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castielcommunism · 2 years

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I’m not sure how to phrase this properly, and I don’t want what I’m about to say to sound completely insane or like I’m making excuses for how violent spn is, but one of the things I struggle with is the level to which the violence in spn should be taken literally - more specifically, the interpersonal violence between the main cast, especially dean v cas and sam v dean, which are the two most common. As in, do we take an instance of them physically attacking one another as literally textual? Did they literally try to kill each other?

And on the surface that sounds like an absurd claim, like those things do quite literally happen on the show and are given a great deal of narrative and visual significance. The plot will grind to a halt to show us this happening (Dean beating up Sam in season 6), or conversely, the plot intentionally leads up to instances of this sort of violence happening (ie the Mark of Cain arc fight between Cas and Dean, or the crypt scene in S8). But I’ve been thinking a lot about this video essay by Jacob Geller, where he talks about the limitations of human language to accurately capture the emotion of specific events or memories. He makes the point that people often exaggerate the things that happen to them when describing the events to other people, usually to give these stories added comedic or dramatic tension. And he argues that storytelling in general is a way of describing the “vibe” of a moment in time, or a common human experience, or even a historical event, but at the expense of literal technical accuracy.

And I think this is true generally, obviously. Fictional stories are far more dramatic and bombastic than real people’s lives. The events that happen in them would very often irrevocably traumatise a person (or straight up kill them), but these characters carry on anyway. Most of the things that happen in books, in shows and movies, and in video games are things people don’t want to happen to them in real life, be they a gunfight or catastrophic familial drama or the loss of a loved one. A lot of the times the things that happen in stories are also impossible in real life, and so exaggeration turns into complete fabrication. But because you are trying to tell a story, emotional consistency, entertainment, and thematic weight are more important that a 100% accurate representation of the thing you’re describing.

So back to spn. The violence in the show is often comically dramatic. You cannot get thrown around and have the shit beaten out of you that frequently and expect to be okay. You cannot go through that amount of trauma and come out the other side a functional human being. You cannot do that many horrible things to your friends and family and expect them to still associate with you. So I think that, beyond adding to the entertainment value of the show (it’s fun to watch people beat the shit out of each other), visually dramatic physical violence is an easy way of communicating tension and conflict to the audience.

And like, that’s a cheap cop-out if that’s the case. There are tons of examples of shows/movies/books/etc creating tension and communicating conflict between characters without resorting to that level of literal “conflict”, but for a cable television show that is meant to be consumed without thinking about it too much, and for one that’s been running as long as spn has, you have to keep reinventing micro-dramas to hook the audience, and the easiest way to show These Guys Have Beef is to make them lash out at each other, even if it’s eye-roll worthy levels of stupid drama, and even if this happening in real life would end in all parties involved never speaking to each other again.

I don’t intend for this post to conclude with “all violence on spn is metaphorical”, because that’s not what I’m arguing. But I think there is a hyper-realistic element to its violence that is not wholly literal. I don’t even think it’s possible to parse, like, okay 40% of it is literally canonical and 60% is metaphorically or symbolically canonical. There’s just a weird grey area it exists in, which makes it hard to situate that violence when trying to unpack and understand these characters. The show itself seems confused about which violence is a literal canonical event and which violence is meant to be dramatic or metaphorical for some larger conflict.

It’s also why I sometimes feel uneasy when people cite the violence on spn as a literal instance of horrible behaviour some character commits, not because I want to deny the reality of the show itself, but because you could not possibly judge these characters as real human beings because they are dramatic caricatures of an ACTUAL human being. They are situated in a narrative that is just as dramatic, ridiculous, and divorced from reality. But by the same token it’s difficult to say that like, oh I dislike the metaphorical “vibes” of this episode or this interaction between cas and dean without grounding it in a literal event that takes place. So I sometimes will agree with a person’s overall argument about a particular event in spn but disagree with the interpretation, taking some events as more literal than metaphorical and vice versa.

Not sure if any of this makes sense lol, but - in short, I think there’s somewhat of a contradiction vis a vis the violence in supernatural, which is meant to be taken simultaneously as both literal and metaphorical. As I said, I think show seems confused about which instance of violence is which, and it often conflates the two, and generally treats them as interchangeable, so it sometimes feels impossible to come to an agreement with people about how to interpret it, even if you’re both operating from the same general understanding and knowledge of the text.

#spn.txt #meta

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trekkiehood · 3 years

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Practically the Same (Part 2) - SPN Fanfic

Title: Practically the Same

Part: [1] 2/6

Fandom: Supernatural

Words: 1.5k

Setting: AU - Modern Setting - No Supernatural

Title Inspiration: “You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person.” - Dean (4x19)

Characters: Dean, Sam, Benny, Bobby, Sonny

Ship: None

Ao3 Link

Summary: Dean’s working two jobs trying to care for Sam’s needs and wants. With John finally gone the Winchester’s can live their life without fear abuse. Until the cycle of abuse continues when the youngest Winchester starts drinking.

Trigger Warnings: Sam-bashing, PTSD, Violence, Alcohol, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse

Authors Note:

Hey guys!

This one introduced a few new characters so I hope you like them!

Enjoy!

---

"What happened to your face?"

Dean didn't answer, sliding a beer across the counter and busying himself drying a glass.

"And your leg."

There was no attempt to hide that Dean was straight up ignoring him.

"Dean."

He still didn't answer.

"Don't make me cause a scene."

Dean still didn't look up, but he shrugged, "It's nothing, Benny."

"Nope, not buying it. And I won't be buying some fool story about a fight, I'd know by your hands."

The glass was placed in its proper place before Dean ran a hand down his face, sighing, then finally turning towards his friend.

"It's nuthin' man. Honest, just got a bit banged up at work."

"Uhuh." Benny rolled his eyes, "and if I call over at the garage they'll tell me that's what happened?"

Dean nodded, "Sent me home and everything." Which was the truth. Half of it at least. That explained the limp. There was no reason to insinuate that the limp and the bruise were two separate things.

There was relative silence between the two as people came and went. It was an hour later when Benny spoke again without looking up. "Is your dad back?"

Dean's hands stopped moving for the first time since he walked in the door. Feeling frozen like a deer in headlights.

"What? No! I told you what happened!"

"And I don't believe you."

A glass was being scrubbed more aggressively than strictly necessary. "That's fine. But don't bother me with your stupid theories."

"So, your dad's not in town."

"No!" He slammed the glass and was lucky the glass didn't shatter under his hand. "I told you he's not here and he's not. Now drop it. I don't want to talk about him."

Benny didn't respond, taking a large mouthful of his beer.

Dean busied himself with work. Anything to keep his hands busy. Anything to keep his mind from replaying Sam's words.

He knew he'd screwed up his future, but at the time he hadn't seen any alternative other than dropping out. Dad was coming and going without rhyme or reason, drinking away any money they may have had. What else was he supposed to do?! And of course he wanted Sam to go! Did Sam really think him that selfish? When had he ever put himself over Sam's needs? Over his wants? He'd just have to try harder. Work harder. Get Sam that money for his books, and the trip, maybe even some new clothes. Goodwill clothes were fine, maybe just not the cheap stuff? Sammy'd never even need to know where they were from. And sure the D.C. trip was expensive plus the eating expenses but it'd be fine if he just picked up as many shifts as he could between now and the money deadline. He still had, what, two weeks? Something like that. He'd figure it out. Maybe get a side job. He had... ways of making money. But he hadn't done it since his dad- that would be his last resort – just see how much he could make without that. He got a good amount from his paychecks on Saturday. Not enough to put much of a dent in the trip bill, not if they wanted to eat this week, but maybe he could use some of that for clothes and make enough for the trip before he got his next payout the following Saturday. And Sam was going to be gone for two weeks after that so he wouldn't need to worry about food or anything-

"Dean!"

His head snapped up, "What?!" he unintentionally matched the volume.

"This gentleman would like a drink." Benny said, his voice a more normal tone as he motioned to the man who had approached the counter.

Dean glanced up at the man who stood with a smirk on his face. "Bad night?" The man asked, raising his eyebrows.

Dean placed the overwashed glass on the counter, offering a sheepish grin. "Somethin' like that."

Once the man had been settled with his drink, Dean attempted to avoid Benny's side of the counter but knew it wouldn't last.

"So, you want to tell me what that's all about?"

"Not really."

"But there is something?"

"Benny, I closed up last night, opened at the garage, got maybe three hours of sleep total the last few days and now it feels like AC/DC is holding drum auditions in my head. I'm sorry if I'm a little off!"

"And I'm sure that headache of yours has nothing to do with the black eye you're sportin'."

"Shut up and drink your beer before I decide to throw you out."

"For what?" he said on a half laugh.

"I'll figure something out." He waved casually before stalking into the back room to find some painkillers.

~SPN~

The call would have woken him up if he had been sleeping. As it was, it was 4am and he had been staring at the ceiling for the last two hours trying to unhear what Sam had insinuated - had straight up said.

He nearly fell off the couch he had been laying on when the phone rang. He fumbled with it before answering it. "Hello?"

"Dean?" The voice on the other end sounded worried.

"Garth? Is everything alright?"

There was a coughing-gagging noise at the other end. "Yeah. I mean no. I mean, I'm sick."

"I can hear that."

"Listen, I really hate to ask, I do but, could you cover my shift at the shop? I was supposed to open at five but I don't think-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine, Garth. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. Feel better and get some rest. Tell the wife I said hi."

Garth thanked him again before hanging up.

This was... good. Very good. He was closing the shop tomorrow as well. Essentially he'd be working the full day. This was... good. He could use the extra work and money. He wasn't sleeping anyway.

~SPN~

"Dean, could I speak to you for a moment."

Dean looked up from where he was stacking the traitorous boxes from the night before. "Yeah one second, Sonny." He called back, lifting the final box in place and fixing it with a glare, daring them to fall again.

Sonny was waiting for him in the doorway of the office. As Dean approached, the older man sat behind his desk.

"What's up?" Dean asked, arms crossed nonchalantly.

"Shut the door for me." Was Sonny's answer.

Dean watched him for a moment, a small bout of fear taking hold, before he turned and shut the door.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"Where's your dad?"

Dean blinked, unsure of what to say. The way Sonny was looking at him made him feel suddenly self conscious. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "He took off over a year ago, you know that."

"And you haven't seen him since?"

"No? We've been living at Bobby's- Sonny what's your point?"

"You'd tell me if he was back."

"I guess, but he's not."

"Because we're not playing this game again. The one where you're here all hours of the day, bruised up and refusing to talk about it."

