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Edvard's Supernatural Rewatch and Review: 1x16 Shadow

In my analysis of this episode, I will discuss Dean’s understated intelligence, the hunting life as a metaphor for trauma, a silly altar, Kripke’s bad treatment of his female characters, and Sam being a pissy bish.

Supernatural’s sixteenth offering is an outing directed by Kim Manners and written by Eric Kripke. It is rated 8.5/10 on IMDb based on over 5,300 votes. It is an important plot episode as we discover that the conflict between John and the Yellow-Eyed Demon is heating up and could have very lethal consequences for the Winchesters. The actual writing for this episode is spotty and does not do a good job of presenting the characters as the writer wants us to view them: Sam is supposed to be Mr Smart University Man who is good with research and good at hunting, whereas Dean is supposed to be the air-headed, womanising himbo kind of man Kripke seems to resent for some reason. What the writing does, however, is show us Sam being mostly useless but earns his keep on occasion, whereas Dean is the true mvp (‘most valued player’) of the episode.

Unfortunately for the aforementioned plot, the show takes a three-episode break from the overall story for the space of episodes 1x17-1x19. This thin spreading of plot is one of the things I disliked about the show when I first watched it almost 14 years ago, and it would still be an issue if I still watched Supernatural for the story. Which I do not: I watch it for Dean.

Whilst we are on the subject of Dean – which we were not – I want to address a problem I have with both Kripke’s writing of him AND the general fandom’s perception of him: his sexual exploits. I will discuss the latter first: The Show tells us time and time again that Dean engages in much coitus with a plethora of womenfolk. I repeat, The Show tells us this, but television is a visual media and one of the basic precepts of visual media is ‘show, don’t tell’. The Show can tell us whatever it pleases about Dean’s adventures in copulation, but what it tells us is not in keeping with what it shows us.

How many women has Dean actually been shown with in the show so far? Only one: Cassie, a woman he was ‘in love’ with a few years previously. Certainly he has been flirty with women, e.g Jess in 1x01 Pilot, Haley in 1x02 Wendigo, Amy Acker in 1x03 Dead in the Water, Layla in 1x12 Faith, but nothing actually happened with any of them. He was in the (men’s) toilets for a long time in 1x15 The Benders, but other than that, the next time I can assume he had sex with anybody is 2x18 Hollywood Blues when he did the horizontal tango with the actress in the caravan. After that, the twins (at least one of whom was presumably female) in 3x01 The Magnificent Seven, the barmaid in 4x05 Monster Movie, Anna in 4x10 Heaven and Hell, Lisa in the time he spent with her between the end of 5x22 Swan Song and roughly 6x05 Live free or Twi-Hard, and then maybe one woman every two years until series 12, whereafter… nothing. Not a single woman.

This does not mesh well with what we are supposed to believe. Of course we do not see all of the boys’ lives, but we do not see nearly enough of Dean’s sexual interactions with women (or men) to have any actual reason to think he is as promiscuous as we are told. Yes he is flirty, but there is very good reason to believe he had to learn to be flirty as a child in order to keep Sam fed when John was away. It could simply be that his flirty nature is one of the roles he steps into in order to help him get through different situations: he knows how to flirt with women, and can be comfortable when he adopts that persona. How often he actually goes through with that is another matter altogether, and what he actually thinks and feels about sex is up for debate. My thoughts are that he does not like it quite as much as he says he does, but perhaps puts on the act because John, Sam, and others expect or demand it of him. I refuse to discuss toxic masculinity, but John and Sam’s expectations and demands of Dean because he is a man are undoubtedly poisonous.

Kripke, however, wants us to believe Dean is a himbo, a man-slut, a f*ck-boy, and a man-shaped hormone. Why else would he put lines such as ‘do you mind doing a bit of thinking with your upstairs brain?’ into his self-insert Sam’s mouth and not have Dean answer back if he did not want us to think Dean is an air-headed scarlet woman? More on this later when I discuss Kripke and Sam both sounding like women who hate men.

I will return to the very beginning of the episode: the cold open was generally effective and successful with lovely cinematography, use of shadows, and atmospheric sound design. Meredith WAS a bit of an idiot walking down creepy alleys in the middle of the night by herself with earphones in. It was also rather weird how quickly her panic abated as soon as she locked the door and set the alarm in her flat. Paula R Stiles wasted no time in her review pointing out that Meredith should have turned all the lights in her flat on and kept them on all night if she were that scared, but instead she blithely toddles over to her answering machine and listens to her messages. Conveniently, the messages fall silent as soon as we see Meredith’s heart getting ripped out. Funny, that.

Actually, let’s backtrack a moment. I said we see Meredith’s heart getting ripped out. This as only half-true: since Meredith is not a man, we do not see violence enacted on her, we just see the shadow.

Exit Meredith and enter Dean and Sam on a street in downtown Vancouver Chicago. There are a few things I like about the following scene: number one is the adorable security alarm company boiler suit, as much as Dean hates it and having to pay for it. Dean makes it very clear the outfits are expensive and the money comes out of his hard-earnt money. Later in the show, such costumes are infrequent and the boys opt instead for simply posing as FBI agents most of time. More’s the pity, because my dopamine level shot through the roof seeing Dean playing dress up.

I also enjoyed the sassy landlady, short though her role was. But the most noteworthy part of the scene for me was Dean spotting the symbol in the blood on the carpet. Other than revealing that Dean is a closeted Evanescence fan, it showed both his impressive working knowledge of occult insignia and his ability to link things together and spot patterns. People both within and outwith the show are keen to call Dean stupid, but he is anything but. He is not educated, but he is highly intelligent and knows a lot about the world he and Sam are in which Sam does not. His ability to spot patterns is also another bit of evidence for Dean having Asperger’s.

Bear this in mind as I jump forwards to a little later in the episode when Dean finds the meaning of the symbol and tells Sam about it over the phone, only to be met with Sam’s surprise that Dean knows how to research. ‘Name the last book you read,’ is Mr Me Smart University Man’s response, delivered with a superior, arrogant grin on his face. Sam’s concept of intelligence seems to be reading books and academic success, and a person who does not read books cannot be intelligent.

Quite apart from the fact that history, science, and craft magazines exist which are exceedingly educational, academic success does not guarantee intelligence: it guarantees specialisation and expertise in one area. Dean has this without academic success: how many times over the course of the show does he rebuild the car after an accident? How much knowledge of the occult does he have which we only get to see fleeting glimpses of? And how much lore and mythology does he know by heart whilst Sam has to ferret through books and websites. Is there a single pop culture reference he does not get? And he does read: it is canonically acknowledged that he likes Kurt Vonnegut. He also seems the type to be a fan of Cormac Macarthy and Stephen King, but back to the point: shut your gob, Sam.

The misplaced arrogance is especially glaring and grating in this episode because Sam does not actually do much at all for the first two thirds of the episode. Kripke wants us to believe Sam is awesome and cool, but he does nothing useful in Meredith’s flat while Dean spots the pattern in the blood. Dean does the research while Sam sits in a car. Drop it, Sam.

And did I mention Dean’s home-made EMF reader? The one Sam mocked him for making in 1x04?

It would be remiss of me to ignore the fact Dean had a dig at Sam with his ‘drama dork’ comment at the beginning, but that actually came off as a sibling joke. A little puerile and immature, but not mean-spirited, unlike Sam’s two jibes at Dean in this episode. Even the difference in their reactions says a lot: Sam is utterly unperturbed by Dean’s joke, whereas Sam’s ‘Do you mind thinking with your upstairs brain?’ wiped the smile off Dean’s face and had him rushing to explain himself like a child fearing punishment.

Whilst on the subject – please bear with me, Dear Reader, I am almost done with my Sam-bashing – I would like you to cast your mind back a few minutes to the beginning of this analysis: Sam’s pissy comment about Dean’s sex drive sounded like exactly the kind of thing a woman who hates men would say. There was absolutely nothing about Dean’s behaviour in the scene suggesting he was only thinking about sex. Sam’s comment was an unnecessary escalation meant to shame. You might be wondering ‘how did you get that from one sentence?’ If so, please go and look at what I wrote about Sam’s pissy, controlling behaviour in 1x13-1x15 for some context, or take a look at the offence and resignation of Dean’s face in this episode after Sam says ‘Name the last book you read’.

Paula R Stiles and I are in complete agreement about Sam’s view of Dean: he is an embarrassment, an interruption in his life, an idiot, and a burden. This has been true since 1x01, and it will remain true until the end of the show.

By the way, apropos the bar scene: do we know which bartender’s number Dean got? We see him talking to a barmaid, but their conversation did not seem like they had got far enough to exchange numbers, and Dean left her as soon as he saw Sam enter the pub. Curious... Meg’s Chad Michael Murray line also seemed to interest Dean while Sam was clueless. The camera also cut away to Dean’s face for some reason. Curious...

As for ‘Dad’s friend Caleb’, Dean already has his number on his phone, so who is the Caleb whose number is written in the notebook under the information about the daevas? Curiouser and curiouser.

Mentioning Chad Michael Murray brings me to the next big point of this analysis: Meg. I have to admit I did not like Meg much at all when I first met her 14 years ago, and to this day this first incarnation of Meg simply does not do anything for me. A mix of the writing and acting choices make her feel like a Bad Ass BitchTM and it does not tickle my frusset pouch. She sounds arrogant and annoying. No wonder Sam liked her. The second incarnation of Meg is more to my liking.

‘Dude, cover your mouth!’ What an incredibly rude way to talk to a stranger who was clearly clearing his throat, not coughing. Note also that Sam does not speak up for Dean at any point during this exchange (like he did not call Missouri out for being a mega bish), nor offer a real apology for the things he said. Sam is the show’s POV at this point, and it stands to reason that what Meg said is supposed to be the viewer’s takeaway from the exchange. We are supposed to think Dean treats Sam badly in spite of what the show shows us. Sam’s lame ‘He means well’ only serves to underscore the fact Sam thinks Dean treats him badly, and he does nothing to challenge Meg’s views on their dynamic.

That being said, I noticed that Kripke wrote the only recurring female character so far as a mega bitch and I did not like it for several reasons. The first reason is that is sucks to bring in a character who differs from the main two only to write her as a mega bitch, as if we would not notice the only woman is being written as a bitch. The second reason is that nobody in their right mind would ever say the things she said to Dean at first meeting unless they was an extremely good reason to do so. This made her feel unrealistic and hard to take seriously.

The third reason was Dean’s face after the bitching and his words outside the pub afterwards. He was perfectly justified in being upset by what Sam said about him, but Sam just brushes it aside so he does not have to deal with it. Rather than ‘I made a mistake, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m sorry for bitching about you to strangers again’, he gives non-committal platitudes and lame reassurances that are as flimsy as something which is very flimsy. ‘Yes, yes, sorry, whatever, it’s not important, now let’s change the subject.’

In addition to the bitching, there is the fact that Sam was angry at Dean for telling Cassie about the hunting life in 1x13 Route 666, yet what Sam did was much worse and far stupider. He knew at that point that he was in danger and there would be ‘people’ following him, but he still could not help himself having a bitch about his idiot brother to the first person who would listen. Dean knew Cassie for a few weeks, but Sam knew Meg for all of a few hours before he starting spilling his secrets.

And the show wants us to think Dean is the stupid one.

One thing I did appreciate about Meg was the minimum amount of pontificating and snarky Bad Ass Bitch dialogue in the loft at the end. She did talk, but she was still doing stuff, even if the creepy rapey vibes of sitting in Sam and Dean’s laps while they were tied up was creepy and rapey. She is also serving somebody else and following somebody else’s orders, a fun-house mirror version of Dean.

The loft confused me for a long time, but before discussing that: Sam wants Dean to think Dean is stupid, and Sam clearly thinks he is smart. But please note, Dear Reader, that Sam followed Meg into the big scary building after a suspected murderer alone. That would have been the time to call Dean for back-up, but nope: Sam decides the prudent course of action is to climb up a lift shaft all by himself. Were you dropped on your head as a child, Sam?

Anyway, the thing which confused me about the loft was: why? Why did Meg have the altar in the loft rather than her home? It took until this evening when I was washing my hair and thinking of my analysis that I realise a few things: her flat was a small space with people above and below who would hear any loud noises going on there. That could cause problems for her plan, since she cannot have her daevas ripping people apart without the neighbours hearing. It would also be hard to lure Dean and Sam into a trap if she were not seen doing anything untoward such as entering a creepy building.

The black altar, by the way, looked like no effort had been put into it, and was taken directly from an emo-rock music video. Not that there is anything wrong with emo music: I am quite partial to a bit of My Chemical Romance on occasion. But you have to admit the altar looked cheesy.

Before continuing, I want to briefly outline something a friend recently explained to me: the hunting life as a metaphor for trauma, particularly generational trauma. People only enter the hunting life after a traumatic event such as the death of a friend or family member, or are raised into it by these same people. Normal people cannot see the world of monsters and demons, i.e. the life of a traumatised person, and when they get a glimpse of it, they run as fast as they can in the opposite direction. Normal people simply cannot handle it. The only people who can are those who have suffered the trauma of losing somebody, but most are doomed to die young and bloody.

Hunters are the only ones who can fight the monsters, but the more they fight, the greater the risk of getting hurt and the higher the likelihood of taking severe damage and dying. This works as a metaphor for facing trauma: if we ignore it, it might not get to us. Perhaps. We might even be able to live for decades with only infrequent encounters with monsters/trauma. Then again, we might not. Ignoring the problem is no guarantee of safety once we know the problem exists.

Even if we try to ignore the monsters/trauma, we might not ever even be able to fit back in with the normal people again. We know the other world is there, and that the normal world is simply a facade. It is always there trying to pull us back in, sometimes subtly, sometimes with a shepherd’s crook.

Dean was traumatised by the loss of his mother at the age of four, and after that John piled trauma upon trauma on him. ‘Hunting’ is the only life Dean knows, and the only place he believes he could ever fit. The normal world is a foreign place to him and his behaviour is too alien for normal people to understand. The world of monsters and hunters terrifies normal people, and they are quick to reject hunters and their ilk because they are too scary, just like the behaviour of traumatised people is often scary, uncomfortable, and difficult for people who do not understand. Even other hunters struggle to get Dean because each hunter’s experience is individual.

Sam was too young to be effected directly by Mary’s death in the way Dean was, but it drew him into the hunters’ world all the same. However, he was shielded from the brunt of the trauma in a way Dean simply was not: Dean was exposed to all the horror, whereas Sam was kept in the dark. John’s neglect had a serious negative impact on him, but it was mostly second hand. Dean was the buffer between Sam and the horrors of the hunters’ life, which is one reason why he was able to rebel and leave for university: he believed there was a way out, and he took it.

With this in mind, a discussion of the scene in the hotel room before Dean and Sam go to the loft is in order. The trauma of Jess’s death drew him back into hunting, but he still believes there will be an end to it one day and that he will be able to return to his old life. He believes that killing Azazel will be the end of his hunting life, i.e. that the worst of his grief will be over. Dean, however, believes it will never be over because he knows nothing else than hunting and has never been allowed to be anything else.

‘Dude, what’s your problem?’ - I forget that Dean’s mask is so well fitted that other people struggle to see past it, or even that it’s a mask at all. I honestly cannot be angry at Sam for not seeing this because he just does not understand why Dean is so upset, no matter how clear it is to me.

On the other hand, I do not understand how Sam can think it would be okay to abandon Dean. Dean is not Sam’s responsibility, true, but human relationships are not founded on only doing things because they are responsibilities. We do things because we want to help the people we care about, not because it is our duty to do so. Although perhaps this is more evidence to prove that Sam does not really care about Dean unless he is losing him.

I think this scene also shows that – in spite of fandom consensus – Sam is really not very good at all with reading other people’s emotions motivations or emotions. Given Dean’s emotional state when Sam announced his intent to leave him, the only reason Dean could have asked the question ‘Why do you think I cam to get you at Stanford, huh?’ is because he wanted to underline the fact he went to get Sam because he wanted Sam’s help, and he wanted to be with Sam again (Winc*sties, leave it!) and get his family back together. That is blindingly obvious to me, but I have had to learn to read people’s motivations and to actively interpret and understand them. Sam, apparently, is clueless here, whereas Dean is much more in tune with his thoughts and feelings. I have touched on this before, so constant readers should know this.

That said, the reason for Sam joining Dean was not to find John, or even to help Dean. It was to get his revenge on Jess’s killer. He did choose to join Dean, but only due to a lack of better options. Nobody else he knew could help him. However, one of the reasons Sam’s relationship with Dean is so strained is that he associates Dean very strongly with John. In fact, rather than seeing Dean as an individual with his own thoughts, feelings, and ideas, he regards him as simply an extension of John’s will. Sam finally managed to escape John, but is now forced to ally himself with Dean, whom he resents through no fault of Dean’s own.

Dean’s presence reminds him of John and the disastrous experience of growing up with John. I have said before that Dean bore the brunt of John’s abuse and Sam seems blissfully unaware of the majority of what his elder brother suffered, yet Sam clearly has his own issues that make it hard for him to be around his family. He wants to separate himself from John in order to heal and move on: the corollary of that is he wants to cut Dean out of his life because of his association with John. From Sam’s perspective, this is understandable, whether he knows this is what he is doing or not.

Dean knows much better than Sam that their life as a family was far from perfect, but he has nothing else. John made family the core of Dean’s identity, and he is utterly lost and hollow without it. Sam, however, sees Dean’s invitation as a trap. It would cut him off from the life he wants to live and doom him to a life like Dean’s. This is perfectly understandable, but Sam comes off as callous and patronising. He says things he thinks Dean wants to hear in order to take the edge off his words, but the actual substance of what he says sounds like ‘I have my own life to lead, sorry.’

The result, though, is that he comes off as callous and patronising. He says things he thinks Dean wants to hear in order to take the edge off his words, but the actual substance of what he says sounds like ‘I have my own life to lead, sorry.’

So what is Dean supposed to do? He has no life to ever go back to, and is instead doomed to be John’s tool for the rest of John’s life. Screw him, though, am I right? Let’s just abandon the traumatised man to deal with his trauma in an environment which makes it impossible to recover from trauma.

Paula R. Stiles’s thoughts run parallel to mine here, and I quote: ‘Dean gets upset. He wants his family together again and since he has no life outside of hunting, can’t conceive of it all ending. Sam rather coldly tells him that he has no intention of hunting forever and wants a “normal life”, of which Dean can’t really be a part (since, it’s implied, but not said, that Dean is not normal and deserves to be abandoned to his fate, much like the MOTWs he hunts). O the irony.

And this comes after Dean left John yet another unanswered voice mail. I know he claims to hate chick flick moments, but Dean needs a hug, a mug of hot chocolate, and a tartan blanket here.

And yes, it is time for that part of my analysis again: Jensen’s acting, Dear Reader! Dear Reader, Jensen’s acting!

Sam: ..things will never be the way they were before. Dean: Could be.

The subtlety, his facial expression, his nervous smiles-which-are-not-smiles, the tears in his eyes. Dean here knows he has no possible argument to make to convince Sam. He knows Sam does not really care about him nor want to spend any more time with him than necessary. 'Could be...'

Dean's rejection sensitive dysphoria is on full display in this scene, and this moment here shows the heart of his abandonment anxiety: he believes he is worthless and unlovable. And his final look after Sam says Dean will have to let him go his own way: at first it looked like anger, but after I took a second I saw somebody straining to keep as much of himself hidden and controlled as possible.

I feel exactly what he is feeling, and I cannot begin to understand how people miss this stuff. If only, if only he could have been cast as the lead in a show with better writers and a better budget.

Apropos John, when Dean told Meg that John would not walk into her trap, one’s mind is drawn back to when Dean was dying in 1x12 Faith and John did not come to see him or save him, nor even return his phone calls. One is also reminded of 1x09 Home when John did not answer Dean’s call about the ghost in the house Mary died in. The underlying implication here is perhaps that Dean believes John will not try to save him. Remember that when rewatching 1x12 Faith.

After the daevas yeet Meg out of the window (and there will be consequences for that), Dean and Sam return to their room to find Daddy Winchester lurking in the dark. How exactly he managed to find them is not explained: episode 2x07 The Usual Suspects informs us Dean and Sam have a practice whereby when separated they look for the first hotel in the directory and always take a certain room. Whether this is a code of conduct Dean and Sam have been following ever since in order to allow John to locate them if need be I do not know. At this point, I would not put it past John to have known exactly where Dean and Sam have been for a very long time, and to even have been in the vicinity many times, but has refused to let them see him, or even know he is near. Shady, shady behaviour.

As for the reunion scene itself, it clearly shows where we are supposed to focus our interest. Dean and John’s reunion is distant, shallow, unemotional, in spite of Dean willingly embracing John instead of drop-kicking him out the window as he deserves. They hug, but little dialogue of any variety passes between them, nor anything of substance. I see a beaten little boy hugging the dad who beats him hoping it will never happen again if he can just be better, but The show does nothing with this. It is glazed over.

Instead, it is Sam who gets the apology, the catharsis, and the heartfelt reunion. Given it is the first time Sam and John have properly spoken for years, it is also the first time in a significant length of time Dean and John have seen each other for the best part of a year, if not more at this point. Sam might believe Dean is John’s favourite, but how he can persist in this false belief is quite beyond me: Sam is clearly the favourite son. Dean loves (and hates) John, but I do not think John loves Dean: he is simply a useful tool to be taken for granted.

This reminds me of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Sam is the son who left and squandered all his money on wine and women, only to be welcomed back by his father who orders for celebrations to be held. The faithful son, however, who had laboured in his father’s fields all day, every day for years without such parties is understandably aggrieved by this, but his complaint is dismissed by his father: All that is mine is yours, etc. The parable tells us the father has treated the faithful son well, but the story is from the father’s perspective. Who knows how he actually treated his faithful son? Forget moral messages. The faithful son had every right to be pissed off after all the years of work he had put in, only for his wayward brother to be given the red carpet treatment.

Sam is the prodigal son, and Dean the faithful son. I cannot wait for John’s comeuppance, but at the same time Dean’s reaction was completely in character. Most of the wounds John inflicted on Dean’s psyche are yet to be revealed, and will continue to exact their toll over the next 311 episodes of the show, but knowing what I know, I both sympathise with Dean’s relief to see John again, and want Dean to be free of John forever. That is the only way he can be free of the man John wanted him to be, and free to be the Dean he wants to be.

While John hugged Prodigal Sam, Dean stood in the background watching. The camera even does a focus pull so that Dean is in focus and Sam and John are blurred. Dean has something like a smile on his face, happy to see his brother and father together again, but almost wistful, sad.

Luckily, the huggy pukefest is swiftly broken as the daevas yeet John into the kitchenette and proceed to eviscerate him. A quick cut away to outside the building reveals Meg alive and well, controlling the daevas with her amulet, then the camera is back on John. I was disappointed I did not get to see John torn apart. Note they focus on him, not all three: Dean is knocked around a little but Sam is ignored.

In spite of his quick thinking in using the flare (where exactly he learnt that light would cause them to dissipate is never revealed. Gary Stu Sam to the rescue!), Sam does the silly television thing where he tells the audience what he is going to do before he does it. This breaks my suspension of disbelief because it gives the daevas a moment to react and stop Sam doing whatever it is he is going to do. I think exactly the same every time a character sneaks up behind a monster or bad person and says something to get his/her attention rather than just shooting/stabbing him/her in the back before s/he realises what hit him/her.

The episode ends with John leaving Dean and Sam at dean’s insistence – ‘to protect him’ because John is in danger as long as he is around his sons. He is also in danger by himself, and surely three of them together would be better able to hide and fight off enemies, but whatever. Eric Kripke logic, I suppose. Why on Earth John was there in the first place if he knew his presence puts his sons in danger is beyond my ken, but I am quite sure Kripke thought it would be dramatic and cool. The man has some good ideas, but his execution is poor.

