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#Rowena Gallows
brightbell · 2 years
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DWC May Day 3 2022 - Charity/Greed
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“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From ashes a fire shall be woken, a Light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be the blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.” – Prophet Velen
 Children’s Week – Stormwind City
 Roxxanna carefully boxed up cookies, put new and mended clothes into bags, and wrapped presents. It was Children’s Week, a week when (most of) the citizens of Azeroth and beyond sought to help those less fortunate. Children orphaned by wars or catastrophe or pestilence.
But for Roxxie, it was just another day.
The cottage she shared with her sister was filled with the scents of cookies baking, the sound of scissors sliding through wrapping paper, and Roxxanna’s sister, Rowena, complaining that she wanted “just one more cookie.”
“Don’t be greedy, Nena, these are for the orphans and their matrons,” Roxxie scolded, lightly whacking the back of Rowena’s hand with a wooden spoon. Rowena hissed and pulled her hand away.
“-You- don’t need to be so stingy, Rox,” she grumbled, rubbing the back of her hand. The whack didn’t actually hurt, it was just the principal of it.
“It’s for charity, Rowena. These kids have very little, it’s the least I can do to help make this week special for them.” Rowena, in turn, shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“It’s always about charity, Rox. You’re like, the most generous person I know, to people you don’t know, or barely know. You should be more generous with your own sister.” She smiled winningly, hoping to convince her sister to give her some more cookies. Roxxanna sighed, and shook her head in response.
“I have everything carefully planned out and numbered so that all of the kids get treats, a new outfit, and a new toy. If I keep giving you cookies, they won’t get as many.” She wagged the wooden spoon she was still holding at the other woman, her other hand perched on her hip.
“You sound like mom,” Rowena whined.
“And that’s… a bad thing?” Roxxanna arched a brow at her sister.
“No, but, you’re just such a… such a… goody two shoes! Live a little!” She threw her hands up in defeat, knowing there would be no more cookies for her that day. Roxxanna’s expression softened, a small smile spreading across her face.
“Tell ya what, Nena, when Children’s Week is over, I’ll bake you a big chocolate cake, all for you. How does that sound?” her twin’s face lit up and Rowena nodded.
“That sounds great! You’re the best sister ever!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Roxxanna’s shoulders, hugging her tightly. Roxxanna laughed lightly.
“Don’t tell Phoebe that, she might be offended.” Rowen shrugged.
“Phoebe doesn’t bake like you, Rox,” Rowena muttered in her sister’s ear.
“I mean… You’re not wrong!” Roxxanna exclaimed, turning back to packing the boxes.
@daily-writing-challenge​
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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 7 months
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Blind Stars of Fortune
Blind Stars of Fortune https://ift.tt/5aBoCM3 by heyshalina Sam rubs at the palm of his hand with his thumb, an old gesture Cas has not seen him perform in a long time. “It’s not that I don’t think Dean won’t get better,” Sam says lowly. “I just…if we can’t heal him, will the old Dean ever even come back?” Cas doesn’t know how to answer him, because he’s been battling the same thoughts. Behind them, Dean groans uncomfortably and tries to shift; Sam’s hand reaches out instinctively, his fingers lightly touching Dean’s ankle. “I think,” Cas starts, looking at Sam’s bunched up shoulders and Dean’s empty eyes. “That all we did was not in vain. And that I would take any version of the Winchesters than no version at all.” Words: 23306, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Gallows Pole Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Michael (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Jody Mills, Charlie Bradbury, Claire Novak, Rowena MacLeod Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline Additional Tags: Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean Winchester, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Recovery, Gen or Pre-Slash, selective/trauma induced mutism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s14e09 The Spear (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural) via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/CgIebAp October 09, 2023 at 08:15PM
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ao3feeddestiel · 7 months
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Blind Stars of Fortune
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/OSteMN2 by heyshalina Sam rubs at the palm of his hand with his thumb, an old gesture Cas has not seen him perform in a long time. “It’s not that I don’t think Dean won’t get better,” Sam says lowly. “I just…if we can’t heal him, will the old Dean ever even come back?” Cas doesn’t know how to answer him, because he’s been battling the same thoughts. Behind them, Dean groans uncomfortably and tries to shift; Sam’s hand reaches out instinctively, his fingers lightly touching Dean’s ankle. “I think,” Cas starts, looking at Sam’s bunched up shoulders and Dean’s empty eyes. “That all we did was not in vain. And that I would take any version of the Winchesters than no version at all.” Words: 23306, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Gallows Pole Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Michael (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Jody Mills, Charlie Bradbury, Claire Novak, Rowena MacLeod Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline Additional Tags: Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean Winchester, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Recovery, Gen or Pre-Slash, selective/trauma induced mutism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s14e09 The Spear (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/OSteMN2
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ghastimart · 4 years
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not me posting idv OCs i’ve never talked about publicly before wym
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adhdeancas · 3 years
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Sunset Sound: Gallows Pole
In the midst of the Lawboy shitposting, a Sam-centric chapter to see what he got up to after Dean went to hell. Special thanks to my bro @friedchickenangelwings for keeping me in check forever and always, I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.
Sam sobs. He can’t help it; he can’t do anything else. His big brother’s body is impaled on the post in front of him, the ground is littered with beheaded bodies, and two little boys are crying outside somewhere in the dark. And he can’t stop crying.
“It’s not okay. It’s not!” 
He tries to take back those words that had made his brother leave, but Dean's chest doesn’t shudder back into life, and it won’t. It hangs there, heavy and lifeless, and it always will. Dean is dead. 
And for what?
When Sam’s head starts to pound from the tears, he finally takes breaths to calm himself. Common sense floods back into his head and overtakes his grief, and he pulls Dean’s body off the stupid rusty nail that killed him. He lowers him to the ground and closes his eyes, because he can’t bear to look at his dead stare any longer. 
He doesn’t want to leave the barn. He knows he has to, but he doesn’t want to leave his brother there all alone. That’s what Dean had always been most afraid of: being alone. He stands frozen to the spot for more minutes than he should, trying to reason with his grief. Finally, finally, he wins, and he turns around to see his breath in the air before him. Sam immediately gasps, another desperate sob coming from nowhere, because the night isn’t cold enough for that.
“Dean?” He screams it. “Dean!” It’s gotta be him, Dean’s a ghost, Dean’s here, Dean’s trying to talk to him. “Dean!” 
“No, I’m sorry, Sam.” Kevin Tran flickers to form in front of him, pity and sadness in his eyes. “But Dean’s okay.” 
Sam rubs his eyes. He thinks for a second he’s hallucinating again, that losing Dean for real broke down all the sanity he’d built over the years. “K-Kevin?” Though he didn’t know it was possible, his stomach takes yet another plunge, like a boulder has just been dropped on him. Kevin’s incorporeal form shakes into being the thought once more that he did that, his hands killed Kevin, he’s the reason Kevin is a ghost. He’s in a room with the corpse and untethered soul of two people he loves and two people he watched die.
As if sensing all the ways Sam is shaking apart, Kevin nods and starts to reach out before realizing it would be no use. “Yeah, Sam, it’s me.” 
