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jasmines-library · 2 months

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Hiii!! Firstly, I love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!! I was hoping to request a Winchester sibling fic where the reader is really comforted by physical touch but is really observant and receptive to the fact their brothers are emotionally constipated and touch starved so the reader has never really asked for it but then one day either just a bad day or bad hunt and the reader just asks the boys to hold them or one of them to sit in the back of the Impala with them? Thank you so so much and I hope you have a lovely day!! 🫶

So close, yet too far.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Summary: You just really need a hug.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Touch Starved, character death mentioned, swearing

p.s. Sorry for the long wait! I've got exams at the moment so they're taking up a lot of my time.

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Life as a hunter was never still. You were constantly moving. Constantly looking over your shoulder. Constantly chasing what could be your last day on earth. And you wouldn’t ever have said you regretted it. No. In fact, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Hunting creatures and saving the world? It was all You couldn’t have imagined a better life…

But sometimes you found yourself wanting life to just slow down for a minute. It was so hectic and you just needed a breath. A hug. With such a busy life, there was no time for just spending quality time with your brothers. Or anyone for that matter. It was an endless cycle: Wake up. Research. Hunt. Drive. Sleep. There was no time for sitting on the couch and watching cheesy movies together. Nor was there any time for curling up together like you used to do when you were smaller. You found yourself yearning for it. For a hug or simply just a gentle arm around your shoulder. It used to bring you so much comfort. But times were tough with all that had happened recently. The three of you were even more on edge than ever before.

Your brothers had always told you that you could ask them for anything. That you could tell them whatever you wanted… but this wasn’t just something you could ask them for. You had seen how they often shunned away from touch. From relationships. Having seen so much pain and having lost so many people…they struggled to allow themselves to let their guard down enough to enjoy a tender moment. Even with you. So no matter how much you yearned for it you could never bring yourself to push the want from your mind and into words.

So when the hunt went worse than you could have imagined you kept quiet.

Dean’s hand was right there; peeking out from the hem of his flannel. His fingers were bloody and calloused, scarred and covered in small cuts and yet his touch was still tender. You felt your own fingers itch to reach out and lace them between his. You wanted for him or Sam to wrap you up in their arms and hold you close. To squeeze your hand. Or a shoulder. But you knew that they had much more pressing matters to deal with that overshadowed “needy little sister”.

You trailed behind them, dragging your feet ever so slightly to kick up the dirt and leave trails between the orange leaves. You did not look up at your brothers because you knew you would see Dean's set jaw and Sam’s pinched eyebrows as they too mourned the hunt.

A small boy had been caught by a shtriga. He had been no older than 5 or 6 with these big, blue eyes that got impossibly wider as the creature stalked toward him. And his scream…it pierced through the air like a beam of light: clear as day yet providing no clarity. No safety like light should bring. Instead it was cold and filled with a gripping terror.

The three of you had been too slow. No matter how hard you dragged your stubborn limbs you couldn’t get to him fast enough. So now you trudged along in silence.

The sight of Baby did not, in fact, provide you with the relief you thought it would. Instead the gleaming of the bonnet against the moonlight just made your stomach churn. You knew that you would all try to bury the memory in a box, deep in the back of your mind. But it was never that easy. They tried hard, but you would hear them late at night. Dean hardly slept as he tried to drink his troubles away and Sam barely left his room. And then there was you who lay awake staring blankly at the ceiling as you wept softly, wrapping your arms around yourself to curl up in a ball. It didn’t bring the same comfort as theirs did, like it had done when you were small and naive when you crawled into their bed after a nightmare. When things weren’t so fucking complicated.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you reached for the metal handle. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in silence to be left with your own thoughts. You couldn’t be alone. Not right now.

“Sammy…” Your voice was quiet. Hushed. Barely a whisper pushed out on cracked lips that trembled.

Sam paused, his hand halfway between where he had been picking at the hem of his jeans and the handle of the passenger door. He lifted his head, humming softly in acknowledgement.

“Sit with me… Please.”

“Of course.” His face melted and he moved in one swift movement.

He slid in the backseat, leaning against the door frame and stretching out across the seats. He pulled you in to lean against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. And began to weep.

“Kiddo?” Sam asked gently. “What’s up?” His hands traced small circles on your arm.

Dean reached over the back of the seat with a concerned look, though part of it could be easily mistaken for fear. “It’s not your fault, Sweetheart-” He started.

“Just…hold me. Please.” You clung onto Sam, your other hand reaching out to settle atop of Dean’s. Their touch was comforting, yet you couldn’t help the wavering as you wept. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

And so they did. Sam nestled you further into his side, tucking your head beneath his chin and Dean clambered out of his seat to join the two of you in the back. He settled down on your other side, sandwiching you between the two of you. And they held you. They ran their fingers through your hair, held your hand and spoke to you. They held you tight and the three of you stayed close together, with no intention of moving any time soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr

@aestheticdaisies

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@inlovewhithafairytale

@harleycao

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn x reader #spn x sister reader #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural x little sister reader #supernatural fanfiction #hurt/comfort #touch starved #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x sister reader #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x sister reader

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i-isa-i · 11 months

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I think it’s so interesting how much authority is awarded “the author” in different fandoms. You always here people scream “Death of the Author” but still hold up authorship as an authoritative concept.

Like, when Buffy had bad storylines the consensus was something like ‘trust Joss Whedon” who btw turned out to be a horrible person.

Similarly, Kripke was kind of deified by the fandom (and also kind of by the show) during early seasons spn.

Even disclaimers on fanfics show this dynamic. Why did we write stuff like ‘these characters belong to JKR’?!? Like no shit, I didn’t create Sirius Black but the character still doesn’t belong to that woman?

It’s so interesting to look at the stark difference between gomens and spn fan discourse at the moment. I’m not saying one way is the right way, just that the dynamics are interesting.

Neil says something and most people respect it, some even see it as their duty to act as his apostle and spread his word. People are in his asks to try and get his opinion on certain fan theory bc they consider him the ultimate authority over canon.

And then you have spn fans, especially destiel fans. Not only do they not care what kripke/ dabb or most of the show runners say, they actively oppose the “authors”’ perceived interpretations of the characters and routinely make fun of them. Dabb says he wrote a finale that is only meant to satisfy 30% of the fans and the rest of the fandom decides to strike it from canon and collectively produce enough fix-it fic to fill a library.

Can you imagine what would have happened if Dabb or Kripke or whoever had asked the fandom to keep a spoiler or leak like the gomens one a secret?!? It would have become a meme in 5 seconds and it would have trended above a historic election.

#Fandom meta #fandom culture #spn #gomens #death of the author #supernatural #destiel #fanfic and authorship #neil gaiman #andrew dabb #eric kripke #buffy #i do not support jkr #gomens s2 #gomens leak #good omens #good omens discourse

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iprobablyshipit91 · 10 months

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Beautiful

Genre: hurt, comfort, fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size!Female Reader

Word Count: 645

Warnings: body issues, negative thoughts, post pregnancy insecurities

SPN Masterlist

I’ve been feeling a bit down the last few days and this happened kind of out of nowhere but it felt good to write something. Sending love to anyone feeling insecure about their body for whatever reason. You are beautiful just the way you are 💕

You look in the mirror with a frown tugging down at the corners of your lips and sigh heavily. In nothing but your underwear it's hard not to notice the way your body has undoubtedly changed over the last year. Your thighs are a bit thicker, your hips a bit wider, your stomach a lot rounder. Your body has always been thicker set, but strong and capable of fighting as was needed for hunting. Now all you see is soft lines and the pattern of discoloured skin now running in lines down your whole stomach.

You’re no stranger to stretch marks and scars, but these feel different somehow. They’re so wide and the colour of them so vivid that they’re all you can see. And there’s just so damn many of them. The whole of your lower stomach is covered.

The worst thing is that Dean still looks, well incredible. You swear he somehow gets even more handsome as he ages which is entirely unfair. He's still muscular and fit, despite the unlimited amount of burgers and pies he seems to devour. And even though you know it’s ridiculous as it’s not like his body had to grow and change to accommodate a small human, you know that’s not the issue. It's not jealousy that Dean’s body is, in your eyes, flawless. It's that stupid, creeping insecurity that whispers nonsense in your mind, that tells you Dean will want to find someone equally as flawless. Someone who looks like the girls at the bars he used to chase in his younger days.

