#parallels to their motel AND the living room talk
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I know motelgate is kind of all about one bed right but what about those we both couldn’t sleep in our separate rooms and now we’re standing at a motel vending machine together at 3am in our pajamas talking and staring at each other in an infinite hallway with nobody there, enjoying the intimacy arguably even deeper than being alone in a small room of being in a public place where there could and should be people but aren’t.
#the cold air#there is just something so poet and beautiful about hotel/motel HALLWAYS not room conversations#not forced proximity for such a long time you have to talk or share a bed but that you were so in sync that you got up at the same time#like how jancy didn't share a bed at murray's place#....at first#ooooh them talking about the real shit but out of their rooms like jancy at murray's like jancy at murray's#parallels to their motel AND the living room talk#stranger things#motelgate#byler#byler parallels#byler²
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Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals
Propaganda under the cut:
Sam/Dean:
I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!
dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it
Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.
Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story
THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world
Dave/Rose:
Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams
What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister
I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always
We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together
Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.
THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR
Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.
do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes
#tournament polls#tumblr polls#incest poll#wincest#samdean#spn#daverose#dersecest#homestuck#semifinals#tw incest
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Inevitably, when Dean wakes to find Cas gone from bed, he experiences a swift, dizzying rush of panic. Ice water shivers down his body from the crown of his head to his toes, as if someone broke a water balloon over his skull.
Sometimes it comes with the last vestiges of a nightmare, clinging to his skin like black sludge. Other times it’s merely his brain registering the absence before he’s even fully awake, attuned to Cas beside him like he used to be unflinchingly aware of Sam snoring softly in the bed parallel to his own in a motel room.
His left hand fists around the empty sheets beside him for several seconds, air rattling in his lungs as he breathes into the gray, filmy light coming into through the blinds in slats. The empty place on the bed is still warm, which means Cas hasn’t been gone long. Maybe he woke from his own nightmare or to get a glass of water or take a piss or maybe fetch a snack or because of some ache or pain; his human body wasn’t exactly reliable, delicate and unfamiliar to a being used to occupying a lightwave for untold millennia. Maybe he just couldn’t sleep.
Maybe it was the Empty. Come to renege on their deal.
Dean fumbles for his phone on the bedside table. The screen nearly blinds him, and he squints into through his lashes to see it’s later than he expected. Dean shuts his eyes, swallows, tries to ground himself back into his body.
When he’s finally calm enough, he tunes into the faint sounds from outside the door and down the hall. He can hear the coffeemaker sputtering and Miracle’s toes clacking on the tile.
Dean swings his legs over the side of the bed, spine twanging. He takes it slow: carefully presses the soles of his bare feet against the chilled floor, stretching for his cane hung on the bedpost, before he straightens himself out, gritting his teeth through the residual stiffness. He needs his cane more than ever in the morning, when sleep fuses his spine into an inflexible and painful rod, legs refusing to bend as they should after so many hours of inactivity.
He shuffles across the floor to find the bedroom door unlatched. His knuckles, swollen with arthritis from the cool morning air, are grateful. It’s hard enough just gripping his cane on mornings like this.
He feels old. He’s only forty-four years old, by all accounts a young man for a civilian. It’s not the years, honey. It’s the mileage. He grins at the quote. Years of untreated head trauma may have left his memory faulty in other ways, but Indy always lives at the forefront of his mind.
It’s brighter in the kitchen than the bedroom. The large sliding doors that lead to Dean’s garden in the backyard reveal dark gray, threatening clouds. The wind rustles the yellowing leaves of the large oak tree overhanging the garden, swiveling their lighter bellies to the sky.
Cas’s back is to Dean, fussing with the buttons on the coffeemaker, but he turns when Dean reaches his elbow. Dean uses his free arm to wrap it around Cas’s back, pulling himself into his angel’s space. Cas turns fully into Dean so they hold each other chest to chest. Cas’s hair tickles Dean’s nose. His large hand runs up and down Dean’s back, palm nearly scalding in the early autumn chill of the kitchen.
They don’t speak. Cas hates mornings and usually won’t talk until he’s had at least one mug of coffee. And Dean. Well, Dean hasn’t spoken for nearly two years.
Cas is the first to detach. The coffeemaker beeps, shrill in the silence of the kitchen. Cas fetches mugs, and Dean eases himself into a chair at the kitchen table. As soon as he’s seated, Miracle trots in from the living room, holding her favorite plastic green bone in her mouth.
She drops her toy at Dean’s feet and settles with her chin on his knee. Dean tangles his fingers into her hair, letting her warmth bleed into his aching hand.
Cas joins him at the table, sliding one mug in front of Dean before taking a long sip from his own. Dean watches Cas’s throat bob as he swallows his coffee, the pink, silvery scar taught across his neck moving in time with his Adam’s apple. Dean has a matching scar on his own throat. The price of the Empty to return Cas to him: Cas’s grace and Dean’s voice.
Dean pushes a pile of books and mail aside so he can get to his coffee. He’ll need to go to the post office today to mail Jack their book; they left it here over the weekend, but they need it for classes. Dean takes a sip of his coffee: scalding and deep black, just as he and Cas take it.
“It’s going to storm,” Cas finally breaks the silence after his coffee is half gone, and Dean bites back a smile. Cas’s becoming predictable in his humanity.
Dean agrees with a nod.
“Do you need to cover your plants?” Cas asks. Dean’s grateful for Cas’s concern; he knows there’s nothing on earth more boring to the angel than gardening.
Dean shakes his head, no. The only thing left in the ground this time of year is heartier root vegetables, potatoes and carrots, or the sprawling mess of his pumpkin patch that will withstand the hard rain.
Dean’s nearly done with his first cup of coffee and Cas already returned with his second when he pulls up his phone, squinting at the small screen. Cas nearly bit Dean’s head off the last time Dean dared suggest he get reading glasses.
Cas huffs through several article headlines, giving the list of alerts on Sam’s hunter algorithm a cursory glance. Later, he might go back to one or two, but, for now, nothing demands his immediate attention or needs to be redirected to one of Sam and Eileen’s hunter pairs. He sets his phone aside and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
Dean fishes for Cas’s hand across the table, weaving their fingers together. Cas drops his hand from his face and grips Dean’s with both of his own. Dean smiles at his angel, hair still mussed from bed, graying at his temples, and wrinkles carved like canyons around his eyes and lips.
I love you, Dean mouths, and Cas takes it with his own smile.
“I love you, Dean.”
Cas likely won’t notice if Dean’s a little clingier than usual today. He’s not very good at picking up those kinds of signals. But he’ll be patient enough with Dean’s lingering touches and shadowing him from room to room as Cas refuses to sit still, frenetic and antsy on days when they’re confined to the house.
Maybe Dean will make a warm soup and sandwiches for lunch. They could watch a movie, cuddled together on the couch, if he can manage to tie Cas down. Cas is liable to climb onto the roof if there’s a proper storm; likes to give Dean a damn heart attack by standing on the gable with his arms outstretched and eyes shut against the torrential rains and wind.
You don’t think you deserve to be saved? Cas asked Dean, all those years ago. Dean still isn’t so sure, some days, what he deserves. He’s been an unlucky bastard, by most reckoning. By Dean’s, he’s been damn lucky. If he’d known what was waiting for him, all these years later, he thinks he’d have spent less time thinking about what was and wasn’t deserved, and more time wondering if it was all worth it.
Mornings like this, he thinks it was.
Read on AO3 if you'd like
#Destiel#supernatural#dean winchester#castiel#supernatural fanfiction#destiel fanfiction#my writing#ficlet
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Between Sleep And Awake: Part 2
These connections are in the very show, so this is not really about theory. I'll leave that for the end of my post. Dynamics aren’t exact, but I got a general sense while watching Between Sleep and Awake. Cops, motels, domestic violence. Marvin and others in Red’s world refer to FBI agents as cops. Liz lived in a motel room throughout the entire second season, and Ressler viewed her in a domestic violence situation with Tom. These are supported by in-show dialogues, so this is a heads up as to where I stand with regard to Between Sleep And Awake.
Jonathon Pritchard
Conversation #1
Team Leader: I am very proud to say that one of us is celebrating a year sober today. Donald, why don’t you come up here? Congratulations.
Ressler: Thank you.
Team Leader: Want to say something? Go ahead.
Ressler: Thank you. I mean, I really wouldn’t be here without everyone in this room. I used to think that going it alone made me stronger. But that’s not true. No, not in here, not out there. No, real strength comes from accepting that you’re - accepting that you’re weak - and that it’s okay to ask for help.
“Going it alone” is a parallel, Between Sleep And Awake
Lauren: Alone is hard.
This parallel continues as Ressler gets clean.
Park: You can’t do this alone, weaning yourself off, titrating. It’s like handcuffing yourself to your desk at night just to keep from falling off the wagon.
Park: You can’t slay demons alone. None of us can.
Conversation #2
Team Leader: Powerful words, Donald.
Ressler: Please don’t ever make me do that again.
Team Leader: You know, there’s a lot of people that need help. You ever, uh, you ever thought about becoming a sponsor?
Ressler: Sponsor? No. No, that’s a big step.
Team Leader: So is a year sober. I think you’re ready. You, uh, you see that guy over there? You’re in similar lines of work. You know better than anyone how hard it is to stay clean in this town - in a high-stress job, where everything’s a secret.
Ressler: I don’t talk about my work here.
Team Leader: I know, but - I’ve been leading meetings in D.C. for a long time. There’s a - look. You have it, so does he. I think you could help each other.
Ressler: Can I think about it?
Team Leader: Of course, take your time. We’ll talk about it next meeting, alright?
“You could help each other” is a parallel, Between Sleep And Awake
Lauren: You helped me confront my past. Let me help you confront yours.
This parallel continues as Ressler gets clean.
Park: You need help, help I can’t give you because I don’t know how, so when I try, I only make things worse.
Conversation #3
Dembe: I noticed the chip in there. I realized it must be, what?
Ressler: A year.
Dembe: Congratulations. That’s a major accomplishment.
Ressler: That’s what everyone keeps telling me, yeah.
Dembe: Oh. Sick of hearing it?
Ressler: Once was enough. Okay, okay. Uh, NA wants me to sponsor someone.
Dembe: Are you gonna do it?
Ressler: I’m not sure. Some days, I can’t even help myself. How am I supposed to help someone else?
Dembe: Maybe that’s the point. I’ve never known you not to be of service when you can be.
That is the point. Even as Ressler hit rock bottom, he was able to help Lauren and her son. He and Dembe are alike - of service when they can be.
Conversation #4
Ressler: Hey. You, uh, nauseous?
Pritchard: Yeah, thanks.
Ressler: Yeah, the first week’s the hardest. Feels like your, uh, blood’s on fire?
Pritchard: Yeah, and your veins might explode. At least, at this point, I’m praying they do.
Ressler: How many days are you?
Pritchard: Uh, four. Uh, four and a half.
Ressler: Don’t knock the half. It’s an accomplishment. I know it doesn’t seem like it at this point, but it is. Donald.
Pritchard: Jonathan.
"Nauseous” is part of the package with drug use.
Ressler: I wake up in strange rooms. Naked. Covered in vomit.
“Blood’s on fire” is every reason for the excessive water. He hands Pritchard a glass of water. Not just for trying to cheat drug tests, since he’s shown drinking water in the motel room in Between Sleep And Awake.
Ressler: Yeah, soon as I give Health Services what they’re here for.
Park: Shouldn’t be hard. You drank half the Potomac.
Ressler: Well, I did a little research. I think I found where Kangas goes at night. What? I like to hydrate. You know, gingers tend to wrinkle.
Conversation #5
Pritchard: I’m going to meetings every day. And between that and our one-on-ones, I’m doing better.
Ressler: And work’s been good?
Pritchard: Sure. You know. You work for Uncle Sam too. Keeping the ol’ republic afloat isn’t exactly, uh, therapeutic. But my - My coworkers are supportive, keep telling me how good I look.
Ressler: You do. I wasn’t lying.
Pritchard: Ah, it just makes me realize how busted I was before.
Ressler: Hey, I was a wreck at your point in recovery. I hadn’t even shaved yet. There’s gonna be some tough days ahead. I’m not trying to freak you out. Just preparing you.
Pritchard No, I - I know. I know. But right now, I’m just really happy to be back in the world of the living. Ah, the nation calls. I’ll see you soon?
Ressler: Yeah. We’ll meet here, uh, day after tomorrow. But you call me if you need anything, okay?
Pritchard: Yeah, sure.
“Busted/wrecked” cars and people, Between Sleep And Awake
Ressler: Then I got this job fixing this car.
Hadn’t even shaved yet, Between Sleep And Awake.
Barber: So what are we doin’ today? A trim? Clean it up?
Ressler: Take it off.
Barber: You sure? Looks like you’ve been growing it a while. It’s a real statement if you ask me.
