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braveclementine · 6 months ago

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Chapter 19

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞!" Harry's voice kept calling out the dead elfs name. I didn't even have a chance to say or do a single thing to save the elf. I could only sink to my knees by Harry's side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Bill, Fleur, Dean, and Luna came over after some time, probably to assess if we were hurt since we weren't moving.

Harry noticed them and said, "Hermione? Where is she?"

"Ron's taken her inside. She'll be all right." Bill said softly. He glanced over at me, then back to the dead house elf in Harry's arms.

Harry looked down at Dobby before pulling the sharp, sleek blade from his chest. He pulled his coat off, covering the small, childlike body with it.

Bill made a few orders of the others. Dean helped Griphook into the house, Fleur hurrying after them.

"We can bury him." Bill said gently to Harry.

"Uh huh." Harry agreed, sounding distant.

"Just give him a moment." I mumbled, wiping away the tears that were forming in my eyes. I really hated my pregnancy hormones.

"I want to do it properly." Harry suddenly spoke. His voice was strained, full of pain, sorrow, grief, and guilt. "Not by magic. Have you got a spade?"

Bill said nothing, only standing to go and retrieve the said spade, before returning to give it to Harry.

I waited outside with Harry, the pregnancy spell having dropped since I was no longer apparating. I felt rather large as I sat there, on the rock, but I wanted to be here, since I couldn't help. Besides, I was going to have to sit through many more of these, I was going to have to get used to it.

Eventually, Ron, Dean, and Trang joined us. Trang didn't have Remus in her arms, so I had a based assumption that my son was in the house.

"How's Hermione?" Harry spoke the first words since Bill had left us alone.

"Better, Fleur's looking after her." Ron responded, before the two young men simply jumped down into the hole with spades to help Harry finish the grave. Trang meanwhile, sat down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. She had never met Dobby, but she knew how much the house-elf meant to Harry and me.

When they were done with the grave, Harry wrapped Dobby up tighter in his jacket, Ron gave him his shoes and socks, while Dean placed a hat on his head. I slowly undid the scarf that was around my neck, handing it to Harry, who helped put it around his neck. Trang produced gloves, which were placed upon Dobbys' hands.

"We should close his eyes." Luna said softly. I flinched a little, my back having been towards them. I turned to see that Bill, Fleur, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Trang were all there, Trang holding Remus in her arms. I felt a sudden, unwarranted stab of anger at Ollivander and Griphook. They should've been out here for Dobby's burial.

Luna knelt down, her fingers moving Dobby's eyelids until they covered his glassy, unseeing eyes. I was suddenly struck funny by the realization that Dobbys' eyes were green. Maybe the universe had something against green eyes and they just all needed to die.

Harry and Dean climbed out of the grave, looking down at the small body. I wondered if it would feel the same, looking at Dad and Tonks. . . No they'll be fine. They'll be fine. I tried to convince myself, forcing myself to focus solely on Dobby. I had had a plan and Dobby simply had not worn the shielded clothes I'd created. Dad and Tonks and Severus would be different, I would deal with them directly, not second-hand.

"I think we ought to say something. I'll go first, shall I?" Luna said, and then without waiting for a response, said, "Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."

"Yeah. . . thanks, Dobby." Ron murmured.

"Thanks." Dean followed.

"Good-bye Dobby." Harry said in a tight voice.

Bill lifted the dirt with his wand, letting it settle into the hole, forming a mound of sorts.

"D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" Harry asked as the others started to make their way back to the house.

"Sure." Bill murmured, patting Harry on the shoulder.

I hesitated, looking down at the rock I had been carving into a headstone with words carved into it. When I had been writing the words on it, they had made sense in my head, painting me a picture of sadness and yet love at the same time. Now, staring at the words, they didn't make any sense:

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝐸𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎

I scoffed silently to myself and dropped the rock in the dirt, walking past Harry, joining the others in the house, leaving my words to wear away for years to come.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 standing in the foyer of Griphooks bedroom when Harry came up the stairs with Bill, Ron and Hermione. I went to stand aside, but Harry shook his head. "I want your advice in here."

I glanced over at Hermione, who gave me a small smile.

"In here." Bill said, opening up the door to his and Fleurs' room. It was a beautiful room, with colours that matched the sea and sand outside. I realized now that I had never actually been to the sea, though I had always longed to go. I supposed I could make the most of this visit, though I now wished it was with Severus and Dad as well.

Hermione took a seat besides the dressing table, Ron sitting on the arm of the chair. Harry moved to the window, turning his back to the beautiful view outside to lean against the sill, his arms across his chest. The familiar flicker of pain in his eyes told me that his scar was hurting again. I'm sure if I had still been wearing our mums' locket, I would've felt the same pain against my chest.

Bill came into the room with Griphook in his arms, gently putting him down on the bed and Bill left without another word. Now that Griphook was in the room, I decided to sit on the loveseat, the babies in my stomach kicking hard now. I put a hand against my stomach, rubbing it gently, hoping it would soothe them.

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed. How are your legs?" Harry asked.

"Painful. But mending."

I looked at the Gryffindor sword that the goblin held in his hands, clutching it with reluctance, as though he already knew what we were asking for, though I knew that wasn't the case.

"You probably don't remember-" Harry started, but Griphook interrupted.

"-that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts? I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous." There was a long silence, where the two of them seemed to be sizing each other up. I knew who won when Griphook continued, "You buried the elf. I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door."

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I wouldn't regret. I wouldn't even have to feel that I needed to berate him for not showing up to the funeral if I had just been able to save Dobbys' life.

"Yes."

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter."

Harry rubbed his scar as he questioned, "In what way?"

"You dug the grave."

"So?"

Griphook didn't answer, so I did.

"Certain ah, species don't expect Wizards to take the time for a proper burial for those we are supposed to see as 'below us.'"

Griphook gave me a look that said he didn't like my way of explaining it, but it had been the nicest way of putting it that I had been able to see.

"Griphoook, I need to ask-"

"You also rescued a goblin."

"What?"

"You brought me here. Saved me."

"Well, I take it you're not sorry?" I heard the impatience in Harry's voice.

"No, Harry Potter, but you are a very odd wizard."

"Right. Well I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me. I need to break into a Gringotts vault."

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry like he had gone mad, while Harry's eyes flickered just a bit. I hoped he wasn't in too much pain, but that was a big hope.

"Harry-" Hermione started, but was interrupted immediately by the goblin.

"Break into a Gringotts vault? Impossible."

"No, it isn't. It's been done." Ron quickly backed Harry up.

"Yeah, the same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago." There had to be some sort of poetic justice to that.

"The vault in question was empty at the time." The goblin snapped, clearly offended. "Its protection was minimal."

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful. It belongs to the Lestranges."

If Hermione and Ron hadn't been looking at him like he had a screw loose before, they most certainly were now, as they exchanged a glance.

"You have no chance. No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours-"

"Thief, you have been warned, beware- yeah I know, I remember," Harry interrupted "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"

"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain, it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers."

"Wand-carriers." Harry repeated.

"The right to carry a wand, has long been contested between wizards and goblins."

"Well, goblins can do magic without wands." Ron replied.

"That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!"

"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either, you won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never-"

"It doesn't matter. This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature-

Griphooks laugh made the hairs on my arms stand up. "But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?"

"We do! We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!"

I felt uncomfortable with both her words and the way she sat up straight, her eyes bright and passionate. I physically cringed where I sat, feeling weird about it.

"Don't call yourself-"

"Why shouldn't I? Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys'!"

I thought for effect she might pull her robe arm up, to show where Bellatrix had carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm. Considering that would've had greater effect to punctuate her words. Instead, she simply showed the thin line across her neck, not to deep, and already healed into a scab.

And don't get me wrong, I'm sure that hurt like a bitch. But I feel that the dramatic effect would've been a lot better.

"Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free? Did you know that we've wanted elves to be freed for years?" Ron fidgeted and I rolled my eyes. "You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!"

True. I definitely wanted revenge for my parents and for ripping my entire family apart.

"What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault? The sword that lies inside of it is a fake. This is the real one. I think that you already know this. You asked me to lie for you back there."

"But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault is it? Perhaps you've seen the other things in there?"

"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers."

He stroked the sword as he spoke, his beady black eyes darting between the four of us.

"So young, to be fighting so many."

"Will you help us?" Harry asked. I could hear a baby start to cry downstairs and knew that I needed to depart. "We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a goblins' help. You're our one chance."

"I shall. . . think about it." Griphook said.

"But-"

"Thank you." Harry said softly.

"I think, that the Skele-Gro has finished its work. I may be able to sleep at last. Forgive me. . ."

"Yeah, of course." Harry said, leaning forward and taking the sword of Gryffindor from where Griphook had laid it down. The four of us left the room, my skin prickling as I turned my back to the goblin.

"Little git, he's enjoying keep us hanging."

"Harry, are you saying what I think you're saying?" The crying grew louder. "Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault?"

"Yes. Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else did she think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Who would find out about."

"But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?" Ron asked.

"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts. He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it the night he came back, I heard him."

He rubbed his scar. Trang came up the stairs, carrying Remus, who had stopped crying so loudly, but still whimpering slightly.

"I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me. . . except for Hogwarts."

"You really understand him." Ron said after a moment, as I took Remus into my arms. I bounced him just a little, before looking up.

"Well, and also Bellatrix and him had a daughter together." I said nonchalantly, without thinking really.

"He what?" Ron exclaimed vehemently and Trang choked out.

"I thought it was obvious." I said, then cooed to Remus, "Let's go down and play with toys." I turned and walked back down the stairs, Trang tailing me closely.

"What was that all about?" Trang asked. I explained the conversation to Trang as we made our way to the living room, before turning to other conversation as Bill came into the room.

"I suppose you can't tell me what you're doing here either?" Bill asked.

"Oh, actually, it's quite simple. You-Know-Who was going to be where Trang and I have been hiding out. We left hours prior to that visit, and I figured here was a good place. Sorry for the intrusion." I explained quickly, putting Remus down on the floor now that he'd stopped crying. I had brought a few of his favorite toys with us, and I put them down next to him now, which he immediately picked up and started to play with.

"It's alright, I'm just glad you guys are safe." Bill said, still surveying me as I gingerly sat down on the couch, putting a hand over my stomach. "Er- Snape?"

"Oh, uh yeah." I mumbled quietly, not meeting his eyes. "Twins, possibly."

It was silent for a moment and then Bill said. "I get it. I mean, not Snape, hearsay, but uh, the love part. . . it's hard to stop loving someone who already had your heart."

"Yeah, it is." I murmured.

"Your rooms are upstairs." Bill said. "We put you and Trang in with Hermione."

"Thank you, Bill." I said softly. "We appreciate it."

Bill nodded and then continued on his way.

"So what's the plan?" Trang asked lightly.

"We pretend we're on vacation. Spend our days down at the beach, help cook and clean so we're not overbearing guests, and then a week before Harry and the others leave for Gringotts, we'll leave for Hogwarts. The future there is a little fuzzy admittedly, but it seems like a sound plan."

"Understood. I'm going to go lay down, I'm pretty tired." Trang said softly, standing up. She squeezed my shoulder and headed upstairs.

I continued to sit in the living room, lost in thought, until Harry strode out of the house, Hermione and Ron tailing after him.

Flashes of visions played in my head. Severus was bustling down the steps of Hogwarts. . . meeting with Voldemort. . .Severus headed back up the stairs after Voldemort instructed him to do so. Severus would attempt to look out the window, see what the Dark Lord was doing, but he could not see him. . . he had casted a Disillusionment charm. And Harry was telling Ron and Hermione the same things I was seeing. Ron was bemoaning the fact that they hadn't gone after the wand.

