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maxineswritingcenter · 5 years

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Take it on the Run -Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: After a month long, whirl-wind romance with the new guy in town (Dean), he ghosts, as if he never existed. You are devastated, eating plenty of ice cream, your friend decide to take you out for drinks and karaoke. Maybe something happens who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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"(Y/N)!" The sudden pounding on my door brought me back to reality. I was sitting on my couch in the same pajamas I had been wearing for the last two days, eating a tub of what was now melted ice cream. This had been my routine for the last two weeks.

"C'mon, (Y/N), open up!" The voice called. A frustrated sigh leaves my throat as I put the ice cream soup on the coffee table and turned off whatever show had decided to come on.

"I'm coming, chill out." I finally opened the door and was met by a sour face.

"Damn, you look like crap." (Y/F/N)'s nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Thanks." I smirked and left the door open for them to enter. I fell back on the couch and rested my arm over my eyes, "Why couldn't you just leave me to die?"

"Because I would be the prime suspect." They said and pulled my arm off my face, "Now get up, get clean for the love of God, and get dressed. We're going out." They moved around my apartment cleaning while their words registered.

"Wait, what?" I asked, sitting up.

"You heard me. You can't cry about this guy forever. You were together for a month, I don't even remember what his name was." They said, taking the melted ice cream off the table.

"His name is Dean." I smiled sadly. Thinking about the first night I met him.

(Y/F/N) dragged me out of my apartment again. I was content with staying home and getting some work done. There were people going missing all over town but they insisted I need to have fun and relax. I was sitting at the bar, sipping a jack and coke when I felt soft leather brush up against my arm.

"Two beers." He tapped his hand on the counter, there was a silver ring on his finger, but not his ring finger. His knuckles had the remains of fighting, fading scars. And I usually don't like to admit that I have a thing for bad boys, but I do. Finally I decided to see who was sitting so close. And dear God, I'm glad I did. He was... Perfect. A strong jawline, full lips, cute nose, a speckle of freckles across his cheeks, all leading up to these bright green eyes that met mine. And all of time seemed to stop. He faced me, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He nodded before he spoke with a voice that I could only compare to the warmness of a campfire on a cold autumn night.

"Hey." He said it with the confidence of someone who had done this before and it has worked before. And it was certainly working now.

"Hi." I forced my voice to be louder than the mousey squeak that wanted to come out. His eyes looked over me and I was so happy I decided to wear this top that finally fit after months of it sitting in the back of my closet.

"Led Zeppelin, huh?" He said, motioning to the falling angel tattoo on my upper arm. I nodded, smiling so wide my cheeks started to get sore.

A sparkle was in his eye as he grinned and held out his hand to me, "Name's Dean." I took his hand, giving it a firm shake, "(Y/N)."

"Well, (Y/N), got any other tattoos of bands I love?"

"Hey!" (Y/F/N)'s fingers snapped in my face, "No reminiscing about assholes." They grabbed my arms and pulled me too my feet an I groaned loudly. They led me into the bathroom and started the shower.

"Get in, I'm putting an outfit together for you. I'll do your hair, anything. Just pleeaassee," they stressed the word obnoxiously, "get in the goddamn shower. You smell like Fuzzybritches after she got sprayed by a skunk."

"I guess you're just going to compare me to your old ass cat." The door closed behind me and I heard them shout, "She is not old! She is an antique and she loves you!" I rolled my eyes. There was no getting out of it now, last thing I need is to run up my water bill.

"And voilà!" (Y/F/N) stepped out from in front of the mirror. I looked at myself, smiling weakly. I looked and felt nice for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Thank you." I said.

"You can thank me later when you have some fun tonight." They pulled me up from my chair, "Let's go!" I locked the door before (Y/F/N) dragged me to their car.

We pulled into the parking lot and I thought my heart was going to leap out of my throat.

"We're here- what? What is it?" They looked in my eyeline and saw what I was staring at.

A shiny black 1967 Chevy Impala.

"That's Baby." I whispered.

The wind was running through my hair and the music is blasting through the speakers of this absolutely beautiful classic car. Dean and I were on the road, driving to nowhere, just for fun. We drove for hours until it got dark. I was just dozing off when I heard the most beautiful voice.

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight...You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night...And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..." He looked over and saw my eyes open, a small smile on my lips.

"What are smiling at?" He asked, reaching over and putting his hand on my upper thigh. This other hand gripped the wheel.

"I think I love you." I said, looking into his eyes. I saw pain in his eyes but it was replaced by his usual look.

"You sure about that?" He asked, a small waver in his voice. I nodded, my whole face felt warm. He opened his mouth to reply but I fell asleep.

My friend turned off the car and unbuckled both our seat belts.

"Alright, one: the fact that he named his car just speaks volumes about his personality. And two: it's Back to the Bricks this weekend, there are classic cars all over town right now. So get your ass in gear and let's have fun! Fun day!" They clapped their hands.

I opened up my door and followed them towards the door. I stopped by the Chevy though. It was too dark out for me to see inside, I wouldn't have been able to tell anyway.

I drove down main Street to the motel that was just off the highway. I felt safer now, not only had the missing people come back safe and sound but I had Dean. Dean made me feel so safe. He was strong and sure of himself. His arms felt so safe. His kisses were heaven. And the sex...well, the sex was amazing. I pulled up to the motel, but didn't see Baby in the parking lot. Maybe his brother was inside the motel room. His brother Sam was this tall drink of water that had grown to become one of my very good friends. I knocked on the door of the motel room that I knew all too well. No answer. I tried again. Nothing. But maybe they were out together.

"Excuse me, miss, I have to clean out this room now." I turned around and found a staff women with a cart of cleaning products and towels.

"Clean it out... I'm sorry, I think you're at the wrong room. My boyfriend and his brother are staying here." I said, not understand what was going on.

"The guys with the classic car? Sweetie, they left last night. Seemed like they were in a hurry too." She gave me a sympathetic look before opening the door and going inside. I got a glimpse of what looked like an empty room. My hands started shaking as I pulled my phone out of my pocket, pressing his name and holding the phone to my ear. And even before I heard the ring, I heard the dial tone to a disconnected number. I sat on the curb, hugging my knees to my chest. I sat there well after the cleaning woman left. And well after it got dark. Hoping that everything was wrong.

"(Y/N/N)?" My friend pulled me out of the disassociated state and smiled, "You're cued up next. I picked out a song that will give you all the vindication you need for Dan."

"Dean."

"And he's an dick. Now get up there." I sighed, hyping myself up.

"Okay." I grabbed their drink from their hand, slamming it back, before chugging the rest of mine, "Okay!" I repeated loudly. (Y/F/N) laughed loudly, "That's my friend! Get up there!"

And with liquid courage I went on stage, my heart pounding as I heard the few opening chords of one of my favorite REO Speedwagon songs. The song was loud and the bass gave this wild and crazy feeling and I felt so much better, booze or not.

"You take it on the run baby

If that's the way you want it baby

Then I don't want you around

I don't believe it, not for a minute

You're under the gun so you take it on the run!" I held my arm up at the high note, I could heard my friend screaming and cheering me on. The song ended soon after, my friend meeting me at the bottom of the stairs of the stage. They hugged me tightly, squealing in excitement.

"Don't you feel so much better?!"

"I do!" I grinned, "I gotta get some air." I pulled away. They gave me a pat on the shoulder and made their way up the steps.

I pushed my way through the crowd, feeling the praise as I made my way out the door. The cool air felt so nice against my skin. I rest my back against the cool bricks of the building and closed my eyes, basking in the glory of everything.

"That was a great performance." I heard a voice say, they weren't too close.

"Thanks." I said, still breathing hard.

"I uh..." I felt the familiar soft leather brush against my arm, "I can't help but feel like that song was about me."

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Read part 2 here!

#dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #spn #dean winchester x reader

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eisforeidolon · 5 years

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Episode: Raising Hell

So, uh, basically I have no idea why anything in this episode happens or what its point is supposed to be. Having looked up who wrote it somewhere in the middle, I am completely lacking in surprise.

I mean, the first bit pretty much sets the tone. Chatty Corpsy spouts exposition a mile a minute, then gets killed, and the ghost stands over her and spells disembowel. Is that actually supposed to be scary? Funny? Anything but an absolutely bizarre waste of my time?

A bunch of dudes with basically nothing but FBI jackets and a bullshit story to back themselves up with convince an entire town to camp out in the local high school for two days without anybody figuring out they're full of shit. You know, what with smartphones existing and all. Plausible!

Furthermore, I have become convinced that everyone in this writer's room genuinely believes there is nothing scarier than a bunch of random antagonists standing around in a room pontificating at each other. It's all demons do anymore. It's all angels do anymore. Oh, fucking look, here's a bunch of goddamn ghosts doing it, too! A fucking thrill a minute, I tell you.