It's crap and you know it. He gave those habits up long ago and you know he loves you for so much more than the body you steer through the world. But inner voices are nothing if not cruel at the worst of times. You sigh, finger tracing down one of the jagged lines when the door opens behind you.

"Sweetheart, have you s-“

Dean stops, mid-step and mid-sentence, catching sight of you judging yourself in the mirror. You scramble to grab your t-shirt, discarded on the bed, but Dean beats you there, crossing the room in a few short strides and standing between you and the mattress, blocking your way.

"What are you doing?" His question is soft, eyes searching your face and noticing the frown lines that have etched themselves into your forehead.

"Nothing," you whisper, embarrassed at having been caught. You avoid Dean’s eye, but he slips a hand beneath your chin and lifts your face to his.

"You're my favourite, most beautiful girl," he says, looking deep into your eyes before pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head, "Nothing is ever going to change that, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, closing your eyes as a tear slips unbidden down your cheek. He releases you gently, his hands moving slowly down your arms before landing on your hips. The heavy weight of his hands on your skin somehow makes you feel better. It’s a reminder that there is so much more to both of you than your flawed skin and perfectly imperfect bodies.

"I love you, Sweetheart. Exactly the way you are." Dean’s words are a breath against your lips but said with so much conviction that you feel your heart soar. “And these right here,” the back of his fingers stroke gently down the lines on your stomach, tracing the same path yours did just moments ago. “These show what an incredible job you did of carrying and protecting our little boy. I will forever be grateful and so proud of you.”

You close your eyes again, a few more tears spilling over but a small smile graces your face. Dean wipes your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs before he pulls you into a deep kiss that tells you love is more than just skin-deep.

#iprobablyshipit91 writes #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #protective!dean winchester #dean winchester #dean x you #fluff #SPN #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #insecure reader

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luna-writes-stuff · 6 months

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As Long As It’s Not About Love, Dean Winchester

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Fluff

Word count: 2141

Tw: Brief mentions of injuries/blood, spoilers for all SPN seasons, you get a dog (no excuses). Dean struggles to say ‘I love you’. Some pining, but it’s all resolved. This was written in an hour and you can tell.

Summary: The three times Dean wants to say the L-word, but he can’t. And the one time he does.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“From the first time we touched with our eyes Only magic could take away my heart. I am always afraid for my heart.”

For as long as you’d known Dean, you knew he could never say the L-word. You had known this when you became friends and you had known this when you became a couple. It never seemed to bother you. Friends around you had thrown it around like a casual thing, but Dean seemed to attach more meaning than most to that word. He never outwardly discussed it with you, but you knew it bothered him at times. It never bothered you, though. No matter how long the two of you had been dating, you found peace with his reluctance.

Dean, however, did not. He loved you - he knew he did, which was exactly why it bothered him so much. If his feelings told him one thing, but his mouth couldn’t voice it, where would that leave him?

He had tried to tell you. Many, many times. But there was always something, or someone that would interfere. More often than not, that was his own conscious.

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies, sweet lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The first time he almost said it, had been a sheer moment of fear. Hunting halfgods sometimes appeared to be more challenging than you were originally led to believe. He and Sam had sprung the perfect trap: you and Dean would serve as easy bait as Sam would try to sneak from behind. But plans always worked better in theory.

The god had been aware of your scheme, and had set his very own trap, leaving Sam unconscious on the floor the second he had opened the back door. Neither you nor Dean had enough time to react before you were both on the floor.

When you awoke, all three of you had been tied to a chair, your wrists bound tightly together, almost restricting the blood flow. Dean remembered all too well how he had felt that day. The halfgod had loomed over your figure, taunting and threatening you, almost enjoying the way the Winchesters reacted.

From the back of your chair, you managed to clumsily reach Dean’s hand, clinging to it tightly. When he felt it shake within his own, he would have whispered any words to comfort you, but there hadn’t been much else he could besides show the same stone cold expression, not daring to let the god know he had been pushing all the right buttons.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world? Fall forever and never look behind. But I must keep my heart from my mind.”

It was when you finally returned to the motel after slaying him, that reality began to dawn upon him. You had been frightened that day - mortified. And there was nothing either of you could do besides watching it happen.

When it took you longer than usual to get out of the bathroom, he had entered the room and found you upon the floor, your head in your hands as you silently wept out all the left-over stress. He had sat down on the floor beside you, not saying anything. His arms wrapped around you as he forced you into his hold, his embrace grounding you as you found yourself slowly coming back down to Earth.

The blood on his shirt was a rude interruption to your eyes. Where calmness had finally begun to settle in, you now found yourself reliving it again. Your sobs grew harder again as Dean began to gently shush you, his fingers tracing figures on your back.

Mumbles of desperation escaped you without full context, and - though he had no idea what you were saying - Dean knew you were trying to make everything make sense in your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” He muttered into your hair. “I…” His breath hitched slightly, a dawning feeling settling in his stomach.

He couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The second time was after Dean came back from the post-apocalyptic dimension. You had stayed behind with Rowena, watching over Lucifer. Rowena had insisted she didn’t need the help, but Dean would rather have you safe in the bunker than possibly stuck in a world where angels ran haywire.

When Lucifer had shown up on the other side of the portal, his blood had almost run cold. First, he lost Sam - who eventually came back -, then Lucifer would be terrorising Jack, and to top it all off, the devil loved to boast about how terrified you were of him.

In truth, you had kept yourself standing for quite a while. You had almost gained his respect for it. But you were still a mortal, and you stood no chance against an archangel. Not even a fallen, half-fuelled one. Not when he was pissed.

Rowena had cast him out before he could deal any severe damage, so the words he had spoken to Dean had been nowhere close to the truth. He hadn’t gutted you, tortured you or put your head on a spike. Dean hadn’t truly believed all of his words either, but they chilled him to his core nonetheless. There was no easy way to check up on you; nothing would soothe him but perhaps his own mind. And it caused a terrible distraction to him in the whole escaping plan.

“Oh, the last time we touched with our eyes And the magic was stronger than the heart. Oh, I can't run away with my heart.”

When Dean finally resurfaced, he was met with your bloodied face, a hasty plaster just beneath your left eye. Confusion was evident on your face, but he dismissed it. The people behind him could be introduced later.

His bag immediately fell to the floor, a heavy sigh escaping him as he walked towards you in three long strides. His arms wrapped around you tightly, squeezing your back as his head fell in the crook of your neck.

“You’re safe,” He uttered, swallowing down the urge to let out a choked cry. “You’re alright.” His hands rose to your cheeks as you parted, his eyes staring into yours with relief. A comforting kiss was placed upon your lips as he revelled in the feeling of your warm hands covering his. You were alive - you were well.

“I…” Again, that dreadful feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Your eyes showed empathy; you knew. He didn’t have to say it. He wanted to. He just couldn’t.

“I missed you so much.”

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as they're not about love.”

The third time was during Chuck’s impending doom situation. Worlds had already been destroyed, and you knew it was just a waiting game now until yours would be next. You had lived through apocalypses, dimensions and times, but impending doom had been your worst experience thus far. There was nothing you could do to stop it. Sam and Dean were adamant and stubborn, always ready to fight, but even now they began to see that perhaps, this truly had been the end.

“So, what’s next?” Sam sighed, multiple papers strewn on the table in front of him. You and Dean sat on the other side of him, a bored expression on both of your faces. “I hate to be the one to say this,” You sighed. “But I think acceptance is really all there is now.”

You felt Dean’s eyes turn to you. “Really?” “Yes, really, Dean.” You clarified. “We’re fighting God. We can’t win that one.” “We can’t just give up.” “Then, what do you suggest we do?” You shouted, all pent up frustration suddenly tumbling out. “Bring him a gift basket with a note ‘please, don’t kill us’? Maybe he’ll show some sympathy!” You rose from your seat, the chair falling on the floor behind you with your movement. “We’re going to die! The sooner we accept that, the better! Makes it a lot easier.” Though the last part was mumbled, you were sure the guys heard it too. You didn’t want them to respond to it. You turned around, heading out the library towards your room.

“Sweetheart, come on!” Dean called after you, also rising from his seat, but you had already disappeared. Sam cast him an apologetic glance. “Ah, save it.” His brother groaned, taking off after you.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world Fall forever.”

A soft knock was heard on the door before the knob slowly turned. “Sweetheart?” “Leave it, Dean.” You groaned, curled up on the bed, which you had almost forgotten you shared. “No,” He answered, before the door closed. A moment of silence fell over the room before the bed slightly dipped behind you. A hand gently made its way to your shoulder, placing comfort there.