“But- w-w why?” Sam curses his voice for failing him, curses the shaking that sobbing left him with, curses it because he needs to be strong now. For Dean. “Why didn’t you help us?” A ghost would’ve been a great thing to have in a fight! A ghost could probably, I don’t know, push Dean away from a deadly-sharp hook on the wall? If Kevin has been here, why- “Is Dean in the veil? Can he hear me? Dean!” 
Kevin throws a gust of air in his face to get his attention, and it hits Sam like a slap. He looks back at the ghost, wideyed. Kevin looks apologetic. “I don’t have a lot of time, but you need to calm down. Seriously.”
“I can’t calm down-”
“No, Sam, you need to calm down.” Kevin looks upward nervously, as if he’s expecting to see some big figure raise the roof of the barnhouse up and peek down at them. “I’ll explain, but first thing you need to know is: Dean’s dead. He’s in heaven, and he’s in trouble.” 
---------------------------
Sam drives the Impala at exactly the speed limit, eyes dried to the point of aching. Dean’s wrapped body is sprawled out in the back seat, and if Sam just glances in the rearview mirror he can almost pretend he’s just passed out. Just had one too many shots of Cuervo and conked out so his little brother can drive. Sure. Whatever gets you through the night. 
Dropping off the kids was easy. Traumatized kids don’t say much, don’t ask too many questions, and they’ll forget the shellshocked stranger that saved them soon enough. Either that or he will haunt their nightmares, but Sam can’t help that. He can’t help anyone at this point, covered in dirt and blood and exhausted. He drives out to the middle of the forest anyway, Kevin’s words on a loop in his head. 
“You have to be normal. Chuck can’t want to watch you at all. So just play into his game. Pretend to only care about Dean, get out of the life, settle down.”
Sam had frowned, Eileen instantly springing to his mind. Surely he can care about her, right? “But-” 
“No, Sam, I’m sorry. Dean told me to tell you that Eileen… it’s just too dangerous. He likes you two. He’s gotta hate your life so much he doesn’t want to see it. It’s gotta bore him.” 
So Sam burns his brother's body in a forest alone, with only Miracle for company. There’s a dagger in his chest that tells him he’s betraying everyone he cares about, including Dean. Dean wanted a big funeral. He wanted his whole family there, not just his brother and a dog. And Eileen. There are three unread texts and a missed video call from Eileen already. Apparently Kevin hadn’t visited her yet. To let her know. 
It doesn’t take Sam long to leave the bunker. It just feels like a punch to the gut at this point. That table over there, carved with their family’s names, that’s where he and Dean swore they’d be free. They swore they’d get everything they wanted and everything they deserved. And now Sam has one pillow on his bed and an empty bunker full of the possessions of dead people. 
He knows there is a plan. He knows that. And it should comfort him, but it doesn’t, because he still has to live his long, boring, lonely life without the woman he loves or the family he misses or the brother he mourns. Time on Earth is torturously slow. 
The small things make the ache in his heart just a little lighter. He finds a job he likes, teaching history and the classics to teenagers. He remembers his old English teacher, and he tries to be that to kids that need it, kids that remind him of Claire or Jack. He gets to see Jody and the girls once every few years, a risk that he knows is worth it because it keeps him going. He can’t see Eileen. It would hurt too much. They both agreed the one time they called. He keeps learning ASL anyway, and he tells the story of him and Eileen meeting (slightly modified) to the kids in his class. 
He finds a wife. It was one of the things he put off, but after three years he knows he has to get on with it or he’ll get depressed. He needs someone, even if she is boring and too-nice and entirely too gullible. She’s nice and he’s good to her, but he can’t love her because she’s not real. Not in the way that Eileen is. She might as well be a blurred out mother figure action doll, for all she knows. And he hates himself for marrying her, when she deserves someone who finds her boringness interesting, but he knows this is what Chuck expects. He expects Sam to marry a nice woman and have a kid named Dean and grow old always hurting for the old times. Oh, and Sam does. 
He’d rather be back in the pit with Lucifer than this domestic djinn dream, but he reminds himself every day that someday they’re going to get rid of Chuck and then he’ll be able to live. Dean too. Cas too. And Jack. Sam’s going to kill that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing he does, living or dead. And it looks like it’ll be dead.
His fiftieth birthday has come and gone when Kevin finally comes back. The lights in Sam’s classroom flicker and go out, and then Kevin is there, chest heaving. He runs to the chalkboard and picks up a piece of chalk, and Sam’s talking as he writes. 
“Kevin, how’s Dean? Any updates on what’s happening in heaven? Is Chu-Jack okay?”
Kevin turns around, irritated, until he sees the look on Sam’s face. “Yeah, listen, everything is… fine. We’re working on it. Look, the important thing is that you get these ingredients-” he points to the chalkboard, “and perform the spell. But listen, it’s gotta be next week. Friday. There’s a full moon, it’s… you gotta make it happen.” 
Sam’s eyes bulge. “Friday? Kevin, what the hell, a little notice would be nice! How am I supposed to get-” he looks past him to the hastily written ingredients. “These ingredients are insane! It’lll take me weeks just to fly around the fucking world to grab them!” 
Kevin throws his hands up, looking almost as stressed as Sam. “Listen, man, we’re doing our best up there! Time is fucked up and we’re trying to be sneaky and it is a lot of pressure!” he finally takes a deep breath, which seems to help. “I’m sorry, I know it’s too much to ask, but we have no choice. Call a witch friend for the ingredients, summon Rowena and let her in on the plan. It’s Friday or never.” 
He flickers out before Sam can even reply. Apparently the stress and talking like that took too much out of him. Sam’s left alone to say “Sorry,” to an empty classroom. He sits down heavily at his desk and runs a hand through his graying hair. 
He copies down the ingredients and the spell and it’s then that he knows he definitely needs help. Luckily, he knows who to call. 
The phone rings so long Sam thinks about hanging up, but he picks up just before he can. “Sam!” Max sounds winded, and the first thought that enters Sam’s head is not appropriate for the occasion. 
“Hey Max, you got a second? You’re not…” busy? Jesus, Sam is blushing.
Max laughs. “Nah, you’re good, man. What’s up?” 
God, to speak to someone who understands his life again. To really get to talk to them. “Uh, it’s kinda not the kind of thing to talk about over the phone. Can I drive to you?” 
---------------------------------------
“Hey, Rowena,” 
Sam’s natural state is apparently social awkwardness now. Dean would say that had always been true… No, not the time to get sidetracked with that sad shit. He shuffles his feet again and adjusts a candle, waiting for Rowena to appear. He’s fifty fucking years old. He’s fine.
“Hello, dearie.” 
Sam grins at her, but is once again met with the sad eyes Kevin always gives him. “Fuck, can everybody stop with the dead brother horrible life shit?” She doesn’t look taken aback, no that’s not Rowena. She looks more like a school principal that just got told off by an 8th grader, surprised and a little offended. Sam softens a little bit. “Sorry, I just- listen, I get it, okay? My life is fucked up and it’s all a lie to beat God, I know. Can we move past that and get back to the saving the world stuff?” 
A slow smile spreads across Rowena’s face, and she pats him on the cheek. “There she is. Hello, Samuel.” 
Sam rolls his eyes. “Hi Rowena, how are you?” 
