.  He set the body down on the wood and watched brokenly as the hunters doused her body in gasoline before Sam was the one to light the fuse and burn her body.

As they all watched (Y/n)’s clothed body burst into flames, Jack had no more tears left to spent, but his heart continued to ache him and he would soon be the only one to remain at her pyre even after all the other hunters went back to work to search for Michael.

*End of flashback*

“Jack?” he heard Sam’s voice say.  He felt as Sam came up and stood beside him.  “You okay?”

“As fine as I can be.” Jack said monotonously.

“Look Jack, I know it’s difficult without your grace. But Bobby said you’re really improving and soon you’ll—”

“It’s not that.” Sam looked perplexed for a moment but then realized what he meant.

“Oh.” Jack nodded softly and turned to look back up at the stars.  “Yeah, I miss her too.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“Jack, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. And (Y/n) would sure as hell wouldn’t want you thinking like that.”

“But I—”

“She wouldn’t have done what she did, if you weren’t worth saving. She’s had a rough life before we found her. Trust me.” Jack sniffled and wiped away his tears.

“It hurts so much Sam. My heart it—it’s like…..a werewolf had taken it, tore it apart slowly and then put it back in my chest with no way to fix it. Why? Why does it hurt so much?!” Jack gripped his chest as he lowered his head and sobbed.  Sam cautiously reached out and brought the young Nephilim to his chest, resting his head on top of his.

“I know what you mean Jack. Long ago when I thought I had finally gotten out of the hunter’s life, I found a girl I had fallen for. Jessica, oh she was a force of nature. And—I was gonna eventually ask her to marry me. Once I had finished law school and everything. But when I came back she—it tore me apart too. I went through the exact same heartache you’re going through now. It’s tough losing the woman you love.”

“I never—even got to tell her.” Jack whimpered.

“She knows. Believe me, women like her and Jess, they always know. And it’s also probably why she did what she did.”

“How do you do it Sam?” the two of them looked at each other as Jack whimpered brokenly as a few tears slipped down his face, “How do you continue to live when they’re gone?”

“One day at a time Jack. One day at a time.” Sam brought Jack’s head back over his heart and rocked the young man comfortingly as Sam let a few tears of his own slip out, also mourning for the loss of the young woman whom he called sister for so many years.

[alice1505]

I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.

• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????

• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????

• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???

• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.

• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)

• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)

• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.

There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.

Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂

[eisforeidolon]

Question: [After an aside about how SPN is a comfort show for the asker in dealing with post-military service MH issues] What characteristics, or traits, do you have in common with your characters from the show?

Misha: I'll start -

Jensen: This'll be quick.

Misha: Jensen can go on for hours with this. When I started on the show, the Castiel character was written like a real, tough badass warrior. And the writers and producers saw what I did with that material, and my performance, and they modified it a little bit.

Jensen: [referring to previous answer] Well, it's much like Larry King going I think we got the wrong guy.

Misha: And so, ultimately the character was this sort of dorky, socially awkward individual who had a difficult time fitting in? I feel like I brought that to the table. I will say that there is something about Castiel that I - this is not really answering your question, but, um, that's one of my talents - I occasionally have taken inspiration from an aspect of Castiel's character, which is that no matter the circumstances, irrespective of whether he actually succeeded or failed at the endeavor, he always tried to do his best, and to do the right thing. He always tried to do the right thing. And I have taken - you know sometimes people tell me that they take inspiration from the characters on Supernatural and that is one characteristic of the character that I played that I sometimes try to take inspiration from.

Jensen: First off, thank you for your service, my man. What's your name? Evan? Thank you, thank you for that. And know that I look to guys like you for inspiration. The - like Misha said, at this I could go on quite a bit about the similarities between myself and Dean. Also, you know, the, uh, dis-similarities? Is that the right word? Un-similarities? The non-similarities? What's the word?

Misha: You could say difference.

Jensen: I don't wanna say difference. I wanna say [listens to audience] dis-similarities! Ha ha ha, suck it, Jared! We like the same music, we like old cars, but I think deeper than that? I have a deep-rooted need to take care of the people that I love. It's one of the reasons why that quote that I said a minute ago, taking care of yourself takes care of more than just yourself, so that reminds me that oh, by taking care of myself I can also take care of other people. Because that's how I had to kind of switch that in my mind, whereas I don't need to take care of myself, I need to take care of everybody else. But you have to take care of yourself. But by doing that, it gives you - makes you able to do the things that you want to do, which is take care of other people. So I think Dean fell victim to that same thing quite a bit, and wasn't too concerned with himself, but was always concerned about the people surrounding him, the brother to your left, the brother to your right. So that is certainly one thing that I always loved about that character because I felt the same way.

Misha: There's another thing that was similar between Dean and you, which is, it came up when we did that western episode, which is that you both like to dress up like cowboys. Remember? It was like, Creaser - our cameraman - and I made eye contact like, I think, I think it was a scene where Dean was getting excited about his cowboy hat, remember that? And Creaser and I were like, [whispers] I don't think it's Dean that's excited here.

Jensen: I don't think he's acting. Well, we both have bowlegs. So there you go.

[iamawolfstarsimp]

Sup bitches im back

And I've come bearing gifts of yet another spn fic (I'm in my active writing era 😌💅)

(this is set in season 13 or 14)

So yeah enjoy

Jack was a curious kid, obviously. It was no secret the kid loved to learn about most anything and everything. Even just listening sometimes was enough for him.

