#which explains to me why he punches past!dean out to get him out of the way

[according2thelore]

oh IIII want a lesson in angst and torture!!!! me me me!!!!

seriously though that last ask was amazing and I love ESdean’s voice in it so much he’s perfect. and i think we would all be thrilled to read anything you wrote!!!

HAHAHA, well, ask and ye shall receive, anon!

this is in reference to one of my last posts, about LS!Sam&Dean setting up ES!Sam&Dean to see them kiss, and kickstart the conversation about...y'know. what's going on here? i originally misread the first anon's ask as "what if ES!Sam&LS!Dean walked in on LS!Sam&ES!Dean kissing"--a total switcharoo. full of angst and torture, as mentioned here. i wrote the whole thing and was about to click post, but re-read the prompt and kicked myself in the shins.

i don't consider this canon to the ES/LS verse i've written (can there be such a thing as "canon" when we're kickin' it like this, team?) i mention a little lower in this post why i think it wouldn't go down like this, but let's get into it!

i present: four men punching a wall and throwing up

it's been coming for a while. they all know it has.

the gestures between LS!Sam and ES!Dean have gotten more frequent as time has gone on--LS!Sam's hand on ES!Dean's back, ES!Dean watching LS!Sam with rapturous eyes as he explains one thing or another.

no one mentions it, but they've all caught the looks. ES!Dean will tap on the wheel of the jeep that LS!Dean let them borrow (and of which he reinstalled the spark plugs in a frenzy) and sing along to music, too young and happy to be self-conscious, and LS!Sam will watch him like he hung each individual star with the express intention of making sure LS!Sam likes them. 

ES!Dean will moan while taking a bite of pie at the diner up the road, and LS!Sam will have to suddenly and urgently use the bathroom, leaving ES!Sam shifting awkwardly at the table and LS!Dean trying not to slam his head through the window.

all this to say, it's not a surprise to anyone except ES!Dean when it happens.

and it's only a surprise to him, because he doesn't mean to do it.

they're out at the store, the first time it happens. ES!Dean's trying to convince LS!Sam to buy cereal that's literally just mini chocolate chip cookies. 

"c'mon, sammy!" dean cajoles, "it'll start your day off with a smile." 

LS!Sam rolls his eyes and puts the cereal back, high up enough on the shelf that dean can't even reach it. dean balks, because this is the first time that this has happened to him, ever.

"yeah, well i want you around past age fifty, so we're buying the fibre one." sam shakes the bland box at him with a sarcastic smile. "you and your healthy heart will have to deal." 

dean watches him put the box in the cart, and dean just...kisses him. 

dean immediately starts apologizing, a steady stream of Oh My Fucking God, I'm So Fucking Sorry Sam, Please Don't Tell the Others. I'm So Sorry. You're So Pretty, Sammy. All the Damn Time. I Can't Stop Looking At You. I Know I'm Not Your Dean, I Never Should Have. I Mean--Shit--I'm Your Brother--!

and LS!Sam shuts him up by kissing his dumbass again. ES!Dean squeaks. genuinely squeaks. the kiss is chaste and over in the time it takes to inhale.

"you are my dean." LS!Sam says, rolling his eyes. "come on, eggs are next." and strolls right away, leaving dean gasping for air in his wake.

dean is hooked. he's fucking addicted. 

LS!Sam doesn't even count it. the real first one, in his opinion, is the one in the kitchen.

ES!Dean is standing over the stove, stirring something with an intense set to his jaw. LS!Sam comes up behind him, and they talk for a few minutes about nothing in particular, about how their days have been, about what LS!Dean&ES!Sam have been up to. sam finally asks what he's making, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"mac and cheese," dean replies, looking a little nervous. "i--i can't stop worrying about" he gestures vaguely, frustrated pull in his brow. "your-past-my-future. but...y'know. i used to make you this when you were small." dean looks like he's going to implode with embarrassment. "we share this past. so. whatever."

LS!Sam grabs him on either side of his face, callused palms on freckled cheeks, and pulls him up into a kiss. dean melts against him immediately, kissing him frantically bc he thinks this is the last chance he'll get.

it's slow and hot and filthy, and sam's stubble burns dean's skin. it's been a long time since dean's kissed a man, and the fact that this man is sammysammysammysammy has dean shaking and grabbing at sam with big, desperate hands.

every kiss they trade after the fact, sam can't help but press down on the scar on his palm. it's been a while since he's needed it, but this feels too unreal: the ability to kiss a dean with a sharp tongue and adoring eyes and so much enthusiasm for life that sam could get high off of it. 

he spent decades lusting after this man, loving this man, that being able to love more than one version of him is almost too much to bear.

dean might notice the hand, but he doesn't comment on it. he's learned the hard way that some things about LS!Sam are inaccessible--they were created to be that way.

nothing too much changes the way they interact except the want is so much sharper, now. 

"goodnight, sammy," ES!Dean always says, leaning forward into LS!Sam's chest, hands at his sides, almost like he's afraid of being caught out for doing it. he noses against sam's collarbone, barely there, before swaying away again. 

sam then crawls into LS!Dean's bed, and kisses him hard. "i love you so fucking much" he wants to say--and maybe he does--and LS!Dean rolls his eyes and kisses him back and calls him a girl. but sam has tears in his eyes, so dean just tucks him under his arm and they go to sleep like that.

"did mini me prance through a field of flowers? or sneeze like a kitten?" dean mutters into the nape of sam's neck, but sam just turns over so he can tuck his nose under dean's jaw.

("he loves me" sam maybe says, completely overwhelmed, and maybe dean scoffs and says "fucking duh. he's me.")

he's addicted. they're both addicted. 

and while ES!Sam&LS!Dean have their suspicions, they don't know anything for certain. how would you even bring that up? especially for a ES!Sam&Dean that haven't had that conversation yet?

in my head, i'm hoping that ES!Sam&Dean have that conversation (led by much cajoling and almost entrapment by LS!Sam&Dean) before LS!Sam&ES!Dean start anything. a frantic kiss that LS!Sam pulls away from, telling him to talk about it with ES!Sam because ES!Sam&Dean's relationship is too important to LS!Sam for him to jeopardize it.

but, if LS!Sam&ES!Dean do start something, i think it would get out of hand.

and if LS!Dean&ES!Sam do find out, it's damning. 

ES!Dean leans over and kisses LS!Sam on the couch, and LS!Sam pulls him into his lap, slow. "i'm not a fuckin' girl," ES!Dean says, trying to hop off of him, but LS!Sam's hands almost cover his entire waist, and Dean forgets what he was going to say when LS!Sam kisses him. 

"what the fuck" from the doorway. the words are hollow. toneless.

ES!Sam is standing there, framed by the light from the hallway. he's shell-shocked, taking in ES!Dean half-crawled into LS!Sam's lap, their mussed hair, their swollen lips.

"what's wrong?" an urgent voice, and LS!Dean is standing behind him. 

silence. for a long, impossible second.

they start talking all at once.

No No No Sammy It's Not--I'm Not--He's--

and ES!Sam is a fucking inferno, because this is all wrong, it's so wrong. 

"he was mine!" ES!Sam screams, and LS!Sam pales. "we've been trapped here! you're disgusting--i--i can't believe you would--" his voice cracks, hard, and he turns around a leaves without another word.

LS!Dean doesn't say anything. but i imagine that it's almost as bad for him as it is for ES!Sam. because here sam is, being undeniably attracted and compelled towards this young, fresh, unscarred version of him. even though he gets it more than ES!Sam--because, Hell, he can't look away from ES!Sam either--that boy is so damn possessive that it's practically torture.

he leaves without a word.

ES!Dean has a full-tilt meltdown. he thinks the 'you're disgusting' is for him, and he can't look at himself, he can't look at LS!Sam, he's pacing the room looking like his world is falling apart.

"he's right," LS!Sam says, looking forlorn, and ES!Dean is three seconds away from blowing his own brains out. "he should've been the one to kiss you first." 

and ES!Dean lets out a bitter, hard laugh, like "he doesn't fucking want me, sam. don't bullshit me." 

but LS!Sam begs ES!Dean to talk this out with ES!Sam, running fingers over his jaw and his pushing him away gently with a hand in the middle of his chest. 

i think that because these boys can never talk for shit (and LS!Sam is talking a big game like he and LS!Dean communicate at all), it would take them a second to make up.

i think that it would be a lot of avoidance, and a lot of ES!Sam sleeping in different rooms. 

(in my head, i imagine that the ES!boys were given a room together with two double beds, at first bc they don't trust their surroundings and then bc they're just used to it)

ES!Dean is all levels of kicked-puppy injured, and ES!Sam is still just so furious and heartbroken because he was betrayed by TWO people here: his own older self, for swooping in and changing his relationship with his brother whether he was ready for that or not and also by ES!Dean, who will officially try to fuck everyone in the world except for ES!Sam.