While on the subject of Kripke, earlier I discussed his bad treatment of women, but he also treats men badly in his shows. Women are fridged in one way or another too often (although in fairness hatred from female fans does not help), but almost all violence is against men. This is also true of his current project The Boys. To be honest, I got sick and tired of the show about half way through series two, and only kept watching for Jensen and Soldier Boy. What soured me against the show was the excessively graphic violence against almost exclusively men, with at least two instances of on-screen sexualised violence against men ending in graphic, bloody, painful death.

The violence, blood, and guts itself did not bother me, so let me put it this way: women complain about women being nude on screen more than men, but we see much, much more of men’s blood and gory inside bits than women’s. Women complain that female nudity objectifies them, but by the same logic the ubiquitous nature of violence directed almost exclusively at men deadens people to violence against men. The show is supposed to be liberal and progressive, but it seems rather regressive in its squeamishness to depict violence against women – especially not if a man is the perpetrator – and its treatment of men as cannon fodder.

It is also regressive in its treatment of gay/bi men. The first 15 minutes of The Boys 3x01 introduce two of perhaps three gay/bi men who have been acknowledged as gay/bi on the show, only for them to engage in weird, drug-fuelled sex and for one of them to die a horrible, bloody, sex-related on-screen death. Well done, Kripke, very well done. That is a perfect example of Bury Your Gays. “Look, we have gay sex on our show, aren’t we liberal, progressive, and inclusive! Psyche, now they’re dead. Screw you, gays.” I was supposed to laugh, I presume. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and wished I were watching Dark Angel instead.

Wait, Dark Angel – in spite of its good qualities – has the occasional noxious undertone of violence-against-men-is-funny-when-women-do-it-because-girl-power-or-something. Such violence includes Max hitting Alec across the head because she was in a bad mood, slamming Alec’s fingers in a locker door for no particular reason, and a kick to the genitals because Alec used a milquetoast slur, the only appropriate response to which was physical violence. ...and possible permanent damage. And possible infertility. Possible severe bleeding. Serious stomach pains… but all of this is funny, remember, because haha men’s genitals. She laughed as Alec was led past, clearly in too much pain to walk under his own steam, then she laughed and got told how she was a ‘rocking, awesome chick’. I swear by Allah’s beard, sometimes I just...

Anyway, that essay is available right here.

Returning to The Boys,the show has gay/bi women and it touched briefly on bi erasure, but this feels like a cover for shitty treatment of gay/bi men. Kripke also regretted not being able to include the Homelander raping Soldier Boy plot from the source material, because – and I paraphrase – it would have been funny to see the two fuck.

While Kripke's a Fan of the Homelander/Soldier Boy Sex Scene in the Comics, It Won't Work Here: "I love that scene and it's hilarious, but for a dozen reasons, all of which will be revealed when you see the season, it ultimately just didn't track. We talked about it. It conflicted with a lot of the other things we were trying to build with Soldier Boy. So, unfortunately, that one had to go," Kripke explained. "I would love to see Soldier Boy and Homelander f***ing, but it can't happen in this show, unfortunately, for reasons everyone understands."

Source: (x)

You read that right: Kripke described Homelander raping Soldier Boy as ‘fucking’, and he thought it was hilarious. And this guy is going to try using Soldier Boy to preach to me about how masculinity is toxic. For some reasons I am reminded of a badly-translated Biblical metaphor about motes of dust and planks in eyes. Bismillah, spare me...

And I just swore in one of my analyses. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound: shit bugger fanny bum fart.

This is supposed to be high-quality, intelligent television, but it is just spectacle and shock covering up an above-average-but-not-fantastic story and plot. Excessive gore and swearing does not make a show good: it just means the show has excessive gore and swearing. While I am very happy for Jensen to finally be on something bigger than Supernatural, I think this is beneath him. Soldier Boy is my favourite homophobic douche in the whole wide world, but Jensen deserves better. Lord of the Rings better.

On that note, I come to the end of my analysis of 1x16 Shadow. It was never a favourite episode and it feels as though something is missing. It is unsatisfying to have a mytharc episode in between so many monster of the week episodes because the build up to it has been non-existent and it will be a while yet before it has any real relevance to the plot again. It is certainly no bad episode, but I just do not care much for it, in spite of the purple plaid Dean was wearing.

That about does it for this time. Next time will be 1x17 Hell House, so look out for that. I bet you won’t.

Thank you to @emotionalsupportbees for the metaphor of hunting as trauma =)

#edvard's supernatural rewatch #spn rewatch #spn meta #spn 1x16 #supernatural #1x16 shadow #dean #sam winchester #bi!dean #Aspie!Dean #john f*cking winchester

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 3 years

Text

after the credits

to thirteen years of cas and of the greatest love story ever told...an empty rescue fic for y’all :) 2.3k, read on ao3 here

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

After a while, Castiel gets tired of watching. He’s practically dreaming all the time, but he’s so tired.

Eternal sleep is not restful.

He can’t leave the Empty, but he manages to mold it, with his mind, into a theater. He went to one once, with Dean, and there are probably nicer theaters, like those for plays and operas, but this movie theater is right for him. If he concentrates, he can almost smell burnt, buttery popcorn and spilled soda and old carpet, and Dean right next to him, aftershave and car oil and whiskey.

Almost.

The scenes unfold in a memorable order, because they’re Cas’s own memories. At first, he tried to jump in, alter the scene, but he’s powerless. So, like clockwork, he watches. He’s saving Dean in hell. He’s being stabbed in the chest by the same man he raised. He’s asking Dean to get answers from Alastair and then almost getting the grace pressed out of him. He’s slamming his palm onto a bloody sigil. He’s--

Everything, all of his twelve years on earth, pass by, over and over and over again.

Right now, it’s an early scene, not far into the cycle. It’s not one of his favorites, because he can see the expression on his face, remembers exactly how he felt. Remembers that he he was feeling at all.

“That was a pretty awkward kiss, huh?”

Cas turns sharply at the sound of Dean’s voice. Of course, Dean does talk in this scene, before he kisses Anna. But this Dean is sitting next to him, frowning at the screen.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Cas says.

“I know.”

Chances are this is just the Empty trying to mess with him. Last week a random trashcan showed up in his theater. Or maybe it was last year, or a millenia ago, or five minutes from now. Time is weird.

They keep watching in silence. On the screen, in the memory, Cas’s head jerks away from the sight of Dean and Anna kissing. The scene flips then, to a park at night, Anna right in front of Cas, no Dean in sight.

“For the first time, I feel...” Memory-Cas says.

“It gets worse,” Anna warns.

“So your first feeling….” Dean starts.

“It was something.” Cas can’t look at him. The scene on-screen changes.

Dean, to his merit, doesn’t press.

The memories progress through the year they spent trying to stop the apocalypse, the year that ended with Sam diving into the pit and Dean going off to Lisa’s. Then through Cas starting to work with Crowley, a conversation that happened right behind Dean without his knowledge.

On-screen, Cas is watching Dean rake leaves. The expression on his face is nearly mournful. After a moment, Crowley steps into view.

“Ah, Castiel. Angel of Thursday. Just not your day, is it?” Crowley says.

“What are you doing here?” Memory-Cas asks.

“I want you to help me help ourselves.”

“Speak plain.”

Crowley smirks. “I want to discuss a simple business transaction. That’s all.”

“You want to make a deal? With me? I’m an Angel, you ass. ”

The scene flips again.

“Is there a way to pause this?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “It just does this, on a loop. I can’t sleep. The Empty won’t let me.” He puts a hand on the armrest between them. “I forced the theater up, to make it better.”

“It looks a lot like that theater we went to once.”

“I know.” Cas stares at Dean for a moment, looks away.

Many of these scenes are things Dean knows of. Cas works with Crowley, gets locked in a ring of fire, feels his chest seize up as Dean looks back for a moment. Watches the Leviathans lead him to a lake. They meet again on porch steps, Cas unable to remember who he is but still able to figure out that Dean is important. Cas gets his memories back, takes on Sam’s hell trauma. They go to Purgatory, Cas stays behind. It’s like clockwork.

Until.

“I don’t remember that,” Dean says slowly, watching himself die on the screen. “You never--you’ve never killed me.”

“Yes and no.” Cas knows what’s coming next--he’s going to kill Dean thousands of times. Each one is the same, with Cas in tears as these copies, mock-ups of Dean struggle, beg and plead, tell him not to. Each time, Naomi makes him do it again.

Until, finally, he doesn’t hesitate.

And she says he’s ready.

As they watch that scene in the crypt unfold, with the real Dean at Cas’s mercy, Dean leans forward, putting his elbows on his thighs and propping his chin in his hands. “You lied.”

“Hm?”

“You said you didn’t know what broke the connection.” Dean twists his head to look at Cas. “But you did.”

“I did,” Cas assents.

They watch Cas ride cross-country on a bus, pulling out his phone and almost calling Dean over and over again.

“Is there a way that we can see some of my memories?” Dean asks.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”.

Dean shrugs. “Well, I am here, and you figured out how to make a friggin movie theater, so I think I can do it.”

The image on the screen shudders, coalesces, breaks into a million pieces and then reforms. Dean is standing on the edge of a lake, picking up Cas’s coat, still covered in Leviathan goo. “You dumb son of a bitch,” Memory-Dean mutters, wrapping up the coat in his arms.

The scene flickers again--the coat in those same hands, moving from car to car to car, and then being passed to Cas. “I always knew you’d come back ,” Memory-Dean says. It’s a soft scene, almost, but then it flips to Dean seizing a monster’s collar in purgatory. He’s covered in blood and grime as he shoves the monster up against a tree, practically growling, “Where’s the angel?”

Even after the monster answers, Dean guts him.

It’s a cycle. The memory blurs through sleepless nights, through Dean stepping into streams to pray, prayers Cas knows well. It pushes past Cas letting go of Dean’s arm in the portal, and here’s something else new: Dean sees Cas on the side of the road, sees him outside the window while it pours down rain, sitting bolt upright at the phantom sight of Cas’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cas finally asks. This must really be Dean, after all. The Empty wouldn’t know these things, wouldn’t be able to dream them up. They’re too good, too honest.

“To bring you home.” Dean kicks the back of the seat in front of him, leans back in his own chair.

“I can’t go home.”

“You should.” The scene on screen rapidly changes--it’s Dean as he looks now, carrying a little boy on his back. The little boy is blonde, round-faced, holding onto Dean’s neck for dear life, laughing as Dean swings around.

“Is that--” No, it can’t be.

“Yep. He’s four, you know.” Dean clears his throat. “He misses you.”

“I wish I could have gotten to say good-bye.” Cas trails off.

“Come home. Then you never have to say it.”

Cas shakes his head. On the screen, Dean is reading to Jack, Jack following the words with a chubby finger. “It would be...awkward.”

“How?” Dean raises an eyebrow. “We’re family, dude. Jack misses you, Sam misses you, and Eileen’s been hanging around, and me…” Dean clamps his mouth shut.

That’s why.

“Things aren’t going to be the same. Not after…” Cas takes a deep breath. “What I said. We won’t be able to ignore it.”

“Then we won’t.”

“Dean--”

“You don’t know?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “You don’t know. Okay. I, uh…” The screen turns black.

“You what?” Cas is almost afraid to know.

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

The blackness unfurls into Billie’s library, Dean standing in front of her. They’re clearly in the middle of a conversation.

“What do you want me to say?” Memory-Dean asks. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. ”

“Don’t you?” Billie replies.

“I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.”

“Dean--” Cas starts, but Dean just looks at the floor, like he’s trying to avoid this.

“You really believe that,” Billie says. “You wanna die.”

“When was this?” Cas asks, speaking over the rest of Billie’s statement.

“It was...right before we, uh, got the call from you. That you were back.” Dean leans his head all the way up, looks at what would be the movie theater’s ceiling, if it wasn’t in the void. “I had a bad time. I…I would show it to you. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I held it together enough to wrap your body and burn it…”

“Hunter’s funeral.”

“Only kind I know how to do.” Dean swallows, audibly. “I’m doing what I can now. Having Jack to take care of, and Eileen around, too, helps. But it’s…” He finally looks at Cas again. “Please let me take you home. Please come home with me.”

Cas would do anything for Dean Winchester. He has done anything for him before. So he will grant him this, at least the illusion, because Cas knows he can’t leave the Empty. He’s trapped here for eternity.

He takes Dean’s hand.

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

There is a little boy crawling on him.

“Daddy,” the boy says, poking his face, “I know you’re awake.”

“Jack,” Dean says, from somewhere up above, “Cas is still sleeping.”

Cas blinks rapidly. “‘M not.”

“Shouldn’t’ve said that.” Dean releases Jack, and Jack fully clambers onto Cas.

“I missed you,” Jack says.

“I missed you too.” Cas holds onto him, tight. He’s so small, like he’s supposed to be. A kid. Safe.

Cas thinks he might be in Dean’s bed.

The bunker, he discovers, looks much the same. He was gone for four months, in which time Dean and Sam took care of Chuck, Jack became a kid, and Eileen became a permanent fixture. When Dean and Sam aren’t looking, she signs to Cas, “He already looks better.”

“Who, Dean?” Cas signs back.

Eileen nods. “He had a pretty bad time.”

Dean turns around then, and Eileen presses a finger to her lips.

There’s not a quiet moment for the rest of the day. Sam explains what happened--”You might be human now,” he says, and Cas replies, “I’m not tired yet.”--and Jack wants Cas to read to him and play Barbies and racecars and puppets (apparently Dean built Jack’s little puppet theater, which--).

After dinner (spaghetti and meatballs, and Dean has a Coke instead of beer, Cas notices), everyone goes off to bed, and Cas realizes he is tired, which is something to think about.

He starts to head to the room he typically stays in, but Dean seizes the top of his arm. “Nope, you’re coming with me.” Dean drags Cas down the hall towards his room.

Cas hadn’t gotten a good luck at it earlier, what with Jack climbing all over him, but he sees it now. Dean’s bed unmade, scraps of random paper littered across the dresser, a picture Cas recognizes because he and Dean are wearing cowboy hats, and now he knows how Dean was really doing right before that case in Dodge City--

There’s also a dent in the wall. That’s new.

Dean follows Cas’s gaze. “I chucked a whiskey bottle at it. Sam took the rest of my stash the next day.” Dean steps over, brushing the drywall’s cracks with his fingers. “I didn’t fix it up so I wouldn’t forget.”

I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.

“Dean,” Cas says, “Tell me in words.”

“What?” Dean turns away from the wall. “Tell you what?”

“You know.”

Dean swallows, licks his lips. “I’d say don’t ever do that again on the whole dying thing, but I said that to you once and you didn’t listen. And maybe if I say it the right way now, you’ll stay, but…” Dean slumps, sits on the bed. “You can’t leave again.”

Cas touches the wall himself before sitting next to Dean on the bed. “I’m not going to.” He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch Dean.

Dean touches him instead, leaning into Cas, finding one of Cas’s hands, holding it tight. He’s crying, Cas realizes. “I love you,” Dean says into their joined hands, then his chest wracks with a sob. “I was always so sure that if--” another sob, “If I said it, you’d leave. Get taken away from me.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Cas repeats.

He isn’t sure how long they sit like that, but Dean finally straightens up, lets go of Cas’s hand, wipes his eyes with the back of his own. “Pajamas,” Dean says, standing and crossing to the dresser. “We gotta get you some of your own, but…” He digs a pair of sweats out of the drawer and tosses them to Cas. “These’ll do for tonight.”

Cas doesn’t ask if he can stay. Dean doesn’t ask him to leave.

With the lights out, it’s pitch black, almost as inky as the Empty, but Cas can hear Dean breathing, so close to him. The bed is almost too small for both of them, so they’re nearly chest-to-chest. Hardly ever have they been this close. Never did Cas dare to dream it.

In the dark, under the covers, the world outside of this room, Dean kisses him. It’s flat, soft, a brush of lips, the barest ghost, but it’s enough. More than enough.

Cas is home.

#offbeatwrites #it's DEANCASAVERSARY #IT'S CAS DAY #IT'S CAS'S BIRTHDAY #it's also one of my best friend's birthdays she has the best birthday huh #anyways I don't really know where this fic came from I just went hey. what if cas hadmovie theater #and I LOVEEEEE the trope of them showing each other their memories. there was so much stuff that if they'd just TALKED about it..........#god.#anyways! enjoy :)#also yeah minor similarities to a drabble I wrote this summer #that was very much an accident but I think they're different enough

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waywardrose13 · 3 years

Text

Crimson Leaves- Chapter Seven: Calm Before the Storm

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Crimson Leaves- Zombie Apocalypse AU series

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The dead have risen. Amid a global pandemic that causes the dead to prowl the Earth, a leader of a small camp in North Carolina fights for survival. Y/N Y/L/N was certain of three things: One, only a bite would turn you. Two, the brain must be destroyed in order to completely kill the thing. Three, trust no one. When a stranger is brought to her camp half alive, Y/N must make the decision to throw him to the walkers, or let the mystery man heal within the gates. As Dean Winchester recovers from a zombie attack, he worms his way into the camp, and eventually into Y/N’s heart. Love is a dangerous game, especially when it’s played with the dead.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, language, some fluff, *Graphic depictions of gore and murder*, implied cannibalism, death

Bingo squares: None for this chapter

A/N- This chapter was commissioned! Thank you to the beautiful individual who motivated me to write this chapter. This one is for you:)

<<Chapter Six

“Seriously?”

Y/n’s heart nearly leaped from her chest. She cursed under her breath and turned slowly to face him. Smiling sheepishly, she tried to ignore the flutters of butterflies in her chest at the sight of Dean: arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. Why was an angry Dean turning her on? And why was she letting it?

“Hey, Dean,” she said. She sent him her most innocent smile, which was not reciprocated in the slightest. “Why are you up so early?”

“Because I’m a light sleeper and I heard you leave,” he replied. “Haven’t you learned from last time? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I have a list,” she said, shrugging. “People need these items and the runners can’t get them.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re personal items that people trust me with,” she said. “I have to go.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m amazing.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“I’m endearing.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. “Okay, well I’m coming with you.”

“Dean-”

“Not up for discussion. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if you were alone last time. I’m coming with you.” Dean gripped her chin and planted a quick kiss on her lips before stepping around her to open the gate. “Come on, you.”

Y/n’s lip quirked into a small smile. She slipped through the gate, Dean right behind her. “Ladies first” he had said the first time they left on a run together. She hadn’t taken it, of course. He had sauntered through the gates when she scowled at him. But now, she brushed a hand over his bicep as she passed, giving him a sly grin that he sent right back as she walked through the gates. He latched it back up and followed Y/n down the marked path before he reached out silently to intertwine his fingers with hers. She sent him a shy smile and squeezed his hand.

The sun hadn’t risen quite yet. The hints of a rosy pink bled through the trees from atop the mountain. The sunrise over the mountain-top was gorgeous. A perk of being on the east coast.

The two settled into a comfortable silence. The birds began to wake, their melodious songs echoing off the trees, creating a calming morning atmosphere. It wasn’t very humid, and the temperature wasn’t too high, so the air was comfortable, a soft wind blowing atop the mountain. With mornings like these, it’s hard to think of the death and destruction happening on Earth right now. These moments of tranquility were cherished by Y/n. She knew it couldn’t last, but she liked to pretend.

They arrived at the Jeep in no time. Dean offered to drive, and Y/n reluctantly let him. She knew the roads better, but she was still tired, so she conceded.

“We aren’t going into Brevard today,” she said. “When you get to the fork, take a left instead.”

“Copy that,” Dean said.

They drove in silence for the most part, one of Dean’s hands still laced with one of Y/n’s. Y/n huffed a small laugh at the thought of the last time they were outside the walls of the camp on a run. How she had been so annoyed and pissy with him. How he had called her a grade-A bitch.

Now, their hands were laced and her skin was abuzz with the feel of him. That attraction and that feeling had been there, hidden beneath denial and anger and self hatred. But Dean had set that feeling free. He had nudged open the door to her heart and let those feelings loose.

And it scared the fuck out of her.

She knew she wasn’t easy to be around. She knew she wasn’t easy to love. She knew that before the apocalypse. She had always had a temper. She was always a bit odd. She had been through some shit in her life that molded her into someone who locked away her trust and lashed out when she was hurt.

It’s not like she wanted to be this way. A build up of unresolved trauma, the dismissal of her own feelings, and not knowing how to express her emotions in a healthy way led to it.

So, no. She wasn’t easy to be around. It’s why most people in her life left. Even her own family had a hard time dealing with her sometimes.

“You make us all miserable.”

It was so long ago, she couldn’t remember if it was one of her siblings or parents, but those words had stuck with her for a long time. And it stung, even after all these years. She wished she could fix it. She had always wanted to be loved despite her flaws.

She knew Dean didn’t love her. She knew the capability of someone loving her was low. But he cared for her. And he shared her affections.

She just hoped she didn’t scare him off.

The general store was nestled in yet another small town at the bottom of the mountain. The runners didn’t know about it. They traveled mostly west or to Brevard. But Y/n had come to the small town on a few occasions. It was one of the last untouched towns. Long abandoned, it wasn’t on many maps, and the general store still had many valuables to spare.

“What are we looking for?” Dean asked as they stepped inside. He closed the door softly behind him and locked it. The store was dark and full of cobwebs, dust, and leaves, but the shelves were still intact and covered in items. They weren’t full, but they had enough.

Y/n read over her list for the tenth time. “Some enemas, condoms, and hemorrhoid cream.”

Dean stared at her. “Personal. Right.”

“Told you,” she said, setting off into the isles. “Not everyone trusts all the runners. As their leader, most people entrust the more personal items with me. I think they know if they asked the runners for stuff like this, stuff that doesn’t benefit the camp as a whole, the runners would ignore it.”

“You’re a good leader, Y/n.”

Her skin warmed at his pride. “Thank you.”

They searched the store for the items, finding them all as well as a few more packs of batteries, lighter fluid, and a half empty tank of gas in the back. They poured the gas into the Jeep’s tank, stuffed all of the items into Y/n’s backpack, and climbed back into the car.

***

“That went by much more smoothly than our last outing.”

Y/n whistled and nodded, slumping down onto her couch when they got back to her cabin. They had dropped the items off at the respectable tents, dumped the batteries off at the nerve center, passed the lighter fluid off to the kitchens, and returned to Y/n’s cabin before their daily duties.

“I would say so,” she said, reaching a hand up for Dean to grab. He grinned and took it, sinking down onto the couch beside her and lifting her up into his lap. She laid her head in the crook of his neck, his hands resting on her waist and knee.

“What do you have planned today, Lord Commander?” Dean asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I’m stuck at the nerve center today. I have some role change requests and Luke and I are drafting a plan for some cabin construction.”

“Really?” Dean asked.

“Yep. We’re growing rapidly. We’re thinking about some bunk houses, that way people don’t always have to stay in tents. There’s a man who worked construction who’s currently over in security, but he said he’d direct the building efforts.”

“That would be a lot of work,” Dean said. He peered down at her. “Where would the materials come from?”

“It would be mostly wood. Maybe some clay to help keep the logs together. But if we build a sturdy enough structure and use some of the tarps over the roofs to keep the rain from pouring in, I think we could build decent log houses. They wouldn’t be perfect, but the tents are filling up and we’re running out.”

Dean nodded at her words and squeezed her hip. “Not a bad idea.”

“Of course it isn’t. I came up with it.”

Dean chuckled. “So modest.”

She looked up at him, their eyes locking for a moment before Dean bent down to plant a chaste kiss to her lips.