Once Dean had gotten attached to the kid, he didn't really mind answering all of Jack's questions.

Jack was especially curious whenever he was allowed on a hunt with them, wanting to know everything about what kind of monster they were hunting.

On an ordinary day though, Jack was more quiet. You could usually find him in his room reading while listening to rock music (Dean had told him that it was the only 'good' kind of music) or watching cartoons on the TV that Cas had given to him from his room. Mostly, they all kept to themselves on the days between hunts.

But often times Dean would gather everyone in the living room area for a movie night while they ate dinner. Cas would usually make some kind of warm drink after they all ate, Dean always got to pick the movie (regardless of how many protests were shouted at him), Sam had taught Jack how to make popcorn and Jack used that skill whenever he got the chance, and Sam took the opportunity to just relax on the couch with them.

Often times Sam would fall asleep during the movie, and Dean would bitch about it afterwards as loudly as he could. Jack had recently taken up Sam's habit though. Every time they all sat down to watch something you'd turn around Jack was dozing off, usually leaning against someone's shoulder.

As cute as it was, Dean couldn't stand for Jack to miss the death star exploding.

Dean had been chosen that evening as Jack's human pillow, so it was easy enough to reach over and poke him several times in the side to try and rouse him.

Jack shifted over and ignored the pokes, snuffling into Dean's arm.

Dean repeated the action a few more times, until he noticed a small sleepy smile on Jack's face that he was trying to hide.

Dean hummed quietly but let the kid sleep, saving that information for later.

After the movie ended (and, yes, Jack did miss the exploding of the death star but it wasn't like this was his first time seeing A New Hope) they all stayed seated, relaxed in their spots making idle conversation.

Jack was now awake, listening to Sam and Cas' conversation about which star wars movie was the best. Dean turned his attention from the pair to look at Jack.

"I can't believe you-" Dean said, rapidly poking Jack's side causing the kid to curl up and swat and Dean's hand. "fell asleep during the best star wars movie and the best part of it."

"I didn't mean to!" Jack giggled, using one hand to protect his side the other to hold onto Dean's hand.

"Mhm, sure you didn't." Dean eyerolled, now launching a full on tickle attack on Jack.

Dean leaned over and dragged Jack into his lap, using one his hands to hold his outer arm above his head leaving his entire left side exposed. His free hand darted around Jack's torso, tickling as many places as he could. Jack attempted to grab Dean's hand but was too slow to catch him and couldn't predict correctly which spot Dean was going to go to next so he just resorted to holding onto Dean's forearm and trying to control his laughter.

"Do you know how to play guitar, Jack?" Dean asked while still tickling him.

"No!" Jack said through his giggles.

"Well, what we have here," Dean pat Jack's stomach. "is a good old fashioned guitar."

Jack's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his head tilting to the side.

"~Juuust gotta make sure it's in tune before I can play anything on it, of course." Dean grinned at him.

He held his right hand as if he had a guitar pic in his hand and pressed his fingers against Jack's ribs. He pretended to "play" the guitar, Jack's ribs being the strings.

He tested different ribs, listening to Jack's different laughs as he did so.

"Sounds tuned to me." Dean nodded. "That means we can play it now. "

Jack was about to make his protests known but Dean had already started, picking up and down Jack's whole side.

He threw in some light scribbles every now and then when he got up high on Jack's ribs, just to hear him squeal.

Jack promptly lost his mind, lost in his own mirth. He threw his head back against one of the couch pillows, cackles spilling out of him freely. His squirming intensified too, wiggling in every direction to get away from Dean's wiggling fingers.

He noticed that Sam and Cas had been watching for some time now, fond smiles on both of their faces. Dean noticed too and grinned at them.

"Do you guys like my guitar?" He raised an eyebrow. "Probably the nicest one I've ever played."

"Oh, I bet." Sam nodded. "I mean considering that you've never owned a guitar and nor do you know how to play, but if that one can give you the skills to play like that then that's one nice guitar."

Dean chuckled. "Wanna hear how it plays?"

"Dean, nohohOHO!!" Jack shrieked, arching his back. Dean alternated spots, going from right next to Jack's armpit to down low next to his hip. Jack's giggles jumped in both pitch and volume several times.

"I like this note." Dean teased. He scratched on Jack's highest rib, his laughter jumping up to a near screech. He squirmed violently twords the ground, almost falling out of Dean's arms before he was pulled back into Dean's lap.

"My guitar likes to wiggle apparently," Dean laughed, going back to the same spot that he was tickling before. Jack squealed again, giving up on trying to escape and just taking the tingly sensations overtaking his entire being. It was as if he could feel the tickles through his whole body, from his ears, to his neck, all the way down his torso and legs, electric tingles shooting down his knees, to his constantly moving feet which were currently kicking the couch in an effort to help give himself some relief from the sensations that were surging throughout his body.

After a few minutes when Jack had properly melted in Dean's lap from exhaustion, Dean finally stopped, releasing Jack's arm and letting him roll over onto his stomach. Dean rubbed up and down his back grinning down at the kid, though he couldn't see.

"You okay, Jack?" Sam asked after a few minutes.

"Y-yeah," Jack answered.

Dean rubbed a soothing hand through his hair, letting him fully relax.

