#supernatural-explosion

[shanastoryteller]

let the beltane fires burn

The Halliwells are descended from Melinda Warren, are the branch in which the greatest power resides, the line that would birth the most powerful witches to walk the earth.

It's not the only line.

Deanna knows about hunters, knows what they don’t know and don’t understand and that they killed her family. But Samuel didn’t kill her family. Samuel’s a good man who saves innocents, the same way she was raised to, if not how she was raised to do it.

She’s all alone. It’s not safe to be a witch.

The day before her wedding, she binds her powers.

When Mary is a year and a day, she does the same to her. It’s safer this way. Better. The world is so unkind to witches, even ones like them, born into it, with their power baked into their blood. Better to fight evil with bullets and knives than the strange terrible thing she’s destined to give her daughter, that her daughter is destined to pass along to her own daughters.

She never tells Samuel. There’s no reason to.

When Mary is old enough, when she’s talking of running and rebelling and all those things Samuel thinks will never come to pass and Deanna knows almost certainly will – running and rebelling is in her blood as surely as the magic, but there’s no binding potion for that – she tells her daughter what they are. What she’ll have to do to keep her future daughters safe, if she has them. It’s the only potion she ever teaches Mary how to brew, the only one she’ll ever need.

The day after Dean’s first birthday, Marry brews the potion and feeds it to him. He cries more after, doesn’t settle as quickly, and John worries and Mary reassures him and tells herself she’s done the right thing. Whatever it is that Dean feels he’s lost, he’s better off without it. She’s going to be normal. Her children are going to be normal.

She intends to do the same for Sammy, but she burns above his crib when he’s six months old.

~

John sees Sammy levitate a toy towards him when he’s two years old and shouts so loudly that he drops it, tears running down his face and wailing in the face of his father’s anger. Dean comes running from the other room and reaches for Sammy, letting his brother’s chubby fingers tangle in his shirt. “What’s wrong?” he asks, eyes wide.

He doesn’t answer, rubbing his hand over his face and heart pounding in his chest.

What did that demon do to his son?

What did it turn him into?

Is Sammy even human anymore?

He doesn’t react to salt, to holy water, to silver. John loses his temper every time something moves inexplicably and eventually it stops, by the time Sam’s in kindergarten he’s just like all the other kids.

John watches, fear and suspicion and something uglier caught up inside of him.

What is his son?

~

Sam figures out young that he’s a freak.

Dad and Dean just think he’s weak, just think he has nightmares, and he lets them. He only practices the telekinesis when he’s alone and every time he almost gathers the courage to tell his brother or father about it, to finally come clean, he’s viciously reminded how much they hate the things they hunt, how they’d never accept it, accept him, and as soon as he tells them what he is, he’ll lose them.

He doesn’t know what he is, really. Only that he’s not normal.

Eventually he stops seeing things in his sleep, instead getting them when he’s awake, more vivid and real than the monsters that plague his dreams. He sees people being hurt, people who need help, and it goes against everything he’s been taught to leave them to their fate.

But how can he explain it to his family? He can’t.

He’s thirteen the first time he sneaks out and saves a woman from one of his visions, finding her in the dark alley he’d seen her die in. He puts a bullet in the man’s chest, but it barely stops him, and then she and him both are getting a fireball thrown at them.

Sam shoves his hand in front of him, pushing back against the heat, refusing to die the same way his mother died.

The fireball returns to the man, catching him in the chest and he screams, disappearing into the fire until he’s nothing more than a smudge on the ground.

“Wow,” the woman breathes. Sam turns to her, trying to come up with some sort of explanation, when she continues, “I’ve never met a witch with active powers before.”

“I’m not a witch,” he says automatically, thinking of bargains made with demons, of hex bags and rotting meat and blood sacrificed.

She looks between him and the smudge on the ground incredulously. “Are you sure about that?”

Yes. No.

He doesn’t know what he is.

She leads him back to her apartment, stacks books into hix arms, and then makes him a sandwich when his stomach rumbles. His age worries her, his ignorance worries her even more, and everything she’s saying sounds like kooky new age bullshit except for the way that it explains everything he’s never been able to.

There are witches and demons and monsters nothing like anything his father’s ever talked about.