“Oh, just dandy. Tamped down a few ne’er-do-wells, not a problem. Being worshipped every day is hard work, but I manage, somehow.” 
“I’m sure. ‘Jack’ giving you any trouble?” 
She waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve barely seen the boy since he took over. Apparently he’s much more interested in watching his little short films in heaven than anything down below…” Sam’s got a question on his lips but she waves that away too. Too little time to explain the intricacies of eternal family drama that heaven is currently. “It doesn’t matter. I have free reign, which means I can pop in for our little soirees.” 
Sam nods, grateful that that’s true at least. He hands her the list of ingredients and the spell and watches as she studies it. “Problem?” 
“Hm. No, I can do that.” She looks up brightly at him. “I’m the greatest witch of all time, Samuel. I’m more worried about how you will accomplish it.” She looks down at his summoning ritual and bends down to correct a chalk mark with her finger. “You’re a wee bit rusty.” 
Sam scoffs. He’s missed this. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I called up my friend Max, Max Banes. He’s going to help me out.” 
“Max Banes? Hm.” For a second, Sam thought he saw something flash across Rowena’s face.
“What?” 
“Nothing.” She shrugs it off. “I’ve heard of the witch, that’s all. He’ll be good help for you, I’m sure. Now, Samuel, if you’ll excuse me… Underworlds to run and all that.” She steps away, but Sam stops her before she can disappear again.
“Wait!” He hugs her tightly. She only resists for a moment before she returns the hug, a light tap on his shoulder. “Thank you, Rowena.” 
“Of course, Samuel. Until next time.” 
She’s gone with a puff of smoke and Sam is left hugging air.
tag list (ask to be added or removed):
Tag list: @dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus @damian-janus-pendragon
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nexility-sims · 3 years
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟔: 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧  /  ALAM PALACE, YAAS, 1926
❧  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
In the small rituals of domesticity, Zuriñe finds fleeting respite from life’s demands. Cooking, while hardly the task of a queen, brings her renewed focus. She stands in the palace’s expansive kitchen with maids helping with the prep work. In the old days, a pot of soup sat simmering all day—even in a royal residence—but she has neither the patience or time for that. She hopes instead to comfort herself while mulling the dilemmas mounting upon her already weary mind.
Even while slicing, dicing, and stirring, she cannot quite escape business.
Rowena arrives after she has dismissed Aziza and Viçente, sending them off to the palace’s working rooms with tails tucked between legs. The stinging disappointment with which she had lashed them was not altogether purposeful; Rowena’s presence agitated her, and their tiny failures bore the brunt of it. It was better that way, too, as she wished to maintain a posture of kindness—even with a reserve running so low.
Her back is to the door, but Zuriñe has been listening for Rowena’s arrival since the others departed.  
“Your Majesty ...” She can tell Rowena finds the words clumsy and onerous. “You wanted to see me?”
Zuriñe wonders if she always sounds so timid, even as each fact she knows about her suggests not.
After a pause, she replies, “I did. Shall we have dinner?” She adds, though an explanation is hardly needed, “Alfonso has gone to fetch his father. It will be a quiet evening, and cooking is not simply for the servants.”
Once Rowena has joined her at the stove, Zuriñe asks, “Do you cook?”
“Goodness!” Rowena laughs. “I wouldn’t trust myself around a stove. Unattended.”
With a nod, the queen comments, “Mafalda is the same. Let me teach you a recipe. I learned it from Mother Desideria—Alfonso’s grandmother.”
The import of such a detail is not lost on either of them. Zuriñe had begun the soup because she craved, not stability, but a taste that reminded her of survival and perseverance. In a sense, blood, sweat, and tears had all gone into the hearty bowls Mother Desideria had served her all those years ago as she sat, cradling her stomach and dreaming of gallows. Now, Zuriñe proffered, not merely a meal, but knowledge. 
“Oh, how special,” Rowena replies, her voice almost strangled with surprise. Emphatic, she insists, “Please.”
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Seven Devils
Part Five of the All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series
Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Sam Winchester, Charlie, John Winchester, Fem! Reader, Rowena, Crowley
Wordcount: 2,317
A/N- You’ve waited long enough. enjoy, luvs!
Summary: Y/N finally reveals herself, her mission, but everything could be put in jeopardy when the unexpected forces her to make a choice.
Warnings- Implied sexual assault, very briefly mentioned. Death by gallows.
                 “Y/N. Y/N MacLeod.” The silence that followed the words was deafening, Crowley staring agape. “You’re bloody jesting.” He denied instantly. You smirked, shaking your head. “No. You came to my home, to Innisfree, and you slaughtered almost the entire royal family. All except one, the youngest princess, who disguised herself as a peasant and spent many years serving the man that destroyed her life. She was beautiful, and caught your eye. You stole her away to your chambers, and then forgot about her. Then I was born. My mother died in childbirth, but I carry her legacy, and her title.” You said darkly. “Impossible!” Crowley snapped. “Oh, but it is the truth, Fergus, and now, I will be the one to burn your kingdom to ash.” You smiled, a hunger for revenge alight in your eyes. “I should kill you here and now, and be done with it,” you mused, stepping closer with an assessing gaze, “but that would be merciful. No, you’ll live, and when I reclaim my throne and wash my hands in the blood of your subjects and soldiers, you will watch, watch as your own daughter dismantles all that you hold dear.” Crowley paled considerably, scowling and struggling in his bonds. “So, for now, I leave you to your cell. I am truly so glad we were able to talk, father.” You spat. You turned on your heel, ignoring Crowley’s enraged threats and the insults he hurled at you.
             You were ready, already stealing away to a hidden exit in the building, prepared to make your escape, when a loud commotion made you pause. The king’s guard were all rushing in one direction, and echoing through the halls was the sound of metal clashing on metal, the air suddenly charged with tension. Crowley’s people had come to free him, and they would cut through every living soul for fun. “Sam, you must go, and take Jessica!” An all-too familiar voice shouted, your heart racing. Dean. Of course, he had to be the hero every time. You had a mission, a vital task that your entire kingdom depended on you for. If you turned around, you knew well that you would never be able to leave. But if you left, knowing the odds were so stacked against Dean, you didn’t think you could forgive yourself. The shouts and sound of battle grew louder and louder, and for a moment, everything became clear, and you knew what you had to do.
              “Stop! Touch him and I swear I shall kill you!” You snarled viciously, a sword you’d stolen from the body of a dead soldier in your hand. The man that had been holding a knife to Dean’s throat hesitated as he saw the death promise blazing in your eyes, the unrestrained fury and hatred burning there. “Why should I take such an order from you?” The man spat. “For one, because I will not hesitate to slay you where you stand, and you would be dead before your wretched companions could so much as move,” you started, eyes narrowed, “and for another, because I have command of you and your legions by birthright.” No one moved, Dean’s shocked green eyes snapping to you. “What?” “By your law and custom, you are bound to the ruling of the MacLeod bloodline, and thus, to me. I am Y/N MacLeod, Queen of Innisfree, The Morrigan, The Assassin, and Queen of you, especially since Crowley is otherwise indisposed.” You said. You had played the only card you had left, but the cost weighed heavily, and you met Dean’s eyes finding nothing but betrayal in them. The demon slowly removed the knife, the others exchanging glances, but following the example, especially as your sword remained poised to strike. They knelt, and your expression remained hard, swallowing the guilt down. “Return to your own stronghold, and if a single one of you is found within five kilometres of this land, I shall make an exceptionally gruesome example of you of what happens when I am disobeyed.” You ordered. When no one moved, you stepped closer, sword pressed against the first demon’s chest. “I don’t believe I hesitated.” You growled. They scrambled to leave, not daring to challenge you, knowing well your reputation.