Y/n didn’t think she would ever get used to Dean kissing her. Every time he did, she felt as if she was swept up into a new dance amongst the stars, or as if she was soaring up into the sky. Every touch sent her skin aflame and every kiss left her breathless in the best way. He was her drug, and the more of him she got, the more of him she craved.

He lifted her and laid her back on the couch, his hands warm on her hips as he held her down, skimming them up her sides. She arched into his touch and kissed him feverishly, wrapping her legs around his waist to rub against him. Groaning, he broke away from her to duck into her neck, kissing the skin there.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped as she grinded against him.

“Yes?” She asked sweetly.

“Keep doing that, and I won’t be able to hold back,” he said. She knew that wasn’t true. If she told him to leave and never come back, he’d respect her wishes. But his words still sent heat slithering to her core.

“Who’s asking you to?”

Dean growled and nipped her earlobe. “I don’t want your first time to be us rutting against each other on your couch like a couple teenagers.” He bucked his hips into hers, though, making her gasp. “When we fuck, we’re going to do it right.”

When.

“So sure of yourself, aren’t you?” She asked.

Dean pulled back to look her straight in the eye. “Very.”

And he kissed her again.

This time, he pulled her up to his chest, keeping her legs locked around his, and stood. How he did that so gracefully with her wrapped around him like a koala, she didn’t know. But he carried her across the room and to her bed, where he broke apart and set her down gently.

And took a step back.

Dean laughed as Y/n sagged with a pout. She looked up at him through her lashes and reached for him again.

“You’re cruel. Come here.”

“I told you, I won't do this now.”

“You said not on the couch,” she pointed out. She snapped her fingers. “Come back now.”

Dean grinned and clasped the sides of her head, bending to give her one last gentle kiss.

“I thought you weren’t ready.”

Y/n thought for a moment. Twenty-three years of sexual frustration had built, and he was right in front of her, willing to be her outlet. And in the moment, she was definitely ready. But taking a step back…

“We don’t have to do it now. Just come lie with me.”

“I need to shower,” Dean said. He shifted uncomfortably and Y/n’s eyes flashed down to where his jeans were definitely straining against his crotch. She smirked and looked up at him again.

“Naughty boy.”

“It’s your fault, Lord Commander.” He pointed at her and shot her a wink. “Your fault.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and Y/n laughed. A warmth had spread over her chest and seeped into the deepest parts of her heart. That hole that had formed inside her, the one that had concaved in on itself when she lost her family and sunk into a survival mode that changed her and tore her very being apart, had begun to fill.

And she had Dean to thank for that.

She wasn’t in love. Of course, she wasn’t sure what love really was. But she felt herself falling. She knew she was falling. Which was ridiculous, right? It wasn’t as if she knew him very long. Not even two months had passed since she met him. Yet he was nestling into the depths of her heart and mind, rooting himself there.

Fuck was it terryfiying.

He was helping fill that empty void she always felt. But what if she lost him? What if she lost him like she lost her family? The ones who mattered most to her? She didn’t think she would be able to handle losing someone she loved again.

And while she could easily lose herself in love, in a romance that she had wanted for so long, it wasn’t what was important. The camp was the most important thing in her life right now. She wouldn’t let feelings get in the way of protecting the camp or its people.

Perhaps throwing herself into her work would help stow those feelings away. They would be kept at bay so she could focus, so that maybe she wouldn’t inevitably become hurt by his leaving. Because everyone in her life left. What would make him so different? He could say he wouldn’t leave, say he wouldn’t do the same thing as everyone else had.

But every one of those people who left said the same thing, yet they still turned their backs on her.

Sighing, Y/n slumped further onto her bed, burrowing into the blankets and pressing her head into the pillow. She had been up so early that morning and exhaustion was weighing down on her. She had been working throughout the day and into the night before waking up before the sun the next day. She was beat.

As her eyes began to droop, Dean emerged from her bathroom. She peeked and eyes open and watched as he toweled off his wet hair, dressed in simple jeans and a henley. Hanging the towel on the rack before he sauntered over to the bed where Y/n was laying. He gently reached down to run a hand along the back of her head.

“Are you okay?” He asked, fingers lightly caressing her head, worry etched into his face.

“Yes. Why?”

“You seem sad,” he told her. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and rested a hand on her back. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” she promised. She sat up and locked eyes with him. “That’s kind of the problem.”

He cocked his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know how to keep myself from falling for you,” she said honestly. May as well speak the truth in the apocalypse, no beating around the bush when you could die at any moment. “I don’t know how to keep myself from getting hurt.”

Dean frowned. “Is that what’s happening here?”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know.”

Dean hesitated but nodded briefly and looked away. “You might want to figure that out.”

“I know.”

He sighed and squeezed her hip affectionately. “I thought I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” He still didn’t make eye contact when he added despondently, “don’t you trust me?”

Y/n’s heart thumped roughly in her chest. “Of course I do.”

“Then why do you still question my motives? Why don’t you believe anyone could love you?”

Suddenly her heart was in her throat. Love her? He couldn’t love her. This couldn't be love with him. Not yet. Maybe infatuation or attraction, but he couldn’t possibly love her. He seemed to catch what he said because his face turned red and he stiffened.

“Because everyone always says that. They never plan to leave in the beginning.”

“Well sorry, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me,” Dean said.

“For now.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up, beckoning her to the door. “I don’t want to argue with nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense if it’s true,” Y/n muttered, taking his hand. He scowled.

“That in of itself is nonsense,” he said. “But come on, let’s get some work done before we say something we regret.”

Before the two could reach the door, it crashed open, Luke’s frantic face stepping into view as he nearly fell inside with the force he used to open the door. Y/n jumped and Dean crouched into a defensive stance automatically.

“Jesus, Luke!” Y/n said. “What the hell?”

“It’s… you have to look… I don't even…” Luke sucked in breaths rapidly, his face turning ashy pale as he hyperventilated. Y/n wasted no time in moving in front of her closest friend and second-in-command, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Breathe, Luke,” she said. “Like me. In, hold, out, good. Again.”

He did his best to match her breathing, the terror still written on his face and glowing in his eyes, body trembling. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

“The barbarians. The runners left this morning for a hunt. They hadn’t come back in time-”

“Wait, they didn’t? Why wasn’t I informed?” Y/n asked, fingers tightening on Luke’s shoulders.

“Well… Mikela thought it best if we didn’t tell you. You’re finally back to health, well for the most part. Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you stare into space sometimes or forget something right after it happened. Your head is still healing and-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.” She let go of him roughly, moving to the door. “I’m still the fucking leader.”

“We need a leader who is well enough to lead. She came to me and-”

Y/n spun around to face him. He stumbled back on the look on her face. She was furious, feeling betrayed. “Excuse me?”

“I’m second in command. I didn’t think it was right so I came to you and-”

“I’m not some fucking weakling,” she snarled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine in a long time,” Luke said. She nearly vibrated with rage.

“I’m fine enough to lead this camp. I’m fine enough to fulfill the duties I promised to fulfill when I took this position. You are second in command, not first. Which means I am the one they come to. Not you.”

“I know,” he said quietly. He looked down at his shoes.

“Now. What the hell happened?”

“Runners two and six went hunting this morning.”

“Sophie and Gary. I wrote the schedule,” she said flatly. Luke nodded.

“They didn’t come back. So Mikela went out with runner three, Matthew, and-and they came back but we need you. Just… come with me. I have to show you.”

Glancing at Dean for a moment, who looked back at her with equal confusion, Y/n followed Luke outside. Some people were gathered by the front gate, but the guards were holding their line firmly. The small crowd of people parted to let Y/n through.

“What happened?”

“Where’s Gary?”

“If they’re dead, I blame you!”

Y/n stepped through the gate that the guards opened for her, ignoring the shouts from the crowd. Mikela was there, face as stony as ever, with Matthew and Richard at her sides. Y/n cocked her head.

“What happened? Luke was very vague.”

Mikela jerked her head behind her and led Y/n through the trees. Clouds covered the sky, but slivers of sunlight cut through the curtain of gray and down into the breaks of the leaves. They were on alert as they walked, Matthew, Dean, and Luke trailing behind the two women as they went.

“Why is he here?” Luke asked.

Y/n glanced back at them. Dean had turned his head to glare at Luke, who tried not to look in his direction. Y/n shrugged.

“He’s going to be a guard. He needs some field experience.”

Luke scoffed. “You’re only letting him trail you like a puppy because you’re fucking him.”

Everyone stopped walking collectively. Luke had paled and taken a step back, knowing he had gone too far. Dean’s face hardened as he gripped Luke’s shirt collar and dragged him within inches of his face.

“Watch your damn mouth,” he snarled. Luke shoved against Dean’s chest hard and stumbled back as the man let go.

“Luke,” Y/n spoke calmly. He turned to her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“If I hear one more word from your mouth, Dean won’t be the one you have to worry about. Speak to me or any other woman like that and I’ll boot you from your role here, and then contemplate your stay here at the camp. Is that understood?”

Luke nodded and swallowed hard.

“Good,” Y/n said. “You’ve tested my patience enough today. Go back to the camp and stay there.”

“Yes, Lord Commander,” he said, trying to lift the spirits with her nickname. But it didn’t work, and he turned to slink back through the trees.

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” Mikela said lowly, gripping Y/n’s elbow to tug her along. They only walked for about a minute before she stopped and turned away. “Look.”

Mikela lifted her hand to point a few yards away. Y/n followed her finger and gasped in shock before she almost cried out in horror. She slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the sounds.

There, strung up by his neck, Gary hung from a thick branch of a tree. His eyes had been ripped from his head- dark, bloody sockets remaining. His throat had been hacked at, his clothes had been stolen, and his body had been utterly disfigured. Chunks of thigh had been cut away, one of his arms was missing.

The only way she knew it was Gary was by the tattoo on his chest, a family crest that sat over his heart. It had been cut into with a knife, an X marking it.

Y/n thought she may faint. Her knees wobbled at the sight and she quickly turned away, forcing the vomit that threatened to come up down.

“Oh my God.”

“We haven’t found Sophie. We think it was the barbarians.”

“You’re sure?” Y/n asked. Mikela nodded and held out a piece of paper. It was crumpled and bloody.

“This was nailed to his foot when we found him.”

Y/n took the paper tentatively, clenching her jaw as she read it.

“Thanks for the meal and for the fun. They’ll have to do until I get you back, Y/n. -R.”

Y/n looked up at Dean, fear gripping her heart. Rick. He was still alive.

“Why?” Was all she could say. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.

“It has to be them, right?” Mikela asked. “R. He’s one of the guys who we fought last year. One of the guys who took you?”

Y/n nodded and folded the letter before shoving into her pocket. She cleared her throat and loosed a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, this was the barbarians. Rick. He uh… he’s threatened me on more than one occasion. He’s pissed that I got away from him again.”

“So what do we do?” Matthew asked. Y/n looked between the three of them, chewing on her lip as she thought. Sighing, she turned to the body hanging in the tree and winced.

“We have to give him a proper burial.” She took her switchblade from her pocket and put it in her mouth to hold it as she hauled herself up the tree, climbing it enough by the branches to reach the rope that held Gary hanging. She suppressed a gag at the smell of blood and decay and flicked the knife open. She sawed at the rope a few times until it gave away and Gary fell to the ground. “We’ll bury him in the cemetery with the others.”

“I’ll run back and grab a sheet or something,” Matthew said. He broke out into a run, desperate to get far away from their mutilated friend.

“Poor Gary,” Mikela said softly. “He was always so nice.”

“And what about the other one? Sophie, was it?” Dean asked. “You think they… they took her?”

“I hope not,” Y/n said. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “God, I hope not.”

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

Text

The Ties That Bind Us - Part 4

@wSummary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since your were 4 years old. The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do. But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.

A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests. I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.

Words: 2328

Warnings: Trauma, medical terminology, stress, hospital waiting room

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

My eyes snapped open. I was sitting at a wooden table in the middle of an open kitchen; a set of plates and silverware in front of me. There were enough seats for five people and each had a place setting. But each chair beyond mine was empty. The table was mostly white with several scratches and stains scattered along it. Something about it felt so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I ran my hand along the edge of it, taking in the coarse feeling of each deep scratch.

The sound of falling dishes pulled me away from my attempt to remember, drawing my eyes up to the kitchen sink.

“Mom?” Surely it couldn’t be. But as soon as the word left my mouth, breathless as it was, she turned around with the same bright, loving smile that she’d always had for me.

“Hey there, my little hummingbird.” Hearing the affectionate nickname leave her mouth sent shivers through me. “Hope you’re hungry!” She walked quickly over to the oven and opened it, pulling out a large pyrex dish, full to the brim with bubbling hot lasagna.

“Mom,” I whispered, my voice hitching in my throat, as I stood up and slowly walked towards her.

“Careful now,” she cautioned. “The pan’s hot.” She set the pan down on the trivet that was already on the counter and turned to face me.

Her eyes sparkled that same dazzling seafoam green that I remembered. Lifting her hand, she gently stroked the back of her fingers across my cheek. “Oh Y/N,” she said. “How I’ve missed you.” She pulled my face closer to hers, touching her forehead to mine as a small but sad giggle shook her chest.

“Dinner ready?” Another familiar voice called from behind me. “I’m starved.” I turned my head, sure that I couldn’t be hearing what I believed I was. Looking up, I locked eyes with my father. The same short sandy brown hair, his dark eyes that peered at me through the thickest black plastic glasses I’d ever seen, and the pillow-perfect pot belly that I remembered.

He smiled at me and put his arms out to the side, inviting me to come over to him. I nearly knocked him over as I ran towards him, my own arms outstretched, as he enveloped me in the bear hugs he had always done the best. He lifted me off the ground just slightly and I wiggled my feet in the air. “Hey baby girl,” he crooned before setting me on my feet again.

My mom walked over towards us; a hand gently placed on each of our shoulders. “Dinner’s on” she said with a smile. Making our way over to the table, we each sat down in one of the empty chairs. My eyes fixated on the two empty chairs. “Don’t worry,” my dad said. “They’ll be here soon enough.” He seemed to shake off the unspoken question as my mother began dishing out her classic handmade lasagna. I could smell the sausage and beef, and the aroma of the tomatoes delighted my senses.

“It looks delicious, Mom.” My lips seemed permanently drawn up into a smile, to the point that my cheeks would surely begin to ache soon. But I quickly picked up my knife and fork and dug in.

“Still your favorite, right Hummingbird?” My mom seemed absolutely entertained as she watched me gobble up the dish, tomato sauce staining my cheeks as I did. I nodded emphatically.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, reveling in the presence of one another. Once we had all finished, my father began clearing the table. “Go on outside and have a sit,” he said. “You’ve got some catching up to do.” Leaning over quickly, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of my head, the way he always had.

Mom stood up from the table, running her hand down my father’s arm as she gave him an appreciative smile and gestured towards the back-patio door. I quickly wiped off my mouth with my napkin, ensuring that my skin wouldn’t be covered in orange tomato sauce, as I stood up and made my way to the sliding glass door that was just through the living room.

She slid the door open for me, waving me ahead and pointing out the door. The view from the patio was the definition of picturesque. The grass that lined the concrete slab was healthy and plush, leading down to a sandy beach where salty ocean water was beckoning. The waves were gentle, and the sound of them seemed to calm me down passed my already blissed out state of relaxation.

“Here,” my mom said, holding up a folded-up beach chair to me. She had her own in her other hand, as I grabbed the one she was extending out to me. We walked out into the sand. I could feel each grain between my toes, and I felt my feet being sucked ever so slowly into the wet sand as the warm water drifted just over my toes. We both set up our chairs just past the water line and took our respective seats; our feet and behinds grazing the surface of the water as the chairs sank slowly.

“This is perfection,” I whispered, laying my head back and closing my eyes, taking in the sounds and smells of the fresh, crisp ocean air.

My mom let out a short chuckle with the slightest air of sadness tainting the sound that I would recognize anywhere. I opened my eyes and looked at her questioningly.

“Have you decided?” Her question left me confused. I could feel my eyebrows growing closer together as those familiar folds between them increased and my head instinctively tilted to the side. “What are you talking about? Decided what, Mom?”

She smiled at me again, reaching her hand out and grasping my fingers with her own. She laid her head back down against her chair, closing her eyes as she turned her head back to face the water. “If you’re staying, Hummingbird.”

My heart was racing. “Staying?”

“It’s up to you, dear. You can stay. Or you can go back.”

“Back where, Mom?” I could almost hear my heart beating in my ears.

“To your life.” Her answer was succinct, as she confirmed everything that I had begun to fear. “We’ll still be here waiting for you if you do. We always will be. Your father and I, we’ve missed you. Immensely. But if you aren’t ready,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “If you want to go back, we will understand. You’ve so much life to live, Hummingbird.” Her hand gripped mine tighter now as she fixed her eyes on me.

“This is heaven, isn’t it?” I asked the question, knowing that the answer was obvious and that everything in me was telling me to stay.

She nodded simply, her eyes glazing over and a smile coming to her face. “You’ll have to decide. I can’t do it for you. I’m not sure what I’d say if I even could. But we love you, Y/N. And no matter what, we’ll always be here.”

I laid my head back down against the back of the chair, extending my feet into the water that was slowly coming in further and further with the tide. I squished the soft sand beneath my feet and watched as pelicans dove in and out of the water just in front of us.

Dean paced the hall between the waiting room and the nurse’s station, raking his hands through his hair as Sam sat in the blue chair, pleading with his brother to sit down and take a breath.

“It’s been hours, Sammy. Hours. How do they not know anything yet? Bunch of hacks.” Dean’s voice was panicked but firm, exposing his irritation and fear.

A nurse came through the doors towards the nurse’s station and Dean stopped for a moment, his eyes locked on the man wearing the dark green scrubs, hoping that he was there to give him news. When the nurse kept on walking, leaning over the desk towards a coworker and discussing the dosage for another patient, Dean let out the breath he was holding and dropped his head. His fingers wound around the back of his neck as he leaned his head back and attempted to relax and stress out the all-too tense muscles.

“There’s nothing you can do, Dean.” Sam pleaded with him. “You need to sit. Try to get some rest maybe-“

“Nothing I can do? Are you kidding me, Sam? Angels, HooDoo, crossroads deal, I don’t care what it takes but there sure as hell is something I can do.” Dean’s impatience was getting the better of him. He pulled his phone out and began dialing any number he could think of.

“Garth, hey,” Dean said as the line connected. “Tell me you’ve got a line on a faith healer or fallen angel. Anything man,” he begged. A few seconds passed and Dean closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand as he did so. “It’s Y/N,” he said quietly. “It’s bad. I don’t know…” He trailed off, unwilling to finish his thought. “Yeah, yeah Garth. I know. Just let me know if you find anything okay?” He disconnected the line and walked over towards Sam, taking a seat and laying his head in his hands, seemingly defeated.

Sam reached over and placed his hand on his brother’s back and rubbed small comforting circles, trying to calm him down.

“We can’t lose her, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was whisper quiet as his voice broke and the dam that had been holding his tears back began to waver.

“We won’t,” Sam reassured him. “Hey,” Sam said, encouraging his brother to look him in the eye. “We won’t. She’s going to be fine.” Each word was said with pure conviction, as if Sam believed each one with absolute certainty, even though the pit in his stomach felt otherwise.

Dean nodded slowly, as he stood back up and began pacing again in front of the row of seats.

The doors to the left of the nurse’s station opened quickly and a woman wearing a blue surgery gown and a yellow and green head cap covered in pineapples walked towards them, wringing her hands together.

“Doc,” Dean said, walking up to meet her as Sam stood up quickly by his side. “What’s the word?”

“She’s still in surgery,” the woman began. Dean immediately tensed up again, his arms crossing as he listened intently. “The damage was much worse than we originally thought. The weapon pierced her liver and severely damaged the hepatic portal vein. She’s lost a lot of blood to the point that she was already hypothermic when she arrived.”

Dean ran his hands through his hair again, tugging at the ends as he turned around, away from the doctor and then came back. “What does that mean? Is she going to be okay?”

The woman looked at him with sympathetic eyes, knowing that giving anything close to false hope would be cruel. “We’re trying to stop the bleeding, but right now, her hypothermia is preventing her blood from clotting. The hepatic portal vein has been repaired, but right now, she’s fighting off the hypothermia and acidosis.”

Dean looked over at Sam. “I don’t know what any of this means.” His worry was getting the better of him and his exhaustion with the situation was peaking.

Sam looked at the doctor and gestured for her to continue.

“Basically, with how much blood she’s lost, and the damage to her liver, her blood doesn’t have enough oxygen or enough nutrients to keep her heart pumping effectively. And because of how much blood she’s lost, her body has started burning glucose to keep enough energy to run her body. When that happens, our bodies don’t function well, and all our organs begin to get damaged. That’s where she’s at right now. We’re chasing the damage around each organ, trying to repair and prevent any more. We’ve begun blood transfusions to try to combat it and we’re giving her as many IV nutrients as we can.”

Sam shook his head. “So, what do we do now,” he asked her. She looked back at him sadly.

“Pray.” She reached out and touched his arm reassuringly before turning around and going back through the doors that she had came in through.

Sam’s eyes were held open, seemingly bulging out of their sockets as he stared at the floor with his arms crossed, attempting to absorb everything that he’d just heard.

“No,” Dean said behind him, standing up with authority. “No, this isn’t happening,” he declared. “She’s not going out. Not like this.”

“Dean,” Sam breathed, reaching out to his brother in a failed attempt to comfort him.

“No,” Dean yelled at him. “Not when I can fix it!”

“How, Dean? Cas is in the wind, and she’d kill you herself if she even thought that maybe you had made a deal.”

Dean walked past his brother and headed for the exit. He began running, desperate to reach the Impala as soon as possible. He had parked right outside the Emergency Room doors in the near empty lot. Now, it was late enough in the night that the whole world seemed to be sleeping. He violently shoved the key into the lock of the trunk, yanking the lid open and propping it open with a sawed-off shotgun.

“Hemlock, hemlock. Where is the damn hemlock,” he asked nobody in particular. “Ah ha!” He celebrated as he added the now-found Hemlock to his bag, rustling it around with the crucifix, ore, and assorted other goods. He ran back into the hospital, waiting impatiently as the triage nurse buzzed him back into the surgical waiting room.

Sam looked at him expectantly, obviously looking for some sort of explanation.

“Lets trap a reaper.”

To be continued....

Part Five

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 3 years

Text

Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part twenty four is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 6,800

“So...” Rowena managed to corner you in the kitchen. Proud as a peacock that she'd found yu seeking out tea. “How is it that a witch would come to be so...comfortable with the Winchesters?”

“I'm...a soft core witch,” You decided the term fit. She wasn't getting a full explanation. Despite your trust in the fact her motives were fear based, there was more enough craftiness bubbling beneath the surface to make you wary. “I haven't been alive for centuries. Gave me an edge.”

“You could be,” Her eyes twinkled all too bright as she pulled the herbs from your hands. A healthy sniff of the mix let he know what she was dealing with before she dropped it in. “I could teach you...if you'd like?”

“I don't want to live forever,” You brushed that off easily. Leaning against the marble counter. Away from her. “Appreciate the offer, though.”

“Then, what do you want to learn?” Rowena was nothing without allure. There were things she could teach. The trick she'd pulled earlier was a fine example.

“Why are ya so interested in handing out your tricks?” Your brow quirked, demanding an answer. “You don't even know me

“I tried to start my own coven before,” Another one of those overly emphasized sighs left her painted lips. “It didn't work out.” The confession wasn't much of a surprise. “I just wanted peers of my own. To teach up and coming witches what I know. As for that last bit, you have a...feel about you.” Her eyes narrowed, looking over you. Seeing far too deep for your comfort. “You're important, dearie.”

“Hardly.” Was your response. You'd helped Wendy and Donna. Aided in shaping Jack into the caring boy he'd become. While you were sure it was where you needed to be, you weren't nearly as vital as the two men you lived with. “I'm just a puzzle piece in a much bigger game.”