Also, you know how the episode with H.H. Holmes was actually scary? Whether or not you think it's in questionable taste for them to use real life serial killers at all, the reason they included him was because the whole murder castle deal and semi-mythical legends about him made for a scary premise they actually used in the episode. I ignored the thing with it being Gacy before in Lebanon because there was more important stuff going on, but contrast the current writers' choices with him and this Jack the Ripper guy with the use of Holmes. Here they're just throwing out the names of real life murderers to try and make their villains scary in the cheapest, fastest way possible. Just like bringing back “Bloody Mary” that just kills whoever, this loudmouthed windbag has nothing to do with the name they're stealing to try and make him scary.

Also, the spell demon guy did is keeping the ghosts in, right? Sure, it's going to fail, but at the moment, it's supposed to be an impassible barrier, yes? So why, exactly, is it necessary for Sam to call in his goon squad to join the four of them in wandering into the danger zone to shoot at 'em? Seriously, why? Shooting them dissipates them for a few seconds, maybe minutes. They’re not laying out additional salt or iron lines or doing anything that might genuinely help contain the ghosts, they’re just putting themselves in danger because ...? The mooks could also be better spent guarding the major entrance points to the town and/or the townies and/or doing research back at the bunker into what they're going to try next after the barrier fails. But those things would actually make sense and prevent the shambling zombie that is the writers’ pathetic attempt at a plot in this episode being pushed into something vaguely resembling action.

I am shocked, SHOCKED I tell you, that Rowena is now suddenly unable to do something with her powers that she did before. Hey, remember when she stole that page out of the damned book to make herself more powerful to unseal her full powers (even though they touted her as the most powerful witch ever to begin with) and that was in season 13, well after the ghost-crystal-bomb thing? But LOL, now she's even weaker? This is exactly why nothing matters anymore. Things that worked previously (angel powers, witch powers, the Colt, whatever) suddenly and randomly don't work to do the exact same jobs for … reasons. The thing that makes it even dumber is they could have said that the ghost containing spell and crystal ghost sucking spell interfered with each other somehow. Still at a bullshit level of convenience, but it doesn't involve making everyone and everything's powers completely arbitrary just because fuck continuity, that’s why!

Then Ketch shows up to save the Winchesters from their sudden attack of brain damage. The show has provided an entire. fucking. town. full of angry ghosts straight from hell. But actually bother to write a scene of Sam and Dean legit getting over their heads in a believable way? Why fucking bother when you can just make them astoundingly incompetent. It is literally unbelievable that Sam and Dean would not recognize those people as possessed fucking immediately. Yet they stand there with rock salt filled shotguns doing sweet fuckall confronted by three fucking ghosts so Ketch can make a big entrance. Is there a rule on a board somewhere in the writer's room that Sam and Dean have to be made to look incompetent at least once an episode? Is this some kind of revenge for having to still write the main characters they're so clearly bored with? Are these idiots just so fucking stupid they don't realize how insulting this is? Did they run out of money for extras and the stunt coordinator?

Also, someone explain to me how tiny flakes of metal are going to be less harmful to a human body than rock salt. I'll wait. They just really really wanted Ketch as one of the BMoL guys to have some kind of specialized gadget but couldn’t give him something actually potentially useful for the situation at hand.

Again, these writers really want to be writing a bad soap opera with occasional supernatural elements. So despite that it's the final fucking season, we have time for Rowena and Ketch flirting. Not to mention that they also give the only major female character even more relationship drama with the Jack the Ripper guy later. If it's not questionably skeevy, it's not Bucklemming!

Also, Castiel is not good at inspirational speeches, just like he’s frustratingly almost never good at anything else these days (those healing powers that were working last week? ha! forget it!). Anyway, why do they keep having him make them? Are we as the audience supposed to find them convincing though they never work on the target? Are we supposed to feel bad for all the ~*feelings*~ Castiel supposedly has despite being an angel who isn’t supposed to have emotions the same way humans do? I guess this particular one is to further show that Dean’s still mad (which I am absolutely 100% behind) but eh, whatever. Though I guess that still ranks it above most of the episode sitting at a solid WTF, no really, WTF?!

Now we get to the part where they bring Kevin back for no fucking reason beyond that he's a “fan favorite”. None of it makes a single tiny speck of sense. Let's skip right past the fundamental absurdity of how Chuck apparently did this for literally no reason just to be a dick when he was actively trying to pretend not to be a dick. Kevin has a “bad boy” reputation (come the fuck on) because God Himself cast him down - so him being in hell would have to be fairly common knowledge, for it to result in him having a reputation. Except literally no demon Sam & Dean ran into between 11.21 and now taunted them with it? Crowley, who was still alive and fucking King of Hell through season 12 never noticed and either told the Winchesters or tried to trade on it? BULL and SHIT. This is pretty close to the same scale of insult to continuity and the audience’s intelligence as these two fuckwits suddenly writing Lucifer as the older brother.

Then in typical fashion, Sam & Dean discuss their plans to totes send Kevin to heaven in front of demon guy just so they can be told OH NOES! He totally can't go to heaven! So sad! The poor widdle woobie! Fuck off with this shit, show. Not even to mention that they take the word of a demon as gospel truth when there is no time crunch or clear lack of better options. It's all those many many hits to the head, I guess. That I do actually find quite sad. I mean, I don't actually want Kevin hanging around like a bad smell while they divert from actually important shit to try and get him to heaven where it makes no sense for him not to already be. But at the end they don't even arrange some way to keep in touch just in case the fucking demon might be (gasp) lying?

Hey, I did actually like the exchange between Dean and Sam over Chuck poking his corresponding wound. Oh, look, it's Sam's “I'm totally lying” face, followed by Dean's “I totally know you're lying but I'll let it go for now, Sam” face. It was a great moment that required very little dialogue to work quite well. It's such a shame nobody's making a show about these two characters! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The absurdity keeps on coming, too. In the whole two days they've been wasting time in Sunshine Daylightville they never discussed how long the spell would last? Oh, right, they were too busy wandering into the ghost zone to shoot at 'em for shits and giggles to care about that, I guess. Not to mention the whole “just cast it again!” is remarkably blasé about it requiring a 'fresher the better!' human heart.

More ghosts blathering at each other. Yay. This supposed Jack the Ripper guy is just always in the right place at the right time to hear all the gossip, knows every random thing he could possibly need to, and already has the power to intimidate and attack other ghosts. He's basically ghost!Asmodeus, who also steals AU!Michael's original idea of how to get through the barrier, because we really needed time spent discussing the world's most obvious plan. Also, we've seen ghosts able to attack and absorb the power of other ghosts, but it was because they had already been doing it for a while. This guy is just as fresh out of hell as everybody else, but he's more powerful and knowledgeable and totes threatening!!! Well, I'm convinced and not on the verge of napping from boredom.

Naturally for reasons, Rowena goes into town entirely by herself without protection with their only real hope of containing the ghosts before the barrier breaks down instead of anybody insisting on her going with backup. That's what anybody with a brain would do!

Of course no one asks where Ketch has been the whole time. Or even thinks of trying to test him after he was last seen literally knocked unconscious in the middle of ghost central where we know there are plenty of ghosts angry enough to be capable of possession. Nope, why would anyone even think to do that? Everything in this “plot” that happens requires all of the characters to be completely fucking stupid.

I'm going to assume by “you” Ketch meant “you Winchesters” because Mary wasn't there. It probably didn't, because Bucklemming, but fuck it. It's the least egregious stupidity in this episode that's a cornucopia of choices for the worst.

I … actually like the scenes with Chuck and Amara? So, you know, that's something!

Then the episode ends with the guys looking at all the ghosties still shooting up from hell and wring their hands about what they're going to do and maybe they should get on that! Again, if Sam's flunkies aren't all dead, why aren't their worthless asses already researching this shit over the past two days? It's not like it's new news that there was a big open hole to hell at the center of the problem and there was honestly nothing but wrangling some cranky civilians to interfere with trying to think ahead to that.

In summary, this episode is a constant showcase of the problems that result when you set incompetent morons who don't recognize their own inadequacy to write characters who are actually supposed to be intelligent experts at their work. It's a joke – except not at all funny.