           “Y/N, please tell me you lied.” Dean begged, your eyes closing. “I am so sorry, Dean. I never- I never wanted for this to happen, I-” He shook his head, backing away from you. “This entire time, everything was a lie, all of it part of your plan. I trusted you!” Dean shouted accusingly. “I hope you can understand in time that I did what I had to. I have a kingdom to protect, Dean. This burden was mine, and I had to carry it. Forgive me. I have to go.” You said, voice wobbling with tears building in your eyes. “I understand. But I must protect my kingdom, too, Y/N.” Dean said, your brows furrowing in confusion. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” He sighed heavily. “Dean, I do not understand-” and then you felt it. The presence of someone behind you. John Winchester and his personal guard. You didn’t have the time to run before you were knocked unconscious.
                 You woke in a place that was familiar, immediate terror stealing away the air from your lungs. Stone walls, darkness, and absolute silence. The tomb-like prison you had been incarcerated in before. “No, no, no, no...” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. Through the bars, you saw Dean staring at you. “Dean, please, don’t do this.” You pleaded, thoughts spiraling further into despair. “You betrayed me. You betrayed my people.” “I saved your life!” “And how long would it be before your army came here to lay siege to my palace, Y/N?!” Dean shot back, marching up to the cell. “I would never have hurt you, Dean.” You said, shocked. “How can I believe you? How can I believe a single word you say, when everything, everything you have ever said to me, has been a lie!” He roared, slamming a fist against the wall and immediately regretting it. You flinched at the anger and anguish in his voice. “I told you I was here for my people, Dean! I have been more honest with you than I have been with anyone else in my entire life!” You argued desperately. “I would have helped you, if you had told me. I could have been there for you. Instead you kept it a secret, and I don’t know how many other secrets you have.” Dean swallowed. “The worst part of it is you made me believe you cared for me. Well, if that was your intention, congratulations, Y/N, you made me care for you, too.” He said bitterly, your eyes going wide. “I do care for you. No matter how I cherish you, I cannot let myself stray from my mission. I wanted to, so many times.” You admitted in a whisper. “Please, don’t leave me here. If you truly care for me, don’t leave me here-” “Don’t! Do not attempt to manipulate me, not any longer.” Dean said lowly. “You are to be tried, and sentenced come dawn.” “And if I am sentenced to death?” You asked boldly. “Then I will not be mourning.” He replied. You moved fast, snatching his sword from his side, and held it, but the blade was against your own throat. “Then go ahead, Dean. I would rather die than be trapped here, so if you truly would not mourn, kill me now.” You said, staring into his eyes defiantly, his hand on the hilt of the sword. He shook his head, sheathing the weapon and backing away. “You will be tried for your crimes as is just.” He said. “Crowley is my enemy as well as yours! I can stop him, I can trap he and his men forever! Why will you not help me?” You demanded. “I am to be King one day, Y/N, and my father has told me there are many difficult choices to make. I am commanding my troops and we will take Innisfree under Lebanon’s name, as it is clearly a hostile kingdom and dangerous.” Dean said, not meeting your eyes. You couldn’t breathe. “No, you can’t! My people are innocent, Dean, please! Don’t do this!” You begged, now near sobbing. “I have to. You forced my hand, and with Crowley freed, there is no other way.” He said, turning away with his back to you. “I am not the one who is the traitor, Dean. I was wrong about you. You are exactly like your father.” You choked out, sinking to your knees. He swallowed hard, glad you couldn’t see the agony on his face. He walked out, and you collapsed into your grief.
                  The King and his council, as well as both princes, sat in a line at the raised podium as you were led to the middle of the floor, manacled and clad in irons and chains with multiple armed guards flanking you. The people loudly shouted insults and threats at you, but you remained stoic, the grey light of dawn matching your somber mood. Dean looked everywhere but at you, and as John stood to begin the proceedings of the trial, you kept your gaze steady on him.
               “The jury has come to a unanimous decision. The accused, Y/N MacLeod, is found guilty of treason, murder, espionage, theft, and being part of a dangerous rebellion. The accused is sentenced to...” John paused for dramatic effect, the audience hushed. “Death by the gallows.” John declared. You lifted your chin, as regal as any Queen, the audience cheering. Dean finally met your eyes, looking conflicted. You were led immediately to the gallows, a hooded man already waiting to pull the lever that would seal your fate. 
             “As is tradition, you are permitted last words.” John said. “My death will not be in vain! No matter what you accuse me of, I die knowing I fought with honour against tyrants like you for the freedom of my people!” You said proudly. You met Dean’s eyes, and couldn’t find it in you to hate him. “And no matter the outcome, I would make the same choices all over again.” You said, hoping Dean understood what you meant. The pain in the end was worth the beauty of falling in love for a moment. You turned to John with a satisfied smirk. “I shall see you in Hell.” You promised. He turned red in fury, and you closed your eyes as he turned to the executioner. “Do it-” “Wait!”
            Your eyes snapped open, staring at Dean in confusion. He’d stood from his seat, John and Sam gaping at him while the public watched on. The obedient son, heir to the throne, opposing his father’s orders. And for the thief and assassin condemned to hanging. Dean took several quick and long strides to the gallows, meeting your eyes ashamedly.
             “Wait.” Dean repeated, fists clenched and jaw tight. “She is not the enemy, father, at least not as of now.” “Son, I would advise you to return to your seat-” John gritted his teeth but Dean wasn’t finished pleading his case. “No, father, listen to me. She is the enemy of Crowley, and thus our ally. Her alliance with Crowley’s forces is purely to overthrow the occupants of Innisfree. She is a powerful person to have on our side in this war, father.” Dean said, tone steady but hard and uncompromising. “You can’t mean to say you would side with her.” John said incredulously. “That is precisely what I mean.” Dean didn’t wait for his father’s permission, drawing his sword and cutting through the rope around your neck, making you cough at the sudden intake of air. He met his father’s eyes challengingly as he offered you his hand, John’s gaze flickering between you both in shock. “My son,” John began loudly, “has decided to take full responsibility for the crimes and charges against this murderer. He has sworn that she will be our ally, until the war against Fergus MacLeod ends, or she is met with an untimely death.” John said, cutting a glare your way. “Furthermore, should either of them break the terms, both shall be permanently exiled from these lands on pain of death.” John decreed. Dean’s grip tightened, but he showed no other outward signs of the shock he must’ve felt, while Sam was standing, ready to argue for his brother’s sake. “Is that understood?” John asked. “Perfectly, father. If you would excuse us. The guards are not necessary.” Dean said, bowing mockingly, and leading you away.