“Y/N,” She leaned in, “you're more than that. You're going to be the queen of the chess board.”

“Just what I wanted to see,” Dean's voice broke up the discussion. “Glinda being wooed by the Wicked Witch of the West.” He sagged against the doorway, jaw twitching under the lights. “Y/N, can I talk to you?”

“Oh, go ahead-”

“Alone,” The hunter cut off Rowena, earning an offended sniff. As soon as you were by his side, it began. “What's she pulling?” His hand was holding your bicep as he tugged you along behind him.

“Hell if I know,” You retorted with a snort. Throwing forward his own analogy, “Before I got anything worth value, the scarecrow interrupted.”

“So, you're a double agent, now?” He shoved open the door to your room, yanking you in behind him. Ensuring that you two were well and truly alone as he slammed the door shut.

“Can you please let me go?” As soon as you were secure, he did. Noting the way you flinched at his touch.

There was no angel to take away the aches and pains from the earlier fights- if you could call them that. At first, he'd assumed you were mad at him. Then, he saw the truth of it.

“You okay?” Suddenly, the alpha was worried. Taking in the stiffness in your movements as you sat down on your bed.

“Just sore,” The brush off wasn't good enough. He leaned down, lifting your shirt to see what the damage was. Bruising and scrapes lined it from his boots. You tried to pull away. To hide the evidence. “Dean, it's not a big deal-”

“It is,” His fingers traced over it, gently. Noting where it hurt the most based on the intake of your breath. “I'm sorry.”

“You were in love,” A shrug left you at that, pushing even harder to drop your shirt. That time, he let you. “It makes us all a little crazy. You're just a little...extra.” The teasing got you absolutely nowhere. His face remained pinched. Eyes zeroed in on your middle. As if he could see the damage.

“That...that wasn't love.” Dean's voice was soft, then. Almost nervous. Tilting your head in confusion, you silently prodded for him to go on. “It was something...but it wasn't love.”

Your heart fluttered at the words. Begging for it to be real that time. It took everything in you to ask what was on your mind.

“When you were...under...you didn't knock me out.” His head lowered, listening to you speak. Carefully choosing your words. “You didn't hurt me...not like you tried to Sam.”

“And you want to know why.” He finished the thought. Chewing at his bottom lip. His fingers tangled together as he anxiously started bouncing his knee. “I dunno...Probably the same reason why I wanted to rip that Marlon kid to shreds with my bare hands when he turned you.”

“Donna sped things up a bit,” Your lip twitched in pride. She was doing a little better. You kept in contact with her. Checked in with Jody to be sure. The hunter played a vital role in your humanity that night. It'd been the least you could do. “Probably for the best, that time.”

“Yeah, probably.” He agreed, nodding and pursing his lips. Then, he turned back to the matter at hand. “You...you, uh...you're kinda important around here.”

“For Jack-”

“Not just, Jack.” You hadn't even been able to finish. “I'm not very good at this.” His lips screwed to the side. “Hell, probably suck. But...it's not just Jack. Okay? Trust that.”

Stewing on his words, he turned his head away. Brows knocking together. So sure that he'd made a mistake.

“You're important, too.” The reply was soft, but he heard it. Your fingers moved up, tugging at the thin chain around his neck. “Guess this didn't work out so well, huh? We'll have to try something else.”

You went to lift it away, only to be stopped by a meaty grip, “No...No, I want to keep this one.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he shook his head. “It works just fine.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding there for a moment. “I'm going to find, Sam...Just...be careful with Rowena.” The answering nod was enough for him. He walked away, glancing back over his shoulder before he disappeared.

As he left, he thought back over everything he could remember from that morning. He saw your face softening when he talked about love. How you'd shifted instantly when you realized it was Jamie he was raving over.

The irrational urge to do whatever was necessary hadn't included trying to seriously harm you. In that moment, when he'd had you pinned? He'd almost come back. Nearly had shaken off the influence when he'd watched his hand wrap around your throat. The charm he carried had practically burned at his chest. Pulling him back to reality. His lips curled upwards a bit as he moved back to the library, whistling away...

–

“Welcome to Stillwater Oklahoma,” Sam announced as the Impala came to a halt.

“How depressingly midwestern,” Rowena grumbled, her wide rimmed sun glasses covering her eyes. The scenery was nothing to look at. The grass was dull from the chilled air. Even the sky was covered with grey rather than blue.

“Alright, Red, where to?” Dean turned around, looking at the witch in charge for the moment.

“The tracking spell isn't like GPS,” She pointed out, unhappily. You knew that pain. Location spells were only so helpful. “The book's not moving, and it's in the general area.” A sigh of resignation left her lips. “We'll need to talk to the yokles.”

“Okay,” He clearly wasn't thrilled with that news. “Well, small-town folks usually like to look out for themselves.” The older Winchester pointed out unwillingly.

“I can make them talk,” The arrogant answer curled up her lips. More than eager to speed up the process. You were positive it would be in a way you wouldn't dream of.

“Uh, your spells tend to boil people's brains,” Sam cut in, making your eyes widen a bit. She shrugged your way at that. Telling you it was no big deal in her mind. “So, maybe let us handle it?”

“Fine,” She gave in, that dramatic flare ever present. “Fine, we can do your very time consuming investi....” A snore left her lips as her head fell over. Rowena's way of saying that they were boring.

For all her trouble, you couldn't deny it. She was charming as hell. It'd be cute if she wasn't the literal mother of the past king of hell.

“Okay,” Dean spoke up to clarify. “See, 'we' aren't doing anything.” His hand pointed at the entire group. Making it clear she wasn't included.

“I'll keep an eye on her,” Sam volunteered. Just as a little safety net to ensure that you weren't overly tempted.

“Leave me with a babysitter if you must, but do start with the women.” She sighed out. Annoyed at the necessity of it. Then, she seemed to think for a moment. Tugged her glasses down to look at Dean, “Something tells me that they aren't popular with other ladies.” As you started to move, you were stopped. “Oh, but why can't Y/N stay with me?” Her arms wrapped around the one closest to her. Smiling brightly at you to try and schmooze her way into your heart. “You'll stay with me, won't you dear? These Winchesters are rather brutish, so it would be much better if-”

“Sam will take care of you,” You laughed, peeling her away. “We'll be back...you two...just talk.” The door was shut behind you, just in time to hear a dramatic huff.

“You act like you know a secret,” Dean leaned your way, bumping your shoulder with his as his hands tucked into his pocket. “Spill.”

“They both have some underlying trauma,” You shrugged out, knowing he'd know about that better than you. “I did a reading for Sam a while back.”

“I know,” Came the nod, surprising you. “Wasn't thrilled with the idea, but...”

“But, you didn't want to duke it out,” You finished for him. Moving towards the first building. “It wasn't anything bad. It was on what kind of healing still needs done. Everybody has something, and he wanted something personal.” A shrug followed that news. Blowing off what you'd offered to the younger brother. “Rowena isn't the only one hiding from what Lucifer did...maybe it'll do them both some good. To have someone who experienced...something to the same...intensity, to talk to.” At that, Dean paused, watching you move ahead.

He turned back to look at the car, frowning at the thought of Lucifer still haunting his little brother. Not that he was surprised. Sam had to keep reliving it every time the archangel came into play.

His lips tightened before he followed your movements. Wanting the angel to die, yet again. Maybe then the man he'd raised could feel some peace.

“It's a little freaky how you dig into people's minds, you know that?” He called out, extending his stride after you.

“I get that a lot,” You laughed, sending a grin his way as he caught up. “Keeps people on their toes.” A twist of his lips and a noise at the back of the throat was your only answer to that one.

“Hi there,” Dean called out towards a worker as you two entered the hardware store. Third time was the charm. The bell clanked over the top of the door as it shut. “Been to a few other places,” He stated, moving up to the counter. “Haven't had much luck. Was hoping you'd help me out.”

“Oh, happy to try,” The woman's smile was a little too bright. Earning a cough to hold back your laugh as she looked over Dean. You weren't even a blimp on her radar. Evidently her glasses were in full working order, as her eyes darted up and down. “What do you need?”

“I'm looking for these two girls in, uh, town.” He started out. Either too used to that kind of response or simply oblivious to what was happening. You elected to believe the first option. “Jennie and Jamie.”

Just the name made you want to curl your nose. Instead, you plastered a smile to your face as she glanced your way for the first time. Trying to understand what a woman would want to do with them.

“Oh,” The sour tone made your brows lift. Seems you'd run into a 'fan'. “The Plum sisters.”

“Right,” You spoke up. Noting the disappointment on her face. You understood the feeling a little too well. “Yeah, we're looking to track them down.”

“Hm...” Her brow lifted at that, letting you know that her mind had gone somewhere scandalous. Apparently their reputation held steady. “You and every other man west of the Ozarks.”

“Popular, huh?” Dean asked, prying out more information.

“That's one word for it,” The hostility was tangible in the air. You mentally reminded yourself to send this woman a little extra good will when all was said and done. “And a whole mess of trouble.”

The pointed look told Dean that he was better off avoiding them. Something you agreed with wholeheartedly. If you hadn't needed the book, there'd be no way in hell you'd have been in the small town.

“Well, they took something. And I need to get it back.” Was the hunter's way of trying to end that theory. It didn't work.

“Heard it before,” She cut off, rolling her eyes at the line. “They stole your heart, and you can't live without them.” The disgust was evident. She had no intentions of aiding that cause.

“They stole a book,” Your answer seemed to puzzle her. Her head tilted as she took you in for the first time.

“A book?” Dean hummed in confirmation.

She laughed, then, “Honey, now I know you're lying. I doubt they can even read.” Your own snicker landed with you getting your foot pressed on. Not hard enough to hurt, but the warning was there all the same.

“Well, that has been up for debate.” He acknowledged, looking your way. There wasn't an ounce of shame in the shrug you gave out. You'd made the same jab on the way over. “If it helps, I don't plan on being nice about it when we do find them.”

“And if he can't hold up to that, I will.” She looked into your eyes, taking in the hard edge you carried. Letting all of the anger you possessed show. That appeared to sell it. She seemed surprised, but she didn't argue. Pushing out some of the receipt paper so that she could write down the information.

“You gonna be really mean?” Women could carry an infinite amount of spite. This one was no different. Dean let out a small 'yeah' to give her a little extra satisfaction. “Cause it's about damn time someone was.” The note was passed over.

“Thank you,” The woman leaned against the counter, sending appreciative eyes back over Dean. Suddenly more attracted at the thought of him being out to get her enemies.

“You're welcome,” She murmured as he walked away. She placed her body over the counter to watch his ass. You followed her gaze, not blaming her in the slightest. “You hold onto that one,” She told you, letting out a little sigh of want.

“I'll keep that in mind,” You nodded her way, thanking her again before moving after him. Snickering all the way.

As you two approached the car, Rowena was getting out. Sam following behind, calling after her. “I'm not fleeing,” She told him, moving away. “Don't release the hounds!”

“Hey,” Dean asked, looking between the two. “What's going on?”

“Uh, she,” Sam motioned towards the witch, swallowing a bit as he talked. “Uh, she just needs a minute. She's alright.”

“Alright, well, I got the address.” He confirmed, nodding towards you. Giving credit where it was due. “With a little help.”

“Rowena was right,” You finished for him. Noting the way it seemed to perk her interest. She moved towards you all, then. Suddenly back in her usual spirits.

“These girls are not fan favorites,” Dean chuckled pulling out the paper. It was the biggest understatement of the day. Not that you could blame any of them.

“Right,” Came the excited Scottish agreement. “Time to get that book!”

“Oh, no.” The older Winchester cut her off. “No, you've done your bit, okay?” He motioned between the people he deemed fit for the job. “We'll take it from here.”

“Dean-”

Your protest was cut off, “No.”

“Y/N,” She cooed towards you, pleased as could be. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, but they aren't going to change their minds.” Another one of those long, loud sighs left her. “Be a dear and keep me company for a moment? While they plot and...well, whatever it is these two do.” That earned a glare. Before Dean could protest, you were pulled away. A bag was tugged from her pocket; dropped to the ground as she urged you forward, “Manete!”

“What did you-” You turned back to see the men staring in disbelief as they tried to move their feet. They didn't budge.

“It means 'remain' in Latin,” She stated proudly. Glancing back over her shoulder as Sam yelled out her name, flailing his arms a bit as he struggled. The bag out of reach. “They won't be going anywhere. Now...do you join them? Or do you help me make these girls pay?”

“Y/N!” Dean bellowed out, making your eyes meet his. The warning clear.

“This isn't going to fix the damage you've already done,” You began, noting the way her eyes widened a bit at that. She turned to the younger brother, having heard almost the same thing earlier. “But, fine. I'll go along with it.”

“Don't you go with her,” The older brother roared, leaning forward to try and grab at you. Nearly falling to his face in the process.

Sam braced himself on the car. Stretching towards the bag. Dean tried to jump, his feet glued to the cement. Both men even more bent on getting free as they realized what you were about to choose. You mouthed a sorry over your shoulder as you started after the witch. Listening to the alphas shout in fury all the while.

It wasn't a far walk. Six blocks at most. The witch hadn't even needed GPS.

“Are they arguing over tin foil?” You whispered towards Rowena at the door. Catching something about the aluminum being mentioned. She simply shrugged, before pushing open the wood silently. Not even creating a creak.

“Okay, so you don't think it said anything.” One of the sisters demanded, becoming more clear as you ghosted into the room. Shutting the door quietly behind you. It was Jamie. The 'lover' from earlier.

“I told you,” The other retaliated heatedly. “There's all kinds of weird writing. I was totally honest about that.”

It took everything in you not to snicker. The cashier had been right. They couldn't read the book.

“Maybe there's something wrong with his soul.” Someone had been sacrificed for whatever spell they'd been attempting. Rowena set down her bag as she started leading the way forward. “Maybe he was, like, a really bad guy or something.”

“Come on.” The one who couldn't read the book dismissed the idea. Jennie. “He was obviously a total boy scout.”

A loud sigh was released at that, “I don't think that even matters.” Rowena peaked in through the door, past the body that rested in the chair.

“We need to do something.”

“I'm looking!”

Pages flipped loudly. The black grimoire taking abuse at the hands of new age witches. Rowena motioned for you to wait, then, and be quiet.

“You were supposed to get the book and wait for me,” She sounded darkly, approaching the doorway.

At one point, you might have been surprised. However, by that stage, you weren't. She was too wily to be trusted completely. There'd been too many coincidences.

“I...uh...” One of the sisters stumbled over her words.

“Okay,” The other spoke up. “Like, the Winchesters were all over us, and-”

“And we didn't wanna call you.” The obstinate one finished. Jamie. She set down whatever she was holding. “Because we can take care of ourselves.”

For a woman, she sounded more like a teenager than you'd imagined possible. Another strike against the girl. A deep breath left you as you struggled to remain in place.

“I told you about the book,” Old witches were far more formidable than either sister expected, you were sure. “Where to look for the boys. We had a deal.” The anger in her tone couldn't be denied. “Now, I've had to use them to find you.”

“You brought them here?” Jamie hissed out, unaware that you rested behind the wood. Reaching around behind you to pick up the item even Rowena hadn't known you carried.

“When you nincompoops ran, I did what I had to do.” She replied heatedly. You weren't her only pupil, as it were. “But, I can still complete the spell. We can still complete our deal.”

“You'd still help us?” The sister asked: Jennie.

“As long as you give me the book when we're done.” Your mind wandered to the brothers. Curious to see how long it took them to break free. “You don't need it, anyway. Witches of your level would-”

“Witches of our level?” Considerable offense had been made at that statement.

“Yes.” Rowena didn't butcher her words.

“Are you saying what our mom taught us wasn't good enough?” The tension in the room rose. Thick enough that you almost made your move. But, it wasn't time. Not yet.

“Shit,” The mutter left you when the floor creaked by you. A figure approaching was enough to make you duck down.

She looked like a zombie. All rotted and stiff as she moved. Internally, you wished Jack was present. Knowing he'd love the walking dead scene in front of you.

“Jennie, I think what she's saying is that we're not good enough.”

“You think you're so smart, huh?” The voice was filled with annoyance. “Well, we already did the spell...mostly.”

“Mostly?” You heard when Rowena saw the woman appear. Small hissing leaving the cadavers' body. “What have you done?”

“It's like...step one of bringing her back.” You crept forward, slowly. Just as Dean had taught you. Careful to keep the pressure on your feet angled just right to ensure not a sound escaped.

“We'll figure out the rest when she kills you,” Jamie stated easily.

“Unfortunate,” Rowena sounded solid. “But, not my first zombie, love.” She jerked her hand through the air, “Abi!”

“Oh, the side effect of the spell?” Dean's former 'love' spoke eagerly when nothing happened. “She's, like, magic proof!” The hissing woman lunged, then.

“And she's totally gonna eat your brain!” Jennie called out as Rowena bolted.

She locked herself in the first room she found as the zombie beat on the door. Next to the sisters. You cocked back the hammer, preparing yourself for what was going to happen.

–

“Needed a minute, huh?” Dean looked down at Sam, nostrils flaring in unconstrained rage.

“You don't have to say it, Dean,” Sam grunted, stretching his arm out as far as he could. So close to the item they needed.

“Oh, I'm gonna say it.” He continued, standing tall and proud while his brother attempted some kinda of yoga looking grasp that fell short. “She played you.”

“She played us,” Small stones dug into the palms of his hands. Still attempting to end the hex placed on him. “And she's scared.”

“Yeah, well she better be.” Dean bit out. Narrowing his eyes. “Especially if Y/N gets hurt.” When Sam's hand fell short, again, he sighed. “Come on. You're like eight feet tall. You can't reach that?”

His fingers just brushed over the black bag with purple thread, “I almost got it.” His fingers extended until he was sure all of the joints were popping out of socket in his body. Finally, the edges managed to be gripped between two just enough to tug it closer. Another roll had it within grip. He grunted, standing up proudly as Dean opened up his lighter.

“Alright,” He took the offending bag with ease, and set it afire. Immediately, their feet were free to move. “Alright, let's go kill some witches.” As the flame burnt, he tossed the damaged bag at Sam's feet, who was still breathing as if he'd run a marathon, “You want that?”

A bitch face was his only answer. Without another word, they got into the Impala. Prepared to go save the day.

“It's just a magical zombie,” Rowena sang to herself. Bracing against the door. “You've dealt with worse than magical zombies before, Rowena.” The wood splintered as the hand came through. “Clearly you wanted your mom back in better shape,” She hissed out, searching through the objects at her disposal. “I can still do that.”

“Nah, you missed your chance to play nice.” One of the blonde ditzes stated easily.

“She never had it,” You grumbled, understanding your role, then, as another weak zombie crack was made. You were her back up plan. It was almost genius, really.

With a grunt, you rounded the corner. Taking aim and firing a single shot. All in the span of a second. The skull of the dead woman flung forward, slamming into the door along with pieces of coagulated blood and brain. You weren't the best shot. Too far left to place a perfect bulls-eye, but the damage was done deep enough to get the desired result.

“Mom!” The broken cries echoed as they rushed over to the cadaver. No signs of life. You cocked back the hammer, taking aim once again.

“Why you-”

“Uh, uh, uh, girls,” Rowena was back in charge, realizing that the danger had passed. The broken door pushed open. “That isn't in your...best interest.” As they moved to attack, her hands raised. Casting the spell that would end it all. “Impetus Bestiarum!”

“Y/N!” Dean's voice echoed through the house. “Rowena!”

“In here,” You yelled out. Calling them forward before the spell could take full effect.

“End it.” Rowena instructed the bound women.

Slowly, the sisters got to their feet. Blood began to ooze from their eyes. Slowly staining their cheeks.

They squared off. Before either men could say a word, knives were lifted and they attacked. Screams and grunts filled the air as they stabbed blindly at each other. Hitting any open area that they could. Feral jabs and high pitched wails escaping. It was over in seconds. The fight too brutal to be survived for long.

The guns were dropped as Dean turned your way, “You okay?”

“Been better.” With that, you rushed over to the trash can. Emptying your stomach. Retching without abandon.

“Ah, hell.” Dean's long stride had him over to you in seconds. Brushing his hand over your back as he waited for you to get through.

“What happened?” Sam demanded, turning to Rowena. Letting his brother give you the care you needed.

“She saved me,” The woman purred out, batting her eyes innocently. “We make a hell of a team.” She looked over your way as you wiped your mouth, stammering to your feet. “Or, we will once she gets over that. Does that happen with every kill, dear?”

“First kill,” You bit out, spitting away the taste in your mouth. Anger taking over. “I know why you did it,” Your gun lifted again, this time facing her. “I just want to ensure it doesn't happen again.”

“Did what?” The younger Winchester turned your way in confusion.

“I'll tell you later,” You glanced his way. Never taking your peripheral vision from Rowena. “In case this wasn't very clear, they're witch killing bullets. So, I'd agree pretty damn fast.”

“Agreed,” Her lips lifted a bit instead of retaliating. She didn't flinch, simply looked over you. Impressed. “I think I do like you. Even if you do act more like a hunter than a proper witch. It's the company you keep, I'm sure.”

“That isn't quite good enough,” The hammer cocked back. Staring stonily at her. “I want it spelled out.”

“Fine,” Rowena stretched the word out dramatically. “I won't pull anymore nasty tricks against the boys to get the book.” Her hand waved dismissively. “You saved my life. It's the least I can promise.” She had stressed the book bit, but it was the best you were going to get. The gun was dropped. “Now, then, back to what I came for.” She made her way over to the table, lifting her precious novel as if nothing had happened.

“As underhanded as she is, I still kinda like her,” You turned to Dean. Passing over the weapon. “Long story short? She double crossed you.” With that, you waltzed out of the room for some air. To clear your lungs of the smell of decay and fresh blood.

“What just happened?” Dean turned to Sam, tucking his weapon into the back of his waistband.

“I...I have no idea.” He answered seriously, looking at all of the carnage around him. “But, I'm pretty sure that they just saved us a fight.”

“We did.” Rowena confirmed. Pleased as could be. “And, I'm afraid she was wrong. I triple crossed you, actually. So, I ended up on your side. We defeated the villains. Just as I planned.” Sam's eyes squinted at the nonchalant confession.

“Yeah,” Sam leered over her. Using his much larger height to his advantage. “Not buying that.”

“And that book?” Dean spoke up as Sam tugged on the pages. Making Rowena yank it towards her. “You're going to give it to us, or we're can take it, either way.” Sam gripped it tighter, only to have her pull back more desperately.

“You know what I've seen,” She whispered fervently towards him. “You know what it's like. Lucifer may be locked away, but he'll be back.” Fear shined bright in her eyes. Begging for him to understand. “He always comes back...and when he does... I can't be helpless again. I need the spell.” Sam tugged the grimoire into his hands without a word. Giving her his answer. With that, she walked away, head down. “Your boys are cruel,” She huffed out, falling down on the porch step beside you.

“Must not be,” You breathed out. Lifting your head from your hands. “You're still alive.” Her lips tugged up for a moment before falling back down. “What you did...I get it. You're scared...But, I'm on their team, Rowena. That isn't gonna change.”

“You're loyal.” She nodded, sighing in defeat. “It's not a bad thing, ya know. For all of their blundering ways, they're good enough men.” The words held the bit of a grudge that kicked your own smile. “I'm still willing to teach you a thing or two.”

“I'm not gonna lie...I'm curious, but...I'm not on the same level,” Your reference to the earlier discussion made her chuckle.

Being a witch to you wasn't about power. It was about connection, over all. You were more than content to keep it that way.

“No? Perhaps next time, then.” She patted your knee before standing. Preparing to go on her way.