#writer incompetence #anti bucklemming #negativity for ts #negativity all the way down #long post #spn 15x02 #spn season 15

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fanfictiongreenirises · 4 years

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(1) I want to thank you for your Supernatural posts, which keep me up on what's happening even though I stopped watching a few seasons ago. I still need to know what's going on with Dean and Cas. I *need* it. (2) looking at posts about the latest ep, I just wonder, like, if the showrunners *aren't* going to make Dean canonically bi, then... WTF are they doing??? it's seemed before like they have a handle on who their fanbase is. for all of our sake's, I hope they're not just queerbaiting

hi!!!! i’m honestly so relieved you enjoy the weekly spn spam instead of blacklisting the tag lol.

oh man, i have no idea what they’re doing. i feel like i’m probably not the best person to be answering this, because not only do i have a really shitty memory about what actors, producers, writers, etc. have said, but i also don’t keep up with them as much as i used to. up until the last ep that came out (15.07) i was so on board with the fact that not only was dean going to be established as bisexual, but dean and cas were going to become at least somewhat canon, but now i have no idea. the thing is, this season (for me and for most ppl, judging from the parts of fandom i’ve loitered in, anyway) has been refreshingly good. there’s also the fact that this season has had a really nice, consistent focus on cas and how he fits in with both the winchesters and with the story as a whole, and every episode feels like they’re leading to something very big with him, and with him and dean (this isn’t even subtext: they replay the scene known as the Destiel Divorce at the start of every episode since it happened). it hasn’t felt like anything they’ve done is fanservice, because it was executed well and actually had plot and meaning behind it, etc. but at this point, with only 13 episodes left to go before the show is over, it feels like anything they do in terms of destiel is going to feel too little, too late, or like fanservice, despite how well the rest of the season is going. also wtf i wanted more from both bi!dean and destiel and at this point we’ll maybe get like 5-10 episodes with it if we’re lucky?

there was a lot of speculation that 15.07 was going to introduce or hint towards bi!dean, because dean’s whole plot in it was that he met a hunter he’d been friends with when sam was in uni, and that was a perfect opportunity for them to introduce to us bi!dean in a way that integrates it well into dean’s storyline without making it feel like a completely new, completely fanservice-y addition. (and the fact that there were bi flag colours in the promo really helped push things along lol.) but in the end, it didn’t pan out, as you’ve probably seen from the posts, and that was the first time i thought that maybe dean wasn’t going to be established as bi, or that dean and cas were going to move beyond anything platonic.

at this point in watching spn (and i haven’t even been here that long - this is like my seventh year of being a fan), i don’t know what’s me and the rest of shippers being clowns and seeing stuff where there’s nothing to be seen, and what’s actual easter eggs and clues they’re dropping. but there’s enough in this season alone that makes me want an explanation if they don’t end up establishing canon bi!dean or destiel, because then what did all those scenes and clues even mean, y’know? i hope it isn’t queerbaiting, because then they’d have been stringing us along for twelve years with all this subtext at what point is telling ppl they’re seeing subtext where there’s no subtext gaslighting lol. (i would also like for this explanation to come in the form of a giant essay with screenshots, because there have been so many meta writers who deserve that after all the work they put in analysing and writing their own essays.)

there’s apparently going to be a really significant confrontation between cas and dean in 15.09, so maybe that’ll change things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#also u can Always come and just randomly message me about spn like always =D #spn spoilers

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tinkdw · 6 years

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So, just to put the record straight on my own POV of Cas because “meta writers don’t care about Cas” wank is really not only an insult but deeply hurtful to those of us for whom Cas might actually be our favourite or the one we identify the most with. The only difference is our perception of who he is...

So here is my POV and no I’m not being the positivity police, if you want to be negative on your blog no issue from me, just don’t have a go at me and mine for enjoying it because we see Cas’ story entirely differently.

You know who I love? Cas.

You know who is a cool character but I don’t love? Castiel Angel of the Lord.

You know why I love Cas’ story arc this and last season? Because it’s addressing his OWN INTERNAL STORY of moving from where he started as Castiel Angel of the Lord to Cas. Just as Dean (and Sam) are also changing over time, but mostly Dean as Cas is a Dean mirror more than Sam. They both are entirely subverting how they were set up at first, miserable and not their true selves (see Cas’ season 4 arc that now is a smaller/shallower version of his decade long arc), cos, you know... character development is a thing that exists.

But for Cas’ own arc in itself and especially in Dabb era it’s nothing to do with Sam or Dean or anyone else, it’s all about HIM, his own internal monologue of self doubt and self worth issues for YEARS finally coming to a climax in his death and rebirth out the other side, literally rising like a phoenix from the flames to be BETTER now. Getting towards his own endgame of where he chooses to be and more importantly who he chooses to be.

This “you only love Cas if you’re rabid about his story now” is total bullcrap, it’s saying “you only love Cas if you see it from my pov (which is one that says this whole story is crap and reads him totally differently to start with)”. It’s insulting not only to those of us who love it because we had this different perception from the get go but also to the writers who are lovingly writing this story. Take a look at the episodes Dabb wrote in the past and watch the Dabb interviews and tell me again how he doesn’t love Cas, I dare you.

I LOVE Cas and I LOVE his story now because it totally fits how I read his story being written for the last decade. It ain’t my problem if it’s not yours. Don’t call me names because I like it and it’s building towards great things IMO for him.

I don’t want stuff for Cas that I don’t analytically perceive he doesn’t canonically want, I want what the writers have led me to believe he wants.

I want good things for Cas as per what I believe HE canonically wants. I’m not projecting MY desires on him, only his own.

So no, I don’t personally see Cas smiting people and using Angelic powers as him being him and oh so cool #its my Cas. That doesn’t mean I don’t love Cas, it just means I don’t see those things as a part of who he is ( I don’t write the show, I could be wrong, it’s just what I see written over the last decade, hence I write meta not wishlists).

Smiting? Being “badass”? This is mostly from season 6/8 and I mean season 6 is where he was utterly vilified and they were aiming to kill him off and season 8 he was mind controlled by Heaven to utterly not be himself. He breaks it by STOPPING the fighting because that’s not who he is! It’s not a good thing! Smiting things is not who Cas is! He always just did it as a means to an end. We see this from season 4 then the whole exposition of season 7 Cas who told us what was really going on with him after all the terrible choices he made in season 6 and exposing more of who he really is (whilst also showing his deep anguish and running away from the consequences of his actions), but without making him human yet and we get all the nuggets like:

So yeah, forgive me if smiting / using his angel powers is not something I see as “being his true self” because that’s just not my opinion at all.

Cas’ true self? Helping people (not by killing others), being kind, a little vain at times, snarky and cheeky, he likes PB&J and pork rinds, pays attention to his friend’s favourite movie though it’s not his thing because it’s important to Dean, is a generally good egg and wants peace but will let go of his own peace to bring it to others because he is so selfless.

And yeah human endgame is a part of this but it’s not all of it and it’s not the be all and end all.

You also know what has no fucking impact on my pov of Cas’ own arc? Destiel.

Is a romantic relationship part of his story? Sure! But it doesn’t revolve around it and as I and others have repeatedly said it’s more of an endgame reward at this point than anything. Dean (and Sam) led him to figure his own shit out, that canonically he had going on before he ever met them, they were just the catalyst to his realising, breaking away from Heaven to get Free Will and starting this journey, they helped along his journey but ultimately the journey is HIS.

He has to figure this out himself, Dean doesn’t fix him. Pfff. That’s the whole POINT.

The current Cas storyline is, IMO, brilliant, I love it, he reached an all time low then got HIMSELF out of the empty, his “bad choice” in season 12 is currently coming to a really interesting point where it’s looking more and more like a good choice (shocker for anyone whose read my blog for the last year) and he is in the process of doing things for himself, sorting himself out, just as Dean and Sam are.

They’ve all been through so . much . shit . Of course I want to bundle Cas up in a blanket but it’s not realistic in a dramatic TV show. Already reached their endgame before said endgame is boring and BAD for a character. What’s dramatic but good for the character? Giving him his own arc, making him CENTRAL to the mytharc plot through the Angels/Jack and the character plot through Dean. I mean, Cas is ALL OVER this season and he’s been dead for half of it by this point! He’s barely even been on screen and he’s had so many amazing, poignant moments.

Sure I want more Cas, but we know Misha isn’t in every episode and I would far rather get great deep and meaningful plot entirely for Cas himself than him just be a peripheral tool to Sam and Dean’s plots, which is exactly what we have this (and last) season.

I do hope for more Cas after the holidays, but honestly if they keep writing him as so important and with such great self help plot lines and getting himself into his own happy endgame as they’ve set up so far I am so here for this.

Remember Andrew freaking Dabb is the one who wrote Hammer of the Gods, Road Trip, Stairway To Heaven, There Will be Blood... Oh and relevant in every freaking way possible, the one episode I see as a huge meta callback pin board of Dabb era Hunter Heroici where he said:

“I’m going to become a Hunter”

“I’ll watch over you”

“I caused a lot of suffering on earth, but I devastated Heaven. I vaporized thousands of my own kind, and I can't go back... because if I see what Heaven's become, what I, what I made of it... I'm afraid I might kill myself”.

