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goldenraeofsun · 2 years

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Day 14: All for you

One of these days, Dean is going to break the Good Guy Code and straight-up murder the Angel.

“You can’t kill him,” Sam says wearily as he takes pieces of Dean’s body armor to pack away in its special case.

“Just watch me.”

Sam rolls his eyes, frowning as Dean hands him the chestplate. “Is this a bullet hole?”

“It’s a dent from a bullet.”

“You said it didn’t get you!”

“I said I wasn’t hurt, which is true.” Dean sits on the couch in Sam’s home office to wrestle off his combat boots. He straightens up just to get hit with bitchface #5.

“Vigilantism has no room for semantics,” Sam says, also very bitchily.

Dean grimaces. “Are we done here?”

Sam waves him off, and Dean stalks up to his room.

The old Winchester mansion shows its age in the creaky stairs, dusty corners, and windows permanently fogged over with grime.

To the rest of the world, the Winchester heirs gave up their fortune to various charities (not that their millions-bordering-on-a-billion did enough). Sam, the youngest, went to medical school to become a stand up member of society. The oldest, though, he squandered the rest they had left on extravagant vacations and lavish parties.

Dean flops down on his bed with a groan. Only three years as a vigilante, and he feels thirty years older. Sammy’s going to have to replace both his knees soon. And maybe a hip.

Maybe Sammy should just take all his bones out at this point and replace them with titanium. Dean would finally be able to keep up with the Angel, at least.

He rolls over, staring up at the mahogany ceiling of his bedroom.

The Angel blew into Lawrence a year ago, packed full of super strength and badass feathered wings, making cryptic remarks about divine plans for humanity and shit. Within a month, he got a fanclub/religious cult to follow him around and give the guy a complex the size of Niagara Falls.

Dean simply added him to his villain-of-the-week list – until the Angel blinded fifteen fishermen in the harbor. He said it was the work of “demons”, but all Dean knew was that the crew went out to sea with all their eyeballs intact and came back with 20/infinity vision.

Six months ago, the psycho escalated to setting an entire neighborhood on fire to kill an apparent “witch”.

Dean stopped him in time, but it was a close fucking call.

This year, though, the Angel abruptly changed his tune. Dean used to catch him kidnapping random civilians and the occasional assault. Now, he’s far more likely to find him rescuing cats from trees and Timmy from down the well. It makes Dean’s blood boil.

What the hell is he up to?

The question has been circling Dean’s brain for far too long.

* * *

Dean ducks out of the gala, checking his phone for police alerts.

“Mr. Winchester!”

Dean swiftly pockets his phone and turns, plastering a bland smile on his face before he sees the newcomer. “Oh, it’s you,” he says sourly.

Cas hurries up the marble stairs, dodging other departing patrons, sticking out like a sore thumb in his boxy trench coat and off-the-rack suit among all the tuxedos and designer gowns. “Do you have a comment about tonight’s fundraiser?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Can’t you make one up?”

Cas bristles, all offended like he gets every time Dean tells him to get lost or pass off someone else’s words as Dean’s. “That would violate my journalistic integrity.”

“Dude, you cover human interest puff pieces,” Dean says scornfully. “Nobody cares.”

“I care,” Cas says, stung.

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “For fifteen grand a plate, the shrimp was dry.” He raises an eyebrow. “Happy?”

Cas makes a face like Dean personally force fed him a dozen dry-ass shrimp. “That’s hardly a –”

“That’s all you’re getting,” Dean says sternly.

Cas – Castiel – Carpenter has been a pain in his ass since he caught up with Dean outside Dick Roman’s last New Years Eve party. He hounded Dean for a quote, following him all the way from Roman’s lobby to the street, waiting with Dean for his car to arrive. He kept asking about Roman’s plans to scrap affordable housing developments near the river in favor of luxury condos.

Dean, with a few too many drinks in his stomach, told him Roman could learn a thing or two from the Scooby Gang. Real estate scams never seem to end well in Carver City.