Ressler: Trust me. It’s time.
“The world of the living” is a parallel, Between Sleep And Awake
Barber: You all right, son? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
Ressler: Not a ghost. Just someone I used to know.
Ressler: I mean, when I started, it was - it was broken. Nothing about it worked. It was - It was dead to the world.
Cut to Agnes
“But you call me if you need anything, okay?”
Phone to phone.
"So these lists of TV shows and food - They’re what Agnes likes."
Agnes: See? So, here, me and my friends are all little crew mates on this spaceship together, and we’re all running around just completing different tasks. Except one of us is secretly an imposter.
Red: Sabotaging the mission. This is ingenious.
Agnes: Mmm-hmm. But Madison totally sold me out last game.
Conversation #6
Ressler: Hey. I just got your message. What’s, uh - What’s going on?
Pritchard: Yeah, yeah, it’s - It’s - It’s been, um - Not good.
Ressler: It’s okay. It’s all part of it.
Pritchard: You know, the thing about, um, being back in the world is that, um, people are watching you. You may be doing better, but everybody’s expecting you to mess up, so - Why not get it over with? My dealer called. I blocked his number, but he got a new phone, and, um - Just hearing his voice, it brought me back. Figured it was gonna happen anyway, so - Don, you realize you just destroyed $400?
Ressler: And I’ll do it again the next time you call. And the time after that. So stop wasting your money.
Ressler: Excuse me. Would you mind clearing these and getting us another round of coffee? Thank you. We’re gonna wait here until the meeting tonight, okay? I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.
New phone and wasted money, Between Sleep And Awake
Ressler: Look, come on. I’m not looking for any trouble.
Max: It’s a little late for that. You’re making this too easy, man!
Vivian: Hey. He’s got an iPhone too.
Max: Take everything.
Cut to Agnes
“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
Doorstep to doorstep.
“Go on adventures together. Climb mountains - explore galaxies.”
Agnes: Whoa! I didn’t know you knew how to video call!
Red: No. My friend Herbie walked me through it. Did you open the gift?
Agnes: What gift?
Red: Well, there should be a delivery man on your porch right now.
As I continue to point out... Ressler is in Lauren's shoes and Jonathon is in Ressler's. That's why Jonathon gave up his pills just as Ressler gave up his pills.
Aram: You’re right. That’s a - That’s a different boat.
Ressler: It’s a different ocean.
Pritchard: You know. You work for Uncle Sam, too. Keeping the ol’ republic afloat isn’t exactly, uh, therapeutic.
It’s not “therapeutic” for Ressler because Liz was his partner. So Jonathon's last scene with Ressler parallels Ressler's scene at Liz's grave at the end of 9x12. You can tell Jonathon's are street bought because there's no label. The person who gets the script in their name removes the label to protect themselves when they sell them. I fully believe Jonathon is just as much there for Ressler as Ressler was there for Lauren. I know fans don't take name meanings all that seriously, but Jonathon quite literally means Gift of God. I know this because my mother liked to name according to the bible. As the officer told Lauren, “You were very lucky to have him in your corner when you did.” Jonathon should pick up where Lauren left off. “But - maybe you’re lucky too. ‘Cause I’m in yours.” It was the only way for the writers to give Ressler what he needs and keep him in the show. It’s not like he can stay behind with Lauren and work blacklister cases from Liberty Falls.
Consider Lauren's ex-husband the drug that was destroying her. Scar on her arm from a glass table. Scar on her foot from a hot cup of coffee. Like Ressler now, she was in a tight position to be helping him because some days she couldn't help herself. She was in hiding with her son and just as much in her own form of recovery. Going it alone didn’t make her stronger either. If not for Ressler being there, Shane would’ve put her in the hospital - or worse. While in her position, she allowed him to stay in the motel despite having no money, and pointed him towards a job that could help him. She essentially acted as Ressler's sponsor, and he simply continued to battle his addiction when he returned to DC. That's why he was able to sit down and enjoy a meal with Theo while literally acting as babysitter.
Broken cars, broken people, broken families.
Everything seems to be of the past this season. Past blacklisters, past business, past relationships, past task force members like Meera.
Lauren: You helped me confront my past. Let me help you confront yours.
Ressler hasn’t yet. That's why I saved his first NA conversation last.
Ressler: Well, I’m good. I mean, the truth is… every day’s a struggle. Not just recovery, um, which so far, it’s - Look. I - I’m okay. It’s just mostly, uh… I have a hard time letting go of the past. I mean, it’s in my nature to want to fix things and…
Group Leader: Take your time, Donald.
Ressler: It’s just hard for me to accept. I lost someone I loved, and… it can’t be undone. I mean, I - I became an addict. I hit bottom. Uh… I wish it didn’t happen, but it did. And letting that go and leaving that be… it’s hard for me. But, uh… here I am. And today… I’m 311 days sober.
Group Leader: That’s wonderful. Good for you.
Ressler has a hard time letting go of the past, and as it pertains to the past, he speaks of fixing it. All of this should sound familiar, which is every bit the reason I included the scene cuts to Agnes.
Red: Is a child really what you want? But a baby won’t fix what happened in the past.
I don’t think Ressler is supposed to let go of the past, but confront it instead. I don’t think 10x10 was a coincidence, and I'm talking about The Postman's trial and their constant reference to 25 years.
Cooper: Prisoners call him “The Postman.” Served 25 years in a Maryland prison starting at 18 years old.
25 years.
Warden: It’s rare that a man would stick to the same story for 25 years.
25 years.
Warden: Because either way, he’ll never get those 25 years back.
25 years.
Cooper: Before Christopher Jay was Maryland Attorney General, he was a city prosecutor who sent an innocent man away for 25 years.
25 years
You know what else was 25 years? Liz’s FIRST memory wipe.
Liz: He stole it from me 25 years ago.
25 years.
Liz: From 25 years ago? No.
25 years.
Krilov: No. Not 25 years ago. Just two.
25 years.
Liz: Two years ago? Two, not 25. Two.
25 years.
They gave us that FIRST memory wipe (25 years) in 2x10. I suspect Liz's SECOND memory wipe (two years) is coming, and that will play out in a flashback episode similar to The Postman. And if I'm gonna call that episode, I'm going with The Nowhere Bride. Again, Between Sleep And Awake.
Belinda: Oh. Honey. I think we can do better. If you ask me, carnations are the sad flower of weddings past.
Every bit why Ressler needs to continue holding onto the past.
Gift of God.
Because Agnes was christened... and she’s in Theo’s shoes.
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Can’t escape (the way I love you) ↬a.r
A/N: This is a repost from my old account :) @th0ttie4tommy here you go :)
Warnings: cursing, use of wooden spoon, seX, canon typical voilence-ish)
MINORS DNI
WC: 3.1K
Summary: after running away from knockemstiff, Arvin finds his way to Cincinnati and finds a girl instead.
Pairing: Arvin Russell x Reader
Masterlist || Taglist
Sleep didn’t come easy to Arvin now that he was hitchhiking his way to Cincinnati. Flashes of his daddy on the prayer log with his neck cut off, Lenora’s limp body hanging, the preacher bleeding his guts out and even the photograph of the whore- the Sheriff’s little sister- all played in his mind like a broken record.
Sighing, he leaned back on the seat and watched the long haired driver honk on the ongoing vehicles, the noises sending shards of pain up his skull. He really wanted to sleep, and maybe smoke a cigarette, but he didn’t want to think about the possibilities of what would happen if he slept in a random stranger’s truck.
Just the thought of sleep reminded him of the old man and the whore’s faces, making him sit up straight.
“You okay there boy?” The long haired man raised an eyebrow, looking at him from the corner of his eye.
Arvin shook his head, wincing at the movement as his sore body struggled to not give in to the strong pull of sleep.
“I’m good. How far away are we from the city?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he saw the Sheriff’s car go past them.
“We have a long way to go. Why don’t you take a shut eye meanwhile?” The driver said.
“No thank you. I’ll stay awake. Sleep is for the week and all.” He mumbled, fixing his cap.
“Okay, if you say so” The driver responded, shrugging and continued driving.
Arvin looked out of the window, watched as the trees passed by, a lonely dog making a trek as it wiggled it’s tail. His heart gave a thump, chest aching as the dog reminded him of Jack. He really missed the mutt, he didn’t deserve the death it got.
Pulling his cap over his eyes, he squinted at the slight indication of dawn, the pull of sleep too strong to ignore now. His mouth went slack and neck bobbed with the wobbly rout, a huge yawn leaving him, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.
***
“Hey kid! Wake up!” The man said, shaking out of his sleep. He woke up in a disoriented haze, head throbbing harshly against his skull, body heavy with exhaustion. Sitting up with a gasp, he saw that the man had stopped the truck, panic seizing his lungs. Was that it? Would the driver pull a gun on him just like those Henderson whores had?
Looking around, he noticed a small diner, stomach growling with hunger, as if in response to seeing the place.
“Whe- Where are we?” He said sharply, noticing the driver’s eyes trailing him. He shuddered at the man’s gaze.
“We’re at a rest stop. Figured you might be hungry.” He replied gruffly, getting off the side door, “You comin’ or not boy?”
“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.” He whispered. Maybe he could run away from here, hitchhike another ride to the city. His eyes landed on the board on the corner of the road. He was relieved to find that he was already in the city.
Before he knew it though, his feet were carrying him towards the diner, a cigarette making its way to his mouth as an invisible string pulled him towards the small place. He complied, too tired to make anything of the situation.
The bell rang as he opened the door, pushing himself inside before he could think. Taking an empty seat, he leaned on his hands as his heart stuttered to a stop.
Literally stopped.
It felt like he was in a parallel universe filled with coincidences, flashbacks of his old house back in Ohio, his daddy sitting on a ratty stool as he talked about his mama . Because in front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He remembered his daddy telling him how he met his mother in a diner in a small town, just like the one Arvin was in right now.
Throwing away the butt in an ashtray, he tried to speak, but no words came out. He stuttered a small smile, looking at your bright eyes as you said something.
“What do I get for you honey?” You asked in a soft voice, oh your voice was such a melody.
“A coffee would be good.” He finally said, licking his lips and thumbing his wallet nervously. He hadn’t left with much money.
“You look like you need solid food and aspirin.” You smirked, pouring a hot cup of coffee in front of him. You slid a cheesecake, smiling at his surprised expression. “It’s on me.“
"Oh- I uhm. Thank you.” He nodded. He took a bite of the soft dessert, nearly moaning at its sweet taste. His taste buds were jumping from the onslaught of the sweet flavour, sighing as he sipped at the bitter coffee. It was the best food he’d had in a few days.
Turning around in his seat, he saw that the driver was nowhere in sight. Great. He had ditched him. Thankfully he still had his belongings with him.
Turning around again, he fidgeted with his fingers just as you appeared in the line of his sight.
“You’re not from here are you?” You ask, wiping your hands on your apron.
“No. How’d you know?” He raised an eyebrow, a smile appearing on his face.
“Well you look quite lost. Do you have a place to stay?” You leaned forward, the open collar showing just a little bit of your cleavage. He licked his lips, trying not to stare.
“I don’t actually. My ride ditched me.” He shrugged, “thanks for the cheesecake by the way."
"Oh it’s alright. The leftovers go to those bloated buffoons anyway. You looked starved, so I wondered why not?” You collected the cutlery from the other customers, shouting orders at the kitchen for the others. “You say your ride ditched you? My grandma owns a motel not far from here, I could get you a room to stay for s while."
"Oh no no no! That- you’ve already done so much for me and you don’t even know me!” He stumbled. He wasn’t used to this sort of kindness, considering the shit his life took in the past few months.
“It’s no trouble really! I’m just going there after this shift anyway, will probably stay in the penthouse for a while.” You said.
Before he could say anything to confirm or deny your offer, You were removing your apron, handing it to another girl as you hopped over the counter.
Fixing your dress and hair, you go to the back of the kitchen and yell something at the manager, walking out of the house, looking behind and silently asking him to follow.
Arvin tried to follow you, sighing in relief when he found you leaning against the wall in the back. But instead of calling out for you, he scrambled for a cigarette, groaning internally when he found only one left and lit it with a matchstick. Taking a drag, he breathed in the familiar burning in his throat, leaning against a pole.
He felt more than saw you eyeing him from the corner of his eye, heart speeding up like he was in highschool and had a crush on one of the girls or guys. He hadn’t stuck around much to date anyone, but the time he had making out with them was good enough for him.
“My name’s Y/N by the way.” You said, biting your lips as you looked at him.
“Russell Arv- I mean- Arvin Russell.” He stuttered, pulling out the joint from his mouth.
He took a deep breath, letting the silent roads and windy weather calm his racing heart down. He thought about leaving right there, not wanting to get someone who looked as innocent as you did, in a mess like his life was. Before he could walk away though, you were walking towards him, biting your lips.