“I have been trying to pretend that I can escape what I did in Heaven, but I can't. All that pain that I caused, I have to come back, to make things right.”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#what could this all mean?#lmao #look im just giving my pov im not saying im right but fuck off with your opinion is the only one and i cant be a cas fan #imo #meta writing #is not wishlisting #cas winchester #cas meta #tinks meta

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routinely-unamoosed-blog · 7 years

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13x03 ~ Familiar Taste of Poison

Summary: Sam struggles to be on Maddie’s side as Dean continues torturing her, all the while Toni is becoming more of a bother.

Character(s): Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Maddie Rayner (OC), Toni Bevell

Word Count: 4,876

Warning(s): shit ton of angst, explicit language, mentions of the biggest bitch named toni, mentions of cas’ death that r really insulting to cas as a character but that’s just maddie being maddie so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

One | Two

“Hey,” Dean muttered, his flannel opening a bit at the hem as he walked into the library.

Sam looked up from his lore book. His mind was somewhere else as his eyes drifted across the page, facts about birds being included on the list of monsters he and his brother would hunt. He was dumbfounded when nothing on the combination of a bird, or anything avian, and a human was mentioned.

He lifted his brow a bit higher than it was when Dean jerked his thumb back in the direction he came. “She’s awake,” he finally said after standing there for a solid minute.

The youngest Hunter cleared his throat and slowly closed his book. “O-okay. I’ll, uh, be there in a minute,” he said, voice dropping to barely a whisper. A lump had risen to his throat, and his gut twisted. He tried to talk—he begged, even pleaded—to his brother, and knock some sense into what he was doing with one of the greatest Hunters in the nation.

Kidnapping a Rayner was one thing, but Tasing her? Tying her up and putting her inside of the Impala’s trunk? He felt sick about it, and he could only make himself feel worse when he found himself comparing his brother to Toni; he had kept his mouth shut during the ride back. He went with the flow of things and just . . . went with it.

“Dee?” His brother stopped in his tracks. Sam understood this game all too well; using nicknames was when he wanted to talk about something serious or get something off his chest. Dean pivoted on his heel. Sam didn’t give his brother a chance to speak. “Don’t you think you’re . . . kinda emulating . . . you-know-who?”

Dean frowned. “Who are you . . .”

“I mean, come on. Tasing Mads? Tying her up and putting her inside the trunk? I can’t really find myself not relating to her a little bit.” Sam let his voice trail off. He felt his patience wearing thin, especially when the devil herself clicked her tongue in disagreement.

Toni sat in the war room, her elbow leaning on what appeared to be the southern coast of Argentina. Her fair hair was done in a neat bun parallel to her eyes on the back of her head, with a tan leather jacket accommodating a white undershirt and matching dress pants. Black flats completed the look, along with beige eyeshadow to bring out those stupid eyes.

She shook her head slightly. “You don’t like me, Samuel, but I get it. Maybe Maddie would enjoy the same activities we endured during our time together. Or, perhaps, once that strapping lad of a brother leaves, we could have some . . . alone time, hmm?”

Sam glanced over at her with a slight shudder, tears springing to his eyes when he saw the needle in her hand. He managed to keep his fear and anger under control, but the second his brother rolled his eyes and retreated down the hall, the Hunter jumped from his chair and dashed down the stone stairs. He stopped at the world map, bracing himself on it with both hands trembling and his fingers turning white. Anger made his face hard, with his upper lip twitching in irritation.

His veins rose along his skin. Toni glanced down at them and licked her lips to his disgust. Sam lifted his arm and pointed at her with a stiff hand. “Shut. Up. You’re not . . . real.”

Standing, Toni sauntered her way around the table at a slow and predatory pace. Her eyebrow was arched slightly, with her tongue set between her teeth. Maddie had done the same exact thing in the motel parking lot. He thought it was hot, but now? He felt disgusted for even considering the action as sexy on Maddie’s part.

He shook his head at Toni, pressing his thumb into his palm where his scar used to be from years ago.

It still worked. Toni flickered away with an eyeroll.

He was finally greeted with silence. He finally felt calm in what seemed like weeks, or months if he counted the tension between his brother and his estranged mother. He knew Toni would be back later, but Sam decided to embrace this moment of silence with open arms.

A hand ran through his hair as he sighed deeply, feeling hesitant when he stepped back into the library. His book, checked out from the local library when he couldn’t find anything bird related in the Bunker, lay closed on the nearest table closest to the steps. His hand reached out and scooped it up with ease, the book opening to the page he marked with a sticky-note.

His mind went directly to Maddie the second he laid eyes on a depiction of the Greek god Eros. A marble statue of the god was said to be of Pompeiian decent, one line said, and a blush ran to his cheeks when he read that Eros was, officially, the god of sexual desire and attraction.

Even mythology can predict his future. He shook his head and turned the page, only to be greeted by another mouthful of a paragraph of Eros. His jaw clenched. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he read on. One part of the paragraph quoted a Greek comic playwright named Aristophanes that detailed the birth of Eros:

“At the beginning, there was only Chaos, Night (Nyx), Darkness (Erebus), and the Abyss (Tartarus). Earth, the Air and Heaven had no existence. Firstly, black-winged Night laid a germless egg in the bosom of the infinite depths of Darkness, and from this, after the revolution of long ages, sprang the graceful Love (Eros) with his glittering golden wings, swift as the whirlwinds of the tempest. He mated in the deep Abyss with dark Chaos, winged like himself, and thus hatched forth our race, which was the first to see the light.”

Sam’s lips parted a bit, his brow furrowing in deep concentration. He turned the page again, reading more on winged humanoids in folklore and mythology. There was the Greek legend of Icarus, the son of an Athenian craftsman who built the famous Labyrinth in Crete. Icarus and his father, Daedalus, were imprisoned in the Labyrinth when King Minos’ daughter helped Theseus, the enemy of the king, defeat the Minotaur.

He knew this legend all too well. He was always a fan of mythology, even if it wasn’t relevant to a case. Daedalus fashioned a pair of wings using wax, feathers and a thread given to them from Ariadne, King Minos’ daughter. Escaping the Labyrinth, Daedalus instructed Icarus to not fly too low above the Mediterranean Sea or to not fly too high, for the Sun would melt the wax. Icarus disregarded his father’s advice and flew too close to the Sun, whose rays melted the wax and sent Icarus to his death.

The thought of death made his mind wander. He thought about how iron and silver were the two number one things that monsters could be killed, but he remembered seeing an iron ring on Maddie’s middle finger. Plus, not to mention, the angel sword she wields must be made of iron or silver, so she couldn’t be killed by either of those elements.

Maybe it’s not a mythological thing, he thought and shut the book. He stood from his chair and stalked to the staircase, hustling down them and jogging to his bedroom. He rushed past the closed dungeon door, not even taking a glance at it. He was worried about what Dean was doing to Maddie, but he was paranoid now that Dean would do worse if he didn’t get what he wanted.

Sam ignored Toni’s figure on his bed. Her jacket was off, and with that revealed her bare arms from the shoulder down. He hated to admit that her arms looked quite nice despite her age.

He blushed slightly when she crawled to the end of the bed at yet another predatory pace, her fingers wrapping around the footboard. Her hair fell from over her shoulder to rest above her breast.

Her hand reached for him when he finally found his tablet. He unplugged it from its charger atop his dresser. Toni’s fingers gripped his sleeve and tugged him closer to the bed, her other hand trailing up his chest. Sam clenched his fists with his jaw hinging forward in protest.

He knew she was trying to reel him in. She was trying so damn hard to make him fall for her again.

He shoved himself away and left the room, pressing his thumb into his palm as he did so. He heard the strained flickering behind him; he didn’t look over his shoulder. He felt her, though. He felt her presence looming over him from behind even though she was massively short compared to his monstrous height.

He ignored her again. He turned the corner and stopped in front of the dungeon door. It was the only thing that kept him away from Maddie. His heart tugged at what Dean was doing, and it tugged even harder when he heard her groaning inside.

Sam dug deep inside himself to find the courage to open the damn door. His hand shook as he turned the lever, the gears inside of the eighty-two-year-old door groaning in protest as it slowly opened. It was quite heavy, in his opinion, but he found it easier to open each time he did it. His daily workout routines were paying off, both on and off the job.

The bookcases were closed. Chains rattling echoed in the large room, with the combination of old books and blood making Sam’s eyes water. He blinked and shook his head. His hand trembled even more now when he reached out and pulled open the two bookcases, revealing a pissed-off Dean and a bloodied Maddie.