The Winchesters, of course, already had a plan for Roman. Top lawyers, paid through a shell company owned by a shell company based in the Caymans, were already compiling environmental impact reports, and Dean had plans to visit Roman’s penthouse and perhaps dangle him off it, if he didn’t see things Dean's way.

Cas, the sly son of a bitch, hadn’t even printed a word of their discussion, and Dean only found out Cas covered the goddamn gossip pages the next weekend as he scanned the paper for Cas’s byline at two in the morning after a late night run-in with the Angel.

“Mr. Winchester –”

“I’m a busy man,” Dean says coldly as he shoulders past Cas. “If you need to talk to me, you know my PR number.”

Cas falls back, scowling fiercely. “I know you have something to say, Dean!” he calls to his back.

“Get your clickbait somewhere else!”

Dean has places to be and ass to kick, no matter how many times Cas bats those baby blues his way.

* * *

Dean groans, since when did Crowley have the kind of funds to hire these goons? The last he heard, Crowley's mayoral campaign was hemorrhaging money, and Crowley was spending every cent on voter suppression and scare tactics to get his base to the voting booths.

Dean staggers into the storage unit warehouse, clutching a hand to his side where a lucky knife got between the plates of his body armor. He stays alert – a dozen of Crowley’s henchmen tried to take him out and failed, but that doesn’t mean another dozen aren’t waiting in the shadows.

Charlie’s algorithm traced vast amounts of Crowley’s remaining cash to holding five storage units, paying top dollar for quality and security.

Whatever the hell Crowley is keeping here, it’s valuable.

And valuable to Crowley means indispensable to anyone else.

Dean slumps towards the first locker, breathing heavily. His head pounds, and the overhead lights flare as he glances around, trying to get his bearings.

He mentally adds a concussion to his tally of injuries. Sam’s going to have his work cut out for him tonight, if Dean gets home at all.

He reaches into his toolbelt, and his fingers scramble for his set of lockpicks for too long. How the hell he’ll be able to manipulate the delicate tools – well, that’s a bridge to cross when the lock itself stops swaying in front of his eyes.

The blow from behind hits him out of nowhere.

Dean falls forward with a grunt, his ears ringing.

“The vigilante himself,” an unfamiliar voice sneers. “What an honor.”

The next hit cracks the side of Dean’s reinforced cowl, and his ears ring with the force of it. He scrabbles back to his feet, widening his stance on an instinct honed from years of practice. He’s still as wobbly as a newborn kitten, but at least he doesn’t look it.

The man wears a uniform of the warehouse staff, but there’s nothing minimum wage security guard about the way he fights hand-to-hand.

A flurry of blows rain down on Dean, his head, his neck, his chest. The body armor in his suit can only absorb so much of the impact, and Dean’s losing ground, quickly, backed up against a concrete wall.

He has one taser left, though. At his next opening, he dodges a right hook and jams the metal disk against the goon’s neck.

He spasms with a crackle of electricity, and falls to the floor to reveal –

“Fuck,” Dean swears loudly, swinging his fists up to protect his face, not that they’ll do much against superstrength.

But it takes his sluggish brain a soupy moment to realize the Angel's hands aren't raised in fists gunning for his face.

The Angel’s palms reach up to cup his cheeks, and Dean winces, squeezing his eyes shut against the harsh light that always pours out of the Angel’s eye sockets, obscuring his entire face.

“You’re injured,” the Angel murmurs in his otherworldly voice that makes Dean’s chest vibrate with an uncomfortable resonance.

“Nothin’ slips by you, does it?” Dean forces out because, even when he has nothing left, he still has his pride.

The Angel pulls back Dean's cowl, and Dean tries to push the Angel off him, but he might as well be trying to wrestle with a concrete wall. The Angel intones, “This might feel strange.”

“No…” Dean protests, and, god, if these are his last words, they sound pathetic.

“Shh, Dean,” the Angel says, and he doesn’t sound at all surprised by the sight of Dean’s face. Two fingers press against his bare forehead, and Dean jerks away instinctively, but can’t move a hair in the Angel’s firm grip.