           “What are you thinking?!” You demanded as Dean entered his room. “A thank you would suffice, Y/N.” He responded. “For what?! Risking both of our lives?! Do you realize your title is now at risk of being forfeit?” “I won’t have a title if Crowley takes over my kingdom. I was selfish, and I acted on impulse out of hurt, and for that, I truly apologize. I should never have let you be locked away. I am still hurt, and I don’t know if I can trust you,” he frowned, meeting your eyes, “but I cannot pretend what I feel for you has vanished.” “Dean, think about this. I still have a mission I must fulfill.” You said quietly. “I know. None of it matters, not right now. All I need to know is that you and I are on the same side. The rest of it can come later.” He said, eyes warm as he regarded you. “Are we? On the same side?” Dean asked. “Of course we are.” You said, smiling slightly. “Good. Now, we rest, and then we devise a plan.” “You truly think this can work?” “I don’t know. But I would like to hope so.” He said with a smile. You considered him for a long moment, nodding slowly. You believed him.
TAGS-
Forever Tags-
@justagirlinafandomworld
Dean Babes-
@herfalsegod
All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series Tags-
@perpetualabsurdity
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ao3feed-destiel · 4 years
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Tongues of Lilting Grace
Read it on AO3 here!https://ift.tt/3bVDwKj
by heyshalina
Sam’s eyebrow twitches. He’s always been half-something. His entire life, Sam was always at best half himself. But there was always Dean – whole, loud, larger than life. Sam looks at him now, slack mouth and hung head, and sees nothing. A vast emptiness where his brother should be, and the void of it fills Sam with unshakable rage.
Words: 20254, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Gallows Pole
Fandoms: Supernatural
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: Gen
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Michael (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Rowena MacLeod, Charlie Bradbury
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Additional Tags: Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Torture, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Recovery, Gen or Pre-Slash, Magic, selective/trauma induced mutism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s14e09 The Spear
Link: https://ift.tt/3bVDwKj
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justjessame · 4 years
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Dr. Tali Sullivan Chapter 23
Tali’s farewell letters to her loved ones:
Mom,
I know that I disappointed you by giving up my soul, my life for John to come back. I know, even without having been able to see and talk to you over these long years, that you tried to make peace with my choice. Having my body taken over by another demon was just one more strike against me.
I lost the years that I’d planned on spending with you and dad, with John and the boys, with my friends and family simply because I made a deal with a demon. I paid such a high price, but as I look at my little girl sleeping soundly and peacefully in her bassinet beside me, maybe it wasn’t high enough.
I wish that I could watch her grow. I wish that I could see her when she says her first word. I wonder what it’ll be since she won’t have her momma or her daddy with her? I wish I could stay, and if I had ANOTHER soul- sorry that was a bad attempt at gallows humor. I wish that I didn’t have to go, Mom, but I do.
Love Abi like you loved me. Show her how important our family is, but also remind her that darkness can show up dressed like your greatest desires. I know mine did.
I love you, Mom. You made my childhood magical and my adulthood bearable. I wish for so much, but the one thing I wish I had was more time. Keep my memory alive for her, please. And, once the pain is a dull ache, tell her about John. The good parts, the strength and his loyalty. The fact that he took her momma’s breath away, and gave me her.
Don’t cry, or at least don’t cry too much for me, Mom. Know that I won’t be alone, and I won’t be in pain. I just won’t be here.
Tali
 Daddy,
I know that saying goodbye to me isn’t something you’re ready for, and I have to confess I’m not ready either. I didn’t get to do it by plan or design. I didn’t get to reintroduce you and John, this time as members of my family. And I know, even mentioning him now in this letter that Rowena will give you when I’m gone has made your fists tighten on the paper, but please, don’t.
Don’t rage about him. Don’t make threats or promises against him. Remember that the tiny little girl I’m leaving behind is part of him. For her, if not for me, remember that he is her father. Even if he isn’t present, don’t make her doubt herself or her place in your heart based on how you feel about him.
I loved him, Daddy. Too much, you’d say, seeing how this is ending, but isn’t that how the best kinds of love are supposed to be? All consuming and irrational? Even though I’ll be dying for him, know that I’d happily live for HER.
Waking up pregnant, after years of being silent, was the strangest part of this entire situation, but somewhere along the way, I fell completely in thrall with Abi. She’ll be the best of me, left behind when I move on. And I leave her in the very best hands I can, yours. And Mom’s.
Climb trees with her, show her how much I loved the treehouse you built me. Remind her of me, and my childhood, not just with pictures, but with stories. Tell her about the dangers the world holds, but also about the magic.
I love you so much, Dad, and I wish that I could say goodbye in person, but I know what’s coming. And that knowledge forces my hand and my pen on paper is all I can give you. Even in Hell, the memories of my life before will keep me company, and you and Mom can keep me alive for Abi.
Tali
 Castiel,
If someone had told me ten years ago that one day I’d be writing a farewell letter to an angel, I would have called security on them.
I will never forget that you were the first person (being?) I saw when I came back to myself. That it was YOU who braced me for what was coming. That you stood beside me against the very family that you act as a guardian angel for. This is why I have to say goodbye and thank you.
I know that you care deeply for Dean, and I am very happy that he has you. He’s a lot like his dad, and that impulsiveness can be dangerous. As can his loyalty, and his urge to protect his family. Make him see, if you can, that staying AWAY from Abi is the only way this works. That his job as big brother and protector is best served with Sam. That she’s safe and perfect where she is. He’ll fight it. He is a Winchester after all.
Check in on her, Cas? Make sure that she’s content, even with my parents doting on her and the love she’ll be surrounded in. Leaving her is far more difficult than leaving anyone else, isn’t that funny? I had no real hand in her conception, but she holds me tight in her tiny fist. Thank you, for trying to take away the agony I know you’ll try to relieve. Thank you for standing by me, for helping me through my labor, and for being a friend.
I wish- It doesn’t matter. Goodbye, Castiel, Angel of the Lord.
Tali
 John and Mary-
There, that was the hard part, I guess. I know that my decision to keep our daughter from you will seem petty and cruel. I honestly don’t care. I found it rather cruel that for almost nine full years you didn’t realize you were keeping company with my body, but not ME.
I tried, and Rowena tried, to convince myself that the thing that was inside of me during the last nine years had beguiled you to not notice that it wasn’t me. I want so badly to believe it. That John Winchester would KNOW, if not for some dark magic clouding his mind. I hope it’s true. I do, but I’m afraid it isn’t and you really truly didn’t know me at all.
Seeing you return, Mary, made my choice that much simpler. John now has the life the djinn gave him hope for, and the two of you can move forward as though nothing but a hiccup of separation had happened. My daughter needs to not bear witness to it.
You see, she’s mine. Even if my mental presence wasn’t required for her creation, my body was, and that made it far too easy to walk away. I had a piece, a reminder, that for a tiny time I was loved by a man I loved so deeply that I’d give my life for. And that’s enough.
You’ll receive this when I’m gone. Just a notice that I’ve departed. Nothing more, nothing less. And you’ll continue on your day as though you read it in the paper. An acquaintance that you fondly recall, in the deep reaches of your mind, but nothing to lose sleep over.