"Hey, if you ever need any help getting Dean back, I'll gladly help you out Jack." Sam said. "He's ridiculously ticklish just like you." He smirked.

"Shut up." Dean glared at him. "You're just as bad."

"Statistically, Sam is less sensative than you are, but you and Jack seem equal in ticklishness." Cas held back a smile.

"You shut up too." Dean pointed at Cas. Sam laughed at them both.

Once again, Jack felt himself falling asleep but this time to the sounds of his family getting into a silly argument rather than the sounds of blaster fire and exciting background music.

Hope you liked

[artyandink]

Just a little thing from the entirety of my heart:

I have only started properly writing on just Tumblr since a few months ago (haven’t kept count really), but I started an account a few years ago. But in that time, I’ve managed to grow as a writer and a person, got a lot more feedback and followers and publicity (don’t know what to call it otherwise) and it’s absolutely amazing.

I’m not as technically skilled or organised as some of the other absolutely goddamn brilliant writers on here, but I can tell you that I’m so grateful for everything that y’all have done to build my little space here.

I’ve struggled a lot over the years, with depression, anxiety, some degree of Autism Spectrum Disorder and have had some great difficulty with socialising and keeping real friends, which is a bummer. But fanfiction, writing, original fiction- it’s all an out for me. To be someone who I’m not, to escape from everything in the outside world and have one more where people look at me and think ‘wow, she’s so cool’ and out there it’s ‘ew, she’s so socially awkward’ because my social battery doesn’t replenish very easily and I tend to expect the worst.

Now, I know you don’t want to listen to my rant about my hardships, so here’s a selection of people that I wanna thank for making me more confident and more skilled as a writer just in general, which I absolutely appreciate (even if you aren’t mentioned in this list, I absolutely love y’all who support me as a writer):

@zepskies - You’re such an amazing writer here, you deserve every bit of support and love that you get from your readers because you’re truly a natural writer and such an amazing person in general. I only improved after analysing your writing and putting it into practical use. Also, your writing’s like self-therapy for me. You should be really proud of yourself (and this goes for everyone). @k-slla - Same for you, Kerly! Another thing was that I saw you about on Tumblr, and we found each other but you helped bring me out of my shell and gave me the support that I needed, and I’m forever grateful for that. @waynes-multiverse - Wayne, you were one of the first writers to give me your feedback on my first proper, thought out series here on Tumblr and I’m so glad you did, cause I met an amazing person and got to see your brilliant work, again something that I took inspiration from. @jackles010378 - You, my friend, are such a good hype person! You also tagged me in the little ‘get to know you’ posts, and otherwise I’d be a socially awkward hermit, so I am indebted to you for it. Keep on doing what you’re doing and including me even if my social battery hasn’t charged. It’ll shoot up to 100% ;) @angelbabyyy99 - Thalia, I bow down to you and your ability to write CJ. And you’ve reviewed my latest fics and it hyped me up so much that after a section of writer’s block induced by being horribly ill, I’m banging out fics in a day or two that previously would take me weeks. So glad you found me, and I hope you stick around, lovely! @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior - You’re such a good writer, and I recently found out that you were/are/could be in the same boat I am, and I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. To know that this isn’t a battle I’m fighting alone meant everything and I can’t thank you enough for sharing your struggles with everyone.

That was pretty heartfelt, but I felt like I had to say it otherwise my heart would burst from being so goddamn happy that I found my community.

The SPN community is so goddamn nice?!?!

Love, Arty 💜

[july-19th-club]

Fic writer interview

@goingsparebutwithprecision tagged me in this one and then i had it in my drafts for six or eight months so now it is out of the drafts and into the queue

How many works do you have on AO3? a grand NINE

What's your total AO3 word count? 82,429, which is almost the length of a short novel.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Grace (SPN), Between Friends (Magnus Archives), Yellow Asters (SPN), In the Valley of the Ever Young (Umbrella Academy), and The Steward (Discworld)

I guess i'd hoped Another Journey (The Untamed) would do better - but I'm not at all surprised that my quick and dirty post-finale (by like a DAY) Game of Thrones thing didn't do well. On the other end of the spectrum, my quick and dirty post-finale-by-eleven-hours SPN thing did great it's my top seller. That's 600ish kudos so we're not talking phenomenal, but still. Goes to show I think the difference between how game of thrones fans handled the ending (buried heads in sand, wept and gnashed teeth, rent hair and clothing, ranted for hours on a slow monday worknight shift to me while i listened, horrified and enraptured) versus how spn fans, who never had expectations to gradually and then all at once disappointing, handled the ending (shrug, make some jokes, cry not because it's ending but because it happened, and then crack open the laptops for some quality writing about the whole thing). We were already prepared for things to be bad, so when they were even more bad than all THAT? We were actually, I think, in a way kind of pleased and satisfied. If it had ended well i think it would've been a bit of anticlimax after all that time. Whereas in Game of Thrones there was still the slim chance that they might turn it all around at the eleventh hour, so when they didn't the viewers just wanted to hide and lick their wounds. Produced much less immediate fic.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? It really totally depends on the comment and my mood honestly. If it's especially long and glowing I try to give it at least a little bit of attention but it might not be right away.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Tie between Another Journey and In the Valley - In the Valley ends RIGHT before a character death in canon, Another Journey ends right after a non-canonical character death. So take your pic. I don't tend to do death for death's sake, but for these two stories it felt cheap to avoid it.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? FINISHED fic? That people can SEE the ending of? Grace, which I now don't like because it's not complex enough and I completely mischaracterized Jack, but that's what Wishes Were Horses is for. Whenever I get around to it. You know.