"Sonny, I'm fine. Dad's not around."

"Where'd you get the bruise? And don't tell me someone didn't hit you, I have eyes."

Of course. Whether Benny actually called in to ask, or whether Sonny was just being... Sonny, Dean couldn't help the bit of annoyance. "I work at a bar. You have to expect the occasional drunk losing his temper at the bartender."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"I don't care if you believe me or not, that's what happened. Can I get back to work now?"

"So why'd you open this morning?"

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his throbbing face. "Garth is sick. I said I'd cover for him. Why is this such a big deal?"

"You opened yesterday."

The snap of irritation finally broke free. "Okay, fine. I need the money, okay? There's some things I have to take care of and I need all the cash I can get. I took this morning because Garth needed me to and I wanted to make an extra few dollars. It has nothing to do with my dad and everything to do with me wanting extra hours. Happy?"

"I don't care who he is to you if I find out that Bobby is like him I won't hesitate-"

"Hey!" He took a step forward, his anger starting to overtake him. "Listen, throw around all the accusations you want but leave him out of this. He hasn't done nothin' wrong and has been nothing but a help to me and Sam. There was a fight at the bar. I stepped in between. I forgot to duck. I'm fine. Sam's doing great. Bobby's amazing as always. Can I get back to work now?"

Sonny watched him for a long moment. "Fine. But I'd try to keep the fight breaking up to a minimum or I'll be asking more questions."

"Whatever." He threw over his shoulder, shutting the door a little harder than strictly necessary.

~TH~

Let me know what you think! I don't know if I'm going to post every day or every other day, we shall see.

I hope you enjoyed that! Next chapter we'll see how some of the people in Dean's life react to his black eye.

If Sam seems mean... I warned you. This is AU so leave how Sam would "really" be out of it and just accept that this is how this story is written.

Oh! I also wanted to say, that if it seems like I'm posting less lately, it's because I've been working on some longer stuff but don't post it until I'm done. I like it better this way because I don't feel super stressed about getting the next part to you guys or like I'm letting people down by not updating or losing my train of thought. Waiting until it's done means less constant content but more completed stories.

Anyway, let me know any thoughts you have!

God bless, Jamie

#SUPERNATURAL FANFIC #MY FANFIC #PRACTICALLY THE SAME #PART 1 #ANTI SAM WINCHESTER #SAM WINCHESTER BASHING #ABUSED DEAN WINCHESTER #ABUSIVE SAM WINCHESTER #PHYSICAL ABUSE #PTSDS #EMOTIONAL ABUSE #VERBAL ABUSE #BENNY LAFITTE #BOBBY SINGER #SONNY SPN

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

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The End: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,062

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual, minor talk of physical abuse but it’s so minor like just a sentence but yeah

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“What really made me say yes?” you asked 2014!Dean as you rode shotgun in his car while Dean rode in 2014!Castiel’s car.

“What?”

“What made me say yes to Amara? I wouldn’t have done it impulsively so why did I say yes? What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

“Don’t bullshit me. You know I know you better than you know yourself. You know I would never say yes to someone like her unless it was the last possible resort. So, what did you do?”

“I pushed you away,” he said after a pause. “After Sam left, I guess the stress was too much for us.”

“You’ve pushed me away before. What changed?” you asked.

2014!Dean shook his head as he refused to talk about the worst night of his life. The night where he laid a hand on you and it wasn’t anything positive. That’s the night 2014!you knew you had lost Dean for good.

“Glad to know that this hasn’t changed,” you sighed.

“What hasn’t?”

“Your ability to force things down because you can’t bear the thought of talking about it. It’s one of the many things I never liked about you.”

“When you go back, force him. Force him to talk about these things because if he sees the fear in your eyes as I did when you looked at me, he’s never going to forgive himself. Make him realize that you’re not going anywhere.”

“I will,” you whispered, glad to know that he wasn’t yelling at you anymore.

2014!Dean, 2014!Castiel, Risa, you, Dean, and some other soldiers walked with rifles ready to use at any given moment. The building in which 2014!Dean claims Lucifer was in stood a few yards away from you. It was a battlefield, and while there are no Croats around, there are sure to be some inside.

“There. Second-floor window. We go in there.”

“You sure about this?” Risa asked.

“They'll never see us coming. Trust me. Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five.”

“Hey, uh, me. Can I talk to you for a sec?” Dean asked his double before taking him to the side. Looking at the group, you thought it was best to follow them and talk with them. “Tell me what's going on.”

“What?”

“I know you. You're lying to these people and to us.”

“Is that so?” 2014!Dean scoffed.

“Yeah. See, I know your lying expressions and Y/N knows them too. I've seen them in the mirror. Now, there's something you're not telling us.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, really? Well, I don't seem to be the only member of your posse with some questions, so, uh, maybe I'll just take my doubts over to them,” Dean said as he baited his future self.

“Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait,” 2014!Dean sighed. “Take a look around you, man. This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?”

“They cleared a path for us. Which means that this is—”

“A trap,” you finished with a sigh.

“Well, then we can't go through the front.”

“Oh, we're not. They are. They're the decoys. You, me and Y/N are going in through the back.”

“You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Castiel, too? You want to use their deaths as a diversion?” you gasped as he looked away shamefully.

“Oh, man, something is broken in you. You're making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends,” Dean judged.

“You're right. You wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually.”

“These people count on you. They trust you.”

“They trust me to kill the devil and to save the world and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.”

“No. Not like this, you're not. I'm not gonna let you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

Before either of you saw it coming, 2014!Dean slugged his past self before grabbing your throat. Your eyes shone blue to fight him, but he puled out a small device and slammed it into the skin on your neck. Electric compulsions throbbed through your body which was enough of a distraction. The blue in your eyes faded until you laid limp against future Dean’s body as he picked you up and dragged you to the back of the house.

“Why are you doing this?” you strained to get out. 2014!you grinned as she gripped your throat tighter as Lucifer pressed his foot harder on 2014!Dean’s neck.

“I told you before. I had great plans and I needed the magic running through your veins.”

“You killed… my dad,” you choked.

“I did,” she grinned evilly. “And I made you watch as I burned your life to hell.”

“I would never let you in,” you gasped as you saw Dean rounded the corner. Lucifer stepped on 2014!Dean’s neck, breaking it and killing him. He froze as he watched 2014!you have you in a death grip and Lucifer kill his future self. Lucifer smirked at the two yous before turning around and smiling at Dean.

“Oh. Hell, Dean. Aren't you a surprise. You've come a long way to see this, haven't you?”

“Well, go ahead. Kill me.”

“Kill you?” he asked as he made a point to look at the corpse of 2014!Dean. “Don't you think that would be a little... redundant? I'm sorry. It must be painful, speaking to me in this—shape. But it had to be your brother. It had to be. Y/N had to be Amara. It all fits nicely in the puzzle of life.”

“Leave him alone,” you gasped as your magic couldn’t overpower 2014!yours.

“You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?”

“I don't know. Maybe deep-fry the planet?”

“Why?” Lucifer asked as he examined a perfectly red rose before turning away. “Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing? Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of God. You ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?”

“Oh, good God, you're not gonna tell me a bedtime story, are you? My stomach's almost out of bile,” Dean rolled his eyes but kept his focus on you.

“Amara let her go. She won’t try anything,” Lucifer smiled. The grip on your throat loosened, and you fell to the ground in a heap of coughs.

“You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything. And then God created,” Lucifer smirks, “you. The little... hairless apes. Then he asked all of us to bow down before you—to love you, more than him. And I said, ‘Father, I can't.’ I said, ‘These human beings are flawed, murderous’. For that, God had Michael cast me into hell. Now, tell me, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially, when I was right? Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing, and how many of you blame me for it.”

“You're not fooling me, you know that? With this sympathy-for-the-devil crap. I know what you are.”

“What am I?”

“You're the same thing, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I've been squashing my whole life. An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground, supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego,” Dean glared. Now that Amara didn’t have you in her death grip, your eyes started to shine blue for the fight you were about to cause, but Amara put her hands on your shoulders to let you know whose powers were more powerful.

“Don’t try anything stupid. I’ll turn you to dust before you could can even breathe,” she whispered.

“I would never say no to you.”

“But you did.”

“You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you, and I won't stop,” Dean threatened loudly which brought your attention back to the two men.

“I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up—here. I win. So, I win.”

“You're wrong.”

“See you in five years, Dean,” Lucifer grinned before thunder and lightning sounded. One moment he and Amara were there, and the next they were gone. Dean rushed to you before Zachariah appeared and brought you back to your own timeline with the touch of two fingers. Gone was the garden with the single red rose and replacing it was the dingy motel room you fell asleep in last night.

“Oh, well, if it isn't the ghost of Christmas screw you,” Dean glared.

“Enough. Dean, enough. You saw it, right? You saw what happens. You're the only person who can prove the devil wrong. Just say yes.”

“Why was I brought along? Moral support?” you groaned at the throbbing sensation in your head.

“You had a role to play, and I needed you to see that Amara is a big joke.”

“Then why was she real?”

“I’m showing you that the person you’re going to say yes to isn’t Amara. Whoever is feeding you lies is going to mean trouble for you.”

“How do we know that this whole thing isn't one of your tricks? Huh? Some angel hocus-pocus?”

“The time for tricks is over. Give yourself to Michael. Say yes, and we can strike before Lucifer gets to Sam. Before billions die,” Zach tried his hardest to convince Dean to say yes.

The eldest Winchester looked into your eyes, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. If this little trip of yours taught you anything, it wasn’t to say yes to Michael.

“Nah.”

“'Nah'? You’re telling me you haven't learned your lesson?” Zachariah gasped.

“Oh, I've learned a lesson, alright. Just not the one you wanted to teach.”

“Well, I'll just have to teach it again! Because I got you now, boy, and I'm never letting you—”

The next second you were gone from your motel room and on the side of the road where Castiel stood. As soon as you laid eyes on him, your heart filled with joy since it was your Castiel.

“That's pretty nice timing, Cas.”

“We had an appointment.”

“Don’t ever change,” you said as you hugged the Angel. All he could do is smirk and wait for you to pull away before he could speak again.

“How did Zachariah find you two?”

“Long story. Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses from now on, okay?” Dean asked as he pulled out his cell phone and began dialing a number—but not just any number.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I should have done in the first place.”

“He’s late,” Dean sighed.

“He’s going to show. His big brother wants him back. He’s going to show,” you said as you both heard a rumble of a car. Turning to face the direction of the noise, you saw an older beat-up car drive slowly to you and Dean before parking. The tall Winchester unfolded from the tiny car before slowly approaching you and his brother.

