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queenofgoats · 3 years

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Shadows & Fears | Imagine having a date with Crowley

Summary: You’re the lucky human being who dived deep into the SPN Universe. Unfortunately you fell in royal demonic hands. So let’s see how you will get out.

Characters | !no pairs! : Crowley x Reader (gender not mentioned)

Word Count: 2.708

Warning: angst, alcohol, flirtations and words = just spn ;), no cheesy romance stuff

A/N: So. It's been a long, long time since I wrote a FF at all. And it’s my very first in english - so please be gentle. ;) I had a lot of fun while writing and hope whoever is gonna read it enjoys it at least a little bit. Feedback is very welcome.

Have fun! :)

You were led through endless corridors. Which was hardly lighted up or even heated. Only in the last room at the end of the hall you could just guess a warm, flickering light. The thought of what was behind door 3 made you freeze. “Hey, what is the... OH COME ON!” you were shouted at. You didn’t dare to move. Like a deer in the face of the light at a highway. A rough grib on the upper arm forced you to go on. Your breath became heavier. Faltering. Would the brothers come and save you? At the door frame you stuck again. You couldn’t, no, you didn't want to go in there. This would be your end.

And you were so careful. No involvement in the cases, at most some background research. Even to Sam and Dean you didn’t mention a word about their fate, however difficult it was. And damn it, it did! Still, you knew that it was only a matter of time before the bubble burst. You just wanted a coke from the vending machine at the motel. As if out of nowhere they suddenly stood behind you. Two middle-aged men, really nondescript-looking and before your lips could even form a “help”, you found yourself in the back of a minivan. They were fast, strong and scary quiet. You didn’t know what happened to you until you saw these deep pitch black eyes in the rearview mirror. This couldn’t be true! Your thoughts circled around wildly, blurred and sheer panic ran through you like a poison, which slowly spreads in your nervous system. You knew these creatures very well. How they worked, what they drove or what they were capable of. And you knew him. So far from stories from Winchester or television. That alone was enough to make your blood run cold just imagine what's ahead of you. Various breakdowns later, you were already standing in this old freezer - probably an old slaughterhouse. He loved the atmosphere.

Again the grib at your arm. But this time you stucked. Everything in you resisted. The demon right next you groaned. Apparently babysitting wasn't in his payroll. His face reflected disgust and a certain… overwhelming? “Finally, we meet. Birdie.” This voice. This damn, damn voice. Your eyes squeezed tight, you hoped it was just an imagination. Or maybe you weren't meant. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Slowly he came closer. His presence crushed you, while your body wouldn’t stop shaking. You have never faced anything so dark and threatening. A hand on your back made you wince. It barely touched the fabric of your top and yet it resembled an iron grip. You blinked open your eyes, the gaze fixed on the floor. A pair of very elegant lace-ups with fine lyra perforations caught your attention. You swallowed.

The king of hell pushed you into the room surprisingly gently and yet firmly. Closing the door made you flinch. You were terrified. So incredibly terrified. “Please, sit down. Don't be shy, my dear. " Breathing heavily, you complied with his request. It was a miracle that you could even hear his words over your hard pounding heartbeat. Crowley was one of your favorite baddies. You hated how he left the show. But you never wanted to meet him. For obvious reasons. The demon took a seat next to you at a large table. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that one of his peasants stood by the door. The fire in the fireplace slowly thawed you again, but you still shivered. If not at the hand of this monster, you would probably die of pneumonia. You couldn't decide which was better. “Soo...” Crowley started smoothly voiced and as if caught you looked up at him. “We both know why you are here, it’s up to you if we stay in this chilly atmosphere or...” He smirked slightly.

His hazel eyes drilled through yours, you felt like he was looking straight into your heart. While his voice was so calming and gentle. In fact, if it weren't Crowley himself, you'd find some pleasure in it. You became disturbed by your own thoughts. Focus! For the first time in your suddenly short life you looked at him. Or more at his absolute charming vessel. You got a feel for why he was called the King of Crossroads. A sigh escaped your lips. You took a quick look at the second demon on the door and leaned slightly towards Crowley. Breathe in. Exhale.

“Fine. I’m talking. But! Just under one condition.” you tried to sound professional and acted businesslike. You had a plan. Kind of. But you weren't allowed to show any weaknesses for that. You also saw these kinds of conversations so often in tv shows. You could do it! A twitch of the corner of his mouth indicated that you hit a point. Crowley didn't like arguing. Let alone from a simple human being like you. And yet he looked as if he had expected it. “Of course you have.” he mumbled almost bored. He grabbed himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip without leaving his eyes on you. “That would be? Let me guess y...” “I want a date!” you interrupted him hectically. Crowley spat the drink across the desk: “A what?!” He didn’t even bother to hide his surprise. “With whom?” “You.” There was silence for a short moment. The king of hell looked at you in disbelief. He really didn't expect that: “Why? What for?" You first took a look at the demon at the door, who didn't twist a mine, and then back to Crowley. “When I have told you everything, you kill me afterwards. That's ... okay I guess. But I don't want to die here in this hole. I want to shower, look good, and... be alone with you. A one-to-one conversation. Then you will find out everything you want to know.” You tried to smile triumphantly. “A good deal. For both, right?”

Actually you didn’t lie here. There will be no way to survive this. You’re not strong as the Winchesters, or smart like Kevin. So why not make the best of it? Maybe you can avoid having him face his destiny? Maybe Lucifer won't be released from his cage? Nobody except Crowley is allowed to hear this. Especially not one of the other demons. They would instant throw a welcome party for Abbadon. The king of hell stayed silent. Presumably he was wondering which part of your body to tear out first with his bare hands. He wasn’t exactly known for his patience. "I can tell you how you are going to die.“ you continued. For a brief moment he raised his eyebrows, but then he finally agreed: “Good. I choose the location."

You felt a painful sense of surprise and relief.

Just a few hours later your time had come. You stood visibly nervous in front of the entrance of a big old cinema. The fingers kept pulling your clothes into place. Shortly after your deal, a servant brought you to Berlin. There you were allowed to freshen up and get dressed. Everything under the demon's watchful eye, of course. Crowley himself should receive you later in front of the location, it was said. And now you’re here. Oh damn what were you thinking? Sighing heavily, you looked over your shoulder. Maybe you should dare and just run away? Was it worth trying? Did you really want to be led to the slaughter like a pig? A thousand questions buzzed through your head. Yesterday was just a moment of panic. Not really thought out. Somehow. You turned on your heel and were just about to start a run when you heard his voice behind you again: “Birdie! You shouldn’t even think about that. We had an appointment.”

His words sounded so soft and smooth like a good red wine. Crowley knew exactly how to use his british charme. You took another deep breath before turning to face him. A gentleman who would try, but couldn’t find his equals, Crowley smiled warmly and sweet. Yeah. Like good red wine. Soft and smooth. And poisoned. With an inviting gesture, he waved you over to him: “Let's have a drink, my dear. You look gorgeous by the way, really." He was different from when you first met him. Apparently he took his deals very seriously. You felt a bit like a prostitute's customer. You swallowed hard, but accepted his invitation.

First you entered a large reception room with sparse lighting.The ceiling was completely covered with small lamps that looked almost like a starry sky. While the old wood paneling made everything look a bit old and seedy. "The Kino International was built in the 1960s, right after they pulled up the big wall." Crowley broke the silence. There was a slight smile on his lips. “Oh well... I spent so many years in Germany,” he reminisced. As far as it was at all possible, you felt even more queasy.

A staircase took you to a large foyer in typical East German chic. Even if the brown dominated, it looked surprisingly classy. The chandeliers emitted pleasantly dimmed light, so that you could catch an overwhelming view of Berlin's landmark - the television tower - through the huge panorama windows. You are stunned.