“Rowena,” Sam called out, making both of your heads turn. “Wait.” The ripped out page rested in his hand. “If he comes back...make it hurt.”

“This...” The witch took the page in disbelief. Reading over it once. Then a second time to be sure. “Thank you.” She smiled softly, hugging the spell to her chest. Leaving with her shot at safety.

“Dean know what you're doing?” You asked, looking up at the tall man.

“He thinks I'm checking on you.” Sam gazed down, raising a brow to silently ask if you were going to snitch. You simply nodded in approval before shrugging it off. It wasn't your secret to tell. “Gotta clean up in there.”

“Alright,” With a resigned sigh, you got to your feet. “Let's get this over with.”

It was somehow worse than the actual kill. Having to push the spilled innards back into the corpses. Wrapping them all up. Only to burn them all in the woods after bleaching everything in sight.

The bunker was a relief after all was said and done. The three of you naturally drawn to the kitchen. In dire need of a drink. Only, you took yours to your own room.

“Can't believe I fell for a love spell,” Dean grumbled, twisting the cap off of his beer and setting it beside him. “And that Y/N saved Rowena.”

“And killed the Zombie mom.” Sam pointed out, moving to sit on the metal island in the kitchen. “Those are details that sell the story.”

“Oh, yeah,” The cranky tone only made the younger brother laugh. “Yeah, getting out played by a bunch of girls. That's a story I wanna tell someone.”

“Girls beat us all the time,” The truth couldn't be denied. When you looked at a score card, the numbers did rack up.

“True,” Dean acknowledged after taking a healthy gulp. Sounding incredibly bitter, none the less. “Hey, you know that Rowena is not our friend, right?” The entire conversation switched in a moment.

“Yeah, I know that.” The older man wasn't impressed with that answer.

“Hm,” The beer slid away. Grimoire that rested in front of him was opened. A ripped page stood out like a beacon. His finger tapped against the torn edge. “Then, what's that?” Sam looked down in guilt. “You gave her the page. She got in your head man.”

“She didn't get in my head,” Sam protested.

“Look, what happened to Rowena was messed up, okay?” He agreed, lifting his hand as he talked. “But, you just let the deadliest witch in the world walk away with a page from this book.”

“Yeah,” The answer made Dean pause. “And, if Rowena breaks bad,” Sam slid down from his rest. Beer forgotten. “I will hunt her down, myself, and put a bullet in her.” The older brother didn't look like he bought it. “I will, Dean. But, if she's right, and if she does see Lucifer again? Then...I hope she makes him suffer.” Sam smiled at the thought. Hoped she'd be able to do what he wished he could.

It took a minute, but finally Dean came up with a response, “You gotta get out of this dark place. You know, whatever is going on in your head...”

“Dean-”

“What?” He wanted to understand. He really did. But, he couldn't if Sam wouldn't talk to him.

The little brother inhaled deeply, “You know what? Honestly?”

“Yeah, how about honestly?”

“I know what Rowena is dealing with. And she's not the only one who...feels helpless.”

In that moment, Dean did understand. You'd been right. They had talked about Lucifer. At least on some level.

“What do you mean?” His question was soft. Nudging for clarification so that he could comprehend exactly what he needed to.

“I mean,” Sam started, avoiding the green gaze. “I had a plan, you know? I, uh...” He stammered, trying to put what he was feeling into words. “Help Jack. Um, bring mom back. It wasn't much, but it was something. It...it kept me from spinning off the rails. A...and now...Jack is gone. Mom is still in hell, basically...a...and I...I...I just...”

“We'll figure it out,” Dean looked up at his brother. His tone gentle in a way that surprised Sam.

“Dean, we don't have a plan.” He countered, not understanding how the older sibling could seem so calm about everything. He'd been off the rails before, when they'd had more to go on. “We don't know what to do...So...So, how?”

The answer was brutally honest, “I don't know.” Sam turned up to the sky for a moment, before shifting away. Not believing it. “But, we will. You, me, and Y/N.”

“Yeah...” That wasn't quite good enough. “Night.” With that, Sam left. Beer in tow.

A sigh left Dean as he tapped the book closed. He rubbed over his head. Looked back at the way Sam had gone.

The beer was finished before he got to his feet. Book was returned back to the drawer it had belonged inside. As he stood tall, the sound of your footsteps caught his attention, “You holding up okay?”

“Better than I thought I'd be,” You answered honestly, holding your small blanket around your shoulders. “Just hunting down a new book.”

“It's there if you want it.” He pointed to the black grimoire's resting place. The bait fell short. “Earlier...you went off with Rowena...why?” He was done beating around the bush. Waiting for the answer he wanted to hear.

“Because it was the best shot of getting that book back here,” The reply settled in the air between you to. “Do you want an apology? 'Cause I'm not sorry.” Defensively, you stared into his eyes. “If I hadn't, you two could have been hurt, at the least. Rowena, for all of her difficulties, could be useful. So, I couldn't let her die. I'm just...I'm not sorry.”

“What'd ya think I felt, thinkin' you could've been hurt?” He snapped, then, making you step backwards. He didn't stop, stalking you like prey. “It sure as hell wasn't relief. I couldn't have saved you if it'd gone wrong.”

“It's not like you have to worry about being mated, anymore.” You shot back. Dean had managed to corner you. Your lower spine pressed against the table as you stared up at him. “If anything would've happened, you would've been fine.”

“Fine?” A step forward had his chest brushing against yours. Looking every bit the alpha that he was. “What part of you're important, don't you get?”

“Important doesn't mean that the world stops if something happens,” The answer was soft as you turned your head away. Airing out every thought you'd ever had on the matter. “You'd move on, Dean. The world relies on you. You have to find Jack and your mom. That's the important thing, right now.” As if that wasn't good enough, you kept going. “Besides, this is what you've been training me for. What's the big deal?”

“You're an idiot,” He bit out, reaching up to cup your neck. Forcing you to look up. “You're the only thing keepin' my head straight since we lost Jack... If I lost you? I'd be done.” His nostrils flared as his green eyes stared into yours. Realizing what you had made him admit.

With that, his hand dropped as if he'd been burned. The hunter stalked away. Shaking his head all the while. Muttering under his breath.

“Dean...” The blanket was forgotten when he disappeared towards his room. Falling to the table you were leaned against. Having needed that extra minute to process his words. With your shoulders set, you took off after him. “Dean, wait!”

“There's nothing else to say, Y/N.” He bit out without looking back. “Just let it go.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, making him spin around. Before he could say another word, you grabbed onto his shirt to steady yourself. Slamming your lips into his.

It took him a moment to respond. His hands moved up, cradling your face gently as you softened against him. Mouth moving slowly against yours. Savoring the touch.

“So? Don't talk,” You whispered when you pulled back. Letting your forehead rest against his. “That's all I wanted.”

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

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nat-20s · 3 years

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MEDIA THAT I RECOMMEND YOU CONSUME INSTEAD OF SUPERNATURAL FOR BOTH HEART AND HEALTH BROKEN DOWN BY TYPE OF MEDIA AND WHY YOU MIGHT LIKE IT IF AT ANY POINT YOU, LIKE MY POOR POOR SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD SELF, WERE INVESTED IN THIS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE FIRE OF A SHOW

with apologies to anyone on mobile who’s readmore function APPARENTLY doesn’t work

(I haven’t watched supernatural for at least five years and, given any sort of luck, I will never do so again, do not @ me)

hello babes. I am talking to you know bc I keep seeing supernatural, unironically, on my dash, and I think we can all do better. I see what’s happening and I think: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hU3i_o5Xd4g

Supernatural is fudge stripes. You are Megan. We can fix this.

So a list of alternate things that I think are overall better written/characterized/just generally more enjoyable that might scratch some of those itches:

TV SHOWS

Good Omens

okay look if u were on tumblr last year u probably already watched this show but like. If u haven’t, it’s only six episodes babe and there’s a large enough fandom that u can go down a fanart hole for days on end

Basic summary: the antichrist has reached that lovely young age where he’s supposed to bring about the apocalypse. An angel and a demon who have decided that actually they like the world as is, thank you very much, try to stop the end times. They’re not very good at it though, which makes for a comedy of errors.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: theologic (mostly christian) exploration/parody/imagery without inherently being a religious show. Fighting off the apocalypse narrative, which I think pretty much always goes hard as hell, but that’s just me. There’s a gay angel who’s socially awkward. There’s a fun very British demon. Touches on the hierarchies of heaven and hell, with framing Heaven as a bureaucracy and blurs the differences between angels and demons. Pining. Tenderness. A deep nostalgia for 80s music, though in this case it’s specifically queen, and who doesn’t love queen. Main character has a weirdly strong bond with his black vintage car. Satan is (sort of) fought.

Gravity Falls

sometimes...things that are kids shows...with a set story and a predetermined ending...are better

(also this isn’t relevant to any of what I’m talking about but I really appreciate that Gravity Falls specifically went against the thing that most begged me about ATLA aka that a 15 year old girl would be like yeah I’m into a 12 year old boy because the 12 year old boy has a crush on me and I apparently don’t get to really have a say in this. How does that make sense.)

Basic Summary: Twelve year old twins Dipper and Mabel go to stay with their Grunkle Stan for the summer in a small Oregon town called Gravity Falls. Turns out this town is filled with all sorts of strange phenomena that they often have to confront, work around, learn about, or befriend!

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: The core focus of the show is a close sibling duo, but like It’s obvious that the siblings actually like and love each other and while they have their spats it’s still incredibly clear that they deeply care about each other even with their differences LIKE SORRY SUPERNATURAL YOU CAN’T JUST TELL ME THAT SIBLINGS CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER AND THEN THEY SPEND ALL THEIR TIME FIGHTING AND LYING TO EACH OTHER AND GENERALLY ACTING LIKE THEY CAN’T STAND EACH OTHER’S COMPANY BUT THEN OOOHHH YOU CRY ON TOP OF THE HOOD OF A CAR EVERY THREE EPISODE AND SUDDENLY THEY’RE SOULMATES OR WHATEVER

Anyway. Yeah. GF has a solid sibling dynamic. Monster of the week that builds up to greater over-arching plot. A little bit of body horror, you know, for humor. Fair amount of meta humor playing with the tropes of the genre. A Good Ol Big Bad that tries to pit the siblings against each other. Have to fight the apocalypse (you’ll see this point on like a good half of these recs, I really like ‘what are we gonna do about Armageddon’ media). Interesting creature design. Planned, satisfying ending (which supernatural absolutely does not have, but I still think if it had ended with the season 5 finale like it uhh pretty obviously was supposed to, that would sort of counted. Don’t revive shows that have clearly already told their stories kids.) Tie in media that gives you some fun extra stories when you miss the characters. (yes I read some of the supernatural novels when I was a c h i l d, yes I’m pretty sure there’s one or two of them still buried somewhere on my laptop, no I don’t wanna talk about it.) Older father figure (?) who owns a tbh kind of shitty shop. Both already in place and found family.

It’s a good show, and it’s two seasons. John Mulaney Voice: I dunno it’s 40 episodes

MINI REC ALERT! (mini recs are basically things that I’m not gonna go into detail about for whatever reason [probably either due to i’m not familiar enough with it OR I just don’t like. Have a bunch to say about it in regards to how it will scratch the itches presented to u by spn] but still seem like a Good Watch)

Mini Rec: Over The Garden Wall. Spooky Kids Media! Episodic! Miniseries so you can watch it in like 2 hours! Cool ass Animation! About two brothers encountering said spooky stuff! Big Bad tries to pit brothers against each other! Might haunt you for the rest of your life! Check it out!

The Haunting of Bly Manor

I think about this show every goddamn day of my life. (Also not relevant but Greg Sestero makes a brief cameo in it and I was like hi greg my friend greg!)

Basic Summary: An girl named Dani, while staying in London, decides to take on an Au Pair job for two young children, an older brother named Miles (age 10) and the younger sister Flora (age 8) at the spoooooky and mysteeerious Bly Manor, and she gets far more than she bargained for.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Okay so supernatural doesn’t actually do this but I know I KNOW why we let ourselves be queerbaited in 2012. Four words for you: CENTRAL! GAY! TRAGIC! ROMANCE! You want some pining? Some tenderness? Some LOVE? Some dealing with internalized homophobia but no, like, actual violent onscreen homophobia? HAVE I GOT THE SHOW FOR YOU. If ur favorite episodes where the ones that make you sob (for me it was kevin’s death on god), I recommend this show. If you wished that supernatural literally ever had consequences or perma deaths or didn’t retcon major plot events like every five goddamn episodes so that there could be some exploration of like grief and trauma through the lens of/ higher stakes of horror, I recommend this show. If you really do stay up at night picturing a supernatural that wasn’t made by dumbass cishettie white men hack writers but was actually allowed to have Dean and Cas be in love over the course of the show so they could have like actual development and not the most homophobic gay reveal of all time, I recommend this show. Hell, if you just want a banger ghost story in general, I recommend this show.

As for what they actually have in common: horror setting/aesthetic without actually being all that scary most of the time. A strong sibling duo, though they’re not nearly as much of the focus of Bly Manor. Found family. Strong themes of grief. Questions of what turns someone into a monster (and done much better) An actual, much better noble sacrifice done out of love. Escalation of stakes until there’s a big final confrontation. Semi-big bad trying to tear this family apart. Found and pre-installed family. Sad orphans.

Watch this show. Vibe with me. Cry with me. Yell at me about Owen Sharma

MINI REC ALERT!

Haunting of Hill House- spiritual predecessor to Haunting of Bly Manor, though they’re not actually the same universe/story. However, it’s made by the same dude and has a shared aesthetic/sensibilities/some of the cast. This is only a mini rec bc I haven’t actually seen it, but I’ve heard good things and that it, while much more heavily leaning into family dynamics, has similar themes of exploring Grief and Trauma through ghooossstttsss.

Community

Okay I know that this may seem like a Wild rec considering community is a school sitcom with basically Zero paranormal elements but just like. Hear me out. And no this isn’t just because I think it’s a realy good show and I want more people to watch it, though that is a factor. If I was just recommending comedies that I think are good and more people should watch regardless of them serving as a replacement for supernatural I would demand you all go watch Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I’m gonna demand it anyway. Everyone go watch Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Now back to your original program:

Basic Summary: A group of students at Greendale Community College form a Spanish study group, and things quickly go Off The Fucking Rails in the best way possible.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: All right I’m gonna be real honest this rec is for all of my (correct) bitches who’s favorite episodes of Supernatural were French Mistake, Changing Channels, and/or Mystery Spot. You think if Supernatural would’ve been fucking fantastic if it had been a committed comedy instead of a CW melodrama that occasionally landed some admittedly really fucking funny episodes/concepts, Community (and the movies on this list) will gently take you into its loving arms and give you everything you desire. It’s about the Meta comedy. It’s about the discussion, exploration, and subversion of common tropes within the format. It’s about the grand use of group/ found family dynamics in order to max both the goofs and the heart. It’s about fantastic callbacks. It’s about having one of the few “asshole with a heart of gold” leads I can actually stand because. You know. Growth. It’s about the INCREDIBLE genre and pop culture parody. Which genre do they parody, you ask. All of them. They parody all the genres. The glee parody episode is a fucking masterpiece of television. If you don’t want to watch a show that features a Halloween party where everyone turns into zombies and the ABBA discography blasts in the background, you can stop reading right now, because I can guarantee you won’t be interested in a damn thing I have to say.

MINI REC ALERT: The X-Files. I’ve also never seen this but a: everything I’ve seen out of context has been fantastically weird and delightful b: it appears that there’s a general consensus that Scully and Mulder are one of the only valid straight couples so it’s probably pretty fun and c: let’s all be honest. Supernatural was already basically an x-files rip off, it had like half of their original writers swiped from the x-files crew, I’m pretty sure if you liked especially the first couple of seasons of supernatural, you’re gonna like the X-files.

Subcategory: TV SHOWS ( A WHOLE TWO OF ‘EM, OR MORE LIKE ONE AND HALF IF YOU WANNA GET TECHNICAL) I’M SPECIFICALLY RECOMMENDING FOR THAT COCAINE HIT OF PURE UNADULTERATED UNCUT 2012 TUMBLR NOSTALGIA

BBC Merlin

Yes, I know the show ended in 2010. Yes, it still provides that 2012 Tumblr nostalgia. 2012 Tumblr is a feeling, not an actual time period.

I love this stupid show. I plan on rewatching it all over the month of January. I harbor a deep amount of fondness for it. It’s why every time I see literally any depiction of Merlin I get just so fucking excited, and why I’ve consumed as many ridiculous Arthurian adaptations as I have (side note: my two favorite other ridiculous Arthurian legend adaptation are Avalon High, a DEEPLY silly DCOM that is required viewing to level up friendship with me, and The Kid Who Would Be King, which is the only movie that I think truly understands the comedic potential of playing a King Arthur Adaptation mostly straight but everyone in it is 12. I’m not sure it intended to be as fucking funny as it was, but again, they’re all middle schoolers. I have never been more jealous of an actor than I was of the 22 year old that got to play a 16 year old dumbass Merlin who was sometimes also Patrick Stewart and did all of his magic with ridiculous hand gestures That should’ve been me that should’ve been me that should’ve been me. Also Sword in the Stone by TH White is pretty good, because Merlin knows germ theory in the fantasy 400’s and he just uses it to be petty mostly. Also listen to High Noon Over Camelot by The Mechanisms. Also Also I tend to prefer family friendly adaptations because they don’t have the uhhh. You know. Incest and sexual violence of the original legend. Love to Not have that shit!) Whether you watched it initially and are due for a rewatch, or you’re intrigued enough by the concept of the show to watch it for the first time, you should join me on this wild wild ride.

Basic Summary: You know who Guinevere, Arthur, and Merlin are, come on. BBC said let’s make em all YOUNG let’s make em SEXY let’s make em FAMILY FRIENDLY and let’s make magic REALLY SEEM LIKE A THINLY VEILED ALLEGORY FOR BEING GAY BUT TO THIS DAY IM NOT SURE IF THAT WAS INTENTIONAL OR NOT BUT IT SURE SEEMS LIKE IT WAS. @ THE BBC MERLIN CREATORS WHAT IS THE TRUTH BECAUSE THERE WAS SOME INTERVI-

Basic Summary but like a bit more helpful: A BABY version of Merlin (and by baby I mean like 20 year old.) is sent from his small town to the big city the Kingdom of Camelot to find his destiny. Staying with the town physician and friend of his mom’s, Gaius, he ends up as both his assistant and personal manservant to Prince Arthur. But in a kingdom where magic is punished with death and the prince seems hell bent on getting himself into situations that are going to kill him, the young sorcerer has his more than his share of work cut out for him.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Primo supremo queerbaiting. Like, yeah, okay, it’s queerbaiting, you know it’s queerbaiting, but you watch some of the scenes and ur like okay. I know why I let this bait me. Obviously with a modern show, I would expect more, I would expect better, I would raise my standards, but I gotta admit. Some of these scenes are fuckin compelling as hell, and the subtext is like barely sub. Monster of the week shenanigans. Some awful CGI creatures but like a charming awful. Like the kind of awful that tells you their very limited budget was more focused on cool swords than realistic creatures. Episodic stories build into a more overarching plot, with things getting darker in season 4/5. Shitty father that end up eating shit and while the son of said father is rightfully conflicted and upset over the death it’s cathartic and victorious as all hell for the audience. Multiple hot evil women, and I love hot evil women. There’s also nice hot women, which is a bonus. These women don’t all immediately stupidly die, so that’s a nice change. Also like a LOT of sarcastic humor and shenanigans if u like Sass Merlin is there for u personally name a more iconic line than “Oh I’m sorry, how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?” AND THAT’S IN THE FIRST FUCKIN EPISODE brilliant amazing fantastic show stopping. Also you know those like dumb hijink episodes where like Dean was possessed by the spirit of a dog or some shit? You bet your bottom fuckin dollar BBC Merlin has those kinds of storylines. Also I know some people go to spn bc it had that HUGE fanbase and like BBC Merlin’s fanbase is still SURPRISINGLY poppin even though it’s been a decade since there was new content so like. Have fun!

Doctor Who but Specifically the RTD Era

Look I’m not here to say that the first four seasons of reboot doctor who are the only good doctor who or inherently better than all the rest (though the RTD era is my favorite personally) BUT when ur seekin that sweet sweet superwholock frenzy nostalgia, this is the ‘who’ that is being referred to. Also like. Stan 9. We should all collectively stan the ninth doctor. Chris Eccleston, the Objectively Best Famous Chris, deserved better.

Basic Summary: An immortal alien that goes by “The Doctor” travels across time and space with a variety of different companions, often to try and save the day or fix a (sometimes self created) mess. It’s distilled campy sci-fi with a family friendly tone that has made me cry on several occasions.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Monster of the week that, you guessed it, builds into bigger overarching plot style narrative. Fighting off the apocalypse, but like every couple of weeks because worlds are in danger a LOT. A semi-tragic romance that made people go absolutely buck fuckin wild bc pining n shit. Wamen, but they aren’t fridged. (actually for real though none of the main women die and I just think that’s really fun and flirty even though I could go on a COMPLETELY SEPARATE rant about the injustice of one of the character’s ending YES season 4 is my favorite season and one of my favorite pieces of media ever and I am currently actively recommending it to you YES im still fucking pissed over how it ended YES we exist) Specifically, a Wonderful and Very Excellent woman named Donna who goes on a spa trip that doesn’t end up going very well. That seems like a highly specific example, and it is, but it did happen in both shows. (Also, to anyone that continued watching SPN after like idk season 9 what happened to Donna? I always liked her and I know she became a recurring character so like DM whatever probably injustice was the end of her story line pls and thank you) I’m also extra specifically recommending for Supernatural Fans and also The World At Large: Season Four of Reboot Who. I rewatched it last year and it still goes so fucking hard. Donna Noble is the best character in existence. In regards to the appeal for SPN, personally I think the best part of SPN was when people who are soulmates went on adventures and tried to save the day and it was a good mix of banter and sincerity AND GUESS WHAT’S BASICALLY THE ENTIRETY OF SEASON 4 OF DOCTOR WHO. It’s so good y’all I wish Everything was about soulmates going on adventures and trying to save the day.

OKAY TV SHOWS DONE TIME FOR M O V I E S which I don’t have nearly as many recs for but uhh here goes

What We Do In The Shadows/ Shaun of the Dead

I’m lumping these two together bc my reasons for recommending them are largely the same, and I would call them tonally similar enough that if you like one you’ll probably like the other

Basic Summary (Shaun of The Dead): Uh-oh! London’s had a break out of some of that good ol’ zombieism. Shaun and friends decide to hunker down in a local bar, but they have to get there first. Will they survive? Will they fuck up some zom zoms? Who’s to say?

Basic Summary (What We Do In The Shadows): Some vampire roommates dick around. I think there’s technically, like, a plot, but it’s really just about some vampires Doin Their Thing. Vibin.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: This is kind of similar to the Community recommendation, in that supernatural had the opportunity to be one of those things that was both a parody of a genre but also just a really good example of the genre. WWDITS and SotD are both those things for vampire and zombly movies, respectively. Have the aesthetic and some of the themes of a horror but is not actually all that scary. Horror Comedy is a god tier genre and I don’t know why it’s not more widespread. Fun monsters/cast of characters in general, so at least one person in it is probably going to make you go “oh gender” ya know? With SotD you have the fantasy power trip that comes with like any piece of media that involves hunting monsters. With WWDITS I go “yep that’s how bisexuals dress” and I Will Not Clarify which character I’m talking about.