“Uhh, so my grandma’s place?” You asked nervously.
“You barely know me and you’re letting me stay with you. For all you know, I could be a murderer.” He joked. You chuckled and made a face at him, dragging him to your Cadillac. He followed anyway.
(He almost laughed at how ironic he sounded, shaking his head internally.)
“Thanks for letting me stay Mrs. L/N” He smiled at your grandma as she shook his hands, enthusiastically shoving cookies down his throat and excited that you had brought a boy with you.
“She’s nice."
"She’s the best.”
He intended to stay for a day and hitch a ride, stay far far away from this place. He didn’t want to corrupt these people, he tried to reason. But he couldn’t let go, he just kept interacting.
(A little girl in the neighbourhood liked to play with his hat. He smiled at the small child, surprised to find the unadulterated happiness that radiated off the wee kiddo when he played with her. The people smiled a lot too.)
A day turned to two, two to a week and then nearly a month passed and no one asked him once why he lived with a girl and her grandma.
(Or why he flinched every time he saw a gun or an officer of law walk by).
He also managed to score a job at the diner, for washing the plates. He found that he didn’t mind helping people
You didn’t know how fast time could pass, and as it grew it’s sneaky tendrils, your heart grew a mind of its own as you spent days fantasizing your time with him, of you under him as he fucked you senseless.
Tracing his biceps, you leaned forward, mouth nearly touching his. He cupped your jaw, grabbing your waist and lifted you off the ground, slamming you against the concrete wall and kissed you.
Your mouth tasted like berries, which berries he didn’t know, maybe strawberries, fuck if he cared. Maybe it was your Chapstick.
“Arvin.” You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching for the collar of his shirt as he shoved you against the wall, holding your ass to keep your balance. His tongue swirled around your lips, hands sliding up your legs in a soothing motion.
You could taste the nicotine in his mouth, but you couldn’t be bothered. All you wanted was this beautiful stranger right now. A stranger who you felt like you’ve known your whole life.
“Shh sweetheart, don’t want anyone to hear us would we?” He whispered in your ear, holding his hands over your lips to shush you. You nodded, eyes half closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his rough denim rub against your thighs, the sheer friction of his movements causing heat to pool your gut.
“Arvin,” you moaned softly, running your hands through his hair, “Arvin, wait. I- I know a place."
He stopped for a second, Looking at you with a bewildered expression. "What kind of place?"
You gulped, getting off of him and walking around and outside the master bedroom, making sure no one was in the corridor. Following you, his eyes grew wide as he saw you open a door to a dungeon, switching on the flickering lights to reveal a small square area room.
The room was dimly lit and dusty. It was surrounded by racks but he could not see what was kept in them. In the centre though, was a single obsolete piece of wooden slab surrounded by long rods of metal attached to it. It must have been an old hospital bed- the kind the troops used. It sat flat against the floor. He looked at you again.
"My daddy used to bring things from the war, whips, guns, handcuffs. Everything. Everything.” Your low voice sent chills up his spine. With shaking hands, he scoured the cupboards, wiping off the dust from his fingers as he came across a pair of brass knuckles and handcuffs. Fingering them, he looked at you as you nodded.
“Do you- do you want me to use ‘em? On ya?” He said. He could feel his already hard dick throb painfully almost, the lust in your eyes making him feel things.
“Use them on me Arvin. I wanna feel you use the cold metal against me as you fucked me so hard I couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You suddenly push him against the cupboards, his back hitting with a thud as you traced his chest through his shirt, scrambling to remove off the offending clothing.
You scratched his chest lightly, fingers gliding against his pecs and abs as they clenched, moving in a sensual manner. He was impatient, you could practically smell his excitement in waves. The scent of his cologne was overwhelming in a way that made your insides tingle with your own arousal.
“Fuck- sweetheart.” He whimpered, his legs weak for you, waiting to feel your walls.
Kissing his neck and then chest and nipples, you dig your teeth around the skin, eliciting a moan deep from his throat. You were shaking with anticipation, hastily removing your frock and throwing it to somewhere. He held you for a second, admiring your body and giving you a gratifying look. His hands linger around your chest, unhooking your bra holding them as he kisses your chest while bending down with trails of kisses down all the way to your tummy.
You pant as he reaches your navel, slender fingers sliding your panties off you as you sigh in relief, ecstatic that you were now fully naked in front of the boy of your desires.
He plunged his fingers inside your dripping core, your legs trembling as he licked off dripping cum from your folds.
“Already wet for me huh? Wait till I use these on you, how will you feel then babygirl? Want me to use them don’t you?” He urges, spreading your legs apart and moving you so that your butt hit the wooden plank. You whimper at the force, back arching as he dribbles your clit with his spit, licking it off you and then standing up. You immediately miss the contact, and thankfully it wasn’t for long before he came back.
He unbuttoned his pants so that he was too fully exposed now, his cock springing out made you crave for it even more now, but before you could do anything, he took your hand, cuffing it to the railing of the plank. You cursed at the tightness, adjusting your wrist so that they wouldn’t hurt. You whimpered when you felt a cold wooden spoon run along your chest. He held the dip of the spoon on top of them leaving indents, his other hand’s thumb kneading into your flesh.
“Is this okay princess? Don’t wanna hurt your pretty little hand. Just wanna hear you moan my name.” He whispered, voice cracking due to the octave it took when you gave a shrill cry of surprise, your other hand clutching at his hair, causing you to lose your balance and falling on your ass.
“I need you Arvin! I need you now please help me!” You cry out, your eyes devoid of tears but your voice showing your emotion. You were hungry, starved and his cock looked delicious. You just wanted him inside.
“A little patience would be appreciated.” He growled against your chest, biting at the sensitive skin. You must have said that out loud.
“I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in me.” You whimper, scrunching your eyes as he nipped at your neck, rubbing the tip of his dick on your clit. His tip was bright red, hard and erect. You wrapped your legs around his shoulder, bringing him down at you. His fingers kept playing while his mouth worked.
“I’m so wet Arvin, only for you baby, look at me, so wet.” The wooden spoon made contact with your chest again, sliding down to your ass as he gently nudged your back. He didn’t hit you, no, that son of a bitch teased you with slow motions of its cold surface. You kissed him till your lips were plump and red with blood dripping off the thin skin, his mouth leaving his lingering taste in yours.
Finally, finally, he slid into you. You gave a shrill cry as his member entered you, your walls clenching around it as if you wanted it to stay in you forever. You arched your back, your waist hitting his pelvis, causing it to slap around him. You unconsciously dug your fingers in his back, gritting your teeth at the sudden sensory input.
“So tight baby. Clenching around me like a fucking ant-eater. You like this don’t you darlin’? Like it when I slide in."
"Yes baby.” You whispered. Sweat dripped off of the both of you, your slicked bodies slapping against each other, “Oh I’m about to cum! Arvin!"
"Cum on me baby, cum on my dick so I can shove in harder.” He clenched himself, mouth forming an O as he felt you orgasm around him, his dick sliding out of you. Pumping his balls, he clenched his jaw at the sight of you, panting under him with your legs spread apart. “You’re such a good girl. Always listening to what I say."
"Because you’re the best.” You flopped down on the board, your back hitting it. You jiggled your arm that was held in the handcuff, the movement bringing Arvin toppling down to you. He fell on your breasts, face smushed in as if he was sleeping on a pillow. You erupted in a fit of giggles as he licked you with kitten-like strips.
“Did you like that? Was that- was that okay?” He huffed, probably as tired as you were right now. His muscles relaxed under your touch, unclenching as you ran your hands on his back. You hissed when you saw that your hand had caused bloody indents on his skin.
“That was amazing sweetheart.” You paused, “I’m so glad we met that day."
"Me too. I didn’t believe in love for a very long time after momma died, and then my daddy died, and then Lenora-” he said, choking on his tears, “- my sister, Lenora, that fucking preacher. He killed her."
"Arvin, baby I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t bring them back. But I can hold you. I can hold you forever if you want. I can love you."
You froze for a moment, realising what you had said. You had met only a month ago, and yet here you were, telling him that you loved him. Your heart did gallops when he didn’t answer for a while, and then you heard it. You heard him say those three words, a soft whisper in the night.
"I love you too."
#arvin russell smut#arvin russell x reader#arvin russel x reader#arvin russel x y/n#arvin russell x reader smut#peter parker x reader smut#tom holland smut#spideygirl writes
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Bonnie and Clyde 2.0 - Biker! Bucky Barnes (smut)
Witten for @firefly-in-darkness movie challenge (I chose pulp fiction) and my own 9k challenge. @band--psycho created the moodboard. You’ll find some parallels to the movie and a few quotes. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Two fugitives on the run, two lovers that live out of a suitcase, leaving their hometown behind to strengthen their connection.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, robbery, guns (nobody gets hurt tho), some good ole’ angst, but a happy end (kind of)
Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (2.4k+)
“Are you ready?” His voice dropped with each syllable that spilled from his chapped lips, metallic arm shining in the bright Los Angeles sunlight. Her pupils slightly got wider behind the dark pair of sunglasses, gaze flickering between her lover and the waitress that tried to calm a pair of unsatisfied customers.
(Y/n) reached for her suitcase with one hand, while the other one tightened its grip on her gun. A slight nod of her head signaled him to rise from his seat, clearing his voice before he raised his own gun, metal just as shiny, just as mysterious as his arm.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky turned towards his girl, smirking as she blew him a kiss.
“I love you too, you crazy motherfucker,” she settled behind him, cocking her gun as Bucky’s voice echoed through the diner, speaking to the confused and scared customers.
“Everybody be cool, this is a robbery.”
--
The wind was blowing through her hair, arms tightly wrapped around his middle, squeezing him with each turn his machine took. Alpine was roaring through the night, rattling as the moon was standing high, guiding the two through the rough land, protecting them from the darkness that lingered behind thick clouds of rain.
Both trusted the road to take them where they would be safe, hidden from the cops that looked for the two that got called “Bonnie and Clyde 2.0” - a cheap nickname the newspapers came up with. Two fugitives on the run, two lovers that live out of a suitcase, leaving their hometown behind to strengthen their connection.
By now it almost felt too natural, too easy to rob one diner after another. It was always the same routine, he’d tell her how much he loves her before drowning his cup of coffee, rising from his seat with a gun in his hand, not planning to kill anyone but the register full of cash.
Not once would they doubt their motives, two lovers that needed money to survive, to make their way through the land, highs, and lows that kept them on their toes. At the end of the day, they’d just be themselves, a suitcase and a bike that swore to take them wherever they planned on driving to next.
Late at night, as they’d crash in a motel on the side of the road, he’d make love to her in the most intimate way. Caring, soft and sweet, kissing promises into her skin, silently apologising for the unstable and dangerous lifestyle he had pulled her into.
Bucky would fuck her on the bed, against the wall, or in the shower, sometimes - just sometimes - he’d pull Alpine over, would stop the engine to fuck her on his bike in the middle of nowhere. His cock would twitch deep inside of her, holding onto her as the burning heat would engulf them, sweaty bodies would meet, kisses would get pressed against their swollen lips.
He was addicted to her, urged on by the adrenaline that would rush through him while he’d speed through the streets, hiding from the cops that kept on looking for the two. They were careful enough, ready to lay low for days on end, parting ways for a day and a night, just to meet again at the end of the road.
They’d dance to Johnny Cash as the sun was setting, whispering tunes only the dead knew by heart. Where the gun is cocked as the bullet’s cold, where the miles are marked in the blood and gold - they’d always meet up further on up the road.
“I’ll see if they have a phone,” (y/n)’s feet tingled, legs quivering from sitting on Alpine for way too long. His metal hand clamped down on her hand, pulling her against his front, not giving her a chance to leave the dark and dusty hotel room. Bucky’s cold breath met her neck, hairs rising, hyper-alert to her surroundings.
“We talked about this, you can’t.” Her heart ached, desperate to hear her mother’s voice again, to talk about the ones she had left behind, sick and poor, healthy and rich, caring or not about her sudden disappearance. She turned around in his embrace, ran her hand through his hair, scratching his burning scalp.
“I just miss her, you know?” A kiss got shared between the two, lips meeting hers to stop her from talking, not used to seeing her this fragile and confused, with waves of sadness crashing through her system. Impatient hands tugged on the zipper of her leather jacket, watching the heavy piece of fabric tumbling to the floor.
“Maybe we just need to distract you for a while,” Bucky’s rough voice sidetracked her from the loud thoughts that screamed at her to run, to rip herself out of his claws. His metallic fingers danced up and down her throat, softly squeezing the skin, a simple reminder of their arrangement, she was his, till handcuffs would tighten their grip on his wrists, ready to convict him for his wrongdoings.
Swiftly he had her pressed against the wall, forcing his hand into her trousers, rubbing her clit through her panties. She panted his name, (y/n) was fighting a war inside her head, holding onto the last strings of sanity that kept her focused, trying to ignore the silent whispers of the darkness, pulling her further into his trap, chaining her to the criminal.