I did love you, John Winchester, but I’ve found peace. I don't regret the deal I made, I only regret the lack of time I've had to prepare to pay my debt. And if nothing else, I’m thankful for that.
I wish the two of you a long happy life together. You’ve both been given a second chance. Make the most of it.
Dr. Tali Sullivan
 Sam,
You saw me, I know you did, but I can’t figure out why you didn’t raise the alarm after your soul returned.
It doesn’t matter. Not really. In the end, I was going to die regardless. Maybe not having the memories of nine years with your dad and Dean and you makes it easier to leave.
I wish, for oh so many things, but mostly that you understand why Abi can’t know the three of you. She needs to have a fresh life, away from the burden that being a Winchester can cause. I know you’ll want to argue that having your mother back would change it, but I do hope you understand why that doesn’t make it more reasonable for me.
Time isn’t infinite, Sam, so make sure you spend it wisely. And make sure that you stay far away from the crossroads, because the temptation is always far greater than the consequences.
Tali
 Dean-
I hope you take heart in knowing that there’s only one farewell I’ll be writing after yours. That this goodbye is far harder than the ones that came before, and that only your baby sister comes after you.
I woke up, after years of nothing, to find myself in a strange place, with a guest housed inside of me. I wonder, if I’d been aware and myself for those nine years, would I have ever had my doubts about my choice of life partner?
I told John, and you, that I only allowed us to get close because of how much you reminded me of him. I’m not as sure about that anymore. And before you brush it off as being hurt from how easily he was led to believe that I was me, even when I wasn’t me, know that it isn’t the case. I kissed you, Dean Winchester. I touched you. And, if I hadn’t allowed my grief to overwhelm me, I wonder if you wouldn’t have had to see our future through a djinn’s magic?
I know that you’re going to fight Cas’ insistence that you NOT try to know and protect your baby sister, but don’t. Please? She needs to be free, just as I will be soon enough, and you need to take care of yourself for once. She’s not your responsibility, and she won’t be. You have spent your entire life taking care of Sam, and I won’t add her to your burden.
I love you, Dean, perhaps not in the same all consuming way I loved him, but I do love you. And maybe, if I hadn’t wanted him so badly, this wouldn’t have happened. Rookie mistake, choosing emotion over logic. I won’t do that again.
Tali
 My darling Abigail-
By the time you can read this for yourself, or even understand the words as they’re read to you, I will be just a photograph that your grandma and grandpa point to while telling you stories about me. And that cuts deeper than any pain that I’ll ever feel or have felt.
I wish that I could watch you grow. I want to be there when you take your first step and say your first word. I want to hear you when you read your first story out loud. And I want to know what passion will make you want to learn as much about as I did mine.
The greatest sorrow I have is that you won’t know me, or your daddy. You’ll have questions, you are my child after all, but please know that I didn’t make the choice lightly. You were created with love, misguided perhaps, but love was there. Your daddy is a great hunter, a man filled with passion and strength, and a man that has his own life to live.
I love you, Abigail Alice. And my biggest regret is that I won’t get to tell you that myself.
Mommy
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brightbell · 2 years
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DWC May Day 7 - Humility/Pride
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“It was power I sought… but not to conquer or rule. It was a means to an end, to save Azeroth from an unstoppable foe.” – Illidan Stormrage
 There was nothing like losing one of the most important people in your life to humble you.
The letter was sent as fast as it could be to Rowena and Roxxanna, from their older sister, Phoebe, that still lived with their aging father. It was marked ‘urgent’ and highly suggested the twins make haste to their father’s home, as he was fading quickly. As soon as they got the letter, the girls threw together a bag, saddled their horses, and prepared for the ride north, where their sister and father resided in the Red Ridge Mountains.
Somehow, they made it in time. All three girls surrounded Earl’s bed, Rowena and Roxxanna clutching his hands as he told him how proud he was of them, and how much he loved them, one last time, before he went to join their mother in the afterlife. Roxxanna prayed that Earl was able to join Lillian, wherever she might be.
Rowena prepared their father’s body for burial, and together, with his body in a casket in the back of a wagon, the three girls set off to bury him beside their mother in Gilneas. That trip took a little longer with the wagon, but they made it, and were able to hire a few young men to dig the grave before they had a small, grave-side ceremony, with their cousin Truedelle in attendance as well.
“Won’t be the same without ‘em next year,” Rowena said through tears. Phoebe draped her arm around her younger sister’s shoulders and hugged her.
“No, it won’t, that’s for sure. But he’s with ma now, and I know that would make him happy. As would seeing us thrive, even without them.”
Rowena nods and wipes at her eyes, holding out her hand to Roxie and True. The other two girls join them, and just hug each other for a long, quiet moment.
“Thank you for being with him, Pheebs. It’s good to know he wasn’t alone,” Roxxanna said to her older sister, who nodded in return. Phoebe knew Roxie wanted to be there, but the distance between Stormwind and Silverpine was great, and that’s where the priestess’ work was. Once Phoebe determined Earl was not going to recover from his illness, even with the finest doctors treating him, she convinced him to move closer to the big city where his other two girls lived.
It had been the correct decision, Phoebe reminded herself, even if had meant a long, arduous journey, and lots of complaining, on both their parts. But it also meant that Nena and Roxie could visit more often, and stay longer when they did.
The girls left the cemetery near dark and headed for an inn to settle in for the night. They pooled their gold together and got a large room all four of them could share, and spent quite a few hours reminiscing.  Finally, sleep took them.
“I shall look into getting a headstone for da, and a new one of ma, when we return to the city,” Roxxanna announced at breakfast the next morning. Phoebe nodded, but Rowena was quiet, staring down into her morning tea.
“Nena? Are you well?” Roxie asked her twin. Rowena just shrug, but finally nodded.
“I just can’t believe they’re both gone, aye?” The other three girls nodded in agreement.
“But they’re together now,” Roxie said, reaching across the table to grip Rowena’s hand.
“Aye, and that’s a comfort, sure enough. We should get on the road, tis a long way back to Stormwind still.”
@daily-writing-challenge​
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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 7 months
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Blind Stars of Fortune
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/cXRNav0 by heyshalina Sam rubs at the palm of his hand with his thumb, an old gesture Cas has not seen him perform in a long time. “It’s not that I don’t think Dean won’t get better,” Sam says lowly. “I just…if we can’t heal him, will the old Dean ever even come back?” Cas doesn’t know how to answer him, because he’s been battling the same thoughts. Behind them, Dean groans uncomfortably and tries to shift; Sam’s hand reaches out instinctively, his fingers lightly touching Dean’s ankle. “I think,” Cas starts, looking at Sam’s bunched up shoulders and Dean’s empty eyes. “That all we did was not in vain. And that I would take any version of the Winchesters than no version at all.” Words: 23306, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Gallows Pole Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Michael (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Jody Mills, Charlie Bradbury, Claire Novak, Rowena MacLeod Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline Additional Tags: Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean Winchester, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Recovery, Gen or Pre-Slash, selective/trauma induced mutism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s14e09 The Spear (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/cXRNav0
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shadowfaximpala · 7 years
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Bring the Wayward Home Tonight
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MASTERLIST
Summary: The Darkness released her grip on the world, the bond between you and your brother being her saving grace for humanity; filled with inspiration and compassion she gives you the thing you needed most. But all gifts come with burden...