The first thing he noticed about her was the giant scar running from the center of her forehead to her jawline. It was a wide wound that was bleeding profusely, with thick trails of blood dripping into her lap and on the floor. Her left cheek was slashed, as well, as were both her arms. A dried pool of blood soaked her shirt in the stomach area; her shoulders were bleeding with large X’s carved into them.

How is she alive? he thought.

Dean set down a machete that was covered from tip to heel with blood. His hands were turning pink and crimson with new and dried blood.

The tray next to him, mocking the youngest Winchester’s former demise with Toni, was filled with instruments of torture. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably and cleared his throat, toying with the tablet as he swept his eyes over Maddie and the table.

Turning, his brother looked up at him. Suddenly Dean’s face lit up a bit, and that darkness in his eyes was gone. It disturbed Sam more than when Dee had the Mark of Cain, or when he was a demon. Eye wrinkles creased in the corners of his brother’s eyes, a characteristic that the women of the world couldn’t resist.

“Hey, Sammy,” he said with happiness in his voice.

Sam cast a concerned glance Maddie’s way. Her shirt and jeans were in pieces. Both items of clothing were covered in blood, with her lap being the most covered from the scar on her face. What alarmed him the most was how still she sat.

He shifted on his feet and showed Dean the screen. “Maybe she isn’t anything, Dean,” he muttered, pain cracking his voice. His gut churned the second he saw her like this. It pained him to see her tortured to a pulp and barely breathing while chained to a chair in a place unfamiliar to her. The least Dean could do was loosen the bonds, but even he knew that was a horrible idea.

His mind sent off alarms in his head. when he thought about what would happen if she got free. She’d kill us both, that’s for sure, he thought with a dizzying wave of uneasiness.

Maddie’s head lifted a bit. Sam’s jaw clenched when her shoulders rolled and her head lifted itself up to stare at the ceiling. The chains behind her rattled quite loudly when she began to struggle, her teeth baring and a snarl leaving her lips. She glanced behind her at her bonds and stared up at Dean with death in her eyes.

“Are the chains necessary, Dean, or are they here to satisfy your kinks?” she spat, a taunting arch of an eyebrow clearly setting the Hunter off. Sam fought a snicker on his part and managed to keep it on the inside.

Dean stepped over after he retrieved a dagger smaller than the machete. Sam’s gut churned the closer his brother got to her and tensed when Dee grabbed Maddie’s jaw in his hand and rested the tip of the blade on her chest. He chuckled to Sam’s dismay. The eldest Hunter’s head lifted a bit as if narrowing his eyes and twisted the blade on the surface of Maddie’s skin. Her face contorted to a slight grimace, but her expression remained taunting.

“I’m gonna ask you once and once only,” Dean spat, voice dripping with venom, “what are you?”

Maddie let out a devilish chuckle that mocked Dean’s. Sam felt a pang of regret for just standing there and not doing something, for the angel killer’s next words would haunt him forever: “Your questions can kiss my ass, Dean.” Dean’s hand flew between her side and right arm, his fingers grabbing the reinforced steel chains and pinning them to her wrist. Hissing filled the dungeon, mixed with Maddie’s pained grunts and profane threats she spewed at him. Sam shifted on his feet, fists clenched at his sides, and forced himself to not grab Dean and throw him across the room.

“Dean,” he said quietly, voice deeper than usual with emotion. Dean ignored him and grabbed the dagger from the tray and stabbed the blade into her leg. Flesh squished and blood boiled to the surface, pooling over her leg and dripping to the floor. A violent scream burst from Maddie’s throat, with the chains rattling loudly in the dungeon.

Bile rose in Sam’s throat. Toni stood behind the chair, an arm draping on Maddie’s shoulder. She was dressed in the same outfit as earlier, this time a blowtorch replacing the needle she had held. His jaw clenched when it turned on, which made him jump to his dismay, and told himself this wasn’t real.

This isn’t real, he thought when Toni placed the nozzle of the torch directly on Maddie’s scar.

Before he knew it, Sam was barreling down the hall towards his room. A wave of coolness slammed into the back of his head as he bent over the sink and vomited, his eyes squeezing shut. He remained there, arms braced on the sides of the sink, until nothing but stomach acid came up.

His throat burned, his mouth hurt. He shuddered and coughed, hoping and praying nothing else would come up. He rested his forehead on his arm, turning the sink on and washing his vomit down the drain.

When he looked up, a single tear slipped from his eye when, in the mirror, Toni stood behind him. A soft smile was on her face as they stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Those crystal pools haunted him both in and out of sleep, and today marks the eighth day he hasn’t slept a full night without nightmares.

She took a step forward. Another tear slipped, another drop of his dignity falling with it. His soul felt weak inside of him; it cowered in the corner when Toni stalked her way closer to him. He watched her in the mirror, his entire body shaking when her ice cold hands wrapped around his frame. He closed his eyes and shuddered in front of the sink.

“I missed you,” she purred, resting her head on his shoulder, hands snaking around his chest. He shook in her grasp, with tears dripping into the sink. “You know, Sam . . . I know you enjoyed our little fling together. How you groaned my name? I’d—”

Sam grabbed the glass sitting beneath the mirror and hurled it across the room over Toni’s head, with her figure fading away like smoke as he screamed, “Leave me alone!”

He stood there with his chest heaving in anger. He ran his hand through his hair and blinked, squeezing shut his eyes and opening them wide as the room swayed beneath his feet. Voices added to his dizziness, with most of them being different things Toni had spoken to him during his time with her.

Sometimes objects in his room flickered to things in the farmhouse. His duffle bag on his bed changed to cow prods, and his stash of ammunition flickered to needles and drugs of various sizes and doses. The voices grew in volume.

Toni’s degrading words and taunts rose to shouts, with moments of Ms. Watt carving into him flashing across his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was falling to the concrete floor.

It took him about five weeks to finally gather the courage to go back into the dungeon. He had busied himself with research sessions and bidaily jogs to the store, where he would stock up on whatever things the Bunker needed: beer, food, ingredients for his “disgusting and nasty” protein shakes, as described by his wonderful brother; and over-the-counter sleeping pills.

He drove himself to insomnia as the weeks crawled on without sleep. He had kept his lack of sleep from his brother, of course, claiming he had stayed up too late doing research for various or sparse cases; last week, there was a werewolf in Elkhorn, Nebraska, that took only four days to finish.

Dean had found him unconscious in his bedroom. Apparently, he had passed out from lack of sleep, and Sam even suffered a concussion from slamming his head on the floor. His brother said he needed stitches, but it didn’t take long for his memory to come back.

It didn’t take long for him to remember Maddie was still here.

Maddie’s screams slipped their way beneath his door. He flinched when her screams suddenly stopped. He slammed shut his book. It was a lore book on Chupacabra, and everything he’d read went out the window as he hurled himself off his bed and opened the door.

It took a while to make it to the dungeon. Even though he and his brother had been living there for almost five years, he still found himself becoming lost and continuing straight when he should’ve turned the corner.

Toni appeared next to him, her shoulder leaning on the wall next to the door. Sam ignored her, as per usual, as he stepped inside. The dungeon was consumed in darkness, save for the domes of yellow given off by the lights above him. His head shook in irritation when the soft clacks of Toni’s heels sounded seconds later.

The bookcases were closed suspiciously. It was obviously Dean’s very poor way of covering something up that happened to Mads, and it didn’t take long for Sam to realize how quiet it was in the musty room. It was too quiet, in his opinion, and as he made his way toward the bookcases, Toni couldn’t help but commentate.

“Quiet like you,” she whispered.

“Screw you,” Sam replied, his hands reaching out and wrapping around the shelf’s iron case. He gave the two rolling bookshelves a good tug, and the doors opened, sending a wave of pale light to shine on his lower body and on Toni’s entire, fictional and completely nonexistent body.

Maddie sat in the chair with her head bowed, her chest never rising and falling. A piece of duct tape was positioned over her lips, with her head wound bleeding more than he’d seen it earlier. It seemed like her knees were cut and bleeding to beyond restoration, but it looked like her wounds from weeks ago were already healing.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Toni quipped with intrigue. Sam’s heart twisted with disgust as Toni made her way to Maddie, stopping and admiring the damage on the Hunter’s body. “Beautiful handiwork.”

He ran over when he saw the machete embedded into her shoulder, keeping the right side of her body pinned to the chair.

Sam fell to a kneeling position, his hands immediately going to cradle her head. His hands stopped, however, and instead went to check her pulse. Her skin was cold beneath his, and a tear came to his eye when her pulse was deemed faint.