“Sam,” Dean said as he pulled out Ruby’s knife from his jacket pocket. Sam looked at it nervously before Dean turned it around to that the handle was facing the younger brother. “If you're serious and you want back in... you should hang on to this. I'm sure you're rusty.” Sam reluctantly took the knife and a collective sigh traveled between the three people. “Look, man, I'm sorry. I don't know. I'm...whatever I need to be. But I was, uh—wrong.”

“What made you change your mind?” Sam asked as he finally met his brother’s eyes.

“Long story,” you groaned.

“The point is... maybe we are each other's Achilles heel. Maybe they'll find a way to use us three against each other, I don't know. I just know the three of us? We’re all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human.”

“Thank you. Really. Thank you. I won't let you down.”

“Oh, I know it. I mean, you are the second-best hunter on the planet,” Dean smirked.

“So, what do we do now?” Sam asked.

“We make our own future,” you answered for Dean.

“Guess we have no choice.”

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gaywitchtwins · 5 years

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While I don’t want to condone Sam’s violent outburst either, I do, indeed, have some thoughts about it.

This isn’t well thought out meta, this is just me being salty and bitter. Don’t treat this like a serious essay.

I won’t say it was out of character, but it was surprising - which served its purpose, to show just how distressing the situation was to Sam, and an action that’s not typical for him does the job.

That said, I don’t like it as an action at all.

I don’t like it as an action, just as I don’t like the almost countless times Dean has resorted to sudden violence against Sam.

Now, unto the really salty part: people keep talking about Sam’s supposed “anger issues”, and it’s taking a lot for me not to laugh, because if that’s evidence for his anger issues, what’s Dean. Dean is physically violent and has many moments that are emotionally hurtful or manipulative. For ever time Sam takes his anger out physically, there are five times Dean does it.

Yes, Sam is angry, but if we don’t count the times where he was literally not himself (e.g. drugs, possession, spells, literally not having a soul etc.), what is left are largely situations in which he was angry at someone who hurt him, and he does not necessarily become violent, either. In the early seasons, that’s mostly John, or situations that are about John. Sometimes it’s Dean, as with the Gadreel situation, or Lucifer.

But you know what else?

Sam isn’t allowed to be angry. There are many situations in which many people would get angry, but Sam is passive instead. A lot of people have written meta about why, and I want to disregard that for now, because the point is-

- this punch was startling because Sam rarely allows himself this range of emotion, not just anger, but any range of emotion, and that makes it way more startling than it would have been from most other characters, while still not being OOC.

#s14 spoilers #wank for ts-#dean critical-#it's... more implicit but y'know #lb: 14.12 #There's no POINT either I just disagree with almost everything I've seen on my dash so far sorry @ everyone

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orionsangel86 · 7 years

Note

What's your opinion on crazy!cas?

That Crazy!Cas was not crazy.

That he had just had enough and was probably suffering from horrific PTSD after everything that he had been through. That he regressed into a somewhat childlike state to protect himself from his own awful memories, pain and guilt at everything he had done. But he wasn’t crazy.

I think this exchange was wonderful:

CASTIEL: You seem troubled. Of course, that's a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it.

SAM: Okay. Um... right now I'm just wondering about you.

CASTIEL: What about me? You're worried about the burden I lifted from you.

SAM: I think I was done for. Do you see Lucifer?

CASTIEL: I did at first. But that was... It was a projection of yours, I think, sort of an aftertaste. Now I more see... well, everything.

It's funny. I was – I was done for, too. The weight of all my mistakes, all those lives and souls lost, I... I couldn't take it, either. I was… I was lost until I took on your pain. It's strange to think that that helped, but –

SAM: I know you never did anything but try to help. I realize that, Cas, and I'm grateful. We're all grateful. And we're gonna help you get better, okay? No matter what it takes.

CASTIEL: What do you mean, "better"?

Cas was trying to recover from his trauma. He went about it in an odd way, but it was all about avoiding violence and finding peace - whilst running from the things he couldn’t cope with. He was well aware of his surroundings, and the situation, including the seriousness of the situation with the leviathan. He just didn’t want to deal with it because he physically COULDN’T because he was still far too traumatised. Note that he asked Sam what he meant? Cas certainly didn’t think he was crazy at the time or that he needed to get better.

There is a lot of wank about Cas going around at the moment, and people saying that he isn’t the bad ass mother fucker he used to be and how that is making them angry, how he is #notmycas anymore. But I need to point those people to the version of Cas we call “crazy cas” and ask them to really look and assess the situation. Cas had to do awful things in season 6, the war in heaven changed him, made him power hungry, he was manipulated by Crowley and forced to do things he never would have done otherwise based on the situation Raphael put him in. When I see people using season 6 as an example of the version of Cas they miss, I get really fucking sad. Cas hated who he was in that season, and he has spent every season since trying to repent for his actions.

Crazy!Cas is the result of this story. It’s not about Sam’s hallucifer visions. Cas says it himself above, he didn’t see Lucifer after the residual from Sam’s “crazy” had passed. For Cas in that state, it was always about finally seeing the bigger picture, clearing his head and deciding nope, I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be a bad ass mother fucker.

The fighting is what broke Cas. He was terrified of further conflict, and every time even the idea of him getting involved in the fight again in 7x23 came up he would change the topic to something seemingly crazy, like wanting a cat or playing twister. He wasn’t crazy. He was playing crazy. He had no confidence in himself, or belief in himself, and that was what really held him back, but it was due to his trauma, his PTSD that caused the regression.

I loved Crazy!Cas so much because of just how important it was for Cas’s eventual recovery. You’ll note that when duty did call, he stepped up, he helped Dean to find Dick Roman, and he resorted back to violence when Dean’s life was in danger. Because even when he desperately wants to avoid violence, he will still risk his life for Dean. It fucking hurts but its the truth. After the talk with Dean by the Impala, Cas no longer appears crazy. He decides to go with Dean. Because Dean “would rather have [him] cursed or not.” and it was enough to get Cas to join the fight. But that doesn’t mean it was a good thing at all, and the following season explored how Cas’s devotion to Dean was used against him with horrific consequences, but that’s a topic for another day.

Look it isn’t surprising that so many people in fandom have latched on to this idea that Cas is obsessed with bees, and flowers, and nice natural things. It all comes from THIS version of Cas, because this was Cas’s regressed state. It was him ignoring duty, and obligation to heaven or the Winchesters, and just being. It wasn’t great for his mental health as it was all about running away, but these are things that Cas actively chose for himself. He wasn’t crazy, he just wanted some damn peace for once.

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spn67-sister · 7 years

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I’m So Screwed

One Shot

Characters: Winchester sister, Dean, Sam, Principal (my own character) and mentions of John.

Prompt/ Summary: Requested by @zeusmyster : Okaaaaay, as you need help with ideas i got something for you. You totally don't have to use this by the way. So how about a sister Winchester reader (obviously) who is in secondary school so is like 15/16 and the boys have to come in to speak to the head teacher because the reader got into a fight or something for self-defense but Dean won't let her explain. She starts shouting at Dean and the teacher and runs out then Sam finds her and all's made up. Just an idea to help if you needed it

Authors Note: thank you so much for the idea! I loved writing this and I really hope you enjoyed reading this and I also hope it is how you wanted it to be! I hope you have a wonderful day, thanks again for the request!

If anyone wants a request, the link is in my bio!

Warnings: language, fluff

Word count: 1498

------------

I anxiously sat in the principal’s office waiting for Dean to get to the school while praying that my dad wouldn’t show up instead. It wasn’t my fault, the bitch was asking for it. Of course, the principal immediately assumes I was the problem because I’m the new kid.

This fucking sucks.

I am currently sitting in the office, with my principal looking at me disapprovingly. You could hear a pin drop in this office. He hasn’t said a word to me other than, “sit down and be quite. We will wait for your brother or dad. I don’t know who we were able to get to come.” So I continued to sit there silently, thinking of what happened and what was going to happen. Shit, there doesn’t seem to be a silver lining with this today.

She deserved to get the shit beaten out of her. I seriously was the victim for once in my life. I didn’t go picking for a fight, that bitch did. She just didn’t know that I am the wrong girl to mess around with. One, because I am strong as hell from years of hunting. Two, I’m not afraid of stupid ass girls or monsters. Three, I had two older brothers who made me tough, out of love of course.

There is one thing I am afraid of, and that’s disappointing my brothers. I look up to them. Dean is the brave one, and only does things to benefit his family even when it screws over the entire world. I admire him for that. Sam is the caring one, who would go out of his way to make sure I am alright. He is also freakishly smart which we bond over, because I’m not stupid like some bitches think I am.

I would just die to think that my brothers where upset with me. I love them to pieces. I want to be exactly like them when I am older, and hate to see the look Dean gives me when he knows I screwed up. I despise to see Sam give me the ‘I know you’re better than that’ glance. I just kills me.

I have to say, I would rather have Sam and Dean be disappointed with me, that my dad John Winchester. Holy shit does he scare me sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy, but when he gets pissed… let’s just say the whole motel knows when John Winchester is pissed. That is why I am praying to god that he doesn’t walk into the school.

So, in all I don’t want to see Dean, Sam, or dad walk into this office. I heard a knock at the door and held my breath as my principal went up to open the door. He let Dean into the office and I let out my breath slowly. Dean sat down in the chair next to me and gave me a confused look. I just sat there waiting for my principal or Dean to say something.

“So, what happened? Why is Y/n in trouble?” Dean asked.

“Well, she got into a fight with a girl today. Not a verbal, but physical. Apparently, the girl was talking to Y/n, and said something to upset her, and Y/n resorted to violence while…,” he said and I became infuriated.

“What?! She wasn’t just talking to me, she was insulting me and egging me on to punch her! She kept talking about how…”

“Y/n, enough. You will have a chance to tell your side. I need to finish telling mine before you go off,” the principal said and I felt my face go hot. He was on the other girl’s side, and I know it. Dean gave me a glance that said ‘cool it or you will screw yourself over’. The only reason I did is because I could never not do what Dean wanted me to, “As I was saying, Y/n was on top of this girl. Although the girl did throw some punches back, Y/n initiated the fight while also breaking the other girl’s nose. Y/n you may now tell your side of the story,” he said and I felt my skin crawl.

“What else do I need to say? You clearly said it all!” I yell at the principal and Dean didn’t look to surprised.

“Y/n, he is giving you a chance to prove your side… Take it!” Dean said looking at me like I was crazy, but at that point I didn’t care.