A cool, almost rain-like sensation trickles out from the point of contact.

Dean opens his eyes.

Is the light pouring out from the Angel dimming?

Dean’s definitely seeing more clearly now, and the pounding in his head has disappeared. With mounting confusion, he watches as the Angel’s high beam eyes flicker like a bad television signal.

His face – Dean only sees a flash or two, but he would swear –

The Angel stumbles back a step, and Dean straightens, inhaling a painless lungful of air. “What the hell just happened?” he demands.

The Angel shakes his head, and his wings flicker next. They pop back into existence in the space of a blink. Like a lamp on it’s last legs, the beams of light emitting from his eyes give a few weak flares before dying out completely.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes.

Cas sags against the opposite wall, his wings disappearing for good with a silent breath of air. Whatever he'd done to Dean had drained him.

“You –”

Cas stares up at him. “Me,” he agrees quietly.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Dean demands. “You’re – you’re –” He can’t say it.

Cas pushes himself to his feet, his face pallid and eyes weary. “I’m an angel of the lord.”

Dean can’t help his loud snort. “You’re still sticking with that?”

“It’s the truth.”

Dean lays a hand on his utility belt, eyeing Cas warily. He might look as threatening as a belly-up hedgehog, but experience has taught Dean that some opponents are never more dangerous than when they’re cornered.

“If you’re a real angel,” Dean says stiffly, “why are you here? Why now?”

“I was sent here to start the apocalypse,” Cas says.

Dean narrows his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“I don’t joke.”

Dean steps closer, scanning Cas for any sign of an impending fight. “You wanna give me a reason not to end you right here and now?”

But Cas stays right where he is. “Those were my orders. But when I arrived on Earth, I had my doubts.”

“It was you – the blind fishermen,” Dean says coldly, “that incident on Halloween.”

Cas nods miserably. “Mistakes, all of them.”

“I couldn’t figure out what was up with you,” Dean admits. “You went from nabbing Patty Hearst in December to landing broken planes in the river in January.”

Cas tilts his head. “Because of you.”

Dean can’t have heard that right. But as Dean lets the silence drag on, Cas doesn’t take it back or explain. Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You showed me humanity is worth saving,” Cas says, his voice almost painfully sincere. “So I disobeyed my orders. I turned my back on Heaven. I followed in your footsteps.” He meets Dean’s stunned gaze squarely. “I did it all for you.”

“I – what?”

“You care so much for this city, for your people,” Cas continues, and Dean, torn between telling him to keep going or shut the hell up, stays silent. Cas goes on, “You regularly put yourself in harm’s way to protect them, usually from themselves. You donate enormous sums of money and manipulate an extremely complicated political machine to make sure they have safe water to drink and places to rest.”

Dean rubs the back of his neck, muttering, “Somebody’s gotta.” He jerks his head up. “Hold on, you knew it was me? The whole time?”

“Why do you think I was so hellbent on talking to you?” Cas asks dryly, the faintest of blushes dusting his cheeks.

“And I always thought it was because of my perky nipples,” Dean says distractedly. All those times Cas hollered questions about the latest government developments; where his next grant was going; who he was backing in the mayoral race. That was the Angel.

“I’m, uh, sure they’re very perky,” Cas says awkwardly.

Dean narrows his eyes. “How’d you find out?”

Cas cocks his head, his blue eyes intense as they study Dean’s face. “Your soul. It’s unlike any other I’ve encountered in the way it shines.”

Dean swallows, embarrassed of all things. “You can see souls?”

Cas nods. “Yours as well as the five people behind these storage locker doors.”

Dean freezes. “What the fuck?” He stares, horrified at the closest one, his hand already pulling out his set of lockpicks. “You’re serious?” At Cas’s confused nod, Dean swears colorfully. “And you kept talkin’ like we’re on a Sunday drive?”

As Dean ducks down to get to work on the first lock, Cas says matter-of-factly, “None of Crowley’s victims are near death. They’ve all been fed and watered recently, and eleven more minutes won’t have a great effect on their physical or mental health.”