~*~ Possession is the motivation ~*~ ~*~ That is hanging' up the God-damn nation ~*~

~*~ Looks like we always end up in a rut ~*~ ~*~ Tryin' to make it real, compared to what? ~*~

Roberta Flack's voice came to you calmly from the loudspeaker near the bar. If the initial situation were different, you would feel quite comfortable. Still astonished, you looked around as Crowley moved behind the counter. "What would you like to drink, my dear?" he broke your thoughts. “Erm... well... surprise me.” You sat down on one of the bar stools. The demon then rattled off all the barriers and drawers. Your eyes followed his movements until you blurted out: "I can't do this! Sorry!" Crowley furrowed his forehead: "What do you mean?" Desperately you threw your hands over your head. “This!” You bumped. "It’s ridiculous!"

You sighed. Hardly. “Are we really among ourselves here? Just you and me?" "Sure. As agreed." He said dryly as he handed you a freshly made cosmopolitan. You snatched the glass from him and drank the cocktail. In one sip. "Fine. Let’s do this." Then it literally gushed out of you. A long monologue about Abbadon, the darkness and everything that could be of interest to the king of hell. You only left out Chuck. Cause you already had Crowley on your neck and certainly didn't want to provoke God then.

The demon said nothing, just listened and at the same time seemed to be thinking about your words. When you were just finishing up, he put a new cocktail in front of you. Which you also emptied in one go. The nervousness just didn't want to be drunk away. "Mmh." he made. "Do the Winchesters know about it?" You shook your head. “Oleg and Bolek? Of course not." Knowing full well that they would only make it worse. As much as you loved the brothers, you knew that they were a danger to everyone around them. The confusion was written on Crowley's face: “But ... Why me? Don't get me wrong, Birdie, I'm honored and yet ... ” Inevitably you had to smile. "Let's be honest. You're probably the smartest being here. And you have the least interest of anybody else in seeing Lucifer free again. "Not untrue." he muttered. You tapped your finger on the edge of your glass: “Could I possibly get another one? Or wait! Better just the vodka. " Lost in thought, Crowley compiled while you listened to the well-chosen music.

With two glasses in hand, the king of hell stepped around the counter and sat down on one of the stools next to you. You knew you wouldn't leave this place alive. Nevertheless, a faint smile crept onto your lips. “You know Crowley, I like you. Somehow. You're practically my favorite baddie. " you started and held your glass out to him to toast," That's why I know what's in store for me. Still ... one more thing... or more a question." "Which would be? ... and cheers. ”, he checked. His gaze was on you. You couldn't help yourself because you suddenly felt comfortable around him. Safe. It was completely insane.

The vodka burned your throat. You shook yourself briefly and turned to face him. “Crowley, what if I die here? I mean I don't belong here. No more than a disruptive factor in an intact universe. Am I, my soul, going somewhere or ... am I stuck? " The thought has plagued you since you (unintentionally) set foot in this cursed universe. You knew you didn't belong here. Every fiber of your body lets you feel it. All the time. So far you haven't really been able to grasp the fear, but rather suppressed it. But now it was sitting in a heavy weight on your shoulders. A deep sadness took you. Tears welled up in your eyes. You leaned against the demon next to you. The head was put on his shoulder. You didn't want him to see you cry. Apparently you still have a bit of your pride left.

You heard Crowley sigh. “Birdie, I can't tell you that. I don't know." His hand landed on your knee. It was surprisingly soft and warm, but nevertheless you twitched. “I've never heard of anything like you before. I'm sorry, and it really is, I can't help you.” Was it really Crowley who offered you comfort? Crowley? With a heavy heart you straightened up again. The alcohol slowly got into your head. Finally You leaned towards him, very close to his face. His breath brushed your cheek. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck which leads to goosebumps. You were mildly aroused and then grimaced as soon as you noticed.

The demon looked irritated: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” You felt stupid. “I just... I thought. You’re far far out of my league. Forget it. Please.” You wrapped the arms around you and blushed. “I understand.” Crowley grinned. “Oh my sweet, sweet summer child.” He leaned back and studied you intently. “I don’t give a damn fuck about human current body preferences. It’s constantly changing anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m a demon, as you may remember, and all I desire is to spoil a pure soul beyond any recognition.” Embarrassed you thought about his words.

“Crowley...”, you began almost in a whisper, “would ... would you take my soul?” Hell didn't scare you nearly as much as the thought of your ghost going full vengeful in that old movie theater. He laughed. Loud. It was cold, arrogant and left you freezing. You felt it right down to the bones. "What should I do with it?" For the first time that evening, the demon came through him so clearly. You were afraid of him. More than ever before. You let him fool you. He leaned back in amusement and studied your shocked face. "Babe, your soul is useless." he said, still smirking and slid off his bar stool. "Another one?" he waved the glass. Ashamed you just nodded. You'd already got rejected dozent of times, but this was by far the worst.

Crowley prepared two glasses on the counter for you. The look he gave you was almost pityingly: "Oh Birdie, don't be like that now." Just slowly he moved back to you until he was right in front of you. "You are already useful." he whispered. You looked at him wondering. And didn’t understand anything.

“Oleg and Bolek, as you called them so beautifully, still have the lost part of my demon tablet. And my prophet. ”He paused and took a long swig from his glass. "I would be crazy if I got rid of my pretty, little bait now, huh?" While he was speaking the last sentence in a haughty tone , his lips barely touched your ear. Tenderly he brushed a lost strand of hair from your face and patted your cheek.

His demonic smile indicated that he was definitely the legitimate king of hell.

#supernatural #supernaturalff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural oneshot #spnfandom #crowley #crowley fanfiction #crowley x reader #Crowley Resurrection Year 2021

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holylulusworld · 5 years

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Partner from hell – Part 11

Summary: After quitting her job as a profiler (FBI) the reader starts working for a special unit of the NYC police department. As all cops refuse to work with the enemy she ends up being the new partner of Dean Winchester. The man who hates partners.

Pairing: Cop!Dean x Reader, Bobby Singer, OMC Miller, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, crime, murder, investigations, fun, a hint of fluff, comforting, descriptions of murder (victims), blood, mentions of incest (victims)

Part 2 of case 2

Partner from hell Masterlist

“You were right, smart pants.”

“I was?”

Glancing at the file in Dean’s hands you cock a brow. He’s smirking, sitting onto your desk, leaning close to your ear.

“The daughter was the mother of the baby but here comes the sick part. The father is also the grandfather.” Dean is scrunching up his nose in disgust. “Sick bastard abused his daughter.”

“Fuck! I remember where I saw this picture! It was a crime-scene photo. During my profiling training in Quantico, we tried to solve old cases, unsolved cases. There was a family, murdered in 1987. The mother was holding a doll instead of the baby but everything else was correct.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to remember more details.

“Anything else you can remember?” Dean gets his phone out, sending Charlie a message to let her dig out all murder cases of 1987 if needed.

“The whole family got slaughtered except for the baby; the little girl was gone without a trace. We assumed the killed took the baby after he or she killed the family. The only difference the crime scene looked like it was a scene straight out of a slasher movie. Blood all over the walls, the clothes where blood-soaked, and the cuts were not precise as the ones our killer made.”

“Figures. Our victims were drugged, unconscious and didn’t fight back. I guess the other family fought for their lives.” Dean is scratching his chin, waiting for more information coming to your mind.

“The name of the family was Stark, I think. Mother, father, son, and daughter got slaughtered. The baby was missing, tho. According to the files, the police never found her. Everyone believed she’s dead too.” Opening your browser, you access a hidden FTP server.