“No! I won’t because there is no way that you,” I say while pointing to the principal, “is ever going to believe what I say. You are 100% on the other girl’s side, but you have to do this because it needs to be fair. I do have something to back me up, but you won’t take that into consideration because I am the new girl and that’s how that works. So screw you! Expelled me for all I care, I’m done,” I say as I stormed out with Dean calling after me.

I stomp into the hallway to see Sam and I walk right past him to pissed to even look at him. I was infuriated. I hated this school.

“Y/n! Y/n, what’s happening? What happened?” Sam yelled after me and I only stop when I get outside and I sit on the steps leading up the school.

“He wouldn’t have believed what I had to say. Dean would have, but not that stupid ass principal. The girl was egging me on to punch her. She was making fun of me. I couldn’t have just let her get away, I’m not like that. Whatever I would have told the principal he wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass about because he was on the other girl’s side,” I say and I felt a tear roll down my face.

“Y/n, come here,” Sam said and I leaned against his shoulder, “it’s going to be alright. I promise. Maybe the punishment won’t be that bad, you’ll see…” he said and we sat there until Dean came out, and he sat next to me.

“Well, the bad news is, it was only a suspension. The good news is, you’re not going to this school anymore. I had a bad vibe from that principal and we finished the case, so we get to leave. Mind telling me what happened back there with the girl? I don’t care about lashing out at the principal, hell her fucking deserved to be yelled at. He looked pretty shaken up after you yelled,” Dean said and I laughed.

“The girl made fun of my clothes and called me homeless. She said I was a stupid girl who only made friends with the losers because I am a loser, shit like that. The think that pissed me off is when she brought in my family. She said I bet your entire families are stupid fucking people who don’t deserve to have jobs or a life…stuff like that. It pissed me off, so I beat her up,” I said and Sam and Dean bust out laughing.

“So, I beat her up,” Sam said in my voice so casual it made me start to laugh, “God, sometimes you are hysterical when it comes to things. You just don’t care. I love that about you,” Sam said while Dean nodded in agreement still laughing

. “But, in all seriousness, don’t beat girls up because they insult us, okay? It’s not worth your energy, got that? Promise me no more of that? Even though that was amazing and I applaud you, just no more,” Dean asked.

“Promise. I love you guys, thanks for believing me,” I said as we all stood up and walked to the car.

“No problem kiddo, anytime,” said Dean.

Tag list

@fromheaven2he11 @sisterwinchesterwriter @winchesters-favorite-girl @rosie-winchester @miss-katie-winchester @27bmm @jensen-jarpad @lauren-novak @theimpalaiscrying @mogaruke

If you want to be on or off the tag list, let me know!

#Winchester sister #request #school #bullies #Dean winchester #Sam winchester #winchester #principal #stupid bitch #baby #fighting back #like #tag #repost #love you #you are amazing #thanks so much for just recently getting me to 500 I'm screaming inside

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bambinovak · 7 years

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Trapped - Dean Winchester

summary; part I. demon!dean decides that he doesn’t like dean’s long term girlfriend, y/n, and makes a harsh attempt to get rid of her for good. [080417]

warnings; violence, near death of reader, some swearing, angst season ten spoilers.

words; 3.6k

masterlist

YOU STARED AT the ceiling. You hadn't been able to sleep at all that night and if you'd managed to find the energy amidst your body buzzing with worries, you would've been able to peer at the clock on your bedside and know that you had been staring at the ceiling for three hours now. It was plain, the decoration of the bunker. It was boring. The lampshades were a plain colour too.

You were trying desperately hard to focus on these things as you willed yourself to ignore the growls and shouts from down the hall. Sam had told you to go to bed and get some rest hours ago now and you'd tried. You really had, but it was just no use. Instead, you resorted to staring at the white ceiling above you. The tv in your room was on, the volume all the way up, and playing some random show that you'd never seen before but it didn't conceal the noises.

Another booming growl made you flinch slightly in your cold, empty bed. Dean was back, and you were exhausted. You thought that once you knew where he was and he was contained in the bunker so you and Sam could find a way to bring him back from the edge, that you would be able to finally have one night of rest. Evidently, you were wrong as you drawled out a sigh and sat up, now eyeing the closed door.

"Oh, pull yourself together, (Y/N)," You muttered to yourself, swinging your legs off the side of the bed and standing up. You'd talked to demons before, you reminded yourself bitterly. Hell, you've fought literal Satan before. You could face him.

You forced yourself to jog down the cold hallway, willing any traces of hesitancy or fear to be erased by the time you reached the dungeon and knocked on the door.

"Any closer?" You asked the younger Winchester who turned to face you with a tight smile, your eyes avoiding the ones that called your name and instead focusing on Sam with all your might.

He quickly finished pouring the human blood into the syringe and placed it on the side, "I can't really tell. He seems to be getting more talkative though," He crossed the space between the two of you and stood in front of you, clearly frustrated with the jabs thrown his way but trying not to let it show. You could always tell, however. The Winchester's had been in your life far too long for you to not notice their behaviours. "What are you doing back down here?" Sam's hand clasped your shoulder with care, he too noticing the look on your face as one you try to hide. Fear.

"Can't sleep. Not until..." You trailed off, your hands coming up to rub at your arms. Not until what? You didn't even know.

"Not until what, (Y/N)?" A taunting voice seemingly read your mind and you inhaled sharply, subconsciously holding your breath. You peered over Sam's shoulder finally, your eyes landing on Dean who sat heavily roped to a chair in the middle of a blood red devil's trap. You couldn't bring yourself to say anything, caught in his void stare and cocky smirk.

He noticed and leaned forward in his seat, "Nice of you to rejoin the party. Especially after your little breakdown earlier. Are you feeling better?" His tone was mocking, his bottom lip jutting out as he teased you relentlessly and you had to tear your eyes away from him in order to take a deep, shaky breath and push the sound your own heartbeat thundering in your ears away.

You turned back to Sam who was watching your reactions wearily, understanding how close you were to breaking after dealing with this situation for months on end. "Is this going to fix him?" You asked timidly, hating the way you couldn't deal with this like you dealt with everything else - by putting on a brave face and giving it attitude.

"Well, I think it could work. I read-"

You heard Dean drag out a rowdy groan from where you and Sam stood, slicing Sam's explanation short. Sam rolled his eyes, already anticipating an arrogant response. Dean let out a sneer, "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't want to be fixed?!" His loud, irked words changed your soft demeanour instantly and you couldn't stop the sharp, irritated scoff erupting.

"We know you don't really mean that. But even if you did, you're the one in the devil's trap, so you can run your mouth all you want, Dean. It's not getting you anywhere." You narrowed your eyes down at him from across the tense room, your arms crossed and a part of you finally felt like you again.

The side of his mouth quirked up into a small smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Well, I'm the only one in here, darling."

Your jaw clenched in frustration as your legs carried you towards the table and you snatched the syringe up into your hands without a glimpse of hesitation. You made your way back to Dean, your shoulders back and your eyes cold, showing him that you weren't affected by his taunts. Sam watched without a word, knowing that you needed this after all the hell Dean had been putting you both through recently.

Everything was deadly silent as you glared down at Dean's smirk, his eyes boring into yours as they glistened with a clear hint of mischief. You let out a chuckle at his attempt to intimidate you. It was all fake of course, but as you clicked your tongue irritably and daringly stepped closer, you had to remind yourself that this wasn't Dean. Not the real Dean. Not your Dean.

With that thought, you brought your hand down and haphazardly jabbed the syringe into the visible vein in his neck, your thumb injecting him with human blood, much to his dismay. He inhaled sharply, a series of painful growls and gulps of airs leaving his lips and his body writhing in the chair that he was strapped to. The reaction provoked the widening of your eyes and you breath getting caught in your throat slightly; it was as if the blood was poison to him.

Sam rushed over to you, standing by your side as you stumbled back on your suddenly shaky legs. You felt the guilt slowly creep up on you for causing the man you love pain. Then, Dean's eyes flickered open and the air felt as if it got increasingly thinner in the dark and cold room. Your trembling hands thrust the syringe back into Sam's as you stared back into his onyx black eyes full of rage.

"Oh, you bitch!" He spat, his fury radiating off him in angry waves and you tried not to flinch as he spat at you. "Can you actually believe that I used to love you?" He broke into a fit of mocking laughter as he watched you let out a breath, sardonic joy rushing through his body.

"How pathetic," He added, shooting you a smirk only just before the harsh sound of a slap echoed throughout the dusty room. Dean's head turned to the side at the impact of your hand and his jaw clenched once more, outraged.

You immediately backed away from him, a single tear suddenly falling over the edge and rolling down your cheek but you wiped it away just quick with a quiet sniffle. You couldn't look away as you continued to watch Dean, his jaw flex and then unflex bitterly.

"When I break free, I'm coming for you first." There was a venomous glare in his now dark green eyes. The eyes that once would have never looked at you like that.

"That's enough." Sam spoke up sharply before turning to you, his hand resting on your bicep delicately, as if you would break under his usual, tough, hunter grip. Sam knew that you weren't afraid of demons, or any monsters or supernatural creatures, for that matter. However, he understood that seeing your boyfriend of four years in this state, threatening to kill you was completely different for the both of you. The last time you spoke, he told you he loved you more than anything.

You nodded, your eyes still solely focused on Dean, lips pursed. "Everything's fine. He's all yours." You let out a mutter and finally built the courage to look away, stepping out of Sam's comforting touch and running a shaky hand through your hair as you scurried out of the dungeon and back to your room.

–

The ringing sound of the bunkers alarms deafeningly blaring and the red, vibrant lights flashing around your room snatched you out of your light sleep. You gasped as you shot up, the noise startling you at first. But as you got your senses together, a pit of dread began to form in your stomach and your mouth went dry.

You flung yourself out of bed as Sam swung the door to your bedroom open, his wide eyes landing on you as you stepped closer, "Sam, what's going on?!"

"Dean escaped. The human blood was working. But, he soon became human enough to break out of the devil's trap." The younger boy rushed out, gritting his teeth and physically wincing at his own words, obviously annoyed at himself for not considering that this would happen.

He grabbed your hand in his and quietly pulled you down the hallway behind him, the sound of the consistent alarms covering the noise of your footsteps. You noticed he was taking you to the control room until the alarm came to an abrupt stop, and the lights came back on, illuminating the hallways and making your steps fall short.

"He must've turned the alarm off," Sam muttered, letting out an aggravated sigh.