“How do you find any solace in all of this?” You muttered, hugging a pillow closer to you. “I don’t.” He answered honestly. “But we can’t afford to stop fighting. If I did, I would have been dead ten years ago.” “You were dead ten years ago.” You countered. A chuckle escaped him at your remark. You turned your head at the sound, showing him a faint smile.

“We’ll keep fighting,” He returned, his voice equally hushed. “Until we fall down. We don’t stop fighting until we stop breathing.” His hand lowered over your arm, finding your hand instead. As his fingers intertwined with yours, he gave you a pleading look: “Please, don’t stop fighting. If we can get five more days, I’d like to spend them with you.”

You let out a low scoff at that. Not in annoyance, but in agreement. You brought your hands up to your mouth, placing a light kiss on the back of Dean’s hand. “I love you, Dean.” You whispered against it, your eyes looking up to look into his. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“Take my heart away but, no You can't say words about love.”

When he finally managed to say it, he didn’t even think of it. Where he had once tried to find proper words for every situation, he had now come to accept things as they were.

When Jack had brought everything back, you and Dean decided to take off on your own. Sam wanted to leave the hunting life behind, and after everything the three of you had been through, you completely understood him. And to your surprise, so had Dean. Both of you had settled into a typical white fence house, the occasional demon traps hidden under doormats and salt lining every window. But besides that, you seemed to have found somewhat of a normal life.

Much to Dean’s demand, you had gotten a dog, caring for it as if it had been a child. Walks were always shared together, a great way for both of you to get some exercise without having to hunt everything that hadn’t seemed relatively normal.

“If the magic comes between us And we never meet again. Take a part of me away.”

And that was exactly how he had found himself in that situation. On a bench in a dog park, sitting directly next to you, your head on his shoulder. He never thought he’d find himself enjoying a simple life, but there he sat, watching his dog run with the others while both of you sat in blissful peace.

“I was thinking of going to that new steakhouse downtown tonight.” You mumbled, a faint smile on your face as you felt Dean’s shoulders shift slightly with his laughter. “Bought some pie for when we get home afterwards.”

“That sounds amazing,” He groaned. “Good,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Because I already made the reservation.” A fond smile crossed his face as he leaned his head against yours.

“God, I love you.”

Your body tensed simultaneously with his as his words were spoken. Lifting your head, you gave him a surprised look, unable to suppress the grin growing on your face. Dean copied your look, a low chuckle escaping him as he processed his words.

“I do,” He reassured. “I love you.” You laughed at that, your hands falling around his shoulders as you brought him in for a hug. “I love you.” He repeated between kisses placed on your collarbones. Then, he kept you at arms distance, unable to deny a second laugh. A firm kiss was placed upon your lips - one you gleefully returned. “I love you.” He spoke again, placing a second kiss on your forehead.

“God, I love you too, Dean Winchester.”

“'Cause maybe it's all about love, love.”

#november writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Jensen ackles

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wildgirllz · 1 year

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only if you’re comfortable!! tw panic attacks & anxiety

i’ve been watching SO much spn lately, & i can’t stop thinking about sam helping me calm down from a panic attack. like maybe they’re on a case, the reader is fine throughout, but as soon as the adrenaline wears off, she’s miserable. but then sam finds her, holds her & they talk.

if you do end up writing this thank you so much, & please take your time! i appreciate you taking this request at all.

Ofc! Here you go <3

Summary: Sam helps Reader through a panic attack

Warnings: Panic Attacks & Anxiety

Y/N had always loved the thrill of the hunt. The rush that came with taking down a monster, the feeling of accomplishment when a case was solved, and the sense of purpose that came with being a hunter. But there was one thing that she didn't love - the panic attacks that often came after the adrenaline wore off.

It was a particularly difficult case, but Y/N had managed to keep her cool throughout. She and the Winchesters had tracked down a shapeshifter that had been terrorizing a small town, and after a tense showdown, they had managed to take it down. Y/N had felt triumphant in the moment, but as soon as the excitement had worn off, she felt her heart racing and her breath coming in short gasps.

She tried to hide it from the Winchesters, but Sam had always been able to read her like a book. He found her sitting in the back of the Impala, her hands shaking as she tried to catch her breath.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting down next to her. "Are you okay?"

Y/N shook her head, unable to speak. Sam took her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it in a soothing motion.

"Just breathe," he said, his voice low and steady. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Y/N followed his instructions, focusing on her breathing as she tried to calm down. Sam's hand on hers was comforting, and she found herself relaxing a little.

"That's it," Sam said, a small smile on his face. "You're doing great."

Y/N took a few more deep breaths, and finally felt her heart rate start to slow down. She looked up at Sam, feeling embarrassed for having a panic attack in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't be sorry," Sam said, squeezing her hand. "It happens to all of us. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding. They sat in silence for a few moments, and Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her.

"Thank you," she said finally, looking up at Sam with a small smile.

"Anytime," he said, his own smile widening. "You know I'm always here for you, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. She leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his presence next to her.

"Sam?" she said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Can we stay like this for a little while longer?"

"Of course," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "As long as you want."

They stayed like that for a while longer, Y/N feeling safe and comforted in Sam's embrace. As the sun started to set, they finally got up and made their way back to the motel

#sam winchester x plus size reader #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x fem!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester comfort

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justjensenanddean · 11 months

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Jensen Ackles Solo Panel | JIBCon 2023 (June 17, 2023)

(NuttyForAckles)

Jensen was headbanging to Smells Like Teen Spirit with Jason, then mentioned that he has that "writer‘s strike hair flow". (x)

jensen will be at the monday concert (x)

‘Take the guitar away, I’ll just sing on Monday!’ (x)

Monday‘s band will be called "No Rob". (x)

Jensen has always wanted to go to Brazil. But when he finally got there, they had so much work to do that he had to stay in the hotel and he never left. He didn’t get to meet locals or see anything. In his mind he hasn’t been there yet. (x)

His prep for Beau Arlen & Ben? Since he didn’t have the history he had with Dean, he had to dig into personal feelings. (x)

Jensen has a major short term memory to learn lines but his long term memory isn’t as good. He has intense scenes and then purges the feelings. (x)

As Beau, he took what he’d feel if the things were happening to his daughter and then tailored it a bit. A lot of Dean was him. As Soldier Boy, for the scene with Butcher about his dad, he dove into Dean and John, because he has a good relationship with his dad. (x)

And in the end he just pretended. Some people can do it and some can’t. Some can paint, some can write, some can do Math. He can’t draw a stick figure, but he can *play* (x)

Dean and Soldier Boy were both just looking for their father’s approval. Jensen jokes that he wondered if he was being type cast. Ben had an opportunity to make it better with his son & grandson, but in the end he reverted back to his DNA. (x)

jensen said that for emotional scene he filmed for soldier boy (about soldier boy's father) he leaned into dean's relationship with john (because jensen has good rs with his own father) (x) he joked about getting type casted for characters with basically daddy issues (x)

Jensen and Jared have both been invited to Hot Ones and wanted to do it years ago, but they couldn’t work it out. And now they have stars so big, he probably won’t get invited anymore. (x)

someone asked about the rumors about batman and jensen was like “i don’t know” “even i know about it i’m not telling you” and he started laugh. (x)

What about being in a top 3 list to play Batman? He doesn’t know, but even if he would know, he wouldn’t tell us. Could he do it? Sure. Does he want to? Yes. (x)

‘When I’m Batman, does my voice have to be… much different?’ (x)

Musical interruption. Jensen is confused and wants to keep answering questions. (x)

The music indicated that he had to spin the wheel. It lands on “drink” and he hugs the wheel, “it’s like it knows me”. He doesn’t actually pour one though but goes back to answering. (x)

(NuttyForAckles)

There were many scenes surrounding the Impala where Jensen had to become Dean and he’d yell at the team when they were driving it or when Jared banged against the car or fart in it. “Not on the seat, she’s been through enough.” So he knew he had to own the car. (x)

One of his old friends got offered Eric Brady on DooL and he called Jensen before accepting. Jensen said “great, knock it out of the park.” (x)

Apparently Mr Rhodes, his first job, was a multicamera sitcom. It was the best schedule he’s been on so far. Soap Opera is next because they have 40+ actors. They will shoot all 80 pages his character has consecutively, shoot an hour or two. They produce one episode in 1hr (x)