he's capable of wanting sam, but not this sam, not you. you're the broken one here, the wrong one.

~~~

thank you for this ask, anon! i was (as mentioned previously) committing shin violence on myself for writing almost 1.6k words of the wrong prompt.

i hope you enjoy it! and EEE thank you for the ES!Dean voice comment, that makes me so happy to hear!

have a lovely day, anon, and i hope this lesson in angst and torture was better than an intro to engineering course, at the very least.

-lizzy

[abbatoirablaze]

Angels & Demons, Chapter 15

Word Count: 2.1k  

Warnings:  angst, manipulation, emotional torment.

“Everybody leaves you, Dean.  You notice?” the version of his mother asked, ”mommy?  Daddy?  Hannah...even Sam...because that’s all you are to them, Dean.  A burden.”

“Dean...”

“You ever ask yourself why?” she taunted, “maybe it’s not them.”

“Don’t listen to her, Dean!” she begged, pulling on his arm, “she’s not your mom.”

“Maybe it’s you!” she smiled.

“Easy now, kitten!” Zachariah teased as he joined the version of Mary.

“You did this!”

“And I’m just getting started!” he smiled, “I mean, guys...did you really think you could just sneak past me into mission control?”

“Son of a bitch!”

“You know, I’d say the same thing about you, Sam,” Zachariah teased, “but I have actually grown quite fond of your mother.  Or at least the blessed memory of her.”

He leaned in and pressed a few soft kisses to her neck.  Dean and Sam visibly flinched and averted their gaze, while Aria glared at Zachariah.

“I think we’re gonna be logging a lot of quality time together,” he smirked, “I’ve discovered she’s quite the...milf.”

“You can gloat all you want, you dick.  You’re still bald.”

“In heaven I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion,” he explained, “you see this because you’re...limited.”

“Stop torturing them, Zachariah!”

He frowned and snapped his fingers.  Mary disappeared.

“Let’s brass-tack this, shall we?” he asked.

“What, you gonna ball gag us until we say yes?” he teased, “Huh, yeah, I’ve heard that tune.”

Zachariah threw a punch into Dean’s chest, and he grunted as he doubled-over.

“DEAN!”

“I’m going to do a lot more than that,” he taunted, “I cleared my schedule.  Get him up.”

He hit Dean again and Aria fought against her captor, “leave them alone.  Leave Dean alone, Zachariah!”

“Let me tell you something,” he chuckled, leaning into Dean’s ear, “I was on the fast track once.  Employee of the month-every month.  Forever. I’d walk these halls and people would AVERT THEIR EYES!  I HAD RESPECT.  And then they assigned me you.  Now look at me.  I can’t close the deal on a couple of pathetic flannel-wearing maggots.  Everybody’s laughing at me.  And they’re right to do it.  SO yes, don’t say yes.  I’m still gonna take it out on your asses. It’s personal now boys.  Let’s start off with a little teaser, shall we?”

“What are you going to do to them?”

“Oh, I’m not doing anything to them,” he smiled, “You.  Dean cares about you, Aria...but does Sammy know just how deep it goes?”

Dean looked at her, and she averted her gaze. 

In front of them was a motel room.  A much younger Dean, and sixteen-year-old Hannah were sitting on opposite beds. 

“Stop!” Dean growled, glaring at Zachariah.

“What the hell is this, Dean?”

She stopped her braiding and looked at the older man, “Dean...”

He didn’t pay her any mind, and she frowned. 

He looked at Aria.

How had he never noticed that.

She crawled off of her bed and went to his bed, crawling over his frame until she was straddling him.  Dean watched her, unable to move while she grabbed his beer and took a swig of it.  Setting it down on the night table, her face screwed up into one of disgust.  Dean’s eyes widened in shock, “what are you doing?  M-My dad will kill me if-shit.  Your dad will kill me-”

Sam noticed his brother’s hands twitch at his sides, the younger Dean forcing himself to not move. 

“What the hell is this?” Sam asked.

“Ask your brother,” he chuckled, “this was one of his fondest memories after all.”

Sam watched as Aria started playing with his flannel and bounced up and down on his lap, “come on, Dean.  I’m bored.”

“Y-you’re always bored!”  he stuttered, trying to ignore her.  He reached away and grabbed the remote as she continued to bounce suggestively on his lap, “Hannah...”

Her hands braced themselves on his chest and he pushed himself back against the headboard so that he was in a more seated position and grabbed the bottle, taking another drink. 

“Oh god,” she groaned, her features smushing in disgust as she watched him drink it without problem.  Dean shuddered as her hands stopped at his belt line, “how do you like that stuff?”

And suddenly it wasn’t a scene that the three of them were watching. 

Aria’s eyes lit up, horrified as she found herself in the bed, straddling Dean, while bouncing up and down on his lap.

She’d remembered the emotions she felt when she looked at him. 

She remembered how much she wanted him.  How she wanted to be his everything.  How she wanted to give him everything.

Dean’s eyes worked themselves over her body. 

The glass had already fallen to the ground, and she was hovering over him as he held a firm grip on her to stop her from falling. 

Her hips were peeking out from her shorts. 

Her breasts were heaving in his face. 

His hard-on was poking her thigh. 

“I-I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be!” he whispered, tilting her chin down towards his until their lips met in a heated kiss. 

Sam’s eyes went wide as he watched Aria and him making out on the bed.  Zachariah chuckled, “what, Sam?  Didn’t know big brother was doing things with the little Nephilim when she was still playing in the kiddie pool?  If it makes you feel better, she’s actually hundreds of years old…so it’s like she’s the one taking advantage of him.  Kind of how you and Dahlia are…you Winchesters…you seem to have an affinity for older women, don’t you?  Mommy issues?”

“Make them stop!”

“Can’t,” he shrugged, “they have to re-live the memory to completion.”

“That’s bullshit!” he growled, “make them stop, damn it!”

“What?  Seeing big brother and his little crush like that make you feel sick to your stomach?  That’s just a taste of the torment I could put you through.  I know both of your deepest secrets” he growled, snapping once more.  Aria and Dean were back in the arms of their captors, looking beyond embarrassed, “see what I can do?  I could force the two of you to relive the memories that you share.  It’s not like when you’re walking in here on your own.  I can make you reenact them like puppets.  I can do that until the end of time up here.  You’re my god-damned marionettes.  What do you say, Sam?  Want to relive how you and Dahlia slept together?  Sure big brother would love to see how you got your rocks off with Lucifer’s daughter.  Or do you want to see the memory that made little Hannah run off?  I’m sure the two of you remember that moment, don’t you Dean?  Remember how Hannah was ready to give you her virginity and you turned her down because she was ‘just a kid?’  You didn’t have that problem when she went down on you!”

“What do you want?” Dean growled, angry at having been used and exposed. 

“Funny...now you care,” he chuckled, “when beforehand, it seemed like you idiots were going out of your way to piss me off.  But now you see. The last person in the history of creation you want as your enemy is me.  And I'll tell you why-Lucifer, he may be strong.  But I-I'm petty.  I'm gonna be the angel on your shoulder for the rest of eternity.” 

“Excuse me...sir?”

“I’m in a meeting!” Zachariah said in an annoyed tone, gesturing to Aria, Sam, and Dean.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, apologizing nervously, “I need to speak to those three.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a bad time, I know.  But I’m afraid that I have to insist!”

Zachariah scoffed at the man, “you don’t get to insist jack squat.”

“No, you’re right.  But the boss does.  His orders.”

Aria gasped, recognizing the angel, “Joshua.”

“You’re lying.”

“Wouldn’t lie about this.” the man explained, “look.  FIre me if you want.  Sooner or later, he’s gonna come back home.  And you know how he is with that whole ‘wrath’ thing.”

Zachariah looked back at the Winchesters, before disappearing.  The three of them looked at the man, and a garden appeared around them. 

“You’ve done well in following my instructions, Aria!” Joshua smiled at her.

“Y-you.  You’re the voice.”

He nodded, “I am.”

“This.  This is heaven’s garden?” Sam asked.

“It’s nice.  I guess.”

“You see what you want to here.  For some it’s god’s throne room.  For others, it’s Eden.  For you two, I believe it’s the Cleveland Botanical Gardens.” he explained, “you came here on a field trip once.  It was the most beautiful bit of nature you thought you’d ever seen.”

“You’re Joshua.”

“I’m Joshua.”

“So, you...talk to god.”

“Mostly, he talks to me.”

“Well, uhm...we need to speak to him!” Sam explained, “it’s important.”

“He knows about what’s going on down there...and with our little sister, Caitlyn,” Dean added in, “Where is he?”

“On Earth.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know where on Earth?” Sam asked.

“No, sorry.” he apologized, “We don’t exactly speak face to face.”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t get it,” Dean frowned, “God’s not talking to nobody, so...”

“Why is he talking to me?” He asked.  Dean nodded, “I sometimes think it’s because I can sympathize-gardener to gardener.  And between us, I think he gets lonely.”

“Well, my heart’s breaking for him!” Dean said sarcastically.

“Well, can you at least get him a message for us?”

“Actually, he has a message for you!” he frowned, “Back off.”

“What?”

“He knows already-everything you want to tell him.” he replied shortly, “he knows what the angels are doing, and he knows that the apocalypse has begun.  He just doesn’t think that it’s his problem.”

“Not his problem?” Dean asked.

“God saved you already,” he replied, “he put you on that plane.  He brought back Castiel.  He’s allowing your sister and his spawn to exist.  He’s granted you salvation in heaven.  And after everything you’ve done too.  It’s more than he’s intervened in a long time.  He’s finished.  Magic amulet or not, you won’t be able to find him.”

“Wait...did you say, our sister and Castiel’s spawn?” Sam asked.

“But he can stop it,” Dean argued, missing the former information, “he could stop all of it.”

“I suppose that he could.  But he won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why does he allow evil in the first place,” Joshua asked, “you could drive yourself nuts asking questions like that.”

“So, he’s just gonna sit back and watch the world burn?”

“I know how important this was to you, Dean,” Joshua sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Well forget it.  Just another deadbeat dad with a bunch of excuses,” Dean growled, “I’m used to that.  I’ll muddle through.”

“Except, you don’t know if you can’t this time,” Joshua admitted, “you can’t kill the devil and you’re losing faith.  In yourself.  Your brother.  And now this.  God was your last hope.  I wish.  I just wish that I could tell you something different.”

“How do we know that you’re telling the truth?”

“You think that I would lie?” he asked.

“But it’s just-you're not exactly the first angel that we’ve met.”

“I’m rooting for you boys,” he argued, “you, and your sister.  And even you and Dahlia, Aria.  I wish I could do more to help you.  I do, but I just trim the hedges.”

“So, what now?” Dean asked.

“You go home again,” he acknowledged, “I’m afraid this time won’t be like the last.  This time...god wants you to remember.”

He held up his hand, and they were surrounded by a white light.  And when they came to, they were back in the hotel room.  Sam and Dean gasped as they shot forth from the beds, “You alright?”

“Define alright!” Dean frowned as he reached for his phone.  He dialed a number and not much later Cas had appeared.  He hadn’t dared to look at the brothers as they packed up.

“Maybe...Maybe Joshua was lying.”

That’s when the two stopped, remembering one of the things that he’d said.  Sam took a few steps forward, “I don’t think that he was, Cas.  He told us...things...things about Caitlyn.  Why were you so intent that we get to Joshua and ask about her?”

Castiel took a few steps away from the wall he was leaning on and sighed, “I-Caitlyn and I...we...”

“Say it, Cas!” Dean growled. 

“I fathered a Nephilim with your sister,” he admitted slowly, “I-during the showdown we’d had...we fought.  I called the baby inside of her an abomination...and the baby. It-it took her away from me...I haven’t been able to find her since.  I was holding out hope that they...they could tell me.  Faith...but...i need to find her, Sam...Dean...she-she’s an alternate vessel for Lucifer.  If you don’t say yes, he’s already made his intentions clear.  He’s going to use her.  And she-I fear that she might have already agreed!”

“Cas, we can-”

But the angel was gone, wooshing out of the room without any hope left.

Chapter 16

[hologramcowboy]

I kind of needed to vent a little and I hope it's okay that I do it here. And I'm sorry, it got a little long.

This Jibcon was such chaos, but I'm left feeling a bit, I don't know, confused and slightly sad? (And just for clarification purposes I am not an AA nor am I looking to make excuses or defend anyone.)

This was so different compared to the other Jibcons of the past imho. It was an absolute shit show it felt like. I enjoyed some of the things Jensen talked about in his panels but at the same time, there were a few things that just made me go 'what...?'

First, while I get a lot were upset about his and Misha's comments about Jared, I kind of felt like yes, maybe Jensen might have been just the slightest irritated that maybe Jared wasn't there but he's not mad at him if that makes sense. The whole vibe I got this con from watching all of Jensen's interactions with the fans is that he just didn't really want to be there. I know he said he was happy to be there and maybe his interactions with fans at autographs were better but his comments (and Misha's) felt more like digs at the fandom rather than at Jared. I know that sounds weird, because the comments were about Jared, but it's the context I think that makes me think that.

He and Misha together can be funny at times but it's when they become smug assholes (like in that closing panel) that it really just turns me off completely, and I am reminded that I am looking at two middle-aged men acting like assholes, trying to "entertain" and keep a bit going, while with Jared it just feels natural for him to slip into it. That whole "that's what she said" bit just went on WAY too long. Listen, I like a good innuendo/joke myself, but when it's happening for more than 5 minutes straight, what are we in middle school? Had I spent the $ and waited in line to ask a question, I would have been beyond disappointed and then irritated. It felt as if once they got out on stage, they purposely wasted time so as to not have to answer too many questions. And when you watch the solo Jensen panels, yes he may have gotten long-winded on some answers like he said himself but ultimately, he kept the ball rolling, because he knew time was limited. Misha knows this, too (but he doesn't surprise me anymore with his bs). So, it kind of felt like they just said screw it and kept doing what they wanted to do. Even to the point where they grabbed one of the fans' camera-thing and had it up on stage for almost 5 minutes, talking about that. Again, it felt like they were purposely wasting time.

And then when Jensen was answering the last fan's question, the music came on and the others came out, interrupting his answer, which he didn't seem too thrilled with. But it happens and it seemed like he would roll with it, but then he keeps talking, and no one can hear a word due to the music and the singing of the others. I get maybe he was doing a bit here (because he eventually started repeating the lyrics of the song as if they were things he was saying) but the whole thing was super awkward and cringe, especially when he said the line "but I've talked to a therapist about it" and "but I'm in therapy". Not because of what he said, but in the context he said it. Like I don't get the joke. And again, how could anyone hear him to get the full punch of the joke?

Secondly, the time he mentions his family, when talking about Dean as a "general". While I understood his point and that he was using it as an example, he came off as slightly defensive when saying this. And I don't understand why? It felt like he took the opportunity to assert this point (that really had nothing to do with what he was trying to explain for Dean other than someone's "normal") to someone other than the asker. I don't know if someone has said something to him lately about him not being home so much, but the way he said it makes me think maybe someone did (a fan or someone in his personal or professional life) and he didn't like it. Just an odd time to make that assertion, especially when that wasn't the question. I know that we all know that Danneel checks SM and reads anti posts/blogs but did she tell him something she had seen or did he see something himself? Or did a fan ask him how Danneel or his kids felt about it? It was just so weird. Especially since he said it slightly defensively. Like dude, if that's what your normal is, then fine. You could have just said that; no need to get defensive about it. And if it's something you feel is right, then why get defensive at all? Just freaking weird, the timing, the tone, all of it.

Third, his comments about Jared. To me, the one that I think definitely shows his passive aggressiveness is the EP comment. Out of all the comments he made, this one is the most telling. But again, I know this sounds weird, but I don't think he was mad at Jared? I think he was pissed that he was at the con and Jared wasn't. Whether that's because he didn't want to be there or was pissed that he had to make the trip or it's overall jealousy due to the EP status like some have speculated, or it's him looking at the small group of actors at this con and him thinking 'I'm a headliner and here I am at this con that not every panel is sold out and there are only three other actors here than myself that were in more than 1 season, wtf am I here for?' Or even if it has to do with people's reactions to the whole Jared/Daniela thing. Which I got a very passive aggressive vibe from Misha (again, not surprised) towards the fans/fandom by "he didn't have any other obligations whatsoever which is weird. but don't worry about that, I'm sure it's been no inconvenience to you" (and the EP comment happens right before this). That to me felt passive aggressive (again, it's Misha) not just towards fans but also Jared. The pool comment seemed like a joke (a bad one), until it turned into that. And sure enough, Jensen goes with it. Maybe he's tone deaf to this stuff like some others have been saying but like they also have said, shouldn't he realize by now how things go? Not saying he should censor himself or worry about that all the time, but considering he knew how upset Jared was at not being able to be there in person, it reads in poor taste. And then Misha's "Let's try to destroy him" is yet another bad joke. And then Jensen's "I think we just did", while not said angrily and more of in a joking tone, comes off as a very stupid joke and completely insensitive (which is interesting because he literally just said earlier how he's more sensitive than Dean). Which is why I think he immediately (after laughing at Misha's bs) clarifies that Jared is bummed he couldn't be there. And Misha says again "unencumbered" and before that, was laughing when Jensen mentions the pictures he sent. Misha can be a jerk, we all know that. But wow does Jensen's persona (I don't like to use the word personality because what we're getting is essentially a public persona in these panels and not the real him) change around this guy. And not for the better.

Fourth, Jensen's overall vibe came across as cocky and again, just a little of a desire not to be there. Maybe it was due to the being tired thing, the travel, or the busy schedule...but he was off. Not to say that he didn't have moments where he could be funny, appeared to be his usual humble self (not in the panels but in bts videos), and had some good answers. Maybe enjoyed a question or two. But mostly he just vibed like an asshole. Don't get me wrong, I love Jensen and I'm a fan, have been before SPN, but the persona he presented at the last Jibcon was very different to this one. I know some people blame alcohol (and maybe it was involved, idk) but to me he seemed alert and sober (for the most part) and just acting like a smug dick.

I almost wonder if this is who he is trying to present now, as a "brand" that he is trying to establish compared to his SPN-era one. But I kind of have to wonder, is this who he presents himself to be on sets, too? In interviews and/or talk shows when doing promo? In meetings? Or is this purely now a SPN-related/SPN-fan thing?

And last but not least, his whole mention of Danneel (or lack thereof) was cringe. Not the mention of her telling him to meet them somewhere else or how she feels about their "normal". But in two ways. One, he consistently mentions his kids and his family and barely mentions her specifically, even when the topic/answer includes her. And two, the comment he said to Ruth in the closing ceremony thing. "And even my wife would agree with that." Which it seemed like a really odd comment to make? Not that it was an odd compliment to give Ruth, as the sweetest person alive or whatever he said. But why did he bring Danneel into it? That to me, not knowing the ins and outs of their relationship obviously, indicates possibly one of two things: either Danneel doesn't like it when other women come into the conversation but Ruth is so sweet that in this one instance she would have to agree or he's getting a little flirty but keeping boundaries. I say a little flirty because other than the first possibility, there's no other reason for Danneel or her agreement to be mentioned in this instance. Not at all. If it's the second possibility, then it's almost as if he was reminding himself (and the audience) that he's married. I'm not trying to suggest that he's into Ruth or attracted to her in any way (I think she's Rob's girlfriend, right?) but the whole comment about Danneel just felt off. Once again, dude, if you're not happy in your marriage, then stop talking about it. Or if you are and don't want anyone to think otherwise, then change up the overall tone of the mentions (sound happy to be with her for once or give her more compliments or something) or stop talking about it. And then he and Danneel (most likely) wonder and their stans wonder why people keep saying they think divorce might be on the horizon or something isn't right with their relationship. Like, you keep fueling the fire yourselves, so change it up if you want to be seen as this couple still madly in love after three kids and all of these years.

I don't know, I'm not saying any of these observations are right, and they're just my opinions/interpretations, but I just had a lot of thoughts (and feelings) after watching all of Jensen's panels last night, even the ones with Misha. This person in these panels and at this con felt like a stranger (which I know is an odd statement to make since none of us really know him or have a relationship with him to even begin to delve into the word familiar). I can now see what people mean when they say that Jensen becomes someone else when Jared is not around, and how he and Jared seem to bounce off one another beautifully in their panels. It's natural and easy for them. But this con, this was a real eye-opener.

I still love Jensen, I'm still a fan of his work, but this made it virtually impossible for me to ignore the red flags that were going up, especially that advice he gave that 15-year old. Like I understood the point he was making, and the context, but damn...talk about bleak, dude. He should have clarified a bit if it was only about acting/the profession, though the 15-year old did clarify that he was looking for life advice. Which tbf to Jensen (and all the rest of the cast), why are people asking them things like this? They're not therapists or life coaches. These are actors. I'm not trying to police anyone or what questions they should ask. I'm just saying, I don't get that whole aspect of cons, that's all. But regardless, that answer...yeah, like I said, this whole con, Jensen felt very off. And I don't think it was just because he was tired or overworked like so many have suggested.

Thank you for letting me get this out. I just felt like you were the best person to speak these feelings/thoughts to because you still love Jensen though you can be critical of him and his choices, like every other fan of his should be able to do. (AA's are a cult)

That's one healthy rant, it's important to get things out rather than keep them inside where they can wreak havoc and create stress. Glad you found a way to express them and let them go, I enjoyed reading this and resonate with what you wrote. I too got the feeling Jensen didn't want to be there and that he was responding to rumors and being defensive rather than living his life. Not even going to get started on the heartbreaking advice given to the 15 year-old. As for mirroring Misha, I deeply wish he would stop doing that. Jensen always includes Danneel in the weirdest ways as if to compensate for not giving her any attention. I think he knows he doesn't love her and realizes people might perceive that so he tries to cover it all up by making weird comments like the one for Ruth you mentioned. It ends up being so off that it makes people even more suspicious. "he and Jared seem to bounce off one another beautifully in their panels." . 💕💕💕

I'm going to stop here otherwise I will write a super-long post in response to your beautiful ask. 💕 Thank you for taking the time to write this, it makes me happy that people feel free to truly express themselves on this blog.

[red-meat-my-beloved]

me and 3 other people will read it as weirdcest, the rest probably as wincest

689 words

Dean knows Sam’s watching him before he even opens his eyes. After a bleary glance at the clock revealing it’s almost nine, he decides to untangle himself from the comfortable cocoon he’d built around himself during the unexpectedly cold night.

Sure enough, he catches Sam’s fox-like eyes across the room, zeroed in on him over the rim of a complimentary but tasteless cup of motel coffee.

Without breaking eyecontact, he sets the cup down on the table next to him with a dull thud as his lips curl up.

“What.” Dean grunts, his voice still thick with sleep.

Sam stays silent for a moment, then replies,

“Nothing.”

His smile grows and so does Dean’s frustration.

“You sure look damn smug for ‘nothing’ on a Monday morning.” He gets up, making a show of pushing past Sam on his way to the bathroom.

When he emerges, Sam’s still being annoying, watching Dean as he traverses the room. He tries to ignore the way he’s being watched, Sam’s eyes now barely slits as his face scrunches up in glee. Pulling out a shirt from somewhere, Dean pulls it over his head, hiding his reddening ears momentarily.

Finally Sam lifts a tip of the veil.

“You don’t remember what you said last night do you?”

Dean freezes, because he doesn’t.

“What did I say?” Dean asks as nonchalantly as he can make it sound while stumbling over his words.

Sam gets up, which is unexpected and slightly terrifying since Dean doesn’t know if he should brace for a punch or a hug.

Instead, Sam pushes him back on the bed. He’s on top of Dean before the latter can react, which leaves Dean with no choice but to lie there, while his blush steadily grows.

Sam cradles his head in his hands and bends down, his breath tickling Dean’s ear as he whispers,

“Around 3:30 you said bolt upright,” he interrupts himself by pressing his lips against the corner of Dean’s jaw.

The action is still too new, too unfamiliar and it prickles down Dean’s spine. Out of all Sam’s efforts to reintroduce physical touch into their relationship, he fought the kissing thing the hardest. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, it’s that he knows he shouldn’t.

Brothers don’t kiss.

Sam pulls back with a soft smack, “and when I asked what’s wrong, you said,” and kisses Dean on his curve of his cheek. He travels across Dean’s face as he weaves his story together and with every kiss, Dean relaxes more into it.

“I think it bullshit that sonsofbitches like Picasso, and Monet, and van Gogh and whatshisface get to be in museums.” Sam mumbles, mimicking Dean’s sleep-drunk voice. He pecks Dean’s other cheek. “They should throw them all out.” Another kiss to Dean’s forehead.

“I asked why, and you explained,” A kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “That they don’t deserve to be in museums. Museums are for things you love. They should frame my kisses instead.” He plants a last kiss into Dean’s hairline before leaning back.

Dean huffs unconvincingly while his face burns red. It doesn’t help he avoids looking at Sam while he does.

“So? I was clearly hallucinating. Probably because of that weird strawberry flavored gin you shouldn’t have let me drink.” He braves a glance up, which proves a mistake. Sam looks back, bright and beaming and Dean swallows his words.

“I was so worried you were just indulging me in all of this,” Sam gestures between them, “turns out you enjoy it so much you want to put me in a museum for it.” He laughs breathlessly.

Dean concedes, but only slightly.

“Just your kisses, not your ugly ass.” He grumbles.