Then, it dawned on you. The thought hitting you so fast that you didn't need to think about it before you rushed to the door a few strides away and slammed it shut, snatching the keys out of Sam's hand and locking said door with efficiency: the door to the hallway that led to the control room.

"What's the plan?" You asked, a hand coming up to stressfully run through your hair. Your first thought would have been to the weapons room, but you can't physically harm Dean when you need to get him back to you safe and sound. You can't trap him. You can't let him go. Your mind was blank.

"That's not going to hold him," Sam stated but you just looked over at him, your eyes wide as you just gave him a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, was else have you got?" You lowered your voice to match the unnerving silence on the other side.

Sam took in a deep breath of chilled air, taking a step towards the door as he spoke up, trying to get through to him, "Listen to me, Dean, we were getting close. Just let me finish the treatments." Only to be answered by dangerous, eerie nothingness.

You couldn't stop the broken sigh that escaped past your parted lips as you leant your forehead gently against the door. "Dean?" Your voice wavering as you called out the name of whom you loved.

Then, the silence was rapidly severed as a sudden smash through the wooden door. You let out a choked gasp and stumbled back, noticing to your horror that it had been close to your head. Sam instantly pulled you back a little further with a hard grip on your arm. Another smash, wood chips flying everywhere as you tried to cover your eyes. Another. Then another. Soon you came face to face with him through the hole in the door, a hammer gripped tightly in his hand, his knuckles a pale white.

"I like the disease," He spoke firmly, his angered eyes directly on Sam as the hammer kept punching harshly through the wood. A hammer that you didn't even know where he got it from.

"Dean! Stop!" You continued to make a poor attempt to try and shield your face with your arm from the sharp wood that haphazardly flew in yours and Sam's direction.

"Look, I don't want to use this blade on you!" Sam started loudly, holding the demon blade protectively in front of the two of you. "But if you come out here, I won't have a choice!"

The door was smashed to pieces by the time Sam had finished his useless and unheard threat toward his brother. "He's not listening," You cried, tugging at Sam's arm and pulling him down the hallway quickly, your legs taking you off in a random direction in an attempt to flee from Dean.

"We'll have to split up, less chance of making any noise. Meet me at the weapon's room. Go, now." Sam called, already turning away down a hallway. He'd given you the shorter route to the weapons room, always showing the kind of person he is, but that didn't make you feel any better.

"You're kidding me, right?" Your voice was quiet but rushed as you sent a quick glance over your shoulder anxiously before glaring up at Sam, incredulous. "That is such a bad idea, Sam. Come with me." You tried to persuade your best friend, your eyes wide as he sent you a grimace which he transformed into a tight-lipped smile as if to say 'good luck' before turning away from you and jogging further down the hall, in the opposite direction.

"Shit," You breathed out with a flare of panic, standing in the middle of the hallway alone, defenceless and in love. What a great combination, you thought to yourself.

"(Y/N)..." Dean's taunting voice echoed throughout the hall and bounced off the walls, ringing in your ears. You froze momentarily, forcing yourself to breathe when you realised you weren't, before turning on your heel and running as quick as your shaking legs could carry you. The plan of the bunker mapped out in your mind as you took the route to the weapons room.

You reached the end of the hallway, ready to fling open another door and run down another corridor until you reached your destination, but it didn't budge. A string of curse words escaped as you shove at the door before resulting to kicking at it, but to no avail.

"No, no, no, please no," Your kicks become frantic and your mumbling becomes desperate as your hands try and try to open the old, rusty door and ultimately failing. You had sparred with Dean before, and there was no way you could win a fight against him. And that was before, when he loved you and would never intentionally hurt you. You'd get in a few good hits before you were pinned to the ground, his considerable height and weight taking you down easily.

"Fuck!" You slammed your foot into the door one last time before you heard his dreaded voice turn the corner.

"I told you I'd come for you first. And I stick to my word," The taunting smirk written on his lips induced the lodge of your breath as he neared you, the hammer still firmly in his right grip and a set of keys dangling tauntingly from his left. He'd locked you out. He knew you would go to the weapons room and he locked you out. Like rats in a maze.

You looked into his merciless eyes and you couldn't help but freeze on the spot, your body trembling unwillingly. "Dean, please. I know you're in there. Don't do this!" Your pleas seemed to go on deaf ears as he pulled back and then swung the hammer forcefully at you.

Your loud outcry echoed down the hall as you shot down to the floor in an attempt to dodge the head of the hammer, but, not fast enough, as your hair had got caught underneath the cold steel that had now indented the bleak wall behind you; you couldn't help the yelp that you painfully let out as it jerked your head backwards.

Dean's hand then came up threateningly slowly to your throat as he held you backed against the wall; his emotionless eyes glaring down into your own all whilst a mocking leer played on his lips. "Oh, (Y/N). Useless, naive, (Y/N)." He kept a tight grip on your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to look him in the eye as he whispered the words intended to humiliate and hurt you.

His other hand tightened around your throat and you let out a strangled gasp, the immediate deprivation of oxygen leaving you to try and inhale in short, frantic breaths the best that you could, but that was a new strong for Dean. You shoved at his arm with all your strength but his height along with his icy determination proved to be at your disadvantage as he didn't move an inch at your action.

The fear building up inside led to you thrashing around under his iron grip as he spoke dangerously lowly in your ear, "This is great. I wanted to see the fear trapped in your eyes whenever you saw me. I wanted to see you struggle in my tight hold. I wanted to take your breath away just like I used to back when I was human. But it's different, of course. Because you'll end up dead."

The smile graved into his features was menacing and chilling as he gripped increasingly tighter and tighter and tighter, lifting you from the ground. You struggled to keep your tip-toes in contact with the floor but when he noticed, he let out a callous and cruel laugh before lifting you higher. You kept clawing at his fingers to try and let at least the tiniest amount of the snatched air back into your lungs but you knew that you would need that release soon; the instinct to just close your eyes and let death drift you away was slowly seeping in. But you wouldn't; you didn't want to, not yet. It wasn't your time to die, not yet.

It would be excruciating to hold off that reflex of instinct, like your heads exploding from the profound pressure and cut off oxygen supply. You considered the fact that maybe if it was agonizing now, what would it be like later? Would it be hell? Literal hell? Or maybe, you'd be taken to heaven.

However, in the end, you'd choose to be alive over anything. Alive, in a world where your Dean is back and everything's okay.

And so, with ragged, choppy breaths and your chest heaving as your heart thumped tremendously loudly in your ears, you continued to frantically attempt to pry away his fingers from your neck. Soon, when it made no difference, you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter closed with exhaustion, your head lulling to the side as it suddenly felt as if it weighed a million tonnes.

You were trying so desperately to hold onto what little of life you had left. You didn't want what could be your last ever memory to be of your boyfriend who you loved so, so much, murdering you in cold blood. You wanted it to be of you and Dean, together, laying in bed, cuddling, laughing. Or out hunting, saving the world even when the world didn't realise it.

"Look at me!" He let out a deafening roar before harshly jabbing his finger against your windpipe; your eyes flew open alarmingly fast as you choked out.

Then, before you could comprehend anything, Dean was thrown off you. Your legs gave way beneath you as you collapsed to the cold, hard ground. Coughing harshly and rough, you tried to take in as many painful deep breaths along with overwhelming gulps of air as you could whilst your head continued to pound profusely. Your hands flew to your neck, trying to alleviate pain that wouldn't relent as you coughed and coughed.

The bright lights seemed blinding as you peered up, watching Cas come to your rescue and hold Dean in a deadly lock through squinted eyes. His usual baby blue eyes changing to glow a luminous blue as Dean's incessant growls came to an aching halt.

You couldn't stop the dreaded, recent events from playing in an ongoing loop in your mind as you clutched your already bruised and swollen neck with shaky hands, your breaths still short and gasping as the hot, heavy tears rolled down your cheeks, one after the other. You noticed Sam running towards you out the corner of your red, irritated eyes. His worried and rapid words seeming so far away as your head fell onto his chest softly, not realising he had already picked you up and pulled you close to him in his worry. Dark spots danced in your direct eyesight but everything felt numb by the time the hallways started spinning and the lights blurred together in one blinding flash, your usually impeccable vision going blurry.

The distressing and excruciating pain that you had just endured induced your head to hammer against your skull repetitively and you internally begged for it to be over soon; all you wanted was for it to end. The pain, the sadness, the guilt. The only thing you hoped for when you finally awoke was to see your Dean back to being himself.

The eerie and intimidating darkness soon began to fill up your swimming mind and your eyes fluttered closed once more, a strange peace passing through you as your drained body fell limp in Sam's warm arms.

PART II

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supernaturalnardog · 7 years

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On Sam possibly punching Dean in the finale

So Jared mentioned at ahbl8 that he accidentally punched Jensen during training for a scene recently, which means it is very likely that Sam punches Dean in an upcoming episode. It's really eating at me and I can't let it go because I absolutely HATE when the boys fight, and not fighting is pretty much the only thing good thing about their relationship this season so if we lose that too... 😔. I just really can't stand the thought of them fighting right now. And if Sam is angry enough to HIT Dean, he must be seething because it's been seasons since he used physical violence when fighting with Dean. When was the last time? Season 4? Season 5? I can't imagine what would make Sam angry enough to punch Dean at this point. Here are a couple of possible explanations I've come up with for Sam possibly punching Dean: 1. The BMOL get a hold of Sam again and he is hallucinating under the influence of BMOL drugs, he punches a hallucination of Dean and not the real one. 2. Sam punches Dean to knock him out in order to keep him from going after someone or something that's dangerous or so he can go do something dangerous without Dean stopping him. 3. When Sam says he's so angry that he "wants to punch something in the face" in 12x21, Dean offers to allow Sam to punch him and Sam is so angry that he takes Dean up on that offer, but he isn't actually angry at Dean specifically. 4. Sam finds out about the deal Mary made with Azazel and is really angry with Dean for hiding it from him this entire time, and Sam gets angry enough to get physically violent and punch Dean. (I really hope it's not this one because that would mean that Sam and Dean ARE actually fighting). 5. Sam is possessed by Lucifer or Lucifer's baby at the end of the season and punches Dean for that reason (god I hope not). 6. Jared meant to punch someone or something else and punching Jensen was actually a complete accident (lol yeah right this one is just wishful thinking but hey a girl can dream, right?) Idk guys... this whole punching thing is really eating away at me, I just can't stand the thought of Sam and Dean ending the season on bad terms after how brother light the season has already been. If anyone has any other possible explanations for the punch that don't involve an actual fight breaking out between Sam and Dean, please let me add your two cents to this post and help ease my mind! I just don't understand why Sam would get physically violent with Dean after so many seasons of NOT resorting to physical violence. It doesn't make sense to me, and if that's really what happens, Sam must be FUMING.