MINI REC ALERT: All of Taika Watiti’s filmography. Thor:Ragnarok is one of like 3 marvel movies that I consider genuinely fucking fantastic completely independent of the MCU and my own tendency to be like “hurr bdurr I love. Superheros”. For the one that is most tonally like Supernatural But Significantly Better and Written By Someone Competent I think I would say try out Hunt For The Wilderpeople. It’s got a reluctant curmudgeonly father figure and I KNOW some of you motherfuckers were so invested in spn when you were like 16 bc you had daddy issues. This is a callout post for my friend [REDACTED], who I should text to watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople, actually.

MINI REC ALERT X2!!!: Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’ve never seen it but it has both Winona Ryder AND Keanu Reaves so like. Goth bi rights.

Happy Death Day (and Happy Death Day 2 U)

happy death day was one of those movies that I saw the trailer, went “eh”, heard other people say it was great, watched, and went holy fuck this slaps. Not nearly as much of a slasher film as the trailers implied if im remembering the trailer correctly

Basic Summary: Our main character Tree keeps waking up on the day she was murdered. The day resets every time that she dies. That’s right, it’s a time loop storey babey!!!!!!!!!!!

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: If you were anything like me you were foolishly lulled into supernatural for way longer than you should’ve been on the promise that the characters would idk like grow and change and become better and learn lessons and some of that would be through the power of receiving love and kindness. You know. Like how good writers would do it especially if their main characters are kind of dicks that really should make some changes. Well, Happy Death Day fucking delivers on that promise in SPADES. It’s about growth! It’s about change! It’s about making the active decision to become a better person and putting effort into doing so! There’s heavy themes of like grief and trauma and acknowledging them and facing them head on in order to move on and the negative consequences of refusing to do so and just trying avoid it until it goes away. There’s a romance that makes my dumb little self do the pleading face emoji. Tree is also one of the only good asshole with a heart of gold characters. I also think media is improved by having at least one character that is a Good Good Boy (note: Good Good Boy character does not have to be a man.) and Happy Death Day has Carter. Oh on that note: Tree Voice: I’ve only had character for (the same repeating over and over) a day but if anything happens to him I’ll kill everyone here and then myself. Also the movie is funny so like hell yeah.

that’s all I got for relevant movies right now

BOOK RECS

jk i’m illiterate. Everyone should feel free to go ahead and add their own suggestions for this section The best I can do is uhhhh I think y’all would probably like Mira Grant’s novels, particularly the Newsflesh stories, bc sibling dynamics. Also the book The Haunting of Hill House is really good. Ballad of Black Tom slaps? There’s of course the Good Omens novel that the show was based on. I’m about to recommend some podcasts after this section which will include to Welcome to Nightvale because of course it will and the tie in novels for that slap, especially It Devours!, and I’m pretty sure they work as stories even if you know nothing about the podcast. Also also I think you should read “The Long Way to A Small, Angry Planet” by Becky Chambers It’s not thematically similar to supernatural at all but it’s one of my all time favorite sci fi novels and only like four people have read it which is a goddamn TRAVESTY.

Anyway yeah that’s it that’s all there is. Onto the medium that is like books but I can fold laundry or cook while consuming their narratives.

PODCAST RECS

Okay so this is getting uhhh wicked long so I’m gonna limit myself to only three full blown recs and a

mini rec

Alice Isn’t Dead

Fuck me running this show is so good. Literally hands down my all time favorite (and scariest!) horror podcast. Mamma mia, that’s a good fuckin story. The Book version is also good and has fewer Weird events but some further character development so I recommend them both.

Basic Summary: After her wife Alice disappears mysteriously, Keisha takes up a job as a long haul trucker, traveling all across America in order to find her, but ends up finding so much. Pursued by a deadly creature she calls The Thistle Man, the stakes of her journey are raised.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: okay so I have a lost of bullet points of things that appealed to me specifically about supernatural and how no other shows covers all of them which sucks bc it means I basically Yearn for a show that’s supernatural but good. Alice isn’t Dead, however, hits the most of these bullet points AND is so fucking good. It has monster hunting. It has stopping a cataclysmic event BUT also discussion of the cyclical nature of events such as these and how the fight never truly ends but you can make some fucking progress nonetheless. It has a central gay romance that’s actually a central gay romance. It’s the ONLY show on this list that really hits that the weird and dark underside of americana vibe but specifically the americana of not like suburbs and shit but that eerie haunted feeling you get when you’re hours into a late night drive on open roads with no civilization around and an expansive sky and it just Seems like something should be watching you. Have you ever been out for a walk at midnight and encountered a deer and you looked into each other’s eyes and it felt like it was telling you a message that you couldn’t possibly hope to parse? Have you ever felt an incredible sense of deja vu eating in a restaurant you couldn’t have possibly been in before, because you’ve been to a thousand diners a thousand times just like one, and there’s an incredibly sense of homogeneity even though you’re 2000 miles away from anyone and anything that could possibly know you? Have you ever traveled to an area that seems to be stuck in a bubble of time, the only thing that shows any evidence of having aged past 2006 being yourself, and you wonder how your cell phone even works around here? THAT’S the spooky americana I’m fuckin talking about! Messed up road trips! Too much goddamn space! America is scary because it’s big and Filled With Things but also Not Enough Things! Fuck yeah!!!!! That time bubble fuckin EXISTS in Wyoming the most recent song on the radio I heard was fuckin Hey Soul Sister!

Also has a thing where like are there even good guys and bad guys in a conflict or is it all just one umbrella nightmare that you’re trying to stand against in anyway possible (u kno..like how the overarching structures of both heaven and hell were kinda fucked in spn? No spoilers but similar shit be happenin in Alice Isn’t Dead). Exploration of what makes someone into a monster, like how do you go down that path? Also this is the only show on this whole damn list that southern gothic music really suits it so points for that.

The Magnus Archives

You know I had to do it to ‘em.

Basic Summary: Jonathan Sims has just become the Head Archivist at the Magnus Institute, a “research” “facility” that looks into paranormal/esoteric/unexplained phenomena.

John Mulaney Voice, Again: Nobody knows what the archivist is going to do next, least of all the archivist. He’s never been in an archives before, he’s just as confused as you are.

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Oh fuck this document is over 5k long I said I wasn’t gonna do this hhhhh so lipton lightning round: Slowburn Gay Romance but Actually Canon, Monster Hunting but Hey What Even Is A Monster Anyway, Acts Somewhat like a Loosely Connected Horror Anthology until it DOESNT, Little Things Build to Bigger Narrative, Characters Be Goin Through It (On God These People Need Therapy), Trying to Prevent/Fix The Apocalypse (X2!!!), Smug Asshole Big Bad, Horror as a Metaphor For Various Shit, Basically if you thought that the Men of Letter concept slapped and you think it should’ve been the whole damn show including being Deeply British you would probably really fuckin like TMA. Also if ur like the ideal piece of media is a horror tragedy but also like it’s a wacky sitcom but also also fuck cops. U will like tma.

Welcome to Nightvale

IF ANY 2012 TUMBLR FANDOM DESERVES TO MAKE A MASSIVE COMEBACK AND BE EVERYWHERE AGAIN AND ABSOLUTELY FLOOD MY DASH IT’S WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE WHY DID WE ABANDON THE SHOW THAT TREATED US THE MOST KINDLY DID YOU KNOW THAT EPISODES 108-110 ARE THE BEST FUCKING BUILT UP NARRATIVE REVEAL THAT I HAVE WITNESSED IN MY LIFE DID YOU KNOW THAT IT CONTINUED TO BE REALLY FUCKING GOOD AFTER MOST PEOPLE STOPPED LISTENING DID YOU KNOW CECIL AND CARLOS ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A DOG AND A TODDLER NOW BECAUSE OF ALL THE GAY PODCAST PROTAGONISTS CECIL GERSHWIN PALMER LOVE OF MY LIFE ELDRITCHIAN CHEERLEADER AND CERTIFIED BIMBO KEEPS FUCKIN WINNIN BABY. DID YOU KNOW THAT CECIL THINKS PEANUT BUTTER IS A ROCK.

Basic Summary: Welcome to the sleepy desert town of Ņ̶̏ight V̶͚̰̮͗̔̊̊ale! Community radio how host Cé̵̟͚͕̗̞̙͂͑̽̄́c̵̤̼̞͈̪͓̍̽̋̚̕͜il Pǎ̵̧̨̢͚̻̈̂̄̇͐̇̊̀̆ͅl̶͚͎͕͉͖̬͓͑́̐̒̍̿̈́͢͜͝ͅm̸̧͙̟̖̠̳̬͋́͋́͌̚̚ͅȩ̙̖͎̖͂́̒͐͜͞r̢̢̛̰̻̮̺̩͙̼̈́͋̀͘ is here to k̠̠̰̦͙̯̥̎̄̆͌̎̀̿̔̌̚ê̷̢̬̥̞̩̯̘͒̽̈̓͐̂̔̍e̶̡̝̗̺̫̪̜͆̓̿̈͌͌̆͒͞ͅp̵̹̗̬̼̠̬͙̏͐͐̉̅͊͊́͟͞ͅͅ ỷ̛͙̞̦̦͖̑̉̌̎͞͡͡͝ͅo̧̧̥͎̻̥̲͇͋́́̔̈͌͞ǔ̸̬̯̫͇̦̮͕̤̲̯̽̔̀̔͆͋̈́͘̚ up to date all the local happenings, including w̸̢̢̢̧̡̡͍͖̻̳̹̼̼̰̬̭̱͔̲͙͍̰̠̥̺̝͖̺̖̼̮̼̞̳̞̜͉̤̯͇̖̳͖̠̙̺̲̤͇͈͚͓̮̭̱̭̩͚̟̥̬̟̻̝̼̖͚̘͐̆̅̂̃̈́͆͊̉̏͒́̈́̋͗͑̄̉́̐̌́̿̌͛̾̎̊̾̃̈́̉̔̍̐͛̕͘̚͜͜͠͠é̵̢̡̧̨̨̡̧̨̡̛̹̥̥̞̮̯͙͈̻̝͓͖͙̦̰͍̖̜̲̰̞͎͈̭̯̳͕̗͓͈̭̫̼̯̪̞̯̰̲̘̭͎̪̱̗̝̝̞̤̱͉͙̯͎̬͎̙̜̗͉̩̦͕̪̳͇͙̺̙̰̠͚͎̜̠͔̬͎̺̣͕̜̊̓̃̐̂́͂̎̐̾̔̽̀̉́̍̊̂̿̎͂͐̎̐̄̍̔̋̐̃͗̈́͂̀̒̊̎͘͘̕̚̕͜͝͝͝͠ͅͅa̸̡̧̡̡̨̡̨̛̛͙̣̘̳͎͖̥̝̟̱̩̥͙͉̝̲̙̮̩̩̹̱͔͎̥̹̻̜͚̭̬̳͚̤̙̖̯͎̱̫̞̪̻͖̱̞͔̭̻̺͚͚̯̬͓͓̳͇̳̦͓̞͈̮̤̭̣͉̲̞͚̘͗̆̃͌̅̍͊̓̈̇̌̒͊͑̊̏̊͌̈̓̿͗̒̏̒͊͒̏̃̎̒̀̅̾̍̀͘͘͜͝͠ͅt̵̢̡̨̧̧̛̛̛̯̤͓̘̻̤͓̪̰͔̪̝̫͎̻͔͈͎͔͙͕͈̰͓͍̀̏͒̆͋̈́̈́͂̔͋͆͂̅͗̍̆̍̆̔̑͊̏̈͒́̽͊́̿͂́̓͛̽͐͌̌̐̈̇̃̓̆̍̅̃̔̚̕͜͝͝͝ͅͅh̸̨̨̡̢̢̡̢̧̡̧̢̡̨̡̭̜̬̬̙͕̗̙̻̯̠̘͙̻̥͉͚̼̗͚͇͉̰͍̥͉̗͎̬̫͖͉͔̼̮̯̞̫̬̟̻͉̖̙̥̫͖̬͚̟̜̭͇͎̭̘̝̲̤͕͎̰̭̗̯̮̤̙̙̯͍̞̭͚͔͎̞̹̲̟͉̩̭̖̱̠͍̺͈̟̩̋̆̈́͆̍̆̄̏͜ͅͅȇ̸̢̢̨̨̧̛̜͍̺͎̬̪͙̻̝̣͓͈̺̩̳̟̲̠̣͈͎͎͈͉̙̪͖̳̺͇̹̊̍͊͑̿͊̌͛̿̓͊̾̀͂͛̉͆̾̽͆̈̏͛̊͛̍̈́̇͋̔͂̑͐̂̿͊̽͑͘̚͘͝͝͠͝ͅͅŕ̵̨̡̨̨̢̧̡̧̨̘̟͙̦̲̲̪̦̙̼̠̳͚̞̦̞͖͚͇̳͖̲̭͕̜̫̳̖̙͖͉͎̘̘̤̠͈̬͕̝̻͚̥͍͕̠̥͙̙̪̖̯͍̘̘̲̣̹̜̪̲̭̟̮̫̖̤̰͔̩̩͉̲͚̟̝̦̬̪̘̬̮̱͔̻̦̼̃̐̂͋̐̅̋͒̉͛́̅̈́̒̒͆̑̆͊̒͒̀̍̈́̍͌̍̏̔͋͌̒̍̌͛̓̈̂̐̕͘͘͜͜͝͝͝ͅͅͅ ̶̢̡̨̛̠͇̹̯͕͍̻̟̼̼̗̩̱̗̙̱̥̜̬̫̜͎͉̺̣͓̟̯̱͖̣̞̠̝̥͍̲̳̙̠͔̹̘̲̲̻̖̈́̊͋͜͜ą̵̡̧̟͕̬̳̜͈͈̳̝̜̣̬͔͈͈͎͉͍̯̟̞̺͎̝͇̰̥͖̬̯͙̤̬̼̲̦̯̭͓̠̺̳̱̰̮̎͋͆̈́͌͆̎̉̓̇̐͋͋́̃̉̈̄̏̓̉̿̅̒̉̒̉͂͛̄̀̇̒͊͛́͊̎́͆̌̆́̌͂̈́̽̋͛͗̑̊̀́̍͊̌͆͊͐͆̅̒̊̉̾̄͛̑̕͘͘͘͘͝͝͝͝͠͠͝n̸̡̛̛̛̛̛̙͎̬̦̠̼͓͈̝̾̍͑͛̅̒̾́̌̍͛̇̋̇̓̏͛̔͛̈́͆̿̌͐̿͊̿́͒̍̃̀̈͐̐̆͐̉̒̂̉̀̅̇̾͋̍͒̋̈̌̿͒͐̍́͗̀̌̌̚̕̕̕͘̚͘͘̚͜͠͝͝͝d̴̡̢̢̛̛̛̺̠̳̬͎̞̲̣̲̱̳̪̹͉̝̠̱̗̙̫̠̹̼̙̝͉̲̟̮̙̙̮̻̹͈̦̙̞͚̜̙̖̞͓̙̭͉̃̽̌̅̔̾̈́̒̽͑́̒͋̓̈́͆͋̽̒̃̽̋̐͌͂̍͑́̽̋̍͗̋͗͂̅̽̈̈̾͐̄̃̕̕͜͠͠͝͠͝ͅͅ ̵̡̡̢̛̛̗͚͍̺͇̲̳̯͓̰͍̙̮̙̜̟̞̣̼͕̝͔͙̺̫͈͈̠̻̘̱͍̦̭͔͈̤̺̗̮͕̦̞̘͍̯̻̝͓̤̳̫͔̩͉̬̈́͋̈́̐͒́̔́́̿̓̆͐̎͆̇͒̄̈̿̓̑̾̏̔̿͊̌͆͒̒͊̓̅̓́̔̅̀̀̀̃̿̂̑͂͆̅̎̾̏̓̂̈́͛͌̇̾͌͐̈̂̆͐̅̓̍̓̃̆͗̃͛̏̒̌̀̅͊́̽̐̆̿́̌͘͘̚̕͘̕̕͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͠t̷̢̥͓̄͗̾̄̅̚͜r̵̨̡̨̧̧̢̛̛̛̛̛͍͙͚̥̱̞̜̦̜̼̺͉̠̬͎̰̻̜̼̫̤͓͖͖̤͇̞̥̖̈́͊̆̓͊̑̑̋̒̈́̔̆͆́̐͛͑͊͋̇̈́̓̑̍̏͐͛̽̋̎͑̃̈́͒̇̂̇̌͂̀̍̊̇̓̋̈́̌̏̕͘̚̕̚͝͝͠ǎ̴̡͓͓̯̘̥̱̱͖̦̺͓̘͉͖̞̟̦͈̜̥̰̘̞͈̦̠̼̯̙̭̼͚̟̖̲̠̝̜̐̅͆̏̈́̍́͂̃̾͑̓͋̽̄̾́̾̆̾͒͋̎͂̈́͘̕̕̚͜ͅͅf̷̢̡̡̧̢̨̡̧̢̢̧̡̧̫͖̖͇̲̫̮͕͉͓̩̪̳̹̩͎̖̟̤̤̲̟̪̫̻̻̖̟̦͉̼͎͖̭͍͖͎̖̳̳͙̜͉̝̘̺̖͚̙͉͕͙̯͖̞͚̮̲̻͉͙̺̭͓͎̤͙̦̦̺̯͕̜̰͍̳̙̦͉̪̥́͋̓̅̀͋͐̀̄̊̆̉̒̐͒̀̏̈̇̊̉̆̐̏̾̀̀̓͛͆̍̾͗͌̀̄̔͒̀̍̈́͆̔̒̑̏̍̏͆́̾̐̂͋̂̔̂́̓̓̌͌̉͛́̒̐̽̏́̑͊́̌̆̂̑͋̇̈́͌̑̿̅͗̚̕͘̕̚͜͠͝͝͠͠f̴̨̨̛̹͌̂̓͌͛̀͑̾̓̍͗̽͆̉̊͗̇́̍͌̊͐̔̈́̊̇͆̄̃̑̕̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͠i̴̧̡̢̢̧̢̨̨̧̧̧̛̛͎̗̳̦̘̙͓̦̙͔̜̼̘͇͇̺̭͉̠̩̟̤̥̘͙̤̩͔̪̱̻͈̪̼̼̞̠͎̟̹͕̻̭̤̪̲͕̟̺̻̻͖͕͚̣͇̖̰̝̩͈̤͕͇͕̝͙̙̪͔̗̫͇͎̙̲̲͖̗̘͉̲̣̤͎̔̐̆͒̄̈́̀̎̃̃̅͆̌̈́̽̈́̅̈́̑̄̇͒͐̀̐̀̒̍̀̓͌͗̓̽́͗̓̎͂͛̅̑̔̀͛̈́̽̾̃̊͊͆̄̍͑̍̆̌̾͗̄̊̽̉̅̆̀̎̀͑̿̎̋̄̆̃͐̾̏͛͒̍̋̅͘̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅc̷̛̛͚̝̻̣̞̓́̃́̀̃̓͗͌̂͛́̒̊͑̓͆̇̈́͑̏̆̀͌̑͂͂̄͌̉̔̋́̎͒̿͗͒͛̇͛̿̎̍̕̕̕͝͝͝͝͝ ̴̢̧̢̡̨̢̡̨̡̢̢̛̺̘̹̯̤̩̘̯͔̞̟̬̠̣̟̻̥̜̤͔̥͕̠̥̞͎̗̩̱̮͉͔͎̲̯̱̙̜̥̳̮͔̦̣͖͔̜͉̗̪̳̹̦̤͇̣̙͕̯̫̖̝̼̹͍̠͎͓̗͎̦͓̲̯̱̠̰͇̮̹͔̝͉͙̹̜̹͈̹̥͖̣̳̲͖̓́͌̈́̈́̀͌̄͂̌̾́̍̔̊̓̿͋͂͋̈́̋́́̒̓̀̒̃͂̀͑̐͛̆̆͒̈́̅̿͊͌̍͗̌̌͆̂͌́̉̏̒̓͊̾̒̓̋̽͐̏̾͘̕͜͝͠͝ͅͅr̸̨̢̛̪̞̬͓͔̥̤̣͔̭̥̙͉̦̗̠̳̩͙̂̈́͑͑̿̋̓̀͋͆̋̕͝͝ë̴̢̡̨̬͈͉̖̞͔͎͓͖̼̘̬͕̰͈̥͈̝̩͎͉͉̫̜͚͕̤͔̟̯͓͎̟͙̜̭̩̗̮͎̗̤͇̝̩͎̜̺̯͕͇̝͎̯͙̖͙̮̗̮̘́̑͑͛̂̅̄̌̽̓̒̾̿͆̏̏͐͛̾̂̃͑͆̅̄̿͋̅͂̈́̽͋͒̎͐̒̓͆̌̉͑͊́̀̈̾͛̋͑̋̎̈̀̽̀͊̏͘͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅp̴̧̧̡̢̢̢̛̛̛͚̟͓̖̭̪̻̪̲̬̥̙̥̰̼̹͎͕̪̞̮̺̰̬̘̫̤͉̦͙̮̖̙̹̻͔̖̮̲̞̣̻̜̠͇̬͚̱̦̼̲̮̀̂͌̍̈̒̍̋̌̏͐̓͛̉̂̈̀͑̈́͊͗͋͗́̂̎̎̃͆͒̅̑̇́̈͐̾̀̔̒̉͑͒̅̓̈́̋͋̀̍̄̿̌̀̉͆̇̔̈́͗̋̄̓̇͗̎̉̆͊̒͗̚̕͘͘̕̕̚͜͜͝͝͠͠͠͠͠ͅͅͅơ̶̢̡̧̨̡̛̛͔̦̼̰̠̯̰̟̲̣̜͙̲͙̪̱̱͕̺̪͈͉̺̻̙̥̲̩̲̩͔̠͚̩͓̞̠̯̟̫̣̗̦̰͉͚͙̺͎̼͖̥̙͈̯̲̝̞͎̻͕̮͔̰̖͔̭͙̩̼͔̫̹̘͓͔̜̘͍̍̅̄͋͑̋̍̊̉̄̈̽̈͐̀͌͐̆͊͂̐̋̃̎͆͛̐̀̂̿̈́͂́̈̌͐̇̀̒͋͑͐́͌̐̇̊͆̀͂͋̏́͋͆̏͗͂͑̂̓̽͘͘̚̕̕̕̕̚͘͜͜͠͝͝ͅͅͅr̴̨̨̨̧̨̛̘͕͈͔͙̠̬̯̩̗̰̗̬̦͈̗̝̣͓͓̟͕͙͈̠̘̻͓̭̝̘̦̦͓̭̘͙̻̙̼̩̰̝͈̱̝̱̬͉͙̣̖̮̲͈̙̱̩̣͕̦̰̮͔͈͓̙̮͍̳̟̠̞͎̱̣̰͕̩̝̲̝͐́́̍̈͐͋̐̑̌͋̓̈́̈͗̿̈̈́͗̑̚͜͜͜͜͜͝ͅͅţ̴̢̨̧͇͉͎̣̬̣̝̗̬̹͇̮̞̈́̐̌̇̈́̌͊̐̅̂̌̂͒͌́̈͌̂̊͗̍̿͑͋̎̓͂̀̎̎͒̾̏̒͌̃̄͋̌̾̍̈́̐̏͑̊̍͑͆̉̓́̆̌̾̓͊̊̈̑͘̚̕͘͘̕͝͝͝͝͝s̴̢̢̡̛̬̹͚̻͉̦̦̣̦̠̜͕̤̳͓͙̟̬͕̘̦̿͗̉̏̒͆̓̄͊͌͛͂͑̒̃͛͘͜͝͝!