“Son of a bitch! You’ve got a nice secret server?” Dean whispers and you chuckle lightly. “Bad girl.”

“Hmm…I do not trust anyone. Back then everyone tried to solve the case, but no one wanted to follow my idea.” You shrug opened the folder with old cases.

“You’ve got the whole file? Smart pants, I love you.” Dean gets behind your chair, leaning closer to get a better look at the file.

“I always uploaded interesting cases to my secret server. I didn’t share my ideas until I had a breakthrough, Dean. I always assumed something was off with this case and that the baby is still alive.” You explain opening the crime-scene photos.

“Shit, you’re right. Same modus operandi but that killer was a slaughter, not a surgeon as our perpetrator. See the wounds at the father’s hands? He fought with all his strength against his attacker, just like the mother. I guess she wanted to save her children.”

Dean’s eyes drift toward a picture of a photo frame and he freezes. “Look at this. Same pattern. Mommy is holding the baby but only the daughter is looking lovingly at the little girl in her mother’s arms. God, don’t tell me Stark was abusing his daughter too.” Dean curses starting to pace around your desk.

“We can’t know that for sure, Dean. The cases are similar in a few points, but our killer can’t be the same as the one killing the Starks. I guess it’s someone close to the family Stark, or someone knowing about this case…” Trailing of you see Miller waving at you, showing you the files, you ordered.

“More files, smart pants?” Dean groans hating research with every fiber of his body. “Yay…research…”

“Dude, we need to check for possible victims. I believe someone knew about the abuse in this family. Maybe someone reported it. I got all anonymous reports about sexual abuse of the last two years.”

“Research…I hate research.”

“Dean. We need to find a trace who knew about the abuse and that Louise was the mother of her brother. The cases are too similar for someone not knowing about the abuse.” Your fingers start shaking at the thought both girls got abused by their fathers.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” Dean asks sitting onto your desk once again. His hand covers yours, squeezing it tightly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I loved my dad; he was a good man. I could never imagine the betrayal Louise must’ve felt when he…” Sighing you look at another picture. “The families, the modus operandi. Everything matches Dean. We need to analyze Janet’s blood and compare it with her missing sister’s hair examples.”

“You think the samples are still usable?” Dean’s eyes drift toward the pictures once again, shuddering at the sight of the dead baby in Louise’s moms’ arms. “Why did our perpetrator kill the baby too? Doesn’t make sense if he wants to copy this old case, Y/N.”

Glancing at the pictures in Dean’s hand you nod, not knowing the answer yet. There’s something about this case letting cold shivers run down your spine.

“I know this is a big difference. Let me play this in my head. The baby, the missing girl should be thirty-two now. What if…” You say playing with your pen, closing your eyes to walk through the crimes-scene in your mind.

“You think the baby could be the killer - right, smart pants?”

“I don’t know yet. But who else should be interested to arrange a crime scene like that? The cops investigating the case are all dead by now, just like the forensics. No one involved in this case is still alive.”

“We should head back home, eat a slice of pizza and have a beer. We can grab the files and do my beloved research while eating hot pizza.” Dean suggests while his stomach rumbles.

“I guess my partner from hell is hungry…” Slapping Dean’s thigh you chuckle, giving him a wink. “Let’s roll then…”

----

“I never thought there are so many anonymous reports about sexual abuse. There are so many sick guys out there, makes me want to vomit. A father should protect his child, not hurt…”

“I know, Dean. I worked for the special victim’s unit for a while.”

Dean’s eyes meet yours as you give him a cracked smile. “Must’ve been tough.”

“There are bad people or rather sick people out there, Dean. Not everyone is as nice as your brother, Bobby and you. Bad things happen to innocent people, that’s the reason I’m doing this job, the reason I won’t give up.”

Dean’s eyes lit up watching you leaning your head against his shoulder, as you pat his thigh. He’s covering your hand with his larger one, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re not alone, you’ve got your partner from hell. We will find this monster and arrest him just like the last sick bastard, Y/N. Did I ever apologize for being an ass?” Dean whispers.

“Nah, you are a partner from hell. This kind of guys never apologize with words but with actions. You saved me and gave me a home, a new partner and delicious pizza, Dean.”

“I knew you are only into my pizza. Sexy pizza destroyer…” Dean husks and you slap his hand away, glaring at your tall partner.

“Don’t get cocky Winchester!” Pointing toward his cock you shake your head. “Forget it. I’m not one of your flings, Detective.”

“One day you will fall for my charm. Hard and fast, Sweetheart.” Leaning closer Dean plants, a soft kiss to your hair. “Till then we can be friends, Y/N. How about some pie? I love me some pie.”

“Give me some pie, another beer and a pile of files and I might rethink the ‘no sex with my partner’ rule.” Chuckling you watch Dean rushing toward the kitchen to get more beer and his pie.

“I might let you see my cute naked ass in three or four years.” You yell making Dean stopping in his tracks, cursing.

“Not fair, smart pants…not fair…”

“Hmm…I like seeing you squirm partner. Now get me this pie and we can talk about more research.”

“You’re lucky I like you, partner,” Dean mutters.

“Still not a chance, Dean…”

“I wouldn’t bet on that…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @guardian-tn, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @atomicfandombomb, @defenderrosetyler , @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763

If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr , @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @shortwinchester, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17, @adoptdontshoppets

Partner from hell Tags

@moonlight-on-her-skin

#spn fanfic #spn #partner from hell masterlist #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #Cop!Dean #cop au #cop!dean x reader #cop dean #cop!dean winchester x reader #cop!dean x profiler!reader #dean x reader #dean x you

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pinknerdpanda · 6 years

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Yes Ma’am

Word Count: 3280

Characters: Cas x reader (ish?), Sam, Dean

Warnings: Crack, Fluff, language, mild feminist rage

A/N: This was written for @plaid-lover-bay25 and Baylea’s SPN/Disney Birthday Challenge. My prompt is one of my favorite lines ever and it’s bolded below. Happy Birthday Bay! I hope you enjoy this little bit of insanity! Xoxoxo

Beta’d by: @wheresthekillswitch (aka my Soul Sister aka The Masterbeta) and @hannahindie (aka my Twinny aka the better half of HanPan) - Thank you so much for being the world’s best cheering squad and making my words make sense. Lee - thanks for the idea for the ending. You always make me a better me. I love you both!

Yes Ma’am

“I hate you.”

I glare at the man sitting next to me and he tilts his head almost imperceptibly as his gaze bores into mine. The flickering light above our heads casts a sickly glow across his face and I shift my body as best I can, trying to put as much distance between the two of us as possible.

“I can assure you that had I known the outcome of my attempts at gallantry, I would not have offered any kind of assistance.” His voice is hoarse and low, the sound eerily magnified in the small room. Mere hours ago I’d found his voice intoxicating and sexy, but now it grates on my already frayed nerves; it’s funny how much can change in such a short amount of time.

“And if only you’d listened when I said I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, do you really think we’d be stuck here?”

He sighs, irritatedly. “I hardly think our ending up here was solely my doing. You are the one who thought assaulting the police officers was the logical next step.”

Before I can argue, the heavy, metal door to our right groans open, it’s hinges squealing in protest.

“Alright, Novak, James and Y/L/N, Y/N?” A sour faced officer appears from behind the door, glancing at us briefly to confirm our identities. We both nod and he drops his gaze back to the manila folder in his hands. “Alright, well, who wants to go first?”

---

I attempt to cross my arms over my chest before remembering my hands are shackled, connected by a length of iron chain, making the movement awkward and impossible. I lower my hands to my lap and narrow my eyes at the officer across the table from me. In any other circumstance, on any other hunt, I’d have been laying on the charm and playing up the puppy dog eyes in hopes of weaseling my way out of the inevitable interrogation. I’ve learned, however, that there’s no charm to lay once your secret stash of weaponry has been collected and bagged as evidence.