Sam rolls his eyes and Dean uses his momentary distraction to snap up and roll, reversing their positions, but Sam’s still smirking. The jig is up now that Asleep Dean has let the cat out the bag.

Dean hesitates for a second, then dips down quickly, pressing a kiss to the top of Sam’s nose. It bends slightly under the pressure.

Maybe not quite as museum worthy, but he’ll get there.

[rustys-lodge]

Sleep paralysis. Pt.1

Request by : @supernerdycookietrashblr : I had a fic idea based off the sleep paralysis demon I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is younger Winchester sister she around (16-17) whatever up to you and has sleep paralysis and is always waking up with different scratches/bruises and while they think it’s her doing this to herself in her sleep, one night it goes too far and she sees her sleep paralysis demon and she almost dies but the next time she falls asleep TFW is ready to take down the demon

Warnings : Death, strangulation, and a shit father please dont read this if you’re sensitive to bad parenting. 

A/n : Im sorry this took soo long i had just finished the exams and i had a lot of things to do. I hope you liiike it, though. 

----

“Morning, sunshine.” A voice echoed into the library. “How’d you sleep ?” 

You scratched your hair, dragging your feet up the two stairs. “Good.” You lied, a lie that Dean saw through very easily. 

He bitterly sipped his beer, causing you to cock an eyebrow. 

“What?” He gently spat out. 

“Dean, it’s 9 in the morning.”

“Yeah, well...You’re not the only one who slept good last night” 

You rolled your eyes , walking over to him. You stood with your back facing him and lifted the back of your shirt up a little. “Check.” 

You shivered under his gentle touch. You’d think you’d get used to it after a week, but each day felt like the very first time. 

“Would you stop squirming ?” Dean grumbled, prompting a huff from you, which caused Dean to violently spin you around. “Stop. Squirming.” He extended a warning finger out as he stared at you. 

“What’d you find, Dean ?” You asked in a mumble, terror apparent in your voice. 

“Nothing you need to worry about, bud.” Your brother’s concern washed off after a few seconds of silence, which meant that he was hiding something. “Move.” He tapped the side of your thigh to motion for you to move and walked away, avoiding eye contact. 

You hurried up to your room, turned so that your back was facing the mirror and pulled your shirt up, drawing a sharp breath in and letting go of the shirt. A fresh scratch ran all the way from your waist to the bottom of your back. How the fuck could you have done that to yourself ? You trailed your finger over it, it was inflamed but not an open wound. Explains why you didn’t feel it. 

---

Later that day, you laid uncomfortable on your bed, two pairs of eyes peering at your from both sides of the bed. You pursed your lips, staring at the ceiling as sleep slowly drifted away from you. 

“I can’t do this.” You shot up, pressing a palm on the bed to keep yourself balanced.

“Why can’t you ? It’s not like you’ve been sleeping for the past week” Dean squited his eyes at you. 

You scuffed. “I don’t know, Dean...Oh yeah, maybe it’s because two grown-ass humans are staring right through my meatsuit and into my fucking soul. Maybe that’s why.” You faked a smile as you narrowed judging eyes at Dean, who slightly gasped in response. 

“First of all, language.” Dean’s warning index was pointed at you. “ And second, you better close those sweet little eyes of yours and sleep or I promise you I'll knock you to sleep myself.” 

You breathed out a small huff, rubbing your eyes together. “I can’t do it. Can one of you at least lay down with me until I fall asleep ?” 

“I’ll do it.” Dean didn’t hesitate. He plopped on your bed, bringing his arm under your head. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be here with you.” 

You watched Dean as he smiled at you, his eyes silently reassuring you. Yours fluttered. And before you knew it, you drifted to sleep. 

--

“Baby...Come here” A voice, that you recognized immediately, echoed around you. You spun around, smiling as hope flitted inside of you. “Dad ?” You kept spinning around, the space around you suddenly turning white. “Dad, where are you ?” 

“Come...Kiddo, You’re going in the right direction. Just close your eyes and keep going.” John’s voice called again. You did as you were told and started sprinting forward, coming to a forced stop. 

You opened your eyes, to find yourself face to face with your dad. “Daddy, hey.” You whispered as you ran your shaky fingers across his face. 

“Did I ever tell you how much…”

“How much, what, dad ?” 

Your dad placed his hands on your shoulders. “How much I hated you.” In a fraction of a second, they caught your neck,gripping it tightly. 

You tried grasping at his shirt as you gasped in agony. But you couldn’t hold onto anything.  Your body went limp as tears welled up in your eyes. but before they fully closed into darkness, a sudden pressure struck against your belly like lightning. And you shot up, a woeful scream flaring fire through your throat. 

“Hey, hey, hey” 

You clutched your stomach as you took a deep, painful breath in, turning towards the voice. 

Sam was staring at you with watery eyes, cupping your cheeks as he reassuringly nodded at you. “It’s just me...It’s me.” 

“My belly...Wh-what hap-happened- what-” You exhaled a chuckle through the sniffs when you realized. “Did you actually punch me in the belly, Sam ?” You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The pain was definitely rooting for the latter, but all you could think about is the amount of stress they were put in, to save your from d-

“Death..I almost died..” Realization hit you, causing a lump to quickly grow in your throat. “I almost died, Sammy.” You choked on a sob that quickly turned into uncontrollable crying.

Sam sat on the bed, bringing your head to his chest. He carressed your hair, pulling it away from your tears as he shushed you.

“You’re okay, now, honey. You’re okay”

--- 

Yall are welcome to leave a comment iif you liked it. ❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹

[shirophantomvox]

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

[narukoibito]

“Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Am I Your Lockscreen?

Summary: Harry misplaces his phone.

AO3 | FF.net

Note: This took absolutely forever (months!), but here it finally is. Thanks for the ridiculous prompt Anon. This is complete, unadulterated fluff. It’s ridiculous, and I just can't. Haha, I hope you enjoy!

*

Harry was in the middle of stifling a yawn when he heard the rumbling downstairs.

Must be Fred and George, he thought, stretching his arms over his head. He let them fall back on the cot, with a content, food coma induced sigh. He was thinking about taking a little kip when Ron stirred on the bed beside him.

“Sounds like Ginny’s home early,” Ron grumbled.

“Ginny’s home?” Harry perked up, only to cough self-consciously at the strange look Ron gave him. Right, best mate’s little sister, he reminded himself. Except she was so much more than that. As if on cue, he heard the tinkling of her laughter below.

“Oh, I guess that’s nice,” Harry said casually, leaning back into the cot and pretending to go back to napping.

After a moment, Harry sneaked a peek. Ron had returned to fiddling with his phone. Texting Hermione probably.

Good save, Potter.

Unable to stop himself, Harry reached into his pocket to protectively touch his phone. Only to come back empty-handed.

His eyes popped open.

He straightened and immediately began to pat the blankets around him, his hands searching with a growing franticness.

“Mate?” Ron asked.

“Have you seen my phone?” Harry looked under his pillow and the sheets, on the verge of panic. He always, always kept his phone with him, especially —

“Er, no?” Ron sat up, confused. “Let me call you.”

Harry waited with bated breath as Ron dialed his number. He glared at the rumpled sheets pooled around him, willing them to start ringing.

Finally, there came his tell-tale ring! Only it was…

Shite. Shite, shite, shite!

It had been a moment of weakness. At her last football game, he had snapped a photo right when she’d made the winning shot. Then, like the idiot he was, couldn’t resist saving it as his lockscreen.

“Harry?” He heard Ron’s cry of surprise behind him as he moved, wrenching open the door. He bolted down the stairs, taking two, then three steps at a time, racing toward the ringing.

Just as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, Harry saw Ginny. Even in the midst of his panic, he couldn’t stop the way his stomach swooped at the sight of her standing there in her football training kit, with her long hair tumbling over her shoulders, her freckled skin that glowed, her pale fingers that he longed to hold.

And then, as if in slow motion, he watched as those very fingers reached toward the dining room table.

Fuck.

“Whose phone—?”

“Argh!” Without thinking, Harry launched himself into the air. 

His fingers triumphantly curled over the phone.

Sweet relief coursed through him as an invisible audience cheered him in his head. Safe! He was safe!

Only of course his foot caught on something, and Harry went tumbling headfirst onto the floor. All those years of football training meant he automatically rolled, protecting his head, even as he crashed against the cupboards.

“Harry! Are you okay?”

He blinked away the spots in his eyes to see Ginny looking down at him, her brown eyes bright with concern. She leaned in, her face tantalizingly close.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he croaked, his face flooding with color and not only because he was upside down.

And he was fine, despite the spinning room, because Ginny was here, smiling down at him. The fluttering in his chest mixed with the squeeze of relief that she wasn’t looking down at him in disgust or, worse, pity at having uncovered his secret.

“I see you haven’t lost your flair for dramatics,” she said wryly.

“Constant vigilance,” Harry said, pleased when she laughed at the reference to that ridiculous counselor from that summer camp their parents had enrolled them in as teens. Counselor Moody used to do all sorts of mad things to scare them, like popping out of the bushes. Harry and Ginny used to catch each other’s eyes and laugh about it back when she was nothing more than his best mate’s little sister.

Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but wander from her face, only to flush and snap his eyes upward. She certainly wasn’t so little anymore.

“Let’s get you right-side up, and then maybe you can explain why you were pulling a Moody.”

His stomach curled into knots at her proximity as she helped him. He tried to think of something charming to say, which was hard when she was dusting him off and unintentionally sending goosebumps up his arm.

“I was testing your reflexes,” Harry blurted. “I’m still faster than you.”

“Oh, like that really counts when you suddenly shout and fling yourself at me.”

Why was it that the challenging look on Ginny’s face only made his heart skip a beat?

“Element of surprise.” He reached up to adjust his crooked glasses, something tickling in the back of his mind like he was forgetting something. Focusing was difficult with the intoxicating scent of flowers short-circuiting his brain.

“Well, for all your bluster…” With a mischievous glint in her eye, Ginny triumphantly raised his phone screen to his line of sight. “You still lose.”

Harry’s heart dropped to the floor. His eyes darted from the phone to her face and back again. He made a wild swipe for it, but Ginny was prepared.

“Whose call were you so eager to answer, hmm?” she taunted as she ducked into the family room.

“No, Ginny!” He followed her frantically, nearly knocking over a vase. “Come on, don’t—!”

“Not Cho, I hope?” She ran around the couch, strategically placing it between them. Her hand waved the phone tauntingly at him.

“No,” Harry said, slowly drawing nearer, adrenaline drumming in his ears. He frantically looked for an opening. “Cho and I aren’t a thing anymore.”

“Then it’s no problem if I check, is it?” Ginny turned the phone toward her, eyes slowing lowering — with his heart lodged in his throat, Harry lunged.

The two of them tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Harry groaned at the sting from where his head had connected with the floor. Somehow, in the chaos, he had managed to be on the bottom, which was good because Ginny hadn’t felt the brunt of the fall. But as the pain began to recede, he was suddenly very much aware of the soft curves pressing into him, her legs tangled up with his. She moved, wiggling enough to make him yelp.

Oh God, was this it? The only time he would ever get this close?

How pathetic could he get?

“Harry?”

He winced and waited for her to punch him and call him a pervert or something. When it didn’t come, he dared to open a tentative eye. Ginny had lifted herself up, hovering above him, her fiery red hair a curtain around them. Unable to stop himself, he stared up at her, bewitched by her freckles up close, the growing flush on her cheeks that reminded him of a sunset.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Am I your lockscreen?”

Harry swallowed hard, his chest twisting painfully. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Her lips quirked upward. “Planned on keeping it a secret for life?”

“Worth a shot,” he said dryly, even though his pulse was racing. She was smiling — could that possibly mean…?

“Yes, well. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, what are you going to do about it?” Her eyes flashed.

His traitorous hand reached up, lightly brushing her hair back. As his fingers skimmed her cheeks, she released an unsteady breath that whispered against his face. Ginny, his best mate’s little sister, his brilliant friend who could kick his arse, who made him laugh until his cheeks hurt.

“Ginny,” he said, barely able to think over the hammering in his heart, trying to form the words he had been reciting endlessly ever since she and Dean split up. “Will you be my lockscreen?”

Wait. Did he just…?

Mortification surged inside him. Where was a hole to bury himself in when he needed it? He would never be able to show his face around the Weasleys again — how was he going to explain that to Ron? He’d go abroad, Scotland maybe, explore castles or woods, anywhere really, just somewhere far, far away.

A peal of laughter tore him from his runaway thoughts. Ginny gave him such a bright smile, it was hard to look at her straight on. She was leaning closer, her eyes blazing. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Fair is fair,” he said, holding her gaze for what seemed like an impossible time, the tension between them making his chest want to burst, and then suddenly they were kissing.

He had imagined this moment many times in the past few months since his feelings had all but clobbered him over the head when he and Ron bumped into Ginny and Dean snogging under the bleachers. He’d replaced Dean with himself, imagined his hands around her waist, his lips fused with hers.

But this — this was so much better than anything he could have imagined. All conscious thoughts were obliterated by a warm sunshine that effused his every nerve.

“Harry,” Ginny breathed heavily when they finally broke apart. The smile she was giving him made him smile what was surely the soppiest smile in existence. “That was…”

“Lockscreen worthy?” he asked like an idiot.

She chuckled, her body shifting against him, turning that sunshine inside him to molten heat. “Might need to double check.”

“Happy to oblige,” he said, as she leaned down and kissed him again. He ached to be closer, his hand tangling into her soft hair, and she pressed closer as if also driven by the same reckless desire. He was so lost in her, he only barely registered the distant noise that was getting closer.

“Where’d you go, Har— oh my God!” Ron’s cry pierced through Harry’s hazy brain. “Get off my sister!”

Fear spiked through Harry. He looked up at his best mate (who was hopefully still his best mate), who looked as if he had been clubbed on the head.

“He can’t get off me, I’m on him!” Ginny replied unhelpfully.

“Oh then… Get off my best mate!”

Ron grabbed her ankles and started pulling her off of Harry, but Ginny, in a fit of rebelliousness, clung onto Harry harder.

Over their bickering about “bro code” and “we don’t need your permission” and “took you both long enough, but no snogging in the family room,” Harry let his head fall back with a thunk against the floor.

Nevermind – Scotland it was.

[mittensmorgul]

So for the most part, I outright reject the finale. But I do think, in light of the whole "Jimmy was supposed to be in the bar, and Dean was disappointed by that because his perfect heaven would have Cas in it" just makes me all the more convinced that the final episode was some kind of djinn dream. Like.... There's no other explanation in my opinion. If Dean's perfect heaven was supposed to have Cas, and he tragically gets faked out by Jimmy (????? Why tf would jimmy be there anyway), it just proves that it's not ACTUALLY heaven. That, along with he El Sol beer he's drinking is all the evidence I need. I think after 15x19, Dean and Sam got whammied by some monster, and are stuck in a hallucination, and that's what we're seeing. (My headcanon is that it's actually The Empty doing it, because it knows if it doesn't keep Dean and Sam occupied and spinning in circles, they'll invade the Empty to save Cas. So its trying to prevent that) :)

Hello, anon friendo! I am gonna start by offering the socially distanced version of a high five, because yeah... There is just so much to unpack here, and you provided such a succinct and all-encompassing series of statements to start from. Thank you!

*flings open array of questionable suitcases*

First off, Congrats on having rejected the finale. I know a lot of folks are still struggling with that one, for many reasons. But you have hit upon so many of the points I’ve been trying to make about the finale since it aired. I’d just like to start with some of the assumptions I’ve heard from folks about the finale that make it impossible for me to consider it fully honestly canon. Because so much about it just makes no goshdang sense... like... not at all...

One of the biggest issues I have surrounding the reception of the finale in parts of fandom is that it portrayed a “happy ending.” The show itself spent the entire final season telling us that a gravestone marked Winchester was not and never would be a happy ending (thank you Becky Rosen-- words I never thought I’d say, but honestly and most sincerely meant). Let’s break this down a bit.

Starting from the assumption that “heaven was fixed” so that characters could have true free will there, making it satisfying in any way that Dean died so young and never got to truly experience happiness during life, I would like anyone who has adopted this attitude to then explain Kansas the band. I mean... explain that in any satisfactory canon-compliant way. (hint: you can’t. it makes zero sense in canon, if heaven is truly reformed and “happy” with everyone in possession of free will.)

Which brings me to Misha’s comments about Jimmy being in the Roadhouse. Why, if heaven were truly fixed, would Jimmy ever in a bazillion years attend a party for Dean Winchester? If Heaven were truly a “happy” ending for Dean, why introduce this element of eternal tragedy and heartbreak to his heaven experience? Why taunt him with the eternal loss of Cas-- even if you don’t think he reciprocated Cas’s romantic feelings, he was canonically the best friend Dean ever had, and being forced to exist forever in a place where he had everyone else he ever cared for except for Cas? Is frankly horrific.

How the actual fuck is that a happy ending, in any sense of the word?

How is this the sort of heaven that Dean would’ve made for himself before it was “fixed?” At least in the memorex heaven, he could’ve lived in oblivious peace with Cas, even if it was always just his own memories and not ~actually Cas~. I honestly think that would’ve been happier than the abject tragedy of what we did get, and what we would’ve gotten had the original script played out.

All of this kind of makes me wonder if they ever even actually defeated Chuck. Like... it feels more like Dean got pulled into the Empty at that moment with Cas and Billie, and everything else after that point was the Empty’s endless experience of sorrow and despair we knew it subject its charges to. So that’s one potential for what could’ve actually happened. I mean, everything about the finale was sorrow and despair, you know? Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his pie at a pie festival because Sam smashed in in his face. How is any of it happy, in any way?

Because if that was actually heaven, there wasn’t actually any free will (because why tf would Kansas the band have chosen to put on that concert? why tf would Jimmy have been there, just to torment Dean with the taunt of Cas returning to him only to have that hope snatched away again? It’s cruel. It’s, in fact, a source of intense despair).

The djinn theory could also work, and I’ve read some excellent fix-it fic using that as a premise. But that doesn’t really explain what happened to Jack (and Amara, since she was in there with them) after hoovering up Chuck’s power, you know? I think the simplest explanations in canon are that Chuck actually won via the unified power of Light and Dark being transferred into Jack and effectively using him as a vessel. With Sam and Dean convinced they’d won, they effectively stopped resisting Chuck’s story for them, and using Jack’s understanding of humanity and the Winchesters specifically, Chuck finally was able to implement a version of his story that the Winchesters would just waltz into without thinking it was supernaturally influenced at all. Going bigger and bigger with monsters and cosmic troubles hadn’t worked, but going so small Sam and Dean would barely even notice the influence-- even with the incongruous reappearance of a vampire that appeared in their lives once, for like two whole minutes 15 years ago, and an unsolved case from the journal from more than 30 years ago that John had never even linked to vampires at all.

At this point, I need to mention that I’m watching 10.23 as I type this up. An episode in which we confront the Mark, along with Death, and Dean’s despair, where he learns a version of the truth (but by no means the full truth, or even accurate truth in some respects) about Chuck’s Story, Amara/The Darkness, etc. That would unfold more fully over the next five seasons. And what was the case Dean took in this episode? Vampires. LOLOL omg this show is nothing if not horrifically consistent, yes?

So because of this, I went haring off through my own blog looking for a post I made a long time ago about the symbolism of how various monsters are used on this show (because again, consistency). I got sidetracked by other posts in my monsters tag, including this from after 15.09 aired, which feels particularly awfully relevant. This was my reaction to Chuck’s Story he showed Sam in that episode, about what the future would look like should he successfully trap Chuck with a Mark, and which... yeah is basically exactly thematically consistent with what we saw in the finale, right down to a cheesy twist on vampires. Read the whole post right here, but this is the part that reached up and punched me in the face:

this is how Dean personally reacts when he loses Cas. We know how he reacts when he loses anyone else– think about what he did when Charlie died. He went on a murder rampage against the Stynes for killing her. When Mary died he broke some furniture and went full bore toward both resurrecting her and stopping Jack. But without Cas, Dean loses the will to fight. Sam has… always been different. He referenced Jess in 15.04 to remind us of how he was after she died in the pilot episode. Just like John, he picked up the revenge mission and ran with it. But for Dean, Cas is different. Without Cas… Dean gives up.

Because... Dean gave up. Sure, he and Sam weren’t overrun by vampires in the end. Chuck knew they’d never stop fighting the monsters, one way or another. The only way to get Dean to give up is something Chuck hadn’t quite figured out yet... maybe not until after 15.17, after confronting Cas in the hallway of the bunker, after absorbing Amara’s power, knowledge, and perspective on Dean.

Chuck needed Dean to give up, and honestly? Pushing Billie to clear him off the table and send him (and Cas, that pesky angel who never did what he was told) to the Empty would’ve been a direct way to deal with that... pretty much akin to having one sibling locked in a cage forever, yes?

Also, still looking through my monsters tag, I’m reminded of 14.15, and still cannot differentiate the version of Heaven in 15.20 from what was done to the people of that town. This... is not... paradise. This is actively what Dean has been insisting is the OPPOSITE of paradise since like… 4.22… No ending where Dean was a “Stepford bitch in paradise” ever had the possibility of being “happy,” at the core of things, and this “fixed” version of Heaven just doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. Something is seriously wrong here. https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183465650390/so-can-we-talk-about-this-monster-of-the-week-for

And since I was unable to find the post I wrote who knows how long ago about Monsters and how they’re symbolically used on Supernatural to represent larger themes in the episode, I’ll just attempt to sum up what Vampires have been used for. Revenge. Vampires are always, in some way connected to themes of revenge.

(and hooray, I found at least a post adjacent to the one I’ve spent the last four hours trying to find... https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/187207052080/i-obviously-did-not-think-this-through, where I mention that shapeshifters are about revealing hidden truths (mostly about Dean since most shapeshifters are connected to Dean), zombies are about grief and the inability to move past it.)

So why... why at the end of their road is the monster that comes after them-- literally FOR REVENGE for something that had never been blamed on Sam or Dean to begin with, from season 1, directly connected to John’s revenge mission and the first time they learned about the Colt AND the first time they learned in canon that Vampires were even real... like... this feels very specifically like some kind of layers-of-meta levels of shade on them, you know? Vampires are for revenge, so what vengeance exactly is being visited upon Sam and Dean in this episode? If not Chuck’s entire story for them itself?

So yeah, 100% agree, something is incredibly rotten in the finale. And I am sick to effing death of people trying to convince us that anything about this was “good” or “happy” or “satisfying” in any way. Or even “how it was always supposed to end” with Dean dead bloody, as if the entire back half of the series hadn’t been suggesting that a true win was the subversion of all of Chuck’s story for them, and Dean finally being able to have his chosen family all alive, happy, and chilling on a beach somewhere watching the sunset. Nothing will ever convince me that the ending portrayed in 15.20 wasn’t exactly how Chuck thought he “won,” rendering it entirely irrelevant to the rest of canon, unless all of canon was ultimately the tragedy we’d been encouraged to believe would be firmly defeated in the end.

Folks, you can’t have it both ways. 

[dcforts]

[day 13: poinsettia]

It started as soon as Cas joined them at the diner and slipped into the booth next to Dean liked he usually did.

“Thanks for coming, Cas. We really need your help with this one,” Sam said.

“I’m here. Tell me everything.”

Sam was shuffling through his papers, about to bring him up to speed on the case, when he heard Dean snap, “Can’t you sit on the other side?”, with such vitriol that Sam looked up at him, shocked. His brother’s face was twisted with hostility, “It’s a little tight in here.”

Cas rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner but got up anyway to move next to Sam.

“So,” Sam started, frowning at his brother, back to sipping his coffee like nothing happened. He turned his focus on Cas, “just in this past week, twelve couples from this town filed for divorce.”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah, I’m still not sure this is a case. It’s Christmas, everyone fights during the holidays.”

“Yeah, but the point is – once they started, they simply couldn’t stop. The neighbours say -”

“So we’re playing marriage counselors now, what a way to hit the botto-“

“Could you be quiet?” interrupted Cas sharp, throwing Dean a glare. “I’m trying to listen to Sam.”

“What’s there to listen? I told you, there’s nothing for us here.”

“How can you be so sure -”

They were raising their voices and people from nearby tables started to crane their neck towards them.

“Guys,” Sam hissed, “I don’t know what’s happening here but can we -,” he tried to say, but it was like he wasn’t there anymore. Dean and Cas were throwing daggers at each other and as Sam’s gaze moved between the two of them, he started to suspect that something not normal was going on there. So maybe the marriage requirement for the curse wasn’t as literal as they thought.

He started sweating, “Uh, can we go back to the case now?”

“I don’t know,” said Cas, his voice dripping sarcasm, “maybe Dean has something more interesting to do.”

“Look, you’ve been here five minutes and-”

Sam sighed heavily. “Alright. Guys- guys, w-why don’t you take this outside? I’ll pay the check and be right out.”

Scoffing and grumbling, then slipped out of their seats and stormed out of the diner.

Sam sighed and raked his hands through his hair.