You start by 9 am and get a few short breaks, end of the day, 7:30 pm, 80 pages done and he can go home. Daytime actors don’t get enough credit for having to jam in so much story in a short time. On The Boys they get 15 days for 1 episode. (8 on SPN). (x)

One of the actresses on DooL told him first day „hit your mark, say your lines, stay out of my light“. He said „yes ma’am“, earned her respect and she took care of him big time later. (x)

When he went to lunch with Alison Sweeney, who played his evil twin sister, she got heckled and Jensen defended her immediately. She told him to stop because if people hate her, that means she‘s doing her job. (x)

Rich tells us that Jensen is a sitcom and he has his own catchphrase. He plays Jensen entering the set at morning or any room late. "What are we doing?" He has developed a special greeting with Richard out of it. (x)

(NuttyForAckles)

Jensen spend several birthdays in Brad Creasser‘s house, with his wife cooking him dinner. He‘s a good friend of Richard‘s too. Rich acts out a scene on set one day and Jensen is in tears. (x)

When Jensen walked on set of Big Sky, he also went "What are we doing?" Nobody answered, so he repeated it louder. (x)

(Julie_Fleming)

#Jensen Ackles #JIB13 #JIBCon2023 2 #Jensen: Panel Highlights #*

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fangirleaconmigo · 10 months

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So I’ve been a bit absent. Putting a ‘read more’ because shit in my life has gotten very real very quickly.

One of my younger sisters went to urgent care with stomach discomfort last Tuesday. It turned out that she had a huge mass in her pelvis, (18x25 cm) and our lives were plunged into a black hole of fear.

In the past week/weekend, she’s gotten blood tests and referrals for more scans. Every test result is more ominous and terrifying than the last. It is definitely ovarian cancer and she will need a major surgery and we don’t know what else.

In one day, I moved her completely into my house. She gave notice on hers. We are trying to find foster care for her cats while she is in treatment because she can’t care for them during, and neither can I.

We still haven’t had a proper prognosis and treatment plan. That will be today, I hope. I am about to drive her to her first actual appointment with a real oncologist.

It’s early and I’m lying awake in my bed. I haven’t slept much in the past weeks. I go to sleep googling ovarian cancer, and I wake up and google ovarian cancer, and I feel like an entire house is crushing me. I can barely breathe. I have to go fetal position for a few minutes sometimes during the day to get through it.

We need some hope today. We need some good news. We need, at the very minimum, a plan for her care. Something to focus on.

Please keep us in your thoughts and send us some love and good will. She is either in shock or being very brave but she could get hopeful, or devastating news today (or more terrifying limbo) and I don’t know where that will leave us.

I won’t try to tell you how much my sister means to me. But I will say that we grew up together in an isolated family with shitty, monstrous, abusive parents and it fused us together in profound ways. I raised her to the extent that a child can raise another child. (It’s like that John Mulaney joke where he said his babysitter was so young, it was like a horse caring for a dog lol)

We are both super sci-fi fantasy nerds. I watch tv with her probably three to four nights a week, and we can talk for LITERAL HOURS about the intricacies of the writing and the characters on the various franchises. We usually agree, but we probably woke the neighbors with our argument about who the best Doctor Who companion was.

We work at the same hospital and share an office one day a week, and the people in the hall probably hear our elaborate Star Wars or MCU theories.

I know better than to get her started about certain things, but no matter what I do, every Thanksgiving she gives an entire speech about how the LOTR movie adaptations failed Gimli, son of Gloin.

We’ve been to Supernatural cons (we’ve both written SPN fic), and SDCC together many times. Actually, we went to ECCC together this year, so @spacecores and @roguepyrola met her and can attest to the fact that she is a mouthy, down to earth, absolutely brilliant, funny, foul mouthed, nerdy ass bitch.

I NEED HER, ok, I FUCKIN NEED HER.

So if you meditate, pray, send intentions, I don’t care what it is, I need it today. Her appointment is in about three hours and we need some hope.

Thanks for reading, friends. ♥️ I know this isn’t fandom related but we’re all real life human beings here with real lives, and that’s what is happening in mine.

#random irl post #ovarian cancer #sister

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 5 months

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A Night By The Fireplace

Summary/Prompt - SPN Pond Secret Santa: Stuck home because of a snowstorm

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: This one goes out to @little-diable you said you like to read angst and smut so I tried to give you a bit of both along with some fluff to balance it out. I hope it’s ok. Merry Christmas!

Also, Thank you so much to @spnfanficpond for organising this fun, festive event. I had a lot of fun writing this!

Warnings: angst and SMUT

The notification you have been dreading all day pops up on your phone: All Flights Departing Austin, Texas Cancelled - Pending Weather Conditions

You sigh as you look out your shared bedroom window at the blizzard blowing past outside. Having watched the local weather last night you knew it was coming, not that your native-Texan husband believed you at the time. You dump your packed suitcase on the ground beside the bed and stomp out of the room in search of your husband to pass along the news.

Hearing your footsteps, he interjects quickly holding his phone up with the same alert. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Let me have it, you told me so.”

“I did tell you so! We should have moved the flights up! I told you!”

“I know. But in my defence, when have we ever had a white Christmas in Austin?”

“The other year, when this exact same thing happened! When we first got married!”

“Apart from that?”

“Jensen!”

“I know, Honey. I’m so sorry.” He walks closer to you to pull you into a hug but you push his hands away.

“No, I’m too busy now. I’ve gotta call everyone and let them know we’re not gonna make Christmas because my husband is a colossal dick and wouldn’t listen to his wife!”

“You think I wanted to get stranded here in Austin? I just didn’t expect it to actually blizzard!”

You roll your eyes at him and dump your phone down on the bench. “No, you know what? You call everyone and let them down!”

With that, you storm out of the room and back upstairs to try and destress. You decide to run a bath to warm up from the unusual cold and relax your body and mind.

After a while, you hear a soft knock on the door. Before your husband steps inside with an apologetic look. He kneels beside the tub dipping his fingertips in the warm water.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you and changed the flights. I called everyone and let them know what happened and took full blame.”

“I’m sorry too, the snowstorm isn’t your fault.”

“This feels like it’s getting cold. How about you come downstairs?” He leans down and kisses you before standing up and holding your towel out for you. Once you stand up he wraps you up in it and then pulls you into his arms. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed and meet you in the lounge.”

You quickly slip on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and then hurry downstairs to catch up with Jensen. Downstairs you’re met with a beautiful picnic mat spread out on the floor in front of the crackling electric fireplace with two hot chocolates, popcorn, chocolate-coated strawberries and some pasta carbonara from your favourite Italian restaurant. He pats the spot on the floor next to him and you take a seat. He wraps one arm around your shoulders, grabs a strawberry with his free hand and holds it up to your lips. You take a big bite and let out a small involuntary moan at the sweet mix of the juice and rich dark chocolate.

“A quiet Christmas with just the two of us wouldn’t be so bad,” you admit when you finish chewing.

“I know I’m away for work so often. So I always want to make the most of the time when I’m with you.”

“You definitely know how to do that.”

“Well, there’s one more treat for you. You get to pick the movie, no complaints from me, I promise.”

“Really? Even a chick flick?”

“Whatever you want.” He hands you the remote.

You flick through Netflix before settling on a sappy Christmas movie. As the movie fills the background you tuck into the array of delicious food Jensen collected for you. You take turns feeding each other the strawberries until they’re all gone. Then you lay back on the cushions he scattered around and cuddle as you enjoy the movie.

After a few minutes, you can tell he’s getting bored as he starts to leave kisses all down the side of your neck as his hands drift south, massaging your sides until they slip under the hem of your (his) hoodie. You tip your head back exposing more skin to him which he promptly takes advantage of as he climbs on top of you. He works his way back up with his lips and nibbles on your earlobe before whispering, “I thought you were watching the movie?”

“You’re blocking it,” you reply with a moan as he nips you again.

“Want me to stop?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, “don’t you dare.”

He chuckles lowly before grinding his lower half against yours causing you both to moan. He slides the hoodie off your body and throws it off to the side. “Really, baby? Are you just as bare under these sweats?”

“Maybe…” you say teasingly before being cut off by a moan as he slides a hand up to squeeze your boobs, lightly running his thumb over your erect nipples.

“So sexy…right here with you is so much better than being stuck in a plane or with family where I have to control myself around you. This right here is all I want and need for Christmas.” He kisses your lips quickly, not letting you deeper it, as he pulls away and works his way back across your cheek, down the centre of your neck, onto your chest, circling your breasts before finally kissing over each of your nipples. You moan out loudly and buck your hips into his at the stimulation, but he pins your hips down with a strong hand on your waist as he takes his time licking, nipping and sucking each nipple and breast until he’s left satisfactory marks all over them.