Shared elements with supernatural that you might Vibe with: Honestly, probably bc Nightvale and Alice are by the Same Dudes, a lot of these points are the same as Alice Isn’t Dead, but it’s less scawy and more funney. Also hits the “horror, but make it kind of a sitcom” vibes. Doesn’t have the same road trip vibes, but DOES capture the exact weirdness of South Western USA, so I’m still giving it “fucked up americana” credit. If you’ve never been to New Mexico ur like this is an exaggeration clearly no desert town is subject to like ACTUAL cosmic horror and unexplainable sights but I’m telling you New Mexico is just Like That. (I highly recommend visiting the land of enchantment if you ever get the oppurtunity it is a deeply odd and wonderfully unsettling experience.) Look man it’s gay it’s a horror comedy cecil has a wonderfully soothing voice and it hates capitalism so fucking much like oh my god so much what more could you want.

MINI REC ALERT: Wolf 359! I have nothing deep to say about this I just like it and my gut tells me that y’all would enjoy it too I know there isnt much for physical descriptions in the show but I know in my heart that the main character is so so pretty and so so stupid. I KNOW yall like some himbos that experience character growth.

Okay since It’s my party and I’ll speak if I want to rapid fire list of podcasts I just like and want more people to listen to even though I’m behind on like all of them shhhhh: The Penumbra Podcast, BomBARDed, Dungeons and Daddies, Stellar Firma, Wonderful!

SONG RECS

okay these aren’t like replacement recs or anything they’re just really good and I almost certainly would have put them on some sort of supernatural playlist in 2013 but I don’t, like, have a good playlist for them now so I’m subjecting y’all to them also they all have the youtube link for ease of access

Woah There Kimmy- Felix Hagan & the Family

Devil’s Backbone- The Civil Wars

Blood On My Name- The Brothers Bright

Awake O Sleeper- The Brothers Bright

The Bottom of the River- Delta Rae

Old Number 7- The Devil Makes Three

The Bullet- The Devil Makes Three

In Hell I’ll Be In Good Company- The Dead South

Bartholomew- The Silent Comedy

Pomegranate Seeds- Julian Moon

Curses- The Crane Wives

Tongues & Teeth -The Crane Wives

OKAY THAT’S IT! THAT’S ALL FOLKS! FUCK!

#long post #if you didn't want this blame of-mice-and-mentality for enabling me posting #supernatural

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jenneferofjengaberg · 3 years

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Supernatural 4x11 “Family Remains” Rewatch

A standard cold open. A dude is murdered by a scary looking girl in a locked room. MOTW episode then.

Dean is working instead of endlessly discussing a soul-shattering trauma that can never be forgotten or fixed. This always seemed like a healthy coping method to me, but wth do I know.

Oh yes, finally the Supernatural/Toy Story crossover we’ve all been waiting for, where Sam and Dean finally gank Sid and stop his reign of plastic terror:

A quarrelsome American family shows up to look at their new house. The uncle is a stock level douchebag without even opening his mouth.

The boys warn them off with some very sketch “county code enforcement” nonsense. Oh, you’ll give them a fine, Dean? Terrifying.

This episode is another one with Stephen King vibes, especially the cleaning lady that they interview. She’s got a real Dolores Claiborne thing going on.

There’s something wrong with this family. They all seem to referencing some recent bad times and hoping, but not really believing, that moving will somehow fix all their problems. Yikes.

I knew it! This is a Supernatural/Toy Story crossover! Andy is dead?!

The daughter gets her hand licked by…NOT a dog, and all hell breaks loose. There are accusations of molestation, a middle of the night county code enforcement visit, and the lights suddenly go out.

It’s been like ten minutes and Dean and Sam still have not explained that they are not “county code enforcement”. All while doing shit like screaming about their stolen guns, saying terrifying nonsense like “this ghost is hunting us”, and pouring rock salt all over the house. This family must be so confused lmao.

This is why that “we have to burn ALL the remains” thing was always a huge plot hole. Your average person leaves a whole lot of “remains” around, if remains are classified as “genetic material belonging to that person”. If so, it should technically be nearly impossible to destroy any ghost. I guess when my hairbrush ends up in a landfill somewhere it’ll be keeping my ass on this earth until kingdom come.

Of course, it’s not a ghost. It’s just a regular fucked up human being, which on Supernatural means it’s going to be about 40 times as traumatic as any regular monster episode. This checks out, tbh.

This scene with Dean and Unfun Uncle Buck crawling around inside the walls is so dark, I can’t see shit. I get atmosphere, but if you can’t actually see anything at all, it takes away the suspense and just feels confusing and annoying.

Dean rarely looks afraid of actual ghosts or monsters, but when on cases involving humans (eg. The Benders), he sometimes does, which is really interesting from a character standpoint.

While he delivers the bad news to the rest of the family that Uncle Ted is dead, you can just tell that Dean is adding this to the long list of horrible shit he’s personally responsible for. He uses a lot of “I” statements. “I had to carry him out”, “I couldn’t get to him in time”, and “I shouldn’t have left him alone”. There’s literally no need to say that stuff, it’s not even entirely accurate, he’s just torturing himself out loud.

This is obviously a Dean centered episode, but Sam is like, barely in this episode. He just sort of stands in the background of every scene looking very serious.

We finally find out that Andy was brutally murdered by his Buzz Lightyear action figure after it was possessed by the ghost of Sid’s little sister, Sid’s first human victim. Ha ha, just kidding, Andy died in a car accident.

Sam and Dean finally confront the very unpleasant elephant in the room. The girl who’s been trying to kill them is the result of some kind of horrifying father daughter incest/rape situation, and she’s been locked up in the walls of the house for her entire life. I have feelings about turning a trauma victim into a literal monster for a Supernatural episode, but it’s kind of par for the course with this show.

Dean says he can’t blame her for killing her captor, which like, yeah, obviously, but Sam is like “I’m sure her life was hell but that doesn’t mean she gets a free pass for a murder spree”. Uh? What? That’s not even what this is. From her point of view, she’s defending herself and the only home she’s ever known from people who must feel like very real threats to her. She needs intensive psychiatric care, not judgement.

It’s too dark to see anything again. The Winchesters really need to invest in some night-vision goggles.

Plot twist: turns out there’s two of these poor children. Dean kills the brother. It’s clearly self-defense, he was moments away from being stabbed, but it still feels kind of icky. Why did they write this episode?

The dad kills the girl. *sigh*

Dean talking about how he relates to these dead, tortured children is just...How he’s “worse” than they are because Hell dealt him so much pain and torture that when he got a chance to deal it out himself, he liked it. There’s actually some good stuff in here about how trauma changes you as a person (it literally rewires your brain) and about “good victims” and “bad victims”, but I’m not sure it would come through enough to your average uninformed viewer to justify the framing of two trauma survivors as monsters that had to be hunted. I feel like a better version of this story could make the same points while “saving” at least one of the lost children.

#text #kate rewatches spn #4x11 #long post #incest tw #rape tw

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alleiradayne · 4 years

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LONG JACKET A DESTIEL-ISH SERIES

Over the last few years, I’ve seen some of the craziest shit hunting with the Winchesters and their angel, Castiel. But this story right here? This isn’t about monsters. This isn’t about the battle between good and evil, heaven and hell. I understand all that.

It’s people I don’t get. People are crazy. And we do crazy things when we’re in love.

PART VII - LONG JACKET

Summary: Meanwhile, back at the Bunker... Warnings/Tags: FLOOOOOOFS Characters/Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Female!Reader Word Count: 880

Bacon.

Roused from what felt like a century of sleep, my stomach roared, beyond hungry. Upon returning to the Bunker after twelve rounds with a succubus, I hardly remembered taking a shower and promptly passing out in the middle of the day. But I had done just that and slept until the next morning.

And yet, I lingered in bed. Sore muscles protested every minuscule shift, injuries cried out in agony if I merely brushed them, and trauma prodded at the mental barriers built to keep the madness at bay. I drifted in that liminal space between asleep and awake, lost in an endless sea of doubt.

I had nearly failed. And not only myself, but the three people I cared most deeply about. They had risked their lives to save me in my moment of weakness. Why had I struggled so severely that I had courted death during the entire encounter?

“What?!”

Castiel’s dumbfounded question echoed down the hall and through my door. After that, I laid wide awake, staring at the ceiling and hoping to hear more. But only a low baritone rambled on, too quiet to determine the words. Castiel interjected again with another astonished remark, but not clear enough to discern.

After several minutes of similar conversation passed, my curiosity won out. I pushed through the pain, rolled out of bed, and tossed on a sweatshirt and sweatpants over my minimal pajamas. In the hallway, the discussion—argument—grew louder.

“But that doesn’t even make any sense!” Dean declared.

“Most things I do rarely make sense to you, Dean,” Castiel retorted. “And I’m not surprised that, once again, I have managed to—”

The curt clip of Castiel’s thought spurred me to a sprint. I feared that Dean had sucker-punched Castiel in a fit of rage again. But when I rounded the corner for the kitchen door, I leaped over the threshold and slid to a halt.

Bacon sizzled in the pan on the stove, hissing and popping pleasantly. But what stopped me dead in my tracks was not the unattended bacon. Before the stove, Dean stood in his robe and apron, and Castiel stood directly in front of him in his typical suit and trench coat, their bodies flush.

Dean had apparently grasped Castiel by his head and, in an effort to shut him up, kissed him.

“Hey, I hope you used the turkey bacon this time, I didn’t spend—”

I reached up to cover Sam’s mouth as he rounded the corner behind me. Beneath my fingers, his jaw dropped as he spotted Dean and Castiel across the kitchen, lips locked and clamoring for more.

“Do they know you’re—”

“Sam, do not ruin this for me.”

At that, Sam quieted and allowed me my moment of zen. He kissed my cheek and whispered he would be in his room when I finished watching my soap opera. He hoped I’d spend some time with him that afternoon, wished me well, then left me to my devices.

A fleeting moment of worry lasted but a few more seconds. A tiny part of me felt a little intrusive, but I hoped that, after all the conversations I’d had with Dean and Castiel, they would not mind indulging me just once. So I lingered there by the doorway as they shared their first kiss, their first tender touches, their first sighs and moans, and breathless gasps. Sam would need to thank them later.

When they parted, Dean stated, “That’s the only time you’re going to see that.”

“I’m well aware,” I replied.

“Good,” he retorted. “Breakfast?”

I strode to the table and sat on the bench. “What doesn’t make any sense?”

Dean froze halfway to the table with the plate of still sizzling bacon. “His clothes.”

Nothing out of the ordinary stood out about Castiel’s suit or trench coat. “I’m sorry, what did I miss?”

“I tried to explain why I’d worn different clothes last weekend in Salem,” Castiel stated as he sat across from me.

“It’s just…” Dean started, “How was I supposed to know what you meant?”

I raised my hand and said, “Hi, mediocre psychologist here. Maybe you knew what it meant, but you were scared to admit that. Not just to yourself, but to the rest of us as well?”

Dean scowled at the plate of bacon, but that glower softened, replaced by a small smile. He regarded me first, then Castiel, and said, “I love you.”

Unable to resist, I sighed, “Aw, that’s so sweet! Look, you’re blushing—”

“Alright, that’s it. Here’s your bacon,” Dean said as he dumped a pile of bacon on my plate. He stood then and pointed to his plate. “This is my—our bacon. C’mon, Cas.”

Castiel rose from the table and asked, “Where are we going?”

“To my—our room!” Dean declared as he strode through the kitchen.

A broad grin I’d never seen on Castiel spread across his lips. He followed Dean from the kitchen as he asked, “Why?!”

“To get some peace and fucking quiet!”

I popped a bacon chunk in my mouth before Castiel leaned back into the kitchen and said, “Hey, Y/N?”

A quick swig of coffee washed down my food. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Another piece of bacon found its way to my mouth.

“Love you, too, Cas.”

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM!

LONG JACKET MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

#alleiradayne writes #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester/reader #sam winchester x reader

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ficclique · 4 years

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Fic Clique hosts choices for our top fics of the decade - as featured in our Minisode from Jan 3rd.

Brenna’s choices:

Honorable Mentions:

Worldwide Lonesome by loindexter (BTS)

2018, 39k, Yoongi/Jin

The biggest gut-punch I’ve ever felt from a character confession. The Jin of this fic has stuck with me every day since reading it. This fic examines sexuality in a way that made me feel seen & I love that.

Timeshare by Astolat (HP)

2016, 14k, Draco/Harry

This is sort of a stand-in for all of astolat’s drarry fic, which as a bundle are one of my top fics for the decade. They are fics that feel like instant-classics and the variety of characterizations, stories and tropes helped establish astolat as perhaps my all time favorite fic author. Timeshare won out above the others because it’s one of the fics that helped us decide to do this podcast! Thank you Timeshare!

Top 5 picks:

The Student Prince, by Fayjay (Merlin)

2010, 145k, Merlin/Arthur

A fic that has defined fanfiction for me. Perhaps the fic that first convinced me to love fanfiction. Something I keep coming back to and have reread numerous times. Funny, heartfelt, just different enough from the canon versions of characters. Perhaps the only University AU I will ever fully love.

The Love Song of the North American Douchebag, by Gyzym (Star Trek RPF)

2013, 25k, Chris/Zach

If you want to hear me (and my lovely co-hosts) discuss this fic in depth, then I recommend listening to Episode 6! However, one of our listeners also submitted this as a top fic of the decade, so I’m going to add what the lovely Scout said:

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I HOPE I CAN SWEAR. I'm not even in this fandom. The world building is just THAT good. It's one of my highlights *because* of its power to draw me in as a standalone. So much fucking talent in the transformative work community. The banter, characterization, sardonic-ness of this – international impact baby!”

Not Easily Conquered (series), by dropdeaddream & whatarefears (MCU)

2015, 117k, Steve/Bucky

An incredibly, precise, gut-wrenching trilogy. Each part is astounding both together and apart. A devastating exploration of love and dedication. One of those fics that created a Fandom Moment. I sobbed through the entirety of part 2 when I first read it. Womb to tomb, sweetheart.

Azoth by zeitgeistic (HP)

2013, 88k, Draco/Harry

A stunning exploration of magic beyond JKR’s universe. A timeless coming together of two characters. A frankly genius use of a plot device (and something as simple as a school project) to foster an incredibly touching and meaningful relationship, one in which they are not able to find what they need to complete their task until they find what they need in each other. ALCHEMY BABY!

Honeysuckle Arch by junkshopdisco (1d)

2015, 46k, Niall/Harry

Perhaps the most I’ve ever related to a character in fic. The Niall of this fic lives in my heart, and I feel like reading him helps me understand myself, and everytime I come back to it I understand him better too. It’s a touching portrayal of a character coming to terms with their sexuality in a way that feels completely grounded and who is surrounded by characters who love them, even if they don’t always know how to show it.

Nicole’s choices:

Honorable Mentions:

Protostellar by ninamondays

bts, 64k, pub 2019, Namjoon/Jungkook & Taehyung/Jimin

Space, cryogenics, fate, reincarnation, class struggles, revolution, climate change, character death. Having hope is punk rock. Processing grief is a slow and ugly process. [deep breath] Have I ever felt so profoundly touched by a fic while I was reading it?

the other thing by cornfields

hockey rpf, 16k, pub 2015, Jamie/Tyler

An absolutely unflinching look at personal accountability and internalized homophobia. What happens when your self-hatred has collateral damage? It’s about healing but it’ll fucking hurt first. Bleached out vibes. Makes texas feel very big, and the world feel very, very small. A story I’d only trust a fic author to tell.

Top 5 picks:

Murmuration by fringecity (indiachick)

bts, 167k, pub 2018, Yoongi/Jimin/Taehyung

Film noir/murder mystery meets gritty sci fi and superpowers. Everyone is morally gray. You Will sob about Kim Taehyung. A masterclass in plot. Felt like a trilogy all wrapped tightly into one fic. A kaleidoscope. An unfurling. This fic mesmerizes.

The River and the Deep Green Bend by liquidmeasure

1d, 70k, pub 2016, Harry/Niall

Dark tower au, but only technically. Makes me want to believe in the multiverse. An arid western, a sideways coming of age story, an elegy. The first time I’ve ever cried because an ending was perfect.

the undiscovered country by indigostohelit

hamlet, 56k, pub 2014, Hamlet/Horatio

What else can I say about this fic. What else can I Fucking say.

(note: we discuss this fic at length during episode 5)

All Things Shining by Askance and standbyme

spn, 142k, pub 2013, Dean/Castiel & Sam/ofc

A story about miracles. Literary as hell, with long luxuriant scenes that never drag. Masterful characterization. The thing I wanted from spn fic—connection, plot, and a fic that not only can handle the lore of the show, but is willing to expand upon it.

Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark

1d, 95k, pub 2013, Louis/Harry

Hunger games crossover. Doesn’t just use the other fandom for setting, but entirely inhabits it. I had to stop partway through my reread because I knew I’d have nightmares, but this fic never stops hoping. Trauma is not an ending. This fic is certain of that the whole way through.

Reid’s Choices:

Honorable Mentions:

songs from the ash, by explosivesky, 2017

Critical Role, Percy/Vex, Keyleth/Vax, 54k, WIP (sort of)

rockstar/movie star AU

A fantastic example of how fic can just standalone as really good original fiction. A lovingly rendered, devastating and beautifully crafted portrait of four broken people doing their best to navigate through their lives and around one another.

delta, by sharpa, 2019

BTS, rapline ot3, 60k

What happens when you’re a public figure who gets unwillingly outed, and two people you used to love reach out to offer you sanctuary? You make Reid cry, that’s what.

Top 5 picks:

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl, 2013

Harry Potter, drarry, 60k

Immediately post war, bond

It represents a lot of what I was looking for when I started really getting into Drarry fic, which was an exploration of what canon wouldn’t give me. My favorite Drarry fics have always been the ones that let them dig into their shared trauma, and while this fic isn’t the heaviest one I’ve read, I think the fact that it’s set literally hours after the Battle of Hogwarts ends lends itself well to that concept. I couldn’t have a list of the decade without a Drarry fic, tbh.

The Great Sealand Takeover, by whalehuntingboyfriends, 2015

Roosterteeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, ot6 (gavin, michael, ray, geoff, ryan, jack), 365k

FAHC

When I think about fics that set the standard for a fandom, this is one of the first ones that comes to mind. This fic means a lot to me because it was my introduction to RPF, and in addition to its intricate plot and fandom-constructed lore, also was a take on poly relationships and found families in a way I had never experienced before, with themes of belonging and a love that transcends typical convention.

The Twice-Told Tale by arysteia, 2012

Marvel, steve/tony, 15k

This fic hits a sweet spot for me where it does have some of that 2012 tower-fic nostalgia, but I also think it holds up well in terms of what I (and fandom) find so fascinating about Tony, which is all this grief and trauma that he struggles so hard to process, and the way puts himself at the center of attention to obfuscate the fact that he keeps everyone at a long arm’s length.

There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, by Shoshanah-ben-hohim, 2015

Hockey, Sid/Geno, Canon Divergent, 77k

& the whole series, including There is a Field, I’ll Meet You There, Alex Galchenyuk/Olli Maata, 131k

When I think about this fic I want to scream from every rooftop I’ve ever been on “please read this fic”. The way it weaves together details to provide a level of grounding and realism in what sounds like the most absurd concept for a fic just floors me. The empathy and compassion and fear in this fic just gets at the most tender parts of my heart, and the fact that it’s ostensibly a ship fic, and yet Sid and Geno spend nearly the entire fic with no communication, but instead are just holding on to the innate truth that they know about one another to get them through this crazy endeavour they’re on elevates the entire fic for me.

what comes after, by poppyseedheart, 2018

Roosterteeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, mavinseg (gavin, meg, michael, lindsay), 36k

Dystopia/Spy AU

When I first read this fic, I finished it and I put it down and then I spent a few days feeling like I was just sort of wandering around in a haze because every single thought was consumed by this fic. In addition to its impeccable worldbuilding and the tone work that it does with its setting, I don’t know that I had ever resonated so deeply with fic characters before. Reading this felt like someone had pried my ribcage open one by one and revealed the softest, most tender parts of me and then went “I’m going to write something that targets this.” This fic is an ode to loss and love, to mourning something that you once had and then hesitantly and clumsily opening yourself up to building something new, and recognizing that, impossibly, that new thing you built can somehow be better than what you had before.

And I felt all of these things, I felt like my world had just been shattered by this new author I discovered… and then, somehow, I became her friend. Then through Nic I met Brenna, and now when I think about this fic I not only love it for being a work of art, but also for being representative of the thing that brought me to two of the most important people in my life, and that to me will always make it my favorite fic I’ve ever read.

#fic clique #fic recs #multifandom #minisode #fics of the decade

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years

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14x04: Mint Condition

Then:

I can’t believe this! Ghosts are real!

Now:

(Sidenote: I’m here for the fun Easter Eggs! Check out the credits on the Hell Hazers poster!)

At Smash Pow Comics, Stuart, a nerdy little dude with a trench coat, watches an advertisement for a horror movie marathon. There’s going to be slicing and dicing all week! (I spy a Racist Ghost Truck and the cabin from Hollywood Babylon.) He starts unpacking new inventory, when he finds a Mezco 15” Mega-Scale Panthro.

He promptly shoves it into a bag, clearly intent on stealing it. He gets a call from a friend, Sam, who wants to talk about the recent bad review their store received after Stuart got into a fight with a customer. The dude has principles. But, he agrees to be nicer to customers. He then leaves the store with the stolen Panthro.

Later, Stuart is yelling on the phone at a pizza company for being late with his delivery, when, now out of the box, Pantho turns his head and makes his way, nunchucks in hand, over to Stuart. Things do not go well for Stuart.

Speaking of things not going well, Dean is not adjusting well to his home being invaded by strangers (and the whole Michael possession thingy). He’s holed up in his (MESSY) room drinking beer, eating pizza, WEARING ‘SEND NOODS’ NOVELTY SOCKS, and watching classic 80s horror movies. I don’t think fanfic could have written this better, folks.

Sam checks in on our little hermit.

It seems that Dean is pouting because Cas is gone (and Kaia and her magical spear are gone and Michael and his deathly threat to the world are also gone.) Sam then continues to show his strong leadership skills and deftly takes control of the situation, telling Dean about a case --a killer toy! Dean’s on it!

Sam couldn’t be prouder of himself.

The brothers arrive at the comic store (and, omg, Sam’s little faux-scared reaction to the kids on the street is KILLER.) Sam, the store owner, is there and before Dean calls her Sam’s Wonder twin, I was thinking how she’d fit right into the hunter world with her plaid shirt. Sam then notices another worker, Dirk, and says he’s Dean’s Wonder twin. Parallels established.

Dean then completely nerds out over a life size mannequin of David ‘Hatchet Man’ Yeager, the monster from his favorite movie franchise, All Saints’ Day. DEAN BEAN.

Comic Sam asks how she can help them (Dean’s interested in vintage Hot Wheels), Sam wants to know more about Stuart. Sam tells them that he’s at his mom’s house. “Of course he is,” Dean quips.

At Stuart’s mom’s house, the brothers settle in with a little hot apple cider and wait for Stuart.

*Bullet Points of Crazy Dialog*

Fortnite is the game

Dean’s a Zelda for life

MIRL

Who needs goth-girl drama, am I right?

The hospital report said that you had marks on your face, your legs, your back, and your genitals. That’s not a slip and fall.

Surprisingly, Stuart is not interested in cooperating with the insurance company. They decide to stakeout the home to do a sweep of hex bags, etc. Dean tries getting Sam to talk about his hatred for Halloween, but the stakeout interrupts the inquiry. They duck down to avoid notice.

Stuart then comes screaming out of his home, blood gushing from his gut. Dean heads inside to investigate.

For Science:

While looking around, Dean’s nearly bisected by a rogue chainsaw. WHELP.

Later, at the hospital, Dean and Sam visit Stuart and his mother. Alone, they discuss the lack of hex bags and overabundance of EMF at Stuart’s home. It’s a ghost!

Sam heads back to Stuart’s house, only to find no EMF. He does see a picture of Stuart, Sam, Dirk, and another man though.