“Alright, Patrick Bateman,” Dean says, but the accusation lacks any heat, “Superhero Rule Number One: you always get the damsels out of distress first.”

“I understand.”

Dean glances up at him as the lock clicks open. “After this, you and me, we’re gonna have a long talk.” He huffs a laugh as he pulls his cowl back up. “You want to know what I think about this city? I’ll give you enough quotes to fill a bible.”

“I might hold you to that,” Cas murmurs as Dean heaves the metal door open.

Read the sequel here!

#suptober22 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #superhero au #superhero dean #superhero castiel #doctor sam #rich dean #journalist castiel #enemies to lovers #rae writes fic

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dramioneasks · 7 months

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Matching a Malfoy By: LittleSixx - M, WIP - As a prominent war reporter and news anchor with political ambition, Hermione Granger needs to make significant changes to her public persona. Her publicist signs her up for Malfoy Matchmaking, known equally for their success and discretion. At the same time, Narcissa Malfoy has finally acquired the biggest client of her career: her widowed son.

#author: littlesixx #wip #hermione: journalist #matchmaking #angst #romance #narcissa #draco: widower #matchmaker: narcissa #scorpius #draco: lgbt #side pairing: blaise x dean #blaise x dean #draco: single parent

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mariocki · 1 month

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Pathfinders in Space (ABC, 1960)

"Now, the remainder of us have fifteen hours of oxygen left. That leaves fifteen hours in which to complete our research here."

"Well, what's the good of all that if you can't come back with it?"

"The moon never destroys her treasures, Henderson. We shall leave a record and it'll be preserved in the vacuum of the caves. And the future expeditions you mentioned, they will find it."

#pathfinders in space #1960 #children's television #classic tv #abc #malcolm hulke #eric paice #guy verney #peter williams #gerald flood #harold goldblatt #richard dean #gillian ferguson #stewart guidotti #pamela barney #irene sutcliffe #hugh evans #astor sklair #michael guest #the first sequel to the seminal (and sadly entirely lost) serial Target Luna; for reasons best known to the production team‚ despite being #a direct sequel with the same characters‚ every major role was recast for Pathfinders (and so sadly we don't get to see a young Michael #Craze). often described as a precursor to DW‚ and honestly that's hard to deny: this might be the first uk kids sci fi serial to really #nail that family friendly vibe‚ with enough interest for both children and adult viewers alike. it's a rare gift that it exists complete #and finally getting to it i found it a genuinely compelling series. it can be a little cheesy and a little silly in places (adorably‚ our #astronauts take a full tea service to the moon and regularly stop for tea) but i actually ended up learning some stuff about the moon from #this 64 yr old series. Gerald Flood's everyman journalist is a nicely constructed audience avatar but it's missing cheese expert Peter #Williams who gives the orders (and regularly imperils his own children). a lot of fun! well worth seeking out for old tv fans #also needless to say the various miniatures and fx work is frankly adorable.#and shoutout to Prof Mary Meadows‚ it's nice to have a kickass lady scientist in a show this old (and who remains cooler and more capable #than her male counterparts on more than one occasion).

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angelsdean · 6 months

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plagued with too many fic ideas i'll never write (bc it takes me like 2.5 yrs to write a long fic RIP)

#thinking abt another one. well it isn't a new one. but i'm thinking abt it again and MORE.#actual wips that are in-progress: hey nineteen sequel (postcanon cas time-traveling to various points in dean's life to offer comfort)#and thee divorce arc stanford era time-travel au #fic ideas that are fully outlined: faith dean / gas n sip steve AU #fics ideas bouncing around my head like ping pong balls:#shapeshifter dean AU #black hole angel theory #sequel-prequel to thee divorce arc stanford era time-travel AU #destiel huntercorp AU #video store AU #single dads AU #many more hey nineteen-verse sequels of different times post-canon cas time-travels to #AU i don't know how to describe succinctly for a tumblr tag but basically deancas are both lonely in the woods and fall in love #^ an alternate version of that AU where only dean is lonely in the woods and cas is a lonely scientist in Antarctica and they're pen pals #rock band AU (team free will broke up and now cas is a sad solo artist)#enemies to lovers band AU where dean is a rock star and cas is an undercover journalist sent in to hashtag expose him but they fall in love #AU were canonverse cas rescues another universe's dean from hell bc not all of chucks worlds had a cas in them to rescue him #didn't know they were dating canonverse post empty-rescue AU (aka destiel have a weekly 'date night' but no they don't whaddya mean??)#some form of a fake dating AU #also some form of a two person love triangle AU #both are two of my favorite tropes #anyways there's def more i'm forgetting rn but. i would love to just automatically transfer the movies playing in my head onto the page