#spn spilers #supernatural season 12 #Sam punching Dean theories #spn 12x21 #ahbl8

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soy-em · 7 years

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Fic rec Friday...

should maybe become weekend fic recs? Cos I am useless at doing this on time? Oh well, its here now!

J2 non-au

Silk and satin by scriggly

Rating: Nc17

Wordcount: 2.5k

Your hands in his hair leave no love bites that need a bitter alibi, no marks that can only be clawed before a long weekend, because you can't get away with bundling your beautiful boy in a scarf every time you get a little rough on his skin.

If you’re into J2 non-au fic and you haven’t read Scriggly’s stories, stop what you are doing right now and go do so. They are the only stories that I’ve read that explore, in a very short, succinct way, the pain and pressure the boys must be under while hiding their relationship. This fic will make you feel front and centre in their lives and puts you right in Jensen’s headspace. Excellent.

Imprint by masshipgnosis

Rating: R

Wordcount: not given but I think about 20k?

Warnings: mention of child abuse

In a world where love at first sight is a documented scientific phenomenon, and potentially lethal, Jared and Jensen still meet for the first time when they've both been chosen for Supernatural; things just go a little differently after that.

This is non-au in the sense that it follows the idea of the boys meeting for Supernatural and how their instant chemistry started. The author is great at exploring the trope without making the story/world entirely dependent on it - the boys are still very much themselves and this is not a world where this is common. Hollywood is also very much still Hollywood - which is refreshing. No porn but still seriously hot as well!

One easy lesson by LadyJanelly

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 5k

Warnings: bsdm

Jensen learns that sometimes things arent what they look like. Jared exposes his biggest secret. Jeff learns about letting go.

I love this fic. It explores the idea of a bsdm really well, while fitting it into the canon that we know. Set s1.

J2 Au

Everybody knows that’s the way it goes by rose_the_hat

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 4.4k

In which Jensen is butch and Jared is flamboyant

Lovely short au fic with a nice twist at the end :)

Regarding inappropriate conduct between a teaching assistatn and a graduate student By deadlybride

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 22k

Jensen's a little stressed from writing his dissertation, so he agrees to go to a party. His favorite student is also there.

I love the way that both J’s are characterised in this - Jared as the frat boy who’s actually really smart and caring, and Jensen as the stressed, slightly uptight teaching assistant. This fic, as well as being super hot and well written, explores the pitfalls of potentially dating a student and how sometimes, life happens despite our best intentions.

Eyes on the prize by soulmatecest

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 30k

This is not how Jared wanted to start his first semester at college. And definitely not how he expected to end up hooking up with the hot RA who lives right in front of him — the one that Jared likes a little too much and may have been crushing on for several weeks —.

But, as Chad likes to put it: when life gives him lemons, Jared ends up sucking Jensen Ackles’ dick in the laundry room.

Oh my god this is one of my favourite J2 au fics. Shy, blushing Jared and his internal monologue are just too cute! And the author describes his crush on Jensen so well that I half fall in love with this Jensen everytime I read it. And super funny too!

Fundraisers by dragonspell

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 4.4k

Ever since the school went pay-to-play to try and shore up its lackluster budget, the student body has been forced to resort to rather drastic measures: fundraisers. And Jensen Ackles is walking around in a cheerleading skirt and there's no way that Jared can resist that--despite the fact that Jensen supposedly hates him.

Jensen is in a skirt and Jared has a crush on him - what more do you want! Dragonspell is one of my favourite authors and this is one of my favourite stories that she’s written!

Wincest

Mirror Mirror by girlguidejones

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 3k

This is just super hot porn in which Dean loves the bruises Sam leaves on him. Yum.

Sugar rainbows and bad ideas by bloodandcream

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 3.5k

Rolling over to try to pin down the leprechaun, or whatever - that’s seriously way stronger than it looks - Sam whips his head up and sees Dean with a hand out, waving through the shimmery light. It’s like he’s trying to catch the rainbow in his hand, weapons dropped to the grass, and there’s a look of wonder on his face, big eyes and big smile, as he licks his fingers.

“Dean, do Not eat that rainbow!”

Sam has no idea what rainbow dust does to a person, but it’s probably not good.

Again, wonderful porny sex-pollen (sex-glitter?) story!

Stay the distance by lazy_daze

Rating: NC17

Wordcount: 24k

"You know why. I'm not leaving my brother alone out there."

Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.

The brothers have to face up to what happens when their Winchester codependency becomes literal, and the physical, spatial and temporal boundaries of their bond blur the line between familiar and suffocating, comforting and limiting.

This fic does Winchester co-dependency at its best - exploring Dean’s complicated feelings about how reliant Sammy is on him post hell. Lovely and comforting and brilliantly characterised.

Gen

The real thing by ameliacareful

Rating: R

Wordcount: 14k

Warnings: probably slightly more than show levels of violence

Jensen Ackles woke up in a cheap motel in Dean Winchester's place. When Sam Winchester realized who he was, it dawned on Jensen that he was a case. Sam wanted to figure out what happened and get Dean back. Sam wanted to get Dean back and he, Jensen Ackles, was an obstacle and so was his whole reality and Sam would not really care. Sam Winchester would raise the Darkness and burn the universe down to get Dean back.

This is an excellent exploration of what would happen if the boys switched universes. Jensen’s POV allows the author to explore the fact that the Winchesters are basically nuts without it seeming unsympathetic - afterall, who better than Jensen knows why they are the way they are?

#frf #fic recs #j2 fic recs #wincest fic recs #j2 rpf #wincest #fic rec friday #my fic recs

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coltabigail · 7 years

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Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

· No, but she is closest to her younger brother, Mikey and the youngest, Alyssa.

2. What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

· Her relationship with her mother was close, if anything, her saving grace.

3. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

· Her relationship with her father was rocky. Between training and being gone on hunts, she didn’t know what kind of mood he would be in, but she loved him reguardless.

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

· Yes, the death of her family. The only people who know about it is her uncle Charlie, and the Winchesters post-YED.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

· Empty gum wrappers, a multi-tool like a Leatherman, lock-pick set, extra magazines for her pistol, and her pistol.

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

· It’s sporadic, almost prophetic.

7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

· Yes, her family and John’s death. The YED and mentions of Hell.

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

· Yes, she’s a hunter! Her first target was a handmade cutout of a werewolf done by her dad and John.

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

· Definitely. Abigail went from staying at home, protecting the kids to living a nomadic life in motels, differentiating for days to weeks at a time, and hustling pool/poker/darts to earn money (even though she has access to her parent’s money via her uncle).

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

· It doesn’t matter. She goes with whatever feels comfortable to her. During the summer, it’s less, due to crappy air conditioning in the motels, during the winter, it’s more due to crappy heating.

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

· One instance was watching her family die, and the most recent was when the YED possessed John, in turn, hurting her (and her unborn child) severely.

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

· When Sam was possessed by Meg.

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

· No. She sees blood almost on a daily basis.

14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?

· Definitely faces.

15. Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

· Material, because several things she holds very close to her, such as her mother’s jewelry and her father’s car, as well as John’s machete.

16. Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

· Success. She learned from a young age that success came first before happiness, even though her daughter’s happiness is more important than hers.

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

· Abigail’s favorite toy as a child was a stuffed dog her parents had gotten her while they were on a hunt. It’s long been gone, but it holds a special place in her heart.

18. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

· Wisdom, every time.

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

· I think one flaw of hers that she thinks ruins her past relationships is her views on herself. She has very low self-esteem while others around her (Sam and Dean) think otherwise. In past relationships, pre-being with Dean, it has. Several ex-boyfriends wound up cheating on her.

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

· Abigail is very humbling, coming back to her low self-esteem. She sees herself beneath everyone she comes to. She often doesn’t see what Dean or Sam sees in her, often being told by the people she helps on jobs on the way those two looked at her. She’s always surprised by what they say, and as always, has to make herself beneath them.

21. If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

· She’s the first to take the blame if Dean isn’t around. John and her dad taught her well from the young age that if something fucks up, it’s her fault.

22. What does your character like in other people?

· Being a hunter, she sees horrible things on a near daily basis. She admires the naivety and simplicity of life that civilians have; go to work, eat, come home to their family, and start their day over again.

23. What does your character dislike in other people?

· At the same time of her admiration of the naivety and simplicity civilian life is, she dislikes it due to knowing the horrors of being a hunter. She knows what to look for when others don’t.

24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?

· It’s pretty difficult for her to trust someone with the lifestyle she has. When she does, she trusts them completely.

25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

· Very easy. It’s her job to suspect people as monsters and things that go bump in the night. She can pick out a liar like it’s a walk in the park.

26. How does your character behave around children?

· She’s totally different around children during a hunt. Being a mother, momma bear comes out. Rather than being harsh, demanding, and sometimes a total bitch to adults, she’s tender, patient, and understanding. Not to mention protective.

27. How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

· Ready for a knockdown drag-out.

28. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

· In the blink of an eye if someone oversteps their boundaries or if someone/something becomes threatening.

29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

· Abigail wanted to be a professional equestrian or singer. She got a full ride scholarship from Julliard in New York, but declined it due to the family business.

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

· Unexpected gore, like stepping in a pile of guts without noticing it, or putting her hand in a pile of shed skin from a Shapeshifter. She’s a neat freak and germaphobe at times. One thing she can’t stand is a witch.

31. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

· Relaxing with Sam, Dean, and her daughter Megan. It can be anywhere.

32. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

· When there’s potential danger with her daughter around.

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

· She’s pretty self-deprecating, but willing to improve on areas that need it.

34. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

· If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

· Relaxed, humorous, out-going.

36. How does your character behave around people they dislike?

· Standoffish, distant, suspicious.

37. Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

· Defending her honor. She doesn’t care about where she stands with people.

38. Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

· Remove the problem/threat. She’s a hunter and a mother.

39. Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

· She’s been bitten, gouged, stabbed, poked, prodded, beaten, and slashed at by different entities that would borderline animals. She gets mended up and moves on.

40. How does your character treat people in service jobs?

· You respect her, she’ll respect you.

41. Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

· She has to earn it. In her words, you gotta earn it to appreciate it.

42. Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

· Yes, Bobby and John.

43. Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

· Yes, Sam.

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

· It really depends. With Dean, she could say it every day, but she knows how hard it is for him to say it to her, so in turn, it’s said in small quantities. With Sam, it’s a strictly platonic, brother/sister type thing. With Megan, she says it daily, from the time she wakes up till the time she goes to bed.