Heavy breaths spilled from their lips, the temperature kept rising, begging them to finally undress themselves, to give into their cravings. Bucky watched her step out of her trousers, working on the dark belt of his, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his clothes. He slipped into her before she could say another word, roughly fucking her as the pictures on the wall began to shake, about to crash to the floor.
“You feel this?” His metallic hand disappeared beneath her shirt, pressed against her lower belly, feeling his cock deep inside of her. Bucky fucked her like it was their last night of freedom, facing the cops that were betting on the two lovers, watching them fall apart as the world was closing in on them. “I’ll always be right here with you, we belong together.”
Her teeth nibbled on his lower lip, hands tugging on the hairs at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. Their orgasms were creeping closer, ready to rock through them, to distract them from the life they were living, allowing them to take deep breaths without worrying about curious eyes.
“I love you,” were the last words she spoke before her walls began to clamp down on his cock, squeezing him, begging him to fuck her through her orgasm. Bucky seemed to understand the signals her body was sending out to him, he kept on snapping his hips against hers, cock covered in her arousal, the sweet drops of her release.
The moment his warmth began to spread through her (y/n)’s legs gave out, body tumbling against his, almost knocking him off his own feet.
Late at night when she was asleep he’d lay next to her with a racing heart. Bucky couldn’t help but feel guilty, hating himself for tainting a pure girl like her, she could live a life filled with love and success, no longer having to sleep on dirty mattresses, to eat cheap meals. She could live the life she deserves. A life without a criminal by her side, though with a man that would cherish and love her just like he should.
---
“You never can tell” played from the jukebox. A few people danced through the diner, moving to the song, singing the lyrics. (Y/n) watched them with a tight smile playing on her lips, sipping on the cocktail she had ordered an hour ago. Bucky was absorbed into the newspaper he had stolen from a gas station earlier that day.
(Y/n) studied him, he was biting down on his lip, eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out if they were in danger if the cops were truly as close to them as the newspapers kept on telling. Words were burning on her tongue, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed and jealous, of the ones that got twirled around by their lovers.
“Don’t you hate that?” A sigh left her, eyes still focused on Bucky, waiting for him to finally lift his gaze off the white paper.
“What?” Just for a second, he placed the newspaper down, waiting for her to speak, to explain her random choice of words. He couldn’t waste any time, had to figure out if they still had enough time to eat before having to cock their guns.
“Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?”
“I don't know. That's a good question.” Bucky tried to stop his eyes from rolling, slightly shaking his head, averting his gaze once again.
“That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, (y/n) was spitting each word, placing her glass down, finishing the way too expensive drink.
Her hands tugged on his, pulling him out of their booth, straight towards the dance floor. She felt her gun moving with each step she took, burning into her skin, preparing for their old routine, the one she could talk about as she was barely awake. In this very moment, it was just the two of them, dancing with one another, sharing kisses, not worrying about the road they’d have to take in a few minutes.
“You need to promise me something, doll.” Bucky’s hand found its way to her jaw, holding onto her as she danced to the beat. “Do you see the door back there?” He twirled her into the right direction, eyes focused on the barely alight door, the one where a lazy waitress had scribbled “exit” onto the wood.
She only nodded her head, didn’t reply to his question, wondering where he was going with this.
“The second I tell you to run, you’ll take off through that door, understood?” Her mouth opened and closed, thoughts racing, trying to figure out if he was coming up with a new routine, anything to set the cops onto the wrong track. But the dark eyes of his told a different story, the almost painful expression he wore explained everything she needed to know.
“I won’t leave you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, hands trembling, reaching for the collar of his leather jacket. Her lips found his, he could taste her tears on her skin, the drops that were as salty as the ocean, rocking his boat back and forth as the sun was setting, painting the dark water in a red shade.
His heart burned, trying to understand that this was the last time he’d see her, the last time he’d get to hold her. She had been like a dream, too good to be true, too colorful for his dark world, a splash of color he was about to wipe off his soul.
“Call your mom for me, tell her I said sorry.” Bucky dried her tears with his lips, kissing along her cheeks, anything to remember the feeling of her skin, the scent of hers he’d hold onto as life has lost its meaning.
Bile pooled in her mouth, insides churning, finally understanding that he was saying goodbye. He was waking her from the dream that had clouded her mind for months, pulling her back into the harsh reality of her life. She couldn’t live without him, couldn’t survive if she wouldn’t breathe the same air as Bucky.
“Take the suitcase and run.” A soft push ripped her off his chest, hands no longer holding onto him. (Y/n)’s vision was blurred, tears kept on streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto the dirty diner floor. Bucky disappeared in the crowd of dancing people, he didn’t spare her another glance, didn’t stick around for long enough to see if she’d make it to safety.
---
Rain was falling from the sky, pitter-pattering against her window. Different polaroid pictures were placed on her blanket, memories she had kept in her suitcase, hidden away for months. The reminders of him had been too painful for (y/n), she barely looked at the pictures she had taken of his handsome face, but she couldn’t make it through the day without touching the necklace he had gifted her, hoping that his scent was still sticking to the metal.
“What’s that?” Her chuckles rumbled through her, naked body placed in front of him, waiting for Bucky to finally give in. He had been teasing her for the past hours, keeping her at arm's length, barely touching her.
“A promise,” his voice dropped, hands finally reaching for hers, “a promise that no matter what, you’ll always have my heart.”
The silvery necklace he pulled out of his jacket got placed around her neck, twinkling in the faint light. (Y/n)’s fingers traced the pendant, smiling at the man her heart had chosen to love. The kiss she pressed against his lips grew raw and hungry, pulling him closer to her naked frame.
Bucky’s fingers ran through her folds, collecting drops of arousal that dripped from her heat, begging him to finally fuck her. She reached for his length, pumped him a few times, silently asking him if he was ready to make love to her all through the night.
Both moaned in unison, holding onto one another, settling for a calm rhythm, trying to get adjusted to one another’s body. Her walls fluttered, feeling the thin, velvety skin of his, exploring every inch of his glorious self, ready to burn her touch into his soul.
“Here, this came for you.” Her mother entered the room with a smile on her lips, placing a card down on (y/n)’s desk. She had left before her daughter could ask any questions, leaving her behind with her loud thoughts. Cautiously she neared her desk, fingers running along the slightly worn-out paper of the card.
“Greetings from Rome” had been printed onto the paper, next to a few pictures. Her hands trembled as she turned the card, a single chuckle left her lips, glassy eyes reading through the words that had been scribbled onto the paper.
No matter what, he’d always have her heart, even oceans apart.
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obiyuki: first holiday alone together?
(Thank you <3 hope you’re doing well!)
Hi nonny! It's been an age since I wrote these two so sorry if they're ooc. This is short and random but I hope you like it regardless, (: thanks for sending the ask & i hope you're also doing well! <3
--
“If we leave at dawn we can take our time and still hit the beach before noon,” Obi says, squinting against the light of his phone screen as he enters his card information. “Sound good?”
“Great,” Shirayuki replies, half asleep in his armpit. The cotton of his shirt is soft and the remnants of his deodorant are mellow now, a pleasant spice to breathe in. “I’ll be your navigator.”
“My North Star,” Obi agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It’s late, but they’re both excited. They’ve talked about a vacation all spring, until eventually Shirayuki got tired of only talking about it; set the plan in motion. Their first overnight vacation as a couple and it’s only three hours away, a night and two days, but it’s enough. When it’s them, it’s always enough.
Shirayuki is almost asleep when Obi adds, “I’m in charge of snacks though.”
“No,” Shirayuki huffs.
-
The room they book is at a shabby motel right off the sea wall. Between work and the cost of everyday living, they’re taking the cheap and easy option every chance they get, so Shirayuki and Obi make the most of it in other ways: a road trip playlist, funky beach towels, a complete set of pails and spades and moulds bundled in a plastic red net, enough sunblock and aloe to soothe even pale, freckled skin. Obi buys too much junk food. Shirayuki pulls out a baggie of sliced apples and cubes of cheese and replaces Obi’s energy drink with water halfway through the drive.
Long stretches of peace on the highway, their favorite songs on loop. Seagulls out the window as they get close. A sense of limitless possibility.
“Hey,” says Shirayuki.
“Hey yeah?” Obi asks, grinning out the windshield.
“I love you.”
Obi’s head jerks, like he automatically tries to look her way. But he keeps his eyes on the road, fingers flexing on the wheel. His grin is softer now. “I love you too, Shirayuki,” he answers.
-
When they finally arrive it’s early afternoon. Their motel is down the block and they can’t check in for hours yet. The waves crash white beyond a curve of golden sand, pin pricked with colorful umbrellas, overrun by parents and their children, those who don’t mind that the sun isn’t as high and bright as summer’s.
“You ready for this?” Obi asks, killing the engine.
Shirayuki exclaims “Yes!” in as ferociously chipper a tone as she can manage, fumbling the door handle and tumbling out to the hot pavement.
“Oh, c’mon,” Obi whines. He leans onto the console to peer out the open door at Shirayuki, easy grin in place. “It wasn’t that bad, was it? My parallel parking has totally gotten better!”
Shirayuki’s knees may waver, but at least her smile doesn’t. “Mhm.”
The wind tugs at her shirt, her board shorts, the fan of her ponytail. They stopped at a gas station on the way in to apply sunblock, so Shirayuki stretches her arms out and basks in the warmth of the afternoon, lets the salt and sand in the wind grate against her skin. “Water, sand, or mermaid first?”
“Water, sand, water, mermaid, water, water—”
“You won’t stay awake past five with all that swimming,” Shirayuki laughs as Obi gets out the car. They meet around back, trunk popping open. Gather their things and sneak a kiss in the relative seclusion, the secret shade, their hands full of plastic pails and cheap towels. Shirayuki pulls back and hums, feeling impish, delighted, excited to crash into the waves. She says, “Maybe you can take a nap during your mermaid makeover.”
“If I wake up buried in sand and don’t have the biggest pair of—”
Shirayuki nudges him silent with her hip, eyeing the walkway next to them for errant children. “Obi,” she says. “I solemnly vow to make you the most voluptuous of mermaids.”
“Thank you,” he beams.
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Dean had been watching Cas toss and turn in the starched motel bed sheets for coming up an hour now.
It had become almost routine over the past week- spend the day researching, wander the town looking for a new cusuine for Cas to try, come back to the motel, and watch him try and evade his nightmares until the early hours.
Dean supposed it had something to do with his new-found humanity- the gravity of the choice Cas had made weighed heavily on him, Dean could tell, and the nights were the worst. As for Dean's sudden protective instinct over the former angel? That he couldn't so easily explain, but he'd wager it had something to do with the ever increasing tension between them as they worked this case, and the growing list of almost-encounters they'd had navigating their new shared rhythm of life on the road.
He would watch as Cas would shift from one side to the next, screwing up his eyes with a sigh against the slow lightening of the morning light, before his bright blue eyes would finally flutter closed, and Dean could rest.
Tonight though, was different. Cas had been restless since they had gotten back from scoping out the hospital, and what little sleep he had gotten between his routine shifts and turns was frequently interrupted- his eyes darting open as a hash gasp was ripped from his throat, the remnants of his waking nightmares dissapaiting.
The clock was turning almost 02:00am when it happened, and Cas had been staring glassy eyed at the ceiling for a worrying length of time, stock still. Dean, squinting to see his face through the dark of the room, was sure he saw a tear beginning to form in the man's eyes, and was just about to call his name, when a bolt of lightning struck through the sky, illuminating the room and nearly blinding him.
Through his closed eyes, Dean heard Cas bolt upright in bed- and Dean gave his best effort at looking unconscious so as not to give himself away.
Five minutes passed of just the rain beating against the thin window before he heard movement. Eyes still closed, he listened closely as Cas rose from the bed, tip-toed to the door, pulled on his shoes, and slipped out of the door.
Dean tried to talk himself down, he really did. He told himself that Cas was a soldier, a trainee-hunter, a former agent of the lord, and that he wasn't going to come into any harm stood outside of a shitty motel in the ass-crack of Illinois...It was no use. He rose from his own bed, quickly shoved on his shoes, shrugged on his leather jacket, and followed Cas out the door.
After blindly stumbling forward, collar turned up against the wind whipping through the exposed pillars of yelowed concrete, Dean saw him, and all at once- the breath left his lungs.
Cas was stood in the open clearing outside their ground floor room, arms outstretched and face turned up against the rain- his eyes alight, and a wild smile had formed on his face. If he was capable of it, Dean might have laughed- he looked biblical.
Making his way slowly towards Cas, his eyes never leaving his friend's face, Dean found himself stood parallel with him.