“So, Miss Y/L/N…”

I clear my throat, interrupting him. “It’s ‘Ms,” thank you very much.”

I hate that title - Ms. - it always makes me think of edgy divorcees from the 70’s who smoked pot in their basements and wore head to toe mustard colored polyester jumpsuits and feathered hair, but it was marginally better than the alternative.

He blinks at me blankly before over emphasizing it. “MS. Y/L/N, why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“How can I help you today, ma’am?”

I cringe at the overly-friendly voice from behind me. With all the advancements of human civilization, how have we as a society not come up with a better way to address a woman. It’s always “ma’am,” which makes me feel like a middle age matronly woman with a bun and a secret smoking habit. And if it’s not that it’s “Miss Y/L/N,” like I’m some sort of blonde haired, mini-skirt adorned sorority girl that speaks in acronyms and wears Uggs in the summer. Is there no middle ground? Can we just universally agree on a form of address for a woman in her mid thirties that enjoys long walks to the fridge in her yoga pants between episodes of her current Netflix binge show, but can be fancy if she wants to be?

“Ma’am!” The voice has lost a considerable amount of it’s previous cheeriness and I realize I’ve been silently internal-monologuing in my head for longer than socially acceptable.

I sigh, my shoulders drooping slightly and turn on my heel to face my newest companion.

“Ya know, it’s just rude to call someone, who’s clearly under 50, ma’am,” I scowl at the uniformed employee, who seems to be truly taken aback by my tone of voice. “I’m younger than you are! ….ma’am. You oughta be ashamed of yourself.”

“How can I help you today,” he pauses, his eyebrows flickering together for a second, trying to figure out a way to complete the sentence.

“Better, thanks. I was really just wanting to get an inside look into your operations here.” I gesture behind me with a limp hand.

“But M…” he pauses, flinching as I raise my eyebrow, silently daring him to say it again. “Mmm…” he drags the letter out, clearly unsettled. He takes a deep breath and sets his shoulders, plastering a smile on his face. “This is a museum. I’m not really sure what kind of ‘inside look’ you were hoping for, but this section is off limits to everyone except the director.”

“So,” I cross my arms, tilting my head to one side, “are you saying you’ve never been in this section before?”

I almost miss it, it happens so quick, but his left eye twitches the tiniest bit as his ruddy cheeks subtly drain of their recent influx of color.

“You have, haven’t you?” I jab an accusatory finger in his direction. I’m cut off by a swarm of tourists all sporting calf-length black socks with their sandals as they pass by, snapping photos and moving on to the next exhibit. None of them seem to notice me or my new friend.

When they are out of earshot, I continue in a hoarse whisper. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who opened the box and summoned the demon.”

“Ma’am,” his top lip curling in satisfaction as my nostrils flare. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, or I will be calling the police.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I get in there and undo whatever bullshit, hoey-doey nonsense your ignorant ass conjured up before any more people get hurt.”

I reach for my gun as he makes to lunge at me, and a second swarm of tourists interrupts us. I try to use their distraction as a way to buy time, but as I turn to run, a heavy hand lands on the back of my neck. I jab backwards, trying to put all my weight into the point of my elbow as it slams into my attacker, and the accompanying ‘crunch’ of ribs is just damn satisfying.

“Excuse me, miss?” A low gravelly voice from somewhere behind me makes both me and my new buddy freeze. I huff a breath in the direction of a stray strand of hair as I crane my neck to find the source. “It would appear that you seem to be in some sort of trouble. Perhaps I could be of some assistance?”

The man’s grip on my neck tightens and I kick back hard with my left boot, connecting solidly with the man’s groin. I whirl to face a man in a long, tan trench coat with dark messy hair and icy blue eyes looking at the scene curiously and, dare I say, a little amused?

“And what makes you think I need your help, blue eyes?” Without looking, I pull the gun from it’s holster and aim it at the man on the floor, who's now making a keening sound and clutching his pearls. “Do I look like some kind of damsel in distress to you?”

His sapphire eyes narrow to slits in a way that should be menacing, but actually makes him endearing somehow. Except he just grins and nods, which makes my blood boil.

Before I can react a hand wraps around my ankle and my back connects with the floor with a painful thud, the gun flies from my hand and I scramble after it.

He shrugs. “Point proven.”

My hand wraps around the handle of the gun, and I jerk upright to a sitting position, the gun and my attention trained again on my assailant.

“Ok, so I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day.”

Blue Eyes opens his mouth to respond but he’s cut off by a voice over a bull horn “Put your hands in the air where we can see them! Nobody move!”

“And that, Officer Fife, is where you showed up and ruined everyone’s fun.”

The stunned officer sitting across from me blinks several times, his ears reddening before he stands and leaves without so much as a grunt in response.

Well, this looks like to be shaping up a great day.

-----

Castiel

“And that’s as much information as she gave us. Do you have anything you’d like to add or change from Miss...sorry MS. Y/L/N’s story, Mr. Novak?”

With Sam and Dean occupied with other things, I had hoped to have found a way to make myself useful, even with diminished grace. So when I’d heard that there was something that sounded like a case only a few miles away, it had only seemed logical that I check it out. Dean had always used the term “milk run” and I had felt that the term applied to this scenario, so I didn’t feel the need to involve them.

However, standing across the room from a man and a woman engaging openly in verbal conflict, I wish that I had perhaps done a little more homework. I have no idea if either person involved is in any way linked to the case, but their fight happens to be occuring right in front of the partition that my limited research had found to be the epicenter of the supernatural activity.

The scene doesn’t look dire, per say - in fact it looks quite tame compared to the battles waged in heaven since...well, since the dawn of time. It does seem that the woman has some level of control of the situation, and I’m almost ashamed to find that there’s something about her that I find both fascinating and albeit somewhat intimidating. It’s almost as if my interfering would be taken as an insult.

I feel compelled to spring into action as I see the man’s hand land firmly on the back of her neck and she makes a squeaking sound. As I cross the room, though, she has once again regained the advantage by cracking at least one of his ribs with her elbow. A sensation of pride floods my mind, followed quickly by amusement as I see the corners of her lips turn in a pleasant and satisfied smile.

“Excuse me, is there anything I can do to help?” The words are out of my mouth before I am fully aware my brain has formed them.

She turns a furious glance toward me and scoffs, causing a ribbon of hair to fall over one of her eyes.

She kicks him in the groin and I vaguely hear her muttering something about the lack of gender equality prevalent in the current culture. She turns and aims a gun at the man, now writhing in pain on the floor, likely caused by intricate and centralized assemblage of nerves in the pelvic region of the male anatomy.

“I’m not some damsel in distress!” Her voice takes on a notably higher tone as she whirls to face me. It appears my offer of help was a mistake.

The writhing man must have sensed her distraction as well, because for a moment I’m looking into her beautifully infuriated face and the next she’s flat on the floor, her gun skidding along the ground and landing a few yards from her grasp.

“Well damsel is an antiquated term referring to a female of human persuasion, which you appear to be. And distress...well, that seems to illustrate your current situation quite accurately.”

The woman reaches the firearm and realigns herself in an upright, seated position.

“I think I can handle this on my own, thank you very much.” Her tone of voice doesn’t seem to indicate any manner of genuine gratitude, but I think the point is made.

“And that is when you gentlemen showed up, arresting her and myself, along with the employee, who you see, appears to be the cause for all of your recent mysterious disappearances,” I smile at the officer and offer a wink. I feel like I’ve seen Dean respond in this fashion. “You’re welcome.”