Warnings: Language, Depression, Drinking, Angst
Pairing: Gabriel x Reader
Author’s Notes: This will be a short series, I like to write when I travel to work and music is often the source. Let me know what you think so far! I love writing angsty stuff. 
Chapter One: The Gift
Failure. Miserable and complete failure on a grand new scale of epic proportions, even God himself couldn’t stop the darkness. The most unlikely rabble of a team had been assembled to stop her but she had overpowered each and every one of you in a heartbeat.
Chuck snapped all of you back to the bunker to hide away the impending reminder of doom, the sun was dying, the light fading from it’s ethereal essence sat high in the sky like a man on trial in the gallows about to be hung. You glanced a look around the room at the forlorn expressions, hope fading fast. You could sense that everyone had given up, Chuck was dying and with it so was everything in existence.
Dean did the only thing he knew how to do, he grabbed a beer by the horns and chugged it down like a dying person in the sahara with their last sip of water. You eyed your elder twin brother cautiously, before walking past Sam’s protests and grabbing a bottle yourself.
“Fuck it, bottoms up!” You clinked glasses with Dean who passed a knowing glance with you. Sam began glaring at the both of you, his hair bouncing with each shake of his head, his jaw clenched tight.
“I can’t believe you two,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yeah well, we’re out of options here Sammy, whatever you got stuffed up your jacket for plan B then let’s get cracking but quite frankly if this is how we go out, I’d rather be blackout drunk by the time the world actually blacks out, so…” you held the beer up to him as if to feign a toast before necking the remnants of the bottle. You shoved past him, grabbing another bottle and making your way into the war room.
Chuck was in bad shape, he was obviously giving into his fate, as were Crowley and Rowena, this time there was no saving people, no more hunting things. Just darkness. A darkness that had gripped you tight for a long time and now it was time to accept her end.
You plonked yourself down unceremoniously in front of God himself, he eyed you for a second, his face taught, lined with the weight of what was happening, what had been happening now for far too long.
“You still wear that jacket…” His eyes draped over the khaki green clothing that you had barely taken off since that day…
Suddenly your mood shifted to feeling self conscious, you looked down at the jacket that hung on your frame. A soft smile ghosted your lips without you even realising, a smile of happiness mixed with grief.
“You loved him, didn’t you?” Chuck’s voice cut you through like knives. Your eyes shot up to his disheveled appearance, drinking in the expression on his face. He gave you an omniscient smile, one that was smothered in sincerity. “He loved you too,” his eyes grew weary. “I wish I could have brought him back, if I had more time, if I wasn’t dying I would be happy to reunite you both, just know… I always gave you my blessing. I’m glad it was you he chose, no matter how brief the time you spent together.” You hadn’t realised a tear slipped past your eye until you hear the patter of water droplets on fabric. You laughed nervously and wiped your face.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“Don’t thank me, I’ve been a terrible father, a terrible creator.”
“No, you gave us this life and even though it seems crappy at times, there’s always hope. I always hoped you would answer my prayers when Gabriel died, and even though you never brought him back my memories of him will always be happy ones, even if he killed Dean a hundred times,” Chuck laughed, even with the pain radiating through his body he still seemed to enjoy the idea that humanity was capable of compassion. You were sure that deep in his mind it gave him a little peace in his final hours.
The clock ticked away as silence washed over you, absentmindedly you snuggled into the jacket, the one thing tethering you to the archangel you had hopelessly fallen for all those years ago.
Finally a plan was in motion, Sam had rallied a small spark inspiration within everyone to think their way out of this dire situation. Dean and Castiel had snuck out but swiftly returned to hear out the youngest Winchester.
You were all to gather souls; you and your brothers hightailed it to Waverly Hills Sanitorium to collect whatever rabid souls you could muster. One final hunt before the shit fest hit the fan. When you had returned to the bunker to count the accumulated wealth of power, it wasn’t nearly enough, things were looking bleak until Billie showed up to save the day, gifting you all with a few hundred thousand souls.
______
The cold winds began to bite at your skin as the three of you stood, staring down at your mother's grave. Heartache rushed over you like a tidal wave, but you did what you always did, you swallowed it, pushed it down and buried it deep somewhere it wouldn’t surface. You and Dean made your way over to the group, leaving Sam to stare down at the lonely headstone.
“I could go with you,”Castiel offered to Dean, your twin brother shook his head.
“No, I gotta do this alone,” he assured himself.
“Like hell you are,” you stared into Dean’s forest green eyes, “I’m coming with you,” seconds passed without a word, you expected him to shoot you down immediately, to tell you to look out for Sam. He could see the determination burned onto your face. “Sam will be okay,” you muttered as if seeing the struggle in his mind weighing towards allowing you to accompany him.
“I can’t let yo-” You held up your finger to silence him.
“This isn’t open for discussion Dean... God and Amara, me and you. I know the way this ends, and I’m not letting you go in there alone, I’ve made peace with it in my mind. I suggest you do the same. I won’t get in the way, just let me be there when this ends.”
Dean’s eyes twisted in the corners as they always did when he was burdened with sadness. He pulled you into his frame, his embrace felt heavy but you both knew that the bond between you was a shared one. He nodded as he pulled back to stare into your eyes.
“Stay hidden okay?” He turned to Castiel, asking the angel to watch out for Sam. Cas’ lips were pulled into a tight purse as he frowned but nodded in compliance. Dean reeled off his funeral wants as you joined in.
“I want Metallica playing Ride the Lightning, don’t skip out on me, James Hetfield better be crying!” You saw the horrified look on Sam’s face as he approached. He looked as though his heart had broken a second time that day at the thought of losing his sister, but you and Dean, you came into this world as a pair, you were going out the same way.
Sam shook his head, tears building in his eyes as Dean handed him the keys to baby.
“You know the drill Sammy, you're the third in line,” In that moment neither one could look at each other, you remained silent as you watched the pair reluctantly exchange small words. “No chick flick moments,” Dean warned. Sam snatched the keys from his hand as you shuffled over.
“You love chick flicks,” he tried to joke but it fell on deaf ears, Dean embraced his youngest sibling, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the two towering brothers. The three of you shared a lingering hug before Sam tapped you both on the back, pulling himself away.
Dean held your hand loosely, turning to Chuck before giving him the nod.
“Alright,” he began.
“Let’s do this,” you finished.
Chuck snapped his fingers and the two of you were gone. The world around you both shifted as you descended into a beautifully kept garden. Your eyes fell on the dead flowers that no longer bloomed under the dying sun. You could sense Dean’s unease next to you, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go to find a place to hide.
Amara could sniff out the bomb in Dean’s chest instantly as Dean approached her, offering himself to become one with the darkness, she knew you were skittering around in the shadows too. You let out a heavy sigh and revealed yourself from behind a column. You strode confidently next to Dean as he told her that God didn’t want her dead, he couldn’t bear to see her murdered.
“Me and Sam, Me and Y/N,” he gestured towards you, Amara cast her eyes over you, her face wracked with guilt. “We’ve had our fair share of fights, more than our share...but no matter how bad it got, we always made it right.Because we’re family. I need them, and they need me.” You watched as his shoulders dropped a little, like a weight was being lifted slowly. “And when everything goes to crap, that’s all you got. Family!” His voice was hoarse and sharp around the edges as he asserted himself.