He tried to tell himself that it could be a coincidence, but his confidence whitered considerably as he watched through the windows his brother stomping through the parking lot and Cas following him with his arms crossed on his chest.

He took out his phone and called Rowena.

“What is it now, Samuel?” she answered.

“Hey Rowena. I- I need your help.”

*

Not even halfway through the story she interrupted him with a chuckle, “Oh, don’t worry Samuel. I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“You do?”

“But of course. And I know who’s doing it. It’s a witch, goes by the name of Emlen. They like to cause mayhem during the holiday season. Harmless curses, wear off right after Christmas. It happens every few years.”

“How are they doing this?”

She thinks about it for a moment, “At the victims’ houses. Did you happen to notice a poinsettia?”

“Th-the plant?”

“Yes, a poinsettia Sam, the Star of Bethlehem, the Fire Flowers of the Holy Night.”

“Yeah, got it. I don’t think so, I mean, everyone’s got one these days. So, maybe?”

“Well, the last time that’s what was setting off the curse. It’s very clever actually,” she went on, “They have them delivered to their door, and the plants let out these fumes -”

As she talked, and the wheels turned furiously in Sam’s head, his eyes fell on the centerpiece in the middle of the table. In a little jar, among glitter red berries and snow covered pine-cones, set a fresh plant with red and green leaves.

Sam shook his head, defeated. There was no doubt now.

Dean and Cas were in trouble.

He sighed, and snatched the plant to stuff it in his bag. He threw a couple of bills on the table and hurried to the exit still with his phone attached to his ear.

“So I need to look for a florist?”

Rowena sighed, exasperated. “No, Samuel. They are way smarter than that. I bet they enchanted a florist to do the work for them. You’ll need to go and gather all the plants and in the meantime – I imagine I could prepare an antidote of sorts to stop the effects right away. You’ll have to give it to the victims.”

“What about the witch?” he asked as he pushed open the glass doors and stepped out in the cold parking lot.

“I’ll take care of Em. We’re old friends, I’m sure they’ll be reasonable if I asked it as a favor.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief but his worry spiked again as the Impala came into his view. Even from there he could see Dean and Cas talking fast at the same time, clearly arguing.

Rowena said, “Did you say twelve couples, right? It’s twenty four vials.”

“Uh – actually. Can we make it twenty six?”

“Sure, Sam,” she said, sarcastic, “and I bet you want the express shipping as well? You know I only have two hands and can’t possibly…”

“Just – Please,” cut her off Sam, trying to express the frustration he was feeling. And he was feeling a lot of frustration as he was approaching the car and could hear indistinct shouting from the inside, “I’ve got a bit of a situation here. Um, Dean and Cas are kind of at each other’s throat.”

Rowena chuckled, but didn’t sound surprised at all as she said, “Of course they are. Fit the profile, don’t they? Alright Samuel, I’ll be there soon. Just try and hold tight, my poor boy.”

“Yeah, thanks Rowena.”

*

The ride to the motel was frosty at best. Sam stayed absolutely still in the backseat and did not comment on the Dean’s jerky driving or the fact that Cas stared grumply out of the window the whole time.

He had tried a weak, “Are you guys still fighting?” when he’d slipped in and they both had given him a stern “No,” that obviously meant the opposite.

Back at the motel the situation did nothing but worsen. They sat on opposite sides of the room and resolutely did not look at each other.

Well, at least until Sam broke the silence to say, “Rowena is on her way. This will be over in no time,” and his brother commented under his breath, “Yeah, Rowena is always there when you need her. Must be nice.”

And Cas whipped his head around, “If you’re referring to me, I’ll have you know that I came as soon as you called.”

Dean snorted, “You mean, as soon as you decided to pick up your phone.”

Sam let out a whimper.

“As I already told you -” thundered Cas but Dean cut him off, raising his voice, “I don’t wanna hear it, Cas. You say the same thing everytime and they you disappear again for two weeks!”

“Uh, guys? Why don’t we -” Sam tried to interrupt them by blocking their view of each other but they just stood up and walked around him.

“You know what’s funny?” Cas went on, sarcastic, talking over him, “That you’re always saying that I should be around more, but when I am around, you sure go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome.”

“Fine!” exploded Dean, “If that’s how you feel than I’ll just stop asking you…”

“… as if you ever asked. You just assume…”

“… then I won’t have to…”

Sam resisted the urge to press a pillow on his face and just closed himself in the bathroom.

*

When he finally heard knocking, Sam ran to the door and pulled Rowena in uncerimoniously.

“Oof, Sam, this is no way to greet a lady,” she complained but then her attention was caught by Dean and Cas behind his back, shouting in the middle of the room a few feet from each other. Her jaw dropped.

“... wish you’d just stop covering your feeling with humor...” Cas was saying.

“... well, I wish you’d stop snooping in my head every chance you get...”

“... If you think one needs to have celestial powers to see what’s clearly on your face Dean Winchester...”

Rowena met Sam’s desperate gaze and winced.

She patted his arm, reassuring, “I’m here now.”

*

“I’m not drinking that.”

“This is ridiculous. Dean and I are not married.”

“I know – just – please. You’re driving me nuts,” said Sam, pratically shoving the vials in their faces. Rowena had proposed to magically bind them and Sam was starting to consider it.

Thankfully - without even stopping glaring at each other - they took them from his hands and downed them in one go.

There was a moment of stillness and then Sam saw them sprinting towards one another. He gasped and tried to step in, thinking that they were about to throw punches but instead they ended up – smashing their mouths together.

Which was definitely more jarring for Sam. He stood frozen in shock and then made his way to Rowena, who was calmly putting on her coat, her back to the scene.

“Er, Rowena?” he called, alarmed. “Uh, they’re – is this normal?”

She threw a look over her shoulder at Cas wrapping Dean in his arms and Dean yanking Cas’ hair.

“Oh, it’s just a little after effect,” she said lightly. She met Sam’s worried eyes and explained, “The antitode has some ingredients in common with love potions. A little nudge, just enough to reverse hostility. It brings out desire. It’s nothing, Sam,” she shrugged, “and it’ll wear off in a couple of minutes, so I say we get out of here now and go deal with Emlen and the other couples. You know,” she smirked, “in case they decide what’s good for them and decide to stay.” She shouldered her bag, “Chop chop now, Samuel,” she said cheerfully, shoving him slightly. “We got work to do.”

*

Two minutes later, Dean and Cas pulled away from each other in the empty motel room.

They looked wide eyed, their faces red, their lips swollen. Dean’s voice was on the verge of hysteria and disbelief when he said, "We kissed.”

He was still holding the lapels of Cas’ trenchcoat and Cas still had his arms tight around his waist.

Cas blinked at him, “Yes,” he said, “I think we were cursed.”

Dean nodded briefly and tried to think fast. “Sam must be working the case,”. He thought about calling him, making sure he was alright and didn’t need assistance but his eyes couldn’t stop flicking between Cas’ eyes and lips, “Seems like whatever he’s doing is working. Uh - Sorry about -”

“I’m sorry too,” Cas said, still a little out of breath, “Can we keep kissing now?”

Dean exhaled, “Yeah, good idea,” he said, throwing his arms around his neck.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Sam’s Emotional Arc 1/3

I hated the finale immediately, but I’ve spent some time with it and talked to friends who loved it. I can see now what it was about, and I’ve come to appreciate the story they were trying to tell, even if I think it didn’t land right.

I’ve been told that my meta on this has helped other people come to terms with the finale, so I thought I’d compile it in one place from across various discord channels and twitter posts. If you are struggling with the finale, I hope it helps you.

Part of this actually started with a shit post. I was making a joke about Sam being psychic since he was scared of clowns when Dean died by one. I realized that may have been deliberate. I dug into the story more and now I’m convinced it was. Then I came across some excellent meta that fit with the themes I was finding and opened up the series even more for me.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it. First, Sam’s journey. 

Clowns pop up in s15 before the barn scene. In 15.01, which was written by Dabb, Sam is injured by a clown. Castiel is able to save Sam and heal his injury. The clown keeps coming after Sam, with Sam having fight scenes with the clown, while others attack the other ghosts. The clown is kicking the shit out of Sam again, and Castiel saves him once more. Sam is unable to fight off the clown on his own both times.

They run until they are able to escape outside a magical barrier. Sam turns to the clown and says, “shut up”. 

This is literally Sam running from his fears. On top of that, this isn’t just any clown, but the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, from an episode also written by Dabb.

Dean: A serial killer clown. I mean, this is, like, the best/worst thing that’s ever happened to you, you know, ‘cause you love serial killers, but – but you hate clowns.

Sam gets nervous and struggles with the lighter before he’s able to get rid of the clown, for now.

I believe this is a metaphor for hunting in general: it’s both the best of Sam’s life and also the worst. The clowns symbolize his relationship with Dean.

Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie was co-written by Dabb (see the pattern?). Sam’s fear of clowns was known since season 2. In season 7, Dabb explored where this fear came from.

On the surface, Sam’s fear is just because he found them creepy, but the episode explains that they actually come from Sam’s fear of being left behind by Dean.

This episode comes directly after an episode where Sam worried that Dean would get himself killed

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... It almost got you killed. Now, I don't care how you deal. I really, really don't. But just don't – don't get killed. Dean: I'll do what I can. Sam: Well, what's that supposed to mean? Dean: It means I'll do what I can. All right? You can shut up about it.

Sam is dealing with Hallucifer at this moment, but Hallucifer doesn’t really scare him. Losing Dean does.

Sam has a conversation with an employee about greatest fears.

Recognize the actress? She came back for s15 in 15.06. I don’t believe this was a coincidence. 15.06 featured Castiel helping a parent find their lost child in a season that features Castiel worried about losing Jack. Through his experience with her, Castiel confronts his fears and doubts and then returns to join in the fight against God. [I’ll touch on Castiel’s journey more in his chapter]

Sam’s greatest fear is losing Dean. There’s a lot in the series about how Sam felt lonely and abandoned for much of his childhood. A whole episode, Just My Imagination, centers around this. Sam hated when Dean went off on hunts without him.

source In The Chitters, Sam tells Dean how his fear of losing his family paralyzed him as child. It’s a story where an older brother dies and the younger brother never recovers from it until he’s able to lay him to rest (sound familiar???)

Sam: You know, whenever you and Dad used to leave me to go hunting, and I-and I wouldn’t hear from y’all for a while, I, um, I was always sure that some vamp or rugaru, or take your pick, I always figured one of them finally got ya. I tried to think what to do, you know, the next step to take. I was just lost. Dean: We came back, though, every time.

You might naturally think, “Wait a minute! Sam left Dean multiple times!” Honestly, this was something I had a huge issue with when watching through the show the first time. I didn’t understand Sam and hated him leaving Dean in s8. I was completely on Dean’s side at first. But, on multiple rewatches and talking to others, I’ve realized that when Sam left Dean, he was running from his fear. In this TV Guide interview, Jared perfectly sums up why Sam left in season 1; he couldn’t stand to see his family die. Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon along with a comic that explains why Sam left in detail. While the comic isn’t official canon, it shows Dabb’s thought process. In it, Sam sees his family as running towards a horrible end and can’t handle dealing with that.

Dean: So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it? Sam: No. Not normal. Safe.

There are many more points in the series where we learn about Sam’s fear of Dean dying. This would be 3948573945 pages long if I wrote them all out, so I’m going to focus on the key moments that loop back to this ending, but there’s so much more there.

If you are struggling with this and need more, please let me know and I can do a deeper dive into that subject. We first see Sam’s inability to let Dean go in season 1 when Sam refuses to let Dean die in Faith.

Dean: You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you? Sam: I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going.

Sam’s whole arc in s3 is him being unable to handle Dean dying. He wants to save Dean, but Dean won’t let himself be saved. This was what Gabriel was trying to teach him in Mystery Spot.

Trickster: This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.

This is how Ruby gets under Sam’s skin and what gets him to start working with her. Everything Sam did was to save Dean. In s4, Sam’s arc is about him sacrificing himself in order to save Dean. He’s gutted from being unable to save Dean. In 4.12, Sam decides to drink demon blood in order to save Dean

Dean: [says that they will die early] Sam: Maybe we'll be different, Dean. Dean: What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life. Sam: What if we could win?Dean: "Win"?Sam: If there was a way we could just...put an end to all of it.

When Sam breaks out of the panic room, he’s suicidal. He’s determined to save Dean with his life as the cost he’s willing to pay. He didn’t think he would survive killing Lilith. He was committing suicide in that moment. The reason why Sam is so willing to sacrifice himself in s5 is because he has low self esteem. He blames himself for everything that goes wrong. In Sam, Interrupted 5.11, also by Dabb, Sam has a breakdown under the weight of his guilt. He hates himself and he feels his rage is out of control. In season 6, we see soulless Sam and, unlike souled Sam, he has no rage. Yes, he’ll kill when necessary, but he’s not angry. It was Sam’s fear driving his rage. He felt out of control of his life and let it lead him down a dark path. In season 7, he sees Dean heading down a dark path and he feels helpless to stop it. He worries about dragging Dean down and tells Dean to let him go. But, at the same time, he’s developing coping techniques. He’s starting to face his fears. 

And then Dean disappears and Sam completely falls apart. Sam didn’t have a healthy relationship with Amelia. They were two broken people clinging to each other. Sam and Dean struggle to reconnect after their time apart. There’s a lot of text addressing the horror of a partner dying and people trying to escape from it.

Mrs Holmes: He could see the end of my days were at hand, and... He had lived centuries all alone, but I don't think he could bear the thought of life without me. That's why he drove off that bridge. You must think I'm a monster.

In Hunteri Heroica written by GUESS WHO!?!? Sam finally acknowledges that he was living in a dream world with Amelia. He was running from his past. We see a flash back with Sam pressing on his scar, which he did to help himself distinguish fantasy from reality.

The episode is about a man refusing to engage in reality and harming those around him. Sam has a big confrontation with him

Sam: Look, it can be nice living in a dream world. It can be great. I know that. And you can hide, and you can pretend... all the crap out there doesn't exist, but you can't do it forever because... eventually, whatever it is you're running from – it'll find you. [CASTIEL appears to be taking Sam’s words to heart.] It'll come along, and it'll punch you in the gut. And then... then you got to wake up, because if you don't, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you! It'll destroy everything!

Likewise, when Sam was with Jessica, he wasn’t honest about himself. He was hiding from his family and his past. Running to avoid pain. Sam is avoidant in general. Not just in his relationship with Dean. When he talks with Rowena in 13.12 Various & Sundry Villains about his fears of Lucifer, he admits that he could talk about it with Dean, but he can’t bring himself to.

Sam: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind – behind whatever vessel. It… Yeah, still keeps me up at night. Rowena: How do you deal with it? Sam: I guess I don’t deal with it. Not really. I mean, I pushed it down and, um, the world kept almost ending, so I keep pushing it down, and I don’t know. [stammering] I really don’t talk about it, not even with Dean. I mean, I could. You know, he’d listen, but… That’s not something I really know how to share.

In 15.20, Sam’s past is front and center. Literally. I know a lot of people found the Winchester family portrait odd and upsetting, but it symbolizes something I’ll get to in a bit. Instead of trying to avoid his grief, Sam has moments where he lets it wash over him. He goes and sits in the car. He’s no longer avoidant. He’s no longer running away. He’s letting his grief move through him. He’s literally sitting with it.

Soulless Puppy pointed out that the characters emotional arcs is similar to DBT. Please look through their awesome meta here.

Personally, I see them as similar to the therapy I do called ACT. Both are forms of therapy where instead of fighting against them, you accept painful emotions and allow yourself to feel them. If you don’t do that work, then you can’t stop feeling them and your fears/ghosts will always haunt you.  In Swan Song, Chuck tells us that “Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got, wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise.”  In 15.20, Sam initially didn’t want to let Dean go. He’s been refusing to do this since season 1. When he’s separated from Dean he lives a fake life or destroys himself/the world trying to get Dean back. There’s a moment in 15.20 where Sam looks at Dean’s guns. He wants to commit suicide, but he makes the choice to live. For the time in Sam’s life, he let Dean go and lived with his pain. He no longer ran from it. After Swan Song, Dean was unable to let Sam go. He wanted him back. After Carry On, Sam is able to do what Dean couldn’t do. He lives a life outside of Dean. What’s more, Sam has reconciled himself with his past and his family. It’s clumsy and I wish it were better shown, but having the family portrait and their parents in heaven isn’t meant to excuse the way Sam and Dean were raised. In order to move past the trauma of his relationship with his parents, Sam fully integrates them into his life. In Lebanon, Sam was able to confront and forgive his father. In doing so, he can also forgive himself. Mary asks for forgiveness too, and he grants it to her. He doesn’t forget what happened, but he’s able to move forward and leave the intergenerational cycle of violence. He’s able to raise his son, Dean, the way his brother should have been raised.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it.

I can see why people see Sam’s life after Dean as unhappy. I hated it so much because I saw it as horrible and sad the first time through. I had to sit with myself and my emotions first. I think it’s because we’ve been told by society that we have to get rid of our grief in order to be happy. The finale was showing us that it’s possible to do the opposite. [Personally I think it would’ve been better had they showed more overtly happy memories, but many of my friends saw this straight away] When I began therapy, one of the first things I learned was that there aren’t “negative” emotions. When working with our kids, we call them Big emotions. In DBT/ACT, all emotions are treated as normal and natural. Grief, anger, sadness, etc, these are all normal parts of the human existence. We don’t need to run from them in order to have happiness. We can live with them. As interstitial said in our chats, “you can't change the past, you can only change your relationship to it. To accept that your past contained both love and heartache, to miss it, but also know you can do better; that's actual recovery, as good as it gets.” As Soulless-Puppy explained to me, Sam lived in duality. Dean was dead, but Sam lived. Sam was happy, but he grieved. Dean was with him in the watch and the car and his son, but Dean also waited for him in heaven. I hated the finale the first time I saw it, then next watched it with my boyfriend who loved it. As we were watching together and discussing it, I realized that Dean’s death scene wasn’t just about him, but about the show itself. 

Dean promising Sam that he will be with Sam in Sam’s heart is also the show promising us that they will never leave it. That’s why Alex kept posting “The end has no end.” Just as Sam carried Dean with him in his heart, we will carry the show with us. I hope this helps. It’s a terrible thing to feel upset about an ending and thinking of the show this way, recognizing these patterns, is bringing me peace. I still have issues with how it was written, but now that I see what they were doing, I wish all the more that they had the chance to do it right. Please share your thoughts and experiences. I love hearing different opinions. Next up, Dean. Then Castiel.

[bornwantingmore]

Binary Stars

Summary: Castiel possesses Dean. 

(Yeah, I’m writing SPN fan fiction now. Mind ya business.)

Binary star system: Noun. Astronomy. A system of two stars in which one star revolves around the other or both revolve round a common center. Locked in the constant chase of hunter and hunted, the two stars spend their lifespans circling around the other’s orbit, never able to touch, always just out of reach. 

---

It started, much like everything else complicated in the lives of Dean and Castiel, with a hunt gone wrong. 

Read on AO3

The sunlight was filtering through the dingy hotel room’s curtains as Rowena examined Castiel with a series of powders, juices, and soft-spoken Latin chants. Dean watched as he leaned against the wall, subtly texting Sam an update on their hunt. Dean and Castiel had been trying to take out a witch just west of Lincoln when she blew a shimmering powder into Castiel’s face. He had spent the following few minutes coughing up a lung while Dean shot the witch between the eyebrows. Unsure what to do, they called Rowena when they returned to the hotel room. She was leaning over Castiel as he sat on the side of one of the beds. 

“It’s bad.” Rowena finally said, her eyes flicking between Dean and Castiel. “You boys tussled with the wrong witch.”

Dean sighed and kicked off the wall he was leaning on. “Awesome.”

“What did she do to me?” Castiel’s eyes calmly tracked Dean for a moment before they flicked to meet Rowena’s gaze. 

“You mean you can’t tell?” Rowena raised her eyebrows and looked away. “That’s not a good sign.”

“Cut the crap, Rowena,” Dean growled. “Can you fix it?”

Rowena sighed. “Aye, the spell’s not built for fixing.”

“Remind me why you’re here, then?” Dean took a half-step towards Rowena. 

“Dean,” Castiel said, stopping him in his tracks with just a word. He turned back to Rowena. “Explain. Please.”

“Well,” Rowena paused as she thought. She pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. “It was a homemade spell designed to erase an angel’s grace. It starts slow, which must be why you can’t feel it yet. It will continue to get faster and faster as time goes on.”

Dean threw his hands up. “Awesome.”

“You said that already,” Castiel grumbled. 

The two men shared tense eye contact for a few charged moments. 

“You haven’t seen any hex bags today, correct?” Rowena asked, causing them both to look back at her. 

Castiel stood up and moved his eyes around the room before ending on Rowena. “I would be able to sense if there were any present.”

Rowena nodded and hummed her approval. “And the witch who cast the spell is now dead?”

“Yes,” Dean said, stepping forward. “I made sure of that.”

“Lovely,” she said, making it clear that she thought that it was anything but. “She must have been a powerful one then, if the spell is surviving past her.”

Castiel grimaced. “What can we do?”

“Do?” Rowena began to gather her supplies back into her large purse. “There isn’t much that can be done, I’m afraid.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel beat him to the punch. “But there is something.”

Rowena sighed. “You’re not going to like it.”

Dean and Castiel both leveled Rowena with steady stares. She closed her eyes to center herself before speaking again, opening them to look at Castiel. 

“You’re going to need to leave your vessel,” she finally said.

Her statement hung in the air for a few moments before anyone else spoke, heavy in the crisp air-conditioned room. Castiel hardly reacted except to blink, but Dean was visibly agitated. 

“No way.” Dean shook his head. 

Rowena laughed drily. “Have you got a better idea, then?”

“Dean,” Castiel cut in, nipping their cat fight in the bud. “I’ve been without a vessel before.”

“So, what?” Dean turned his attention to Castiel. “You’re just gonna find some other holy trench coat to possess?”

Castiel turned his head slightly to look at Dean directly.

“Not necessarily,” Rowena interrupted. “The spell is only affecting Castiel’s physical form. If he were to” —she struggled to find the word for a moment— “exit, the spell would run its course and eventually fizzle out. I don’t see why he couldn’t return after that.”

“And how long’s that gonna take?” Dean asked. 

Rowena made a noncommittal sound as she examined Castiel lightly with her eyes. “Oh, a few days to be safe. These things move faster when the mind isn’t present.”

“So what, right before he starts to rot away?” 

Castiel lowered his chin slightly and looked at Dean. “My vessel, Dean. It’s not me.”

Rowena held up a finger and rooted through her purse as the men had an impromptu staring contest. After a moment, she pulled out a small hex bag. It fit snugly in the palm of her hand. She loosened the string tying it together slightly to create an opening. 

“This will help keep your vessel in working shape while you’re away,” she said, presenting the hex bag to Castiel. “I just need a drop of dear Mr. Novak’s blood.”

As Dean was rustling through his pockets to pass Castiel his knife, Castiel just bit the tip of his index finger with his front teeth. He held the finger over the bag as the blood welled up and finally dripped down. When the droplet of blood hit the bag, a barely-visible puff of blue smoke was created. Castiel ran his thumb over his index finger, healing the small nip. 

“Perfect,” Rowena said as she retied the string, nonplussed by Castiel’s behavior. She passed the completed hex bag to Castiel. “This will keep the lights on while you’re not home. Keep it in one of your pockets until you return.”

Castiel nodded and put the hex bag in the inside pocket of his trench coat. 

Rowena continued, “I suggest that you leave your vessel before you go to bed. There hasn’t been any damage done that you won’t recover from, but that won’t be the case when you wake up tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Sometime before whatever it is you do at night, then.”

The group eventually made their way through saying farewells and Rowena left, leaving Dean and Castiel alone. Dean was tense. It was hard for him to think of Castiel’s body as just an empty husk to be filled. 

“Dean,” Castiel said, breaking the silence that fell when Rowena left. “This is a manageable problem. There is no need to worry.”

Dean scoffed. “What, me worry?” He sighed and grabbed his keys from where they were sitting on the nightstand. “Let’s get back to the bunker before you do anything crazy.”

Castiel nodded and followed Dean outside of the hotel room. 

The two men continued in silence as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot. Castiel had come to appreciate silence in his time on Earth, but this particular moment rang with unsaid words. He knew that Dean would voice what he needed to say before too long. This time, he only had to wait for three-and-a-half Metallica songs. 

“So.” Dean said, finally breaking the silence. “You’re leaving your vessel.”

“Yes.” Castiel straightened his back and watched the dotted yellow lines disappear beneath them. 

Dean snuck a peek at Castiel. He nervously bit the inside of his cheek. No one spoke for another few moments. 

“Well, are you gonna ask me or not?”

Castiel replied casually, “Ask you what?”

“To be your new vessel.” Dean snuck another peek in Castiel’s direction, taking time to rake his eyes across his face. “If I can handle Michael, then I can handle you. Right?”

“Dean. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

Dean reached over to turn the music down. “Humor me.”

Castiel gave an angel’s impression of an eye roll. “Dean Winchester, are you willing to give your body and mind over to my cause?”

“Yes,” Dean said. His response was immediate. He looked over at Castiel, lips not fully closed. 