At the dark, quiet hospital, Dirk stands watching over a comatose Stuart. Dean brings him some candy (awww), Dirk confides that Stuart is his best friend. He might have issues, but he’s there when Dirk needs him. Then they both nerd out over their favorite All Saints’ Day movie. Dean then confesses that he likes to watch these movies because he knows the bad guy is going to lose. I’m not crying, you’re crying.

Sam heads back to the shop to talk to...Sam. Sam asks Samantha a few normal insurance-adjuster questions, like did anyone close to Stuart die recently? In fact, yes. The former shop owner, Jordan, willed the store to Sam and Dirk after he died. Unfortunately, Jordan was cremated, so the trail's gone cold. Speaking of COLD, the shop dips dramatically in temperature. Sam whips out his “carbon monoxide detector” and finds EMF signals are through the roof. They'd better run before they--

Later, Sam wakes up after getting knocked out by the hatchet man and discovers a traumatized Samantha and a set of missing shop keys. They've been locked inside the store while the possessed mannequin stalks the streets to hunt down Stuart.

At the hospital Dean continues to totally nerd out with Dirk as they keep their vigil over Stuart. They share their favorite moments from horror movies until Sam calls and interrupts (Interrupting Saaaam) with the news that Jordan's on his way as...the Hatchet Man.

Dean is over the moon that David Yaeger – the Hatchet Man himself – is on his way to the hospital. It's like a dream...er, nightmare...er, dream come true.

Jordan shambles through the Halloween streets wearing the Hatchet Man mannequin, blending in perfectly with the astonishingly well costumed children of the town. (For comparison, when children of this age came to my house last week they were wearing hoodies, jeans, and bored expressions.)

At the hospital, Dean makes a salt line around Stuart's bed and tells Dirk to stay inside the circle. Dean runs off, leaving the two alone. When the room grows cold, lights flicker, and the furniture begins to rattle, Dirk races out of the salt circle. As an audience, we collectively cry, “Oh noooooooo!” (And also, OH YES.)

At the store, Samantha informs Sam that Stuart was excluded from Jordan's will due to his tendency to give himself the ol' five finger discount. And now we have a motive. Jordan's after Stuart due to his thieving ways. Sam's having trouble escaping the store with its master locks and shatter-proof glass. It's so well fortified, you could use it to wait out a zombie apocalypse. All you need now is a deep freezer full of Cornetto ice cream cones.

At the hospital, Dean finds an ax.

For My Scientific Paper Entitled, Jensen Ackles, Your Face is a Menace:

And the Hatchet Man finds Stuart's mom. She shrieks and drops her dinner, but fear not! The Hatchet Man gets distracted by Dirk who confronts him from the other end of the hallway. Dirk tells Jordan to stop trying to kill Stuart but Jordan seems pretty locked into his role. He chases Dirk through the hospital.

We cut to some security guards enjoying popcorn and a movie in their office. On screen, they watch the Hatchet Man chase after a shrieking victim while on another unseen screen Dirk is chased through the hospital by Jordan. Beautiful.

Both chase scenes make lovely references back to the lampshade from earlier, screaming about the weird lack of people around to help them while they shout and run through the hospital. Yessss very good. Dirk, cornered at the hospital elevator, cringes in horror as the Hatchet Man advances.

In the impenetrable fortress of solitude, aka the comic book shop, Sam makes a casual chemical bomb out of household cleaners and a Scooby Doo lunchbox. He blows the back door off the shop. COOL.

Dirk continues to run from Jordan and finds himself in the morgue. Dean claps a hand on his shoulder from behind. YIKES! Classic jump scare.

Dirk tells Dean that the homicidal Jordan/Hatchet Man is at the hospital and, right on cue, Jordan sits up from where he's been laying on a slab in the morgue. With a sheet pulled up over him. Like you do. Jordan has gone METHOD in this haunting, man.

Cut to a movie trailer, with the origin story of David Yaeger and...the Hatchet Man. Intercut with scenes from old Supernatural episodes including – no joke – an old shot of the back of young John Winchester's head in the auto shop, we see the basic story outline.

Yaeger was killed in a prank gone wrong and his body burned to hide the evidence. He returned to enact his revenge on the teens who'd killed him and mutilated his body. (Hey guys, who wants to talk about horror movies and fables as classic morality plays? The “bad” are killed and the “good” or repentant are saved. I would love to see this tie into Heaven's stability problems later in this season, and an exploration of vengeful ghosts and morality fables. That would be a nice, tight narrative woven through the season...Mmmhmmm.)

I digress. Dean faces down Jordan for an ax showdown.

Dean gives Jordan a choice. Move on to the after-afterlife or fight Dean. Jordan pushes a button on his...plastic suit? “Time to slice and dice,” he says, challengingly. And the fight's on. Hatchet Man's pretty strong with his two axes and quickly knocks Dean's ax out of his hands. Dean goes on to fight with 1) a sheet 2) an empty jug and 3) a bedpan in each hand. I. LOVE. THIS. FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHER.

Sam and Sam walk through the hospital, racking their brains for what Jordan might be clinging to. They decide the keys are the culprit. Meanwhile, Dean's in a tight spot, on the ground in his fight against Jordan. The ax raises. Dean cowers. Suddenly, there's a blade from behind. Dirk stabbed the Hatchet Man right in the back but it's not enough to stab the plastic dummy. Jordan grabs ahold of Dean and starts to choke him. Sam races to burn the keys, and the two Sams pour alcohol into a bowl and light it on fire, destroying the keys and setting free Jordan's spirit.

“Is it really over? Just like that?” Dirk asks a little while later, to Dean's astonishment. Yeah, getting choked was super easy. (I love this subtle dig at us viewers' casual acceptance of violence and trauma. It's not a judgmental observation, it's just the way we function.)

On the way home, Dean opens up to Sam. He thanks him for getting him out of his pizza-box-filled bedroom. Sam asks Dean to stop “hiding out” in his room. He tells him that nobody blames him for what Michael did while he possessed Dean, nor for doing what he had to do to save Sam and Jack. Dean blames himself, though. “I'm never gonna get over it,” Dean tells him flatly. But he will pull himself up and fight alongside Sam. Dean addresses Sam as “Chief” and while the address is a bit tongue in cheek, it's also an affectionate nod to Sam's new responsibilities and leadership role. (Yaaay)

Dean grills Sam about his hatred of Halloween and, since emotions are being released, Sam relents. When he was in sixth grade he had a huge crush on a girl. He went to her Halloween party, but was so nervous that he threw up all over the apple bobbing game and all over her. “It was soooo bad,” Sam says quietly with a haunted look in his eye. (I LOVE how relatable Sam's trauma is. Who doesn't spend time sometimes dwelling on the scars of youth? No matter what true horrors lay in the past, some form of trauma is universal to all of us humans.)

Sam ran from the party and hid in the woods until Dean found him and picked him up. Dean vows to make Sam's next Halloween a good one. They can wear matching outfits like:

1) Batman and Robin (No)

2) Bert and Ernie (That's weird)

3) Rocky and Bullwinkle (Nooope)

4) Shaggy and Scooby! (Why?)

5) Turner and Hooch (Urg)

6) Ren and Stimpy (Come on)

7) Thelma and Louise (No thanks)

But the show’s not over yet, folks. A security guard heads into the morgue. He finds the knife, the two axes...and the Hatchet Man. The Hatchet Man cackles, “Trick or Treat” and then chuckles malevolently as the screen goes black. Dun dun duuuuuuuun!

Time to Quote and...Smote?

It’s so smooth, it’s like a dolphin’s belly.

Thundercats? Seriously? Panthro is mine.

If I had Kryptonite gloves I could beat up Superman. Anyone could. That's SCIENCE, Sam!

I can’t believe you had her make us apple cider.

We all do bad things sometimes.

Unless it's Godzilla, it's real.

One day we're gonna have to answer for the things we did that night.

In this dark, quiet hospital...they can run, they can hide, but there's no escaping the Hatchet Man.

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years

Text

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: It’s late, but I wanted to get this up before I crash. Hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Upcoming Warnings: Show level violence. Mentions of childhood trauma/sexual abuse sprinkled in (not super detailed. I do have my limits). Smut. A lot of detailed smut. Kidnapping. Near death experiences. Etc. Individual chapters will have different warnings as needed. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: Roughly 3,500

“Singing Radiohead at the top of our lungs. With the boombox blaring as we're falling in love. Got a bottle of whatever, but it's getting us drunk. Singing here's to never growing up.” You bellowed along to the song heartily as you stirred the yellow concoction in the pan. Dancing a little in the purple short and lavender tank pajamas you'd donned the night before.

Dean hadn't mentioned the conversation you two had the week before. Instead, leaving it to settle on your shoulders. He knew just how to apply the pressure without doing much work. Forcing you to consider every angle. As if you'd ever truly leave the bunker.

His unease left you in a predicament, however. If you retaliated, the older Winchester would believe that you were miserable. So rather than raining hell on the younger brother, you simply backed away. Remaining almost, but not quite, civil.

Sam seemed almost disappointed in the lack of response. But, he didn't challenge it amazingly enough. It was nearly peaceful inside the cement walls for the first time in...well, ever.

The night before, Dean had announced there was a ghoul active a few states over. Naturally, he had to go. And along with him? His brother. Or, so you assumed.

Peace and quiet deserved a celebration. Homemade juice paired with farm fresh eggs fit the mood. There was no need to scramble madly to feed the larger than life men. You could let down your guard for a little while. Make yourself a nice breakfast.

“Song suits you,” Sam's voice made you jump as he walked over to the coffee machine, bed hair game strong. You watched enviously as he brushed his long locks back into place with just his work worn fingers. That isn't natural.

“What are you doing here?” You stared at him as if he was a ghost. His lips tugged up slowly. No doubt enjoying your obvious horror.

“Dean left. Not me.” He shrugged, simply. His body seemed to grow larger as he straightened to his full height. Silently daring you to challenge it. “Said he had it, and that was that.”

“Great.” You rubbed your forehead. The tightness climbing at the base of your skull indicated a tension headache moving in. All of the possible repercussions of Sam staying behind danced through your mind. It never ended well. The bickering and hostility grew to unbearable levels without the older brother as a middle man. Not that you'd tell Dean that. Not after the conversation you'd had with him. There was only one way to rectify the situation. “Here.”

Without missing a beat, you plated and slid the perfect omelet you'd slaved over, over to the monster himself. He didn't move an inch. Squinting at the dish as he inspected it. Your eyes rolled before he could even speak.

“What kind of poison is it?” He quirked his brow while poking at the plate. The lack of retaliation from the fish incident left him even more distrustful than usual.

“Every kind of rat poison known to man. I paired it with a touch of hydrochloric acid for a bit of extra bite.” An exaggerated kiss to your fingers emphasized your inner chef. When that only earned a side eye, you sighed. “I was making it for me, but then you had to go and show your ugly mug.”

While Dean taunted his brother for his 'pretty looks, you went to the opposite end of the spectrum. You figured that he needed his ego knocked down a bit. Even if it was the furthest thing from true. The Winchesters had genes that would make the Greek Gods jealous. Rivaling even Zeus when it came to sexual escapades. It was ridiculous.

He took it warily; making a point to sniff the eggs when he thought you weren't paying attention. Another small poke to the yellow fluff ensued. Finding nothing obviously wrong, Sam finally lifted the fork.

“I get sick? Expect something worse than the fish.” He warned before taking a small, experimental bite. You watched as he chewed slowly. Trying to discern if there was anything questionable mixed in.

“Oh, please.” You turned back to the ingredients you'd left out and started making another one for you. “Some of us aren't quite that devious.”

Well, all of the time. You'd definitely put a laxative in his food once or twice after one of his worse 'pranks'. And, might have set up a booby trap or two for him to walk into. Based on the way his eyes flashed your way, he definitely was thinking of those moments.

No one said a word after that. You flipped the new concoction while trying to ignore the hazel gaze that watched every move you made. It made you wonder what was dancing through that too smart head of his. Maybe a new method of torture?

You left him in the kitchen, choosing to go to the library to finish your breakfast. Escaping his presence as soon you could. Not caring in the slightest if it miffed him.

Once you were done, you scanned the thickly lined bookshelves. It was useless. Instead of the unlimited lore you had access to, you pulled out a favorite of yours.

A gentle, relaxed sigh left you as your body dropped into the cushioned chair that rested in the bit of a nook. However, the reading didn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped it would. Instead you stared at the words until they all seemed to blend into a giant muddle.

After what felt like hours, you gave up. Your cell was yanked off of the floor, where you'd set it. The number could have been dialed in your sleep. Sure enough, after three rings, you got the voice you wanted.

“Ghost busters.” Dean answered, making you shake your head lightly with a small smile. It had become his new catchphrase. The man was nothing if he wasn't able to geek out.

“You didn't tell me you were going on your own.” You went straight to business. After all, you were still more than a little unnerved from the younger man's stare. “A little warning would have been nice. I almost had a heart attack when a rouge big foot walked into the kitchen.”

“I just needed some time to myself, Y/N.” Guilt dripped from Dean's voice as he talked. “Look,” A weary sigh left him, “if you need me to come back, I will...but, if you don't? You'll just have to deal, okay?”

“Hey,” You sat up straighter. His tone worried you. Dean didn't like to show any kind of weakness. Ever. “You're okay, right?”

“Yeah,” He answered, but it fell flat. “Like I said. Just needed a little space. I haven't had any real alone time in a few months.” While you'd had plenty. As annoying as Sam Winchester could be? Human socialization was necessary. You could deal.

“I get that...” You trailed off, looking towards the shelves. “Just...be careful.” You knew he was a competent hunter, and then some. He'd saved the world. But, you always felt better when he had Sam by his side.

“Hey, you, too. Try to not let him get you too worked up. I don't know why-”

“I don't either, Dean.” You sighed, and rubbed your forehead. It was a discussion you didn't need. He needed reassurance. “I'll be good, okay? If it gets too crazy, I'll bail until you get back. Promise. Just...go let off some steam, and then come back to us in one piece.”

“Will do, sweetheart.” You heard the smile in his voice. He loved it when you mothered him. Took some of the weight off his shoulders. “See you soon. Don't kill my brother. It's a pain in the ass to get him back.”

“You better. And no promises.” His hearty laugh made you feel slightly better. It made him sound more alive, at least.

You hung up with him. Nothing else needed to be said. Not at that particular moment. If you could put off the unpleasant discussion of room and board longer? You would.

You tapped your fingers restlessly against the table you were seated at. Processing the situation you'd found yourself in. Wondering just how long you could go before the temporary peace fell apart.

Dwelling on it got you nowhere. Instead, a huff left you as you lifted your book. Determined to turn away from the real world for a bit. Miraculously enough, it worked. You lost yourself in the story.

“You're reading Dracula?” The incredulous sound of Sam Winchester yanked you out of the plot sometime later.

He stood there, head tilted as he took in the sight. His laptop in hand. No doubt preparing to search for a hunt of his own.

“It's a classic. Don't know why you're so surprised.” You didn't bother looking at Sam. Hoping he'd simply go away. As if you were ever that lucky.

Truth was, you had a shelf in the library to yourself. Classics and newer novels alike lined it. He had just never paid attention to what you'd brought into his home.

“Never known you to be a fan of classic literature-”

“You don't know a thing about me,” The book didn't lower as you spoke matter-of-factly. Trying to focus on the world in front of you. “You didn't bother trying to get to know me. Ever.”

You'd made a point to take note of things he liked back in the beginning. Attempted to discover things he enjoyed doing. A wasted effort, in the end. However, you still remembered enough.

Sam, though? He'd just ignored everything he couldn't use to harass you. As if all those other pieces of you didn't exist. At one point, you'd been bitter about it. That time had long since past. Leaving you with only a practical attitude towards it all.

“That's not-”

“Name one thing I like.” That time, you did finally set the novel down. Brow raised as you waited. Not really expecting him to come up with anything. You knew better.

“Bram Stoker.” Was the best he could manage with a small frown tugging at his pink lips.

“Doesn't count.” If you rolled your eyes any harder, they were sure to get stuck. “You literally just learned that, Sam. I've been here how long?” That seemed to sink in. For once, he looked almost uncertain in his dealings with you. His weight shifted uncomfortably “Look, Dean's gone. So, let's just make this easy for once. Speak frankly. I'm a bit tired of whatever game we've been playing. I have no idea what I did to become the one person you can't stand. And honestly? I don't care to know by this point. I'll stay out of your way, and you can just enjoy your time off.”

“Y/N-”

“Don't go feeling bad, now.” You got to your feet, holding your book. Glaring up at him for the almost kind tone he'd manged. You didn't want him to show you pity, or remorse. “It's a little late for that...” A deep, steadying breath left you. Calming yourself back down, you straightened your spine. “If you have a problem with me being here, I'll have Bane pick me up. Stay with them-”

“I-I'm not getting the blame because you're looking for an excuse to bail on Dean,” You'd never seen eyes that changed colors so fast. And yet, his did as they flashed. Darkening in that barely contained anger of his; nostrils flared.

You'd done it again. Pressed those buttons that no one else seemed to hit. Only you couldn't understand why.

“Bail on Dean?” You couldn't hold back the snort. The idea so foreign that you could do nothing more than dismiss it. “The only one I'm willing to bail on is you, Sam.” You grabbed your dirty dishes and cell phone before leaving without another word.

As you walked away, Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from your back. Unable to do more than think about your words as he took over your seat.

You weren't wrong. As much as he hated to admit it to himself. When it came to you? If it wasn't something he could use to piss you off, he was clueless.

He turned his head away as you disappeared, glancing over at the shelf you'd claimed. Staring at the books, but not processing any of it. Much like he'd done with you.

Even when you tried making peace over the coffee incident, he'd pushed you away. Right from that first day, he'd been the one bent on confrontation. Not you. Once you'd stooped to his level, it had become comfortable. The one person he could be a boar to without remorse. Well, almost. Some days, he nearly felt guilty.

He didn't quite place what it was about you that made him act like such an ass. It couldn't be boiled down to one particular thing. It was just you in your entirety. But, when it came to the things he disliked? There was a list.

He despised the way you seemed to lead his brother on. More than once, he'd caught you sneaking into Dean's room at night and then leaving in the morning. And yet, you never even hinted at anything more being a possibility between you two. Pretended it never happened.

Dean might not have realized it, but he deserved far better than being used as a sex object after everything he'd been through. His brother deserved the good life. A wife. Maybe some kids. Hell, even a dog.

The longer you kept him on the hook, the longer it would take for him to find what he really needed. Sam tried to not interfere in that area in Dean's life, but that didn't mean he approved of the way you went about it all. Not in the slightest.

The scariest thing about you? You didn't ever hunt. He didn't even think you could. You knew the book work. And while that had its pros, he hadn't seen you put it to use. Not once. Training to stay in shape? That was a joke.

Your lack of skill was a threat. It was dangerous- mentally and physically- for both his brother and your mutual friends to be attached to someone who couldn't defend themselves. If you didn't break his heart by walking away, you'd do it with your inevitable death.

And in their lives, it was inevitable for anyone who couldn't fight. That's just the way things worked when someone was involved with a Winchester. If anyone understood that, it was the younger brother.

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly. There was more. But, those two? Those were the main ones that would destroy Dean. That would end up taking down Sam with it.

You were entirely right. He didn't know you outside of the outline he'd mentally created. Of the list of negatives. Though, he'd never tell you that. Maybe I owe it to Dean to try a little harder, Sam thought to himself. With a sigh, he gave in; adding as an afterthought, and I guess I owe it to her, too.

“Go out and meet some people, Y/N.” Alice chimed over the phone. Sounding all too bright for someone in her condition.

“I have met people, Alice.” You sighed, kicking your feet towards the head of your bed while your head hung off the front. Something you'd never quite grown out of. “Too many.”

“Fine. Let me elaborate.” She huffed into your ear, making your lips twitch. Suddenly understanding Dean's amusement when you pulled out that tone. “I'll try to be as blunt as possible here. Be warned.”

“I'm listening.” You answered, knowing it was going to be something completely off field. Sure enough, she didn't disappoint.

“Go have hot, sweaty sex with an orgasm giving god that you have no intention of ever seeing again.”

Sam and Dean would have had a heart attack if they heard their precious, little Alice speaking in such a matter. But, you? You'd heard it all. It didn't even earn a blink in surprise. She'd have been wholeheartedly disappointed in the lack of response.

“I'm almost positive that you just want to live vicariously through me.” You chuckled. Although, if you were being honest with yourself, the idea was tempting.

“Damn straight.” She hissed. Latching onto the plan with claws out. “I haven't been able to have sex in forever! Do you realize how miserable it is? To be forced to be celibate when your hormones are amped up? This is worse than period horny, Y/N. This is horny in a way you can't even begin to imagine until you go through it. High risk pregnancies are the worst!”

“Obviously I can't imagine.” You rolled your eyes at her theatrics. “You're aware that I can't miraculously absorb your ridiculously horny state, right? Me meeting a hot stranger and going to pound town isn't going to ease your misery. At all.”

“I told you. I'll live vicariously through you. Besides, you need a good time. Get you out of the funk you've been in lately.” She was as observant as Dean when it came to you. And you didn't care for it. Not in the slightest.

“Says the one who can't leave her couch.” You retaliated. Sounding more like a bratty child than ever before.

“And I'm still enjoying living more than you. When is the last time you did anything just because you could. Something that was just for you, and you alone? You're constantly waiting on the Winchesters, or on us.” She sighed heavily. As if it had been weighing on her heavily. “I know you thought you'd enjoy the role of 'stay at home mom'. And I know you wanted something less intense. But, you and I both also know that you miss your wild child days.” Part of you couldn't help but to wonder if pregnancy gave her some kind of sixth sense. “A happy medium isn't bad. It wasn't for us, but you? You're different. You're going to go insane if you don't kill off some of this funk.”

“I'm going to let you go for the night, Alice,” You pulled yourself up, cradling the phone with your shoulder. Knowing there was truth to her words. The twitchiness was creeping back on.

“Remember. Hot. Sweaty. Stranger.” She emphasized, knowing exactly what was running through your mind. You ended the call. Only to sit and mull over her words.

You'd hated life under the system as a kid. Bouncing from house to house. Promises of adoption that never came through. You'd run away from it by the time you were sixteen.

To survive, you hustled men at bars. Picked pockets. You lived on the road, in a car you'd hot wired. You'd teased and taunted men to get free drinks and food. Whatever it took to survive.

Once you started hunting, you used the adrenaline rush as a drug. It consumed you. You drank too much, and had no trouble manipulating people to get what you wanted. You let off extra steam with a string of one night stands. Over time, it only grew worse.

Meeting Bane a few months in hadn't helped you slow down. If anything, he'd aided in the trouble. Needing that same level of high from his own demons.

The homes created a second person inside of their victims. It'd been a side of you you'd kept locked away in a failed attempt to encourage people into letting you into their lives. Telling you to let loose. Do whatever, whoever, you wanted when you wanted.

It was surprisingly Alice, your equal in the hell raising department, that helped you lose a little steam years after you'd left your final home. You still didn't understand how it'd come from someone you'd met while dancing on a bar, chugging vodka from the bottle.

By the time you'd met Dean, the couple been more than ready to retire from the life. You? You wanted to remain involved, but you didn't want to die guns blazing. Somehow, you'd ended up playing 'housewife' more than anything.

And in that moment? It wasn't settling right. Stomach twisting, Alice's words danced through your mind again. Your inner minx, who had remained dormant for so long, was starting to become restless. All the signs had been there.

To hell with it... She's right. Your lips pulled up, and a bit of weight that you weren't even aware you'd been carrying left your shoulders. Time for a little, well earned, trouble...

Part Three

Tag: @burningmusicmachine

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