Do you write crossovers? Not really. I love worldbuilding but trying to marry two disparate worlds is too much for me, I don't like having to do all the logistics. Probably a less pedantic writer would just not care about the logistics but I also don't READ crossovers because the logistics or lack thereof is such an issue for me, so.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? No but back when I was regularly updating Book of Gold (which I'm linking even though I'm probably going to retire that version at some point and start working on a better rewrite) I had a reader who REALLY liked Steve, a character I had no plans to write from the perspective of because I barely remembered him and did not care about him, and still don't really, and that reader would constantly ask me with waning hope if I was gonna do anything Steve related. And I'd avoid saying a definitive no.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Prev apparently has some good Cyrano de Bergerac smut which I now want to read. I personally have never posted any sex in fics, but not for lack of hoping someday to tastefully get it all out there. I just was raised catholic so if I say anything sexual where people can see it i get embarrassed.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I hope not I haven't checked lol but I only have nine and they're not well known so who give a shit

Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nah. When it comes to writing I don't think I could ever split the work I'd want too much control.

What’s your all-time favorite ship? I do not have favorites because the other ones might get sad . this extends to foods, stuffed childhood animals, and books in my reading stack . also fountain pens

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? At this point any of them lkajslkdjfasdf but i really REALLY doubt the immediate future of the Book of Gold, which is a shame because I have all the major beats mapped out in my head. It's just so much more ambitious than even the other long fics I have in my documents files, the scope is years instead of days or months, and it's a lot of planning and prep work that I can't help but feel I should instead spend on either quicker-to-finish stories or original ones.

What are your writing strengths? I think I have a strong voice, a good turn of phrase, that sort of thing. I also think that after years of trying I have gotten good at realistic dialogue that's not TOO realistic as to be unreadable, and I've learned how to be funny. Worldbuilding.

What are your writing weaknesses? Complex plotting, which sucks because I love complex plotting and want to do more of it. Also punctuality, which is not a writing weakness so much as a regular one, and the really big one is character relationships and consistency over time. I struggle to fit all those pieces together/remember whether they fit together when I started. This probably has to do with my social struggles in real life lol it's very hard for me to write characters thinking/believing/philosophizing/reacting differently than I would, at least without falling back into the 'everybody is me' mode that risks them coming off flat. I think my way around this for most of my writing life has been to write from one person's first-person perspective, which helps alleviate that problem, but I'm trying to do different things and expand my skill set/comfort zone.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? It's cool and I like it but I only know one other language than the one I speak and I speak it at a second grade level. So I don't do this much but I enjoy reading it. Love to copy and paste the language I don't know into a dictionary of words and parse it out it's like a fun secret treat.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Discworld TECHNICALLY . but really The Outsiders and really really even before that I have an unnamed undescribed thing that I hope to turn into a short story that is almost not at all like the fic. so i will not discuss it

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? Star Trek (I've written for it but haven't finished and posted yet). Perhaps True Blood. I have some ideas.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Again I cant play favorites BUT. It's probably Another Journey. It just came together so easily and the structure fell right into place and I managed to do a lot of stuff that was challenging in a way that felt successful. Book of Gold is next to my heart so close that I'm sure it's not actually GOOD and I don't wanna call it 'favorite' because it's a different thing. It's a sibling.

@whileyoureinschoolidothisallday do you want to do a tag game? and any of the other writing mutuals on here who've plied their hands

[horrorshow]

Finale hater but rebar lover. Please elaborate, bestie

i love the rebar.

i love that dean didn’t die heroically. i love that sam and dean didn’t die in a blaze of glory as planned. hunting is dangerous. accidents, even stupid ones, are bound to happen, no matter how good of a hunter you are. it felt real. shit happens. they started the series as nobodies, just some dudes trying to save people, and it cost them so much, there was nothing glorious about it. i love that it ended the same way.

especially after s12-15 and the whole ‘we beat god’ thing that felt refreshing. back to what i originally loved about spn before the angels made their entrance. i love the human tragedy of supernatural so much more than the hero/fantasy stuff. i love pain and suffering.

first time i watched it it made me think of brave new world. ‘i claim the right to be unhappy’ etc. they could have done so much with that.

and i respect what the finale TRIED to do. the parallels and nods to the pilot/s1. that it ended with the brothers. their intention to give us closure by showing sam and dean DID live in freedom and relative happiness for quite some time before dean died, and that they found peace when they were reunited in death.

but the execution of all that? TERRIBLE. they had 15 years of backstory to build on, but what did they rely on to get the audience emotionally involved? shock value and sad music. and at least half of the genuine touching moments and nods were added by jensen and jared themselves, those weren’t even in the script. the finale was lacklustre, lazy, poorly executed, cheap, and played too safe, meant to offend no one and to please everyone and in the process giving no one what they wanted. blegh.

i wanted it darker, i wanted sam to die soon after, fuck off with that normal life in the suburbs, they didn’t even let him SPEAK after dean died, who even believed he’d live a happy life after, why would he have a kid, did no one listen to him at ALL??? what the fuck even was that fight against god if they only replaced him with another one. WHY ARE BOBBY AND THEIR PARENTS THERE, who the fuck wants a heaven recreated and ruled by a toddler and an angel who will never fully comprehend humanity or free will. and if they wanted death, WHERE WAS THE BLOOD, where was the horror, where were the 15 years of backstory they could have borrowed from to sell us those exact same events in a meaningful and satisfying way that does justice to their story and characters. bc i truly believe they COULD have convinced us if they only had tried a bit harder. but it’s like they didn’t even try at all. its so disappointing.