Neither spoke, until Cas, lit intermittently by the harsh white light of the lightning and wild eyes still pointed towards the heavens, began-
"Millienia ago, before humans walked the Earth, and God became-" he gestured limply towards the world with his outstretched hand "-this, the angels were allowed to freely roam the growing planet."
Cas's voice had took on a wistful, rumbling quality- just audible above the rolls of thunder shaking the atmosphere around them.
"We were encouraged to marvel at God's wonders- we were to feel, live, breathe the Earth as, one day, humans would. To understand them."
Dean could hardly breathe, each cell of his body alight as he stood, transfixed, watching the streams of rain water tumble down the veins of Cas' neck and down his chest- hypotised by the power the ex-angel radiated as he preached in recollection.
"I remember I was stood, on the edge of the first lake to ever be filled, and I watched as the skies opened- watched as the rain poured onto the barren Earth and thunder shook the heavens, marvelled at the significance of it. In that moment, for the first time, I felt Faith. I knew from then on, I would serve."
Dean, having found his voice, managed to splutter out-
"Cas?", growing desperate for Cas to turn his eyes to him. But Cas was not to be stopped, in full thrall of it now he continued-
"In time, the angels forgot- forgot what it was to feel, to love. As God's power and corruption grew, faith was replaced with servitude." A stranged sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob, came from Cas' throat "I forgot too."
At long last, Cas turned his eyes towards Dean, and he felt himself rooted in place- pulled to the cadence of Cas' voice like a moth to a flame. There was a look in Cas' bright eyes that he had seen more and more over the past week- Longing, Lust, Love-
"When I first touched your soul in hell, I felt it then. For the first time in the longest time, I felt the power of God, of storms, of Earth- I didnt recognise it then, but from that moment Dean, I would follow you. I would follow you into battle, I would fight for you-" again, the strange, strangled sound fell from Cas' lips "-I would fall for you."
The water cascading down his hair, flattening it to his forehead, had made a mirage of Cas' face, but even through that there was no mistaking the next emotion he met Dean with- Want.
They were close now, close enough now that Dean could feel Cas' rapid and ragged breath fanning across his face, hear the pounding of his heart over the belts of thunder still tearing through the sky-
"I think...that is what it would feel like- to kiss you."
No questioning now, Dean breathed "Cas...", his own want pulling his eyes towards Cas' chapped lips.
"I'm not Divine anymore Dean, but do you think I could be worthy of that? Of you?"
Beyond words, Dean made his reply by closing the gap between them- drawn like a magnet to Cas's lips, his neck, his chest.
Before he knew it, he was tugging Cas past the shelter of the sand-yellow corridor and into their room. Pushing him down on the crumpled double bed, Dean set about his task- he would attest to the miracle of the man before him in the only way he knew how, not with words, but with acts.
Starting at the base of Cas's hipbone, he kissed his adoration into the cold of Cas's mortal flesh, left trails of reveration marked into his skin as he dragged his fingers up and across his taught chest. He felt Cas' breath hitch as a drank the rainwater collecting in his clavicle like sweet wine, and heard his soft moan as he whispered, like a prayer, into his ear-
"May I?"
Cas nodded his reply. Dean slid off of him and knelt in worship before his now bare thighs in the dark of the silent room. Raising his eyes to meet Cas' hooded ones, Dean spoke-
"You're still divine to me, Castiel"
With that, he sank his mouth to Cas, and let the result of his supplication join the symphony of rain and thunder still pounding around them.
.........
When they rose the next day, still soaked to the bone, Cas' eyes were lighter than Dean had seen them in months- like the atmospheric release that comes after a summer squall.
Dean kissed him intermittently throughout the morning- as he passed him a coffee in his, their, bed, as he lathered shampoo into his hair in the shower, as he tugged an extra shirt and hat around Cas' frame to stave off the inevitable cold that would seize them both.
The drive back to the bunker was an easy one, despite the sleeping Castiel robbing him of the full movement of one arm, and the sneezes that had begun to occasionally blur his vision.
The week that followed wasn't so easy- after relaying their research to Sam (who decided, after taking one look at the palid skin of both of them as they trudged miserably through the bunker doors, that he would go and finish the job alone), Dean had placed a final kiss on Cas' head before collapsing into his bed- feeling sicker and sicker as the hours went on.
When he rose from his fevoured coma to check in on him, Cas was tucked neatly into his bed. Dean closed the door with a smile and went about transcribing the updates Sam was sending through about the next victims, counting the minutes until Cas woke up.
The time never came. He barely saw Cas after that, who had stayed holed up in his bedroom for the following three days.
Dean tried to give him space, to process what had happened between them, but with every hour that passed doubt and insecurity crept further and further in. It was on the fourth day that Dean decided he couldn't take any more silent treatment, bursting through the bedroom door to confront a shocked Cas- eyes red-rimmed and lined with bags.
"Hello Dean"
"Look man, I-" Dean steadied his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose "I tried to give you time to, ya know, figure out what you felt about what happened in the motel because I guess it came out of nowhere and maybe I shouldn't have just sprung myself on you but Cas, buddy, you're killin' me here- what's going on with us?"
He turned his eyes to try and meet Cas', but upon seeing them downturned, and his head bowed to face his lap, Dean's heart sank. He went on-
"I get that you regret it but we're friends Cas, next to Sammy you're the only family I've got and I can't just-"
"I dont regret it." Cas interjected quietly, and Dean's head snapped up.
Looking at the man on the bed, small and unsure, a ghost of the man stood, soaked to the bone, in the eye of a storm, Dean felt himself soften.
"What then?" he knelt before him and tilted Cas' chin up so their eyes would meet, searching "Why have you been avoiding me?"
Guilt flashed in Cas' eyes, moving Dean's hand to rest with his in his lap he spoke, barely above a whisper, "I'm not an angel anymore Dean"
"I know, but what does that have to do with-"
"What happened at the motel was- it was amazing. We were amazing. And then we got back here and- we both got sick and..." Cas' tone was getting more and more hurried and frustrated as he reached the part he had clearly been holding in "You were sick and I could help. I couldn't help because I was sick, and I couldn't even heal myself and I just felt so useless and-"
"Woah woah woah Cas, slow down okay you couldn't-"
"You called me Castiel, Dean- Divine. But I've got no grace, no power- I'm just human. So what use am I to you both now?" Cas bit his lip and looked down again, deflated.
"Hey, Cas look at me, listen okay- Hey!" Dean tugged Cas' face back to being level with his own "I didnt mean it like that" he said softly, understanding dawning on him.
"I called you divine and I meant it- you're beautiful Cas. Stood in that storm, like you belonged there, I was in awe of just the sight of you, but I don't just want you like that, I want you like this too. It was never about you being an angel, or useful, but even as 'just a human'-" Dean rose off the floor to join Cas on the bed "you're still powerful Cas, you're still needed"
Tipping Cas back on the pillow, Dean leant over him- starting at his hand and kissing as he went, he continued "You terrify me, and excite me too. You're still the one who saved my ass, and continues to save my ass even now. You're every bit the angel who walked into that barn and scared us all shitless- the only angel I would pray to, and the man I would kneel to"
Dean hovered above Cas now, placing the last of his kisses onto his temple "Castiel Winchester, you are not and have never been just a Divine tool we keep around. You're our family, and we need you."
It was Cas' turn to tug Dean's face to his own. Eyes wide, he breathed- "Castiel Winchester?"
Dean willed himself to be brave, to break the final seal around his heart and let Cas have it. Leaning back on his heels he replied "Yes. Castiel Winchester. You have been since the start and you still are, Cas- angel or man."
Smiling that same wild smile, Cas scooted back upright "I thought humans only gave each other their names if they were married?"
Dean pulled Cas into his chest, laughing into his disheveled hair "Slow down a bit there sunshine" he kissed his forehead "We have time."
#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#destiel fic#supernatural#I cannot fucking believe#after 6 years#I am back here with you clowns#Posting a fic#for a show that ended months ago#this is the first time I've written a fic since I was 12 please be nice to me#I'm just so distressed over how they ended that I actually cant rest#This is set whenever#I wasnt even a supernatural blog
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FANVIDS MASTERLIST
Sam and Dean
Urban legends The infamous Winchesters : a dark tale
Cornerstone 15 years of ‘there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you’
It’s always been you and me Soulmates : a retrospective
Motel rooms If Heaven was still about driving down memory lane
When is a monster not a monster ? ‘Start by pulling him out of the fire…’
Parentification ‘I had to be more than a brother’
When tomorrow starts without me Last words to a loved one (15x20)
Chlorine
Sam’s blood tale in season 4, his strained relationship with Dean
I will follow you Dean being unable to live without Sam
.
Sam/Dean
Siren ‘This could be perfection A venom drippin’ in your mouth’
Subtext, paratext, intertext ‘You know they are brothers, right ?’
Wincest and The Almighty Is a sin divine when it comes from God ?
And I still love him
Sam reminiscing their story after Dean’s death
Unhealthy Obsession A love you can’t escape
We should be lovers instead (wip)
.
Subtitles by Richard Siken
De mon âme à ton âme (wip)
Sam and Dean’s lethal love
Little Beast
Season 1 aka mutual pining
Wishbone
All Hell Break Loose
.
Homages to wincest fics
About them Descriptions of Sam and Dean’s bond
Missing Sam Dean as Odysseus, longing to reach his Ithaca : Sam
.
Shipcest
Sibling complex (multifandom)
.
Darkchesters
Birds in the storm Listen to demons hiding inside
Ask me if I give a fuck Tearing the world apart
.
American Horror Family
Mad House
The Winchesters Freak Show
Home is where it hurts
From haunting to domestic violence
Your child, your repetition
John, Mary, Dean and Sam’s : the parallels between their deaths and rebirths
.
Show me a hero and I’ll write you a tragedy
Sam I’ve got a secret under my skin
Children and dark magic (multifandom)
.
Dean/John
No fairy tale The one where every member of the family is denied a happy end
Dear Father I hate you for all the sacrifices you made for me/ I love you for always driving me insane
.
Fatherhood
Complicated relationship Oh daddy
We’ll fend for ourselves Letter to an absent father
Oh,,,darlin’ ‘What have I done ? Now I do my talking with a gun’
A hero just like daddy Worship and inferiority complex
Natural born sinner (wip : Sam & John)
.
John’s journal
Sam and Dean’s childhood… as told by their father. His words explain how the events of yesterday shaped their present.
#1 : A Special Kid
#2 : Killer Instinct
#3 : Keywords
#4 : Carry On
#5 : 1983
.
Motherhood
Black wedding (wip : Sam & Mary)
Mothering from the other side Being haunted by and letting go of the ghost of a parent
What I’ve lost Mary, her lost Heaven and children
.
Hunting life
‘Cause you’re a natural A beating heart of stone
I Like It Heavy
The rush
Tired of this job, this life (wip) The hardships
.
Faith
Horror show (wip)
Do you believe in angels ? (wip)
Heaven is just a fairytale to put you to bed (wip)
Can’t play God without being acquainted with the devil (wip)
.
Content warning
Not yours to touch Dean and sexual violence
Walking on the street (wip)
.
— OTHER FANDOMS —
The boys
Gods among men Homelander - Soldier Boy
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The Rooster Sunrise motel and the roots of the narrative at the sunset of the story. A masterclass in Dean characterization
If I didn’t care / more than words can say / if I didn’t care / would I feel this way? / If this isn’t love / then why do I thrill? / And what makes my head go round...
This song plays as Travis comes in to check at the Rooster Sunrise motel - late in the night, later than the motel technically allows checks in. Metaphorically, this episode happens later than it should. Everything happens later than it should. Dean defeats the monster too late, after it gets Travis dead. They’re running a case when they should actually be preparing for the ultimate showdown against God. Dean tells Sam the truth about Jack too late. The very episode is “out of place” in the season - I mean, purposely so - because it gives us a “old style” hunting case in a season where hunting has lost its original purpose in the narrative but has taken a different purpose, as a sort of caricature of itself, as we’ve discussed about before.
This episode is a last. Okay, we haven’t seen the next few yet, but this episode has a specific function, and it is to be the last traditional hunting case of the show. It’s about the past, and that’s why it can happen now that hunting can no longer exist, not really. This season, we have never had real hunting cases. Fake ones, weird ones, ones that just felt off -- obviously because the story is no longer working the way it did before. Chuck’s “hamster wheel” has been fully revealed, and the narrative can no longer function in the old way.
And this episode happens as... a sunset, actually. Or better, both sunrise and sunset because it shows us, in parallel, the beginning and the end. The first case Dean and Sam work together, and what is essentially the last, at least the last with the traditional formula - a monster of the week, a motel, a gross place, a civilian saved, some choking, some yeeting across a motel room, you know how it goes.
(The elephant in the room is the sun/sunrise imagery across the show, especially relevant after the latest episode brought back the Gas’n’Sip logo, of course, but let’s talk about something else here.)