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

· She hasn’t put much thought into what happens after she dies. It’s more a play it by ear, and she’s come to terms with her lifestyle. It’s dangerous and each day is not promised. So in short, no, she’s not scared of her beliefs.

#not my questions #but my answers #abigail colt #character development #Bad Company #Strike Back #open discussion

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hannah-deserved-better · 6 years

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Bunker Pack ch.7

The drive into Las Vegas was not an easy one for Hannah. They had been surrounded by the endless beauty of the desert. It seemed to stretch on forever and it filled Hannah with wonder. She’d never imagined that Earth could be this beautiful, this serene, and tranquil.

The sun was just coming over the horizon and it’s orange rays split across the sky like thunder, illuminating the grassless expanse below. In a distance, Hannah spotted a lone coyote crossing the desert not far from the road. It darted off for the far away hills as they sped by.

The Earth that Hannah had seen was a far cry from this. It was a desolate waste littered with bodies, the sky an endless cloud of despair. The massive angel spikes jutting from the ground designed to snag falling angels were notably absent.

And then, with little warning, the peaceful landscape was interrupted as they sped into the city. Gradually, but quickly, Hannah was surrounded by people, other cars, and towering buildings. She immediately felt anxious, and though she hadn’t meant to, she uttered a soft gasp as, a few minutes later, they came upon the Las Vegas strip.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked and Hannah glanced at him. His eyes were fixed on the road as the activity outside the car forced him to stay alert, but when he could spare it, he glanced at her with concern.

“Are they all like this?” She asked softly. She tried to steady herself, taking long breaths. “Human cities?”

“I’m afraid so,” he responded, apologetically. “It can be unsettling. Didn’t you experience this in your world?”

Hannah shook her head. “I had little cause to leave heaven until after the apocalypse,” she explained. “Then I was ordered by Raphael to help guard the human camps. It was my first encounter with Earth in thousands of years. Much of the landscape was in ruins by the time I left heaven.”

Castiel was silent, though he continued to dart a glance in her direction from time to time. “I’m sorry, but Gabriel likes to dwell in places like this,” he explained. “We would not be here otherwise.”

Hannah watched him, regarding him for a moment. After her meltdown, they had said little to one another, the drive had been quiet. He’d shown her kindness, understanding, she hadn’t meant to share the horror she’d lived through with him, but he hadn’t tried to press her for more information.

She was thankful for that. She’d been plagued with hauntings of the past ever since she first laid eyes on him back in Maine. He looked like her Castiel, he spoke like him. She felt inundated with mixed emotions that she didn’t know what to make of.

Most angels didn’t become burdened with emotion, most lacked the ability to develop feelings or passions, but Hannah had. From the moment she had first arrived on Earth, her Earth, she had begun to feel them. Gradually, slowly at first, they were easy to ignore. But they’d begun to awaken within her, becoming harder and harder to brush aside. Every time she’d seen an angel abusing a human, it moved her.

It was emotion that had compelled her to finally take action and it was emotion that still drove her. The feelings followed her, stayed with her through her torment. Every moment, every day that she had endured Raphael’s abuse and torture, her emotions came further and further into focus. Hatred, anger, fear, these were things she had honed within her, she had clung to them for so long.

Charlie and her human sisters had taught her how to interpret feelings, how to control them and how to harness them. Hannah had seen what passionate creatures humans were and as her own passions developed, it was Charlie, Jo, and Eileen that helped her make sense of them.

But none of them had prepared her for the possibility of seeing Castiel again. Even if he wasn’t the Castiel she knew, he felt familiar, and it scared her. She’d never gotten over his loss and her guilt over it, and now, here he was. He was the same gentle, kind, compassionate angel she’d known.

“I have emotion,” she announced softly as she eyed the people, cars, buildings around them, feeling trepidation as Castiel slowed the car as traffic slowed to a trickle.

“Tell me what you are feeling,” he responded as he maneuvered through the cars towards the hotels and casinos that made up the Las Vegas strip. “You aren’t planning to jump out of the car, are you?”

“I don’t like this,” she informed him, feeling her breath become increasingly hard to draw in as her heart hammered in her throat. “So closed in… I can’t, Castiel…” she urged him, looking at him pleadingly.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed, looking at her sympathetically. “And trust me.”

She looked at him, wincing from the intense anxiety welling up inside of her, the feeling was almost suffocating. It was a strange sensation, as she didn’t really need to breathe, being an angel, but in this instance, it felt as though she couldn’t get enough oxygen. She gasped, again and again, as a thick fog seemed to envelop her mind.

“Hannah,” Castiel’s calm, yet firm voice cut through the fog, suddenly very audible. “I’ll help you through this. Just do as I instruct you.” He reached with one hand, holding his hand up before her as she tensed.

Hannah hesitated, staring at his hand. She’d had a very strong aversion to physical touch. The pain, the torment, the abuse, the way Raphael and the other angels had used physical touch to hurt her, it left a scar so deep, she couldn’t bare the sensation of having another being touch her skin.

Castiel seemed to be aware of this, as he only held his hand out to her, willing her to make the first move. “You don’t have to,” he said, “but it’ll help calm your feelings.”

Hannah wasn’t sure if she could trust Castiel, but she desperately wanted to. She swallowed, trying to swallow her fears as she finally placed her hand in his. His hand was warm, but unmoving, he allowed her to control the gesture.

“Now close your eyes,” he instructed and she did so, laying her head back in her seat. “Tune out the noises you hear and focus on my voice.”

With effort, Hannah willed her mind to focus on the sound of Castiel’s calm voice, on the feeling of the warmth in his hand. As he spoke, he kept his hand in hers. “We’re almost there,” he said calmly.

It was working. The fog began to ebb away with every word as he continued to give her words of encouragement. This went on for a long while until she hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped.

“Open your eyes,” he said. Hannah focused back into the world around her and found it was quiet. When she opened her eyes, she found they were in a parking structure. It was dark but quiet. She glanced over to see him looking intently at her, his hand still suspended in the air, supporting hers. “Better?” he asked.

Hannah nodded sincerely, slowly taking her hand away as he moved to get out of the car. She felt much calmer as she watched him walk around to her side of the car, and open the door, kneeling down in front of her. “How did you learn to do that?” she asked softly, looking down into his face.

“Sam Winchester,” he said with a small smirk. “He’s had to try a similar technique with Dean many times, before Dean resorts to irrational violence as a means of expressing his emotions. He claims it has saved the destruction of many of their possessions many times.”

Hannah studied Castiel’s deep blue eyes, as he gazed up at hers. “Is this where we will find Gabriel?” she asked softly, vaguely aware of other emotions that she couldn’t quite interpret.

“Yes,” he said. He moved to stand up but frowned. “There will be large crowds,” he explained. “And noises. You will not be able to close your eyes for it.”

Hannah winced, feeling afraid. “Must I?” she asked, pleadingly, dreading the sensations, especially without the protective shell of the car.

He nodded sympathetically. “I’m afraid so,” he said. He held up his hand again. “I know you are frightened of this,” he said. “Whatever they did to you, it’s caused this fear you have. But if you let it go, just once, and trust me, I promise nothing will hurt you.”

Hannah hesitated. It went against everything she was to trust anyone but her sisters. Especially another angel. But Castiel had helped her so much already. He’d been calm through the turbulence of her emotions, had been understanding, kind, and patient, she felt compelled to give him her trust. If only for the moment. She finally reached forward and grabbed his hand, squeezing tight, as if trying to get used to the feeling of his skin in hers.

He stood up and hoisted her to her feet and the two walked through the parking structure. He led her to the elevator.

He hadn’t been lying when he had warned her of the crowds and the noises. She was instantly assaulted by the sound of the casino around her. Humans everyone, talking, shouting, the sounds of machines, the blasting lights of various colors, all around her brought her anxiety right back.

Sensing her emotion, Castiel squeezed her hand as he led her through the crowds. “Don’t let go,” he insisted as people moved past them, some brushing past her, making her jump.

The managed to make it to the reception area of the hotel and Castiel guided Hannah to the desk. Hannah stayed close to him but pulled out of his hand to grip the smooth, cool wood of the reception desk. As Castiel spoke to the woman behind the counter, Hannah was suddenly aware of a presence. She glanced over and met eye contact with a large, bunky man who stood just a few feet from her. Dressed in a suit, holding a briefcase, he flashed her a suggestive grin.

“First time to Vegas?” he asked as he slimmed back his greying hair. He glanced towards Castiel. “Husband?”

At first Hannah wasn’t sure he was talking to her, but he moved closer to her, which promptly made her tense up. “No,” she said, responding to both questions in a tone that conveyed her disinterest in him.

“Tell me did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he asked with wide grin. “Because you are as pretty as any angel I ever saw.”

Hannah was bewildered by that statement, “yes of course it hurt,” she responded curtly, as if it should have been obvious. At that moment, Castiel turned and saw the situation.

“Come on, Hannah,” he said, grabbing her hand again, before fixing the man with a warning glare. Hannah followed him as he led her away, leaving the man in their wake.

They made the journey up to their hotel room quickly and swiftly and as soon as they were inside, Hannah let out a breath of relief.

“I do’t understand,” Hannah murmured as she sat down on the edge of one of the beds while Castiel moved to the window and glanced down at the view below. He glanced at her and shrugged.

“That is what is called a pick up line,” he explained. “He was trying to impress you with his weak attempts of flattery.”

“He brought up the fall of angels,” she said distastefully. “He couldn’t know what it felt like.”

“He doesn’t,” Castiel pointed out. “Humans have crude ways of speaking to one another, they often rely on innuendos and metaphors to suggest what they want.”

“What did he want with me?” Hannah began to relax and calm in the safety of their hotel room, and after a time, she moved to the window beside Castiel and gazed down at the view below. They were very high and the confusion of cars and people looked like ants in the streets below.

“It is best not to dwell on it,” Castiel pointed out. He was about to say more when there was an abrupt knock on the door. “Stay here,” he instructed as he pulled an angel blade from his belt and approached the door.

Hannah watched uneasily as Castiel cautiously opened the door and peered out into the hallway. After a few seconds, he moved back, opening the door more and Hannah frowned at who was at the other end.

“Gabriel,” Castiel murmured as he let the archangel inside. “We were-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Gabriel glanced at Hannah’s direction and winked, “hey long time no see,” he greeted before turning back to Castiel as the latter closed the door and followed him back into the room.

“How did you know we were looking?” Hannah questioned as Castiel and Gabriel joined her by the window.