But everything would work out somehow. I could see the vague image of a person finishing Voldemort inside Hogwarts. Which would most likely take place in June although I didn't know the exact date. It could even possibly be late May. I was only predicting June since all of our other escapades had happened in the last month of school.

I stood, gripping the couch arm as I felt the dizziness of doing so. Black dots danced across my vision and I waited until they were gone to move again. I made my way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Trang was fast asleep and I saw that Bill had fashioned a makeshift crib in the corner for Remus. I laid my son down in the crib, putting the small blanket over him, tucking his favorite stuffed animal in with him.

"Goodnight sweetheart." I murmured, before climbing into the bed closest to him.

I fell asleep quickly, big green eyes imprinted against my eyelids and Dobby's voice echoing in my ears.

⬅️➡️

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the-i-can-dig-destiel · 2 years ago

Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Inspired by Aceriee’s Art

My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and I have always believed, firmly, that I will meet my end staring down the barrel of a gun.

And, well, not that I haven’t. I’ve had my fair share of death by a gun. Dare I say, more than the average Joe. But those never seem to stick in our family. Anyways, I digress.

If not a gunshot, then I was absolutely sure that it was gonna be a heart attack! My very unhealthy eating habits aside, I figured there’s only so much stress a heart can take before it gives up. I mean, how many apocalypses would I get to prevent, and/or stop before the sheer terror got too much?

And then of course, there was the obvious choice. Death at the hands of a monster. This one I always tried to avoid thinking about. First, because it was bad juju, and second, because I thought myself better than that.

But, here we are! At the age of 41, I have finally met a foe strong enough to defeat me.

Heart, meet rebar. And just when I had found the perfect dog!

I mean, really, I blame it on the poor judgment of whoever thought this would make for a good interior design. Who goes around leaving rebars out of walls? I have worked construction before, I know the safety codes, and if it isn’t obvious by my state right now, this is so against most of them.

SAM: Alright. Let's go find those kids, get them outta here.

Oh boy! Sam doesn’t know yet. As Donna would say, hooftah! Hmm. How to break this to him?

DEAN: Sam...I don't... Mm.I don't think I'm going anywhere buddy.

I should tell him to remember to take Miracle for a walk when he’s done here. Preferably before burning my body to ashes. That takes too long and my boy is too tiny. I just cleaned the bunker.

SAM: What? What are you talking about?

Dammit Sam. Must you choose this moment to go dumb?

DEAN: There's something in my...Something in my back. It feels like it's right through my heart man.

Finally! That gets Sam to stand directly in front of me, still a few inches away and he reaches around to my back. Don’t know about him, but I’m not surprised to see his hand come back bloody. Too much blood. He better not get blood on the bunker floor either.

DEAN:Oh, God.

SAM: Alright. Um… Hold on. Okay. Uh, I got you.

The fuck does this fool think he’s doing?

DEAN: No, no, no, no, no. Don't... Don't... Don't move me.

Ugh, how many times do I have to repeat myself before he hears me? I’m literally at my deathbed and the kid still hasn’t learned to listen to me.

Figures.

DEAN: Don't move me.It feels like this thing's holding me together right now. Just give me… Just give me a minute.

SAM: Yeah. Um... alright. I'll call for help. I'll get the first-aid kit.

Might be the bloodloss, but time starts to stretch as I watch Sam take out his phone and move to walk away. I do remember what I said to him earlier today.

The whole “I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away.Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.”

The thing is, I lied. I do that. And honestly, if Sam believed that bullshit, it’s on him. Anyways, yeah, I lied and though I always hoped for more dignity in my death, truth is, I don't want him to get help. Not gonna do anyone any good, even if by some miracle they get me to survive this.

DEAN: Sam, Sam! Sam… Stay wi… Stay with me… Can you stay with me, please?

SAM: Okay. Yeah.

Huh! Can’t believe that actually worked. Maybe he is learning to listen to me. Better put it to use. First thing’s first.

DEAN: Okay. Okay. Uh... right. Alright. Listen to me. Um… You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, alright?

SAM: Dean...We are gonna get them somewhere safe.

Bless his heart. My little brother.

DEAN: No. We knew it was always gonna end like this for me. I mean, maybe not exactly like this, not the kinda penetration I’m into really, but It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things… It's what we do. What we’ve always done.

SAM: No, no. Stop, okay? Just... Just stop.

But I’m tired. How do I tell him that I’m so tired? How do I make him understand this is happening because of the sleepless nights I’ve had these past few weeks, escaping images of nothingness taking away all the light in my world?

DEAN: It's okay. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man. But I’m done…

SAM: I will find a way, okay? I-I will find another way.

DEAN: No, man. No. No. No, no, no, no. You’re not hearing me! No bringing me back, okay? You know... You know that always ends badly.

SAM: Dean...

DEAN: Sammy I’m done.. I can’t do this anymore.. Not without him…

God, please let this be enough for him. Please let this get him to let me go.

SAM: P-Please… what about the beach? Our feet in the sand, drinks with tiny umbrellas, Dean, you… you said it yourself! You said if Jack… you PROMISED ME!

Oh Jesus, here come the fireworks… how do I make him understand, if I can’t have matching hawaiian shirts with Cas… What the hell am I supposed to do without his pretty ass there? How am I expected to just go on, when I know Cas is surrounded by darkness? By nothingness? By the empty…

DEAN: I'm fading pretty… I'm fading pretty quickly, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear… Come here. Let me look at you. Yeah, there he is.

Ok, Winchester. Take a deep breath. You can do this. You can make this ok for your little brother.

DEAN: I'm so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Man, when we were kids, you were so damn smar... smart. You never… You never took any of dad's crap. I never knew how you did that… And you're stronger than me…

Yeah kid. You lived your life unafraid of what he would say. You dared to love and you … not like me. You never let it get too late to say… I wish I had told him Sammy… I wish I could tell you what really happened that night in the dungeon… I wish I could tell you how Cas was brave, and selfless and the best goddamned thing that ever happened to me and I was a coward, I was scared and selfish and to nobody’s surprise I let both of us down…

DEAN: Hey, did I ever tell you... Did I ever tell you that night that, uh... that I ca... That I came for you when you were at school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip? I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say… I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead…

I know I could never bring myself to tell you about him Sammy. Even if I wasn’t choking on my own blood, I still would never have enough time to tell you about how he made me wanna stay alive… He was it for me, and I can’t tell you that… But I can tell you about you!

DEAN: And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared. I was scared, 'cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me…

Sam is crying now, and well, what’s one more thing for me to hate myself for, right?

SAM: Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

DEAN: Yes, you can.

Because I need you to…

SAM: Well, I don't want to.

Well, ain’t that a bitch? Kids feeding me my own words from all those years ago. Well, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s bullshitting. Hunting used to take the first place but after this colossal mess, I can’t really give myself that.

DEAN: Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you… Right here... every day. Every day you're out there and you're Li... And you're living and you're fighting, 'cause you… You always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there every step. I love you so much. My baby brother.

Oh, man. I can’t believe I’m crying too. Shit. I used to think at least when I die, I’d get to spend the rest of it with Cas… Not that I would ever be caught dead admitting it… Oh, well, doesn’t seem to matter now anyways.

DEAN: Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is. It is, and that's… Man... that's okay. I need you to... I need you to promise me. I need you to… To... to tell me... that it's okay. I need you to tell me that it's okay…

SAM: No!

Sam don’t look away from me. Please brother, I need you to let me go. Shit, what if I become a ghost? I mean, does never getting to say I love you to Cas count as unfinished business? Sure as hell sounds like it to me! Shit, Sam better burn all my stuff just to be sure.

DEAN: Look at me. Look at me. I need... I need to go Sammy… and I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me… Tell me it's okay.

SAM: No, goddammit Dean! No. I will never!

Uh-oh! Sammy’s letting go of me and I just don’t think that’s such a good idea. Should I tell him I can’t really feel my legs? Would be nice if I could be spared the embarrassment of a faceplant pre-death.

SAM: JACK! Jack, you better get down here and help me or so help me, I will make a way up there and… JACK! You fucking promised this wouldn’t happen! You said you would be a better god!

Ok, this might be a good time to tell Sammy to stop yelling and get moving, but the light behind him is pretty distracting and shit, man, I used to be able to focus before…

“Sam! Sam, I am here. There is no need for you to yell. What’s goin…” Jack finds himself in the middle of a barn, dead bodies of what seemed to be vampires littering the floor, and it’s not until Sam moves towards him that he spots the reason behind his calls.

“Oh Dean…” Just as he moves towards the older Winchester, Sam gets a hold of his shoulders and Jack feels his heart break for him. His eyes look hollow, as if it was him who was on the edge of death.

“Please… you have to do something! You have to save him! He’s not… please Jack!”

“Hey, Sam, Sam! If you let me take a look at Dean, I can try and help.”

Sam takes a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself, then nods once before stepping aside and Jack finally gets to look at Dean. It hasn’t been long since he left the brothers on earth and went to sort out the universe, but Dean seems to have aged decades.

“Dean?” He calls out once, but just as he thought, Dean’s out of his reach. At least, physically. He tries not to imagine all the self-deprecating jokes Dean must have come up with over being impaled by a rebar in a bar.

He tries and fails. Winchesters.

“Sam, help me pull him off the rod.” He knows just as well as Sam, that he does not need any help moving Dean’s body. They’re both aware of the pity he takes on Sam, letting him do something before he loses his mind for good.

“Ok, yeah, gently on the ground.” And before Dean’s body hits the ground, he is healed. He ignores the voice in his head, metaphorically speaking, accusing him of ignoring his own rules. What happened to being a hands off God? Well, this is DEAN!

“Jack, what are you waiting for? Heal him! Bring him back!”

“I have healed him, Sam.”

“Then why isn’t he waking up?”

Yeah, Jack was never a fan of the on brand Winchester’s lack of anger management. He pushes his annoyance aside and reaches for Dean’s soul.

Huh. Interesting. He’s fairly new to being God, but he’s got a good track record with resurrections and he’s pretty sure no soul has ever resisted being pulled back so hard.

Typical. Leave it to Dean fucking Winchester.

“It’s like he’s resisting his body’s pull. Sam, what happened here? What am I missing?”

“I… shit, Jack, I dunno. We were on a hunt, and we just rescued these kids and, he just wouldn’t let me get help, and he kept saying this is good, and he wants to go, and I … I didn’t know what else to do Jack…”

“Ok, ok, Sam, look at me. I need you to go and take care of the kids. I am going to try and find out where Dean is.”

He leaves the second part of that sentence unsaid. Why does he not want to live?

The sky is a beautiful blue/green, as Dean and Cas watch the sun set. Dean pushes his sunglasses up on his head, then holds Cas’ hand in his, and relishes in the sensation of their arms touching. Cas’ hot skin against his, contrasting with the ice cold drink in his other hand, makes him feel dizzy. Or is it the blood loss?

“What?” He asks, not really sure who he’s talking to.

“I didn’t say anything.” Cas replies. Taking a sip from his martini. The blue shirt brings out the ocean blue in his eyes, breathtakingly infinite.

“You know, you really do look good in floral patterns…” Dean’s not really sure why his heart aches at the exclamation. This has been the most flawless day, a long overdue vacation for just the two of them. Then why does it feel cold?

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself, Dean.” Castiel studies him, and Dean immediately feels warmer. “I like your tan. And your sunglasses on your head. It makes it easier for me to see your eyes.”

The sheer openness with which Cas talks to him is enough to make Dean want to run away. But not here. It’s safe here. Why?

It’s almost easy for the words to fall out. “Yeah? What about my eyes?”