[cheynovak]

Brotherly Betrayal Part 2

Dean Winchester x Y/N x Sam Winchester   

Warnings: cheating, angst, hurt, ...   

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

This part is just pure pain and angst

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

-- 

Recap part 1:  

Sam didn’t seek for a new romance but when he met Y/N she seemed to have everything he wanted in a girl. After introducing her to his brother they recognise immediately each other from a spicy night together years ago.   

After a year of fantasising about each other, one night they couldn’t resist the lust anymore, and give in.  Y/N decided to leave Sam, Dean can’t stand to see his little brother heart broken.  

-- 

The air hung heavy with silence, broken only by the soft hum of baby’s engine and the rhythmic tapping of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel. Sam sat slumped in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his mind lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. 

It had been a month since Y/N, had shattered his world with these simple words: "I'm sorry, Sam, it’s best we go our separate ways." The pain was still fresh, like an open wound that refused to heal. He had tried to make sense of it all, to find some semblance of closure, why would she say she cheated, with who did she spend the night.  

But the questions lingered like ghosts in the shadows. 

Dean glanced at his brother, his heart heavy with concern. He knew Sam was hurting, "Sam," Dean began cautiously, "you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever's on your mind, I'm here for you." 

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping even further. "I appreciate it, Dean, I really do. But I don't even know where to begin. It's like... I thought we were happy, you know?”  

Dean nodded sympathetically, his grip tightening on the wheel. He had seen Sam at his lowest, had watched him weather the storms of heartbreak before. But this time felt different. Probably because Dean felt guilty.  

"Did she say why she ended things?" Dean asked gently, afraid, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Sam shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. "No, not really. Just... that she hadn’t been faithful, and that said she needed space, needed time to figure things out. But I can't help but wonder... was it something I did? Something I said?" 

Dean watched the road ahead, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a beacon in the night. "I know this is tough, but you got to believe me when I say it wasn't your fault. Y/N's a great girl, but sometimes people just... drift apart. It doesn't mean you did anything wrong." 

Sam nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I know you're trying to help, Dean. And I appreciate it, I really do. But I can't shake this feeling, you know? Like there's something I'm missing, something she's not telling me." 

Dean's heart clenched at the pain in his brother's voice, the anguish that echoed in every word. He wanted to tell Sam the truth, wanted to confess the role he had played in Y/N's betrayal. But the guilt weighed heavy on his conscience, a burden he wasn't sure he could bear. 

"Sam," Dean said carefully, choosing his words with utmost caution, "did Y/N ever mention... not being happy? Like, was there something she felt was missing in your relationship?" 

Sam furrowed his brow, his mind racing to recall the countless conversations he had shared with Y/N over the past year. "I mean, she mentioned just... you know, normal relationship stuff." 

"I need you to listen to me, okay? And I need you to believe me when I say... Y/N wasn't entirely honest with you." Sam's eyes widened in surprise, his gaze snapping to meet Dean's in the dim light of the car. "What do you mean? What did she say?" 

Dean hesitated, rubbing his neck. But he knew there was no turning back now, knew that the truth would set them free, no matter how painful it might be. ”I eh, heard her talking to Charlie before. 

His voice filled with remorse, "Y/N... she missed the intimacy, man. And when you couldn't give her what she needed, I guess, she... found it somewhere else. I'm sorry, Sam," Dean said quietly, his voice heavy with guilt, "I should've told you sooner.” 

The Impala rolled to a stop in front of a motel, its neon sign flickering feebly against the backdrop of the night sky. Sam stepped out of the car, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion and resignation. He trudged towards the motel room, his mind still reeling from the revelations of the past hour. 

Dean lingered by the trunk of the car, his eyes fixed on the dimly lit window of the motel room across the parking lot. He knew what he had to do. As Sam disappeared into the shadows of the motel, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.  

He scrolled through the contacts until he found Y/N's number, his thumb hovering uncertainly over the call button. 

"Hello?"  "Y/N," Dean said evenly, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him, "we need to talk." 

There was a moment of tense silence on the other end of the line, the static crackling like electricity between them. Then, finally, Y/N spoke, her voice soft and hesitant. "Dean...What... Why are you calling me?" she asked, her words tinged with uncertainty. 

"I want you to do the right thing," Dean said firmly, his grip tightening on the phone. "I want you to give my brother another chance." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, the weight of Dean's words hanging heavy in the air between them. "Dean, I... I don't know if that's possible. Things became too complicated." 

Dean clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling to the surface like a volcano on the verge of eruption. "Complicated or not, Y/N, you owe it to Sam to try. He loves you, damn it. And he deserves better than to be left wondering what went wrong." 

“Don’t blame me for everything Dean! Last I checked you were there with me.” He knew she was right, he knew that his own actions had played a role.  

"I know," Dean said softly, his voice heavy with remorse. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I should've never let things go as far as it did. But that doesn't change the fact that Sam deserves better than to be left in the dark." 