“You can’t mean that.” Castiel didn’t seem to be impressed. 

“It’s better than spending a week as a holy cloud of gas and you know it.”

Castiel moved his gaze in Dean’s direction, not quite looking directly at him yet. He couldn’t disagree. “Your history with Michael—” 

“You’re not Michael.” Dean shook his head lightly, turning back to the road. “Come on, Cas. If everyone was the same as their older brothers, Sam would be blacklisted from about twenty more bars than he already is.”

Castiel didn’t seem to be persuaded. He looked anywhere except Dean’s face. 

“Dean. I do not wish to cross any boundaries here.” He finally raised his gaze to meet Dean’s. “You understand that saying yes will give me unfettered access to your body and soul.”

“Look at me. I get it.” Dean quirked his lips humorlessly into a smirk. “I’ve been a hunter my whole life, I know what possession is.” He paused and sighed, tearing his eyes from the road to look at Castiel, speaking clearly. “I trust you. I’m saying yes.”

Castiel still didn’t look convinced. Dean sighed. 

Dean let out a humorless laugh as he rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel nervously. “Listen, man,” he said, his voice an olive branch. “I could learn how to say it in Enochian if English ain’t enough.”

Castiel finally met his gaze again. “I can remain unobstructive while we share a vessel.”

“I’ve already said yes, no need to keep selling,” Dean said, then hesitated. “So long as I get to stay behind the wheel.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel leaned imperceptibly closer to him. “I would never strip you of your autonomy.”

Dean nodded. “Good.” He paused, then echoed, “Good.” He looked back to the road. 

---

The bunker door slammed loud enough to ring through the halls. Dean gave a holler to Sam anyway, in case he didn’t hear him and Castiel come in. 

Sam walked into the room from the direction of his bedroom. “What the hell, Dean?” he said. “You can’t just text me, ‘Cas got witched. Be back before midnight.’ and then not respond.”

“Aren’t you the one who gets on me about texting and driving?” Dean smirked at Sam. “Just being a safe driver. ‘Sides, you could have used Cas’ phone. We got him one for a reason.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shifted his focus to Castiel. “I tried calling Cas, but it went straight to voicemail.”

“My phone stopped working a while ago.” Castiel pulled it out of his pocket. “It no longer turns on.”

Dean grabbed the phone from Castiel and examined it, testing the power button a few times. “When’s the last time you plugged it in?”

“Plugged it into what?”

Dean dropped his hands and looked at Castiel. “The wall, Cas.” He looked over at Sam pleadingly. Sam chuckled. 

“You have to charge it for a few hours every day or two,” Sam said. “I’ll put a charger in your room later.”

Castiel took his phone back from Dean. “I see. I will be more mindful of that in the future.”

Dean walked down the stairs into the main room area, Castiel following closely behind. 

“I’m going to grab a beer, want one?” Dean called over his shoulder as he headed towards the kitchen. 

Sam sat at the table. “Sure.”

“You’re getting one too, Cas,” Dean said, not waiting for a response from him. 

Castiel nodded and sat across from Sam as Dean left the room. 

“I’m beginning to appreciate the taste of beer,” he said to Sam. “The creation process behind it is very compelling.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Sam chuckled airly. “So, what happened with the witch? You look totally normal to me.”

“I’m glad I look normal.” Castiel sighed. “The spell is one that targets my grace, so humans are unable to see what the witch has done.”

Sam frowned. “Are you okay?”

“The damage so far is minimal.” Castiel shrugged. “I hardly noticed until Rowena brought it up. She said that the rate at which the spell devours my grace would increase unless I left my vessel.” 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “And you’re gonna do that? Leave your vessel, I mean.”

“I have no other choice,” Castiel said. “But my vessel will survive without me until the spell runs its course.” Anticipating Sam’s question, he added, “I’ll be able to return to this vessel in a few day’s time.”

“Huh.” Sam leaned back in his chair for a moment. “So will you just” —he waved his hand through the air nervously— “float around all day?”

“No, I—”

Castiel was cut off by Dean re-entering the room, holding three beers. “Brewski time!” he called, waggling the beers with one hand. He put a beer in front of Sam and Castiel, then took one of the open seats at the table and took a swig from his own bottle. 

“Dean, Cas was just telling me about what happened,” Sam said. He looked back over to Castiel. “Sorry, I’d offer to help, but I have a… history with angels using me as a vessel.” He gave an awkward half-smile. 

“I understand,” Castiel said, returning a small smile in Sam’s direction. 

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout a thing, Sammy.” Dean took another sip of his beer. For some reason, he felt nervous to tell Sam. He pushed it down. “Cas is gonna stay with me.”

Sam smirked and looked down at his beer bottle. “And you’re cool with that?”

“What? Lucifer didn’t wear me to the prom.”

“Dude.” Sam looked up to lazily glare at Dean. 

Dean was sufficiently cowed. “What, too soon?”

“Yeah, too soon.” Sam rolled his eyes and laughed under his breath. “Forever would be too soon.”

“I’m going to leave my vessel before morning,” Castiel noted, gracefully changing the subject. “Would you like to be in the room while it happens?”

Dean stiffened imperceptibly. 

“I’m sure you two can handle it,” Sam said, taking a sip from his beer. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

“Well,” Dean said, setting his beer on the table and moving to get out of his chair. “What do you say, Cas? No time like the present?”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together. He looked up at Dean and then back down at his beer. “I’d like to finish this first. It’s pleasant to drink with you two.”

“Come on, Dean.” Sam laughed and lifted his beer in Dean’s direction. “Waste not, want not.”

Dean chuckled to cover his blooming blush. He relaxed back into his chair. “I’m just glad we corrupted an angel.”

---

Dean and Castiel ended up in one of the extra bedrooms, one which Dean liked to call Castiel’s room. Castiel hardly used it. He was sitting on top of the unwrinkled bed covers while Dean was pacing, trying to tamper his anxiety. 

“So, this possession thing.” Dean looked over carefully to Castiel. “Does it hurt?”

Castiel’s eyes tracked Dean’s movements. “What do you mean?”

“The whole...” Dean waved a hand around as he thought of how to word it. “Smoke-in-the-mouth thing. I mean, I smoked my fair share as a teen, but I’m no iron lung.”

The drug reference gave Castiel pause. “The process shouldn’t be painful. It may feel uncomfortable at times as your body attunes to housing a celestial being. You may experience sensations that the human body is not equipped to feel.”

“Lucky me,” Dean said breathlessly.

Castiel nodded. “Lucky you.”

Castiel swung his legs on top of his bed, shoes and all. He leaned against the headboard in a sitting position. Dean bit his tongue when he worried about the dirt tracking onto the sheets. 

“How would you like me?” Castiel asked once he settled. 

Dean tripped on his tongue for a moment. “Like you?”

“My vessel,” Castiel clarified. “How would you like it to be positioned while I’m away?”

A breath escaped Dean’s lungs. Castiel had to know what he was doing when he said things like that. 

“However you want, bud.” Dean flexed his jaw and swallowed. “It’s up to you, I won’t be coming in here until the spell times out.”

Castiel hummed and scooted forward so that he had the space to lie down completely, but he propped himself up on his elbows to keep Dean in his eyesight. He was lying on his back with his trenchcoat puddled around him like an aura. 

“Are you sure you’re willing to do this, Dean?”

Dean walked over to the side of Castiel’s bed. “My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked.”

“I’m serious.” Castiel’s voice compelled Dean to look him in the eyes. “I would not think any less of you for changing your mind in the eleventh hour.”

“You’re my friend, Cas.” Dean’s hand reached out to pat him on the shoulder before he realized that it was too far away to reach. For lack of a better location, he patted Castiel’s thigh where it was resting on the bed. “Friends help each other out.”

Castiel furrowed his brows as he watched Dean’s hand touch his thigh. Dean moved his hand back to its neutral position once he noticed Castiel looking. He felt a blush begin to heat his face without understanding why. 

“Besides,” Dean started, trying to distract from the building burning in his cheeks. “It’s a win-win. You get a vacation in Casa Winchester and I get to go a few days without seeing your ugly mug.”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together even more. “You think I’m ugly?”

“Of course not,” Dean backtracked immediately. “I’m sure you’re, y’know, good looking. For a guy.” Dean would have to change the subject if he didn’t want Castiel to notice his blushing cheeks. “It’s just something people say.”

Dean wouldn’t know where to put Castiel on the traditional 1-10 scale of hotness. He lived on a different scale entirely. 

“I see.” Castiel relaxed his arms and allowed his gaze to trail up to the ceiling. “I never understood human beauty standards. I have a hard time evaluating my vessel.”

Great, Dean thought as he put a few feet of distance between him and the bed. I gave the angel a complex. 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, man.” Dean tried to backtrack. “Chicks dig the whole dorky, just rolled out of bed look.”

Castiel hummed idly and then lifted himself to look Dean in the eye again. “Are you ready to be possessed?”

Dean had long since gotten used to Castiel’s abrupt non sequiturs. 

“Should I sit down?” Dean moved towards an empty chair a few feet away from the bed. 

“That would be smart.”

Dean carried the chair to the side of the bed and sat in it. It was strange to see Castiel laying down. The only other times that Dean had seen him in this position, he was bloodied from a fight. Castiel moved his arms to lie down completely, turning his head on the pillow to look at Dean. 

“Dean Winchester, will you let me in?”

“Castiel,” Dean breathed. He shivered in anticipation. “Yes.”

It wasn’t like the demon possessions he had seen, where the victim screamed as the demon’s black cloud rushed into their mouth. Castiel closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. A small, wavering tendril of bright smoke seeped out of his mouth. This was Castiel, more so than anything related to Jimmy Novak’s body. Dean’s adrenaline spiked as the tendril began to close the distance between them. It meandered through the air of Castiel’s bedroom like lazy cascading waves on a shoreline. Dean’s mouth opened and he tilted his chin towards the smoke without being aware he was doing so. 

The tendril of Castiel finally reached Dean’s lips. For a moment, it felt like he had used TV static as chapstick. The static feeling filled Dean’s throat. It spread over his head and spilled down his chest as more of Castiel flowed through him. It felt like the borders of his body were being erased, like he was expanding to fill the bedroom. His head was floaty and blurry, as if he was back to being seventeen and smoking Js with other nomads outside of run-down hotels. 

It was as if he had a whole new sense awakened in him. How could you explain sight to someone who was born blind? He felt his thoughts being pushed to the side to make space in his head for another entity. His body went blank for a moment before he scrambled to gain control. The feeling, which had to be Castiel, let him gather it up from the corners of his awareness. His limbs were left feeling like they fell asleep. He compressed Castiel to right at the base of his neck, behind his collarbones. He felt raw energy thrumming in the back of his mind. 

Dean opened his eyes. He hadn’t been aware that he closed them. Sam was banging on the other side of the door. They must have been making noise, even if he didn’t realize it. He stumbled up from his chair and almost instantly banged his shin against the bed frame. 

“Shit!” Dean yelped. The lightbulbs in the room popped in a sharp shatter of glass. He flinched at the noise. 

Sam yelled from behind the door, “Dean?”

“Yeah, give me a second!” Dean responded, traversing through the bedroom in the relative darkness. His adrenaline was still pumping, leaving him feeling tight and thready. He finally made it to the door and opened it for Sam. 

Sam looked different. It looked like someone had taken a long exposure photograph of him while he was moving. There was a glow to his body that made it look like he was radioactive. It made Dean feel like he was burning. He screwed his eyes shut. 

“Dean, are you okay?”

“Cas.” A growl came out of Dean’s throat and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Whatever it is you’re doing, man, you need to pull up. This is too much.”

“Dean?”

Dean felt the fizzy numbness of his body recede even further. His body felt almost normal. His eyes opened hesitantly. 

“...Cas?” Sam asked, going out on a limb.

“Still me,” Dean said, shaking his head. He could finally look at Sam directly without feeling like his face was melting. He sighed. 

“Are you okay? Your eyes were...” Sam peeked around Dean to see Castiel’s empty vessel laying on the bed. “Is he…?”

Dean tapped the side of his head. “All up here. We’re good.”

Dean stepped aside so that Sam could enter the room. Sam flicked the lightswitch a few times but the room stayed dark. He looked at Dean accusingly. 

“What can I say? I got my go-go juice.”

Sam rolled his eyes and used his phone flashlight to examine the body of Jimmy Novak. Dean followed him and lingered by the bed. 

“He’s still breathing,” Sam said. He hesitated before adding, “Do you think he needs…”

Dean curled his upper lip. “Depends?”

Sam and Dean both stared blankly at Jimmy’s empty body. 

“I’m not opening that can of worms,” Dean finally said. He patted Sam’s shoulder as he moved past him to leave the room. “I’m starving.”

Dean stumbled as he walked down the hallway. He was in the kitchen for just long enough to grab bread, peanut butter, and jelly by the time Sam entered the room. 

“Do you feel any different?” Sam asked hesitantly, lingering by the doorway. 

Dean nodded while spreading peanut butter on a piece of bread. “I feel like I ran a freakin’ marathon.” He ran his thumb on the side of the knife to gather the remaining peanut butter and stuck it in his mouth. “I’m gonna eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, eat another, down a beer, and then crash for the night.”

Sam smiled and huffed air out his nose. That was the Dean he knew. “Is Cas talking to you?”

Dean looked up to tell Sam no, but jolted when he wasn’t standing by the doorway anymore. He looked around the room and flinched again when he realized Sam was a few feet to his side. 

“Son of a bitch, when did Cas teach you to teleport?”

Sam looked confused for a second before realization dawned on him. “Cas took over for a few minutes. He told me that everything is going according to plan. It will take a few hours for you to get ‘attuned’ enough to communicate. Whatever that means.”

“Damnit Cas, I told you to let me stay behind the wheel.” Dean said with very little heat behind his words. 

“He said that would be the only time.” Sam motioned to the counter where Dean was making his sandwich earlier. “He apologized.”

Instead of the half-made peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Dean was making, there was now a plate of two completed sandwiches (cut into triangles) and an opened bottle of one of Dean’s favorite beers, fresh from the fridge. Dean’s stomach growled.

Dean picked up the plate of food and the beer. “He’s forgiven. This time.”

---

Dean woke up and headed to the bathroom on autopilot, his bladder sending alarm bells to his brain. He went through the motions as usual, yawning and scratching his tummy as he relieved himself. When he looked down to make sure that the tank was empty, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. His eyebrows pulled together and he touched his cheeks with a free hand. There was no reason why he should be blushing as he takes a whizz. He would have to do some googling later. He filed the feeling away in his mind, and the embarrassment passed as he put himself away and moved to the sink to wash his hands. 

Dean jolted when he saw his reflection move without him in the mirror. He furrowed his brows and looked pointedly down at the faucet. 

“Am I hallucinating?” he asked the empty bathroom. 

His own voice answered him. “If Sam were to walk in right now, he would see you talking to yourself.” Dean’s eyes flicked back up to the mirror. His reflection’s voice was grittier than normal, as if he ate a bowl of gravel for breakfast. “But you are not hallucinating. This is one way I can communicate with you.”

Dean laughed dryly and shook his head, looking away again. “This is weird, man. I feel like Jamie Lee Curtis.”

He had almost forgotten what had happened the night before in his post-hunt adrenaline crash. The reflection, which must be Castiel, had better posture than he’d ever had in his life. It looked like he’d gained an inch in height. 

“I can remain completely dormant if you’d prefer.” Castiel kept Dean’s body still as he spoke, save for the slight tilt of his head. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Seeing someone using his meatsuit would normally make his hand itch for a silver blade, but something about this felt different. 

Dean shook his head slightly. “No big deal. Anything else I should know about beside this whole” —he waved his hand half-heartedly at the mirror— “Mulan thing?”

“I am passively aware of the sensory input you receive,” Castiel said, lowering his eyes. “But I am able to focus my attention elsewhere when you require privacy.”

Dean felt the tips of his ears begin to burn as he remembered what he had just been doing. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So what, you’ve been busy reading my thoughts?”

Dean’s reflection tilted his head and lowered his eyebrows slightly. Seeing Castiel’s mannerisms on his body made his hands twitch. He had to stop himself from touching the mirror. To shatter it or caress it, he didn’t know. 

“The mind of a shared vessel is difficult to describe in terms you can understand,” Cas shared after a pregnant pause. “There is no branch of human studies that can be used as an accurate reference.”

“You’re an angel,” Dean said, flexing his fingers. “I’m sure you can dumb it down for me.”

Castiel took a moment before speaking, no doubt firing a trillion of his and Dean’s currently shared synapses. “We share subconscious minds in this state, but our conscious minds remain our own. Instincts and emotions are shared before coherent thought.”

Something clicked in Dean’s mind. “Wait, was that…” Dean bit his tongue. He hesitated before speaking again, pointedly not looking Castiel in the face. “Were you embarrassed earlier?”

Dean’s reflection avoided eye contact. “I understand that humans are very protective of their genitalia. I apologize. I did not intend to—”

Dean cut him off. “Okay, we’re not going to talk about genitalia. New rule.” Dean worked furiously to think of a way to change the subject. Finally, “Why don’t I feel any different?”

Castiel looked thankful for the prompt. “Human senses aren’t accustomed to celestial intent. You felt that when I first entered your body. It will slowly become more comprehensible as we continue sharing the same vessel.”

Dean barked out a short laugh to distract from thinking about it too much. “Thanks for the fine print. Anything I should be on the lookout for?”

“Nothing major.” Dean kept expecting to see Castiel’s blue eyes when their gazes linked. Something about making eye contact with himself felt weird. “You were created to house the most powerful archangel in heaven, so there’s no chance of unintentional damage to your body on my behalf.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, bud.” Dean raised his eyebrows at his reflection. “You can be scrappy.”

Seeing his reflection give a small, easy smile was something that Dean hadn’t seen in a while. 

After a small pause, Dean swallowed and cleared his throat, speaking carefully. “Listen, can you—”

As if reading his thoughts, Dean’s reflection changed to Jimmy Novak, trenchcoat and all. 

“Is this better?” Castiel asked, back to his normal appearance. 

Dean’s lips quirked up. It was nice to hear his voice again. “Yeah.” His mouth was a little dry. He tried again. “Yeah, Cas. That’s better.”

Castiel smiled at him before dissolving into Dean’s reflection. Dean lifted his hand and rubbed his face, watching his reflection follow his movements exactly. Everything was back to normal. He nodded at the empty mirror and turned on his heel to start his day. 

---

After a cup of coffee for breakfast, Dean started to become aware of how dirty he was. He never actually had the chance to take a shower after the fight with the witch. Thankfully, she was staying in a classy apartment rather than a cabin in the woods, but still. He probably smelled like an entire gym locker room. He put it off for as long as he could, not knowing how to bring it up to Castiel. He almost made it to noon by reading lore in a storage room before Sam leaned over him to see what the book said and scrunched his nose. 

“Dude, come on. You stink so bad,” Sam said. 

Dean rolled his eyes and stood up from where he was sitting. He gave Sam a shit-eating grin. “I smell like a bed of roses.”

“Sure, maybe one that a dog just peed in.” Sam chuckled under his breath. “Maybe you can ask Cas to zap you clean.”

“I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way.” Dean scooted around Sam and made his way to exit the room. “Kids these days, always looking for the easy way out.”

“Dude, I’m 32!” Sam yelled after him as he entered the hallway. 

Dean chuckled at his own humor as he walked to his bedroom to grab a fresh set of clothes. Once he realized that he needed a shower, everything felt uncomfortable. It would be nice to get under the bunker’s perfect water pressure again. 

He spent a longer time than normal picking out clothes, still putting off having to deal with Castiel possessing him while he showers. Finally, he entered the bathroom he claimed as his own. There was just enough space for the basics: toilet, shower, sink, counter, mirrored medicine cabinet. 

He stood in front of the mirror awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to broach the subject. 

“Cas?” He said to the empty room. 

The mirror didn’t change. Dean wondered if maybe he imagined the entire possession. He clicked his tongue and turned away from the mirror, but jolted when he saw Castiel standing next to him. 

“Holy shit!”

“No,” Castiel answered. He tilted his head at Dean. “It’s me.”

Dean shook his head in shock. “How are you here?”

“I’m not, physically speaking.” Castiel lifted his arms to show off his form. “I’m a visual representation constructed by your mind.” He looked down at himself. “I’m surprised. It normally takes months for seraphim to harmonize with their vessel’s brainwaves enough to present themselves without the aid of a reflection like this.”

“Look at you go.” Dean checked the mirror quickly. Castiel had no reflection. 

Castiel seemed to realize where he was for the first time. “Are you about to take a shower?”

Dean nodded.

“I assume you wish to have privacy,” Castiel said.

Dean felt his cheeks heat up. “Please.”

“I will put my attention elsewhere.”

“How?”

Castiel thought for a moment. “If you’re willing to try, you may be able to create an illusion of something for me to distract myself with.”

Dean hummed an affirmation. He tried to think of something that Castiel would like. He closed his eyes shut and imagined Castiel holding it. 

After a few moments, he heard Castiel say, “The Bible?”

Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel holding a copy of the Bible. It was small and leather bound, with the title embossed in gold. It looked like an exact copy of the one that his dad used to keep in the trunk of the Impala. 

“Yeah, the Bible. You’re an angel, aren’t you?”

Castiel flipped through the pages. He smiled. “Have you ever read the Bible, Dean?”

“Uh, no. I never got around to it, surprisingly.”

Castiel turned the book around so that Dean could see the pages. They were all blank. “Your brain didn’t know what words to add. Try something that you know.”

Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes, picturing what he wanted Castiel to have in his mind’s eye. 

He opened his eyes to see Castiel examining it in his hands. “What is this?”

“My old walkman,” Dean said. 

It was beat up, with countless chips in the plastic. The wire to the headphones had a kink or two in it, but Dean knew that it would still work. It was loaded with an AC/DC track that Dean stole from the Impala’s glove box when he was 17. 

“This is before I turned it into an EMF detector.” Dean wanted to reach for it, but hesitated. His hands would probably pass right through it. “It’s nice to see it again.”

Castiel looked at it fondly. “How do I use it?”

“Here, put these over your ears.” Dean grabbed the headphones on instinct. They felt solid in his hands. The feeling stopped him in his tracks. “I can touch this?”

“It’s all in your brain, Dean.” Castiel set the walkman body on the bathroom counter and took the headphones from Dean. Dean felt the soft brush of his fingers as he did. “The same brain that is letting you see and hear illusions can let you feel them too.”

Dean licked his lips. “Okay. Awesome. I can handle this.”

Despite feeling anxiety grow in his gut, Dean felt calmness attempting to wash over him. He looked at Castiel. 

“Pretend I’m here physically,” Castiel said, not mentioning the jedi mind tricks he was no-doubt pulling. “Show me how to use the walkman.”

What’s the big deal, Dean? Dean thought to himself. Never taught an illusion of an angel how to use a walkman in your bathroom before?

Dean forced himself to take a full breath. “Okay. Okay.” He shook his head slightly to shake off his anxiety. “Put the headphones on.”

Castiel did. He picked up the walkman from where he set it on the counter. “What button should I press?”

“It should be all rewinded and everything. Just press the play button.” After a moment, Dean added, “It’s the triangle.”

Castiel nodded and pressed it. He looked at Dean with a smile. “It’s working!” he said, a bit louder than normal. 

Dean gave him an awkward thumbs up. “Just close your eyes and listen for a few minutes.”

Castiel gave him a thumbs up back. “I’ll just… um…” He looked around for a place to be while Dean undressed. He pulled the headphones off for a second. “Where should I go?”

Dean suddenly realized that the bathroom didn’t have much room for privacy. He looked around for a moment before lowering the lid of the toilet. 

He pointed at the now-covered toilet. “Sit here. Turn the volume up.” “Okay.” Castiel sat. He put the headphones back on and fiddled with the buttons. He closed his eyes. “I’ll be here.”

Dean just looked at Castiel for a few seconds. This was so weird. He trusted that Castiel wouldn’t try to spy on him, but he was still sitting less than a foot away. He hesitantly took his shirt off. Castiel didn’t react. Socks were next. Pants followed soon after. 

He was standing in front of Castiel in his underwear. 

Right, he needed to turn the water on first. He had to awkwardly bend around Castiel’s knees to reach the faucet handle, but thankfully Castiel ignored the movement. He could almost feel the warmth of Castiel’s imaginary body heat on his torso. He adamantly ignored it, for Little Dean’s sake. 

The water was running. Moment of truth. Dean took a deep breath and pulled his briefs off. He didn’t dare to look at Castiel in this state. He had to bite back a hysterical laugh from the absurdity of it all. 

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it. The thought ran circles around his mind. He’s in your head, don’t think about it. He can feel what you feel, don’t think about it. 

Dean hopped in the shower. He gave a sigh of relief when he finally pulled the curtain back, blocking Castiel from his line of sight. He could pretend like it was any other day. The water hit him like rain. 

He sang Shoot to Thrill under his breath as he washed himself clean. 

---

Thank God that Dean’s tastebuds were still working. If he started tasting molecules instead of flavors, he would have to kick Castiel out. He piled his plate up high with the chicken alfredo that he spent the past few hours cooking. Sam had already served himself a plate of the pasta before Dean added the chicken and was sitting at the kitchen table, reading something on his laptop with one hand while he ate with the other. Dean grabbed some silverware and sat down across from him. 

Without thinking, Dean wove his fingers together on his lap and lowered his head. He sat in relative silence, mouthing something inaudible under his breath. 

“Dean, what are you doing?”

Suddenly, Dean snapped back into reality. He unclasped his hands and moved them from his lap to above the table. He quickly picked up his silverware and started to spike pasta with his fork. “I’m eating dinner, Sammy.”

“No.” Sam laughed. “No, before that. Were you… saying grace?”

Dean felt a blush begin to rise in his cheeks and pointedly ignored Sam’s gaze. “That must have been Cas.”

“Or Jimmy.”

“What?”