“They never lie to me… never have, never will…” Dean resists the urge to shy away.

“And what are they telling you now?”

“I’m sorry Dean, I will not make it that easy for you… If you want to tell me something, you have to say it yourself.” Cas says in a cheeky tone before looking away again.

“I know, I know that! I just... Ca–” Dean is interrupted by a sudden shock of pain. He drops to the floor, clutching his chest, crying out in pain. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen here… not here…

Castiel is staring at a figure behind him.

“Billie.”

“What? That’s impossible Cas!” But even as Dean’s fighting to get the words out through his pain, the world around them gets eerily darker, and all of a sudden they’re back at the bunker.

Cas grabs Dean by the shoulders and tries to guide him away. But Dean’s legs are cemented into the floor. He knows exactly where this leads, and he is not about to relive it.

“My heart... I can feel her.” He hears himself say. No, no no no. Go back to the beach. Please.

“Come on, Dean. We gotta go. Come on.”

Castiel pulls Dean away, almost carrying him through the bunker as Dean gasps and grunts in pain. Hold on to his arm.

At the bottom of the stairs now, Billie’s following them slowly.

“It's you, Dean. It's always been you. Death-defying. Rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame.”

Dean collapses beside the bookshelves just out of view, gripping his chest. Castiel looks over his shoulder where Billie still approaches.

“You are human disorder incarnate.”

No. I was ok to go this time. Please, I wanted to go… I was…

In the downstairs hallway now, Castiel's supporting Dean's weight with Dean's arm over his shoulders as he hurries him through the bunker, away from Billie. Dean clutches his heart, groaning in pain. Please, Cas, I don’t want to do this again… I can’t… Please, just let me go with her…

But nothing comes out of Dean’s mouth.

“I've got you Dean.”

They round another hallway corner, but not far behind them is Billie, still holding her scythe.

“Come on, Dean. You can't escape me.”

Dean wants to say he’s not trying to. He wants to scream and ask her to just take him. Anything to stop them from entering the dungeon. But Cas keeps dragging him, and Dean is not in control here.

Billie drags the blade of her scythe against the tile wall.

“Don't you think it's finally time? Time for the sweet release of death?”

Yes, I do…

Around another corner, Castiel guides Dean into basement storage room 7B and closes the door behind them. Dean coughs, still holding his chest as he doubles over. No no no no no.

Castiel finds a pocket knife in Dean's back pants pocket and uses it to cut his own palm. He uses the blood to paint warding onto the door. Dean wants to die.

Castiel turns towards him.

“It blocked her grip on you.”

Billie pounds her fist against the door. It shudders. The warding crackles, but holds. The slow pounding continues.

“Dean, she said that wound was killing her. Maybe we can wait her out.”

Yes, please, that’s a fantastic idea, let’s just wait her out.

“Yeah, and if we can't?”

“Then we fight.”

Yes, I will fight till my dying breath for you, just don’t go…

“We'll lose. I just led us into another trap, all because I couldn't hurt Chuck. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill, and because that's all I know how to do…”

“Dean…”

“It was Chuck all along. We shouldn't have left Sam and Jack. We should be there with them right now. Everybody's gonna die, Cas. Everybody.” You’re going to die… and “I can't stop it. She's gonna get through that door.”

“I know.”

“And she's gonna kill you, and then she's gonna kill me.”

Dean wishes he was already dead. He wishes he’d never said those words… He wishes…

They share a look. Castiel agrees, their situation is hopeless, but he can't bring himself to say it.

“I'm sorry.” and Dean’s never said any truer words.

“Wait, there is... There's one thing she's afraid of. There's one thing strong enough to stop her. When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.”

Dean wants to be mad at him, he really does, but he would make any deal, in a heartbeat, just to stop Cas from doing this. Who’s Dean to blame him?

“You what?”

“The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness, The Empty would be summoned, and it would take me forever.”

Dean Can’t breathe.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want... It's something I know I can't have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

Then just stay and be goddamnit! Dean should have just hit him in the head hard, should have knocked him out cold. He should have stopped Cas, right there and then.

“What are you talking about, man?”

“I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're daddy's blunt instrument. And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.”

Cas is crying and Dean is paralyzed. He’s as paralyzed as he was the first time around. And as paralyzed as every night ever since, lying in bed, reliving this moment over and over and over again.

“You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you.”

Yeah, and look where that got you…

“You changed me, Dean.”

Fuck you for doing this to me Cas…

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Please don’t say goodbye like this… Don’t say it…

“Because it is.”

It still lands like a punch to his guts, and Dean inhales, ready to argue, but Castiel confesses before he can.

“I love you.”

“Don't do this, Cas.” I love you too.

There's a wet noise from behind Dean and he turns to see black goo from The Empty squeezing through the bricks in the bunker's wall as a portal begins to open. They both know what this means. No more matching hawaiian shirts, no more tiny umbrella drinks, no more mix tapes, no more cowboy dressups, no more running away from their profound bond.

There are tears in Dean's eyes as he turns back to Castiel. Castiel is still smiling tearfully. I wish I could hate you… The warded door busts open. Billie stands behind it with her scythe. There's no more time.

“Cas…” don’t go… please just don’t go… I can’t go on without you…

Castiel puts his hand, bloodied from when he'd cut it for the warding, on Dean's shoulder. Right where he had laid hands on him for the first time all those years back in hell, and he might as well be throwing Dean back in hell with this.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Castiel shoves Dean aside. He hits the floor beneath the portal. A handprint of Castiel's blood remains on the shoulder of his jacket. Billie enters the room. Castiel looks at Dean one last time, smiling, and inhales as the black liquid tendrils of The Empty wrap around him. The Empty crashes against Billie, pulling her in along with them. Dean wants to get up, wants to run over and hold on to Cas’ hand, keep him here, or go with him dammit, but instead he watches in shock as the portal to The Empty closes, and he's left alone, panting, stunned, gutted, heartbroken, empty.

Dean, who is still alone in the basement of the bunker, still sitting against the wall where Cas had pushed him. He’s impaled on the wall. He holds his cellphone in his hand as it vibrates, ringing again, and again, and again, he looks at it. "Incoming Call: Jack" He stares at it, then looks around, tears in his eyes. He drops the phone, leaving it to ring on the stone ground as he buries his face in his hands and begins to cry.

“DEAN!” Jack tries to break the memory again, reaching for Dean, but his father seems to be lost to his sorrows. He seems to be stuck in this horrible loop, and Jack had no idea what had really happened the night that Cas was taken. None of them did. Dean refused to talk about it, and Jack knows why now.

But if Dean just opens up to him, if he just picks up the phone and answers, Jack can reach him, and then he can tell Dean about where he’s been. He could tell Dean where he was when Sam called for him.

He could tell Dean that Castiel was back. That it had taken them weeks to help him get through the worst part of his trauma, but he was back, and he was safe, and he was recharging his batteries as Dean would say, and that he would soon be ready to come back to Dean.

But Jack needs Dean to make that choice, to take that leap, and to answer his fucking phone.

He’s not sure how many times he’s watched Dean go through his loop, sunset at the beach, then The Empty, how many times has he cried and felt his heart break for his dads, before he folds and accepts that Dean’s just not going to open up to him.

It’s not Jack that he wants.

And it’s not Sam. and it’s not Mary, or John, or Bobby, or anyone else.

It’s Castiel.

And when it comes down to it, it has always been Castiel.

And maybe, just like the first time around, it would take saving Dean from this hell, for Cas to find himself again.

“Hold on just a little longer Dean…” He says as he leaves for heaven. He has the perfect plan.

Dean holds his cellphone in his hand as it vibrates, ringing again, and again, and again, he looks at it. "Incoming Call: Castiel". He stares at it

The hell? Didn’t he just watch Cas be swallowed by The Empty? Doesn’t that mean he’s now in Gay Super Hell? Don’t be weird about the name ok? His brain’s been through a blender.

This has never happened before. Dean’s been through this loop a million times over, his own personal hell, and it’s always either Sam or Jack, calling and calling and …

But it says Castiel on the phone now. Dean puts the phone down, tries to take a deep breath, and pickles it up again.

"Incoming Call: Castiel"

He pinches himself. His tears have dried up, he feels the pinch, stares at the screen, still says Castiel’s name, he takes another deep breath.

Well, he’s been wanting a chance to change how it happened right?

Guess this is his brain taking pity on him. God(huh) knows he doesn’t deserve it, but fuck if he cares.

He’ll be damned before letting this chance go.

So he slides his finger on the phone, and puts the phone to his ear.

“C… Cas?”

Lights explode in his eyes, and he opens them to a familiar scene.

Well, mostly familiar.

He’s lying down on the barn floor, close to where the rebar is poking out of the pole, and right in front of him is Casfuckingtiel in his stupid trench coat, with his stupid perfect hair and his fucking blue eyes and he’s staring at Dean with all the worry in the world, as if it wasn’t him that was just swallowed by the fucking empty right in front of Dean’s very own fucking eyes.

Fuck.

“Dean?” Castiel barely gets the word out, and just like that, Dean’s zapped into movement. He feels wired, live electricity running through him, and he pointedly ignores Sam and, is that Jack, AKA God?

“Dean? Really? DEAN? That’s all you have to say to me? After putting me through… through that?” He’s only faintly aware of the fact that he’s on his legs, wobbly, he was literally stabbed in the back give him a break, and he steps forward, standing dangerously close to Castiel.

“Dean…”

“No! You’ve said all you had to say! It’s my turn you sadistic bastard!”

“Uh, Dean…” Sam tries to cut in.

“Shut up Sammy!” Back to Cas. “How DARE you! You don’t get to pull that shit with a human being Cas! You don’t get to wait ten whole fucking years, put them through the slowest burn of history, drag them along the whole god damned earth, in multiple universes, and declare your love in a selfless act of bravery and fuck off to the empty before said human gets a chance to reply! You hear me?”

“Dean, I understand you’re upset…”

“Upset? You selfish son of a bitch, you… I …”

“You do NOT get to call me selfish Dean! I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you! For YOU! And what do you do with it? You go around and get yourself killed on a hunt! A fucking vampire hunt Dean? Really? It hasn’t even been a year! Couldn't you have given my memory that little bit of respect and kept your sorry ass alive at least a year?”

“You just fucking left me there Cas! On the ground! With NOTHING! I had nothing! You didn’t even give me a chance to say it back, you asshole! WHat did you expect to happen? The fucker I’m in love with says the big I love you and then immediately is sent to Gay Super Hell and I’m left to pick up the pieces! How was I supposed to live with that? Did you even consider how that affected me Cas? When you made that deal, did you even for a second stop to ask yourself, what about that poor son of a bitch who’s been head over heels in love with me for the past decade?”

See, Dean has this bad habit of running his mouth when he’s angry. And it always gets the best of him. And it’s only when the silence falls that he realizes what he’s said. Well, shouted.

You know what they say, when in Rome…

“I love you, you stupid son of a bitch!” He clarifies, just in case Castiel missed it in all the shouting.

“What?” Castiel looks pale. Yeah, take that! Not so nice when you’re on the receiving end, is it?

“I love you! And I don’t want to be alive without you! You’re it for me Cas!” Dean’s not even sure at this point if this is life, or death, purgatory, heaven or hell, or the fucking empty. He just knows for some reason, somehow, Cas is standing in front of him, and it’s not a memory or a wish.

All of a sudden, Castiel launches towards him and before Dean knows it, his lips are pushed into Cas’ and oh my GOD, this is absolutely heaven.