The officer studies my face, opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. He places his palms on his knees to stand, and winces. It seems that up until this moment, he'd forgotten about the assault portion of the night's festivities. With a desolate tone he asks “Mr. Novak, can you tell me why you and Ms. Y/L/N attacked and injured a handful of the responding officers?”

I purse my lips together, thinking carefully.

“I think she really dislikes being called Ma’am.”

-----

Y/N

The metal hinges squeak again, the stream of light flooding into the room taking on an amber glow as the sun begins to set. Blue Eyes shuffles back into the room, his handcuffs tinkling lightly as he perches on the cot beside me. The door slams shut again and I drop my head.

“I’m just letting you know, that if we have to stay the night here, I am not sleeping on that filthy, grimy, urine-drenched concrete floor.”

He just sighs, his shoulders dropping gently, as though exhaustion is beginning to wear on him too.

We sit in uncomfortable silence as I study the intricate patterns in the cracks of the cinder blocks making up those damn walls.

“The officer asked why you and I assaulted them.” His rich, textured timbre startles me and I glance at him to find blue eyes squinting at me curiously.

“And what did you tell them?” I raise an eyebrow, gnawing on my bottom lip.

A slow smile spreads across his face and he looks down at the floor again. “I said I was sure you’d had your reasons.”

“I did. I can’t say they were good, but I had them.” I turn, shifting to face him. “But why did you help? You would never been arrested if you’d stayed out of it.”

Blue Eyes, or Novak the officer had said, tilts his head to the side and he presses his lips together before speaking. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“I was hunting a malevolent entity that had been wreaking havoc in the midwest for the last month or so. My capacity for belief is a little broader than most.”

He smiles again, one corner of his mouth pulling inward as though he’s trying to suppress it.

“I was hoping that the last bit of my grace would have been effective in subduing the officers long enough for you to get away.”

“Grace?” I scrunch my nose up, confused.

“Angel’s powers are derived from their grace, but mine was stolen by a sweater-vested megalomaniac trying to take over Heaven. I borrowed the grace of one of my brothers, but it’s fading as are my powers.” He licks his lips and looks at me like he’d just told me he was born in Sheboygan.

I lean forward, not really sure why. “Why didn’t you just get more of the super soldier serum from your brother and power up, Mario?”

Stunned, his mouth opens and closed a few times, but before he can find his words, the door slams open again and we both look up to find the officer standing in the doorway, flanked by two, tall men.

“Well hello, princess.” The man with the green eyes purrs, the wrinkles under his eyes betraying his attempt at keeping a straight face. “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Dean…” Novak and I bark, in matching annoyed tones. We freeze, and he turns around slowly to look at me, his features even more befuddled than before.

“Hey, y/n. I’m so glad you’re ok,” Sam stresses the last word, his eyes boring into mine as he sneaks a glance at the officer. “Thank you so much, for finding her, Cas. We were so worried about her when we couldn’t find her this morning!”

“Cas?” The officer barks.

“It’s a family nickname.” Sam smiles.

The officer doesn’t seem convinced and he crosses his arms. “Family huh? I suppose that would be on your mother’s side? Since you all have different last names.”

“Yes,” Novak, or Cas, or whatever his name is says, tentatively, having obviously caught on. “Our mother was quite promiscuous in her youth.”

“Whatever, just please go home, wherever that is, and stay there,” the officer rolls his eyes, unlocking my compatriot’s cuffs and then mine. He turns back to Sam and Dean. “You need to keep better track of your sister, in case she has another manic episode.”

I glare at the Winchesters, neither of whom make eye contact with me as the officer escorts us quickly to the front and out into the late evening air.

I wait until the officer is out of view, and I whirl to face Dean, jabbing him hard in the arm. “Manic episode, Dean. Really?!”

He rubs at his arm dramatically, though I’m sure it’s just for show as Sam chuckles lightly behind me.

“And you,” I spin to face him, poking a finger in his chest, “I’m only here because you two begged me to, seeing as how you’re so busy saving the world all the damn time. You could have at least given me the head’s up you were sending Rain Man here to check in on me.”

“We didn’t. We had no idea Cas was here until he used his one phone call on us,” Sam holds up both hands in a playful surrender before turning to him. “Why didn’t you tell us where you were going?”

Cas clears his throat, his hands resting lightly in the pockets of his trench coat. “I wanted to do something that would prove helpful to you both, and this seemed - though I recognize the egregious error now - to be easy.”

“So…” I muse, “your name is Cas, not Novak; you weren’t sent by Jolly Green and his trusty sidekick, Freckleface Strawberry to check up on me;” I motion behind me toward Sam and Dean respectively, “and you’re an angel?”

“It’s Castiel, but otherwise, yes. That is all correct.” His gaze flicks between the other two men before asking. “How did you come to know the Winchesters?”

“Dean called me ma’am once and I broke his nose.”

Cas turns to Dean, his eyebrows arched incredulously. “You told me you got into a fight at a biker bar, Dean.”

Dean shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and drops his eyes to the ground as he kicks at a clump of grass. “Yeah, well, I mean I didn’t lie…” Dean trails off.

“I’m still pissed about that, too, Winchester.” I frown at him. “That was my happy place and now I’m banned for life thanks to you.”

Dean gawks at me, vaguely horrified. “Me!? You’re mad at me about that?!”

“Alright, listen, we still have a case to finish,” Sam cuts Dean off, fighting down the smile playing at his lips. “I think it might be best though if you and Cas take off and let us clean up. You’re welcome to stay at the bunker for a few days.”

“I would be happy to drive you, in my vehicle if you wish, as it is getting late and as an angel, I do not need sleep,” Cas offers.

As much as I want to argue and stomp my foot about being able to fend for myself, the offer is tempting. “Ok, but I get to pick the tunes and you’re gonna tell me more about this angel business. ‘Sweater-vested megalomaniac’ sounds like a punk band from Seattle and I want to know everything. Savvy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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orionsangel86 · 6 years

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13x12 - Episode Review - What is Fifth Base Anyway?

So the people at Google must have been confused when they discovered the number of searches for “fifth base” drastically went up overnight… Steve Yokey you cheeky bugger I love you! (Show of hands everyone who did this? Go on, admit it!)

This episode was really good. One of the stronger ones of an already very strong bunch as season 13 continues to exceed in quality. It had jokes, it had deep emotional revelations, it had Cas once again using his SuperPower of sassing the fuck out of things to get what he wants. Yeah it was pretty awesome! So let’s delve into the main points.

The Red Herring Love Spell

We were all expecting this to be an episode similar to 12x11 based on how it was marketed to us. Dean is under a love spell! It’s up to Sam and Rowena to save him! That seemed to be the gist of the PR team’s focus. As ever, PR is not Showrunning and this turned out to be one giant red herring.

The love spell lasted all of five minutes. So why bother? WHY was a love spell even PART of this plot?! Seriously? Someone tell me how this episode couldn’t have followed the EXACT same narrative with the sisters using some other spell to force people to do things for them? The fact is, that love spell was pointless for the plot but excellent for getting people thinking about LOVE. Specifically, Dean Winchester and LOVE, or at least, what love should be, and what it most definitely is not.

Aside from the fact that the clunky music whenever the love spell was invoked made me cringe, I thoroughly enjoyed how innocent it all seemed. Dean got to play Prince Charming to the princess and provide her with a gift of her choosing. I think it says something about Dean that the love spell encouraged this fairy tale vibe specifically for him, when for Dale at the start it was all about him playing protector and hero through violence and theft. I just thought it was an interesting statement about Dean’s wishes and desires compared to other men. Though I gotta admit, the gift giving, goofiness and oh I dunno, protecting his lover from a gun? It all seemed rather familiar to me… Hmmm…

I mean who else has Dean previously entrusted with powerful one off weapons?