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sscarletvenus · 28 days

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the university which administers the Pulitzer prizes is not allowing press on campus, to make sure nobody on-site can document what is happening.

the nypd threatened student journalists qnd their dean with arrest if they leave a building named after Joseph Pulitzer.

at this point it isn't even worth remarking on the sheer horror, the baffling irony of it all.

entire new york roads have been closed to traffic so that nobody can prevent the world's largest police force's brutalization of students protesting THEIR tution fres and tax dollars contributing to killing kids.

all of this to... keep investing in an apartheid regime.

Columbia University would rather risk their students getting murdered than divest from genocide...

#may we see the us fall in our lifetimes #palestine #gaza #free palestine #free gaza #gaza genocide #gaza strip #genocide #usa #yemen #iran #current events #current news #columbia university #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

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lifewithaview · 11 months

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MacGyver (1985-1992) The Gauntlet

S1E4

In the opening gambit, Mac gets a map with a troublesome Arab regime's plans from a heavily guarded garrison and uses its cleverly as main tool for his surprise escape. In the main story, Mac is sent by a publisher to retrieve press photographer Kate Connelly from a corrupt Central American country, but she insists to finish her assignment first, so he helps her exposing the secret police chief, General Antonio Vasquez, who is suspected to plan a coup, making a secret arms deal with mobster Dave Ryerson, an old adversary of Mac. They are caught, but Mac uses all his tricks to escape and get the photos out too, impressive enough to turn her into a frisky friend, while the army uses all its resource to chase them to the Mexican border stream...

#MacGyver #1985 #tv series #The Gauntlet #S1E4 #Kate Connelly #journalist #central america #mobster #dictator #general #corruption #action #adventure #crime #just rewatched #Richard Dean Anderson #Robin Curtis

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neil-gaiman · 18 days

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Curiosity is getting the best of me, and truly I’d love to hear your opinion on this.

When I dig into horror, macabre, paranormal, terror, or dark themed writing (whether it’s writing or screen adaptations) I always have the same results.

Writers and artists such as yourself, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, etc. are always mentioned. And I mean that with true respect. But, I’m always disappointed that Clive Barker is either rarely mentioned, barely looked at, or never even acknowledged when it comes to horror works. Granted, writers such as yourselves don’t entirely focus on horror.

But, I feel Barker is snubbed or just shrugged off a lot of the time. I still feel he’s not appreciated so much, other than the horror film fan community always giving him praise.

Since you both seemed to be good colleagues (from assumption, which I could be wrong), do you think his works are overlooked?

I mean….his writing is more than just the Hellbound Heart. Or as people reading these fan mail asks would more properly know it by, the horror movie adaptation Hellraiser (1987).

I don't read much any more about horror, which means I have no idea what people are saying these days about Clive or me or Stephen King or Arthur Machen or Robert Aickman or Lisa Tuttle or anybody really.

For me, the six Books of Blood and The Damnation Game were formative literature, and meeting Clive in 1984 when we were both babies was inspiring. I was on set as a journalist when Hellraiser was being shot -- hell, I was on set when Clive Barker's Underworld (1985) was being shot. You can read my interview with Clive from 1988 in the book Clive Barker: Shadows in Eden.

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blackwoodbanshee · 2 years

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Thinking about the gilmore girls talked bad about linkin park and italian food. Rude..Well noone from gilmore girls is in twilight italian food and linkin park are in twilight so...