He kisses Cas, for all the times he didn’t, all the times he wished he had the guts, and he kisses Cas with a vengeance. It takes a while, drunk in the feel and taste of Cas’ mouth, in between the sorrys, and the I love yous, and the I thought I’d never see you agains, before he decides that he needs to know.

“Cas… Is this real? Are you… are you real?”

“Yes, Dean. I don’t think I have ever been more real than I am at this moment…” Of course he has to make this sound romantic. Big doofus.

“But how?”

“Jack got me out… I, I wanted to come to you sooner but I wasn’t sure if you… Dean I didn’t know how you’d feel about me after what I said…”

“Well, I will be yelling at you some more for that later, but for now all I need you to know is I love you… and I need you to always come back to me Cas… Always!”

“I think I’d really rather stick around for good instead…”

“Well, that’s fine by me…”

*the end*

#I know #fix it #finale #supernatural #fuck gay super hell #fuck the empty #give dean his angel back #hawaiian shirts #matching obviously

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aerospectrum · 28 days ago

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"No, no not at all." Dean was fast to reject the idea that her reaching out to family was desperate. "I'd do the same thing if I could and I wouldn't spend a day feeling pathetic about it." he shrugged, running a hand through his hair and wiping the tired off his face. "So like what... you're looking for a trophy husband or something cause... I... might know a guy or something. I could give you his number if you wanted." he raised both brows at her, pressing his lips together and pushing them forward in a joking manner. “Only if you were interested though, heard he’s not too bad in the long run, might even let you be the big spoon if you ask nicely.”

"If these got infected you could've gotten really sick, Cas, I mean it." Sam cleaned the deep lines gently even after the pain meds kicked in, but Cas still seemed insistent on squirming around while he did. "You have to be careful now, Cas. Without power you’re... like us man, and humans get really sick and really hurt from infections. What would you have done if they hadn't found you?"

"I would've gotten my grace back and fixed all this." Cas grumbled in stubborn defiance. "I know how to care for myself." When Sam merely rolled his eyes Cas scowled at him. "I do." his voice was quieter, less sure of himself that time. Sam finished putting clean coverings on, then, as if to add insult to literal injury, he tucked Cas in on the couch and told him to take a nap. “I’m not a child… I’ve fought wars, I dragged your brother-.”

“From hell.” Sam said at the same time. “I know, Cas, but right now you need rest, those cuts need rest to heal. Stop being so stubborn and listen.”

“I listen.” He deadpanned softly but Sam’s stare broke him down. “I listen to Madison, she calls me her angel cakes… and we’re friends… and she’s going to take me to the store for ice cream.” He ranted indignantly, irritated with how Sam smirked at him. “I’m not a baby!” He snapped, rolling over so his back was to Sam. Pouting until he fell asleep. Like a baby.

Sam watched how Madison and Dean flirted around one another, how she'd pretend to need help reaching things, how Dean would puff up his chest in confidence when he was able to get exactly what she needed without struggle. "Are you two gonna actually cook anything or just make heart eyes and giggle like children?" Sam asked, raising his brows with a smirk. "Cas- sorry, my bad... uh, Angel Cakes doesn't want chocolate chips, I was supposed to tell you that..." he shrugged with a laugh and grabbed a few plates. “By the way, I don’t think he deserves ice cream… he literally ran away. He’s got a fever for one thing and those cuts could've gotten infected he could’ve gotten hypothermia and died out there you guys. I.. I think he’s earned a little… discipline.”

"So you're jealous you don't have a cute name either, huh?" Dean teased. "Don’t worry, Cas can’t stay her pretend favorite for that long, and if you’re nice maybe she’ll buy you a treat at the store too.” He teased. “What kind of fruit do you want me to cut up?" Dean turned his attention back to Madison.

Hearing dean stutter actually boosted her confidence. He was at a loss for words & that actually made her smirk to herself. It felt nice being on this side of the spectrum. “You know… you’re kinda cute when you’re stuttering.”

“Everyday.” She admitted. “I miss them every single day.” That was hard to admit. Her lips purse in a crooked way from discomfort at the thoughts. “I mean… maybe, maybe not. I write letters occasionally. But… never hear back.” She shredded at the thoughts. “Guess that’s pretty desperate of me huh? To crawl back to the family I ran off from…… pathetic even.”

“I guess I never thought of it. In a way, it would be like having a house husband. Doesn’t make money, but holds down the fort. You know?” She side eyed him curiously. “Someone who is dependable… fun, livens up the house. Someone who actually cares about me. Made has his own hobbies & passions.” She shifted a bit in her seat slightly uncomfortable. “I make more than enough to support myself & anyone else who comes… & maybe if I met someone who could handle me. I’d be more inclined to over look some aspects.”

“You’re just tired & not feeling good huh angel cakes?” She reached into the back seat & brushed her fingers through cas’ hair.

Once inside Madison convinced cas to let Sam look at the wounds. She wandered into the kitchen looking through her cupboards for pancake mix. Now she was an independent lady, but having some tall men around the house caused that independence to dwindle a tad. Suddenly she was struggling to reach items on the top shelf, forced to crawl up onto the counter to reach her mixing bowls.

#rpwiththelilflower #c; madison #c; dean (there ain't no other men like me)#c; castiel ( the abandoned son)

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mlobsters · 11 months ago

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supernatural s13e3 patience (w. robert berens)

recap including gutter bunny sam, huh. ok. i try to keep in mind too that even if there's a slight glancing reference to something, they'll put a whole ass clip in the recap. when it might just be a reminder that hey, vampires exist. demon blood makes people high. etc

if they bring missouri back to then hurt her, i'm gonna be pissed. i always wished she'd been a recurring character

i guess this is the grown up version of brotherly conflict, instead of lying and hiding things, we're gonna clash over whether jack is inherently evil

SAM Because we need to stay here. We need to help Jack learn how to control his powers. Jody can handle this. DEAN Yeah, maybe she can. Or maybe she ends up dead because you wanted to skip out on her to babysit the antichrist.

trying to remember if we're blaming jack for mom and cas "dying" somehow? lucifer is the responsible party there, crowley if we go back to lucifer being out to begin with. cas for lucifer being out originally and creating jack? anyway, just trying to rationalize dean being upset about mom and cas (and i guess crowley) and taking it out on sam in this way

sweet

MISSOURI He has his reasons. I’ll just stay behind, say my farewells to Dede. DEAN No, I don’t like that at all. MISSOURI You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it. You save my family, you hear me, Dean Winchester? DEAN Yes ma’am. MISSOURI Good. And thank you.

saw the "yes, ma'am" a mile away and was still good to hear. and he kind of folded in on himself looking a lot younger. just makes me sad. reminds me of times long, long since past. also lodging a complaint that she should come with purely for protection purposes

what the flying fuck was that? she just. stuck around to die. and she's dead. so she could be setup for saving her family?? what the FUCK, show. of all the one-off side characters, she was one that stuck with me straight away and you bring her back to immediately, and i mean IMMEDIATELY kill her. bullshit.

"the drama of the gifted child" and the awkward maneuvering in front of the laptop screen so he can miss jack moving. oy. this is just...

JACK Yeah well, Dean sees it. That’s why he says… he said he’d kill me. SAM He what? JACK And maybe he should. Mom said I could be good, that I had the choice to be good, that it was up to me. But she’s dead, because of me. I’ve only been on earth for a few days and I’ve already hurt people. I’ve already done bad things, and no matter how hard I try I can’t… I can’t do the one good, stupid thing you want me to. So I must be evil, like Lucifer.

i think i should have seen the allusion to sam feeling like a freak but we just met jack and this is all so... well. they want him to act like a person with no life experience and so it's all this disconnected childlike situation, but not really getting any sincere feeling emotion off him, also possibly because we just met him! no-win

JACK Sam, why are you being so nice to me? SAM Because I know what it feels like, to feel like you don’t belong. To feel like there’s this darkness inside of you, to be scared of who you are, what you can do. Dean, Cas, my family helped me through that. So now I want to help you, because you’re not evil, Jack.

glad they just said it straight out because i really don't think i was gonna reach this conclusion myself

dean so indignant, jody with the support and "cool it, bro" frown

find it pretty weird they're wedging in this missouri was actually a hunter backstory to make this plot shit work. also have some logistical questions how one feeds on a brain for an extended period of time without killing the brain owner

PATIENCE I talked to my dad. He thinks I should put it away. Dad says we should just get back to normal. Maybe he’s right. DEAN He is. This life, hunting, monsters, there’s no joy in it. There’s nothing but pain, horror and death. So if you get a chance at normal, you take it.

got the mushy music treatment.

JODY Patience, wait. I may be out of line here but you don’t have to listen to him. To either of them if it’s not what you really want. I had a daughter, I guess, Claire, and I asked her to stay in line, to fight who she really was because I thought it would keep her safe. It didn’t work, it never does. Your gift… or maybe you’re right, maybe it’ll go away. But if it doesn’t? You try to force it down to make someone else happy, you will only make yourself miserable. It’s your choice. But if you ever need someone to talk to or someplace to go, my door is always open.

and jody coming back with the realistic and less bitter advice, no more mushy music during this bit

DEAN I told him the truth. See, you think you can use this freak but I know how this ends and it ends bad. SAM I didn’t. DEAN What? SAM I didn’t ‘end bad’. When I was the freak, when I was drinking demon blood. DEAN Come on man, that’s totally different. SAM Was it? Because you could’ve put a bullet in me. Dad told you to put a bullet in me, but you didn’t! You saved me! So help me save him! DEAN You deserved to be saved, he doesn’t! SAM Yes he does, Dean, of course he does! DEAN Look, I know you think that you can use him as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! Because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we’ve lost! SAM Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack! DEAN And what about Cas? SAM What about Cas? DEAN He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!

well, thanks for the explainer as to why he blames jack for everything since i clearly couldn't get there myself. i call bullshit on that logic but whatever. dean's upset, he's being mean. there's certainly precedent for that for him too. and i guess we needed something awful enough to get jack to send some interdimensional DM to cas in the big empty

at least my irritation is prompting me to watch the episode faster and shut up more.

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 13x03 #robert berens #missouri moseley #spn mushy music #spnwhinge

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zepskies · 8 months ago

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😍😍 Thank you so much!! Can't wait to dive into your thoughts on Part 3. 😘

I love Denise too!! I made her the reader's aunt half for that reason, and to bring the reader into Beau's inner circle easier (like you pointed out).

I have to thank you for picking up literally EVERYTHING I was putting down in this chapter. 🤣 From the Smoke Eater "soil water" easter egg to "Pivot!" to "threatening to shoot the sheriff" (but not the deputy. A la Dean. 😏) Literally all of those were intentional lol.

Oh God, my worst nightmare whenever someone suggests that 😂 I'm with the reader on that one: is watching TV interesting enough? lol

Omfg same. 😂 Like idk? I barely have time between my jobs to write and veg in front of my couch. I binged a whole season of Friends in 3 days. I consider that fun and cool? ✌🏽

Ooop, someone likes himself a professor 😏 (Thank God she's English Lit and not Paleontology 😆)

What can I say? He likes 'em smart. 😏 (But lmfao not Paleontology. Unless it's Julie.)

I honestly have such a soft spot for Walter 🥺 (Also, Seth Gabel is such a good actor 👀) I didn't like Paige because I thought she was taking advantage of him. I was surprised to find out in the end she actually had feelings for him. That kinda came out of the left field 😅

I so agree!! First of all, he was awesome in that role. A mix of creepy and childlike. But I didn't buy Paige actually developing feelings for him either. I thought she was manipulating him too. (Like okay, she didn't ask him to take the fall for her, but she did manipulate him into stealing and watching the camp/antagonizing Luke for her.)