Who else has Dean had to recently protect from a pointed gun much to his own horror rather than the recipient who is unlikely to be harmed by a regular gun anyway?

Who else makes Dean goofy and pull these silly delighted faces?

*looks into the camera like on the Office*

Yeah, but see these are not really examples of true love, even though they are all things done with Cas. What IS true love in season 13 is something that subtextually KEEPs getting referred to in EVERY EPISODE. That in 13x01 – 13x05 Dean was deeply lost in grief. Deeply mourning over the loss of Cas – someone who he is truly in love with. Love makes you do crazy things? Yeah, and as Billy said in 13x05 (Yokey’s last episode FYI) Dean wanted to die. Cas’s death had brought him to that level. The fact that now it is SAM who is feeling low, feeling powerless because of the loss of Mary and Jack, and Dean is able to remain focussed and have HOPE that they will save them, continues to be astonishingly hypocritical of Dean given where he was when Cas was dead. But it does keep drawing our attention to that fact, and for that I love it.

Bonus point for “I think you may be right, I think its time we go ahead and call Cas…” … “I’m in love” because Yokey could have written Sam saying ANYTHING at that point but he chose to remind the audience about Cas at that exact moment… as Dean announces he is in love, because the two are connected (and because it then wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to assume that Sam’s initial reaction is “Oh… so you finally admit it?”)

(FYI this crappy gif is my own. Don’t judge. It’s the first I’ve ever made.)

Sam’s mild amusement here just fits the “oh so you finally admit it? We can call Cas and start the wedding preparations?” interpretation and NO ONE can stop me seeing it that way! :D

Bonus Point two for the mentions of “Soulmates” (which relate to Angels in the show) and “Cosmic” (which again, tends to relate to angels and Cas).

Bonus point three that this is an episodes marketed as Dean being in love! LOOK AT ALL THIS HETEROSEXUALITY! It seems to scream at our general audiences, and yet, as always in SPN, if the GA are seeking heterosexuality, they are to be disappointed. They got a 5 minute mini love spell plot and Dean once again is without even a hint of an actual true female romantic partner. Nope, sorry heteros seeking a woman for Dean. You won’t find that here!

Basically, it’s not too much of a stretch to interpret this entire love spell mini plot as exposition for the TRUTH regarding Dean and “true love”. Because we all know it. It’s right there in the subtext. I just wish they’d make it text already.

Review continues under the cut as per usual...

Addressing Long unspoken Trauma – FINALLY

Officially my favourite part of the episode (unofficially my second fave part after “fifth base”), the conversations between Sam and Rowena about their trauma at the hands of Lucifer had me welling up. This is the first time in SPN history that Sam has actually opened up to ANYONE about his Lucifer trauma. Read that again. Be amazed that it has taken this long. Send Dabb and Yokey a fruit basket for this.

One thing season 13 has been excellent at doing, is making things textual that were previously only implied. This seems to be a continued trend following on from the reveal in 12x22 that Dean is effectively Sam’s parent (A fact meta writers have been talking about for YEARS.)

I don’t really have much to say about it actually, because it’s all just THERE in the text. It has left me kind of speechless.

SAM: Its not gonna change anything, you’re still gonna feel helpless. What Lucifer did to you…

ROWENA: I told you I don’t… before he crushed my skull, Lucifer showed me his face. His true face. I’m scared Sam. All the time.

SAM: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind… behind whatever vessel… yeah it still keeps me up at night.

ROWENA: How do you deal with it?

SAM: I guess I don’t deal with it, not really. I mean I…Ive pushed it down, and the world kept almost ending and so I keep pushing it down and I dunno… I don’t really talk about it, not even with Dean, I mean I could… he would listen but, it’s not something I really know how to share.

…..

SAM: Even if you do get the book, and even if you get your power back. It won’t matter. You won’t ever be able to change what happened, you won’t be able to change how helpless you felt, or how helpless you feel. You’re still gonna get scared. That feeling, that feeling never goes away.

ROWENA: Never?

SAM: Never.

…

Honestly it’s perfect. Yokey has decided that enough is enough. We need to discuss this. We need to talk about the fact that our main characters have a shit load of trauma. It’s about GODDAMN TIME.

(x)

I just want to scream about the shots for a second though because god bless Amanda Tapping for being so excellent at capturing emotions. I am starting to think she is one of the best directors for it. The intimate long close ups on the actors faces as they open about this stuff, it just works. The soft music in the back ground pulls no focus away from the gravity of Sam’s words. It’s intense, and harrowing and kudos to Jared here because I think he must have been ITCHING for a moment like this for Sam for YEARS (and for god sake someone ask him about this scene at a con instead of more bloody prank questions PLEASE.)

I also love that it’s Rowena who Sam opens up to about this stuff, because she has that in common with him. I know that it can be argued that Cas has also experienced trauma at the hands of Lucifer, but since Cas is an angel it’s not the same. I doubt Lucifer’s true face would affect Cas, since Cas is already an angel with the ability to see and cope with seeing things that human minds struggle to comprehend.

I think Rowena and Sam is our new Dean and Crowley. They are enemies, but they have a mutual respect for one another and I see this as a really good thing both for Sam and Rowena. Because Crowley was changed thanks to his bond with Dean (love for Dean), he was able to find redemption in that. Rowena could also now find redemption, especially considering her newly powered up status. For Sam I think it was a smart choice to give Rowena the pages at the end. It wasn’t just about the bond they formed over shared trauma, it was Sam knowing that Rowena is right, that Lucifer will always find a way back, and Sam knows that eventually he will have to face him again, and he needs all the help and power he can get, so a powered up Rowena is a powerful ally to have against the creature that tortured and broke both their spirits.

Am I shipping them? No, not really. I still think Rowena is a villain. I never shipped Drowley, though I acknowledge it’s existence in the show as basically a hairsbreadth away from canon. (it’s technically just as close to canon if not more so than Destiel and strongly implied that they hooked up in various episodes). But if the show did go there with Sam and Rowena I wouldn’t mind it as such. I just don’t think it would be endgame. But sure, it could work for a while. I see them more like frenemies with mutual interests. Besides, I’m a Saileen girl all the way and will continue to hope for Eileen’s resurrection this season.

Narrative Mirrors – Witches and Winchesters

Ah narrative mirrors, don’t we love them? I especially love them when they highlight the Winchester family dynamics and just how screwed up they all are. Our witchy sisters fall extremely easily into this category. Jamie and Jenny or “J2” as I now plan to call them (I see what you did there Yokey). So J2 are motivated to do whatever it takes to bring back mum. Whatever it takes even though they are hardly competent witches and only seem to have one spell mastered – the love spell. The older sister uses her charm to encourage the victims to do whatever they wish for, whilst the younger sister is the smarter of the two, more skilled in magic (I wonder who they are supposed to represent?)

They have one purpose, and will stop at nothing until that purpose is fulfilled:

JAMIE: I’m sorry, I know I’m the big sister and I’m supposed to be the strong one or whatever.

JENNY: Yeah?

JAMIE: I just really miss her.

JENNY: I do too.

JAMIE: I know, and I like, really believe in us

JENNY: Jamie, I just want her back so bad

JAMIE: And we’re going to get her back, even if we have to cast every spell in this book and curse the souls of like a million people to make it happen.

Doesn’t this sound rather familiar? Like from 13x09:

DEAN: You were right, about mom you were right, this whole time we should have been looking for her

SAM: I was just hoping, I didn’t know. And anyway it doesn’t matter, now that we do know.

DEAN: We find her, no matter what it takes.