“If you really believe he needs the truth, you tell him you slept with his girl, I think he is hurt enough. ” she hangs up the phone. For a moment, Dean was frozen in place, she was right, he didn’t have the guts to tell him. Little did Sam nor Y/N knew Dean chose this motel, the one close to Y/N’s workplace.  

-- 

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the diner, its cheery facade belying the tension that hung heavy in the air. Sam and Dean sat at a booth near the window, their plates untouched as they waited for the waiter, seeing how Y/N emerged from the kitchen. 

Dean glanced up as he saw her approach, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. She looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed and weary, but there was a steely determination in her gaze that he couldn't help but admire. 

Y/N hesitated as she reached their table, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her notepad to her chest. "What can I get for you guys?" she asked, her voice strained but polite. 

Sam glanced up at her, surprised but his gaze searching her face for, hoping she would meet his eyes. "Just coffee, thanks," he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. 

Y/N nodded, her movements jerky as she scribbled their order on her pad. "Coming right up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she hurried back towards the kitchen. 

Dean watched her go, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He knew he had put her in an impossible position, had forced her to confront the consequences of their actions head-on. As Y/N returned with their coffee, Sam watched Y/N closely, his heart heavy with longing and uncertainty. "Y/N," Sam said softly, his voice tinged with desperation, "can we talk? Please?" 

Y/N's eyes flickered with apprehension, her gaze darting nervously between Sam and Dean as she searched for a way out. "Sam, I... I can't," she said hesitantly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm at work, and I just... I can't do this right now." 

As Y/N disappeared back into the kitchen, Sam was left alone with his thoughts.  

-- 

After her shift she walked to the nearest motel, knowing the brothers would be staying there. She saw how Sam walked out the door. Knowing him, going for a walk to ease his mind.  

The sharp rap on the door jolted Dean from his thoughts. He swung the door open, expecting to see Sam standing on the other side, but instead found himself face-to-face with Y/N, her expression stormy and her eyes ablaze with anger. 

"Y/N," Dean said, taken aback by her sudden appearance, "what are you doing here?" 

Y/N's jaw clenched in frustration, her fists balled at her sides as she glared at Dean with unbridled fury. "I can't believe you guys would show up at my work like that," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. 

"You can't just barge in here and expect me to drop everything just for your needs," she snapped, her voice rising with each word. "I have a job to do, Dean.” "I know I messed up, Y/N," Dean said softly, his voice tinged with remorse. "And I'm sorry for that. But we need to talk. You and Sam need to. We need to clear the air, to put an end to his pain and uncertainty."  

"Okay, you want to talk.” She said still angry “Let's talk." Y/N crossed her arms. “Tell me Dean, the real reason you showed up uninvited after me telling you to let me be.”  

"The real reason?" Dean repeated, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "The real reason is because we care about you, Y/N. We care about what happens to you, and I couldn't just stand by and watch you push Sammy away." 

Y/N's eyes narrowed at Dean's response, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "Is that so?" she said sceptically, her voice laced with bitterness. "Or is it because you couldn't stand the thought of me moving on without you?" 

Dean winced at the accusation, the sting of her words cutting through him like a knife. "Y/N, it's not like that," he protested, “I-I’m trying to make things right." 

"And I appreciate that. But it's not that simple. It's not just about saying sorry and expecting everything to go back to the way it was, you don't get to barge into my life and expect me to welcome you with open arms after everything that's happened." 

Y/N took a deep breath “Look me in the eyes, Dean. And tell me you want me to get back together with Sam. Tell me you’re here for his feelings instead of your own.” Her eyes stared in his.  

With a heavy sigh, he met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Y/N," Dean began, his voice soft but resolute, "that night... it meant something to me. More than I can put into words." 

"I'm falling for you," Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Dean reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped Y/N's cheek. "But Sam will always be my brother, Y/N, I will always put him first." he said sincerely.  

Y/N's eyes brimmed with tears "Dean" she whispered shaking her head, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “Shh.” his thumb tracing circles on her cheek as he leaned in closer. "You don't have to say anything" he said gently. 

"Y/N," Dean said softly, his voice thick with emotion, “I will push my own feelings away. Just... just give Sammy another chance.” Y/N reached out, her hand trembling as she gently brushed her fingers against Dean's hand on her face. "Dean, I ran away not because of what happened between us that night," she confessed,  

Her voice barely above a whisper. "I ran away because... because I'm falling for you, too." Dean's heart skipped a beat at her words, the realization dawning on him that their feelings for each other ran deeper than either of them had dared to admit. 

His head leaning in until it was just inches away from Y/N's. With a soft exhale, he let his forehead rest against hers, their breath mingling in the small space between them. 

"Y/N, I..." Dean began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. Her eyes brimmed with tears, her heart breaking at the pain in Dean's voice. 

Y/N's fingers found their way to Dean's cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring as she caressed his stubbled jawline. Dean closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of her touch, the closeness of her presence. 

 "Dean, please," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "I don't want to hurt Sam any more than I already have. But I can't ignore what happened between us. ”  

Dean's heart plummeted like a stone in his chest as he felt a cold wave of panic wash over him. Slowly, he pulled away from Y/N, his gaze shifting towards the doorway where his brother stood, his expression unreadable. 