Her head snapped up and muffled screams filled the room. Her eyes were wide as ever, scanning his face for the apparent darkness she had witnessed with Dean. Sam clutched her face and rubbed his thumbs along her jaw, quietly shushing her as she struggled and screamed. His heart tugged.

“Hey. Hey, Mads,” he whispered, “Maddie. Maddie! Listen to me, okay? I’m not here to hurt you. Promise. Just lemme take this off and I can help you. Okay? Do you trust me?”

She quieted a bit. Her chest heaved and shone with sweat, soft grunts leaving her sealed mouth. Her head lolled when she lifted it up, to which Sam grabbed the sides of her neck and held her head up with his thumbs. His heart thundered in his chest as he shook her to try and keep her alive or conscious; he couldn’t tell if she was hyperventilating, passing out or dying.

Finally, she nodded and allowed him to pry the duct tape off her lips. Her breath shuddered and she shook in the chair. When Sam went to get a grip on the machete, she shook her head and let her head fall back slightly with exhaustion.

It took her a few seconds to find words. Seeing her so exhausted from fighting the pain Dean had caused her made him feel gross. For once in his life, he could relate to Rayner. For obvious reasons, the Rayner bloodline couldn’t necessarily be deemed as relatable, but now? He never felt so complete with Maddie.

He waited for her to speak, and once she did, his tormentor snickered next to him.

“Leave it in. I-I don’t him to think you’re . . . he-helping me.” Maddie’s voice was beyond raspy, possibly from her five weeks’ worth of torture on his brother’s part. The thought of Dean made Sam tense and glance over his shoulder, thankful he didn’t see his brother.

Toni paced around Maddie and stopped at her side, legs bending so she could be level with the angel Hunter. Sam took his hands from Maddie’s head and pressed his thumb into his palm as hard as he could, grunting when Toni’s figure simply flickered like a television losing its signal for a few moments. Instead, he focused on Maddie. She was his number one priority at the moment, and at any time, Dean could return from his break. It pained Sam to know that he had a ticking time bomb in his hands, plus a hallucinogenic Toni Bevell weaseling into his life like Lucifer did.

Least you’re not with him, he thought. He felt a little better after that thought came and went, but the glare from the Woman of Letters made him resist making eye contact with her.

“The question is, Samuel, would you rather be with me or Lucifer? After all, you were tortured by him, so what makes you think I’m any better?” Toni’s voice annoyed him, and this accent in a pantsuit bitch made him want to punch a wall. He ignored her; it was the only thing he could do without looking insane. Sam clenched his jaw as he stared at Maddie. Her eyes, he realized, were struggling to stay open. He looked at the machete, which was probably the only thing that was keeping her from bleeding out.

He looked up at the second door not far from Maddie’s chair. If he could get her out of the chair without severing any major organs, he could have her in a motel a few miles away in less than an hour. An hour could save her life, he thought. His hand lifted to grab the machete, but he knew Maddie would start bleeding the second he moved the weapon.

Praying that Toni would go away out of annoyance, he waited until Maddie returned her gaze to him. Tears were in her eyes, and Sam’s soul felt crushed. She was scared—horrified was a better word—and in serious pain, possibly thinking that he was here to hurt her. He wanted to yell at her that he was here to help, but even he knew she’d think that was bullshit.

“Maddie. No, no, no, hey. Hey, Mads. Stay awake for me, okay?” Her head was bobbing up and down, and he knew it wasn’t long until she lost consciousness. Her lips barely moved as she looked up at him through her drooping lashes. “I’m so tired . . .” Her voice was barely a whisper, either, and it broke his heart. Just seeing her like this broken, defeated woman who didn’t deserve any of this.

Sam bowed his head, lips scrunching to the side in thought. His brow furrowed, too, and the idea that hatched in his brain went burning to the ground when the door opened behind him, and Dean’s halted footsteps stopped.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was deep with confusion and slight anger. “What’re you doing?”

Mads lifted her head as much as she could with a groan, the flesh around the machete squishing around. More blood oozed from the wound and dripped to the floor. The chains rattling filled the silence that wrapped its arms around the Hunters. Dean held his knife, twirling it on his fingertip nonchalantly.

Sam’s jaw clenched tightly when Maddie spoke. “Bet you wish Castiel could zap on in and heal me. Brand new slate for a brand new session, huh?” She drew in a sharp breath as if wincing and continued. “Ooh. Hold on. That’s right. He’s dead as a doornail.”

Dean stormed over and placed the dagger’s tip on her chin. Sam moved to push him away, but his brother’s other hand reached into the back of his pants and took out his pistol, cocking and raising it to Sam’s head without looking away from Maddie.

“Don’t even, Sam.”

“Course, I’m not saying that you wish he was here. You want him here, need him here. Is that right? That longing, depressive feeling that’s been eating at you for weeks is simply delicious, in my opinion. The greatest Hunter in the nation had his precious little boyfriend put down like a dog. But, alas. If only I were the one who made that killing stab, my life would be so much brighter.” He was shocked Dean didn’t end her right then and there. What happened, however, was his big brother grabbing the machete and twisting it clockwise, sending a fountain of blood to lightly spray from the wound.

Instead of screaming, Maddie let out a maniacal chuckle. “Y’know, the little bastard deserved it. Fucking up the world for one measly human, rebelling against his superiors for one measly human. Almost killing seven billion people for Dean Winchester.

“I wonder how it feels to have the love of your life taken from you so tragically, so soon,” she continued, her voice cracking and dipping as she spoke. “But, I guess he died knowing you didn’t love him. Bet he never got the chance to say, either, considering his little problems he had to deal with. His family never accepted him—his true family, might I add—and everybody talking about him like he was nothing but a piece of shit walking this earth. Oh, wait! He still is, even in death. I sleep great at night, by the way, knowing that he died without a purpose. Guess he’ll always be the one who got away, huh, Dean?”

Sam stared at her in horror. Tears were in his eyes at the degrading and shocking words that this woman just said about his friend, but he wasn’t prepared for the bone-rattling punch that Dean threw, Maddie’s head whipping back and going limp as she slumped to the side, unresponsive. When her chest rose and fell, a sigh of relief left both Hunters.

The younger Hunter stared awkwardly at his brother. Dean’s knuckles were bleeding and cracked, but apparently, he didn’t care. When Dee exhaled sharply, Sam cleared his throat. “Why don’t I take a stab at her? Y-you need a break, anyway.”

Dean turned and stared at him like he had said that Dad was alive and breathing. At first, he was confused, but then his brother shook his head and turned to leave. “Cut her tongue out next time,” Dean said over his shoulder as the door was opened. It creaked closed faster than Sam could unchain Mads and carry her towards the door.

#horrors & hunters #supernatural #spn fanfic #horrors and hunters #sam x maddie #sam x ofc #sam winchester #jared padalecki #dean winchester #jensen ackles #toni bevelle #elizabeth blackmore #maddie rayner #odette annable #this toni thing is interesting imo #so guess who's keeping her >:D

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maxineswritingcenter · 5 years

Text

Take it on the Run -Dean Winchester x Reader part 6 finale

Read part 5 here!

Summary: After a month long, whirl-wind romance with the new guy in town (Dean), he ghosts, as if he never existed. You are devastated, eating plenty of ice cream, your friend decides to take you out for drinks and karaoke. Maybe something happens who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A/N: this is my second time writing this because Tumblr ate the first one so here we go!

Warnings: Fighting, you're still kidnapped

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(Y/N)-

"He's not coming back..." I whispered. The situation I was in couldn't be far from the worse possible. In the clutches of a mad man or thing and the only person that could save me was gone, never to be seen again.

"Oh sweetheart," I cringed away at the voice. Hearing Dean's voice coming out of this monster did nothing but pull me into a false sense of security.

"You obviously don't know the Winchesters. Those psychos have a hero complex. They're not going to leave the damsel in distress. Besides, through my psychic connection I have with your boyfriend I can tell he's driving plenty over the speed limit and will be here any time now." He said, dropping the covering he had over himself.

Anger bubbled in my chest. If I was going to die here, then so be it. But not Dean, not Sam.

"If you kill me, there's no way they'll let you live." I spat.

He only chuckled, "Oh don't worry. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Or should I say your sleeve." He lifted his hands to his face and I turned away. I would puke whatever bile I had left in my stomach before I would watch that thing take on a a new body. After the wet flop landed on the floor I looked up and saw... Myself. I watched myself smirk and walk over to a dufflebag in the corner, pulling out some of my clothes.