And I totally understand why reader feels guilty over Mary's death, but it really wasn't her fault. I hope she can forgive herself at some point ❤️

Yeah, I think we would all feel the same way, you know? Even though she couldn't have prevented this, she's always going to feel responsible on some level for not stopping Mary from going alone into the woods. 💔

Jesus effing Christ! No wonder she's so upset and wanted to move 🙈 What a giant ass-douchface her ex-fiance was. Honestly, that scum doesn't deserve her tears...

Ikr?? lol I promised it would make sense. 😂 You'll hear more about doucheface as we go along.

I absolutely loved their little get-to-know coffee date! 🫶 It was exactly what they both needed. Let's be honest, their past meetings were a bit awkward, considering the circumstances (tete-a-tetes with new husbands and murder investigations) 🤣

Aww I'm so glad you loved it!! That "someone who understands how you're feeling" was all too close, huh? Their past meetings were very awkward and unorthodox, to say the least loll. But they're finally getting their more conventional meet cute moment. 🥹 (With a side helping of grief/trauma splashed in.)

Lmfaooo nice John Lithgow gif. Love that guy. But yeah, Beau was sweet for wishing he had a proper tissue, at least. 😂

Gaaaah, I felt through Jenny throughout this chapter. I got all the little hints you dropped and loved the way you described her silent pain 💔

Aw I'm glad you picked up on that. I wanted to play on the S3 threads a bit there with Jenny. 💙

This is my favorite movie, btw. I just watched it last week again lmao 🤣❤️

I LOVE that movie!!! lol Makes me want to watch it tonight. Awesome cast, awesome writing, just my level of hopeless romantic. 💕

And did you have to make that hunk of a man move furniture? And SWEAT???? Dear fucking Lord, I-I- I'm not alive anymore. Pretty sure, yep... 🥵💦 (I was full with Denise with this one. And I could just imagine her gloriously shameless face the whole time as she thirsted over him 😆)

🤪🤪 I had to, I had no choice lmao. I think Denise represented all of us in this chapter. 🤣 (Now I wish I had a gif of Beau in a sweaty t-shirt, but alas.)

Wooohooo! Are we having another date? 👀 Welp, if she's not getting on a horse for Cormac, maybe Beau will actually do it for her 😝 Can't wait for all the riding... I mean horse riding next chapter! 😏😍🤍

That we are!! Or, well, a very date-like "non-date," if you will. 😆 And you already know where Cormack failed, Beau will certainly deliver. 😜

There will be even more "riding" puns to...eh...come!! 😏🐴🐴

As always, thank you for making me smile (and occasionally snort while sipping my glass of wine.~) 💕

Take Me Home - Part 3

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 3: Welcome Home

In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days.

He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.

They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow.

The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested.

And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection.

Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.

“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.

Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.

“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”

You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”

You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”

You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.

That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.

Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.

“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.

At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”

You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.

But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.

You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.

“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.

A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.

Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.

Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.

The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice.

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process.

You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”

He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.

And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.

“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”

His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head.

“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”

You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…

Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”

You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.

The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).

Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.

“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”

He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.

“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”

Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.

The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.

Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.

When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.

“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.

“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.

“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”

You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.

“Coffee sounds great,” you said.

You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.

It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.

In your experience, a good man was hard to find.

“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.

“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.

“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.

“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”

“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you.

“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.

“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.

“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand.

“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song.

Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.

Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while.

“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”

“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”

Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.

“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.

“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.

“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.

“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”

You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.

Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.

You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.

“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”

Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.

That struck a familiar bell.

“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.

He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”

Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”

You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.

“You have a brother?”

“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”

A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”

He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.

“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade.

You let out a wry chuckle.

“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily.

You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.

You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.

“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last.

Past tense, he noted.

“Good guy?” he asked.

“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines.

“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”

“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough.

“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said.

Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them.

Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.

“Jesus. How long?” he asked.

“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”

You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand.

“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.

“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.

Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories.

“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”

Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”

“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”

“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”

You shot him a look of amusement.

“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.

You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.

He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”

In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.

“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”

That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”

You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.

“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.

He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.”

You covered your face and laughed.

Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”

You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.

“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.

“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”

Beau recognized your hesitance.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”

You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.

Beau liked that smile too.

Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.

“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.

“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.

“Really?” Cassie remarked.

“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.

“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”

Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.

“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.

“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”

Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”

“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”

Beau rolled his eyes.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.

Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.

Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.

“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”

Beau shot her a wry look.

“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”

Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.”

He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”

“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.

“Hey! She can hear you.”

Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.

“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”

Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.

“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.

Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”

Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.

“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.

To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.

“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.

“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”

“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.

You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape.

Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.

“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”

Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.

“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.

“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.

Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.

“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.

Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.

“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.

“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.

“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.

“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.

“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.

“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.

She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.

Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.

That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.

“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.

“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”

Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”

After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.

While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.

Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.

“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.

“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased.

“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.”

Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.

Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.

The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.

Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.

“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.

Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.

“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”

It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended.

“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”

Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”

You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.

“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded.

“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”

You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.

“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.

He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”

Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.

Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.

“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.

There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends.

“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners.

“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”

You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea.

“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased.

“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.

Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.

Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes.

“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked.

That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.

“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you.

“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied.

“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in.

“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.

“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.

You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary.

“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”

You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.

“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.”

“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.

You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.

When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.

“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”

Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”

“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.

You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.

“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.

Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.

“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—”

“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.

He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”

You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?

…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.

“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice.

Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon.

Then you wished him a good night.

“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”

Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.

AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...

Next Time:

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck.

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look.

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lunmelia · 4 years ago

Text

A List of All of Sam Winchester’s Injuries

Now, this list might not be the most accurate. I did not sit down and watch every single episode in full, eyes glued to the screen for every time Sam got injured. I only skimmed. Here’s a gif I made to show how I did it:

(sorry it’s bad quality, it’s the first gif I’ve ever made) I skimmed through the episode and used the little preview screen to look for any time there was fast movement, blood or a spell that might require someone cutting their palm. I also kept an eye out for angel-banishing sigils. Since I only skimmed, there’s a chance I missed some injuries or even times that Sam was magically healed. So again, might not be an accurate list but I did my best. Feel free to tell me anything I missed.

Here’s a key to help you through the list: - most of this lists the actual injury, e.g. “cut on left temple” but other times it’ll list an action that may cause injury, e.g. “thrown into wall” - “thrown into / against” means that he impacted the object, but the object did not break / he did not go through it - “thrown through” means that the object broke on impact and he ended up on the other side - “internal pain” means that someone used magic to do something to him, but I have no idea what, all I know is that he looked in pain and was mostly gripping his stomach - “handcuffed” means actual handcuffs were used, “tied around wrists” means either rope or zip-ties were used - “punched” means just punched in the face, any other area on the body will be specified - any episodes that aren’t on the list means he wasn’t injured in them

Some misc notes: - I do not include injuries that don’t actually happen, e.g. future visions, nightmares, hallucinations or a fake reality - I might be inconsistent with the amount of times I specify what was used to knock Sam out, and not specifying. Sorry about that. It’s because I either just couldn’t see the object, or I was lazy that day - I don’t usually specify the size of the injury either, I usually just say “cut”, sorry. I only realised 6 seasons in that I probably should be specifying the size, and also taking screenshots, but I couldn’t be bothered going back back and fixing it, nor could I be bothered specifying the size from then on. I’m sorry, it was just going to feel weird if 6 seasons in I only then start specifying - I don’t include possessions as injuries, but I do specify when injuries happen while possessed - I include some commentary of what kind of injuries I thought should’ve happened based on the action - There’s also a list of Dean’s injuries, but there won’t be a list for Cas. Going into this, I only wanted to know Dean and Sam’s injuries for some redesigns I want to do, I didn’t feel it was necessary for me to know Cas’ because he won’t have scars in my redesign (at least his vessel won’t). Please don’t expect me to go back and make a list for Cas, this already took up so much of my time and I don’t want to do it again.

Let’s begin, shall we?

Season 1

1x1: Pilot - five holes in centre of chest from fingers 1x2: W*ndigo - falls down a hole 1x4: Phantom Traveler - head banged against wall 1x5: Bloody Mary - infected by Bloody Mary 1x6: Skin - tied to a chair around his neck, chest, hips, wrists and ankles - bottle smashed over head - tied around wrists - cut under right eye - punched - kneed - kicked into bookshelf - hit across face with pool stick - elbowed in face - tackled into table - strangled - cut on left side of forehead 1x7: Hook Man - stabbed in right forearm with hook - thrown into bookshelf that then falls on top of him 1x9: Home - strangled with lamp cord - thrown into walls and cabinets 1x10: Asylum - mind influenced by Ellicot - punched and knocked out 1x15: The Benders - cuts on both hands - cut on chin 1x16: Shadow - 4 claw marks across left cheek - wrists tied - cut across nose 1x17: Hell House - choked with an axe handle 1x18: Something Wicked - life force sucked out of him, process interupted before completed 1x19: Provenance - hit by a dresser 1x22: Devil’s Trap - punched - split lip

Hey! The post under the cut is really long! Please be sure you want to continue reading before clicking, because you’ll be scrolling for a while!

Season 2

2x1: In My Time of Dying - in a carcrash - 2 cuts on right cheek - cut near right eye - cut across nose - split bottom lip 2x3: Bloodlust - knocked unconscious with an iron - wrists tied - cut on left forearm 2x5: Simon Said - sprained wrist? his right wrist / arm is in a cast but I searched and it’s not there in the previous episode and nothing happens between then and this episode that would’ve caused it, so I have no clue what happened. If someone does please let me know 2x9: Croatoan - diagonal slice on upper left pec 2x10: Hunted - kneed - elbowed in face - kicked in face and through wall - cut on left cheek 2x14: Born Under a Bad Sign - burned with holy water (while possessed by Meg) - jumped out a window (possessed) - punched unconscious (possessed) - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles (possessed) - binding lock on right inner forearm, that’s a circle with a line going through - burn over binding lock (possessed) - punched 2x17: Heart - 3 slashes on left cheek 2x19: Folsom Prison Blues - handcuffed around wrists and ankles 2x20: What Is and What Should Never Be - strangled - hit in the head 2x21: All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 1 - abducted by Azazel (I’m assuming he was knocked unconscious) - super punched across yard - possible dislocated shoulder - stabbed in the back - DEAD 2x22: All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 2 - resurrected by demon deal

Season 3

3x1: The Magnificent Seven - thrown - strangled 3x2: The Kids are Alright - punched - kneed - thrown around 3x3: Bad Guy at Black Rock - strangled - fell over and scraped knees - fell again and knocked himself unconscious - punched - shot in left shoulder 3x4: Sin City - thrown into a windshield 3x7: Fresh Blood - thrown through a wall - thrown into a shelf - kicked in the face - face banged against table - cut on right eyebrow 3x8: A Very Supernatural Christmas - strangled - head banged against wall and knocked unconscious - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles - nail taken off right index finger - punched - thrown into a table 3x9: Malleus Maleficarum - thrown into a wall 3x12: Jus in Bello - handcuffed - punched - thrown against walls 3x13: Ghostfacers! - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles - cut on left cheek - thrown around 3x14: Long-Distance Call - knocked unconscious with a bat - tied (very tightly) around wrists - cuts around wrists where tied 3x15: Time is On My Side - head banged against steering wheel - chloroformed - strapped down to a table 3x16: No Rest for the Wicked - punched - thrown into a wall