~

It’s easy to research, at least, because his dad thinks there’s a kernel of truth in every piece of supernatural bullshit. Dean makes fun of him for digging into girly, feel-good crap rather than the harder stuff, but his dad just seems relieved he’s taking an interest all. Sam starts taking notes, keeps them all in a folder until Dad buys him a journal, patting his back when he hands it over like it’s a rite of passage.

To Dad, it’s his first hunting journal.

Sam runs his hand down the soft leather spine and knows he’s starting his book of shadows.

The visions don’t stop. He saves more innocents, some witches and some mortal, and keeps the record of all the creatures he’s killed in Latin to discourage Dad and Dean from snooping. He uses his telekinesis on hunts only when there’s no other option, only when there’s someone’s life on the line, and he’s as careful as he can be not to get caught.

It should be a relief, to find out there are other people like him, to know that he’s a force for good in the world.

There’s no way he can explain the existence of a different type of witches to his father without putting a target on their backs.

Some witches have been targeted by hunters, ones who were trying to help but got caught in the crossfire, ones that had turned evil and needed to be stopped, but it’s not often he finds a witch that regards hunters with anything but fear. At least when his family are the ones sniffing around, he can give them a heads up, can tell them how to avoid their attention.

He’s had a lot of practice, after all.

~

Sam is sixteen when he’s a little too slow.

The innocent is safe and the demon is killed, but his chest is torn open and he’s bleeding out on the pavement.

“Oh no, oh no,” the woman he’d saved chants, pressing her hands against him, even though it’s pointless, even though it just sends a bolt of pain through him. Fuck. He doesn’t want to die. Dean is going to devastated. “Paige! Help me! Paige!”

There’s a bright light in the corner of his eyes and an woman around his dad’s age with bright hair red hair is leaning over him.

Then she touches him, but her touch doesn’t hurt.

He looks down and the wound on his chest closes, skin clear and unharmed, pain retreating to only a memory.

“He saved me,” the woman says. “He can move things!”

The redhead’s eyebrows rise. “You have active powers?”

They’re always so surprised by that. Sam’s more impressed with the fact that she just healed him. “I get premonitions too. What are you?”

“You get,” she starts then cuts herself off. “Where’s your whitelighter?”

He stares. “My what?”

She raises a hand to her head and groans. “Oh, someone’s really messed up somewhere. Leo!”

~

Guardian angels are real, called whitelighters, and apparently witches with active powers who go around saving innocents are supposed to have them to help keep them from getting themselves killed in the process.

Leo, who’s something called an elder with a kind face, says an unconventional witch deserves an unconventional whitelighter.

Chris Halliwell is his age, half witch, and also has telekinesis.

Oh, and he’s apparently his cousin. His very, very, very distant cousin.

“Are all witches related?” he asks incredulously.

“No,” Chris says, long dark hair and hazel eyes doing more to aid his claim of family than the spell his mother had cast. He and Chris look more related than him and Dean do. “We’d thought all the other branches of the Warren line had died out. You’re a surprise.”

Great. He’s a freak even among witches.

~

It’s so much easier now that he’s not desperately trying to piece together everything on his own, with only the occasional help from the innocents he saves. Chris is sarcastic and annoying and funny and more than having a guardian angel, Sam’s relieved to just have a friend he doesn’t have to lie to for once.

The Halliwell house, with its potion ingredients and powerful witches and home cooking, is only an orb away. He mostly hangs out with Chris, of course, but Piper always invites him to stay for dinner and Paige checks in on him, feeling somewhat responsible for him since she met him first, and Wyatt’s friendly enough but Chris sends him packing whenever Sam’s there.

He’s pulling doubletime when it comes to saving innocents, doing it as a witch and as a hunter, and he’s still maintaining straight As on top of it all while lying about half his life to his father and brother. It’s a stack of cards that’s bound to fall apart.

Going to Stanford is about more than just escaping his father.

It gets him close enough to San Francisco that he won’t need to be orbed to the Halliwells. It’s supposed to give him some breathing room, to let him focus on being a witch, to let him get his education. He does more good as a witch than as a hunter, but it’s not like that’s something he can explain to his family.

He’d wanted out, needed out, before he gets himself or someone else killed trying to balance it all. But he hadn’t thought his father would kick him out. He hadn’t thought Dean would let him.

He goes to the bus station but doesn’t buy a ticket. He calls Chris and spends the rest of the summer at Halliwell manor, burying all his hurt under training with Chris and saving people and getting ready to start college in September.