There are many echoes in the episode. 2x11 Playthings, a case in a hotel that involved children. 11x16 Safe House, where a case was run both in the past, by Bobby and Rufus, and in the present, and involves a monster’s nest and visions. Of course 1x18 Something Wicked, where they defeat a monster that targeted kids after an attempt when they were kids had failed to get rid of the monster for good, and where we also get flashbacks of them as kids. And many other little references and callbacks. A pretty major one (*rubs hands together*) is 10x19 The Werther Project, where something supernatural causes hallucinations that make the victim kill themselves; Dean also almost stabbed himself back then. (Cuthbert Sinclair again... bless.) Oh, well, the pilot itself, where Dean and Sam comment that they make a good team. And then Carver-era secret and lies, of course.
And 14x13 Lebanon. (Yes it gets its own paragraph...) Dean smashing the stone in the ring, making the monster disappear, parallels straight to Sam smashing the pearl, making John disappear. The other monster of the episode is John, of course, who drops the kids in some motel alone while he gets “out of reach” when Dean tries to contact him on the phone (callback to season 1, when they kept trying to call John on the phone and he never answered, not even when Dean was dying or they were in their old house in Lawrence and terrified). John only appears as an invisible figure driving the car, symbolically driving their lives (all this “killing God and getting free” is nothing but a mirror to getting free from John’s influence, right). Callback to 9x07 Bad Boys, where we also see a younger Dean and we also deal with the weight of the lifestyle John placed on him, in an episode that features a literal ghost of a parent. (Heck, we even had Dean stealing food - in 9x07 he was caught by a policeman and brought to the boys’ house, now Caitlin jokes about arresting him.)
As 1x18 Something Wicked, we are presented with how growing up among monsters and hunting cases impacted Dean as a kid. Interestingly, Sam tries to reassure Dean in both episodes, telling him that he was just a kid and he shouldn’t be too hard on himself. In 1x18 he had ruined John’s hunt and put Sam in danger (of course the implication is that John put them in danger by using them as bait and expecting a child - addditionally unaware of what was going on - to watch after a younger child), now that he didn’t tell anyone about the nest because it was too horrifying to share that with other kids (of course, he’d also been a kid and shouldn’t have had to investigate a child-killing monster, so the implication is again that John shouldn’t have left them alone and unable to reach him in case of danger. It’s so telling that the episode has Dean discovering the bodies of dead kids while Sam is playing with another kid - although, of course, the game also turns terrifying soon).
So it’s an episode that has it all: the ghost of John Winchester, the way Dean’s parentified role impacts negatively his relationship with Sam (the episode establishes a connection between Dean shielding Sam from the horror of the monster’s nest and Dean essentially shielding Sam from the horror of the latest Jack news, it’s always about Dean feeling the weight of a responsibility to Sam because he’s Sam’s caretaker, even if he ostensibily mentions Billie’s plan and stuff as the reason of his silence), and of course the theme of FEAR.
I’ve been screaming this from rooftops pretty much since I’ve been here on tumblr - fear is the interpretative key to Dean’s character. Since season 1. Since the beginning. (You’re scared. It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too.) Many posts have been written about how anger is a secondary emotion, when the narrative ostensibly had Dean be “angry”. Dean has dealt with fear almost his entire life, and this episode basically works as an asterisk to the season. Hey, we’re having everyone comment on Dean’s anger! Including Dean himself! He says he doesn’t know why he has these outbursts! Well, we do know. Little reminder here now... he’s scared. And he’s scared because he cares, because he loves so much, and when you keep losing what you love you are scared, scared of losing more and more, stuck in a hamster wheel of losing and losing and losing.
In fact, if losing Jack will stop the hamster wheel, he’s fine with it, because as long as they’re stuck in the wheel they’ll lose Jack again anyway, they keep losing everything over and over, Jack and Cas and everyone. In this episode he mentions funerals of hunters, friends, how they couldn’t even attend all the funerals of people they were close to. There were so many. They’ve always been so surrounded by horror and fear and death. He just wants it to stop. (Of course the plan cannot work, just like the immersion therapy method didn’t work for Travis. Well, poor Travis’ idea of facing his fears to overcome his trauma worked very well on paper, just like Billie’s plan seems to be the best option on paper, but we still have a few episodes still to see...)
This episode is an exploration of the motives of Dean’s behavior, and it spells them out very clearly. John’s abuse and neglect, the forced parentified role he had to take towards Sam since a too-early age, the nightmarish horrors he had to see (while shielding Sam from, which reminds me of the infamous scene about Max’s childhood...), the neverending chain of losses with its baggage of fear.
Dean wants - needs - to defeat Chuck, just like Travis needed to face his fears and overcome his trauma. Because Chuck means hamster wheel. And the hamster wheel isn’t just a theoretical lack-of-free-will thing. It’s not just about a philosophical/theological concept. It’s about the very real cycle of horror and fear and loss that Dean has spent his entire life in. It’s about a pile of dead children, both a metaphor for his brutally ended childhood and a very concrete example of what has been haunting him for so long.
His apparently “okayness” with Billie’s plan is not out of a revenge thing or lack of forgiveness towards Jack (of course we can add millions of words about Dean’s relationship with Death). His okayness with killing Amara is... well, only partly about punishing her for, as he sees it, toying with him. His anger is because he feels so much. If I didn’t care / more than words can say / if I didn’t care / would I feel this way?
#my spn thoughts#spn meta#spn 15x16#spn spoilers#dean and trauma#dean and john#dean and fear#dean and anger#parallels#spn
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The Campbells and the Winchesters
Samuel Campbell is introduced in season six, and it is revealed that Sam Winchester has been hunting with him and the other Campbells since Sam was raised from Hell. From his very introduction, Samuel upsets the status quo of the show: He was raised to hunt and raised his daughter to hunt, but is not motivated by a mission of revenge. In the entire show, there are no other characters besides the Campbells who are in this position. This makes them easy to juxtapose against other characters in the show. In this post I will be comparing him to John Winchester and demonstrate how Samuel's choices and attitude towards hunting differs from his and the resulting effects this has on their children. (this got long so the rest is under the cut)
One of the easiest parallels to draw is between Sam Winchester and Mary Winchester (nee Campbell) wanting to leave the hunting life, after being born into it. Samuel Campbell allows Mary Winchester to spend time with John Winchester prior to their wedding and seemed reluctant but ultimately respected Mary’s choice to leave the world of hunting. John told Sam Winchester that if he left for Stanford he would not be allowed to return. While both Mary and Sam had a desperation to escape the “family business” and create a “normal life”, their father’s responses were starkly different
The reason Samuel and John had such completely different reactions to their children leaving the “family business” is because they had different reasons for staying in it themselves. Samuel tells Sam and Dean that the Campbells have been hunting for generations, that he and therefore Sam and Dean were descended from hunters who colonized the U.S.. For Samuel, hunting is noble legacy, something to take pride in but that ultimately is just a job. This is particularly evident by the fact that Samuel and Deanna Campbell owned a house in the suburbs, despite being “active duty”. For John, and for most other hunters, hunting is the only purpose they have left in life, because somebody they love was killed by a monster. John raised Sam and Dean on the road out of shitty motel rooms when he wasn’t leaving them with Bobby. This is why Samuel is ultimately ok with Mary leaving. For Samuel, she is simply seeking a different career. He would prefer she stayed a hunter, because he believes that it’s an important job, but he respects her enough to let her choose the white picket fence. John reacts to Sam wanting to go to college like it is a betrayal. He and Sam and Dean were supposed to be united in a revenge fantasy, and Sam simply wasn’t.
This difference in motivation is evident in other areas as well. John is repeatedly shown to be paranoid and uninterested in working with hunters who are not Sam and Dean. He expects Sam and Dean to be at his beck and call at all times, and only relies on other hunting “buddies” when absolutely necessary (and with the exception of Bobby, this distrust is shown to be well earned. The three men who Sam recognizes as friends of his father threaten to kill Sam’s coworker and feed Sam demon blood because a demon killed their friend on a hunt Sam refused to participate in). Samuel, on the other hand, is less paranoid and falls more under the umbrella of cautious. Dean accuses Samuel of distrusting him, and Samuel says that he just doesn’t know him yet, and invites him on the hunt. This approach, that requires a “trial run” before being included in more important roles on hunts, demonstrates a more rationale approach to hunting than John typically used. Samuel trusts and relies on the other Campbells, and is willing to rely on Dean if he can demonstrate competence and loyalty. In one of the flashback episodes of a previous season, Samuel was reluctantly willing to work with Dean despite not knowing they were family. This was a level of trust John didn’t extend Dean under the same circumstances, despite John not being a hunter yet. Samuel treats his family like business partners, they earn trust and that earns them greater responsibility. He is willing to treat others in the same way. John treats his family like soldiers, who must be loyal and reactive to his every command. He treats others with a supreme level of distrust.
One thing that John and Samuel have in common is a lack of respect for monsters inherent to hunting. They fear them, and they dedicate their lives to eradicating them, but they actively and unquestioningly participate in killing them without distinction. I’m not going to exalt Sam and Dean for occasionally choosing to spare some monsters here because that’s a whole different post about judge jury and executioner and the eugenicistic roots of Supernatural as a concept, but I do want to talk about this. The Campbells, and by extension Samuel, have spent time studying the monsters they hunt beyond just how to kill them. This is of course later coopted as something the Men of Letters and therefore Henry Winchester (John’s father) did, but the Campbells know not just how to cure vampirism, but when the cure needs to be implemented to be effective. This implies extensive experimentation. John’s interests have always been less academic. He might occasionally torture a demon for information, but generally his view of the job has always been limited to just killing the monster due to his own need to assert control over the supernatural after the trauma of losing Mary. This again reflects how Samuel approached hunting as a job and John as a purpose integral to his identity. It also demonstrates the “us vs them” mentality that hunters generally hold.
Ultimately, John Winchester and Samuel Campbell may have had the same career in monster hunting, but Samuel was a rational and level headed man who wanted what was best for his family first and to kill monsters second. John was desperately seeking revenge because he saw it as integral to his identity after Mary died and took comfort in trying to assert control over the supernatural world that he believed was universally responsible for the trauma he experienced, which caused him to prioritize monster hunting over his own family.
#samuel#john#fuck john winchester all my homies hate john winchester#sam#dean#mary#sam and dean#this took so fucking long y'all#imagine if i put this much effort into analyzing characters in fiction that like actually mattered lmao#mine
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Supernatural Rewatch Ramblings: Wendigo
Wendigo
The long line of the MoTW series in Supernatural starts off with the Woman in White which is fairly well- known legend/ myth in most countries. Then we get this one next which claims origin from the Native American mythology.
Here is a review of the Wendigo episode with thoughts from me and @soulmates-for-real
I have always wondered why they were not so inclusive or better at being inclusive as a show. Yes, they did have many women and people of colour in important and strong roles, both positive and negative (though they could have done so much better!). But they steered clear from some of the huge mythology lores like that from Native Americans, Hindu, Latin American cultures. This may have been a wise political strategy to avoid conflict and so they stuck to the Judeo- Christian core but still managed a rather radical take on it!
Spoiler alert:
*God was the final villain?! Who would have guessed? And that the angels were dicks, relentlessly, and demons were in fact ex-humans.*
So back to Wendigo.
What a monster the Wendigo is!! In later seasons when we got only angels and demons and some vampires etc the other monsters were monsters in and of themselves. Like they were born that way—needing to eat human pituitary glands or whatever.
But Woman in White and Wendigo, and even Dead in the Water, or the Shapeshifter --the monster was created by circumstances. Betrayal and infidelity leading to murder suicides, extreme starvation leading to cannibalism and eternal hunger.
Far more terrifying than someone who is born a ghoul perhaps.
So here we are in Wendigo, at the forest/camp site with these fake, charming, rather useless camp rangers who carry M&Ms (nice touch and throwback to E.T. !), don’t wear shorts ( which anyway seems like a weird thing to wear when there is grass and stuff—why would you want to expose your legs?!), can’t see bear traps ( Seriously Dean?! ).
Sam is still restless and bristling at Jess’s death, as well as angry at Dad. All those years of separation do not seem to have given him any peace in his relationship with his father. Now to add massive insult to his already injured sense of self—he has lost his girlfriend in exactly the same way as his father lost his wife—making them even more identical.
So he is cranky and unwilling to give in to any of Dean’s suggestions. He denies his own nightmares, refuses good advice and food and is generally misanthropic. While Dean on the other hand seems to be enjoying this like a happy jolly road trip. The monster is almost like a secondary priority now.
What is most important, (and this becomes even more obvious in a re-watch post finale)—what is THE most important thing is that Sammy is riding shotgun, is in front of his eyes and safe.
Miserable and bitchy but safe.
That allows Dean to dial back a bit and bring into focus what has always been, for him, the really important part of their lives—saving people. This is always more important to him that hunting things. So, when he finds out about someone’s brother being lost and the coordinates match what his dad has left, well there is no choice really.