Which always made me kinda uncomfortable. There is a reason that Billy didn’t want Dean knowing their mum was still alive. Because Billy knows that the Winchesters would break the Universe to bring her back. “House of Cards” she called it. What’s the betting that thanks to Sam and Dean this “house of cards” is going to come tumbling down just as Billy predicted? Because I would put money on it.

At the end of the episode, we realise that Sam and Dean are in exactly the same place as J2. Jamie – the older sister, trying to support and reassure her younger sister, the one who “wants mom back so badly”. Jamie, unlike her sister, is totally focused on completing their task, whereas Jenny has her doubts. Just like Sam and Dean. We know that Dean is back to “We’ll figure it out” and “you and me” even though Sam is NOT on board with this, but like Jenny, Sam will follow Dean into a hornets nest if it means doing what they set out to do and save mum.

The girls mum came back wrong though, a zombie. When Mary was first resurrected she certainly wasn’t what the boys expected either, and now she is lost again, whose to say just what state she will be in when she is finally freed? Perhaps the message for the boys here is to actually let her go? As in, let go of the memory of Mary that they had sat on a pedestal (Dean in particular) and start to accept the woman their mother actually is, and let her do her thing, because otherwise it may kill them all.

And isn’t this moment just a perfect visual representation of the toxic co-dependency that is the Winchester brothers? Stab stab stab. One of them even has a hammer… LOL.

(Yup its another one of my crappy gifs.)

The Sassiest Angel in the Garrison

Oh Cas, I have missed your beautiful face…

(x)

(Dipper agrees with me)

Now I think everyone knows by now that I hate Lucifer. As in, I find the character extremely irritating and just want him off our screens dead and buried, and that Mark P can go annoy some other shows audience. The ONLY thing that makes watching Lucifer remotely bearable for me, is Castiel - wonderful, perfect, funny, grumpy, brilliant Castiel, sassing the fuck out of him. Bearing in mind all their scenes but one took place behind bars, I was as always captivated by Cas and the brilliant genius he is.

So far in season 13, Castiel hasn’t actually spent much time using his powers, his grace, to actually get anything done. What he has done, is be incredibly smart and used that tactician brain of his to talk himself out of any situation. Everything Castiel does has a purpose. He is generally a creature of few words (except when it comes to Dean) and therefore, whenever he does speak, it is usually with a great deal of thought. (There was a brilliant meta on the word “assbutt” and how it is the worst insult he could possibly throw at Lucifer and yet everyone still ridicules him for it. Don’t knock the word assbutt. Cas knew exactly what he was doing!)

And so Cas isn’t just being a sassy little bitch in this episode. He’s being a sassy little bitch with purpose. Lucifer may be powered down, but he still has power. Cas knows this. Cas knows that the best way to get Lucifer activating what little power he has is to make him angry. So what does Cas do? He sass’s him, over and over. Pissing him off until eventually, it works.

“Turns out rage is a good motivator”

Such a badass. Bye bye little Dipper.

This is why you should never underestimate Castiel. He will always get the better of you. He will always come out on top in the end.

“This is me, learning from my mistakes” he says whilst stabbing Lucifer at the end of the episode. I thoroughly enjoyed that moment of course, even if we know already it doesn’t stick. Since Lucifer is alive next episode. *sigh*.

Lucifer has been continuously hinting all episode that he want’s Cas’s grace. It seems possible due to pics from next week, that he may actually get what he seeks.

Cas has blood on his collar, which he doesn’t have at the end of 13x12. So is Cas about to become human again? Or at least graceless? It’s possible. @tinkdw wrote this post about it (yes I stole her screencap). We were discussing this in our group chat yesterday and thanks to the themes that would come from another human!Cas story I can certainly get behind it, even if I hate the idea that it isn’t his choice yet again. This time, having Lucifer steal his grace seems worse than the first time. But as I mentioned above, Castiel has already shown several times this season that his grace is in no way where his strengths lie. I just hope that it is still his choice in the end to give it up, or not regain it, however that story may pan out.

But yeah maybe prepare ourselves for a human Cas whose grace was stolen by Lucifer plot? I mean if it doesn’t happen great, but if it does... don’t say we didn’t warn ya okay? I know how sensitive we all get about Cas stuff - this is literally the first any of us had thought of this. Besides, he’ll still be amazing even if Lucifer does take his grace, He’ll get in a few more stabs before the end. No doubt.

Other Awesome Stuff

The “fifth base” scene. Yeah this was certainly risqué of Yokey. I was screaming about this to Tink in the chatty bubbles, trust a gay writer to throw in a gay joke aimed at our currently in the closet bisexual lead character and have him act all awkward like he doesn’t know what it is… *glances at Sam* What? Nope, I’ve never… There’s NO SUCH THING AS FIFTH BASE. Sure Jan. Just as I scoff at the idea of Dean not knowing basic French, the idea that Dean DOESN’T know what fifth base is, is absurd. These are purposely input into this episode to raise our eyebrows and DOUBT them.

Baring in mind the way Rowena asks that question “Did THEY get to fifth base?” not “Did YOU get to fifth base” strongly implies actually that Rowena was asking if Dean was pegged. Let’s get that clear. Once again, we have a bottom!dean joke in the subtext of the show. (At some point we need to round up EVERY reference to Dean’s ass and compare it to the other characters just to make this point.)

Oh gosh I haven’t even got to “What’s by is by” yet. The top result in google for this supposed saying is a destiel fanfic written as coda for this episode. There is NOTHING else. It doesn’t exist. What is Yokey playing at exactly? Bygones be bygones maybe? But she had to say it like that? After a reference to anal? To DEAN? Yeah I know everyone is probably already yelling about this on tumblr but still. This is a very huge WTF from me to Yokey that he would ever think we WOULDN’T pick up on this. He did it on purpose. It has a reason, just like everything else. The reason being “Dean is Bi”.

......

(x)

The final scene with Rowena is spectacular. It’s also oddly erotic but maybe that’s just me. Rowena is finally unbound, powerful, free, and probably quite deadly. Here’s hoping she raises a hell of a storm. I have always loved Rowena’s character so for me this idea of her being “unbound” and basically immortal is really interesting. I just hope this paves the way to her helping the Winchesters defeat the big bads to come. Because I see her becoming more of an ally as time goes by. I hope she continues to have a big part to play in the story, and after this final scene I am practically sure she will.

....

Castiel speaking about Jack like he’s a proud parent gives me life. He truly loves the kid. It’s beautiful.

....

Why does Lucifer attract so many dick jokes nowadays? I’m actually almost getting tired of them. For shits and giggles I’m gonna accept it at face value that Lucifer, unlike Crowley, is not well endowed. It makes sense. The tantrums, the violence. Little man syndrome. Pfft.

I’m also going to take it at face value that Cas is most likely huge. Yeah, that smirk is telling.

We all know he’s a big boy. ;-)

....

Hats off to Brenda. The biggest star of the episode. Never failed to make me laugh every time I watched.

You go Brenda. You were awesome.

Overall

Solid episode with lots of great moments. Now all I need is Cas to find the boys and get really pissy with them when he realises they didn’t ONCE figure out that Colonel Sanders was impersonating him. I mean sure, Dean has super low self esteem and was clearly grumpy with Cas at the start of the episode for only really checking in with Sam, not coming home after taking off, clearly CHOOSING the road over being at home with HIM... But that doesn’t excuse him being blind to Asmodeus’s impersonation. Bring on next week. I hope Dean grovels.

#supernatural #episode review #13x12 #destiel #spn meta #spn speculation #dean is bi #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #rowena #lucifer #season 13 #spn spoilers #my reviews #my meta

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impala-dreamer · 7 years

Text

Walking To Nowhere

SPN FanFic

~ Second dates can be magical...~

Jensen x Reader

1,303 Words

Warnings: It’s the fluffiest garbage I’ve ever produced. It’s so fluffy it’ll hurt.