~

Jess wears a pentacle around her neck and keeps salt in small bowls in each of the cardinal directions and Sam doesn’t intend to tell her that he’s a witch, but when he ends up saving her from a darklighter attack, that decision is taken out of his hands. Coming clean about the hunter part takes longer, but it’s a bit of an easier sell once the knowledge of the supernatural is already out there. The thing that surprised her most of all is that things like bullets and steel can be used successfully against monsters, rather than the existence of monsters themselves.

Three years later when Dean shows up at their door, Sam can’t bring himself to deny him. It’s one weekend. He’d never wanted to lose his family in the first place.

When he returns home to Jessica pinned to the ceiling, he doesn’t even have to think.

He yanks her down, catching her in his arms just as fire effulges the place she’d been. He pushes the fire away from them, but it fights him harder than demonic fire usually does and leaves his hands burned and blistering. He doesn’t care. Jess is bleeding and in shock but still alive, breath rattling against him. “CHRIS!”

Dean’s yelling for him, but Sam can’t let him in. He throws his hand out, keeping his bedroom door closed even as his brother throws his body against it, still screaming his name.

Chris orbs in, eyes going huge. “Sam, what-”

“Heal her then go,” he snaps, the smoke already hurting his throat. “I’ll explain later.”

He puts his glowing hands over her bleeding stomach and the wound closes, her body going slack and her breathing easing even as her eyes roll back.

Sam tenses. “Is she-”

“Fine, let’s go, your hands,” Chris says, hands already glowing as he reaches for him.

“SAM!” Dean shouts, sounding like he’s about two seconds away from trying to shoot through the door.

“You can heal me later,” he says. “Thank you. Go.”

Chris shoots him a bitchy look that Paige says they share and then he orbs away. The fire’s covered almost the entire room now and Sam finally lets go of the door.

Dean stumbles in, pale, already reaching for him.

Sam stands and finds his knees buckling, gritting his teeth to keep himself upright. “Take her,” he says urgently, pressing Jess into his brother’s arms. “We have to go.”

“You think?” he snaps, but he’s gentle with Jess. Sam shoves him towards the door, slamming it behind him just as it surges after them. Keeping the flames from killing them is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. No wonder he’s exhausted.

They stumble downstairs, away from the fire, and someone’s already called the ambulance.

The story’s an easy sell because it’s not like anyone would believe the truth. They say Jess took sleeping pills and Sam came home to flames. He pulled Jess out and has the burns to prove it. Dean saw the flames in the window and went up, helping to get them both out.

It’s almost true.

“He had yellow eyes,” Jess tells him after. “He was – Sam, I’ve seen demons, I’ve fought demons. He’s something else.”

“Different kind of demons,” Sam says. There’s the underworld, and there’s hell. Underworld demons go after witches mostly. Hell demons go after mortals and are a lot harder to kill, ironically. “It’s the same demon that killed my mother, Jess, and now it’s after you. I have to take care of this.”

Dean’s too relieved about Sam’s determination to rejoin the hunt to question him too closely about all this. He knows better than to think that will last for very long.

Chris agrees to watch over Jess for him even though she’s not technically one of his charges. They layer protection spells on her, including one cast by the power of three, and even this yellow eyed demon will be hard pressed to break through that.

Hell demons are tricky. They’re not as susceptible to witch magic. But Sam’s not just a witch.

He’s a hunter too.

[setevulpo]

post-canon jayce who speaks until his voice is raw because he can't stand the quiet. who doesn't fall asleep unless he can curl around viktor completely to make sure he doesn't leave. who hates going anywhere near rivers after having walked in one with a barely functioning leg.

post-canon viktor who isn't quite himself after engulfing so many minds in his own. who refuses to be anywhere near other people because they're too loud. who consumes and consumes and consumes to try and make up for the time he spent without a physical body.

just. post-canon jayvik having way too many issues for anyone but each other to handle.

[detectivejigsawpines]

Recently I had an epiphany: Sam and Dean from Supernatural are basically Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker from the prequel trilogy, but with the age dynamic reversed.

…Which led to the horrifying thought of “what if Dean and Anakin were to meet,” because the galaxy is not ready for that level of chaos.

[thehammerhorse]

This took 10 hours somehow? For a meme.