Sam slid his laptop to the side so that he could look at Dean directly. “I’ve been doing some reading about angel vessels. There isn’t much out there, but we know that angels leave behind a trace of grace in the vessels they occupy.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, having completely forgotten about that part. 

Sam took a bite of pasta and chewed quickly to continue speaking. “What if the opposite is also true? Cas has been inside Jimmy for years now. He could have picked up on some of his habits.”

“Dude,” Dean said. “Never say that again.”

Sam paused for a second, then rolled his eyes when he understood. “I’m just saying, Dean. This is uncharted territory. Who knows how angels and vessels affect each other? The Men of Letters’ research on them is all theoretical.”

“I’m not going to church anytime soon, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Dean paused. “Are you asking to research me?”

“No. Well, it would be helpful since you’re already here.” Sam looked up at Dean hopefully but shook his head when he saw the look on Dean’s face. “But no. Definitely not.”

Dean rolled his eyes. 

Sam changed the subject. “Good job on dinner, by the way. Thanks for making it.”

“Nesting has its perks.” Dean gave Sam a smile with cheeks filled with pasta. 

---

The nighttime was when it felt truly bizarre. Dean had to lay in bed and try to fall asleep, knowing that Castiel was just a sharp inhale away. He had been tossing and turning for almost an hour. Angels didn’t sleep, so Castiel must have been just watching this all happen. He couldn’t fall asleep if he thought about it. 

“Cas?” he finally voiced into the empty room.

Castiel appeared, sitting on the side of Dean’s bed. He turned his head to look down at him. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean sighed and relaxed into the pillow. “This is weird.”

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked. Dean barked out a laugh on instinct. 

“Me? Peachy.” Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position. “How’s Hotel Dean? Do I need to call housekeeping?”

Castiel looked out into the darkness, giving Dean a view of his side profile. “You’re the strongest vessel known to man. I am… exceedingly comfortable.”

“Good. That’s… good.” Dean felt embarrassment in his gut from the compliment, unsure if it was his own or Castiel’s. “You aren’t bored?”

Castiel returned his focus to Dean. “I do not find being this close to you boring.”

Dean forgot what he was going to say. His mouth was suddenly dry. He licked his lips and broke eye contact. He could still feel the weight of Castiel’s gaze. 

“Um, what’ll happen when I fall asleep?” Dean had to clear his throat to get his words out clearly. 

“Nothing unusual. I will remain dormant.”

“Would it wake me up if you took over?”

Castiel furrowed his brows. Finally, he answered, “No. It would be less invasive than sleepwalking.”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t take over while I’m getting my few hours,” Dean said carefully, looking back at Castiel. “If I can’t tell the difference.”

“Dean…” Dean could already tell from his tone that Castiel was going to decline the offer. 

He adjusted his position on the bed. “Come on, man. You’ve gotta take what I’m giving to you. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes for a few seconds before responding. “I understand.”

“Just don’t do anything weird.” Dean relaxed back into laying down on the bed. “Take care of my body.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel looked away before blinking out of existence. 

Dean didn’t have trouble falling asleep after that. 

---

Sam was walking to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning when he heard sound coming from Dean’s lounge (which Sam refused to call The Dean Cave, no matter how many times Dean threatened to cut his hair off). He changed course to investigate, his socked feet making soft pat-pats in the morning silence. The door was slightly ajar, so he pushed through to see the TV on and Dean sitting on the couch. Sam could have sworn that he recognized the show, from some article or meme that he saw online. Finally it clicked. 

“Is that… Riverdale?” Sam asked incredulously. 

Movement came from the couch. “Don’t be too loud, you’ll wake up Dean.”

Sam was caught off guard for a second before he put the pieces together in his mind. This would take some getting used to. 

“That’s creepy,” Sam said, pointing at Dean’s body. “So, I’m talking to Cas now?”

“Yes.” Castiel turned his attention back to the show. “Claire recommended this show to me. She said that I would find it funny. I’m not sure I understand the joke.”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone does.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Does Dean know you’re making his eyes watch this?”

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, opening them to meet Sam’s gaze. “He is currently dreaming about being in a high school musical theatre program. I assume that on some level, he is processing the show alongside me.”

“Um…” Sam floundered for words for a moment, suddenly struck by the strangeness of the situation. “Do you want any coffee? I’m starting a pot.”

“I don’t.” Castiel paused. “But bring a cup anyways. Dean’s about to wake up.”

Sam walked back to the kitchen, muttering, “So creepy…” under his breath. 

---

Maybe Dean shouldn’t have been so adamant about taking a case while Castiel and him were shacking up. 

Side note, Dean thought as he struggled to breathe. Find out whether shacking up is only about having sex.

It was easy to feel regret now, as he was being held against the back of a gravestone psychically by his neck. But hey, pobody’s nerfect. Maybe it was Sam’s fault for agreeing to come with him. 

The case was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn for a ghost that had been spotted a few times in a Topeka graveyard. Just a quick day trip. Everything was going according to plan until… Well, Dean’s neck hurt. Thankfully, they had dug up the grave before the ghost showed up. Double thankfully, the ghost’s attention was entirely on Dean. 

He couldn’t help but smile a little as Sam dropped the lit pack of matches on the ghost’s salty and gasoline-drenched bones. Said smile turned into frightened eye contact with Sam when the ghost didn’t disappear. 

“Dean, something else’s keeping it here!”

“Y’think?” Dean gritted out his words through clenched teeth. He made a snap decision. “Cas, take the wheel!”

What Sam saw was Dean breaking out of the ghost’s psychic hold, thrusting his hand through its chest, and the ghost burning away from the inside out. 

What Dean saw was different. 

He felt brisk air as it hit his exposed forearms, cooler than the warm summer night he had just been in. He opened his eyes to see himself standing in the middle of the countryside in front of a barn. A familiar barn. 

The wind picked up as Dean walked closer to the barn’s doors. The roof started to stutter and creak. The doors began to shake. 

He knew this barn. 

He reached his hand out for the door handle, but the doors opened in a burst of sparks and splintering wood before he could even touch it. The inside of the barn was revealed. 

There were sigils and graffiti painted all over the walls. He knew those sigils. He painted them with Bobby. 

He could make out someone walking over to him from the shadows. 

“Are you gonna stab me with a knife?” Dean asked, holding his arms out. 

Castiel continued to walk closer to Dean. “I apologize for the abrupt change in scenery. This is the first location I could think of to take you.”

“This is fine, Cas.” Dean huffed out a laugh, still coming down from an adrenaline high from the hunt. “This is just fine.”

Castiel smiled contentedly. 

Dean suddenly remembered what situation he had just escaped from. “Wait a minute, if you’re here, who’s handling my body?”

“Still me,” Castiel said, somewhat smugly. “I’m able to multitask.”

“So what’re we doing right now?” Dean couldn’t help but circle around Castiel slightly, echoing his footsteps from years ago. 

Castiel noticed his repetition and watched him idly. “Sam and I are refilling the grave. Would you like to take back over?”

“Nah, I’ll let you handle the heavy lifting.” Dean finally planted himself by the table of various weapons and leaned against it. “How does it feel?”

Castiel tilted his head at Dean. “I don’t experience physical exhaustion like you do. It doesn’t feel like anything.”

“No, not the digging.” Dean’s thumb rubbed against the rough wood of the table. He lowered his gaze slightly, too embarrassed to say it while looking at Castiel. “Do I feel any different than Jimmy?”

Castiel tilted his chin up and inhaled as he thought. “You have a higher white blood cell count than Jimmy. Your cholesterol is higher than his as well.” He paused. “You also have more” —he squinted his eyes slightly as he decided on a word to use— “brightness to your vessel.”

“What, I’m blowing sunshine up your ass?”

“No,” Castiel responded, drawing his eyebrows together. “You’re the righteous man. You’re divine.”

He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. The sky was blue, two and two was four, and Dean Winchester was from the heavens. 

Dean scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not divine, Cas. I’m just a guy.”

He heard cracks of lightning. Castiel was no longer looking at him, deciding to move his gaze to something behind him. 

“Dean,” Castiel said, eyes twinkling in mirth. “Look behind you.”

Dean only had to turn his head slightly to see them. 

There were wings growing out of his back. Big and black, exactly like the ones he saw on Castiel. 

“No.” Dean shook his head. “This is all backwards.” He looked back at Castiel. “Am I dreaming?”

Castiel didn’t say anything, choosing instead to close the distance between Dean and him. For a second, Dean thought—

“Dude, you need to get a sleep apnea machine.” Sam laughed from where he was sitting behind the steering wheel. “You sound like an airplane.”

Dean tensed in his seat and checked his surroundings a few times to comfort himself. He was in the Impala with Sam. 

“I was sleeping?” he asked. 

Sam quickly glanced at him, keeping his attention on the road. “I don’t really know. Cas took over to kill the ghost and clean up, but then he just sat silently in the car. It was creepy.” Sam shrugged. “I just said something when you started to snore.”

“Gee, thanks.” Dean rubbed his hand over his face. It hadn’t felt like a dream. Castiel must have done his forehead-touch thing to send him back to the land of the living. “Remind me to stop crashing after hunts. I get the weirdest dreams.”

“Yeah, you love it when I tell you what to do.” Sam checked the mirrors dutifully. “How’s Cas?”

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. “Weren’t you the one who just talked to him?”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one he’s riding shotgun in.” Sam’s mouth quirked. “What’s that like?”

“It’s great.” Dean adjusted his position in the seat. “There, we talked about it. Can we stop by a store? I need to pick up some protein.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure thing.”

---

Dean was lying awake in his bed sometime between day two and day three when he finally asked it. 

The words rang in the silence of the night. “What’s it like needing a vessel?”

In the blink of an eye, Castiel appeared. This time, he was lying in the bed next to Dean, under the covers in three layers of clothing. Dean felt underdressed in his pajama pants and old band shirt. The two men were lying on their sides and looking right at each other. Dean thought about telling him to give him some space, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t physically there. 

Castiel was silent for long enough that Dean started to wonder if he was going to answer.

“It makes me feel demonic,” Castiel confessed. His eyes almost glowed in the dim light. “It should not be the will of heaven to ruin a life just to exist on the physical plane. Having to tear someone from their family, from their entire life. I admit, I feel some semblance of comfort knowing that Jimmy is in heaven.” He lowered his eyes in shame. “But Claire, Amelia. Even those in his life he wasn’t close to. Every human has such an intricate web of relationships and reasons to live. Using them as a vessel erases the beauty of humanity.”

Castiel paused. “Jimmy wasn’t my first vessel.”

Dean looked at him in silence, willing him to continue. 

“She was a young woman. Carlotta Richards.” Dean thought he could feel the phantom puffs of Castiel’s exhales on his cheek. “She left her family as a teenager. They didn’t approve of her.” Castiel looked at Dean meaningfully. “She saw me as a blessing. She didn’t realize she was cursed from the moment she let me in.”

Dean’s mouth was dry. “What happened?”

“The mission I used her for ended and I returned to the celestial plane.” Castiel continued to avoid Dean’s eyes. “Her heaven is beautiful. She spends her time in an eternal Saturday sunset on a picnic with her soulmate.” Castiel finally looked at him. “Dorothy.”

Dean held his breath. He was transfixed, completely and utterly. 

“What else?” 

“You,” Castiel said in a low voice. “This body is no closer to what I look like than yours is. I’m not a man with dark hair and blue eyes. I’m not a man at all. Angels’ true forms are their most personal expressions of the self. You deserve to see it.” Castiel’s voice was soft, so soft. He was nearly whispering when he spoke again, his eyes burning into Dean’s. “I wish that you could see who I truly am.”

Both of them wondered, in that moment, if this would be when it happened. Neither moved. 

Dean finally exhaled. “This is who you are.”

Dean blinked. Castiel was gone. 

He didn’t sleep a wink. 

---

It had been a few days. 

Dean could tell that Sam knew it was time for Castiel to go back. Dean knew too. He was eating breakfast when the man himself made an appearance. 

“It’s time for me to return to my rightful vessel,” Castiel said, sitting in the chair across from Dean that was empty a moment before. 

Dean nodded and finished the last bite of his cereal. “You sure?”

“I’ll do an examination of the vessel before I return.” Castiel watched Dean wipe the milk off his lip. “But I believe so.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. He stood up and brought his bowl to the sink. “Let’s get you back home.”

Castiel disappeared after that, leaving Dean to walk to his room alone. He knocked on Sam’s door as he walked by it. 

“Cas is going back to his vessel, you good?”

He heard a muffled, “Let me know how it goes!” from through the door and continued down the hall. Dean was vaguely grateful that Sam didn’t want to be in the room for it, but he didn’t care to examine why. 

Castiel blinked into existence again when he opened the door to his room. Dean turned on the light (thanking Sam for replacing the lightbulbs) to see him staring at his prone body from where he was standing at the foot of the bed. 

“What’s the verdict, Doc?”

Castiel hummed. “The spell seems to have run its course. It should be entirely safe for me to return to my vessel.”

“Good, good.” Dean went over to grab the chair he used before. “Sitting down again?”

Castiel nodded. 

Dean pulled the chair up to the same position, mind only spinning a little bit from seeing two Castiels in the same room. 

“So, what do I do?” Dean asked. “Just exhale really hard, or what?”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, standing behind him. “I will take care of it. Close your eyes.”

Dean did. 

The reversal process was the same level of strange. It felt like someone was painlessly turning him inside-out. He could still feel the static over his lips as the white light trickled out of his mouth. He felt Castiel’s grace rubbing against the inside of his skin as it retreated up his body. Dean was glad he was sitting down, because his knees felt like they were made of Jell-O. 

Castiel began to rise into a sitting position as he returned to Jimmy Novak’s body. Dean subconsciously trailed after the white smoke as it left his mouth, closing the distance between him and Castiel’s true vessel. They both inched closer to contact as the cloud that was Castiel transferred between them. 

Dean wasn’t aware that he had been kissing Castiel until Castiel started kissing him back. 

It was like touching the surface of the sun. Dean leaned into Castiel’s body for a moment before pulling away. He felt like he was burning. 

“Woah, I—” Dean fought out a breath. 

Castiel was a deer caught in headlights. He scrambled off the bed and started moving away. 

Dean suddenly realized that he didn’t want him to go. He grabbed his forearm. 

“Don’t leave,” Dean pleaded. 

Dean didn’t let go of Castiel’s forearm. Castiel didn’t say anything. Dean kept not letting go. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s body was tense, like a rubber band about to snap.  

To Dean, It all made sense in that moment. Every hidden glance, choreographed touch, charged moment. Dean couldn’t imagine being content without him. He felt like a puzzle whose final piece had just clicked into place. 

Dean took a deep breath. “Cas, you’re my only happy ending. It’s you.” It was a revelation. “And I want a happy ending. I want a happy ending so bad it hurts.” Dean moved his hands to grip his trench coat by the lapels. “I’ve fought for it. I’ve died for it. I need the sun to set, Cas. I need you to be by my side when it does.”

“Dean,” Cas said. 

“So yes. Of course, yes.” Dean let go of Castiel’s now-crumpled trench coat, leaving his hands to slip and rest flat on Castiel’s chest. “Yes back then, yes today, yes tomorrow. Yes to you every day until I’m dead in the ground. Yes to every day after that.”

“Dean,” Cas prayed. He lifted a hand to cup Dean’s cheek. 

Dean’s eyes threatened to fill with tears, but his eyebrows were set sternly in place. “Please, Cas. I won’t ask you twice. Stay.”

“Yes.”

Castiel was the one who closed the space between them. It was electricity in motion. Their kisses were clumsy, awkward, but neither of them would change a thing as they fell onto Castiel’s bed and the kisses began to deepen. 

---

Dean would scratch the back of his neck as he stood next to Castiel, looking at Sam sitting at the table. 

“Hiya, Sammy,” he would say, getting his attention. “Cas and I are... Well…”

Castiel would interrupt. “Your brother and I are having sex now. We don’t plan on stopping.”

Sam would be caught off guard for a moment, but he would smile and laugh kindly with them at the absurdity of it all. 

“It’s about time,” he would finally say. “You two have been circling each other for a while now. It was either killing each other or…”

Dean would smile and say, “Falling in love.”

“Well.” Sam would laugh again. “I was gonna say making out. But that’s good too.”

Dean would feel embarrassed and lower his gaze to the floor for a moment. But Castiel would grab his hand, squeeze it, and everything would turn out alright. 

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

:>

*******************************

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[itsthestutterforme]

Nephilim 2/2 (Supernatural)

Characters: Michael!Dean x reader, Dean x reader

Summary: Sam and Dean have been tracking Y/N down since Michael left Dean's body. They manage to catch her by that did not go down without a fight.

--

"I think we'll enjoy the rest of our time together as parents," he adds. "Wait, what?" He slides down the head board and pulls me into his chest.

Y/N's eyes drift to some random place on the floor as her mind processes. "I thought that angels couldn't have children,"

"Oh we can, it's just frowned upon." How is he so nonchalant about this? Her mouth flies open in disbelief. He closes her mouth with his forefinger and pecks her lips before falling asleep. What the hell?

It's been a month since Y/N left the hotel. She knew something was wrong when Michael didn't return for three days and his warding was weak enough for her to slip past. Since she left, she did research about angels and demons. She had to be prepared for the worst so learned about wardings to keep them away and got tattoos to make sure she couldn't get possessed.

She picked things up fast, which made it harder and harder for Sam and Dean to track her. Sam couldn't believe that Dean got a girl pregnant. Well, technically it was Michael, but it was Dean's too. The only they could find her was by Castiel tracking the baby's grace.

They caught her coming out of the grocery store with totes full of food. As soon as she saw Dean, she rushed to her car. Dean tries to hold her back but she kicked him in his chest and he fell on the ground. Sam grabbed her from behind. She held on to his arm before kicking her legs up and using her momentum to send him flying into the car.

She pushed him away from the car before hopping into the drivers side and driving away. They went in the Impala and chases after her. They were right on her tail until she used her emergency brake to make a 90 degree turn into an alley way. They drove right passed it by accident and the next thing they knew, she was gone. "Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaims before dialing Cas. "I like her," Sam says.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean says as Cas answers. "Cas, it's time for plan B. Zap her to the bunker." Dean adds. Castiel zapped himself into Y/N's car and she yelled out in surprise. When he reached out to touch her, she blocked him and punched him in the face.

"Ouch! You're mean," He slaps her forehead to knocks her out with his powers before zapping her to the bunker.

They confine her into a room and restrain her to the chair. A few hours later, she wakes up and pulls at her restraint. "Guys, she's awake," Cas says. "When I get out of here, I will kill all of you. I finally know how to kill an angel, Michael. I-" "My name is not Michael, it's Dean," Dean says. "Enough with these lies."

"It's not a lie. I was possessed by the archangel Michael. I remember all of the terrible things he did to people." Dean explains. "Is that all you remember?" Dean quickly got what she was saying and ran a hand over his face. He kneeled down in front of her and says, "I remember everything about that night,"

"I think this is the time where we leave." Sam tells Cas. "But why? Don't you want to know about that night?" Cas asks. "No, I really don't." The boys leave the room and Y/N asks, "Was it you or Michael?" "That was all me, baby,"

Wow, he even says baby differently. They hold eye contact for a moment in silence filled with sexual tension. "I did some research about angels and this," Y/N says as she motions to her baby bump. "What did you find?" "Enough to keep her safe and comfortable while I'm still alive," "Wait, hold on, what are you talking about?"

"Come on, Mi- Dean. I wasn't born yesterday, I know I don't survive this. The baby is too strong. I can feel it grow in power every day. How can a human bare a celestial being and survive?" "We'll find a way, we always do. You didn't ask for anything of this," "Niether did you,"

"Now are going to let me out of these or not?" "You sure you're not going to punch me in the face again?" "Not unless you deserve it," Y/N says, making them both chuckle. "They're a better match than I thought," Mary says as her, Bobby, Cas and Sam look into the room.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

The Other Woman

Summary - Y/N comes back from a solo hunt to find an unknown woman kissing her boyfriend. Who is she? Will it end their relationship or can they get past the mistake? (I suck at summaries)

Warning - Angst, fluff-ish, implied smut, crack, Swearing ofc, mentions of cheating

Pairing - Dean x reader, Dean x unknown woman

A/N - This is written for @flamencodiva's 1700 prompt challenge. Congratulations on your 1700! My prompt is "I want that woman out of my house!"

@superfanficnatural (tagging to let you know about my submission)

"Dean?" You called out while coming down the stairs but you stopped in your tracks when you saw the scene in front of you. You could hear Dean's moaning while a woman continued to kiss him.

"DEAN!" You screamed.

"Y-Y/N? You are back early", Dean pushed the woman off to a side, "How was the hunt?"

"Are you serious? You are asking me about the hunt?", Dean stared the floor suddenly finding it too interesting, "How about you answer me about that woman who was just kissing you? Don't lie because you were enjoyin' it a little too much", Y/N scowled at her boyfriend.

"Y/N, it's not like that. Trust me? She-"

"Trust you? Unbelievable! How long was I gone on that hunt Dean that you were so needy you had to bring home another woman? Is she a hunter too? Or is she some skank that you picked up from a shady bar?" You were fuming with anger.

"Hey! I'm not some skank or a whore", the girl tried to defend herself.

"SHUT UP", you growled and launched yourself at the girl.

"Y/N/N hey. Stop it! Don't hurt her", Dean pulled you back before you could throw a punch at her. Tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn't believe your ears. Dean was protecting that woman. "Y/N, I'm sorry. This is not what it lo"-Dean's sentence was again cut off by your palms hitting his cheek.

"I hate you Dean Winchester. You fucking asshole. If you wanted an out from this relationship- from me, yo-you could have told me. You didn't have to go and cheat on me," Dean was too stunned by the slap to say anything and you took the opportunity to ran towards your room. "Y/N! WAIT!" Dean took after you but by the time he had reached your room, you had already shut the door.

"Y/N, sweetheart, please open the door. Let me explain. It's not what it looks like. Open the door or I swear I will break down this damn door. Please", Dean's voice broke at the end. He didn't want to lose you.

You opened the door. You needed to hear what he had to say. You needed to hear him out for a closure.

"You have five minutes to explain and I want that woman out of my house", Dean looked at you and his heart broke. Your eyes were red and cheeks were tear stained.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I will never cheat on you. You are the best thing that has happened to me but she has to stay in the bunker". You scoffed.

"Dean? Dean," You heard the woman's annoyingly sweet voice, "There you are. Y/N I'm so sorry for interrupting you guys". She knew you. Who the fuck was this woman? You took a good look at her and insecurities started to creep into you. Of course Dean would choose her over you. She was tall, beautiful. She was perfect for Dean. You were the one who was way out of his league.

"What are you doing here, baby? I told you wait outside", Dean gritted out. Your jaw almost hit the ground. He had a nickname for her?

"Baby? Un-fucking-believable! How long is this-how long do you know her?"

"We have known each other for a long time", the woman smiled at you.

"What was it, Dean? Was I not enough? Was it the sex? Am I not beautiful anymore or did you just get bored with me?" Tears were streaming down your face.

"No no no, honey no. I love you. She-I-this is so fucking complicated". "We are done. Don't talk to me ever again", with that you slammed the door shut.

"Y/N/N just- son of a bitch! And you, I told you to not follow me and why the fuck did you kiss me?" Dean asked the woman.

"I was missing you. It has been so long and you didn't touch me for once. You always take such good care of me. I missed your hands", Dean ran his hands down his face.

"I need a fucking drink", Dean sighed and went to the kitchen.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam looked up from the lore books he was reading, "Heard Y/N screaming. What happened?"

"Do I look like I'm fucking okay? Y/N, s-she broke up with me, man".

"Why?" Sam frowned. "Barbie-in-leather-jacket kissed me and she saw that. She thinks I cheated on her. How am I going to make things right, Sammy?"

"Dean", the woman's sweet voice called out to Dean, "Why did you leave me alone? Don't you like me anymore?",the woman purred and made herself cozy in Dean's lap and started to grind herself into Dean. Dean started to groan when his jeans started to tighten.

"Did you tell her the truth?" Sam asked tried to hide his laughter when he saw his brother's discomfort.

"Wow! I thought you would at least try and come up with an apology but here I find you with your side-piece sitting in your lap. Wait, was I the fucking side piece all these times?" You couldn't believe your eyes when you had caught that woman kiss the living daylights out of Dean. You prayed that it was all a big misunderstanding. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying so much. You had come out of your to get yourself a much needed drink and you had hoped that Dean would apologise to you but when you entered the kitchen, all your hopes had turned to dust.

"Y/N, listen", Sam laughed after he saw Dean mouthing 'save me' to him, "It's not Dean's fault. We had gone on a witch hunt, things became complicated and here we are. It's a spell". You glared at Sam. You couldn't believe that he was defending his piece of a shit, cheating brother.

"A spell?" You asked slowly, "Like a love spell?" You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at Dean.

"No, a transformation spell. There is no better way to explain this but that woman in Dean's lap, that's Baby".

In your hunting life you had come across many unrealistic, weird things but this is the weirdest thing you have heard or rather seen.

"Baby? As in...the Impala? Dean's car - the 1967 Chevy Impala? What in the hell?" Your eyes widened.

"Witches man! Freaking witches!" Dean muttered, "Baby please for once can you stop touching me. It's freaking uncomfortable". The woman huffed and got up from Dean's lap.

"It doesn't look uncomfortable. I think you are kind of enjoying this", you raised one eyebrow at Dean.