A/N: This is for Lynn, @myfand0msandm0re, who may get snowed out tonight. Hope you like it.

First dates are awkward.

There’s too much lead up, too much anticipation. Too much daydreaming of what it’ll be like, what you’re going to say, what you’re going to wear. Is he going to like you? Are you going to be your usual charming self or crumble into a pile of self-consciousness and anxiety? You picture it in your head all day leading up to it, but it never becomes what you’ve imagined. You envision a fairytale setting; you in the perfect outfit, your hair all in place, everything going to plan. You see yourself floating on air, having the time of your life with your Prince Charming.

When reality strikes, you find yourself exchanging awkward glances, giggling like an idiot, too scared to say much.

First dates suck.

Second dates, however, are where the magic happens. That is, if you are lucky enough to get to the second date.

You were frankly amazed when he asked you for another outing; you had been sure you’d seen and heard the last from the gorgeous actor, but there it was, a glowing text on your phone: “I can’t wait to see you again. Little Food Cafe? 6? - J.”

It was supposed to snow that night, but you didn’t care. Even though the threat of a storm had most of the city closed down early, there was no way you were canceling on Jensen. He was in town only for a few weeks while filming and you were determined to get every second of his attention that you could; that is, until he backed away screaming from the crazed fangirl you were trying so hard to contain.

The moment you stepped into the Cafe you felt it: the magic was already in the air. The door jingled, signaling your arrival, and Jensen looked up. He was seated at a little round table in the back of the room, two cups of coffee steaming before him. He smiled when he saw you; his green eyes lighting up and crinkling around the edges so perfectly. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped when you saw him; he was everything you’d ever wanted and for some unfathomable reason he was spending his free time with you.

He climbed to his feet as you approached and you slowed down to get a good look at him. He was dressed in dark, tight jeans and a heather gray sweater that clung to his firm chest, highlighting every bit of muscle in his shoulders and arms.

“Hi Y/N,” he greeted you, leaning down to give you a hug.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in and trying to keep your balance as you hugged back quickly. God, he smelled so good.

Two cups of coffee, a plate of cookies and a danish later, you were both relaxed and laughing, carrying on like teenagers. He told you about work and traveling, and you regaled him with stories of your small-town life. Despite how little you thought your life compared up to his, he never looked anything less than enthralled as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your face. A graceful ease fell between you and the commotion and messiness of your first date faded into the background like a bad dream.

Amidst your retelling of a particularly embarrassing work story, you noticed that while your hands were wrapped tightly around the large blue coffee mug, Jensen’s hand was inching ever closer to yours. He leaned on the table and slowly brought his fingers up to brush the back of your hand. You looked down and smiled, moving your hand from the mug to lay in his. He closed his fingers around yours and kept you there, just holding your hand while you rambled on. Your heart swelled at the simple touch; maybe you weren’t so bad at dates after all.

“I’m so sorry, but we’re closing.” The waitress’s voice pulled you both back to the world and your hands disconnected, falling back into your laps.

“What? What time is it?” You asked, amazed by the darkness you saw outside the big window.

“It’s almost 9:30, but with all the snow…”

“Sorry,” Jensen stopped her, “We’ll get outta your hair darlin’.”

With another jingle of bells you stepped outside into the cold night. Apparently while you had basked in each other’s storytelling abilities, the storm had come and gone, leaving behind almost ten inches of white powder.

“They said it might snow tonight,” you said with a shrug, pulling a quick laugh from Jensen.

“That they did.”

You turned to face him, ready to say goodbye, but also not ready. The night had been too perfect, too amazing to let go so soon. “So…” You looked down and kicked at the snow with your boot, trying not to get upset about the magic ending.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said, holding out his arm for you to take.

“You sure? It’s freezing.”

“I live in Canada most of the year. You don’t know freezing, Y/N.” He smiled and raised his arm again, urging you to take it. You sighed and slipped your hand through, laying it against his arm. Jensen spun around then, taking you with him and setting off down the street.

The world was quiet, and you observed the silence as you walked; loving the contrast of dark sky above and white ground below. Your boots crunched through the wonderland as Jensen walked you down the street, heading nowhere in particular.

You held onto him, loving the warmth pulsing from his body and the calm that fell so naturally between you. How could it be that out of all the women in the world, this man had chosen you to spend his time with? He could be off on some grand adventure in the big city, rolling around with supermodels and attending important parties, but he was here, walking to nowhere, with you.

As you meandered, a gentle flurry began to fall. The flakes danced around you in a calm wind, winding through the trees and touching down onto your faces. They glistened in the glow of the streetlights, appearing like confetti falling from Heaven. You paused and looked up into the sky, laughing softly as the snow caressed your cheeks.

“This is beautiful,” you said, gazing up into the gray clouds.

“It is.” Jensen had turned, watching you as you kissed the snow, and you opened your eyes to see him staring at you. You blushed and tried to look down, but he reached out with one gloved hand, catching your cheek. He brushed away a lingering snowflake and licked his lips, making your heart stop.

Very slowly he leaned down and sealed the magical night with a kiss. It was quick and chaste, but firm and filled with meaning. When he pulled back you laughed, brimming with happiness and amazed by the kiss.

“I don’t usually make girls laugh when I do that,” Jensen joked, dropping his hand from your face finally.

“It wasn’t funny,” you assured him. “It was… I mean, wow. It was… oh hell…” Since your words were failing, you did the only thing you could think of to redeem yourself. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips to his once more. You felt his arms wrap around you, and he pulled you close as the kiss deepened. Your tongues met in a gentle dance as you held each other, standing alone in the dark night, haloed by streetlight, kissing in the snow.

Finally you had it: your fairytale evening. And it was more wonderful than any daydream you could have imagined, more magical than any chick flick you’d ever seen. It was perfect. He was perfect. You were perfect, together.

Forevers: @atc74 @autopistaaningunaparte @bea789 @because-imma-lady-assface @babypieandwhiskey @britt-spn @bulletscrossbowpie @charliebradbury1104 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @chelsea072498 @chuckangel @cici0507 @clairese1980 @collectivekiera @cyrilconnelly @demonangelimpala @dustycelt @faithfulpanicmoon @feelmyroarrrr @flowermisha @freaksforthewin @frenchybell @fuckyeahfeysand @gemini75eeyore @ghostkitty1103 @im-super-potter-locked @inmysparetime0 @jpadjackles @jotink78 @kristaparadowski @katrodriguez99 @lavendellove @luciisthebest @mamaredd123 @mogaruke @megafrontliner311 @megansescape @mija-novella @milkymilky-cocopuff @mrsbatesmotel53 @my-life-is-here-soo @myfand0msandm0re @mysteriouslyme81 @naadestiel @notnaturalanahi @percussiongirl2017 @percywinchester27 @poukothenerd @riddikulus-obsessions @riversong-sam @sam-winchesters-long-locks @smoothdogsgirl @summer-binging-spn @superbasementflower @supernaturallymarvellous @supernaturalyobessed @thecynicalnerd @the-latina-trickster @therewillbeblood @tom-is-in-my-tardis @typicalweirdbookworm @thegreatficmaster @vine-colored-assbutt @whatareyousearchingfordean @wi-deangirl77 @xxthevampirediariesexpertxx @yearoftheweasley @youtubehelpsmesurvive

The Dean’s List: @anokhi07 @assbutt-fan @deadinside-muser @deangirl-withanimpala @ellexirmalfoy @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @leather-moccasin-hero @msdooos @mskitty416 @ruprecht0420 @soullessbabee @tmccarney @torn-and-frayed @twoboys-and-afallenangel @vesperlady04

#spn fanfic #jensen x reader #fluff

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