Flat colours and og meme underneath

[souporwholock]

[tvckerwash]

nobody understands wash/south friendship. anyone not in the know thinks they hate each other, but they don't. sure, they think the other is the single most annoying person in the known universe, but when push comes to shove, they're an okay team so long as they both understand that things are going to become extremely chaotic, they will be screaming at each other non stop, and as the guy who's really, really good at getting out of bad situations where death is almost certain alive, wash (generally) takes point.

[hopexhappiness]

BREAKING NEWS!

Tumblr doesn’t know how to react to real LGBTQ+ representation!

Years of queerbaiting, half assed tastes of what they desire from their favorite media and delusional hope have not prepared the ecosystem for progress in representation!

[headfullof-ideas]

I have discovered a trick for writing Ant and Madeline, the way they act with one another, and their friendship in general. And that is to treat them like they are just Hiccup and Ruffnut from HTTYD reincarnated in another life/world.

[princessplaidheart]

While watching season 12 of Supernatural, my husband and I got to "The One You've Been Waiting For," shortly before the boys storm in to rescue the girl and kill Hitler. Then this happens...

...and my husband gets this wide-eyed, gleeful look. Then, of course, Sam convinces Dean to set the grenade launcher aside for the moment, leading my husband to look at me.

"PLEASE tell me he eventually gets to use that!"

I tried to hold in a laugh but failed and said, "Mayyyybe..." 🤣

[soullessjack]

Jack is the kind of sunlight ray that may harm/kill you if you dare to harm it or its close ones. No pure cuteness. Just hotness, warmth and destruction. 😊☀️🔥

[ladyofthesunlightroses]

People who watch Supernatural totally get it when you say "I feel like I'm Dean" or "Cas" etc.

Those who haven't, its so hard explaining that this hunter has deep rooted issues and unable to express himself or accept love because he's so messed up in the head from trauma so he laughs it off with a joke, a drink or food. but when it gets too much, he has outbursts of rage and then realises afterwards he's caused damage. he thinks no one will forgive him because he can't forgive himself. he blames himself for everything, takes the weight of the world on his shoulders because he was raised to be a good solider, to follow orders, to look out for others. he's taken on things he shouldn't have, should have let go of things he hasn't. the man is a walking time bomb of pain, hurt, anger and sorrow.

so many of us can connect with that.

don't even get me started on Castiel, Jack or Sam.

We'd be here forever.

[a-murmur-of-a-prayer]

The thing about my weird little brain is that sometimes, I have Media and Characters that I rotate for as long as I can - and then they rotate for a while and I need to give them a break. And then, when Another Character is being rotated the ones I haven’t thought about in a few months will come up begging for attention. And the thing is that as much as I want to start rotating them in my mind again, I HAVE to refuse because if I keep waiting, the Characters and the Media will be even juicier when I DO let myself obsess over them again. Do you get it? Am I the only one that does this? Idk but I find it fascinating

[lifewithaview]

Anna Torv in Fringe (2008) Olivia

S3E1

Brandon follows the orders of The Secretary and injects drugs in Olivia to brainwash her to convince that she is the Olivia from the parallel universe. However she succeeds to escape from her imprisonment on the Liberty Island and swims to Manhattan. She abducts the taxi driver Henry and forces him to drive to the Opera House expecting to return home; however the place is quarantined. Then she heads to the Massive Dynamic and finds that the company does not exist in the alternate universe. Meanwhile the Fringe Division is assigned by The Secretary to hunt Olivia. What will she do?

*The alternate Manhattan headquarters for Fringe Division is a several story oval building with a hint of Roman Colosseum and a roof garden. The building is actually the central branch of the Vancouver Public Library.

[walker-extended-universe]

What are the odds?, Chapter 1

Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Amnesia, Confusion, Explosions, Burns, Injury, Injury Recovery, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A strange coincidence leads to a mix up that our heroes may never recover from…. Assuming anyone realizes the mistake.

Or: in which Cordell dies and Sam gets mistaken as a Texas Ranger

Written for @whumptober Day 9: Mistaken Identity

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-0-

The Walker family didn’t know what to think when they saw the explosion on the news. They knew he’d been there. That morning he’d warned them he had a big job that day and he might be out late. “Things could get messy. Just keep an eye out, alright?”

None of them had expected “messy” to mean “massive explosion that took out most of the people on both sides of the confrontation”.

Seeing it on the news had been terrifying. Waiting on the call to tell them if Cordell was among the dead was agonizing.