#idk #gilmore girls were pretty arrogant about lots of stuff and always wailing in self pity somehow rory had all the chances in the world and...#gilmore girls #those were some of the rudest things also how they treated dean winchesters brother whoa #lorelai should have married that max teacher guy 😬 then have an affair with luke then get back with max #rory should have travelled europe as a travel journalist and married a french guy or so #rory in paris travel blogger spin off

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intersectionalpraxis · 2 months

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Palestinian journalist, Maha Hussaini posted a picture from Euro-Med Rights Monitor with the caption: "3 University Presidents and 95 University Deans and Professors have been killed by Israel in Gaza" [7 October 2023 - 20 March 2024]

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acewritesfics · 2 months

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All a Fantasy | Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Hunter!FemReader

Request: Yes from Wattpad.

Synopsis: Reader is under a Djinn's power. Her fantasy life involves one of her best friends.

Warnings: None really. Mentions of supernatural beings. Maybe one swear word.

Word Count: 2,205

Main Masterlist

Y/N is cooking breakfast when Dean walks into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and coffee having woken him up from his deep slumber. He gives her a sweet kiss good morning before grabbing himself a mug and filling it with coffee.

Today both of them vowed to take the day off from their jobs. Their work schedules have been hectic over the last few weeks that they haven't had a day off together in three weeks. Dean, a mechanic working in his father's understaffed garage is picking up as many hours as he can without overworking himself and Y/N working as a journalist for the local newspaper, preferring writing over being on tv, found herself covering more than just her own column due to a nasty stomach bug going around the office.

"How'd you sleep?" Y/N asks her husband of 6 years. They started dating when she was 19 and he was 23 but they've known each other since she was five when Bobby Singer and his wife adopted her. Bobby is best friends with Dean's father John. Her and Dean's younger brother, Sam became instant best friends being the same age. Growing up she did have a little crush on Dean but it faded over time. It wasn't until he visited her and Sam in university one weekend that things changed for the two childhood friends. Dean didn't see her as the annoying little girl who is best friends with his baby brother. Instead he saw her as a beautiful young woman who knows what she wants and where she wants to be in life. He fell in love with her hard and fast. They got married three years after they started dating.

"So good. That massage worked amazingly. Best I've slept in weeks," he admits, sitting across from her at the kitchen island while she cooks the last few pieces of bacon. The night before she came home to a romantic dinner and a bubble bath. She repaid his romantic gesture with a back massage which led to something a lot more intimate. Dean isn't big on romance but it doesn't mean he doesn't try to make an effort to be romantic. He can be very romantic when he wants to be.

"I'm glad it worked," she smiles placing the last two strips of bacon onto a plate of food and places it in front of him before grabbing her own plate and sitting next to him.

As they eat they talk about what they should do for the day and agree to putting their phones on silent and going for a drive and seeing where the road will take them, making sure to be back in time for dinner with their parents. Tonight they plan to announce that they are expecting their first child. Sam, who was out of town for work, already knows about the pregnancy. Him and Jess, his wife, were there for lunch when Y/N got the call from her doctor confirming the pregnancy.

Once they finished breakfast, Dean cleaned up the dishes while Y/N got ready for their road trip. She was excited and happy to be spending the day with Dean, no interruptions, relaxing as they take a ride in Baby, the beloved Chevy Impala John gifted him when he graduated high school. Many memories have been made in that car with many more to be made.

When they were both ready, they lock up the house and get into the car, starting their drive out of town.

They'd been driving around for an hour when Dean pulls into the car park of what looks like an abandoned play area. The grass is slightly overgrown like if hasn't been mowed in months, maybe even a year or two. There's a slight chill in the air as they get out of the car and move to sit on the hood. Dean notices her shiver a little and wraps an arm around her shoulders, bringing her in closer to him.

It's quiet, far too quiet for her liking. The only sounds they hear is their own breathing. There are no sounds of birds chirping or any other sound you would hear while out in nature. Y/N finds it a little too eerie but feels perfectly safe in her husbands arms as he holds her close.