“Baby! Jensen, please! I need more!” You groan out, not completely sure what you even want apart from just more of him. You claw at his shirt-covered back trying to pull it up. After a moment he gets the message and sits up a little to yank it off and throw it over with yours.

When he leans back down he kisses you again before asking, “How are you? Want me to take you up to bed?”

You shake your head as you glance over at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree you’re now glad you insisted on setting up and decorating early despite your holiday plans. You look back into his forest-green eyes and smile. “I’m perfect right here.”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to continue his pleasurable assault on your body. Working his way down to your belly button and waistband, leaving a trail of wet kisses all the way. When he finally dips his fingers under the elastic he pulls it up and then lets it snap back against your hips causing them to jolt up. With little exploring needed, he can already tell you’re commando underneath which has him straining against his jeans even more than before, if that were even possible.

“Stop teasing!” You beg desperately, which he finds so sexy. It spurs him on to finally slip your sweats down your legs gently and onto the floor with the rest of your discarded clothing. But much to your dismay he continues to tease; kissing along your hips and down to your thighs, skipping over where you want him most, he kisses all the way down to your ankles and even leaves a featherlight kiss on each instep before working his way back up the other leg until he’s face-to-face with your core.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he softly orders. Only when your eyes flutter open and meet his, does he finally kiss your clit. You try to fight against your eyelids, but as his tongue darts out to draw patterns you lose the battle and squeeze them shut, throwing your head back again moaning his name and a collection of profanities. As his tongue and mouth continue to work their magic on you he brings one hand up spreading your labia open before sliding one finger inside you easily. Thanks to his attentive foreplay you’re already so wet and ready for him. He easily slides in two more and curls his three fingers up and forward to reach the spongy spot inside that has you crying out even louder and trying to buck your hips against him for more. He continues to work his fingers and mouth against your sex until he finally feels the familiar clenching on his fingers. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well! Come all over my fingers.”

Without much extra effort necessary he pushes you over the edge, causing you to follow his instructions. He works you through it, not stopping his movements until you’re completely limp and exhausted beneath him. You shutter as he pulls his fingers out of you and sucks them clean, moaning at the taste.

Once you catch your breath a little you slide your hands down his chest and stomach to his waistband, but he captures your hands, stopping you. “Tonight’s not about me. That was my apology for not listening to you. You just lay back and relax. I’ll tidy up here and then we can go to bed.” He kisses you tenderly before standing up, stretching and gathering all the empty food containers and mugs and taking them to the kitchen. Leaving you alone, exhausted and blissed out on the rug in front of the fireplace.

#jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x you

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chaoticfandomgirly · 3 months

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I love Supernatural, but let's acknowledge that it's in no way one of the best shows when it comes in terms of production and writing.

Despite the blatant homophobia shown in the show by killing almost every queer character and giving us destiel breadcrumbs, I did not like Dean's character in the last 2-3 seasons at all.

And I am saying this as someone who stans Dean wholeheartedly.

But, his whole relationship with Jack that had progressed so much really crumbled in s15. His initial wariness of Jack when he was first introduced made sense. However, after the whole Mary being killed off thing and Dean holding a grudge, even though it was sort of established that Dean posed as a father figure for Jack, really monumentally pissed me off. Like COME ON, why do you have to erase all his character arc? It really didn't make sense to me, as I just couldn't see the real Dean being like that. It felt forced and really out of character. And Sam really was the only one acting with some rationality and a semblance.

People would say that the spn finale, ruined the show. I would say it was definitely the whole of s15 that was a disappointment.

Besides this, WHAT HAPPENED TO CLAIRE? She quickly became one of my favourite and most anticipated guest characters. I really enjoyed her episodes. But then, the show never even explored into hers and Castiel's relationship? Like what the actual fuck? I thought it would be gr8 to see two of them together, and all I got was a big pile of nada. It was such a good plot point too! I was totally gone on Cas acting as a protective father for Claire, and then it was it. Nothing else whatsoever between them. Not to mention how Wayward sisters never came to be. 'Cause I sure as hell adored those characters. There was soo much to explore.

There are a lot of other things but these two are what constantly piss me off whenever they cross my mind.

The real villains were the showrunners not Chuck.

Anyways, I felt like ranting and now that it's over, have a lovely day everyone!

#supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #crowley #claire novak #castiel #spn #sam winchester #supernatural sam winchester #shit showrunners #claire and cas #deserved more #screen time

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charcubed · 1 year

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Hi. I tend to forget that tumblr exists and just shout all my thoughts about The Winchesters on Twitter @CharCubed, which is a problem, but for once in my life I'm posting something here!

Here are some broad Thoughts on where I've landed of what this season 1 finale of The Winchesters offered–

• I very much want season 2 of this show SO badly. I want to see how they all continue to build their lives now that we know tragedy need not be their end! THIS IS THE HEALING SHOW. That whole cast gets to write their own story... "the only thing that's worse than how it starts for a hunter is how it ends" is no longer the case, as Carlos already said... and Dean helped to free them? That fucks.

• In regards to those possibilities: now that Dean would no longer be framing the prequel as a story he's telling, it frees the prequel up to no longer be doubling as Dean's story through revealing mirroring–which is very much what it's been doing for 12 episodes. Now the monster plots and the storylines for those characters in The Winchesters can also be diversified, so every episode no longer has to include, for example... [checks notes] a situation where a character is literally and/or metaphorically trapped and has to confront their trauma, break cycles of violence, and speak truths to be freed. It's been very Loud and very much Like This Constantly because it's Dean's story, but now it won't have to be anymore, which is an interesting thing to contemplate! (To be clear, for those unaware of my history of yelling about this show: I love that it was Like This. This show is fucking genius.)

• Initially, this finale had some alarm bells pinging in my brain but then I parsed the Reasons for those things. Mary told John she had "Something to say," right? And then she never says it. That's a Chekhov's gun that's never fired and it's of course paralleling how Dean has "something to say" to Cas too. Them not speaking that truth is a problem. In addition, we also got a montage eerily akin to the 15x19 one. But these callbacks / parallels to s15 all loudly indicate something very specific: The Winchesters is an unfinished story, and this finale (like the rest of this show) is mirroring and revealing truths about the prime narrative of SPN. For one thing, with the prequel they originally expected to have 22 or so episodes and ended up having 13 to work with. For another... this is the START of their story, not the end. So along those lines, what can we deduce about the end of season 15? (Hint: that finale is not an ending either.)

• Speaking of which: We learn that everything Dean was just doing takes place in the ~heavenly~ time period before Sam “dies." This all functionally happened right after Dean died as he drove down that road. He is restless, unmoored, grieving, and–this is key–considers his "ending" to be an unhappy happy one. He's fucking around and finding out, looking for and unpacking (through his narration) what he needs and wants for HIS happy ending to look like. He found out about the Akrida being a failsafe from Chuck and couldn't resist meddling to save everyone. It's also worth noting that Dean says to Jack something like, "If you have to kick me out of Heaven then that's fine." Between the lines is the thought of "please kick me out of Heaven, I'm causing problems because I'm grieving and I'm not done, I don't want this 'peace' but would rather have freedom." That in itself is a massive subversion of the SPN finale, to say nothing of the previous 12 episodes we've received.

Anyway. So in terms of Dean's story, we now know that this all takes place smack in the middle of 15x20 timeline-wise. This checks out because Bobby's presence connects to him being the only one we saw in 15x20. And... what I personally consider to be Jack's incredibly fucked up or ~potentially taken over by Chuck~ vibes are, in that sense, consistent with 15x19 as well. (I'm so sorry but please let me drop this cursed "Alex Calvert playing Chuck" joke by Jensen from August 2022 which haunts me.)

So: nothing about the concept that @chuckwon at the end of season 15 has been confirmed or denied in canon at this point. The idea that Chuck LOST, as Dean says here, is simply what Dean may still be thinking (which makes sense). But nothing has fundamentally changed about the state of how season 15 left things in the prime narrative yet... largely because that's not what this story is / was about.

In terms of what this finale presented to us, I think "Chuck won" potential was all deliberately left open. And I continue to Call Bullshit on the finale accordingly. A Chuck won plot line COULD be used in a future sequel to great affect, or it could NOT be used in a future sequel. That will be totally up to the future authors / team behind that potential sequel to see what story they choose to tell, and where it all may or may not go. But until then (on that front) right now it's the same shit, different show, and deliberately literally nothing about that potential has changed.

• I LOVE all of the above now that I've parsed it all in my brain. It makes perfect sense. Much like we were never going see the gay angel pop up in this show and kiss Dean (with apologies to anyone who somehow thought otherwise?)... leaving other things open like this is fantastic and the objectively correct call. Dean's story is HIS story to be furthered elsewhere, whereas this show belonged and continues to belong to its cast of characters who must take center stage. But through this story within a story narrated by Dean himself, we learned a hell of a lot about his state of mind as it actively stands in 15x20. Or more accurately: the entire show reinforces and reiterates comprehensively and repeatedly that the SPN finale was wrong and bad and not the end of the story at all, and now canonically and openly and in no uncertain terms that that's how Dean feels too.

• AND THUS: season 1 of The Winchesters works as deeply clever and layered commentary on Supernatural's ending and presents the stepping stone for a sequel continuation for Dean and his family. It's also the beginning of a new chapter with endless potential for The Winchesters' cast of characters who are not tied to fate or main timeline.

I fucking love it here.

Truly, madly, deeply: ALL HAIL ROBBIE THOMPSON.

And seriously, I really hope we get a season 2 because I adore all of the prequel's characters on their own merit and I want to see what their story can become :')

#the winchesters #spnwin #spnwin meta #the winchesters meta #dean winchester #GO LITTLE ROCKSTAR. FUCK SHIT UP #chuck won theory #chuck won meta #char writes things #ON TUMBLR? NO WAY.#I will likely reblog this to the chuckwon blog eventually

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nocreativityfornames · 2 months

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Hello! Um, I don't know how welcome you are to asks but I kinda wanted to bring up this little headcanon I have of Michael that you may or may not find interesting? Iv posted about it somewhere on my blog, but to summarize it, here

Consider the potential of a Teenage Michael!

Hear me out! I just think there is a lot of potential, not only angst wise but also narrative wise.

I just love the idea of the head angel of the celetial relm being this scrawny teenage boy with issues.

Not only is he a teenager with the responsibility of being the mature older brother to the other angels, therefore, having to step up more in the absence of lucifer, but also having a lowkey abusive father who burdens him with religious trauma.

And I just loove the trope where it's like:

The younger siblings stays behind with abusive parents left to take care of the rest of their family because their older sibling left to live a healthier life. And resentment builds because they think their older sibling abomdoned them.

Also considering how I don't think the devs will make him a villian, I think it would make Michael look way more sympathetic if he was on the younger side.

Is this accurate to what the game has established Michael to be? Not really but they've retconned things before. Not that I'd ever think they'd go along with a concept like this.

Anyways I'm writing this at like 11pm so exuse the spelling errors, I'm so tired 🥲.

Ps. I really like your content :D

I actually REALLY like that, and the angst oh boy :")

I mean, looking back to NB S1 (spoilers!!!) with this in mind makes everything so much sadder. Like how he disguised himself as Raphael just to visit the others in the Devildom because he missed them and didn't know how to interact with them as himself. And also him giving Lucifer that ultimatum to either come back or make the Devildom an enemy of the Celestial Realm as a last attempt to bring his older brother and brothers back (even though deep down he knew they'd refuse) because he was struggling to step up and handle things on his own after he left, especially since the trauma of the war was still fresh for everyone (including himself) and he had to look after the traumatized part of the family that stayed, like you said.

Which is... heartbreaking.

Funny thing though: I always thought Michael to be the oldest one (or them being twins) and your ask made me start thinking about how that would play out in this scenario with the og game stuff in mind.

So like, the older sibling carrying resentment while also being happy for the youngest because they got tired of the abuse and had the courage to stand up to their parent and leave to have a happier life when he couldn't because he still feels tied to that parent and that it's his responsibility and duty to stay with them no matter what (think of Dean and Sam from SPN, who have this exact dynamic and a very complicated relationship with their father).

And then there's the whole thing about Michael being the one to cast out Lucifer and his brothers from the Celestial Realm, which only adds to this. It's like: the younger brother stood up to his father and was met with rage, so the oldest stepped up and to avoid something even worse from happening kicked him out of the house himself.

(@luckykittysshowerthoughts has an amazing post about this that has never left my mind ever since I read it and I recommend everyone reading it)

So we fast-forward to years and years later where the oldest is still living with their parents looking after the siblings who didn't leave while missing his younger brother, worrying for him, and wanting to know how he's doing. So he tries his best to stay in contact and know what's happening but since their relationship has been strained ever since what happened (because from the youngest's POV his older brother betrayed him by not taking his side and kicking him out of the house, which I think was how Lucifer felt for a long time before he saw the bigger picture as he got older) the youngest rejects his attempts at trying to contact him and the oldest's only way to know how he's doing is by sending his other siblings to check up on him or contact the people close to him.

Does he do it to the point where it gets annoying? Yes. Is his constant need to know how his brother is doing making said brother feel even more frustrated with him and only driving him further away? Yes. Would it have been better if he had left the brother alone and waited for him to reach out on his own? Yes. But he can't find it in himself to do that because he'd worry too much and miss him even more.

Tbh, I can see both of these scenarios being true together. So younger Michael right after the fall is still bitter and doesn't want to admit that he misses Lucifer and his brothers (he didn't seem to like to hear that Luke thought he missed them when talking to him as Raphael) and later accepting that and leaving a lot of that resentment behind to just be happy for them and miss them, wanting to know how they're doing often, etc.

So I definitely don't see him as evil either, but more of a broken younger/older sibling who wants to reconnect with his family and whose intentions are good but don't translate very well in his method of doing things.

Sorry for going on my own rambling here, lol

And I'm more than fine with asks, I love discussing stuff about the game and the characters <3

#this ask made me like Michael's character even more. I love it #obey me #obey me michael #obey me lucifer #omnb #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #asks #☙ no creativity for names ✾

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jasmines-library · 2 months

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idea for a little spn and batfamily crossover!

imagine reader being part of the batfamily and maybe like 17-19 and also is the horseman of war. imagine the apocalypse starts and the brothers and cas come looking for her seeking her help and everything

Bringers of The Apocalypse:

Part one: Time to Wield The Blade

Note: this is such a cool concept I couldn’t say no to writing it! When I started writing I honestly wasn’t sure where to go with it at first, but as I carried on I grew to like it. I hope you all do too.

Word Count: 3.1K

BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧ SERIES ML ⛧ SPN MASTERLIST

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

The Horsemen are drawing nearer On leather steeds they ride They've come to take your life On through the dead of night With The Four Horsemen ride Or choose your fate and die

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

It had been coming for a long while. You knew the minute that Dean Winchester was dragged off to hell and the first seal was broken that it was coming. The stench of its inevitability hung as one big fat cloud in the air but at first you still held out a little hope. A spark. A fraction of optimism that somehow someway the Winchesters would find a way to stop the seals being broken. But demons were tricky. You had never like the evil fuckers. You had hoped that Sam and Dean would notice that behind Ruby’s compelling eyes and false smile, there was a snake waiting for her prey to fall right into her trap. But it just so happened that lady luck was not on your side and the cage doors came blasting off their hinges for Lucifer to rise again. And with him would come the apocalypse.

The day was hot, the sky was cloudless and the flowers were in full bloom. It was so nice that you would have been described as perfect if your head didn’t feel like it was being pounded upon by a meat cleaver. It was was because there were there in the back of your mind, whispering away. Your brothers. The other three horsemen: Pestilence, Famine and Death. The bringers of the apocalypse. It had been many years since you had seen them, albeit they would still occasionally pop up in the back of your mind for a chat. A perk of being a celestial being you supposed. Though right now you were trying to shut them out and failing miserably. Sometimes you would find that they grew irritating, constantly disagreeing with each others actions or views. Perhaps that was the reason that after thousands of years together all of you had decided to go your separate ways. That was when you had decided to start over again in Gotham.

You remember the day distinctly. Bruce Wayne had opened you with open arms after you had decided to help them on a patrol with a particularly sticky villain. You were young. Well, younger. Time passes by strangely for a horseman. You have been alive since the very beginning. Since man decided to declare war on another. That was what you did. You aided and guided war. And it was a cruel job. You had seen a lot in your time as a horseman. Some things that made you squeeze your eyes shut until there were wrinkles on your forehead and nose. But someone had to do it. For the longest time it had just been the five of you: you, your brothers and God. For there cannot be no light without dark. No life without death. And while it had been exciting at times…it was lonely. Heart wrenching too for your entire existence was dedicated to something that caused so many people so much pain…often you had just wanted to quit.

You watched the world build foundations and knock them down again and again until it slowly morphed into what it is now. Over that time you had grown to love Earth and its people. Their complexities intrigued you. So, slowly but surely you began to build yourself a life on earth. You began to create your own human identity so that you could feel something more. And so you and your brothers split to begin lives amongst humans. To help keep an eye on things and to carry out your jobs more effectively. After all, it’s much easier to understand someone when you put yourselves in their shoes.

You kept to yourself mostly. You forged yourself an identity. Then came along Bruce Wayne and his espionage of Robins who embraced the real you instead of shunning you away. You felt loved and tried oh so hard to enjoy your time with your family. Until one night Lucifer tore that all away from you.

The feeling cut through you like a knife, tearing the wind from your lungs. Dick would have thought you were dying from a gunshot had it not been for the fact that you had been lounging beside him on the couch when it happened. You clutched at your chest tightly, clawing for breath as though you were suffocating. He was looking at you with wide eyes when you removed your hand from your chest allowing your breathing to finally slow. And there it was, shimmering against the light. Golden lines that twisted around your wrists. They were pretty like: shifting in rich shades of gold that would make even the richest of men jealous, though the meaning made you want to scream and shout. To kick your legs around like a small child just in hope of a small chance that it would disappear. Albeit instead you closed your eyes tight and took a sigh of defeat.

A binding.

Lucifer had bound you to him.

A gentle breeze drifted through the air. It was enough to make the branches dance softly as it passed through providing a small moment of relief against the warm summer's afternoon. The sun was still high in the sky, casting golden shadows against the ground that moved as she pivoted in the sky. It was truly a nice evening, so you had decided to sit in the garden to enjoy the day for once.

You had chosen a lounge chair tucked away by the flowers. They were in full bloom and adorned the garden with shades of reds, pinks and whites. It was a nice burst of colour against all of the green hedges that Alfred kept pruned back cleanly.

At first, you wanted to curl up with a book and catch a bit of sunshine but you had long since set that aside on the pillow next to you. You hadn’t really been reading it anyway; more like scanning the words blankly without letting them even register in your mind before you had moved on.

The truth was you were distracted. You had been since the minute Lucifer placed those bonds on your skin. It began to affect your everyday thinking. Every minute was consumed by the thought of him. And your brothers, whose whispers in the back of your mind grew louder and louder as time ticked by You were waiting for him to call you to him any minute. The anticipation ate away at you but you tried to ignore it and let it get stale.

Something was changing.

You had felt it coming: a ticking in the back of your mind. And you shouldn’t have been so thrown off by it: you had been watching and waiting patiently for it to arrive for years, but now it was finally here you couldn’t help the bubbling feeling in your stomach.

You sat twirling the ring around your finger: A simple gold band that fit snugly around your ring finger. It was far less ornate than the ones that the other horsemen shared, but you supposed that was the beauty of it. So war is so complex…yet simplified too much in the public eye. Being with you since the beginning, the ring was so much more than meets the eye. Holding the key to your power it was a symbol of who you are and so so much more. It was also the reason that you knew you would have to leave soon. Sooner or later you would be forced to reunite with your bothers under Lucifer’s binding to begin the apocalypse. Unless you could convince them to use the rings for good and to create the key to the cage to send lucifer back. Though you knew it would be much harder to get your brothers to give up their rings. They did not share the same values as you did.

“Y/N?” It was Damian who made his way toward you from the double doors. He had seen you leave a few hours ago and had watched you for hours as you sat trying to work through whatever was clearly bothering you. He had tried to figure it out himself: Damian had always been good at reading people, though you stumped him. He could never quite figure you out. He supposed that was one of the reasons you were so special. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” You nodded, still twirling the band around your finger. “I’ll come back in a moment. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Not at all.” Damian gestured to the bench and you slid over so he could squeeze in beside you. “What’s on your mind?”

There was no easy way to put it. You knew exactly what it was and you knew that you were going to have to tell them about it at one point or another. So why couldn’t you bring the words to your lips? Why were the words you had spent so long rehearsing refusing to speak? It’s not like your family didn’t know who you were. In fact, that was one of the reasons that Bruce adopted you into the family. For years and years you had known nothing but War, Famine, Pestilence and Death. And they were all so different from you. Without the same morals you were often left aside. Or sneered at when they thought you weren’t looking. You had nothing. And now Bruce and given you everything. Perhaps that was why you were so hesitant to tell him. As it meant that you would have to leave. Although you knew it was inevitable, you had hoped it wouldn’t have been this soon. The thought bothered you deeply, so with a heavy sigh you decided to just spit it out and get it over with.

“The apocalypse is beginning.”

Damian faltered, jaw nearly falling open like an old doll that had lost its jaw hinges. “So soon?”

“I am afraid so.” you chewed on the inside of your lip.

The boy fell into silence for a moment as he tried to process the information.

“They will be coming for me soon.” You told him “if I don’t go to them first.”

Hunters. Sam and Dean Winchester. They were infamous and you heard whispers that they were looking for the rings. So you knew that sooner or later they would be coming for you to use everything in their will to get their grips on your ring.

“You’re leaving. Aren’t you?” Damian asked at your silence. You couldn’t bear to meet the young boy’s gaze. Instead you opted to watch the petals fall from the flowers as the wind knocked them from their beds.

“Yes.”

“Do you have to?” Damian pleaded “why can’t you stay here in hiding? We can protect you!”

Damian’s gesture made your heart melt. You knew they would try to protect you. They had for years. But this was the apocalypse and as strong as they were, they stood little chance against the end of the world. You had told them before that this would come one day. That you would have to leave to complete something dangerous and they could not follow. So it hurt to hear Damian plead for your safety.

“Sometimes, Dami, we have duties to fulfil that we do not want to do. But we must for the greater good.”

“But what if you get hurt!? If you leave us and we can’t protect you then-

“Oh Dami.” You turned to face him, placing a gentle hand on his arm and trying to swallow down the guilt that ate away at you “I will be fine. Promise.”

Sleep did not come easily to you that night. In fact, it didn’t come to you at all. Instead you lay awake staring blankly at the ceiling as you tried to plan out how you would tell them you were going to leave. It would be difficult. For you and them. And the situation wouldn’t go down without a verbal fight between the six of you.

You had considered just getting up and leaving in the middle of the night. They would piece it together sooner or later if Damian hadn’t already told them, which he likely had, so it would save you the pain of having to tell them yourself. But you couldn’t do that to them. It was unfair. So instead you lay awake planning how you would break their hearts.

No matter how many times you tried to think it through, you just couldn’t get the words to sound right. They were always too formal or straight to the point. You could just picture their faces: Dick’s gaze refusing to meet yours, Tim’s eyes glazing over and Jason’s brow hardening. The thought of leaving there and then crossed your mind again.

But then, the decision was made for you.

Almost silently, the window to your bedroom began to slide open inching upward slowly. You moved watched it hesitantly for a second before noting the tall silhouettes that tried to keep their backs pinned to the wall of your balcony. Swiftly, you were up on your feet and moving to stand in front of the window, readying your fists in case of the the figures got too trigger happy and moved to attack you first.

When the first figure squeezed through the window, dressed in plaid, he seemed taken a back to see you standing there watching him struggle through the small space. With a flick of his head he gestured to the other man, who shared a similar likeness, and reached for his pistol holstered in his back pocket. With a flick of your hand you turned on the light.

“No need to draw a weapon on an an unarmed girl is there?”

“War?” The taller one squinted at you, leaning forward to study you.

You nodded calmly. The smaller man eyed you warily and you saw him hand inch towards his pocket where he more than likely had a weapon concealed.

“You’re… younger than I expected.” The tall one noted.

“I’m older than I look.” You told him. “How did you get in?” You asked. Security around the cave was high, but not impossible to bypass if you were exceptionally well trained like these two seemed to be, the real challenge was your family who had eyes on every window like a hawk and seemed to have a 6th sense for unwanted visitors.

“Snuck under the fence. There’s a gap between the hedges in the garden. If you stick close enough to the shadows and move at the right time the cameras have enough blind spots to get by mostly unnoticed. And besides that? We’re damn good at our job.” The older one said.

You hummed. Smart, you thought, making a mental note to tell Alfred about the fencing.

The taller one with the long hair opened his mouth to speak and you could tell from the way he shifted his feet uncomfortably that you were in for a very long winded explanation of why they needed you to come with them, so you decided to put yourself out of your own misery and to beat him to it.

“I know who you are, Sam Winchester.” You watched his face drop. “I know why you’re here.”

“Then you’ll know we need that ring.” Dean barked.

“I know. And if you’re as experienced as people say you are then you’ll know that I can’t just give it to you.”

“Well it’s either that or we take it from you, sweetheart.” Dean clenched his jaw. His voice had little to no remorse despite the fact that he knew it would end in your untimely demise. Or close to it. But he was growing desperate: the fate of the whole world quite literally depended on his actions. The fate of his brother. And Dean Winchester was not one to give in to fate.

You inched away from them, subconsciously twirling the ring around your finger savouring the coolness of it against your skin. “You know that’s not possible.”

“Listen here sweetheart. We need that ring to send Lucifer back to that god forsaken hell hole he crawled out of and-“

“I know. But I cannot give you the ring.” You told him. “I have a life here. A family. I will not give myself up just like that. And besides…” you rolled up your sleeves to reveal the shimmering binding on your arms. “He will know the second I do. I am bound to him and to fulfil in duties in the bringing of the apocalypse.”

Sam and Dean’s faces fell.

“However I am willing to help you as much as I can.”

“How so?”

“I will help you get the other rings. I will help you save Sam Winchester and I will give everything to hand you my ring to send Lucifer back to the cage on one condition.”

“Go on.” Sam nodded.

“You help find a way to make me human.”

“What?” Dean was sure he had misheard you.

“If I give up that ring. I lose everything. I will become a shell of a person. So lifeless that there is hardly any point in living. That is if I don’t die the second the my brothers, or lucifer lay eyes on me. If I become human… I can live out my life here with my family. As a Wayne.”

The two shared a look. It said a thousand more things that words could have.

“Son of a Bitch…” Dean murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

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bogunicorn · 10 months

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thoughts on what fandoms the da:i characters would be in

I will do this for you but ONLY if I amend it to "fandoms they would be annoying about" because it's funnier and otherwise I'm just assigning them shows they would be into and that's too subjective and less fun

One of them has to be a Homestuck and it's Sera, Sera is the Homestuck. Sera has a Trollsona that she doodles on everything, she would 100% absolutely try to dye herself gray using sharpies and vodka for a cosplay. She references it all the time and is annoying when you don't understand her jokes. She still tries to get people into it, but she considers Andrew Hussy a mortal enemy these days for Reasons.

Solas is a Song of Ice and Fire bitch. Not the show. The books. "But wait, Boggers!" you might say (if you know me well enough to call me "Boggers"), "What about LOTR? Why isn't Solas into LOTR?" And to that I say, he's definitely read it and is a nerd about it, but this is about fandom, and fandom to someone like a Reddit-addicted bitch like Solas is about theory crafting, debates, and politics, and ASoIaF being complex but unfinished really lends itself to the kind of deep internet toxicity that I think Solas would crave. Also he likes wolves.

Cole is a Supernatural Superfan. He has all the cheesy "join the hunt" merch because for a while it was his chief special interest and all he wanted was SPN stuff. He's kind of obsessed with Baby, specifically. His favorite episode was Baby and he has an AO3 account full of fic written from the car's perspective. He didn't cry in the finale until he saw the Impala under the canvas and he's been lowkey upset at Sam for doing that ever since.

Dorian is an old school Baldur's Gate fan. Like, BG1 and 2. He's played other RPGs of that era, those are just his favorites. What makes him an annoying fan is that he thinks complicated = good and looooooves to complain about how "simple" and "boring" current-era RPGs are. If you can't softblock yourself from all progress by making one mistake two hours into your playthrough, it's too easy. He's active in fandom spaces and is largely helpful, like he writes tips and guides and will answer newbie questions, but the price for his help is dealing with him being smug.

Leliana is a FromSoft fangirl and a Soulslike aficionado. Nightingale says git gud. She'll happily team up with you in co-op to get you through stuff if you ask, but she also explains mechanics and such like you should have known them already and thinks you're just not trying hard enough to listen, even though her advice is almost incomprehensible.

Cullen is an MCU fanboy. He fully believes they're the peak of cinema. He compares literally everything to an MCU movie, as he has seen all of them, multiple times, and thinks you're "thinking about it too much" if you criticize them in more than the most banal of ways. Usually it's fine, like, being excited for stuff is fine and enjoying mainstream things are fine, but you can only have so many "Thanos was a great villain" conversations with this dude before you go insane. Despite seeming incapable of critiquing the MCU, his criticisms of the DCEU are spot-on, sharp, and demonstrative of actually very impressive media analysis skills, but also coming from a starting point of "DC Bad, Marvel Good", so it's like, we could've had it aaaaaaaaall.

Cassandra is in the Bridgerton fandom. She read the original books and liked them, so she was one of the first people watching the show. Most of her fandom stuff happens on Facebook with other book fans. Watching the show with her is fun until the exact second she says "well, in the BOOKS" and then rattles off a list of the most inconsequential changes, distracting you from a pivotal moment in the show and forcing you to rewind. She is very pressed about the seasons going out of order from the books.

Varric is a Critical Role evangelist. He was there when it started, he's listened to everything. He's listened to other real play podcasts and shows, but CR is his favorite. That's not annoying in and of itself, what's annoying is that he will not stop trying to get you to watch it. If you even breathe in the direction of a DnD-related topic he tries to give you "advice on where to start" with CR. His friends put up with it because he's their Forever DM and they love him, but he sure does do a lot more obnoxious sound effects now than he used to and they're planning an intervention about it.

Josephine is a Disney Adult. She seems normal and then bam, you get blindsided by something insane, like that she owns every single Disney character Funko Pop, or that she's gone to DisneyWorld for vacation every year for the last decade, or you go over to her house for dinner and find Hidden Mickeys in her bathroom, or she's really intense about pin collecting and limited edition mouse ear headbands. You wonder when she has the time and energy to collect all this. And there's more of it every time you see her. But the thing is that she's pretty quiet about it as long as you don't poke the bear. You know that she's seen every one of the new remakes in theaters, but you don't dare ask her opinion about them. Her favorite princess is Cinderella and she tells you "the original dress was silver" with exactly the same amount of excited did-you-know energy every time.

I hate to break this to you all, but Iron Bull is a Zack Snyder and Christopher Nolan fanboy. Yep. Yes he is. His toxic trait is that he shuts his brain off and just enjoys the gritty action sequences. He liked Batman v Superman. He bought the Snyder Cut. He thinks Nolan's Batman is the absolute best that franchise has ever been and ever could be. I'm sorry, it's heartbreaking but it's true. I know, I'm sad, too, we can hold each other.

Vivienne has been in the Anne Rice fandom under the same pseudonym for ever. She was one of the original fans and was much more active in fandom when she was much younger, but she made her fannish activities more and more private as she became more established in her career. You would honestly never know it meeting her IRL; at most, people come over for dinner parties and might notice that she owns every single Anne Rice book, but they're part of her overall book collection and don't really stand out. Secretly, though, she's been keeping up with the Anne Rice fandom under a pseudonym this whole time and goes to the more modern in-person events using her fake name. She might kill you if you ever connected her fandom activities to her real life in any way. She's also just, like, she's really bad at letting people be wrong about these books. Really, really, really bad. There are epic-length threads on old forums that are just her and one other similarly deranged person fighting about obscure Vampire Chronicles lore.

And finally, Blackwall is a Game of Thrones girlie. The show, not the books. He's one of those "I don't like fantasy but I like Game of Thrones" guys, and he thinks GoT is mold-breaking and special and better and grittier and more realistic than other fantasy and that's why he likes it. His most irritating fan trait is that he thought season 8 was good and that the ending was good and he likes to get into heated debates with other fans about it. However, he does not know what Reddit is, he only talks with other GoT-watchers in Facebook, which is why he and Solas haven't had the fight to end all friendships yet. Yet.

BONUS! Krem is into Star Wars and Scout Harding is a die-hard Trekkie, and they go to big cons and cosplay together. They're not annoying at all, I just wanted to mention it because I feel like that's in-character for them.

**also if you like this and think "i'm gonna give this fine person a follow because they're so funny about dragon age", i made a new DA sideblog at @skyholdstarbucks where i'd post anything similar to this in the future

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