Sam's eyes flickered between Dean and Y/N, his jaw clenched in a tight line as he took in the scene before him. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths echoing in the small space. 

"Sam," Dean began, his voice trembling with apprehension, "I... we can explain." 

Sam's eyes betraying the storm of emotions raging within him. He took a step into the room, his gaze never leaving Dean's as he spoke, his voice low and steely. 

"I think I've heard enough," Sam said quietly, his words like a dagger to Dean's heart. "I'll leave you two alone." With a heavy heart, Sam turned on his heel and disappeared from the room, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the wake of his departure. 

"Sam, wait!" Y/N called out, her voice thick with emotion. Sam paused in his tracks, his back still turned towards her. Sam, please," Y/N pleaded, her voice trembling with urgency. "Let me explain." 

Sam turned to face her, his eyes weary but filled with a flicker of hope. "Explain what, Y/N?" he asked quietly, “How you forget to mention you slept with my brother? That's worse than being cheated on.”  

"I'm sorry, Sam," she said softly, tears glistening in her eyes. "Sam, I..." Y/N began, her voice catching in her throat as she struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It was a mistake, a moment of weakness." 

Sam's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in frustration. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You call sleeping with my brother a mistake? But you just confessed you’re love for him!" He points at their room.  

Y/N winced at the harshness in Sam's tone, the guilt and remorse swirling within her like a tempest. "Sam, I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen." 

Sam's gaze softened slightly at the sight of Y/N's tears, his own heart heavy with conflicting emotions. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness, "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel." 

Y/N reached out, her hand trembling as she gently trying to grab Sam's arm, but he pulled away "Sam, please," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. "Please don't shut Dean out. Please give me and him a chance to make things right." 

"I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"Sam," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you want me to leave, tell me what I need to do, what you need?" 

Sam's gaze softened at her words, his heart aching with the pain of their fractured relationship. He reached out, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently.  Sam replied quietly, his voice tinged with sadness, "I don't want you to leave. But I need some time to think. And then I need to talk to Dean."  

-- 

Dean and Y/N sat in silence on the end of the bed waiting for Sam to return.  

When he walked in the room Y/N gave a soft hurt smile to Sam and left the room to take a walk in the cold night. Leaving the brothers, giving time to talk.  

Sam's voice cut through the tense silence, his eyes fixed on Dean with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Dean," he began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion, "I need you to promise you’ll be honest with me. I need you to tell me, everything Dean.”  

“Starting with, why... why Y/N?" 

Dean's heart clenched at the question, the weight of Sam's gaze bearing down on him. He took a deep breath. "I wish I could give you a simple answer. But the truth is... it's complicated." 

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, his expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "Complicated how?" he pressed, his tone tinged with urgency.” You know we had a... a night together years before you met her, right.”  

Sam nodded. "And since the moment you introduced me to Y/N, she's been on my mind. Constantly. 24/7. I couldn’t stop thinking about that night Sammy." Dean scratched his neck not knowing is continuing was the right thing to do.  

"When Charlie came over, I overheard Y/N talking about her sex life." Sam's eyes widened in surprise, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension. 

Dean hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. "Y/N mentioned how different we were. She compared the two of us." he explained carefully, "and how she wasn't really happy, now.” 

He met his brother's gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity and remorse. “And then the three of us watched a movie together. And... and when Charlie left, we stayed for another movie and then... I kissed her.” 

“Is that when...” Sam couldn’t finish that question. “No, she stopped it and took off. We were distant for a while.” Sam nodded, remembering the awkward tension in the bunker. “So, when?” Dean searched his face, trying to see if he really wanted to know.  

“The night after the bar, you two went home early together, you fell asleep when Y/N dressed up all sexy for you..." Dean began, his voice faltering as he recounted the events of that fateful evening, "I got home earlier, Y/N was in the kitchen, upset, couldn’t sleep, still in the babydoll dress.”  

Dean swallowed before continuing. “She was surprised to see I came home. I told her I didn’t sleep with that girl from the bar, I couldn’t, I thought of her all the time. And she said you fell asleep before... That's when it happened. Y/N and I... we... " 

Dean couldn't finish his sentence “Just once, Sammy.”   “Yeah,” he looked at the floor.” Because she left the day after.”  

After a deep sigh Sam continued "I trusted you, Dean," his voice breaking with the weight of his betrayal. "I trusted both of you." Dean felt his heart shatter at the pain in Sam's voice, the guilt and remorse consuming him like a wildfire. "Sam, I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen." 

“But, you have to believe me she means more to me than just another one-night plaything. I wouldn’t have done it if it was just sex. I tried to fight it I really did. But I guess we had a little too much to drink to hold back.”  

But Sam shook his head, his gaze filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. "I don't know if I can forgive you for this, Dean," he said quietly,  

“I’m eh, going to go away for a while. I need time to think. I need you two to give me some space.” Sam said getting up ready to leave. “I’ll eh stay at Jody’s for a while.”  

Dean nodded and watched his brother leave the room.  

---

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:

@yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

writing spn scenes at 5am bc I cant sleep :D

this isnt gonna b well-written...

also thanks to @brainrotarchive for pushing me to think abt how the initial reveal of all this would actually go! this was fun! and it hurt! a LOT

(set after all the current postcanon bs resolves, or in a universe where 15x20 just didn't happen)

*Sam is washing dishes in the Bunker late at night when he hears Dean quietly sobbing from the garage. Sam sighs, puts down the towel and goes to check on Dean*

*Dean is sitting on the step between the garage and the rest of the bunker, surrounded by empty beer bottles. his head is resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped around himself in a kind of hug, his shoulders are shaking as he cries*

Sam (assuming this is about Cas again): ...hey Dean. what's up?