Until she hears her name whispered quiet enough to only just be able to hear it. She lifts her head to look around as if she is going to find someone else there. But no one is. She shrugs it off thinking she might've been hearing things.

"You wanna know the exact moment I knew I was in love with you?" Dean asks, bringing her attention back to him. She looks at him slightly confused. He has told her many times about that moment. He mentioned it in his wedding speech.

"Have you been lying about it this whole time," she jokes looking up at him.

"No," he smiles down at her and kisses her, sweetly. Both of them feeling like the luckiest people in the world.

The kiss starts to heat up when Y/N abruptly pulls away from him, hearing her name amongst the wind but it's louder this time and sounds like it's coming from behind her. She can feel the confusion and concern in Dean's gaze as she whips around to see where the voice came from.

"What's wrong?" He questions, his voice matching the look in his eyes.

"You didn't hear that?" She asked.

"Hear what?" Dean asks her.

"I swear someone just called my name," she tells him facing him again, but instead of looking at him, she's still looking around the open field looking for the source of her name being called. "You aren't trying to pull some trick on me, right?"

"I didn't hear anything and I swear I'm not pulling any tricks," he places his hands on her shoulders and pulls her closer trying to reassure her. He didn't know what was happening. "Maybe we should get out of here. It is a little creepy."

She nods agreeing with him and moves to get back into the impala when her name is called once again but this time it sounds from right behind her and it sounds a lot like Dean's voice. She quickly turns on her heel again hoping to catch whoever is there.

Shock fills her when she sees Dean but this Dean is different, aside from the different clothes he's wearing. She looks back to her Dean who doesn't seem shocked but angry and then moves her gaze back to the other Dean.

"Y/N, you need to wake up. None of it is real," the new Dean pleads with her, scaring and confusing her even more. Her eyes fill with tears as she feels as though she is going to faint. She feels as if she's delusional.

"No you don't," her husband Dean speaks up, glaring at the other Dean. "You can stay here, we can have our baby and live the life we both wish and dream of. The normal jobs, the kids, no monsters, not so much death and destruction. This is what you want. We can have it all, baby. Everything you wish for."

Her confused and terrified gaze lands on her husband. "What are you talking about?"

"It isn't real, Y/N." New Dean says again.

"But it can be," her Dean smiles, the look in his eyes loving and reassuring.

Something switches inside of her as if she's remembering a lot of forgotten memories. She sees Dean but it's the Dean who's trying to convince her none of this is real. It's them travelling with his father and his brother, hunting down things that are only written in lore books. She sees Bobby teaching her how to shoot a gun, how to draw a devils trap, and to speak Latin.

"What's happening?" She cries out looking between the two Deans.

"You need to wake up," Dean number two tells her. "It's killing you. The longer you stay there the more the Djinn is feeding off you."

"Djinn?" She says her voice barely above a whisper as images flash in her mind of her entering an abandoned building alone and being captured by something.

"You know you want to stay Y/N. This is after all what you dream about. This is what you want, what you crave. This is your happy ever after. Would you really give this up?" Dean number one questions.

"This isn't real," she replies quietly to herself. "This isn't what I want because it's not real. It's not real."

She closes her eyes hearing Dean call her name but she can't tell which one. Only a few seconds go by before her eyes shoot open and she's gasping for air.

"Hey, hey, hey, breathe," Dean's voice sounds from above her. It's then she notices she's in the real Dean's arms, his eyes are flooded with fright, concern and relief.

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, taking comfort in her closest friends arms. "Dean?"

"I'm here, sweetheart," he continues to reassure her.

"It wasn't real, none of it was real," she says through deep breaths, a part of her grieving for the life she could have if things had been different.

"I know," he continues to hold her and kisses the top of her head.

A loud screech came from another room making the both of them jump. Dean let's her go and stands up before helping her to stand. He takes her hand and they leave the room meeting Sam at the doorway, the younger of the brothers worried look turning to one of relief seeing his best friend alive with only a few bumps and bruises.