They have to find a way to save him.
If they find Dad there, well, good, but that is suddenly not a priority for him at all. He turned up at Sam’s doorstep, and as we know from the finale, waited there for HOURS since he was unsure of his welcome, then broke in at 3 am or something like an idiot….but anyway…..all that was because Dad had been away on a hunting trip and hadn’t been home in a few days…blah blah blah.
The first contact Dean makes with Sam who left home to go to college is to recruit him to help find Dad—the same guy who told Sam that if he went away to stay away.
And then suddenly now that Sam is with him, finding Dad is like meh. If we find him somewhere by the wayside while you and I hunt monsters Sammy, then yeah sure, great.
If not…well….we have stuff to do you and I…saving people, hunting things. The family business.
And John Winchester….well, what can I possibly say about him without taking up pages in ranting?! Why did he ditch the first monster? Why was he in SUCH a hurry to leave that he left his journal behind??
My theory of course is that he had to run away from the Woman in White since he had been unfaithful to Mary ( yes yes I know it had been YEARS at that point, but hello, this man made his life a crusade for revenge and sacrificed his kids’ lives also to that darkness, so…yes, being with Adam’s mother was an infidelity and you can’t change my mind on that !).
So naturally John was afraid he would be killed.
But still….he left coordinates for the next hunt in the journal and just ran off?!
The other question is what the hell is happening in motels across USA? Guys like these can just check- in on fake credit cards, leave a room full of satanic and serial killer-y documents, sometimes dead bodies, lots of salt at the door and windows, and just disappear without checking out….
Though the police do seem quite alert and swift in action in the Pilot compared to some of the laidback and clueless ones we see later.
What is most interesting is to see the character of season 1 Dean emerge.
He sass, he boss, he flirt, he lie, he charm, he fight, he save.
In fact, the very first time I saw Supernatural, it seemed that Dean occupied so much of the narrative space that I barely noticed Sam except as a foil to and a brother to Dean.
Now in the re-watch what is fascinating in retrospect is to watch Sam slide into ‘the life’ without a hiccup. He reads the journal, he figures out it’s a wendigo, he gets the civilians to cooperate, he also fights and saves.
And that look he gives Dean in the car?
Well, those who missed the signs in Pilot and didn’t ship Wincest from day one, surely started doing it then!
https://www.geekgirlauthority.com/supernatural-rewatch-s01e02-wendigo/
This is also the first episode that gives a clear parallel to the Sam and Dean relationship through the B plot. When Haley says she MUST go to find her brother –Dean nods in instant understanding while Sam is pissed off at having to ‘babysit.’
We see this in many more episodes in the future, and what is fascinating is to see Sam gain insights into his brother with every such parallel. To recognize what being the big brother has meant to Dean and how much he has done and given and even suffered for that. We will discuss this in more detail in the next episode review! ( Dead in the Water)
The chemistry and ease, almost a fluid sense of flow between the two actors is unmistakable in this episode. Even as Sam is really being a bitch and Dean is being a jerk, there is a definite undercurrent of something holding them together. It may be all about revenge for Jess’s death and finding Dad for Sam, but he will still stick with Dean and want to protect him as fiercely as Dean wants to protect Sam.
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Sheila O’Malley has given a detailed explanation for the acting styles of Jared and Jensen and what she said about Jared is spot on and brilliant. He does what she calls active listening.
It is amazing how once you realize that you notice it all the time.
The reason why Dean can manage such perfect comedic timing or non- verbal communication is because Sam is always ALWAYS tuned into him. Listening, watching, reacting, observing.
Once again, for those of you interested in the meta and more erudite and informed reviews that this one 😊 do read what Sheila O’Malley has written.
Here are some excerpts which will entice you!
“David Nutter, who directed the pilot, also directed episode 2, and there’s a new DP here, the phenomenally talented Serge Ladouceur, who is still shooting the show. If the DP for the pilot, Aaron Schneider, helped establish the dark mood and horror-movie feel of the series, then Ladouceur just helped deepen and strengthen that continuum. The look of the show has changed, by Season 9. I would say that it has a more glamorous look now, more colorful, while certainly still very dramatic (even melodramatic). Supernatural is (and has been) one of the best looking shows on television.”
“The ranger comes in to talk to them, and they pose as environmental studies majors at the university in Boulder. Sam says they are “working on a paper”, clearly improvising, and you can watch the glorious schtick of Jensen Ackles as he adjusts to the new information of who he is supposed to be pretending to be. God is in the details, people, and it’s the detailed scene work of both Ackles and Padalecki that keeps this show going. David Nutter referred to Jensen Ackles once as a “meticulous actor” in terms of his preparation for every scene, no matter how small, and it pays off. He knows what the fuck he is doing. So does Padalecki. I couldn’t give two shits about the demons. It’s that DYNAMIC that is so entertaining and watch-able.”
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And here are some thoughts on the episode from @soulmates-for-real, my partner in crime for the rewatch 😊
Except the fact that Sam is quite secretive about his nightmares but his body language is quite open and his expressions easy to read. On the contrary, I saw Dean posturing a lot with other people, pouting, flirting, making eyes...trying to be all nonchalant. But when it comes to Sam we see a different Dean - the more antsy and angsty Sam gets, the more intensely Dean reacts to him and you can see Dean's concern shining through. Leading to Sam coming to some kind of resolution and giving Dean 'that look' at the end!
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Destiel Chronicles
Vol. XCIV
It was a love story from the very beginning.
And you are not here... (Part. II)
(13x02/13x03)
Hello dears! We are here again, witnessing Dean's mourning for Castiel, and we are suckers for that.
I will try to convey in this meta two episodes, so let's see what happens!
The rejection
At the beginning of the episode, we had Sam and Dean talking about Jack. Dean keeps rejecting the kid because he put on him the weight of loosing Castiel.
They find a motel, and Dean plays the tv, and there's Scooby, and for a brief moment we saw him smiling. Then Dean gives Jack the Bible, and the kid opens it in the Book of Song of Solomon, which is from the Old Testament, and it talks plenty about a two lovers that try to find a way to be together. So the poems describe their passionate and beautiful love for each other, their sadness and their difficulties. Is narrated romantically poetic of that time.
This is very meaningful because the book could be symbolizing Castiel and Dean, trying to be reunited. And the kid is the one who will help to do that. Two lovers that were separated by death but also, who had lived a lot of difficulties together.
Also this quote from Asmodeus:
ASMODEUS: The pain, the, uh, the total humiliation… it forged an eternal bond between us.
Is just a little taste of a dark parallel to Destiel. Is a dark, toxic bond, forged by pain and humiliation, all the opposite of Destiel bond. And we are witnessing this quote because is in the next episode the one Jack will wake up CAS through Dean's mourning. The power of their bond forged by love. The lovers will be finally reunited again.
This scene is when Jack shows Dean is his role model... But also, let's check out the colors...
Go f credit @deansplushy
The room is blue (Castiel) and the kid is imitating Dean, Dean knows it and looks very done with it.
But the whole room is painted in Blue, as if Castiel were in Jack and Dean's mind the whole time.
Then, this foreshadow...
DONATELLO: Sam? Dean? Is God with you?
Donnie was certainly sensing the new God, but also these words...
DONATELLO: (...) So… a few days ago, I’m online, checking out condos in Boca, and I am knocked off my feet by this weird wave of power. Not exactly like God’s. More like… something new, something fresh. I was drawn to it. It’s here.
Something new, something fresh, that's a good description for a new God that just had bey born. Donnie knew it the whole way long.
After this they decided to brought Jack to tattooed the sigil... And this very symbolic dialogue happened between Jack and Dean:
JACK It hurt.
Gif set credit @demondetox
This is the description of grief. So, if Dean was trying to give himself a message and to push the kid into that idea, Jack took it well. He knows he has to endure it. Even if Jack is talking about physical pain, or emotional pain, it fits perfectly with the lesson is floating around loosing Castiel.
Another discussion about Jack happens and this time Dean explodes into hurtful words, and Jack flies away.
The scene in which Sam is talking with him is very beautiful, but also, the colors caught my attention again...
Gif credit @deansplushy
Again, the color blue behind Sam and Jack, is another reminder of Cas. We also have the green (Dean) behind Sam, and Sam is talking about him. Is a very nice played scene, because Dean is to Sam what Cas is to Jack here "a father" but the good one. And Sam trying to explain why Dean acts like this...
SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.
JACK: Why would he be afraid?
SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.
JACK: Maybe I’m not worth all this.
SAM: Your mom thought you were. So did Cas. So do I.
Sam is mentioning one of Dean's inner issues: THE BIG PROTECTOR, as a raised first born, and as a obedient soldier, Dean is trying to fulfill the order his father gave him the night their house were burning and Mary died. John Winchester gave Sam to Dean, and asked him to take care of him, so, the GUILT HERITAGE as I spoke so many times, is playing rudely in Dean right now. He wants to fulfill that mission, because his father asked him to. This is the toxicity in Dean's personality. In harmony with the quote that is said in this same episode: the sons that try to please their fathers.
The Anger and the Patience
When the episode starts, we are immerse into a psychic house, in the window we can see an eye, as a representation of psychic but also, the eye in the triangle represents God. And we all know Chuck is about to come in season 14.
We can distinguish too a book: 'The knowledge of ourselves" in Dede's house. Is an interesting reference to what I about to come: the whole season 14 will be a self-knowledge path Dean will take based on his experience of being faced with himself in the possesion. As I described in my metas, the experience of the possesion is similar to being in Purgatory for Dean: all his human necesites will be gone, and the purity in his heart will be exposed: What do you want?
When Dede is in front of the spectrum, she can see his true form, just like we will see through Anael's eyes, AUMichael's true form.
Let's jump onto Jack's scene watching a video Kelly left him. The mother's message is very pivotal in Jack's life.
KELLY: Hi Jack, it’s uh… I’m your mom. I guess I should tell you, um, I always wanted to be a mom. I’d play with dolls. I was that kind of girl and daydream about my baby.
Kelly is certifying here he wanted to have Jack, Jack was loved. Not rejected, but loved. Kelly says I WANTED TO BE YOUR MOM.
KELLY: Jack, don’t let anyone tell you who you’re supposed to be. Because who you’re supposed to be isn’t fate, it isn’t me, it isn’t your father. You are who you choose to be. And I know you’re going to okay. You are going to be amazing. You have an angel watching over you.
'It isn't me (not human) it isn't your father (not an angel)' is the perfect description of Jack, because he is gonna be the New God. And the last quote is a recall of Mary saying the same to Dean, when she was pregnant. And, emotionally linked to episode 15x18, in which Case says 'I got you' to Jack and then to Dean.
Dean keeps rejecting Jack, calling him a monster, is a blatant self punishment facing the huge guilt he carries in his heart after losing Castiel.
An important scene happens between Missouri and Dean. She, as a psychic, can sense Dean's mourning and depression.
MISSOURI: Oh honey, I’m sorry for your losses.
Dean looks surprised to these words, all the pain he was trying to hide, mostly in front of Jody and her, it shows.
Another self reflection in the mirror of the spectrum foreshadowing Dean staring at the mirror, possesed by Michael.
The conversation between Sam and Jack shows how Jack feels himself as a monster, also he has GUILT, we are witnessing here the GUILT HERITAGE from Dean to Jack, just like John did with him.
Also, Sam see himself in Jack, through his experience with the darkness in the past.
A parallel with Kelly's messages is reflected on Missouri goodbye words to her granddaughter Patience in the cemetery.
MISSOURI: I promise, no matter what happens, no matter where I go, I will always look out for you. You hear?
The words are different but the feelings are the same. Mostly because Sam was reading a book about how to help gifted kids, and this episode talks about two gifted kids: Jack and Patience. The two of them trying to control their powers. But Jack is encouraged to do that and Patience is not allowed to do it by his father.
A little bit interesting point we have in the spectrum WRAITH feeding by psychic's brain, is a continuity with AUMichael living inside of Dean.
When everything ends, Dean has some words with Patience that caught Jody's attention...
PATIENCE: I talked to my dad. He thinks I should put it away. Dad says we should just get back to normal. Maybe he’s right.
DEAN: He is. This life, hunting, monsters, there’s no joy in it. There’s nothing but pain, horror and death. So if you get a chance at normal, you take it.
Dean speaks directly from his broken heart, he had just lost CAS, so he lost everything. There's not meaning in keep living for him. He had seen the death that being a hunter brings. So, he had changed. Everything is sadness, grey and dark for Dean. There's no hopes, no light.
But Jody will speak again, just like Kelly did with Jack, using similar words for Patience:
JODY: Patience, wait. I may be out of line here but you don’t have to listen to him. To either of them if it’s not what you really want.
Not me, not him, Patience need to find herself, just like Jack. Just like the book prayed at the beginning of the episode.