Liam could hardly believe it when James called and told them he was alive. “He’s not in the clear yet though,” he warned. “He has a lot of severe burns, broken bones, the works. The doctors aren’t sure he’ll pull through or what it’ll mean for him if he does. Just- temper your expectations, alright?”

Despite the grim report, Liam couldn’t help but feel optimistic. As long as Cordell came home, they could deal with whatever he could throw at them. It made the long hours of silence in the waiting room just a little more bearable to think that way.

—-------------

Earlier that day…..

Just one more case , Sam promised himself. One more case, then your own. Find a girl, a dog, white picket fence, two and a half kids, the works. Just like you promised.

Sam had never lied to himself when he said Dean was the one that made hunting worth it. All the blood and guts and death were damn near unbearable without his brother by his side. But he still felt a duty to help people and it was hard to break the habit of gearing up when he saw a strange death in the paper.

He was sure this was a djinn case. He’d scoped out a few other places in the area but didn’t find any sign of a nest there. This old warehouse was the last place on his list within a 25 mile radius. If he didn’t find a nest here, he’d have to expand his search.

When he heard voices, he thought he’d struck gold. When he saw the guns, he knew he was in trouble.

No one saw him. He could just sneak away and-

Boom

He didn’t have time to react before everything happened. One moment he was sneaking for the door, the next he was stuck under a pile of rubble from the concrete ceiling. Fire was all around him, not that he was aware of it as one of the pieces hit his head.

He also wasn’t aware that on the other side of the lot, a man that could’ve been his twin was dead and buried even further under the rubble than he was.

When Sam Winchester was found and Cordell Walker was left behind, no one on the scene was aware of it.

—------------

“Family of Cordell Walker?”

“Yes- Here.” Liam was the first one up and he heard the rest of his family gather anxiously behind him. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” the doctor saud. “We believe he’ll make a full physical recovery. He sustained some very severe burns and multiple broken bones but it’s nothing we can’t handle. Our concern is his mental state. He suffered a very severe head injury during the explosion. He is awake now and we’ll be running some tests to gauge the full extent of the damage but as far as we can tell he’s dealing with amnesia and limited cognitive function.”

Liam swallowed hard. “Amnesia? How- How bad?”

“Like I said, it’s going to take some time until we know for sure how bad it is. So far the only thing he’s told us is that he wants to see his brother. You can see him now if you want, but we will be limiting his visitors until we’ve gotten the full scope of his condition.”

Liam nodded. “Yeah. No, we understand. I- I’ll see him now.” He had to know Cordell was okay, or at the very least alive.

“Of course. Come with me.”

The doctor led him down a series of hallways into the ICU. When they reached his brother’s room, the doctor let him go in first.

Seeing Cordell like this was difficult, though it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. He was bandaged all over and had a cast on one arm and one leg. Considering how close to death he’d come, Liam couldn’t help but be grateful even if Cordell wasn’t that comfortable.

“Hey, Cordi….”

His brother’s head snapped around to look at him and his brow furrowed. “...Who are you?”

Liam’s heart sank but he tried to keep his smile. “I’m Liam. Your brother. You were asking to see me, remember?”

Cordell nodded. “Right. Right. My brother. I’m sorry, I just- I don’t-”

“You don’t remember. I know. It’s okay.” Liam came over to the bed and sat on the edge. “There’s a lot of things you don’t remember. But that’s okay. Me, Mom and Dad, the kids, Geri, we’re all going to help you remember and get back on your feet, okay?”

Cordell nodded but he still seemed confused. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I- Thank you. It’s-” he broke off in a dry chuckle “- It’s just weird. Hard. Scary. Not being able to remember anything. I mean… Even my name doesn’t feel right. I mean… Cordell Beauregard Walker? Do our parents hate me or something?”

Liam chuckled. “It’s a family name, for the record. And it’s good to know your sense of humor is still intact, even if we all have to suffer from it.”

Cordell rolled his eyes. “Whatever, jerk.”

Liam laughed. Cordell looked at him like he was expecting something else but moved on anyway. “So…. Mom and Dad and kids…. You should probably fill me in on them before they come in and get upset I don’t know them.”

That was probably a good idea. “I’ll try my best. Maybe I should make you a set of index cards….”

“Yeah, yeah….”

[joutsummer]

in the midst of trying to write something else i just got slammed into by the idea of a bending au