"Let's get out of here," the younger man says. Dean and Y/N agrees, nodding their heads and follow Sam out of the building and to the impala.

A few hours later, Y/N and the Winchesters are in a new town, hunkering down in a new hotel room. Sam is out getting food for them while Y/N and Dean are in the bathroom. She's sitting on the counter next to the sink, medical supplies and a bottle of Jack Daniels next to her. She winces as Dean presses a cotton ball dipped in alcohol to the small cut an inch or so above her eye, cleaning off the dried blood.

"Sorry," Dean apologises moving the now stained red cotton ball away from her skin to check the cut. He was glad to see it was shallow enough to not need actual stitches. He puts a dressing over it to keep it clean and prevent it from getting infected before moving on to the bruise that was forming on her left cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asks her noticing she's been awfully quiet since they left the warehouse where the Djinn kept its victims captive.

"Yeah," she nods. "Just remind me to never get caught by a Djinn again. Those assholes really know how to fuck with your head."

He nods his head in agreement, remembering his own encounter with a Djinn. "You want to talk about it?"

She takes a deep breath in and out before shaking her head. "I don't think there's anything to talk about. Hunters don't get to have a life with a marriage, kids and an actual home. They don't get to live their lives oblivious to the monsters in the dark. They don't get normal jobs with normal hours and normal wages. So why bother talking about it?"

"Hey," Dean said gently grasping her chin between his fingers making her look at him before wiping away her tears that she didn't realise were there. "If you really want all that, it's not too late to get out of this lifestyle."

"But it is," she disagrees with him. "I was trained in this lifestyle just as much as you were. I don't know anything other than how we live. And even if I could give this up. I know what's out there and I can't just sit by and let good and innocent people get killed by all those monsters we hunt. If saving people from the unknown means I have to give up my fantasy of us getting married, having our own family and a stable home with stable jobs and all that other apple pie life stuff, then I'll give it all up time and time again."

Dean looks at her with wide surprised eyes. "Your fantasy is us, you and I," his finger points at her before he points it at himself, "getting married and having a family?"

Her eyes go equally as wide and surprised as his when she realises what she said. "I didn't mean us. I meant... I-"

Dean's lips crashing to hers cuts off her rambling and any thought she was trying to come up with. It didn't take long for her to kiss back, her brain registering that this is actually happening.

After what feels like minutes but was only seconds, Dean pulls away but keeps his face close to hers, his lips barely brushing her lips.

"That's my fantasy too," he admits before kissing her again.

#Supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader

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redclercs · 11 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

INTERLUDE: this is why we can't have nice things.

— the one where everybody's waiting to see the fall out.

warnings: this is basically like the INTRO chapter with all media, we're going to pretend publications and broadcast timings are not mistaken or fake, okay? ok. am i myself if i don't mention taylor swift in every chapter? no. foul language.

masterlist ✢ next

By Tom Gill // June 23rd

Vic Presley confirms y/n hasn't reached out to her even after Vic called asked her to in a publication a few days ago.

"I think she has blocked my number by now," Presley said, "I am devastated by this. I didn't think it was like her to discard relationships so easily."

Presley and y/ln have been friends since 2020, when they met at the opening of the SENSE Club in downtown Los Angeles and quickly became inseparable.

"y/n really was— is my best friend. I miss her and I want her to come back to me."

Vic Presley also commented on y/n's split from Aidan Kim in her own way: "I hate that she hurt Aidan. I was not aware they had so many problems, that's definitely the kind of stuff you tell your best friend."

y/n was spotted just a week ago with alleged (and constantly denied) boyfriend, Charles Leclerc on a stroll around Central Park. Victoria Presley couldn't help but speak her mind on this.

"y/n has changed so much since she met that guy. I met him in Miami and Monaco, he's not one of the good ones. He's managing to isolate her from everyone who loves her."

Once again, Victoria urges y/n to contact her so they can rekindle their friendship. "I am not angry at her, disappointed maybe. But I will always have my arms open for her."