"Uncomfortable? My car just gave a fucking lap dance and this-this is a natural body reaction. Y/N I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I can never cheat on you. I love you so fucking much", Dean pouted ,"Sammy, please tell me you know how to change Kim Kardashian over there back to my car".

"Dean uh-that's the problem. There is no reverse spell and the witch is already dead. It says that the spell will wear off in three days that means she will turn into a car tomorrow", Sam pointed out.

"I'll be back to my original self tomorrow? Oh my God, Dean did you hear that? I'll be back to normal tomorrow, then you can ride me as much as you want on full speed. Maybe after you wash me. I was so dirty after the last ride", Baby said while playing with the hem of Dean's shirt.

"Great. Until then, I will be in my room. I don't want to see my boyfriend having sex with his car. See ya tomorrow boys", you grabbed two bottles of beer.

"Y/N! Sweetheart don't leave me here alone and horny with my car who wants to get into my pants," Dean begged which made you and Sam erupt into a fit of giggles.

"Son of a bitch! I swear I'll hunt down and burn alive every single witch existing in this whole world!" Dean groaned which only made you two laugh even more.

[flamencodiva]

Hunter Encyclopedia: 2 in the Morning

Description:  Y/N has traveled the world and faced every kind of monster imaginable which is why the nickname Hunter Encyclopedia, or H.E. for short has stuck.  She grew up in the hunting business and knew all about the Winchesters and read the Carver Edlund books before they came to ask her for help. Sam is the researcher and Dean is the action man, or at least that is what she thought, but could she have been wrong?

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventual), Sam x Reader (Platonic Friendship)

Warnings: Supernatural level Violence.

A/N:  written for @spndeanbingo​

Square filled: 2 in the Morning 

Word Count: 6717

This is also for @supernatural-jackles​ Bi-weekly Challenge. 

Prompts I used:  I dare you to kiss me and  I don’t owe you an explanation

A/N 2: Border by @talesmaniac89​ Beta’d by @emoryhemsworth​ and a special thanks to @waywardbeanie​ for the amazing summary!

Dean paced at the foot of the motel beds with his cell phone in his hands. It had been a few weeks since he talked to Y/N “Hunter Encyclopedia” Y/L/N. Even after the conversation they had last time they met, she still seemed to put Dean in a very peculiar box. It annoyed the elder hunter when Sam would get a phone call from her asking about specific research topics she would need, but never seemed to ask about him. Honestly, what made him hesitate to call was how she would react to it, but right now he and Sam were desperate. 

Right now they were dealing with some form of Chinese monster that they stumbled upon. Dean got excited because the witness they were talking to had said the word Mogwai. The first thing that popped into Dean’s head was the movie Gremlins, but he had to be careful. He, more than anyone else, knew that sometimes stories changed over time. Naturally, one only had to look at the vampire lore to know that garlic did jack shit to them. Lifting his head from the phone in his hand, he looked at the clock on one of the motel nightstands. 

2:00 am 

Would she even be awake? If she was a hunter, most likely, but could he really risk calling her and waking her up from the rest she needed? He could feel Sam’s eyes on him before the movement made Dean turn his head. 

“Don’t you dare,” he called out, finger pointing at his younger brother. “I’m going to call, I just need to know what to tell her.” 

“You mean you need to figure out how you’re going to flirt with her,” Sam sighed as he flipped the page of the book he was reading. “Can you just call her and tell her we have an unknown Chinese monster and so far all we got is the word Mogwai?” 

“I was not thinking of a way to flirt with her, I just… shut up,” Dean huffed. “I know what I need to say so I’ll call her,” he declared looking down at his phone once the screen awoke from its slumber. 

Sam watched as Dean started the call, placing his phone to his ear. The younger Winchester couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of how his older brother was acting. It was rare to see Dean stumble over a girl, let alone someone who brushed him off easily. Sam chuckled when Dean’s back straightened. He figured that Y/N answered his call. 

“Y/N, Dean Winchester,” Dean said as he smiled brightly. “Sorry for calling so late, Sam and I—” Sam watched as he paused and tilted his head in amusement. “Is that the Thundercats theme song?” Dean sounded like a kid being told he was getting ice cream. “Right, sorry, I just—yeah, about my call…Sam is a bit tied up at the moment, we have a very strange case going on.” Sam shook his head as Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain, I think it’d be great if you could meet us where we are.” 

“Dean, if you could describe what’s going on it would save me the trip,” Y/N’s voice rang in Dean’s ear. He could hear the hesitation in her voice at meeting up with them again. 

“Y/N, we really need fresh eyes on this. I mean, all we got is one word out of one of the witnesses, an elderly Asian man,” Dean turned his back on Sam and bit his lip. “I’m not sure what it means or how to even say it, the guy spelled it out in Chinese,” he lied through his teeth. 

“I mean, my Chinese isn’t the best,” he heard her sigh. “You know you can send me the picture of the word and I can have an expert look it up for you if you can’t find one.”

God, she was being difficult. 

“Y/N,” Dean practically whined, “Sam and I could really use your help here. You helped us out with Ladon, you were quick on your feet,” Dean pleaded. “We could really use you. I mean, what better team could you have to hunt an unknown Chinese monster than the Winchesters and the Human Encyclopedia, Y/N Y/L/N, huh?” 

“Dean,” he heard her all but whimper. “Fine,” she gave in, “give me your location, but so help me, if this is information you could have just given me over the phone I will kick you in your balls.”

“Come on,” Dean chuckled, “you know you’re dying to get to know the real me, I can tell. Besides, who says we can’t have a fun little adventure figuring this thing out? You can write about it in your journal for future generations to find.” 

“I’d prefer it if this ended up as artifacts of things we never have to do anymore,” she grumbled. “Hunting is not something I would wish on even my worst enemy.” 

Dean let out a low whistle. “You have a heart of gold, sweetheart,” he licked his lips. “Sam and I are in LA. Seems this thing decided to hit up Chinatown,” Dean let out a soft chuckle. “You know they have great food here, not to mention all the iconic places.” 

“Are you asking me to be there for a hunt or to treat me like a tourist?” she asked. 

Dean heard when she stopped packing her things to go join them. 

“The hunt, of course!” Dean scoffed in mock offense, “After we take this thing down we can just kick back a bit and enjoy the scenery, you, Sam, and me,” he croaked out pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh,” she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, I guess hanging out with friends once this hunt is successful sounds fun.”

Dean could hear the hesitation in her voice but stifled the groan at the fact that he had to include Sam in their outing. He turned to glance at Sam and waved his arms while his brother mouthed what? at him and shook his head. Dean put his finger to his lips, signaling Sam to stay quiet as he continued his conversation with Y/N. He gave her their current location with the hope that they would see her tomorrow since it was already past 2 am. Knowing that Y/N was coming made Dean a bit more relaxed. 

“Come on,” he sighed before shedding his jacket, button-up shirt, and t-shirt to get ready for bed. “We should get some shut-eye before Y/N gets here tomorrow. Maybe we can talk to some more people and see if we can figure some things out on our own.” 

“Dean,” Sam sighed, “why did you ask her to come? We could have—” 

“You saw how she helped us with the Greek monster case,” Dean reminded him. “She’s a valuable asset and she can help us in a tight pinch! She helped your ass when the nymphs got a hold of you.” 

“True,” Sam smiled, “but then that would mean they liked me more than you. Night, jerk.” 

Dean scoffed. “They didn’t like you more than me, they saw me and knew they couldn’t entrap me,” Dean muttered. “Night, bitch.” 

Later that same day, after Dean and Sam got at least four hours of good rest, the brothers continued with their investigation. So far, Sam had been able to acquire a book on Mogwai, and unfortunately for Sam, it was all in Chinese. 

“Good thing Y/N’s on her way, right?” Dean smiled at Sam, who seemed to have a scowl on his face. “What?” 

“Dean,” Sam turned to face his brother. “What are we going to do once she gets here? I mean, we know the name of the damn thing. I can find a professor and you can call Y/N and tell her not to come.” 

“Not to come? Sam, we need her,” Dean said as he raised an eyebrow. “She could be an extra set of eyes.” 

“Why do you want her here so bad?” Sam asked, crossing his arms. 

“She’s a good hunter, and she helped us out the last time we went up against something we didn’t know about. I mean, do you know what a Mogwai is?” 

“No,” Sam ran his fingers through his hair, “but it’s not that hard to figure out. I mean, I can research!” 

“Awwwww,” Dean mocked, “are you jealous that I’m calling H.E. for help?” 

“H.E.?” Sam asked. 

“Short for ‘“Hunter Encyclopedia,” Dean shrugged. “I mean, you’re still going to do the thing you love, but she’s coming in as a fresh pair of eyes. Besides, we know she travels all over the world, so why not have her help us out?” 

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean. “You’re right, she can help us out.” 

“Knew you’d see it my way,” Dean leaned over and gave his brother a playful punch on the shoulder. “Let’s head back to the motel with the book and grab some food. I’m starving.” 

Sam stayed silent as they made their way back, but as they got closer, he noticed the familiar car. With a smirk, he slapped Dean on his chest and pointed to the compact 2005 Honda Civic. Dean rolled his eyes at the car. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, not in the slightest, it was just something he never thought a hunter would ever drive, let alone someone like Y/N. He would have pegged her for a convertible girl, a nice Mustang in her favorite color. Dean reached under his seat and pulled out a small package, ignoring  Sam’s call as he made his way towards the grey Civic.

Dean adjusted his jacket and knocked on the window watching as Y/N rolled it down. “Gotta say, H.E., I never pegged you as one to drive a Japanese sardine can,” he chuckled softly. “How about I take you out to a car lot after we gank whatever this is and get you a real car?” 

“Compared to your very sexy car,” Y/N smiled, “I don’t have to stop every few miles to gas up. Are you going to let me get out or keep leaning on my door all day?” 

Dean jumped back slightly and blushed in embarrassment, the package he had for her behind his back. “Sorry,” he waited for her to close the window and climb out of the car. “Gotta say, I didn’t really expect you to get here until tomorrow. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed as she turned around to flip her chair forward to reach for her bag, missing the way Dean tilted his head as he checked out her ass. “I sorta drove as fast as I could to get here, kinda stayed up all night.” 

“Shit, Y/N,” Dean cursed as he reached for her bag. “You can stay with us in our room. You should take a nap.” 

Y/N shook her head stifling a soft yawn. “This is nothing. I’ve done all-nighters before, and you said it was urgent.” 

Dean kicked himself mentally for doing this. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he should have just told her what they had found and sent her pictures of the text. 

“Were you on a hunt?” Dean asked curiously. 

“More like hunting for more artifacts,” Y/N sighed. “Got a tip on some more resources and books on some ancient things. I do have a trip to Turkey planned in the next couple of months. I have a contact who says he got some information on a different kind of Djinn, a real-life Genie. They’re not the ones we encounter here, but they seem more like a dying breed than anything else.” 

“So they actually grant wishes?” Dean asked as he led her to their room. “Because I can say I was captured by𑁋” 

“Djinn, yeah, I heard. How was that? I mean, I know they put you in an induced dream state that reflects your innermost desires,” she started to ramble, “but I know other Djinns induce fear and panic or just give you a recurring nightmare.” 

“You could say that,” Dean sighed as he placed her bag on his bed. “You can use my bed, I’ll take the couch.” 

“What? No, I can take the couch. I don’t want to take your bed away𑁋” 

“You’re not, I promise.” Dean held up his hand and walked over to the small table, placing the package on top of it. “You go ahead and nap, Sam and I will order food and show you what we found.” 

Y/N nodded reluctantly and let Dean help her into his bed. Something about the way the huntress curled up onto the pillow had Dean yearning to caress her cheek, but he thought better of it. They were just starting to become friends, he didn’t want her to think that she was a conquest. Then again, he wouldn’t mind if he was able to steal a few kisses from her, or more. Dean was amazed at how fast she fell asleep. 

Dean and Sam ordered Chinese food from a local place close by, making sure to save some for Y/N for when she woke up. It didn’t take long for the aroma of food to rouse the sleeping huntress. 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean joked. “Sleep okay?” 

Y/N simply nodded as she let out a small groan and stretched. Dean couldn’t help but bite his lower lip at how adorable she looked, her hair a mess, and her shirt slightly askew. With one last stretch and a roll of her neck and shoulders, Y/N got up from the bed and made her way towards the table where Dean helped her to her seat. He offered her a container of food, which she happily accepted while grabbing a pair of chopsticks to use. 

Sam and Dean seemed to have a silent conversation as she ate. She could feel the tension building between the brothers. She had read countless times how the brothers seemed to be able to have a telepathic conversation. She could tell it was from years of having to take care of each other. Y/N, on the other hand, never had siblings. She’d always been alone, having to fend for herself. Her father didn’t get into hunting later as John Winchester did, he was bred for it. Her mother was killed by a shifter pretending to be him, which led him on a crusade to end all the shifters he could. 

Her father every now and then remembered he had a daughter who needed him. Not to say he didn’t have his moments, but Y/N learned to be compliant and become a good soldier. The way he spoke of her mother and the heartbreak he endured caused her to turn to books and lore for solace. It also helped keep her father alive when she found information that he could use to his advantage. 

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of food, Y/N put down the container and took a sip of the beer Dean had placed in front of her. “So, what have you got so far in terms of information?” she asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, you guys are having trouble identifying the thing right? Are there any characteristics that you can tell me? Things that this thing might do that seem like a habit?” 

 “Oh, it’s called a Mogwai,” Sam said before his smile fell and he looked over at Dean who was ready to murder him. 

“Really?” Y/N turned to look at Dean and raised her eyebrow at him. “How did you figure it out?” 

“Well, H.E., you see,” Dean let out a small nervous chuckle, “we were coming back from talking to more people and found someone who could translate the word we got,” he let out beautifully, mentally patting himself in the back for being so smooth. “I mean, I was going to call you when we got back but then, well𑁋” he broke off and motioned to the bed and smiled. 

“Right,” Y/N gave him a suspicious glare and nodded while clicking her tongue, “ you know it’s a thing called a Mogwai, so what does it do?” 

“We don’t know,” Sam spoke up. “So far we’ve come across a shit ton of mischievous encounters and accidents that don’t seem normal.”  

“Okay,” Y/N turned to Sam and smiled, “did you guys find anything useful on your second go-around with witnesses?” 

“We found a book,” Sam answered, getting up from his chair and walking over to the bag on his bed and procuring the book. “We can’t really read it because it’s all in Chinese.” 

“You know,” Y/N said as she turned to Dean, “you owe me big time for getting me out here. You know you guys are more than capable of handling this thing on your own.”

“Y/N, come on!” Dean whined. “You know as well as I do that if it wasn’t for your sharp senses Sam would be under the influence of nymphs and Ladon would have made me his dinner if I went to attack him head-on.” 

“Dean𑁋” 

“Y/N, what’s so wrong with you giving us a bit of extra hunter power, huh?” Dean asked, giving her a slightly pleading look.

Y/N tilted her head at Dean before shifting her attention to Sam and giving him a silent look. When Sam shrugged she sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed at her temples. When she opened her eyes she gave a nod and stood from her seat, grabbing the container and chopsticks. Dean watched as she paced at the foot of the two beds, shoveling the food into her mouth. Her face was pensive,  different from when they had to hunt Ladon. 

“Fine,” she let out, “I will help you out.” She pointed to Dean before speaking again. “The only reason why I am helping you is that for some reason, some of these monsters from outside the States seem to be coming here, and since I have been traveling quite a bit recently, I can be useful in getting things straightened out.” 

Dean happily slapped the table and let out a small cheer. “Yes! Thank you! See, you hunting with us, we are going to make an awesome team!”  

“Winchester,” Y/N shook her head and placed her now empty container in the trash before turning to the green-eyed hunter. “You are not to call me for Shifters, Vamps, Rugarus, Werewolves, Djinns, Vetala, Leviathan, or any other supernatural creature that I know you know how to gank.” 

By the end of her list, Y/N had walked over to him, poking his chest with every creature she named. Dean couldn’t help but swallow thickly as he gazed into her eyes. There was something there, he could see it, but he wasn’t sure what it was. When she backed away, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He continued to observe her as she went to her bag and began ruffling through it. Y/N had taken out her scanner, a portable printer, her laptop, and her battered up, almost full journal. 

“Okay, do you have anything that I may need to scan to try to run it through my translator app on my laptop?” She asked looking at Sam. “I can’t guarantee success, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam snapped out of his trance having watched her handle his brother. “A guy gave us this book; he said it would tell us what we needed to know about the Mogwai.” 

“You know,” Dean let out trying to join the conversation, “that damn name sounds familiar to me.” 

“What? Mogwai?” Y/N let out a scoff. “I can’t believe you don’t recognize it. It’s what the fluffy gremlin was named in the movie Gremlins.” 

“Holy shit! That’s it!” Dean clapped his hands. “So is it anything like the movie? I mean, what, uh𑁋no getting it wet or feeding it after midnight right?”

“Not everything is like the movie genius,” Y/N almost sneered before taking a deep breath. “Look, it might be the same thing, there could be some truth to it, but who knows.” 

Dean was taken a bit aback at her tone and licked his lips, bowing his head. “So what do you need?” 

“Why?” Y/N asked him as she looked up from her laptop. “From you? Nothing, Sam and I’ve got it.” 

“Don’t do this again, Y/N,” Dean groaned. “I can help.” 

“Can you read Cantonese?” She asked, leaning back in her chair and raising an eyebrow at him. 

“No, but Sam can’t either,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, but Sam knows his way around a good computer program,” Y/N shot back trying to get back to setting up her program. 

“Hey,” Dean slammed his hand on the table making her jump, “I’ll have you know I was shown how to hack and how to look through back doors by one of the best hackers I knew. His name was Frank, and he helped us stay low when the Leviathans were after us.” 

“I heard about that,” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to be helpful, “but this isn’t hacking. If you want to help, do you think once the pages are printed and translated you can start reading?” 

“I𑁋yeah, I can do that! I mean, I can read,” Dean let out before groaning in embarrassment. 

Y/N reached over and patted his cheek. “I know you can, big guy, you must be so proud.” 

Dean frowned and shot Sam an angry glare when he let out a laugh before coughing to try and hide it. Dean watched as Y/N put Sam to work scanning the pages of the book and waiting for the translated pages to pop up. 

“Okay, I’m not going to waste what little paper I have. Once I see the word, I’ll start printing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes. 

It took an hour before Dean heard the printer come to life and start printing. Once the page was done, Y/N reached over and held it out to Dean. 

“It won’t bite,” she let out, “just don’t expect me to keep handing you the pages. I need to do my own reading to make sure I’m giving you the right pages.” 

Dean nodded as he took the page and began reading. For the most part, it gave a history of the different Chinese legends. He smiled when he read the next paragraph. 

“Looks like there was some truth to how the movie went,” he said. “Listen to this: ‘The Mogwai is a demon that reproduces during the rainy season but is careful not to reproduce when it rains as to not bring good fortune. It likes to cause mischief and self-destruction upon any unsuspecting humans they find as their prey.’”

“Okay, so the whole thing about getting wet is because they don’t want to bring good luck while they screw?” Y/N said as she nodded. “Okay, anything on where they might hang out?” 

“Sounds like it’s in every monster’s favorite place to hide,” Dean said with a smile, “any place dark and dank.”

“We’re in LA,” Y/N scoffed, “might as well say the whole city is its playground.”

“Well, let’s not waste time,” Dean said grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go and find it in Chinatown,” he suggested. “I mean, it’s where everything has been going wrong.” 

The trio had left the motel room heading right back to Chinatown for their search. It took another few hours before they found the demon: a woman with red eyes and sharp teeth, her ears pointy and her fingers long. Y/N and Dean both used the idea that fire could kill it, much like the gremlins in the movie. Once it was over, Dean pulled Sam aside and cleared his throat. 

“Okay, you are going to go back to the motel room and Y/N and I are going to stay out and hang out,” Dean said to Sam, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.   

“What? Why?” Sam asked, tilting his head in confusion, “I want to hang out with Y/N too!” 

“You two will have plenty of time to talk later,” Dean insisted, “so just tell her you’re not feeling too hot after I suggest we go out and explore the city.” 

“You want me to lie to her?” Sam said in disbelief. “You know she could have helped us over the phone and you dragged her here for what? Because you want her to not have this ‘man whore’ image of you?”

“Tell ‘er you’ve got a tummy ache,” Dean suggested giving his brother a pleading look.  

“A tummy ache, Dean? I’m not saying that.” Sam gave his brother his best bitchface.  

Dean ran a hand across his face before putting both hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Then tell her you’ve got intestinal distress, something, man! Tell her you can’t go!” He gave Sam a pleading look. “Please? Sam come on, let me just have alone time with her. If I’m going to have a chance to show her that I’m more than just a ruggedly handsome face, I need to spend time with her, please.” 

Sam looked at Dean’s face and sighed. His brother clearly had a thing for the huntress that had been given the title Encyclopedia. It was one of the few times Sam had seen Dean desperate to impress a girl. 

“Fine,” he conceded, “but you fucking owe me, big time.” 

“Absolutely!” Dean agreed, “But for now, you need to vamoose!” 

Sam gave Dean a smile shaking his head before turning to Y/N and saying his goodbyes. Dean wasn’t sure what Sammy had said, but he could see Y/N’s face grow with concern. 

“So, since Sammy is going back to rest,” Dean offered her a smile, “want to find a good place to hang out, eat some good food and drink?” 

“I appreciate it, but I should head back and pack,” she turned to walk away from him. “Thanks for this, it was fun.” 

Dean ran after her. “Whoa, wait there H.E.,” he said, cutting off her path and putting his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with one drink, an arcade game, or a midnight snack?” 

“I𑁋” Y/N looked into his eyes and could see he really wanted her to stay. “I guess it could give me a chance to know the real you. I mean,” she offered him a small smile, “you did recognize the theme song to Thundercats, so I’m sure we can talk about a few things.” 

“See,” Dean pointed out, “this is the perfect opportunity for us to talk and you can know the real me.” 

The two of them walked down around Chinatown before finding a Korean barbecue spot that was open. The conversation flowed and they talked about their favorite books to read, To Y/N’s surprise,  aside from Vonnegut and Tolstoy, Dean actually had an extensive collection of books. 

“So how come no one knows this side of you?” She asked as she grabbed her chopsticks to pick up a piece of meat that was grilling between them. 

Dean gave a shrug before downing the soju Y/N had served him. “I mean, I never really thought about it. I always tried to make sure Sam was the smart one.  School for me was just a placeholder until I could hunt,” he said, grabbing a piece of meat from the grill. “I tried, don’t get me wrong, but then we’d move again and I’d have to start over and it just wasn’t my thing. I like being the cool guy, you know?” 

“I get that,” she nodded, “but who said you can’t be the cool guy and smart?” 

“You got a point there,” Dean said. “At the same time, I don’t really see myself doing anything else but hunting.” 

“Yeah, I hear you there,” she knocked back her own shot of soju and hissed as the liquid was warm going down her throat. “I mean, I dove into my books because it was all I thought I was good for, that and my dad didn’t want me to end up like my mom. I𑁋” she paused and offered him a smile, “you’re lucky to have Sam, and he’s lucky to have you.” 

“No siblings?” Dean asked and frowned when she shook her head. 

“It sucks I know, but Dad really did try his best. I mean, he wasn’t perfect, but he tried.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the hot burning coals through the metal grate. 

Dean rushed over to her side and pulled her in for a hug. “I know better than anyone about dads and their revenge kicks,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” she echoed and pulled away, “thanks.” 

“So,” Dean decided to change the subject, “play any video games?” 

That threw them into a conversation about arcades and about trying to get as many prizes from the crane machine and learning all the different tricks to win. Y/N was letting go a little more around him, the handsome hunter who she never thought she could ever talk to,  yet here she was swapping stories and having a good time. The conversation turned to hunting and Y/N was laughing at a few of Dean’s stories. 

“So your brother is closing up the grave and he𑁋” she stopped to giggle. 

“He split his pants open, yup,” Dean chuckled. “Needless to say, I took a nice picture of it. I had to, it’s blackmail material.” 

“Of course it is,” Y/N laughed. 

Dean turned to look at her and his heart pounded in his chest. The way she put her whole body into it as she laughed really had him feeling something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about Y/N that had him wanting to spend more time with her. 

“I dare you to kiss me,” he said with a cocky smirk and a wink. “See if any of the stories gave you the right info about how I kiss.”

Y/N let out a snort, turning her face to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks. She blamed the soju for that. When she turned to face Dean, his face was slightly closer to her. Lifting her hand, she playfully pushed it away with a giggle. “You’re such a dork,” she let out shaking her head. “I’m not going to kiss you. Besides, you don’t want to kiss me.” 

“Who says I don’t?” Dean asked as he smirked at her. 

Y/N rolled her eyes before pointing to Dean and saying, “Fred Jones,” then pointed to herself, “Velma Dinkley.” She poured herself another small shot of soju. “We had this discussion before, remember?” 

“Oh, I remember,” Dean chuckled, “but I think you’re wrong.” Dean poured himself some more soju and smiled. “You really know how to kill a guy who’s trying.”

“Trying to what?” Y/N snorted, grabbing another piece of meat from the hot grill before placing some more on it.

“Trying to have a chance of getting a date?” Dean said casually and quickly moved to pat her back when she started coughing. “You okay?” 

Y/N nodded, swatting him away. She must have heard wrong; there was no way that Dean Winchester wanted to go out on a date with her. Her, the nerd of all nerds. The nerd whose head was filled with nothing but brainy information that would turn any guy away. She looked over at Dean, whose green eyes seemed to be awaiting an answer. It was a joke, right? So Y/N did the only thing she could, laugh. 

Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion. She was laughing? What was so funny about what he said? 

“Sorry,” she let out after her laughter subsided, “it just sounded like you were trying to ask me out?” 

“I, um,” Dean gave her an awkward smile, “I was. I mean, is the idea that funny?”

His words sobered her up really quickly. “Oh, oh gosh,” she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.” Putting her hands down, she seemed to be focusing on a spot on the table. “That’s a bad idea.” 

“To go out with me? Why?” Dean asked, “I mean, we’re out right now.” 

“Yeah, as hunting partners, celebrating a hunt that was successful,” she pointed out. “Look, I agreed to get to know you so that I could shed the misconceptions I had about you, but right now, you seem to be trying to prove me right.”

“What?” Dean tilted his head in confusion. “Me asking you out on a date is proving the misconceptions right? How?” 

“Look, you’re a flirt by nature and I can’t fault you for that,” she grabbed a glass full of water and took a huge gulp, “but right now, you flirting with me is,” she took a small pause, “let’s just say that we are not each other’s type.” 

Dean let out a small scoff, shoulder slumping forward. “You’re still thinking that I’m just a playboy, huh?” 

Y/N swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, “I don’t owe you an explanation, that’s how it is sometimes Dean,” she grabbed her wallet from her bag and pulled a few bills from it. 

“Put it away, it’s on me,” Dean said as he placed his hand on hers forcing her to put away her wallet. “Look, I will tone the flirting down if I need to but, I do want to be your friend Y/N,” he looked up at her. 

“Dean,” she found herself staring into his eyes. She couldn’t help but get lost in them. She could swear there was a small glint in his eyes, but she was imagining things. “Friends is all I can do. I’ve been burned before.” 

“You tell me who he is and I can guarantee I can kick his ass,” Dean offered with a smile. 

“That’s sweet, Fred,” she smiled back at him. “All I can say is that he used me for nothing more than my brains and said that my looks were nothing compared to the other huntresses he’s been with.” 

“Yeah, he’s a douche,” Dean huffed. “I can promise you, H.E.𑁋” he paused and snapped his fingers shaking his head, “nope, you called me Fred, only fair I call you Velma,” he declared. “Velma, I can promise you that, and I am totally saying this as a friend, you are beautiful, and if you let me I could be your wingman!”  

“My wingman?” she raised her eyebrow at him. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Why not? I can filter out the assholes from the good guys,” Dean said. “I mean, you’ve read Chuck’s account of me. Tell me, has he ever written me as some of the douches you know?” 

Y/N thought for a moment, and he was right: every story she read, every account she had heard all pointed to Dean being a playboy, but never in any of the stories did she ever hear of Dean treating a woman with disrespect. In fact, in some of her travels, she had encountered girls who had Dean for one night and they all said the same thing: he was a gentleman the whole night and a god in the sheets. 

“I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “I’m not really looking for anything. I mean, you know this life, it’s not very conducive for having a healthy relationship.” 

Dean couldn’t help but nod at that. “Yeah, I know, but doesn’t mean we have to hide and hole ourselves away from having some fun, right?” 

Y/N had to laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess we should head back to the motel. I hope Sam is doing okay. Kind of sad he missed out.” 

“Yeah, he’s got a very weak constitution,” Dean sighed. “Poor guy eats healthy just to keep his body from falling apart, unlike me,” he gave her his best Dean Winchester smoulder. “I’m just stronger and fitter. It’s why the ladies love me.” 

“Can’t argue with you there,” Y/N muttered. 

“Why, Velma,” Dean acted in mock surprise, “are you saying you find me attractive?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and bumped her hip with his. “Shut up, Fred.” 

When they got to the motel, Dean let Y/N change in the bathroom while he changed out in the room. Sam was laying in bed and awoke when they arrived. 

“So, what happened?” Sam asked as he sat up. 

“We talked,” Dean shrugged, “got to understand one another. We’re friends. Oh, and I hope you can still feel that tummy ache in the morning because you do have a weak constitution, Mr. Health Nut,” Dean said as he gave his brother a pat on the shoulder before grabbing an extra blanket and a pillow from Sam’s bed and made his way to the couch. 

“What? Dean, you𑁋” Sam stopped mid-sentence when the door to the bathroom opened and Y/N walked out. 

“Hey Sam, are you still feeling sick?” She asked softly, giving him a warm smile. 

“Had some ginger tea, so I’m feeling slightly better,” he forced out with a thin-lipped smile. 

“We should get some sleep, I have a long drive back home and I’m sure you guys have somewhere to be,” she climbed into the bed and laid down to sleep. 

The next morning as they packed their things, Dean couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N. There was just something about her that Dean just couldn’t put his finger on. Sure she was easy on the eyes, but there was something else, something that kept nagging him about the way she talked badly about herself. Shaking off his thoughts, he finished packing the last of his things and zipped up his bag. 

“So I guess you head to Turkey in a few days, huh?” He asked, walking over towards her once she zipped up her bag. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, “but I’m sure I’ll be able to grab some good information and artifacts to bring back,” she smiled brightly, her voice giving off a hint of excitement. 

“If I wasn’t afraid of flying I’d definitely love to join you,” Dean said. “I mean, it’s the Mediterranean, so I’d love to see if you know how to belly dance,” he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on his chest from her. 

“Can you turn off the charm for two seconds?” She let out a soft giggle.   

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, “I wouldn’t be me if I did.” 

“Touché,” she muttered. “I’ll see you guys around,” Y/N said as she was about to turn to climb into her car when she stopped and turned back to poke a finger to Dean’s chest. “Remember our deal, only monsters that you have never hunted before mister.” 

“I’ll try,” Dean shrugged. “I make no guarantees. I might just want to hang out with you again.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes leaving Dean to chuckle by himself as he watched her climb into her car. Once she had started to pull away from the parking lot, he turned to the Impala and Sam who was leaning against the car waving at Y/N who waved back. 

“So, are you finally going to call her just to talk or will you only call her when you need her help again?” Sam asked, earning him a punch. 

“Baby steps, Sammy,” he sighed, “baby steps.” 

Watching the Honda Civic turn away from the motel, Dean found himself itching to call her again. He already missed the sound of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she was excited about a hunt. He swore to himself that he would call her the next day, even if it was just to check in. After all, the way to build a friendship was to take baby steps. 

HE: Impala

Want to be Tagged? Send me an ASK!

Forever Tags: Status: Open

@crashdevlin​ @waywardbeanie​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @impala-1979​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @malfoysqueen14​ @divadinag​ @deanwanddamons​ @jensengirl83​ @erins-culinary-service​ @anathewierdo​ @superfanficnatural​ @emoryhemsworth​ @janicho88​ @talesmaniac89​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @atc74​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @holylulusworld​ @ellewritesfix05​ @akshi8278​ @donnaintx​ @vicmc624​ @chocolateheart​ @deangirl93​ @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @teresa-67​ @miss-nerd95​ @jawritter​ @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms​ @supernatural-love14​ @foxyjwls007​ 

Hunter Encyclopedia: Status: Open

@rach5ive​

[dumbbitchenergy17]

I’m Sorry (Part 4)

Summary- You are Michael’s vessel as you are Dean’s kid and letting him use you instead of your dad.

Dean x Daughter!Reader

Word count- 3862

Masterlist

It was an abandoned church people were hanging from chains, some crying others passed out from their wounds one man slowly bleeds in a goblet bound to a chair. Footsteps approach Michael healing a cut on the man bleeding Michael takes the goblet that is now full of blood and nods approvingly.

“A little of this… a little of that.” He pours some angel grace in and swirls it as it dissolves, “and," Michael forces the man’s mouth open and pours the blood down his throat. 

“Yes, good boy.” The man begins to choke and gasp before the vessel burns out. 

Michael frowns, “Hmm. Too much ‘that’. How disappointing.” He grabs the corpse and drags him over to a pile. All failed attempts bodies piled up with burned-out eyes and blood pouring from it. Looking over the line of people in chains he spins his knife

“Alright. Who’s next?”

In the bunker, Mary and Bobby look over weapons “Who goes to Duluth in October. Sure Michael didn’t touch down in Orlando?” Bobby says check over a handgun

Mary looks over at him “Jo was pretty specific. Duluth.”

Bobby sighs ”Yeah, well, angels ain’t exactly known for their veracity.” Mary clears her throat and looks behind Bobby, as Cas enters “No offense.” 

Cas nods ”None taken. I tend to agree with you.” Mary clicks the barrel back in handing it over to Sam who sits with his laptop. “Here you go.”

Sam nods scrolling through the police reports “Thanks” Footsteps cause every to look over at who entered and it was Dean holding a beer

“Hey Dean how are you.” Mary greets him everyone walking on eggshells.

“I’m fine do we have anything.” Dean sits across from Sam taking a sip.

“Uh yeah, so I’ve been searching through police reports in Duluth. Cops just turned up a pile of corpses that was dumped near some train tracks just north of town and their eyes were burnt out.” Sam explains tilting the screen toward everyone else.

“So Michael. We should go now.” Sam glanced over at Cas 

“No. This isn’t just Michael we’re talking about.” 

“It’s Y/n,” Dean stated

Sam nodded “Yeah. Cas, you know why you can’t come with us, right?”

Cas looked down upset he couldn’t help “My angelic presence would be sensed by Michael, thereby nullifying your hopes of a sneak attack.”

Sam gave him a pity smile “Yeah, sorry.”

“And, you need me to stay here and babysit Nick and Jack.” Cas frowns putting his hands in his coat.

“It’s not babysitting, Cas,” Dean responded sipping his beer.

Cas look over at Dean and frowned “Only in the sense that they’re not infants, but they both have to be supervised. Jack is lost without his grace, Nick is...he’s just a mess.”

“Well, it-it’s not his fault. Cas, Nick was housing, you know. He-he deserves a shot at rebuilding his life.” Sam defended Nick even though he did house Lucifer. 

“And yet every time I look at him, all I can see is the supreme agent of evil.” Cas retorted but frowns seeing Jack walk in feeling bad talking about a touchy-subject

“You’re talking about my dad again? Look, I understand. Being around Nick...it’s hard for me, too.” Jack says

Mary comes over placing a hand on his shoulder “Uh, Jack, we’re going to need you to sit this mission out. Not a permanent thing.” Jack nods

“I know last time, I sucked when it mattered, and I need to improve. So...that’s what I’m gonna do.” Sam stands up grabbing his gun

“Alright. Okay.” Sam looks over his family and rests on his brother who nods in return

“Let’s move.” When they arrived at the station they were taking into the morgue where multiple people laid on tables.

“These are just some of the victims. More are in the hall, a couple in a storeroom,” The coroner grimaced “we don’t usually see this kind of action in Duluth.”

Mary glanced over the other bodies “The injuries all pretty uniform?” The Coroner nodded handing Mary over a clipboard 

”Yep. The boys upstairs think maybe we’re looking at a spree killer.”

“If they were DOA, you have an ETA on TOD? Any sample DFA?” Bobby questioned, Sam quickly clears his throat, “DNA.”

The woman glanced at him and shook her head. “Uh, frankly we don’t even know the precise cause of death. I mean, there were the neck wounds of course, but there was also considerable internal trauma, so-” her phone goes off “Excuse me.” She gives a smile walking out.

“Yeah. Sure,” Dean nods and looking over at Bobby “DFA.” he smirked

“I’ve been fighting a friggin’ apocalypse for 15 years, my, FBI might be a little rusty.” Bobby countered.

Mary grabbed gloves “Let’s give them a quick once-over, see what they missed.” The brothers and Bobby pulled on gloves as well each going over to a body studying it.

“Angel kills for sure, and not grunts,” Bobby look at the distinctive burned eyes, “We’re talking 5-star smitings.”

“Knife slits in the throat, but it doesn’t appear they bled out.” Dean pointed out leaning the head back pointing to the scar.

“He kept these people alive for a while.” Mary said looking at the others Sam opens the mouth of one of the corpses 

“Maybe these people aren’t people. Looking at a vamp.” He presses against the gums fangs popping out.

“Same here.” Bobby said, “Me too.” Mary added.

“Why milk ‘em if he’s just gonna smite ‘em?” Bobby questioned. Dean glance at Sam “And why is an archangel hunting vampires in the first place?”

Sam went over to the Coroner’s office and knocked on the doorframe “Sorry. Excuse me. Um, did anyone come to claim or identify these bodies?”

The women nodded “Oh, yeah. A young lady. Said she heard about the killings on the morning news, thought she might know one of the victims.”

Dean leaned forward “And?”

She shook her head “She didn’t. Then she disappeared, never even gave us her last name.” Sam glances outside to the parking lot 

“Huh. Do you happen to have surveillance cameras outside?”

Back at the bunker, Jack is seated at the table in the main hall reading when Cas enters. “Looks like about...two centuries of biblical lore. Light reading.”

Jack looked up at the angel ”I’m researching how long it takes archangel grace to replenish.”

Cas sits next to Jack “Well, archangels being exceedingly rare, the data on that is woefully scant.” Jack points at a section “The books say it can take from a month to-”

“A century,” Cas cuts him off, “Yeah. Complicating factor being your human component, which slows the process,” He pauses, “Jack, um...mourning what you’ve lost...it’s wasteful. Might be smarter to focus on what you still have.”

“You don’t understand what I’m going through.” Jack frowned feeling dejected. 

Cas placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder “Yes, I do - a little. At the time of the Great Fall, when angels were banished from heaven, I lost what I thought was everything. I had no grace, I had no wings. I felt hopeless and useless.”

Jack looked up at the man he sees as a father-figure “What did you have left?” 

“Well, uh...well, I had Sam, Dean, and Y/n. But I had something else that was extremely helpful. I had myself. Just the basic me, as, uh...as Dean would say, without all the bells and whistles. You know, Sam and Dean, they weren’t born with their expertise. They’ve been at it since they were children. Failing, winning, developing over the years. And Dean had no idea how to raise a kid and Y/n is one of the smartest, bravest, human I have ever met. Patience, persistence - those are skills too. The past, where you come from, that’s important, but it is not as important as the future and where you’re going.” Cas explained thinking of all the times the brothers and he has gone through hell and back and helping Dean raising a child was one of the greatest accomplishments in his time on earth.

In a hotel, Michael looks at himself in the mirror smoothing out the wrinkles in the suit fixing the buttons. His reflection in the mirror changes from Michael to the Winchester daughter

“Get...Out.” She breathed out angrily.

“I don’t think so.” Michael smiles staring back at the girl in the mirror

“You can’t.” She cried

The archangel grins “Oh, but I can. Because see,” Michael punches the mirror, and Y/n is gone he smirks smoothing out his vessel’s hair,

“I own you. So hang on, and enjoy the ride.”

In a cheap apartment in Duluth, a young woman lies in her bed but is interrupted by pounding on the door.

“Yes?” She calls out.

“Lydia Crawford, this is the FBI. Open up.” Sam call out Lydia looks terrified and tries running for the window while Sam keeps pounding on the door

“Open up!” Sam yells again. Dean breaks down the door and rushes in gun drawn with Sam right behind him, with Mary and Bobby following.

“Hey! Stop!” Dean yelled.

“Get away from me!” She cries trying to put as much distance between her and the Winchesters.

“Don’t move. We know who you are. We know you went to the morgue.” Sam threatened his gun pointed at her.

“We saw your license plate on the security cams and pulled your address. You should’ve ditched the car when you first got turned. Made this way too easy.” Bobby commented Lydia look at the four of them

”You’re not FBI. You’re hunters.”

“That’s right.” Dean nodded and begins to pull out a knife

”I haven’t done anything wrong!” Lydia exclaimed.

“No, vampires never do.” Bobby replied sarcastically

“My nest, we - we fed on animal blood,” Sam paused and lowering his gun and Dean lowered the knife, “We lived quiet lives, until...until she came.” Lydia explained still shaken from the incident.

“She? She who?” Sam asked

Lydia shook her head “I don’t know her name, but...she was strong. She tied all of us up and one by one she’d take blood from us. I couldn’t see what she was doing, exactly, but every time there would be this explosion, and my friends would be dead. When she was coming for me, a couple of the others tried to att- tried to attack her. I was able to get away, but...they didn’t make it.” She started tearing up at the memory.

“Why was she killing you? Did she say?” Sam questioned

“I don’t think she meant to. It-it’s just that...things seemed to go wrong. She wasn’t killing, it was like...it was like she was experimenting.” Lydia said 

“Experimenting? What for?” Dean asked Lydia frowned

“That’s - that’s all I know.”

“Okay,” Bobby nods grabbing his own blade, and advances to Lydia, “Nice chattin’ with ya.”

Lydia presses herself further into the wall holding her hands up ”Wait! Wait! I-I don’t know what she wanted, I-I don’t know who she was, but I do know where she is. If - if you let me go.” Dean and Sam look at each other having a silent conversation.

The door opens in and in walks Michael and a woman.

“Thank you. Oooh, Very elegant. But then, so are you. I didn’t expect you to be interested in this side of the spectrum.” She giggles

Michael chuckled leading her into the room “Yeah… Thanks for showing me around,” He uncorks some wine and pours them both a glass, “I didn’t realize there was so much going on in...where are we again?”

“Duluth.” She answered taking a sip of her wine.

Michael nodded “Of course. Nothing like where I’m from.”

The woman hummed “What’s it like in your hometown?”

“Hmm. Empty. Windswept. Dead bodies lying around.” Michael shrugged taking a sip of his drink. 

She chuckled “You’re so funny. What a nice surprise, meeting you. I bet you were wondering what I was doing, all by myself in that bar tonight.”

Michael smirked “I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you were doing in that bar tonight.”

The woman smiled setting her glass down “Oh, Michael. I am so not that girl.” she walked closer to Michael

“But you really are, aren’t you?” The woman wrapped her arms arounds around her neck

“You’re terrible.” She sighed. His vessel smiled showing off a dazzling smile

“You have no idea.” The woman giggled moving her face closer to the young Winchester and her eyes flash green and her teeth come out ready to bite what should have been an unsuspected victim. Michael grabs her by the throat as his vessel’s eyes glow blue.

“Did you honestly think I didn’t know what you are?” Michael lifts her off the floor choking her as she trashes in his arms, “You think you picked me? I picked you.” Michael throws her across the room and turns over to take a sip of wine and turns back to her still on the floor.

“Now, summon your master.”

Still in Michael’s room he hands a glass to a man seated next to the woman from earlier.

“You first.” The man points to his glass.

“One hundred-year-old cognac. Strong notes of vanilla and apricot,” He takes a sip, “and zero notes of silver.” The man also drinks “I appreciate you accepting my invitation.” Michael crosses one of his knees over the other.

“Yes, well, the ever-tactful Melanie,” he nods over to the woman, “thought a refusal might be unwise. She thinks you’re a god.” 

Both of them chuckle “An archangel with a decent vessel. But close.”

The man nods “And I’m the leader of a werewolf pack. Why on earth would an archangel care about us? About me?”

Michael smiles swirling his drink “I admire you. Eating on the run, surviving, despite being stalked by those venal humans, who think of you as nothing but vermin.”

The man leaned forward “My pack has survived and prospered for centuries, despite the humans.”

“Yes, well, I’m new to town, and from my perspective, the real monsters of this world, the ones that cheat, cover, lay waste to this planet, are the humans. Who made them top dog? Pardon the pun.” Michael explained taking a drink of the cognac.

“God, I suppose.” He questioned

“God who? Between us, Phillipe, God’s on permanent vacation. Gone fishing. Demons and angels don’t seem to be much of a factor here, so, I’m in charge.” Michael smiled leaning back in the couch

“And what do you want from me?” The man we know as Phillipe asks.

“You and your kind, you are who you are. You kill, but not for sport, for trophies - to live. There’s a purity in that. Isn’t it time you had your due?” Michael explained waving his hand towards Phillipe.

Phillipe frowned confused “Our due?”

“There are ways to enhance your - let’s call them ‘talents’.” Michael points out. 

“And these ways are..” Phillipe waves his hand hoping he would explain.

“Fully tested. There were some misfires early, I will admit to that. But I have cracked the code.” Michael explains clapping his hands together.

“And now what? Do you propose we wage a way on the humans, keeping only as many of them alive as we need for slave labor and a steady food supply?” Phillipe laughs “Because I love that world, but believe me, it’s an absurd dream.” 

Michael smirks “Is it? Why be the hunt-'ed’, when you can be the hunt-'er’, hmm?” He smiles watching his plan slowly come together.

After Sam and the others had left with the information on Michael, Lydia rushed around her apartment frantically packing her stuff to leave. The sound of someone appearing and as she turns to grab another handful Michael is sitting at her table.

“Lydia..” Michael singsong. She freezes the items in her hands falling.

“I didn’t!”  Lydia defended

“Of course you did.” He laughed at her attempt to lie. “The hunters,” Michael stands up, “Why do you think I dumped your brothers and sisters in plain sight? Why do you think I let you escape?” He points at her watching her face fall.

“You let me escape?” She whimpered

“Rule number one: you can’t have a trap without bait,” He smirks walking past her, “That brings us to rule number two, which says once the trap has been sprung, you don’t need the bait anymore.” Michael’s eyes glow blue and Lydia scream as she is burned out. Her body hits the ground and Michael turns looking at it before leaving.

Back in the bunker Jack turns the corners of one of the halls with Cas following him

“Jack, what were you thinking. Taking that kind of risk?” Cas scolded him

“It wasn’t a risk.” Jack disagreed

“To-to go out there alone?” Cas sputtered “Jack, you have been on the radar of every angel and demon and power broker in creation since the day you were born and I’m sorry, but you’re not exactly yourself.” Cas followed Jack as they entered the war room and Jack turned around

“Weak and defenseless, you mean.” He stated

“I mean that the possibility of capture is real, yes.” Cas explained

“I heard what you were saying, Cas, about me finding out where I came from. I never knew my mother. I thought the next best thing might be for me to meet the only real family that I have left.” Jack confessed

“That is not-” Cas visibly reins in his frustration, “Well, did it help?” Cas sighed and Jack nodded “And you didn’t tell them who you were, did you?” Cas questioned

“Of course not.” Jack deadpanned “I...wanted to. I wanted to tell them I was their grandson. They thought I actually kinda looked like her?” Cas nods in agreement Jack smiles but it fades as he sits against the steps to the library, “I...couldn’t tell them that she died. They just love her so much. I know I should have.”

”What you did you did from a place of kindness. I suppose there are worse ways to be human than to be kind.” Cas reassured the Nephilim sitting across from him

“Have you heard from Sam and Dean? Did they find Michael?” Jack asked 

“Yeah, they think so.” He nodded

“So they’re going to try to kill him?” Jack stated Cas shook his head

“Uh, no. No, the plan is to subdue him using angel cuffs and spellwork. They have to get Michael out of Y/n.”

“And if he doesn’t leave?” Jack noted

“Then they’ll try to drive him out.” Cas responded.

“And if that doesn’t work?” Jack said getting upset

“Jack-” Cas started

“Cas, Michael has to be stopped.” Jack cuts him off

“I know, and he will be - after Y/n is-” Cas tries to reason with him

“No, Y/n doesn’t matter” shot Jack, “You’re all so focused on trying to save Y/n and I get it, I understand, but - if she can’t be saved, if it comes down to her or Michael - Michael has to be stopped. Caged, or killed-”

“And if that means that Y/n dies too?” Cas shouts

“Then Y/n dies.” Jack snaps, “I know this Michael. I’ve seen what he’s done to an entire world, and so have you. If stopping that from happening here means that Y/n has to die, then…” Jack and Cas both start at each other, “Do you think she’d want it any other way?” Jack stands up and walks away leaving Cas there with a choice.

Back in Duluth Sam, Dean, Mary, and Bobby enter the abandoned church Lydia told them.

“You think vamp-girl was lyin’ about Michael hanging out here?” Bobby asked looking around the place.

“Not sure why she would. I mean she has every reason to want him dead.” Dean states aiming his flashlight over in some dark corners

“She wasn’t lying about the slaughter happening here,” Mary called out her flashlight pointing to a stain on the floor, “whole lot of dried blood on the floor.” 

Sam walked further into the church “Why was he killing them? And what does she mean by ‘experimenting’?” He questioned.

Bobby shrugged “Don’t look like he’s here.” The stained glass windows shatter sending glass flying as werewolves break through them. “Werewolves!” Bobby yells and is then tackled by one.

Sam fires his gun at one coming towards Dean and it has no effect. “Silver bullets aren’t working! Nothing’s working!” He yells. 

Dean punches one of the werewolves “Son of a bitch!” Dean yells and is tackled by another and smashed into a bean. Mary is struggling against another as they both fall to the ground. A werewolves tries to go for Sam but he grabs his machete and decapitates one

“Well, that works.” Bobby yells and is punched by a werewolf. Dean pushes the one of him grabbing his machete and chops one of the heads off, Mary stabs the werewolf with one of her knifes but it has no effect and is shoved to the ground. Mary grab the small hatchet and began to chop at the werewolf before is falls to the ground. Bobby is pushed to the ground and before he is attacked Mary throws the hatchet into the werewolf’s back and Bobby decapitates it. Mary hears growling and turns and sees another werewolf but Dean decapitates it just as Sam kills the last one.

“Is everybody okay? Anyone get bit?” Sam pants out

“No.” Mary replies.

“I’m okay.” Bobby answers all of them grouping up again

“What the hell kind of werewolves were those?” Dean asked wiping the blood of his blade.

“Silver didn’t touch them.” Mary added Sam sighed all of them out of breath from these new monsters. A loud bang causes everyone to look towards the door as it opens revealing Michael, backlit in red light.

“Oh god.” Mary breathes out He slowly walks towards them raising his hand. Which she uses to grab a post and staggers into the light breathing heavily removing her cap as she does.

“Dad. It’s me.” You breathe out your voice shaking. Dean stares back at you tearing up. Dean rushes towards you as you knees give out and helps you sit down. Sam is sitting next to you with Dean in front of you.

“Y/n is it really you?” Dean asked looking over you

“Yeah, it’s really me.” You answer your hands are shaking trying to understand what was going on.

“Are-are you okay?” Sam questioned

“No, I’m not okay!” You yelled putting your face in your hands. Dean placed his hand on your knee making you look up at him.

“But you got Michael to leave.” Dean tried to reassure you that everything was ok.

But you shook your head. “No, I-I don’t...I didn’t.” You stated.

“What?” Bobby questioned looking at the younger Winchester. 

You look at your dad in fear, “He just - he just left.”

Dean squeezed your hands “Why?”

“I don’t know…” You shuddered, “I don’t know.”