Season 4

4x1: Laxarus Rising - tackled into table and chairs - punched 4x2: Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester - shoved into metal lockers, a wall and a mirror (probably has cuts on his left hand from it) - head banged on sink - cut above left eye - thrown into windshield - squashed between a desk and a shelf 4x4: Metamorphosis - thrown against a wall - punched and knocked unconscious - 5 little holes / cuts on left side of forehead 4x5: Monster Movie - thrown through fake wall 4x6: Yellow Fever - thrown around - head banged against floor 4x7: It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester - internal pain - punched - strangled - thrown into wall 4x8: Wishful Thinking - struck by lightning and knocked unconscious 4x9: I Know What You Did Last Summer - thrown down stairs - jumped out a window - horizontal slash on left outer bicep - punched - kneed - strangled 4x10: Heaven and Hell - choked 4x12: Criss Angel is a Douche Bag - tied down by his wrists and ankles 4x13: After School Special - punched (when he was a kid) - stabbed with a pencil on upper left pec - kicked in the groin and face - punched (as an adult) 4x14: Sex and Violence - cut on left side of neck - infected by a siren - punched - broken / twisted arm - tackled through a door 4x15: Death Takes a Holiday - hit in the stomach 4x17: It’s a Terrible Life - thrown into a shelf - thrown against a wall 4x19: Jump the Shark - knocked unconscious with a shotgun - tied down to a table by his wrists and ankles - horizontal cut on inner right forearm - gash on his left side - vertical slashes on both inner forearms 4x21: When the Levee Breaks - thrown around into walls - tied down to bed by wrists and ankles - punched - kneed - kicked

Season 5

5x1: Sympathy for the Devil - kneed - punched - broken left leg - lungs taken away (put back) 5x2: Good God, Ya’ll! - shoved into a shelf - strangled - hit with a bat - hit with a shotgun and knocked unconscious - tied to a chair by middle, wrists and ankles - cut above left eye 5x5: Fallen Idols - strangled - thrown into tables - thrown into a column - knocked unconscious - tied by wrists 5x6: I Believe The Children Are Our Future - thrown into a wall - strangled 5x7: The Curious Case of Dean Winchester - strangled 5x8: Changing Channels - hit in the groin 5x9: The Real Ghostbusters - super slapped - thrown around 5x11: Sam, Interrupted - tied down to a bed by wrists and ankles 5x12: Swap Meat - hit in both sides of neck with darts and passes out, body swapped with teenager - tied to a chair around middle, wrists and ankles 5x13: The Song Remains The Same - thrown through a wall - kicked - stabbed in the stomach with a pipe - DEAD (revived by Michael) 5x14: My Bloody Valentine - punched - handcuffed 5x15: Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid - handcuffed 5x16: Dark Side of the Moon - shot in the chest - DEAD (revived by Joshua) 5x17: 99 Problems - gash on left shoulder 5x18: Point of No Return - thrown into metal room divider - hemorrage (healed by Zachariah) 5x19: Hammer of the Gods - strangled 5x21: Two Minutes to Midnight - affected by pestilence (stopped later on) - faints - strangled 5x22: Swan Song - shot in the back and chest (while possessed by Lucifer) - jumped into the hell / the cage (Lucifer still possessing, but Sam in control) - DEAD - rescued from the cage by Castiel, however without his soul. Not sure if this required Cas to rebuild his body like he did with Dean, so I guess this part can be entirely up to your interpretation

Season 6

6x1: Exile on Main St. - horizontal cut on inner left forearm 6x2: Two and a Half Men - thrown around 6x6: You Can’t Handle The Truth - knocked unconscious - tied by his wrists - punched - strangled - three claw marks on right cheek 6x7: Family Matters - cut on left side of forehead - cut beside left eye - cut on left side of jaw - cut under right eye - bleeding out of right ear - broken nose - tied by wrists - Cas reaches into his... soul? idk what he reached into since he has no soul - (previouis injuries healed by Cas) - strangled 6x9: Clap Your Hands If You Believe - beat with a cane - cut on left side of hairline 6x10: Caged Heart - knocked unconscious - bites into his own right inner wrist 6x11: Appointment in Samarra - knocked unconscious with a baton - cut on left side of hairline - vertical gash on right side of right let - punched unconscious - handcuffed 6x13: Unforgiven - possible gash on right shoulder (not sure if that was his blood or someone else’s) - handcuffed - thrown face first into wall - tied up with webs 6x15: The French Mistake - thrown through a window - punched - internal pain 6x16: ... And Then There Were None - tied around wrists - electrocuted on his wright forearm, leaves a horizontal burn mark 6x19: Mommy Dearest - handcuffed 6x20: The Man Who Would Be King - thrown into a table 6x21: Let It Bleed - knocked unconscious 6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much - comatose (he wakes up)

Season 7

7x1: Meet the New Boss - cut on left palm 7x2: Hello, Cruel World - knocked unconscious with a pipe 7x3: The Girl Next Door - punched and knocked unconscious 7x5: Shut Up, Dr. Phil - internal pain - strangled 7x6: Slash Fiction - handcuffed 7x8: Season 7, Time for a Wedding! - poisoned with love potion - knocked unconscious with sandwich cooker - tied to chair by wrists and ankles - thrown into a table and knocked unconscious - strangled 7x11: Adventures In Babysitting - strangled - bit on left side of his neck x2 7x12: Time After Time - cut on left palm 7x14: Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magic Menagerie - punched - thrown into a windshield - kicked - hit with a wench - cut on left side of hairline 7x15: Repo Man - hit the back of the head with a piece of wood - thrown around 7x16: Out With the Old - thrown into a desk 7x17: The Born-Again Identity - hit by a car - broken rib - cut on his right outer forearm - cut on his left hand - cuts around his left eye - bruised and cut knuckles - skid marks on right elbow - tied down by his wrists and ankles - electrocuted 7x18: Party On, Garth - knocked unconscious 7x19: Of Grave Importance - ghost hand digs into back 7x20: The Girl With the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo - somersaulted through glass 7x23: Survival of the Fittest - strangled

Season 8

8x1: We Need to Talk About Kevin - horizontal cut on inner right forearm 8x2: What’s Up, Tiger Mommy? - thrown into a table 8x3: Heartache - thrown into tables and chairs - strangled 8x4: Bitten - strangled 8x6: Southern Comfort - elbowed - headbutted - kicked into a table 8x10: Torn and Frayed - strangled - threw himself against a door multiple times 8x11: LARP and the Real Girl - strangled 8x12: As Time Goes By - handcuffed - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 8x13: Everybody Hates Hitler - strangled for a second - dart in left side of neck and poisoned with spell - effects disappear once spellcaster dies 8x14: Trial and Error - arm glows and cramps with pain from completing the first trial 8x15: Man’s Best Friend With Benefits - thrown into a wall - knocked unconscious - thrown into a painting and tables 8x16: Remember the Titans - fell down stairs - flung back against ground - thrown against column 8x17: Goodbye Stranger - punched - tackled through glass door 8x18: Freaks and Geeks - knocked unconscious - tied to chair by wrists and ankles 8x19: Taxi Driver - punched - horizontal cut on left forearm x2 - thrown into a tree - hand glows and cramps with pain from completing another trial 8x20: Pac-Man Fever - punched - pushed into a fence - thrown around 8x21: The Great Escapist - really sick, passes out 8x23: Sacrifice - bit on left inner forearm - 2 cuts below right eye - cut on left palm

Season 9

9x2: Devil May Care - punched - thrown into a metal counter - head banged against wood 9x3: I’m No Angel - thrown through a glass door - punched - knocked unconscious 9x4: Slumber Party - hit in face with a piece of wood (while possessed by witch) 9x5: Dog Dean Afternoon - four claw marks on left side of neck (healed by Gadreel) - knocked unconscious 9x7: Bad Boys - thrown into a door - choked 9x8: Rock and a Hard Place - thrown through wood planks and knocked unconscious - burn on left lower side of torso, above liver 9x10: Road Trip - punched unconscious (while possessed by Gadreel) - tied to chair around wrists and ankles (possessed) - 2 needles in left temple (possessed) - needle in right temple (possessed) - needle in centre of foreheard (possessed) - (needle wounds healed by Cas) 9x11: First Born - needle in right side of neck 9x12: Sharp Teeth - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 9x13: The Purge - cupboard dropped on top of him - punched - kicked through a wall - strangled - split lip 9x15: #THINMAN - tasered unconscious - handcuffed 9x16: Blade Runners - cut on right cheek - cut on right side of neck 9x17: Mother’s Little Helper - punched into a pile of boxes - kicked - choked 9x19: Alex Annie Alexis Ann - hit in the gut - blood drained from both forearms 9x23: Do You Believe in Miracles - punched unconscious

Season 10

10x1: Black - broken arm (I have no clue how it got there) - punched unconscious - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles 10x2: Reichenbach - chokes on smoke / gas - punched unconscious 10x4: Paper Moon - strangled x2 - punched in the gut 10x5: Fan Fiction - knocked unconscious 10x7: Girls, Girls, Girls - punched 10x8: Hibbing 911 - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 10x11: There’s No Place Like Home - wrists and ankles tied - choked 10x12: About a Boy - elbowed in the face - thrown into a cabinet 10x15: The Things They Carried - thrown against a wall - strangled 10x18: Book of the Damned - strangled 10x19: The Werther Project - 2 horizontal cuts on right forearm 10x20: Angel Heart - knocked unconscious with pipe - handcuffed - headbutted - punched - thrown into a wall 10x22: The Prisoner - thrown through window and into tiled wall 10x23: Brother’s Keeper - punched - cut on left cheek - cut near left eyebrow, close to nose

Season 11

11x1: Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire - thrown into a shelf - infected by a rabid 11x2: Form and Void - burns the infection off (it’d be pretty sick if he actually had burn marks from this) 11x3: The Bad Seed - thrown into a pile of boxes 11x4: Baby - jagged cut on right cheek - 2 jagged cuts above right eye - (injuries hinted to be healed by Cas off screen) 11x5: Thin Lizzie - tied around wrists 11x6: Our Little World - headbutted - punched - strangled - throws shoulder against door multiple times - thrown against door and knocked unconscious 11x7: Plush - shoved against walls - strangled - thrown into cabinet - thrown against impala - knocked unconscious 11x10: The Devil in the Details - punched - cut beside left eye - headbutted - elbowed - cut on nose 11x12: Don’t You Forget About Me - hit in gut and face with sledgehammer - hit in back with piece of wood - falls off railing and hits titled floor - hit multiple times with piece of wood 11x13: Love Hurts - I assume he hit either a wall or a table, he was thrown but the impact wasn’t shown - choked 11x14: The Vessel - shoved against stone column - soul touched by Lucifer - cut on left palm 11x15: Beyond the Mat - thrown against a metal beam 11x16: Safe House - possibly cut one of his palms, I’m not sure if they purchased that blood or if it’s Sam’s - punched - thrown into counter - punched in the gut 11x17: Red Meat - thrown through table - shot in left lower torso - choked - body went into shock, heartbeat slowed down to almost nothing - cut on nose - falls down stairs 11x18: Hell’s Angel - either internal pain or choked 11x20: Don’t Call Me Shurley - infected by Amara’s fog, passes out - infection healed by God, probably 11x22: We Happy Few - Mark of Cain burned into his right forearm, process interrupted before completed 11x23: Alpha and Omega - strangled - shot in left thigh / knee