“Like I can’t sense a tracking spell,” Gabriel replied, rolling his eyes as he lowered himself down onto one of the beds and made himself comfortable, propping up an elbow to face them. “What can I do you both for?”

Castiel and Hannah exchanged confused glances before Castiel turned to the subject at hand. “We need your help, brother,” he replied. “Heaven is dying. You may be our only hope.”

With that, Castiel sat down and began to explain the extent of their dilemma and the conversation stretched on into the day.

#Supernatural #Hanstiel #Castiel

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trekkiehood · 3 years

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Practically the Same (Part 3) - SPN Fanfic

Title: Practically the Same

Part: [1] [2] 3/6

Fandom: Supernatural

Words: 1.9k

Setting: AU - Modern Setting - No Supernatural

Title Inspiration: “You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person.” - Dean (4x19)

Characters: Dean, Sam, Benny, Bobby, Sonny

Ship: None

Ao3 Link

Trigger Warnings: Sam-bashing, PTSD, Violence, Alcohol, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse

Authors Note:

Hey guys!

Sorry I meant to post this earlier but I had a lot of stuff I had to do.

This is the longest chapter in the story. It deals with some PTSD and a bit about abuse/violence so be aware of that.

Please enjoy!

---

It was nearly ten on Sunday night when Dean heard the back door open. It wasn’t a problem necessarily, but no one was scheduled to work tonight. He finished getting his current customer a drink and before he could go and see who it was, Bobby was behind the counter with him.

“I didn’t know you worked tonight.” Dean said, wiping down the counter to avoid eye contact.

“And I didn’t realize that you were my only employee.”

Dean shrugged, trying to wipe away any of the lingering exhaustion from the overfilled week. “I wanted the hours and everyone else wanted their weekend. Fair trade.” He’d take all the hours he could get. He’d rather work more hours of his solid job to get the money than to have to resort to… other, less pleasant means.

Bobby let out a scoff, “That the reason you haven’t been home all week?”

“Been working. Would barely have been home long enough to get to bed anyway. Easier just to stay in town. Y’know the couch in the back isn’t half bad.”

The older man sighed and Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at his boss, his friend. He knew that Bobby would see it in his eyes. He always did. He really didn’t have the energy for a concerned Bobby right now.

“If this is about what Sam said-”

“It’s not.” Okay well it was but that wasn’t something he was ready to admit. “I would have needed the hours regardless.” Half truth, but not a complete lie.

“How’s your face?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Fine Bobby. It doesn’t even hurt. Already pretty much gone.”Any bravado he may have had collapsed when he looked up too fast, spots filling his vision, causing him to grip the counter to steady himself.

Bobby grabbed his arm, keeping him on his feet. The old man sighed. “Go home, Dean.”

“No one else is here right now,” He pushed away, standing upright, “and there’s no reason for me to not-”

“Dean. Go home. You’ve already made overtime twice this past week. And I know you’ve been putting in extra hours at the shop nearly everyday. So go home.”

“I open tomorrow and-”

“That’s fine. That’s also not for another seven hours. Go home. Go sleep in your bed.I’ll take care of here.”

He felt like a little kid when he whined: “But Bobby-”

“Now, Dean.”

Dean sighed, tossing the rag back on the counter. He ran a hand through his hair as he headed towards the back. He stopped, letting out a breath. “Thanks Bobby.”

He heard the smirk in his voice when he answered, “Sure thing, kid.”

~SPN~

The drive home was a little over half an hour. One of the many reasons Dean preferred to stay in town when closing and openings happened back to back. He’d been staying at the bar the past week because he’d been grabbing up every spare shift he could, causing him to work nearly around the clock between the two jobs. He should have known Bobby would figure it out. Or maybe Benny squealed. Either way, he was pulling into Bobby’s house and about to face Sam for the first time since he’d been accused of ruining his younger brother’s life.

Dean turned his Baby off, leaning his head on the steering wheel. He really was tired. He couldn’t keep going like this for much longer. Bobby was right, he needed sleep.

He pushed himself up and forced himself up the stairs. The door was unlocked and the kitchen light was still on. Not too out of the ordinary. Sam sitting at the kitchen table, a book open in front of him was on par for the course as well. What caused Dean to stop was the beer bottle in his brother’s hand, and empty one beside him to match.

“Sam?” He thought his voice might have shook a little and if anyone asked he’d tell them it was exhaustion not anger. Or fear.

The younger brother looked up and gave Dean an appraising work. “So, you decided to show up.”

“Been working.” He answered, still watching his brother.

Sam snorted, “Sure. You’ve definitely been working at the bar and not partaking in it.” He stole a sip from his own bottle while turning back to his work.

Dean snapped, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Homework.” He answered without looking up.

“Looks to me like you’re drinking.”

“Oh,” Sam rolled his eyes, “You’re one to talk about sobriety Mr ‘works at a bar’.”

“Yes I work at a bar Sam. I work there for Bobby to get money.”

“And you never drink?” Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but the mocking tone in Sam’s voice was really starting to get under Dean’s skin.

“So what if I do? You’re seventeen, I’m twenty-one. Pretty sure there’s a difference.”

“Like you never drank before turning twenty-one.”

“I thought that just because I screwed up my life didn’t mean that you had to too.”

Sam rolled his eyes, making a show of taking another drink. “Wow, that's original.”

“Sam, I don't want you drinking. If Bobby’s here and he gives you a beer, whatever. But not if you’re with me or home alone, do you understand me?”

“Dad wouldn’t have cared.” He muttered under his breath.

Dean froze, feeling a tightness in his chest, “Yeah, well I’m not Dad.”

“Clearly. When Dad was home at least we had money.”

“Take that back.” Dean took a step forward, feeling his heart rate speeding up. “You take that back.”

“No. It’s true.”

“No it’s not! We didn’t have anything when Dad was here! The only things we had were the things I scraped together!”

Sam smirked. “One mention of Dad and you’re ready to throw hands. Funny how you’d never say those things to his face. You never once stood up to him, you tried to keep me from standing up to him. But now that he’s gone? Guess distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder.”

“You know what Dad was like! You egging him on only made it worse. I was trying to keep you safe!”

He rolled his eyes, “Trying to control me you mean.” He went to take another sip from the bottle but Dean snatched it away.

“Sam, you’re drunk. Go to bed, we can deal with this tomorrow.”

“No,” he reached for the bottle, “You’d like to think I’m drunk so you can discredit what I’m sayin’ but it’s really just because you know I’m right.”

“Shut up.”

“Gimme my beer.” Sam grabbed the bottle, yanking it harder than Dean expected. Dean tried to compensate but the result was it flying out of both of their hands and shattering against the wall.

Both boys froze. The corners of Dean’s vision started going black and he slammed his eyes shut against the resounding sound. Too many nights like this. Too many broken beer bottles littering the floor. Too many shatters waking him from sleep so he could make sure that everyone was okay. Waiting for Dad to decide he needed to take his anger out. Debating on if it was better to hide or just let him do it.

“Dean?” The tone matched the hesitant touch to his arm. The world slid back into place accompanied with a loud ringing in his ears.

He gasped, eyes flying open and he shoved Sam’s arm off of him taking a step back. “Don’t touch me.” He snapped. “Don’t-” Sam’s eyes were wide now, the snark and sarcasm were gone. This was Sammy. Not the Sam who had been riding high on self importance and anger.

“Go to bed, Sammy.”

“Dean, man, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Sam.” He interrupted sharply, causing the younger brother’s mouth to slam shut. “Go to bed.”

Sam nodded and giving only one, quick, backwards glance, and ran up the stairs.

Dean didn’t move, silently staring at the shattered glass. Was this why Sam had been acting so irrational? So angry?

He didn’t exactly keep a count on how many bottles were in the fridge at any given moment. It was possible. But Sam wasn’t Dean. And Sam certainly wasn’t Dad. He wouldn’t do that. After all of the lectures he’d given Dean about wasting his life and his potential he wouldn’t… but he had.

Dean started cleaning up the glass with his bare hands. Not the best idea. But the feeling of the sharp edges slicing open his skin calmed him. It reminded him that there was something to feel. It felt right. It would be wrong to not feel pain after everything that had happened. Everything Sam had said. Everything Sam had rightfully said.

Dad was a jerk. He was an alcoholic who didn’t care about his kids. Or he did when he was sober but the second he found a bottle the kids could be dead and he’d only care about not having someone to take his anger out on. Dean remembered before Dad had snapped, before he had watched his mother die. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about. Too bittersweet. Too painful.

Those last couple months with Dad had been bad. Dean had sent Sam to stay with Pastor Jim for the summer. Jim had some summer camp he was helping with and Sam would take any excuse to get out of Sioux Falls and away from their father. With Sam gone it had gotten worse, not better. To the point where people started to notice. Sonny had been the one to get Bobby involved and from there it was a bit of a blurr. He wasn’t really sure when he moved in with Benny or even how long. He just knew that one day his father showed up at Benny’s apartment, told Dean to get his stuff and that they were leaving. He had frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to say and likely would have gone with his dad had Benny not appeared at that moment and threatened to call the cops. That was the last time anyone had seen John Winchester.

Dean looked around the room for Bobby’s broom, having picked up all the pieces that were big enough for him to grab. After cleaning up the glass and the spilled alcohol, he looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time the blood. He stared at it for a moment, almost fascinated by it. Then sighing, he went to the bathroom to clean himself up.

It was past midnight and Dean was on autopilot. His body on repeat from far too many nights of similar tending. He grabbed two ibuprofen and a glass of water, taking it upstairs. Sam’s door was cracked open, but Dean opened it as softly as he could. Sam was asleep, which was a good sign. Hopefully he hadn’t drank too much and wouldn’t get sick. Either way, he was bound to have a hangover. He put down the water and grabbed a piece of notebook paper, scrawling out “GO TO SCHOOL” in all caps before placing it on the nightstand with the two pills on top.

Dean shut the door softly behind him, staring at the wall across the hall. He was so tired. He had two options. He could sleep in the guest room, John’s old room, the room Dean normally slept in, or he could bunk with Sam, something he did quite often. Neither sounded appealing.

He ended up going back downstairs, standing aimlessly in the kitchen before realizing he really wasn’t hungry, and lying down on the couch.

~TH~

So.. Sam... Dean.. yeah...

Thoughts? Thoughts on Sam? On Dean's response?

Next week we'll get more Bobby, Sonny, and Benny.

The rest of the chapters are going to be shorter but hopefully you'll still like them.

Let me know what you think! I thrive on comments.

Much love and God bless, Jamie

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