Conflict flashed across Amara’s beauty as your brother reasoned with her, her eyes flashed over to you, between the two of you. You were willing to sacrifice yourself alongside your brother to see that Sam had a better future, that the world could remain, she stood from the fountain, you could see the white burning across her knuckles as she gripped onto the stone.
“What do you want?” Dean spoke softly as he repeated his statement.
“I want what you two share,” her voice broke, “I want to be able to mend our bond. The both of you are so different and yet, so alike.” She laughed to herself manically as she took a step closer. “Y/N… You were willing to die for your brother despite everything he has done to you and Sam out of love, why?”
“Because we’re family. I love my brothers, they can be arrogant dicks sometimes,” somewhere in the back of your mind you could almost hear a certain Archangel laugh at your choice of words. “But we share a bond that can never be broken, no matter how dark this world gets, no matter how bleak the days, they are always there for me, when I became a demon they saved me, when I was thrown into Purgatory, Dean made sure we got back alive, got back to Sam. Heck I even killed Dean once, but he forgave me, because that’s what we do, we save each other and we forgive all the bad.”
Amara straightened out the crease in her long black dress as she listened with intent to your words, there was no desperation in them, no plea to end her madness. Just truth.
“Alright,” she nodeed.
Chuck appeared perched on the fountain looking dazed and confused, he looked around for a moment before noticing the three of you stood before him. His first instinct was to jump up in defence but you could see when he looked upon his sister’s face that he relaxed just a little.
Amara relayed her hurt and anger and also her sorrows, her will to repent and start anew with her brother. The sun shone high in the sky, burning brighter than it had ever done before but that dark recess in your heart still flickered away. Chuck pulled the excess souls from Dean, you wished in that moment you could bounce for joy that the day had been saved, but instead you walked away from the happy family reunion, the tug in your heart ached more than ever as God expressed his will to leave earth, his voice echoing in your head. “Earth will be fine. It’s got you, Y/N and Sam…”
“Dean… Y/N…” You stopped in your tracks as Amara’s voice found your ears. “You gave me the thing I needed most, I want to do the same for both of you.” You pivoted slowly on your heel to find the two powerful creators dissipate into an intertwined cloud of light and dark. Confusion washed over the both of you as you now stood alone in the flourishing garden.
Tags: @laneygthememequeen @gabrieltrash @gabrieltrashwrites @thewhiterabbit42 @mkate-writes-things @gettinjoyful
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astridruelle · 7 years
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TASK 005; RULEANDRECAP
OFFICIAL RECAP OF THE 91ST ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES;
Victor: Scarlett Wesley, District Ten
Duration: 6 days 
The arena of the 91st Hunger Games, at first, was pitch black. You couldn’t see things coming at you, even when within an inch from your face, and Scarlett could clearly hear the whimpers of tributes scared of the dark as they were left in there for what felt like an eternity. Finally, above them, a countdown appeared in the darkness and began to count them down to zero. As the countdown continued, the arena began to light up around them, starting with the cornucopia. However, unlike normal lighting this had an eerie, colourful glow to it. The arena looked like a normal forest, however it was a glow in the dark arena. The forest was lit up like glow sticks had been dangled instead of leaves, fire flies flickering through the air. Scarlett managed to escape the bloodbath relatively unharmed, seeking a hiding place in the forest as she tried to wait out the other tributes, hoping they would finish each other off whilst she just tried to stay alive. Day by day she didn’t encounter anyone, until 4 days in when she came across the girl from District Eleven. She’d been about to kill Scarlett when the younger tribute pushed at her, causing her to stumble into a crowd of the fireflies, which she then found out were poisonous. She watched impassively as the girl died a slow death. Finally, on the 6th and final day, she came face to face with the last tribute. The boy from Six was bigger then her, and stronger, and looked more likely to win as he began to charge at her. It was pure luck that Scarlett won, having managed to run away just long enough and duck beneath a bush, she stuck her leg out and tripped the older tribute. She didn’t think twice as she grabbed a rock and smashed it over his head repeatedly until he lost consciousness. She was silent as she was declared the winner of the 91st Hunger Games.
VICTOR: Scarlett Wesley, District Ten 
2nd: Cooper Carter, District Six - killed by Scarlett Wesley 
3rd: Ember Seed, District Eleven - killed by Scarlett Wesley 
4th: Midas Gold, District Two - killed by Ember Seed
5th: Eleonora Gallows, District One - killed by Midas Gold 
6th: Lorena Aurum, District Two - killed by Midas Gold 
7th: Row Yaxley, District One - killed by Lorena Aurum 
8th: Beta Binary, District Three - killed by muttation 
9th: Orelia Haven, District Four - killed by Ember Seed
10th: Lacey Thimble, District Eight - killed by Midas Gold 
11th: Rowan Bark, District Seven - killed by muttation 
12th: Asher Mine, District Twelve - killed by Ember Seed 
13th: Nelly Brooke, District Twelve - killed by Row Yaxley 
14th: Elide Huxley, District Three - killed by Beta Binary 
15th: Neptune Hale, District Four - killed by Eleonora Gallows 
16th: Smith Harrison, District Ten - killed by Eleonora Gallows
17th: Miller Wheat, District Nine - killed by Beta Binary  
18th: Polly Harper, District Nine - killed by Midas Gold
19th: Carlson Silk, District Eight - killed by Row Yaxley 
20th: Rowena Harrow, District Seven - killed by Lorena Aurum 
22nd: Eden Sparks, District Five - killed by Midas Gold  
23rd: Peyton Weather, District Five - killed by Row Yaxley 
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ao3feed--destiel · 4 years
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by heyshalina
Sam’s eyebrow twitches. He’s always been half-something. His entire life, Sam was always at best half himself. But there was always Dean – whole, loud, larger than life. Sam looks at him now, slack mouth and hung head, and sees nothing. A vast emptiness where his brother should be, and the void of it fills Sam with unshakable rage.
Words: 20254, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Gallows Pole
Fandoms: Supernatural
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: Gen
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Michael (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Rowena MacLeod, Charlie Bradbury
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Additional Tags: Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Torture, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Recovery, Gen or Pre-Slash, Magic, selective/trauma induced mutism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s14e09 The Spear
via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'
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ao3feed-castiel · 4 years
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Tongues of Lilting Grace
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bVDwKj
by heyshalina
Sam’s eyebrow twitches. He’s always been half-something. His entire life, Sam was always at best half himself. But there was always Dean – whole, loud, larger than life. Sam looks at him now, slack mouth and hung head, and sees nothing. A vast emptiness where his brother should be, and the void of it fills Sam with unshakable rage.
Words: 20254, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Gallows Pole
Fandoms: Supernatural
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: Gen
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Michael (Supernatural), Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Rowena MacLeod, Charlie Bradbury
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Additional Tags: Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Torture, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Aftermath of Possession, Angst, Recovery, Gen or Pre-Slash, Magic, selective/trauma induced mutism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s14e09 The Spear
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3bVDwKj
0 notes