Season 12

12x1: Keep Calm and Carry On - tied to a chair by ankles and wrists (tightly handcuffed, looks like it could cut, maybe) - electrocuted - tortured with a cold shower - 2 burn streaks on right side of right foot - needle on right side of neck - drugged - punches a mirror - cut on left palm - kicked in the face 12x2: Mamma Mia - either stabbed in the mouth or a tooth taken out, they never show what actually happened - cut on left shoulder - cut on left cheek - cut on left side of forehead - elbowed in the face - (possibly healed by Cas, seeing as he’s completely fine in the next shot) 12x3: The Foundry - throws himself against a door multiple times - thrown into a shelf 12x4: American Nightmare - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 12x5: The One You’ve Been Waiting For - elbowed in the face - punched 12x6: Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox - thrown into a table 12x8: LOTUS - handcuffed around wrists and ankles 12x9: First Blood - DEAD (revived by Billie) - cut on left palm 12x10: Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets - punched 12x11: Regarding Dean - thrown into a bookshelf - ears profusely bleeding - tied to a chair by wrists 12x12: Stuck in the Middle (With You) - shoved into a wall - glass smashed over his head - fell through wood railing, over porch and impact on ground - punched - elbowed in the face - hit with pieces of flying wood - flung backwards - hit in gut, face and neck with base of spear 12x16: Ladies Drink Free - headbutted - falls back through wood room divider 12x17: The British Invasion - thrown into metal door 12x18: The Memory Remains - either hands or face hit with a hammer - face then clearly hit with hammer and he stumbles back into a pile of boxes 12x19: The Future - thrown through park bench 12x20: Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes - shoved into a wall - punched - thrown through table - strangled

Season 13

13x1: Lost and Found - thrown into a wall and knocked unconscious - strangled - thrown into a wall again - kneed in the face - punched - kicked 13x2: The Rising Sun - choked 13x5: Advanced Thanatology - thrown across floor and hits chair and table 13x6: Tombstone - thrown back into floor 13x7: War of the Worlds - kicked into wall 13x8: The Scorpion and the Frog - punched - thrown across floor - hit with rock and knocked unconscious 13x9: The Bad Place - hit in the face with base of angel blade 13x10: Wayward Sisters - hit in side and face with base of spear and knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 13x11: Breakdown - knocked unconscious - tied down to a table by wrists and ankles 13x12: Various & Sundry Villains - tackled onto hood of impala - strangled x2 - hexed to stay in one spot - thrown into bookshelf - thrown through table 13x13: Devil’s Bargain - thrown into beside table - internal pain 13x14: Good Intentions - knocked unconscious 13x15: A Most Holy Man - handcuffed - knocked unconscious 13x17: The Thing - possibly poisoned, I’m not sure but he faints after eating food - tied around wrists 13x18: Bring em Back Alive - tackled into control panel - punched in side - thrown against wall - internal pain 13x19: Funeralia - passes out from spell - tortured by Rowena’s magic 13x20: Unfinished Business - thrown into wall - strangled 13x21: Beat the Devil - neck torn out on right side - DEAD (resurrected by Lucifer) 13x23: Let the Good Times Roll - windows exploded behind him and he was flung back into the impala from the force of the explosion - punched - hard impact on ground - kicked in the face - strangled

Season 14

14x1: Stranger in a Strange Land - thrown through table and chair - punched - kneed in groin 14x3: The Scar - hit in back of knee with spear - tackled through table - punched - strangled 14x4: Mint Condition - hit in face - flung back against counter - knocked unconscious 14x9: The Spear - hit in back of head with bat - thrown into truck x2 - knocked unconscious - internal pain 14x11: Damaged Goods - hard impact against floor 14x13: Lebanon - either jumped to the side and hit the bookshelf or he was thrown from the force of the fire - hit in the side and face with gun - choked - punched - thrown through table - head banged multiple times against table - cut on nose 14x14: Ouroboros - thrown into counter - thrown onto table (during this, his back impacts a glass dead on and when I was 10 I jumped off a couch and my foot hit a glass dead on and my foot was cut open so I expect cuts on his back) - not able to breathe - temporarily blind - internal pain 14x15: Peace of Mind - brainwashed by the town / the witch, forgets who he is and thinks he’s someone else - hard impact on ground - almost gets his head blown off, process interrupted before completed 14x16: Don’t Go in the Woods - strangled 14x17: Game Night - punched - hit in the face with rock - shoved against impala - cut on left temple - cut and bruised knuckles - (all healed by Jack) 14x20: Moriah - thrown into bookshelf - shot in left shoulder with the Equalizer

Season 15

15x1: Back To The Future - cut on left side of torso, near waist (healed by Cas) - punched - kicked 15x5: Proverbs 17:3 - shoved against floor - thrown into wall - thrown back and knocked unconscious 15x6: Golden Time - internal pain x2 - hexed to spit up blood - wrists tied - voodo stabbed in chest - voodo arm twisted 15x7: Last Call - flung back into brick wall and knocked unconscious - partially healed by Sergei, bullet would still weirdly infected though 15x8: Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven - kicked - punched - strangled 15x9: The Trap - tied to chair by wrists - bullet wound dug around in with a scalpel 15x10: The Heroes’ Journey - punched - hard impact on ground 15x12: Galaxy Brain - hit in face and gut with sticks 15x13: Destiny’s Child - thrown 15x14: Last Holiday - fingernail taken off from 3 left fingers - thrown into wall 15x17: Unity - choked - punched - headbutted 15x19: Inherit the Earth - thrown into a bookshelf - thrown across beach - internal pain - punched - hit in the neck - kneed - kicked - kicked in the face - broken right arm - cut on left eyebrow - 2 cuts on left cheek - cut on right temple - (all healed by Jack) 15x20: Carry On - hard impact on ground - punched - knocked unsconscious - DEAD (old age, permanently)

#spn #supernatural #spn ref #supernatural ref #sam winchester #sam winchester ref #jared padalecki #blood tw #blood mention #injuries #injury tw #injury mention #injury ref #I'm DONE!! YES!! I can finally DRAW!! and just DO SHIT IN GENERAL!#I swear to god I am never attempting this kind of shit ever again it took up THREE WEEKS OF MY TIME #WHY DID IT TAKE UP THAT MUCH TIME????#anyways if you compare the two lists you'll see that Dean gets injured SO MUCH MORE than Sam #they really wanted to put Dean through pain huh #long post

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make-me-imagine · 3 years ago

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Our Little Secret

Prompts: "If there was ever anybody meant for me, it's you." + "I think…everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves” & Mar 12: Crowley checks in to make sure you are alright (no third prompt). Requested By: Three separate Anons.

Pairing: Crowley x GN!Reader; Y/n insert *maybe slightly ooc Crowley, who is a bit more "human" and lovesick.

Warnings: Brief mentions of injury; and a kiss at the end.

Words: 1.6k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo Supernatural Taglist: @kaashi, @witchygagirl

Crowley looked around the dingy hotel room, ignoring the quick turns of Sam and Dean as they drew their guns on him. Also ignoring their displeased groans, he clicked his tongue. "Lovely choice. Always a fan of the mysterious stains on the ceilings." He said with a smirk as he turned to the boys.

"What the hell are you doing here Crowley?" Dean asked.

Crowley shrugged lightly. "Bored?"

Sam squinted at him, giving Dean a look showing his disbelief. "Uh-huh. What do you want?" Sam asked.

Crowley lifted his arms in an open gesture. "Who said I wanted anything?"

"Well, you sure as hell didn't come just to check in on us."

"What if I did? Maybe I've grown fond of our time together" Crowley said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. His eyes cast over the room behind Sam and Dean. "You two aren't fun anyways, where is Y/n, my lovely little hunter go off on their own?" He asked casually, looking down and flipping through a journal on the table.

Dean walked over, slamming it shut, as he eyed Crowley. "Sorry Crowley, Y/n's not here for you to torture with your charm."

"How disappointing. Why's that. Did Y/n get tired of you two, and leave the nest? I'd applaud if they did."

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam adjusted himself awkwardly, looking between Dean and Crowley. "Y/n wasn't able to come on this hunt." He said casually, but noted how Crowley's attention grew as he turned to face Sam.

"And why's that?" He asked.

Sam furrowed his brow, noting the seemingly genuine curiosity in his voice. He looked over at Dean, who seemed to be distracting himself with something.

Looking back at Crowley he shrugged his shoulder. "Y/n got hurt on the last case, and had to stay back at the bunker to recover."

"Well I'm surprised they've made it this far, most in your company don't make it a year."

Sam was almost thrown by the amount of malice in Crowley's voice. Maybe he really hadn't been joking all those times he showed interest in you, and maybe 'his little hunter' wasn't just a teasing nickname after all.

"Hey!" Dean say turning around to face him. "If you aren't here for any real purpose, beat it, we've got a job to do."

Crowley shrugged. "Fine"

Sam and Dean let out breaths of relief when Crowley vanished from the room. Dean returning to his previous tasks, paying no more thought to Crowley. But Sam had a nagging feeling that he knew exactly where Crowley was going.

- - -

"So this is how you spend your days of recovery?"

You jumped as Crowley's voice came from nowhere, causing you to turn in surprise. You winced and let out a hiss of pain as you grumbled out in anger. "Don't do that."

Crowley frowned as he rounded the couch, seeing you adjust yourself with a pained expression. Pausing the show you had on the tv, you looked up at him. "What the hell are you doing here anyways?" You asked, trying to ignore your quick paced heartbeat, or the way you felt a chill crawl up your spine as Crowley looked you over.

"Came to check in. Heard from rocky and bullwinkle that you got yourself hurt."

"I didn't get myself hurt." You excused. "A building practically collapsed on top of me, there was nothing I could do about that."

Crowley shrugged his head. "Would you like me to..." he trailed off as he wiggled his fingers.

You grimaced. "Not if you're gonna do that."

He put down his hands with a sot smile. "From the amount of pain you seem to be in, you should be begging for my help."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh you'd just love that wouldn't you?"

He cocked his head and his smile grew. "Immensely."

You let out a short laugh. "Now why are you seriously here? It surely wasn't just because you heard I got hurt."

Crowley let out an annoyed groan. "Why does no one believe I have feelings?"

You furrowed your brow, watching him carefully. "Because you have failed to show an ounce of emotion that was not tied directly to your own benefit?"

He let out a small breath. "Doesn't mean one can't change." His voice was unusually soft as he spoke. Turning he began to pace around the room. "I mean, sure, I'm a demon, The King of Hell. But, I've helped you and the Winchesters more times that I can count, and I've actually cared about the things I helped with. Well, somewhat. So does that not show, that I at least have some semblance of emotion?" He spun around to look at you, noting how bewildered you appeared.

"You really care how we see you don't you? When did that happen?"

Crowley straightened up a bit, and cleared his throat. "I don't know. But don't you think it's possible? That I have the possibility of being....better?"

You watched him for a moment, wading through the confusion that washed over you. You could see the genuine feeling of aggravation in his face. "I- I think....that everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves."

Crowley felt a soft smile cross his face as he walked over to you. Looking down at you, he paused before reaching for your shirt. You froze, feeling your heart hammer in your chest and heat rise up your neck. Lifting your shirt slightly, he could see an array of bandages and bruises. He winced a bit. "That doesn't look good."

Placing his hand on your side, you felt heat wash over you as his hand and your body briefly glowed. You closed your eyes until the light faded. And when you opened them, you reached down and pressed your hand against our side, noting the lack of pain.

Looking up at Crowley you spoke softly. "Is this you trying to prove yourself?"

He smirked. "Not necessarily. But it is me trying to show you why I wish to prove myself." You cocked your head in confusion, and he turned away from you, taking a few steps before he continued. "I lied. When I said I didn't know when I started to care how you saw me. Honestly, I don't care how those two dimwits see me. It's your opinion I care about." He turned back towards you. "And it started from the moment we met."

You shook your head softly in disbelief. "But...why, would you care what I thought?"

Walking back over to you, he stopped light in front of you, staring down into your eyes. Reaching up, he hooked his fingers under your chin, and you felt an unfamiliar wave of emotion flow through you.