Dean (through tears, slurred): how did it get to this, Sammy?

Sam (he wasn't expecting this response): *stepping towards his brother* what do you mean?

Dean (starting straight ahead into the unlit garage): when we die, where will we go? we've been to Heaven, we've been to Hell, Purgatory, fuck. We've fought our way out of ALL OF THEM SAMMY, WE'VE FOUGHT GOD!!! we cant even DIE now!

*Dean is getting hysterical, but Sam has sat down next to him, eyes wide, listening intently. He'd pondered this now and then, but if he's being honest he's afraid to dwell on it*

Dean (getting up and beginning to pace): we know every place we could go when we die! we know ALL of them, and we know everything about them. that's not how humans are supposed to live, Sammy, that's not how any of this is supposed to work!

*Dean pauses and almost sobs/gags as a thought strikes him*

Dean (still ranting): how do we keep going from here?! what are we supposed to do?! we used to- - we used to hunt monsters, demons, and now we've become the thing we were trying to wipe out!

*Dean is nearly screaming at this point, crying like we rarely/never see him cry*

Dean (sob-yelling): this whole thing?! this-- this defying death? cheating death!? its against the NATURAL ORDER, we were supposed to KILL things that- we were supposed to PREVENT THIS from-- WE WERE SUPPOSED TO STOP THIS, SAMMY!

Dean (fully in hysterics, breaking down): WHATS DEAD STAYS DEAD, RIGHT?! THATS WHAT DAD ALWAYS TOLD US. WELL NOW LOOK AT US?! WE DONT STAY DEAD. WE'VE DEATH AT EVERY- we've- we fought GOD Sammy, and Cas-

(Dean stops to choke on his tears a bit)

Dean(cont): Cas was an ANGEL Sammy he was a fucking- he was- that shouldnt even be- - we shouldnt --

(there's a pause as Dean almost undetectably mouths Cas' name again. Sam waits, having gone from intrigued to more than a little disturbed by his brother's behavior)

Sam (hesistant, nervously, not even sure what he's about to say): Dean, I-

Dean (back turned): we shouldve- shouldve stayed dead the first time. then-

*Dean half-stumbles out the door to get some air, seemingly out of words & tears. he is really drunk. Sam gets up and follows him.*

*Sam finds Dean outside, back to him, swaying on his feet, hugging his chest. Sam goes up behind his brother, maybe hoping to coax him to bed and finish this VERY IMPORTANT CONVERSATION when he's sober*

Sam (gently, quietly, still unsure of what exactly he's going to say): Dean, I think- I mean-- this. -I think we should--

*Dean whirls on Sam, a manic fire in his eyes, knife drawn, and slashes Sam across the chest, slicing his shirt open. Sam stumbles back in shock and fear*

Dean (reeling now, but seeing he appears to have missed his strike): See, Sammy?! How do you even know that would have cut you? how do you know the knife wouldn't fucking break?! we don't know ANYTHING Sammy we're nOT- WE'RE NOT-

*Dean crumples as the weight of his emotions and his violent attack all hit him at once, falling forward onto Sam's shoulder as his knees buckle and sobs wrack his whole body. Sam allows himself to fall to his knees and support his brother, rubbing Dean's back gently*

Sam (about to say something): -

*Sam suddenly gasps and coughs, red staining his lips. Dean's knife had hit after all, and with the adrenaline fading, Sam realizes that the cut is deep and well-placed. He begins to fall backwards*

*through the haze of alcohol and grief, Dean slowly realizes what's going on. suddenly alert, he grabs Sam by the shoulders and prevents him from falling backwards*

Dean: SAMMY!

Sam (eyes wide, choking on blood, realizing with horror that the prophecy of "brother killing brother" finally came true in this moment): Dean- I- i- *cough*

*cut to Sam's POV. he's looking up at Dean, whose expression goes from panicked and horrified to suddenly stone-cold serious*

Dean (voice unnervingly level): Sammy. Don't Die.

Sam (bewildered, fading fast): wh-what?

Dean (looking Sam directly in the eye, suddenly steady and sure of himself after his earlier outburst): We don't have to do this again Sammy. You don't have to. Just keep your eyes open. And Dont. Die.

*There's a long beat. the two brothers sit, half-crouched, facing each other, Dean half-holding Sam. Sam struggles to keep his eyes open, and then realizes, abruptly, that its not a struggle. Sam takes a breath, then another. Then looks down at his sliced shirt and the still-present wound that is already beginning to stop bleeding.*

*Sam looks up at Dean, breath becoming shaky, horror growing in his eyes as he finally accepts the truth*

Sam (choked, in shock): Oh god

Sam (helplessly, tears gathering at the back of his throat as he pulls closer to his brother, just now fully understanding what he was saying): what... what now, Dean?

Dean (Pulling Sam up so that his chin rests on Dean's shoulder, the two now fully hugging in the dust outside the bunker): I dunno Sammy... I dunno

*the camera pulls back to show the pitch darkness around the pair, showcasing how truly alone they are with what they've become*