"After you're dead and I get rid of those Winchesters I'm going to update your closet. It looks like a step dad trying to relive his glory days died in there." My eyes began to get sore. Whatever tears that would have left my eyes weren't coming, I was way too dehydrated. My throat ached to scream and cry. But I couldn't. I was too weak. I was going to die here, dirty and weak and alone and no one would know. That thing was going to take over my life and who knows how far it would go. Would he go after (Y/F/N) next?

My figure bent down in front of me, "Don't worry. It'll all be over soon." He grabbed a discarded piece of metal from the floor and looked over it before slamming it down onto my temple.

Dean-

We went back to the sewers, knowing that this thing was trying to lure us here and sewers are prime territory for shifters. They connected to the entire city. I looked at the necklace in my hand, thinking of the worse possible scenario was in my head. (Y/N) could already be dead. Left to rot down there while that thing disappeared. Kind of like how I disappeared and let this happen in the first place.

I shoved the necklace in my pocket when I heard the trunk of the Impala close. Sam came up behind me and offered me a large silver knife. I took it, gripping the leather handle. Sam loaded his gun with silver bullets.

"So what's the necklace?" He asked. I rolled my shoulders, continuing to look down into the man hole in the abandoned parking lot.

"It's (Y/N)'s. After a tornado hit town a bunch of people got trapped in their basements. (Y/N) saw this in some debris and picked it up. Then heard some people calling for help. Rescuers found a whole family trapped. If (Y/N) didn't see this, that family would be dead. It gave (Y/N) hope."

"Well, we'll need it." He put a hand on my shoulder, "Listen, if-"

"No 'ifs', Sammy. Only me and that son of a bitch."

"HELP!! ANYBODY! PLEASE!" The distant shouting made us jump into action, quickly descending into the dark hole. We landed. The scentch was foul. The shouting stopped, the only sound was the river of sewage besides us and the echos of water dripping.

I headed forward, Sam close behind. I held my hand up. Footsteps up ahead, someone was in a hurry. The unknown person turned a corner and my heart leapt in my chest.

"Dean!" (Y/N) grinned, running into my arms and squeezing me tight, "you're here, you're really here. You came back for me!" There were small little sobs in-between words.

I held back tight, rubbing (Y/N)'s back, "That's right, sweetheart. I came back for ya. You're safe."

"Wait," Sam's voice broke us apart, "How did you escape?"

(Y/N) smiled sadly, "I waited... I waited until it fell asleep. Then I hit it with a silver pot lying around and it knocked it out. I tied it up and tried to find a way out. But then you found me." A thought came to the back of my mind. (Y/N) wouldn't know about the weakness to silver for shifters.

"Lead the way, sweetheart. We'll gank that bastard." I said and motioned forward. (Y/N) smiled and started back down the tunnel.

"Something's not right." Sam said when (Y/N) was out of earshot. I nodded and motioned behind my back to stay on his toes.

(Y/N) brought us to a boiler room just off the main tunnel. Sitting in a chair, tied with rope was a figure matching (Y/N) but very different. This (Y/N) was covered in blood and grime, eyes sunken in and lips chapped. Just one look told me that that was my (Y/N).

(Y/N) stirred in the chair, head lifting up to face us. Eyes widening in shock as she took me in.

"You came..." (Y/N) whispered.

The shifter grabbed the knife from my hand and walked towards (Y/N), "Don't try to trick them! I told them all about you and you're going to get what you deserve!" They raised the knife and was read to strike.

"Wait!" I said, holding out my hand. The shifter stopped and turned towards me, pleading, "Please, Dean. I just want this to be over. I want to make sure (Y/F/N) and Fuzzybunches are alright."

"Fuzzybritches." Sam corrected it.

"That's what I said." It said. I motioned for Sam to start moving towards (Y/N) and walked closer to the shifter.

"I just figured you would want your necklace back. Said you didn't feel safe without it." I reached into my pocket and pulled it out, holding it out. The shifter went to grab it, but as soon as it touched their hand, they pulled it back, hissing in pain.

"What's wrong? Can't handle a silver locket?" I asked smugly.

The shifter, realizing it's plan was ruined, glared, "No. But I can still do this." It turned and brought the knife down hard towards (Y/N)'s chest.

(Y/N)-

The next few moments seemed to go from slow motion to the fastest things I had ever experienced. Sam grabbed the back of the chair I was tied to and pulled me away, the blade of the knife barely missing my chest. He quickly untied my ropes as Dean made a grab for the knife, but was practically thrown like a rag doll by the creature.

It turned back to us, marching towards me. Sam stood in its way and tried to draw his gun, but the shifter kicked him hard in the chest, sending him flying into the wall behind us. Attention back on me, he raised the knife again, then screamed in pain as the metal pipe Dean had grabbed slammed into it's wrist, knocking the knife away.

The creature turned and grabbed the pipe-mid swing, head butting Dean away. I scrambled around, trying to find something anything. My entire body felt like it was about explode from the rate that my heart was pumping. The shifter and Dean were desperately trying to get the knife. I finally found Sam's gun, my hands shaking as I tried to cock it. I turned, seeing that Dean and the creature we on the floor, the tip of the knife was pressed into Dean's chest. Dean was struggling to keep it away from failing.

"This is what you get, Winchester. This is what you deser-" I cut it off by shooting a bullet through its head, knocking it off Dean.

"Shut up." I sighed, exhausted. I dropped the gun and grabbed my ears. The loud blast still ringing in my ears. Dean gasped for air and sat up, quickly grabbing the knife and sticking it in the monster's heart.

Dean scrambled to his feet and walked cautiously to where I stood, his fingers ghosting over my face.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice was shaking a little.

"I'm okay, if anyone's wondering." Sam groaned as he stood up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sam-" Dean began but I cut him off by holding up my hand.

"I'm okay. Dehydrated and hungry? Yes. Sore as hell? Yes. But I'm okay." I said, my throat become more and more sore the more I talked. Sam came up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Let's get you out of here." He said.

Dean had looked away from me, but looked back when I grabbed his hand tightly in mine. Gripping onto his fingers with all the strength I had left.

"Yeah, let's."

"So what you're telling me is this." (Y/F/N) said, holding a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, "You got kidnapped. Dean and Sam rescued you, your welcome by the by," I rolled my eyes, carefully holding my coffee mug with my bandaged fingers.

"And now you're going to just drop everything in your life and go on the road with them?" I leaned back on (Y/F/N)'s couch, Fuzzybritches was purring loudly on my lap.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” I said, taking a sip. I absently touched the stitches on the side of my head, making sure they were partially hidden by hair.

(Y/F/N) shook there head, "I still haven't made my final judgement on Mr. Winchester. I mean, he's a brute and his brother is a moose and you want to live with that?"

"Uh yeah, that's the plan." I said, setting the empty mug on the counter.

"Have you talked to your parents about this?" They asked, leaning forward in their seat.

"Nah... I'll bring it up eventually." (Y/F/N) huffed and picked up a red flag from a cup on their desk and began waving it.

"Did you specifically make that for this conversation?" I chuckled, giving Fuzzy some ear scratches.

"Perhaps." They sighed, "Okay fine! But only because you're doing it anyway. Don't forget to text me so I don't track down your boyfriend again."

I got up, grabbing my duffle bag from the besides the door, "How did you do that anyway?" I asked.

"For me to know and you to find out." They crossed their arms over their chest.

After an emotional goodbye, I left (Y/F/N) little apartment and made my way towards the Impala parked in the parking lot. Dean was leaning against the hood, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked up and saw me, grinning. His whole face seemed to light up when he smiled.

"How'd it go?" He asked, taking my bag from me.

"You're still on their shit list but I'm sure you're on a lot of people's shit list." I smirked. He pulled his usual grumpy face that melted away when I pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Chill out, Dean-Bean." I smiled, making my way towards the back seat.

"Hey.." He grabbed my wrist and brought me back to his chest, holding me close. I prayed he couldn't feel my heart beating rapidly.

"You can still turn back. You don't have to do this." He said, but his voice didn't match the look in his eyes.

After Dean and Sam salted and burned the body of the shifter, Dean's full and undivided attention was on me. He brought me to the hospital so I could get stitches and fluids from the literal days without it. He was sitting in a chair besides the bed, head in his hands. I was lying back in the hospital bed, bandages on my hands and head, looking and feeling like crap. But the smallest beep made him shoot to his feet, looking me over to make sure I was alright.

"I'm okay, Dean." I whispered, my voice still wasn't what it used to be.

"This is my fault. I shouldn't have left you alone." He said, "You didn't deserve this. All of this happened because of me. I should have been there. You would be safe. Hell you shouldn't have even met me." His voice shook as he spoke, his hands were gripping the rails on the side of the bed. I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it all I could.

"Dean, I love you. And I always will. It was a freak incident. And now that we know what to look for and how to be safe. We're safe with each other. And that's why I'm going with you." I said the last part nonchalantly.