"Because I find myself caring about you. About everything to do with you. Where you are. What you need. What makes you smile, or laugh. And when you get hurt. I feel angry, and scared."

"You? Scared?" You almost laughed.

"What I have been feeling. For you. Are...feelings I have not felt for a very, very, long time. If not ever. And no matter what you truly think of me. I know what I think."

You swallowed hard, as you kept your eyes locked with his. "And what's that?"

"I think, that, if there was ever anybody meant for me, it's you."

You felt as though your heart had an anchor on it, as it beat so heavily in your chest, you weren't sure if you could keep breathing.

"I-" You tried to speak, but could not find your voice.

He smiled, a soft, yet sad smile as he dropped his hand from your face. "You don't believe me."

You shook your head a bit, finding some ability to speak. "No, I...think I do believe you, but I'm not sure if I should."

"Because of all my past treachery? I can't say I blame you. But I am surprised at our reaction. No disgust, no yelling. It's almost as if...you knew, was I obvious?"

You shook your head, unsure if you should speak. Crowley cocked his head, before a flash of understanding crossed his face, and a smile slowly broke out.

"No. It's because you feel something too. But it, what? Scares you? Disgusts you?"

You shook your head again. "It doesn't disgust me."

"But it scares you?"

"I-I don't know."

He smiled again, before leaning down, bringing his face up to yours. You didn't move away, but kept your eyes locked with his. Bringing his hand back up, he caressed your cheek.

He spoke in a whisper. "No. It doesn't scare you. And that, is what scares you. But it's alright my little hunter, it can be our little secret." Leaning in, he suddenly pressed his lips against yours.

You tensed in surprise for a moment, before you felt your body relax. Your mind went blank as he deepened the kiss, his hand cupping your chin as you tilted your face up to meet his. His other hand gripped the back of your head.

Bringing your hand up, you wrapped it around his wrist as you returned the kiss, forgetting where you were, and just who you were kissing. Suddenly, your phone rang from beside you, bringing you back to reality.

Pulling away, you opened your eyes, meeting his dark brown ones. A smile spread across his face. "Better answer that, it's probably the dynamic duo checking in."

Almost thoughtlessly, you reached for your phone. Looking at the screen, you began to answer it but paused as Crowley brought his head down to your ear, whispering "But remember darling. Its our little secret."

Turning to look at him, you said nothing before you answered the phone. Aware of his eyes on you the whole time you spoke to Sam. You felt a peculiar itch at the back of your mind, a restlessness wanting you to hang up the phone, to continue what you had been doing before. But you pushed it away, and as you spoke to Sam, you knew there was no way in hell you could tell him anything that had happened, not now, and maybe not ever.

xx End xx

I hate how I ended it, but it had to stop at some point and I couldn't think of much lol.

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sortasirius · 4 years ago

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“Unity” and the Broken Boys

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

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

First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He knows what he signed up for!”

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

“Jack’s not family.”

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

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

“I’m- I’m ready.”

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

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

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

AMARA

First of all, LOVE this structure.

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

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

“That wasn’t you writing?”

“Ugh, not that part. Gross.”

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

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

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

“Villains get all the best lines.”

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

“You can’t hold me here forever.”

“I can hold you long enough.”

DEAN

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

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

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

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

Yeah okay. Volume at 100 I get it lmao.

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

“Killing God is your plan?”

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

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

Adam’s rib.

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

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

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

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

And:

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

SAM

Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.

The box, the inscription, the door.

Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.

And there it is. The Empty.

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

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

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

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

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

The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.

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

And:

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

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

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

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

“We always have a choice!”

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

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

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

“What about me?”

“You’d trade me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you fucking kidding me?

Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:

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

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

But we ain’t done yet, fam.

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

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

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

#welcome to my essay lmao #supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x17 #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #amara #chuck shurley #lilly liveblogs supernatural

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years ago

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

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Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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sibsteria · 4 years ago

Text

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural #jack kline #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline smut #jack kline imagines

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45percenterthen · 4 years ago

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Belated bday fic for bearer of cursed fruit facts @seraphlm and thee plant dad cas truther @cactuscas !! Love u guys v much, happy bday <3 (ao3 link here)

“Fuck’s a horoscope again? It’s like, stars and shit, right?”

He bumps Cas’ elbow, who’s squinting at one of his fern-looking-things like he’s experimenting with horticultural telepathy. The saga of the fern-thing has been turbulent, to say the least. It’s wilting a bit, leaves curling in on themselves like tiny fists. Cas has spent the past few days carting it from one window ledge to another, muttering to himself about humidity levels with a familiar air of irritated devotion. Dean reckons the whole underground bunker situation probably isn’t helping. It’s well travelled, though, for a plant. Dean thinks it should be more grateful.

Cas nods, releasing a leaf with a sigh and sitting down next to Jack. “Indeed. Stars and shit.”

Jack’s engrossed in some magazine, finger tracing the words as he reads. Cas reaches for the edge of the page to hold it taut for him, and Dean can practically see his other hand itching for his phone. Diagnosis time for the fern-thing. Dean’s never seen a favorites bar so wholly taken up by gardening websites. Dean’s pretty sure the definition of true love is pausing Die Hard to read an article about potting soil drainage.

“Do you want to hear yours, Dean? It’s for this week.”

“Sure, kiddo.” To be honest, Dean thinks the concept of fate can very much, actually, go fuck itself. Jack looks delighted though, so he keeps it to himself. He stirs a bit of extra butter into the eggs because that’s the way Jack likes them, dutifully not looking at Cas to avoid a depressing conversation about his cholesterol levels.

“Oh! It says you’re lucky this week, Dean!”

“Awesome, bud! Time to stock up on the scratch cards, eh?”

Sam chooses that moment to come lumbering in. The state of his hair suggests a sleepless night, or that a recent localized hurricane that targeted his bedroom only.

“Hi Sam! We’re reading horoscopes. Dean’s an Aquarius.”

“Oh, cool.” Eileen had been delayed on a salt and burn with some of the new-hunter-network people. Sam looks suitably mopey about it, forlorn housewife that he is. “Mercury’s in marmalade, and all that.”

“Aquarius is ruled by Uranus,” Jack continues, and Sam instantly chokes. On air, apparently. Bastard.

“One more time, Jack? Dean’s ruled by his –”

“You’re a child, Samantha.” Dean looks around for the nearest something-painful-not-fatal to throw at him. Plant’s a no. Instant divorce. He glances at the eggs, but decides he doesn’t want to spend his morning getting egg yolk outta the tile grouting.

“Dude, oh my – I should’ve just checked your horoscope,” Sam walks over to the fridge, catching the Mary Berry’s Baking Bible that Jody sent them for Christmas in mid-air. “Would’ve saved us a talk.”

“Eat your pineapple and shut up, man.”

“Did you know that pineapples are technically berries?” Jack says. Dean wonders if Cas introduced him to WebMD-for-plants. Or maybe this is just a side effect of being The New God on the block. Berry omniscience. “Well. The outside bit is. Bananas are berries too.”

“That’s weird,” Sam closes the fridge door. Stares into his bowl like he’s offended. Dean’s offended Sam eats nothing but fruit in the morning. “After the heaven rebuild. You should, like, fix berries.”

Jack turns to Cas solemnly. “Should I fix berries?”

“Perhaps you should concentrate on heaven, first. Then we can see about berries.”

“I don’t want to ruin the fabric of our established universe,” Jack says, and Dean’s struck, once again, with the sudden realisation that he’s making eggs for the most powerful entity in Creation. Mondays, man.

“I don’t think Chuck had any such purity of intent in mind,” Cas says darkly, pouring more milk into God’s glass for strong bones and teeth, and yeah, Dean’s pretty keen to steer Cas away from that particular line of conversation.

“Hey, what’s Cas’ horo-whatever?” He takes the eggs off the heat and walks over to the table, leaning over to see what the hell magazine this is, actually. Looks Rowena-y. Is the Queen of Hell sending his son-God care packages? That’s one way to establish diplomatic relations.

He rests his hands on Cas’ shoulders, stroking his thumbs at the neckline of his t-shirt when he feels tension. He decides against pressing a kiss to Cas’s hair. Just ‘cause he’s with a dude now, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be all gay about it. Cas’ left hand comes up to cover his own. Their rings clink.

“Cas doesn’t have a birthday, though.” Jack frowns at the page slightly, apparently looking for the section on fallen angel anomalies.

“Then we’ll have to pick one –” Dean starts, just as Cas says, “September eighteenth.”

Cas tips his head back against Dean’s chest, peers up at him. He’s got dried toothpaste at the corner of his mouth. Dean grins stupidly at his upside-down face. “September eighteenth, yeah.” Something swoops in his chest. Cas is earnest, and it’s unbearable. He loves at full volume, and Dean’s as grateful as he is undeserving. He squeezes Cas’ shoulder. Tradition, and all that.

Jack taps the page. “It says you’re a Virgo, Cas!”

They’re still staring at each other as Jack starts reading aloud. Dean brushes hair off Cas’ forehead and thinks, for once, he’s landed himself the permanent kind of happy. Dean’s pretty sure he’s loved him for years and years, quietly, achingly.

There’s the sound of cutlery against ceramic, and Dean looks up to check Sammy’s not weeping into his fruit bowl out of sheer girlish pride or whatever. He’d made it six words into his best man speech before the waterworks. Dean’s never letting him live it down.

⁂

“So,” Dean says later, after Sam’s gone to collect Eileen from town, and Jack’s off on heavenly refurb duty. “My lucky week, huh?”

Dean circles his arms round Cas’ midriff. Lets his chin rest on his shoulder, because he can, and also to check Cas isn’t half-assing the washing up.

“Apparently so.”

Dean hums. It’s funny. They’re married. And yet moments like these, the big ones, still manage to make him a bit nervous. It’s stupid. He’s hardly gonna say no. But Dean supposes they’ve never managed to get anything in the right order. Two deathbed confessions amidst a decade of friendship. An ‘I love you too’ echoing off brick in an empty room. Two kids co-parented before they even kissed, and they were already living together when they started dating. Someone get Nicholas Sparks on the phone.

“Perfect week to put an offer down on a house then, right? That one on the lake?”

Cas drops a fork into the bubbles. He turns his head to reply and Dean takes it as an opportunity to kiss what’s within reach. The smile lines around his eye, his temple greying with the proof that Cas loves him. He’s all in. Dean is too, terrifyingly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude.” Dean nods at the fern guy. “Your plants would appreciate the sunlight, right? And there’s a room for Jack.”

Cas spins in his arms, leaning against the sink to look Dean in the eye. Dean grabs at his soapy palm, intertwining their fingers, confident in his sappiness when no one’s watching.

“I know I always say Sammy didn’t make the most of his college experience, but dorming in my forties isn’t exactly what I meant –”

“You’ll miss him, though.”

“Of course, man. Lived with Sam my whole life. But,” Dean relinquishes the hand to cup Cas’ face, “I kinda wanna do my own thing now. With you. So, move in with me, Mr. Winchester? Somewhere… overground?”

It’s so off-your-feet sweepingly romantic Dean feels like he deserves a medal. Maybe this is their karmic justice after the proposal debacle.

Cas is smiling at him, soft and sweet. “Okay, Dean.” He puts wet hands around his waist and Dean doesn’t even care that it’s seeping through his t-shirt. “Lake house it is.”

Dean leans in, kisses him three times in response. He lingers on the last one, smiling against Cas’ mouth. Cas knows what he means.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #zoesarahbday #deancas fic #bro I will shoehorn zoe’s cursed pineapple knowledge into this fic if it kills me #my writing

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curlynerd · 3 years ago

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You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam