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rowdy-revenant · 6 years

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The Beauty of a Beast - part 5

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Becky Rosen (briefly), Y/N Singer, Gabriel, Castiel, Balthazar, Chuck, Jack, Charlie, Crowley - future pairing of Gabriel x reader

Words: 1500+

Beta-reader: @nobodys-baby-now

Warnings: Bi!Dean (if you consider that a warning), arguing

Chapter summary: Sam tries to cheer up his rejected brother. Planning dinner doesn’t work out very well at the castle.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

[General masterlist] [Gabriel masterlist]

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Part 5 - Taverns and Tea

Business at the Roadhouse tavern was like it always was; busy. Dean Winchester sat in his usual fur covered chair, facing the fireplace. His brother brought another round of drinks for the both of them and set them on a table before Dean.

Dean downed another pint. “What’s the point.” He muttered. “I keep pursuing Y/N and every time they shoot me down.”

“So maybe stop pursuing them?” Sam offered.

The older Winchester glared at his brother.

“Look, Dean, it’s not the end of the world. You can get any girl- or guy, for that matter- in town you want!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want anyone else!” Dean huffed. The hunter was too stubborn to let the one that got away go.

“Dean, please. Come on, Benny Lafitte’s single, right?” Sam said.

“I’m not dating someone taller than me.” Dean grumbled.

“What about Jo Harvelle?” Sam offered.

“Talks too much.” Dean scoffed.

“Gadreel? The librarian?”

“He’s a nerd.”

“Becky Rosen?”

“More like clingy.”

“Garth Fitzgerald’s a nice guy.”

“He’s always too happy.”

“Rowena?”

“You’re joking. Why can’t Y/N just like me?” Dean whined.

Sam sighed. “Don’t put yourself down like this, Dean.”

“If I’m not good enough for them, I’m not good enough at all.” Dean concluded, turning his green eyes to the ground and pouting like a child.

Sam sat next to Dean. He looked up at the mantle and the wall behind it. Countless animal heads decorated the tavern but this section? This was all the Winchesters’. Scratch that, it was all Dean’s. All Sam did during hunts was chase the prey for Dean to wear it out before his brother got the final shot, and all the credit. Sam always felt proud of his brother, though there was always a hint of jealousy.

“Everyone here wishes they were you. Your skills, your good looks…” Sam would add ‘your brains’ but his brother wasn’t exactly the sharpest arrow in the quiver. “Your reputation…” He added. “Everybody in town either wants to be with you or to be you.”

Dean just grunted as a reply.

“Tell me again how you got that one.” Sam said, pointing to the stuffed head of a bear.

A faint smile crept across Dean’s face. “Took me three whole days. I sprained my ankle in the process, but still managed to catch it.”

A couple people grouped around Dean as he told the tale.

“It got caught in a trap I had laid out by the river, so I caught up to it and BANG!” Dean shouted. “Killed it in one shot.”

Becky, a blonde who was arguably Dean’s biggest fan clapped as he finished the story. Dean gestured for her to come closer, so she did, sitting on the arm of the armchair, leaning towards her crush.

“Oh Dean,” Becky sighed. “You’re sooo manly.”

The elder brother grinned and flexed. “I work out, you know. I bet I could lift Sam.”

“Really?” She gasped.

Sam grimaced. “Please don’t. We’ll take your word for it.”

Dean laughed. “Scared I’m right, Sammy?”

Dean went on telling hunting stories about his prowess. He was skilled, that was true, but his ego and stubbornness often got him in trouble, so Sam was the one who had to pull him out of it. Of course, the favour was never returned.

Sam was always there for his brother. He supported him and helped him with hunts or picking up flings. The thing was, he didn’t have the courage to get in Dean’s way when things got out of hand.

If Sam had Dean’s courage, or Dean had Sam’s intellect, things would probably turn out different for the brothers.

A loud knock at your door woke you. You sat up and yawned, surprised for a second by the unfamiliar surroundings. You weren’t home, you remembered.

Your room in this castle had to be the size of your house in the village. The four poster bed was soft and big. The walls were painted elegantly, rather than plain brick. Everything was so much bigger, so much more expensive. Not to mention the wardrobe was alive too.

There was another knock. “Dinner. Now. Join me.” The Beast growled from outside.

“Ask nicely.” Castiel chided.

“And smile!” Balthazar added.

The Beast bared his fangs in what vaguely resembled a smile.

Balthazar winced. “We’ll work on that.”

“Now ask again,” Chuck said. “Nicely.”

The Beast huffed and faced the door again. “Would you join me for dinner?” He asked in a softer, but still demanding voice.

You wanted to scream. “Join you? You treat me like garbage and you want me to eat dinner with you?!” You yelled.

The feathers of the Beast wings bristled, and his chest rose and fell heavily as his breathing quickened.

The servants picked up quickly on his anger. Castiel was the first to try and calm him down. “Easy now-”

The Beast raised his fist and slammed it against the door. “YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER AND THAT’S NOT A REQUEST!” He roared.

“NO!” You yelled back, twisting the lock on the door handle and dragging a chair in front of it. You didn’t want to see his ugly face again if you could help it.

“Fine!” The Beast sneered. “GO AHEAD AND STARVE! If you don’t eat with me, you don’t eat at all!”

“Fine!” You replied.

The Beast turned and stormed off down the hall, slashing a wall in anger as he went.

Balthazar looked at his friends. “Staff meeting.”

Balthazar stood on the round table, tapping his arm against a glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Hello, everyone.” Balthazar started. “Well, everyone who could be here.”

“I can tell dad!” A teacup piped up.

“Hush, Jack. Later.” Castiel replied.

“So, we have a guest. Someone from the village named Y/N.” Balthazar continued. “As you know, we don’t have a lot of time left. If things work out, Y/N could be the one. We’ll all return to normal.”

“That’s a great plan and all, but what if it doesn’t work?” Charlie, a former maid turned cardinal-shaped feather-duster asked.

“We have to try.” Chuck said.

The group murmured in agreement.

“So, the master has forbidden Y/N to eat dinner with him after his temper tantrum. Of course, we can’t have that.” Balthazar retold. “Gabriel will be asleep in his quarters soon enough. We’ll make a second dinner.”

“Castiel, Jack, bring some tea upstairs for our guest. Tell Y/N and Crowley of the plan. Charlie, tell Lucifer to wait in the dining room. The rest of us will cook and set up.” Chuck gave the orders.

Cas nodded as best as a teapot could nod. “Come along, Jack.”

Jack skipped across the table to join his uncle. “Charlie, tell dad I say hi!”

Charlie smiled. “Will do, kiddo.”

“So, can I ask why you’re a wardrobe?” You inquired.

Crowley hummed, thinking. “Suppose the one who cursed us had a sense of humour. I was a tailor.”

“Huh. Interesting.” You replied.

“And you?” Crowley asked. “What do you do?”

“I help- or helped my father with his work.” You explained. “He makes things like clocks and music boxes.”

A tap at the door ended your quiet conversation.

Your voice wavered as you spoke. “Go away.”

“It’s Castiel.” Was the muffled reply.

“The master doesn’t knock that softly.” Crowley chuckled. “Let him in.”

You moved the chair away from your door and unlocked it. When you opened the door, a trolley with a tea set was before you.

“You must be Castiel.” You said, wheeling the cart in.

“I am.” The teapot replied. “This,” He gestured to the teacup beside him “Is Jack.”

“Nice to meet you!” The little cup replied, its painted face grinning. He sounded young. You felt pity for this poor kid. He was probably the only one of his age in this palace.

You smiled. “Nice to meet you too.”

“We’re making you something to eat.” Castiel said.

You frowned. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat.”

“What the great big lummock doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Crowley huffed. “You need to eat, love.”

“You’re not afraid of him?”

The room fell silent.

“No,” Castiel finally spoke. “He has outbursts but he’ll never hurt anyone.”

“I think the person who fears him most is himself.” Crowley mused. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” You replied. “He doesn’t scare me. He’s big and he’s cruel, but there’s… something about him. Like an animal lashing out in pain…”

You fell quiet. Could this beast have any emotion apart from anger? Why would these cursed people stand up for him? How did this happen?

~ Murdoch’s tag list - want to be added or removed? Send me an ask! ~

All fics: @a-r-c-h-a-n-g-e-l @ashiewesker @ashtheironbat @authoressskr @baritonechick @blessedbebucky @crowleysprincess159 @cynda-kiwi @d4rzill4 @fayepummeluff @feelmyroarrrr @gabriels-depressed-angel @hunters-hiraeth @impatient-witch @kristaparadowski @lenawiinchester @like-gabriel-and-castiel @madelineannmolder @negansgrimes @oldpaperfan @sdavid09 @shrimpdrake @sumara62 @tangle-of-ivy @team-barry @thehowling1234 @thewhiterabbit42 @treitike @tenderlybeautifulbarbarian @tyrex15 @unsink-the-titanic

All Supernatural: @gabriels-trix

Gabriel: @elven-leaf @hiddles-and-skittles @hp-hogwartsexpress @im-gabriels-bitch @jannalionheart @elenawrit @trollhunter94

The Beauty of a Beast: @a-michellerae-things @a-vast-african-plain @clockworkmorningglory @red-bandana-girl@icharleecongrevemultifandomsblog @person-born-winchester@sumara62

#gabriel x reader #the beauty of a beast #beast!gabriel #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #becky rosen #gabriel #castiel #balthazar #chuck shurley #jack kline #charlie bradbury #crowley

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: From the KKK to Darfur, Reflecting on Evil as a Deliberate Act

Evil: A Matter of Intent at Jewish Museum of Florida-FIU, installation view (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)

MIAMI — A new exhibition at the Jewish Museum of Florida-FIU, Evil: A Matter of Intent, examines the exigencies of cruelty — what it takes to create it and the methodology that allows it to exist. Evil is not, the artists here purport, something intrinsic to humanity, not by birth, anyway. Acts of evil are deliberate. Evil is a choice.

Before traveling here, this exhibition was previously at the Hebrew Union College Jewish Institute of Religion. There, it didn’t include the blood-red KKK King Kleagle robe, a kind of pièce de résistance for the Miami show. King Kleagles oversee a given geographic area of the Klan and are responsible for recruiting new Klansmen, and this particular robe, from the 1940s, comes at an unnerving time, on the heels of the white supremacist demonstrations in Charlottesville.

Evil: A Matter of Intent at Jewish Museum of Florida-FIU, installation view

When I was very young, the KKK were my biggest fear, both because of who they targeted and the mythological quality of their symbolism — it seemed childishly bold to set representations of Jesus aflame, as if Jesus would approve. It was as if they’d do anything to justify their hatred and, as Evil reveals, my childhood assumptions were correct. A weapon accompanies the robe: a literal stick of wood carved into sharp points, its user part resourceful Boy Scout and part warmonger. Evil is easy to carry out, so long as the perpetrator is determined. Even a stick will do.

The rest of the exhibition is huge, with more than 70 works (painting, sculptural pieces, photographs, ephemera) from 1940 to the present, with each addressing evil in its various incarnations: racism, abuse, slavery, rape, murder, acts of terrorism, systemic violence, and the destruction of cultural heritage. There’s a poster for the American Committee for Relief in the Near East, circa 1918, regarding the Armenian genocide in Turkey. The poster reads “LEST WE PERISH” and an accompanying plaque notes that it’s still illegal to discuss the World War I-era massacre of Armenians.

Children’s drawings collected from refugee camps in Chad (by organization Waging Peace) depict the genocide of non-Arab, black Africans in Darfur. Homes rendered in crayon burst into flames; soldiers shaded with colored pencil shoot at the bodies of running passerby. The child artists are named and quoted; a girl named Aisha says, “It is very kind to send us food, but this is Africa and we are used to being hungry. What I ask is that you please take the guns away from the people who are killing us.”

Evil: A Matter of Intent at Jewish Museum of Florida-FIU, installation view

Sometimes evil is less obvious than the murder of children; it can be systemic and hidden, and Hedy Pagremanski’s pencil drawings of homeless New Yorkers portray them as victims of a system that allows the mentally ill, those who’ve lost their homes to unaffordable housing, and war veterans to end up on the street. Other sorts of evil are more insidious and subtle. Trix Rosen’s “SIN STREET,” a sendup of a pulp fiction film poster, reads “THE BEAUTIFUL BRUNETTE HAS A FACE AND FIGURE THAT COULD LEAD A MAN … TO MURDER,” implying that women’s sexuality is itself guileful.

Women are common victims in Evil. Steps away from the KKK robe is a cluster of delicate silk belts by Andi Arnovitz, each stamped with quotes by women who’ve suffered domestic abuse. Titled “Beaten out of Them,” they come in an array of colors. The red belts feature quotes by women who are no longer alive. One reads, “surviving the violence was easy, he didn’t want to kill me,” which is unsurprising enough to still be nausea-inducing.

Andi Arnovitz “Beaten out of Them” (2013) (detail), silk, buckles, grommets

Global or universal examples of evil are useful, but an American exhibit ought to be self-reflective. Luckily, it is. Leonard Meiselman’s oil painting, “Hiroshima, a Child’s Shirt,” is a reminder of our own government’s role in these sorts of atrocities. Faith Ringgold’s seemingly cheerful lithograph, “Here Comes Moses,” is bright and primary-colored, featuring a young slave making his way toward “freedom” (a house on his path is literally emblazoned with the word). Text surrounds the print: “Aunt Emmy said he’d find us one day … He lost his mother and father on the way. ‘They’ll never find me in this storm but we will all find freedom. God willing. We were born to be free. I will never give up,’ said Moses.”

Evil: A Matter of Intent at Jewish Museum of Florida-FIU, installation view

The age-old question of evil is brought to task, too: How are we implicated? It would feel unproductive (though admittedly cathartic) to display cruelty as cruelty, a thing that simply exists. Jacqueline Nicholls’ “Who Is Righteous?,” part of a series in which she draws one page of the Talmud each day, draws upon page 55 . Here, it is said that the righteous will be branded with a tav (the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet) in ink, and the wicked with the same letter in blood. But who is truly righteous, asks God’s attribute of justice, if they cannot prevent wickedness in the first place? Who is without sin? Ben Shahn’s lithograph, “Thou Shalt Not Stand Idly By,” illustrates the Biblical quote Elie Weisel often called upon — Leviticus’s “Though shalt not stand idly by while your neighbor’s blood is shed.” The blind eye turned to evil, this kind of denial, is mentioned throughout the exhibition as evil’s potential equal.

There is a great deal of honesty in Evil, particularly in its assertion that atrocity is rooted in both a fear of the other and a need for power. That said, I do wish that, given the exhibition’s placement in the Jewish Museum, there had been work contending with the state of affairs in Israel and Palestine.

The museum is housed in two former synagogues that once served as the first Jewish congregations on Miami Beach; the Kleagle robe is surrounded by sacred Hebrew symbology, trapped by that which would spur its wearer’s hatred. There’s poetry in placing a symbol of white supremacy and hatred exactly where it ought to be: in a museum, vulnerable and exposed.

Evil: A Matter of Intent continues at the Jewish Museum of Florida-FIU (301 Washington Ave, Miami Beach) through October 1.

The post From the KKK to Darfur, Reflecting on Evil as a Deliberate Act appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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