"Wait what?" He asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"You heard. I'm going with you." I said, sitting up.

"Sweetheart, that's not-"

"Safe? Yeah well I wasn't safe after you left either. You're going to give me the whole run down on anything that goes bump in the night and you're going to teach me to fight." I said, each word I said make his lips tug up higher and higher.

"This isn't the life for the weary." He said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I grabbed him by his collar, "I'll be the judge of that." I whispered against his lips before he closed the gap between us. He smiled into the kiss, humming happily.

"Dean-Bean?" Sam asked from the front, cause Dean to glare.

"Hey, shut up, bitch."

"Jerk." Sam responded. Once Dean tossed what was left of my stuff in the backseat we started down the road, driving farther and farther away from the town I called home. I played with the locket around my neck, holding it in my hands and unlocking the newly fixed clasp. Inside with a teeny tiny picture of Dean and on the other side was Fuzzybritches, the cat that had inadvertently saved my life. Suddenly a soft mewing came from the bag, causing Dean to slam on the breaks. The brothers turned to the back. I slowly opened the bag and saw Fuzzybritches looking at me mildly annoyed.

"We got a stowaway." Sam said, reaching backs and scratching her under her chin which Fuzzy was all about. I reach inside and found a note:

"Fuzzy said she wanted to go with you. She's keeping an eye on those boys of yours. Love (Y/F/N)." I read aloud.

Dean grumbled and started moving again, "Damn thing better not piss on the seats." I rolled my eyes and leaned forward, pressing a hard kiss to his cheek.

"Alright, boys, where we going?" I asked, looking over Sam's shoulder.

"Looks like some activity in North Colorado. Could be interesting." He said, looking over a few news clippings on his tablet. I reached forward, turning up the volume of the stereo, a very familiar song playing.

"Well, what we waiting for?" Dean grinned, pressing the gas harder so we flew down the old country road.

-------------------------------------------------

Yay! We did it! We have reached the end of Take it on the Run! I have a new fic planned that should be in the works soon!

Reblog and like if you liked it!

Requests are open to any of the fandoms listed in my bio.

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#take it on the run #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural creatures #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural

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eisforeidolon · 5 years

Text

Unhuman Nature

Honestly, if I actively wanted to watch a terribly written fantasy soap opera, I'll bet there are more entertaining ones out there I could find. I felt like this episode desperately wanted me to be emotionally invested in a lot of really ridiculous and completely over-the-top soapy bullshit that neither the episodes preceding it nor this one actually did the work to earn – at least not from me.

It's Bucklemming so this is yet another episode filled to the brim with Nick bullshit. I'm seriously supposed to care about Nick's wailing angst over a murder that happened to characters we didn't even meet alive nine seasons ago? LOL. I'm supposed to be, what, scared by him becoming a bog-standard human serial killer when even Pellegrino’s Lucifer hasn't been scary in several seasons? Yawn. I should be in any way drawn in by this story about the influence of possession on a human vessel when exploring that would be a million times more interesting with the actual main characters and it's written with all the subtlety and nuance of a brick to the face? Oh, please. Not to mention that it would actually be more interesting if demons hadn't killed Nick's family, that's how predictable and unnecessary this plotline is. The only thing that separates Nick and his family from every other group of randos harmed by monsters along the way is Ross-Lemming's Pellegrino thirst. The amount I absolutely do not care cannot be understated.

I think we're supposed to be sympathetic to the Winchesters being flummoxed by being questioned trying to admit Jack to the hospital? Like, normal people would be flustered by their worry in that situation, so we should feel it more? Except I wasn't sympathetic, because the Winchesters aren’t normal people - I thought it just made them look like idiots. Castiel, okay, him not knowing how anything works in that situation makes sense. Sam and Dean though? Within the show itself they've had to check themselves, each other, and other people they care about into the hospital. So they should damn well know how hospitals are about insisting on getting information upfront, and yet they don't discuss what to say for Jack in advance when they're thinking about taking him in? Let alone when they're in the car driving him there? No, of course they don't, because these writers are perfectly happy to make the characters idiots or OOC to do a “dramatic” scene they've decided they want.

Speaking of which, I already reposted some people pointing it out at the time, but the scene with Rowena not knowing who Jack is another example of that. She literally said his name when she was taunting Lucifer last season, but Bucklemming don't give a shit about continuity and desperately wanted a scene of pathetic woobie Jack convincing Rowena to stay after she was upset about his existence/possible evil. Pay attention to something in someone else's episodes? Ha, like they even pay attention to what's in their own! The thing is, Rowena being reluctant to help Jack and Jack playing on Rowena's desire to be appreciated by thanking her (without any awareness how persuasive that particular tack is) could actually work just fine if it wasn't proceeded by Rowena's sudden inexplicable bout of amnesia. Hell, the whole thing where she comes rushing in thinking Sam has called her to help save Dean would actually work better if they had remembered she already knew who Jack was!

Then there's the part where archangels can juice themselves up on regular ol’ angel grace, but Jack, of course, has a whole new set of special rules where that can't work because reasons. That's pretty much how all powers in this show work now, so I'm not surprised, just disappointed. I could maybe even forgive that for Jack because we haven't had a nephilim character before and they are meant to be a fairly rare and unique hybrid creature, but when the rules for bog standard witches and angels seem to change every single time they show up on screen, I am over it.

So the episode opens and Sam, Dean, and Cas are all SO CONCERNED about Jack. Yet for some reason, Dean is the only one that goes with him on his “live life for a day” trip, because … Okay, Castiel goes off to meet with Ketch's contact, Accent Guy. So at least there was an excuse there and he was trying to do something theoretically productive. But Sam just stays in the bunker … because ... it's not like he and Dean would have gone through every bit of information on nephilim that's in there already when they thought he was a threat. Or again when he lost his grace to begin with so they’d know what to expect. Going back through the material they have absolutely no reason not to have read already certainly couldn't be pawned off on the suddenly AWOL AU!hunters who literally, personally owe Jack their lives. Nope, that would make them actually useful for once, so Sam had to stay behind for reasons.

Look, I'm not saying I didn't like the scenes with Jack and Dean, because I did. Nor that I didn’t appreciate the brief bit of Impala porn in the teaching-Jack-to-drive segment. Nor that if I was going to pick only one of those three for a fun last-day-alive romp, it wouldn't be Dean. With that said, there was literally no reason for Sam to stay back when he's had the closest relationship to Jack overall – it was one of the most transparently ridiculous times the Winchesters have been split up recently for reasons and that is seriously saying something. It’s not like Dean would be magically unable to develop more of a connection with Jack, if that was the whole intent, if Sam was also there. Even from the angle of Sam sometimes coming off like a killjoy, I don't believe he wouldn't be willing to indulge a dying Jack in the same way he's sometimes been willing to indulge Dean when he was in peril or down (early season 3, Plucky, Advanced Thanatology, etc.)if he’d gotten the same speech from Jack about wanting to live a little more in what time he had - and they all but asked for Sam’s permission to go before leaving anyway.

Part of what makes it so ridiculous is how hard other parts of the episode were selling the contrived, fanfiction-borrowed Jack-is-their-smol-son thing. Again, this is something I know a lot of other people are actually into, but it really isn't working for me to the extent they're selling it. I’m not saying they don’t care about him, but he's not literally their kid. For one, he's not actually a child. For two, most of the time where he and the Winchesters were actually together, it was because they were afraid he'd go darkside. For three, a great chunk of the limited time he's been alive, he was in Apocaworld, not even with them. It's bad enough that literally everybody is totally family now after, like, an episode. It's bad enough Jack's personality is more often than not written as a beige blob of cutesy inoffensiveness. Compounding it with this whole oh noes, our actual child has mystical consumption? God, it's so contrived for the dramaz and so far as I'm concerned, tissue-paper thin if you take out all the fanfic and imagines posts written about it.

Then there's the part at the end where Dean apologizes for taking Jack out for the day because … fuck if I know? The reason Jack's worse at the end is because he was already dying and they tried some unknown spell thing from some sketchy contact Ketch knows, so if there's any guilt to be had there, which is dubious, it should be on trying some spell they know basically nothing about without trying to research it first. Like, it felt like Bucklemming suddenly decided they couldn't end the episode without Dean gratuitously feeling guilty for something because his only real emotions are guilt and anger, so here you go!

Finally, gosh, if death ever really meant anything on this show anymore, this ending would totally be sad and shit. As it is? Even if I wasn't spoiled for future events, the only thing I feel is: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Great job, guys. Keep up the good work!

#spn season 14 #spn 14x07 #writer incompetence #anti bucklemming #long post #negativity for ts

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