Okay, we are going to focus now in theast scene, so so important!
When Sam sees Dean is back, they started talking about Jack again...
SAM: How was it? Uh, Jody told me about Missouri.
DEAN: Yeah, just another day at the office. How’s the kid? He go dark side yet?
Dean talks about Missouri here with apathy, emotionlessly. This is part of his depression. Then, Sam confronts him.
SAM: No, Dean. He’s messed up because of you. Dean, you said you’d kill him.
DEAN: It wasn’t exactly like that.
SAM: Then how exactly was it?
DEAN: I told him the truth. See, you think you can use this freak but I know how this ends and it ends bad.
SAM: I didn’t.
DEAN: What?
SAM: I didn’t ‘end bad’. When I was the freak, when I was drinking demon blood.
Sam sees himself in Jack in the good way, with hopes, but Dean sees himself in Jack as something that needs to be killed...
DEAN: Come on man, that’s totally different.
SAM: Was it? Because you could’ve put a bullet in me. Dad told you to put a bullet in me, but you didn’t! You saved me! So help me save him!
DEAN: You deserved to be saved, he doesn’t!
SAM: Yes he does, Dean, of course he does!
I will stop here, Dean reflecting himself in Jack is blatant here: HE DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE SAVED. Is the self knowledge of his inner GUILT and MONSTER. Dean sees himself as a monster that doesn't deserve to be saved.
DEAN: Look, I know you think that you can use him as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! Because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we’ve lost!
(Gif credit @foxthefanboi )
Here, my mind went immediately at the scene from previous episode, because Jack behaves so like CAS, and Dean can see it. The pain in Dean's face is getting louder and louder, his eyes, the way he is talking, with cathartic anger will reach the high point when he starts mention the most important person he lost in his life... Castiel. All his pain and anger are because Castiel is gone.
SAM: Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack!
But is not about mom...
DEAN: And what about Cas?
SAM: What about Cas?
Now, the pain and the anger are released in front of his brother. And Sam just confirms and faces it in silence.
DEAN: He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!
(gif set credit @shirtlesssammy )
Sam is silent, he takes every drop of anger and pain from his brother, the very cause of Dean's grief is revealed to him. Dean is mourning Castiel. Dean can't forget CAS is dead. Dean can't forgive Jack, himself , for that. That's why. That's the truth. That's why Sam keeps silent.
But the kid is listening...
The grief and the longing is so huge, Jack is able to reach Castiel in the Empty through it. Just like Amara reached Dean through Castiel.
(Gif set credit @shirtlesssammy)
To Conclude:
These two episode showed us how Dean reflects himself in Jack.The guilt and the pain, together with the anger is so huge in Dean's heart, he can't barely hide it.
Sam is the one keeping the flag up for hopes, but Dean had lost everything.
The profound bond is important again now, because is the way Jack reacher CAS in the Empty and wake him up.
Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!
Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper
@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha
@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh
If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.
If you wanna read my previous meta from season 13 go to this link.
Buenos Aires, December 27th 2020, 12:45 PM
#destiel#destiel chronicles#destiel meta#Supernatural meta#season 13 meta#13x02 meta#13x03 meta#Jack Kline#Dean Winchester#Castiel#Sam Winchester
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7x03 the girl next door
#1: sam uses his hand scar to break himself out of his hallucination. dean taught and encouraged this coping mechanism. aka dean encouraged sam to use self harm as a coping mechanism...knowing that sam would do anything he said.
time tag: 6:59
#2: "girl, interrupted over there" (said to bobby, about sam) why does he feel the need to talk shit ab sam w bobby every chance he gets? if he wanted sam to talk to him honestly, then maybe he shouldn't be a dick 100% of the time. especially about feelings.
time tag: 8:05
#3: "sam's not a curve. he's a frickin' time bomb" (said to bobby) ok so why do you punch him in ab a day? why do u encourage him to continue to hunt? why are u still an asshole?
time tag: 8:10
#4: punches sam the second he opens his motel room door. punches sam, who just had a serious brain injury a couple weeks ago, and who is also experiencing psychosis....dean PUNCHES him. ????? lmk what "good big brother" would ever do this.
time tag: 31:56
#5: "new rule, you steal my baby you get punched" okay . 1) new rule? sam is a grown man he doesn't need rules. and 2) he gets punched if he touches your car? oh sure that sounds fair.
god ive been waiting for this. okay true story: i once stole my older sister's car when i was 15 and i CRASHED it, dented the whole back end, and you wanna know what she did?? literally nothing. she told me i was an idiot and that was it. i sure as hell wasn't assaulted .
time tag: 32:04
#6: interesting parallel of young sam having to use a cold soda to ice his black eye, after getting beaten up by bullies...and present sam having to use a cold soda to ice the same injury, after getting beaten up by dean.
time tag: 32:08
#7: "you never told me that" yeah why the fuck would he dean? u literally get joy out of murdering monsters....
time tag: 33:54
#8: "she's dropping bodies man...which means we got to drop her, no matter how many merit badges she racked up when she was a kid. i'm sorry but it's that simple"
the way dean desperately tries to make what they do "simple" so he never has to look into the moral implications of anything he does.. it's upsetting. if he can't understand the complexity of monsters at the ripe age of 30? 31? then he shouldn't be a fucking hunter.
time tag: 34:27
#9: "look man, i get it. you meet a girl, you feel that spark, there's nothing better. but this freak?" sam's reaction to this kinda speaks for itself. but remember how many times dean called sam a freak in s1-5?? if dean views amy as a cold blooded killer that needs to be murdered, then how does he view sam, if he calls them the same term?
time tag: 35:25
#10: sam, the only one that has history with amy, the only one that talked with amy about the recent deaths, says amy doesn't need to be killed. dean doesn't believe him even though he has 0 evidence to prove otherwise.
time tag: 35:59
#11: "look you don't trust her, fine. trust me." (sam to dean) dean has said multiple times he doesn't value or trust sam's opinion on anything, ever. so kinda dumb of sam to ask him of this ngl.
time tag: 36:28
#12: deans says that he will trust sam because he "got to start sometime, right?" which is a fat ass lie.
time tag: 36:43
#13: "but people, they are who they are. no matter how hard you try, you are what you are." (said to amy) wow. what a beautifuly horrific, degrading, dumbass poem dean. THIS is why sam believed that voicemail in the church with lilth. THIS is why moc!dean is just regular dean. THIS is why dean is 15x17 is not ooc.
time tag: 38:25
#14: "trust me i'm an expert" (said to amy) an expert?? on monsters? no. ur an expert on killing monsters, not monsters lives themselves. SAM knew what amy went through, he knew what it was like to hate what you are, what it's like to try and defy the evil inside you. dean doesn't know jack shit about that. he isnt an expert, he's a bratty child who craves attention.
time tag: 38:35
#15: killed amy. dean knew she had a son. he knew amy was a mortician, and thats how her and jacob got the food to survive. he knew all this yet still murdered amy, and left jacob an orphan. jacob now has no other choice but to murder to survive. very smart dean. big brain.
time tag: 39:14
#16: "you ever kill anyone? well if you do i'll come back for you." (said to JACOB) he's like 8 leave him the hell ALONE dean. threatening a child? god none of us are surprised.
time tag: 29:25
#god i hate this ep#cant wait for deans pity party the next few eps#or the whole rest of series pretty much#dean critical#dean negative#heavy#sam winchester#spn#7x03#the girl next door#hypocrisy#controlling#tw verbal abuse#tw physical abuse#belittling#tw self harm#tw assault#tried to murder sam#im counting this :)#s7
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Romance and chemistry are my no 1 weakness in dramas
I loved the OTP’s development in these couples of episodes. From KangTae surprising the butterflies out of me in wanting to share a room in a motel with MY (you can NEVER convince me it was only for her or that they were just going to dry themselves up. Uh-huh) to moving in with her (it was so not for hyung, or at least not just for him lol) and ending up comforting her in HER BED in the middle of the night. Ooofff. *fans self* Oh, boy! My shipper heart was well fed.
One of my favorite tropes in dramas is when, for whatever reason, the OTP starts living together. I just cannot tell you how much I enjoy it, because it really opens a whole new world of possibilities for the couple and also, it means progress for the story (not that this one is moving slowly, I actually like it the way it is). And yep, they were like a little happy family the morning after the bros moved in, having breakfast. Those 3 characters have been through hell and I really want them to be happy. Sadly, we’re only on ep 6. There’s a lot more conflict to come. But also, more romance and sweet moments, hehe.
I think someone needs to tell him he didn’t answer the question.
I’m really interested in learning more of Moon Young’s life in that house as a child. I know it was a terrible childhood, but I no longer know who was the bad guy here or the baddest. I thought the mom was obviously the biggest problem and source of MY’s trauma (and now we have added the physical abuse on top of the psychological one, awesome), but now with the whole Bluebeard story, and the fact that he tried to strangle his own daughter, I’m thinking the dad is to be considered a huge problem, too.
Of course, something tells me the only reason he tries to strangle MY when he sees her is because she looks an awful lot like her mom and that woman was baaaaad news and drove him crazy. She looked like an angel, but she wasn’t one like our sweet second lead lol. Could it be that he killed Mom and then tried to kill MoonYoung? Is the dad guilty of KT’s mom murder? Or is he somehow related to it? And why is MoonYoung paying for his stay at the clinic and all his other medical issues? I mean, she’s his legal guardian, but after the life he had with the man, I’d be more than understanding if she wanted nothing to do with him. Yet, a part of me thinks MoonYoung’s cares for her father.
What the hell is going on?
My favorite scene in this episode (I have to say that SeoYeji made a wonderful performance). This is what she is behind that arrogant, agressive, unmoving and ice-cold mask she uses in front of everyone. And this is the first time KangTae is seeing her like this. And this time, instead of running away like she yells at him to, and like he did all those years ago when they were children, he choses to stay by her side and hugs her, consoling her after the nightmares about the evil witch. It’s a nice parallel with her dream in ep 3, except this time, it’s real, so it’s a hundred times better.
As a kid, I loved fairy tales... God, who am I kidding? I still love them! So I’m loving all this princess, prince and witch talk. I’m LOVING.IT. The prince has finally entered the castle after all these years, held the crying princess in his arms and told her “I’m not leaving”. Now, how can I not be weak for that?!
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"The people who study this kind of thing say that he was trying to stop because you helped him." The only scene Francis affects with his fake suicide, is the first conversation Will has with Hannibal. It undermines everything he expected to happen. When Francis hits his motel room, his explanation pushes back to Will's initial statement. "If he's really trying to stop, he's not going to kill himself. How could he be sure his death would affect whatever's inside him?" It doesn't need to affect what's inside him, Francis is stronger than the Dragon now. Will very much expected Francis to come for him after he got his hands on Chilton. He hits the pets first, then the family. Remove Francis' fake suicide, remove Will's scene with Reba, and you have Will's initial plan. Francis attacks Chilton, then hits Will in his motel room to break his spine. "Hannibal Lecter is who you need to change." This pushes back to Hannibal breaking Mason's spine. "Dr. Lecter's the one you want to be feeding to your pigs." I'm basically saying Will was planning to help Hannibal escape the moment he agreed to profile Francis for Freddie.
Because Will's plan falls through, his conversation with Hannibal changes. Hannibal surrendered to Jack and sat in the mental hospital for three years because he never lost faith in Will. If he didn't have faith in him, he would've left just as Francis left Reba. Hannibal basically kneeled for the Lamb of God when he surrendered to Jack because he had faith the lamb would become a lion. Hannibal's faith shows in Will's confidence after this scene. He basically tells Jack he plans to become the lion. "The Dragon could absorb him that way, engulf him, become more than he is." Alana finds out she doesn't hold all the keys to the doors because Jack left one open for Will. "We take Hannibal into federal custody. We fake an escape." His scene with Bedelia pushes back to his scene with Jack in 3x4, when they spoke of his decision to call Hannibal. He's "becoming" so he can live with Hannibal because he sure as hell can't live without him. "You've just found religion." Hannibal feels he’s the Lamb of God, so yeah.
What happens when Jack plays the role of God, demanding Will sacrifice Hannibal as The Dragon demanded Francis sacrifice Reba. "All gods demand sacrifices." Hannibal knew very well that Jack would demand Will kill him. This pushes back to 1x4 and 2x13. "I don't need a sacrifice, do you?" Jack reveals his true nature as he informs Alana of his plan. If the escape is staged as it's supposed to be, then the end result would be placing Hannibal back into the mental hospital after killing Francis. That’s why Hannibal talks to Alana about getting his books. But this isn't the case for Jack. He wants Hannibal dead, and for Will not to contradict the official narrative after killing the only family he has left. Huge mistake on Jack’s part. "You're our best shot, Hannibal." Viewed in comparison to previous conversations Will had with Jack. Francis will be hitting their transport. "You hit it. An expression sometimes used in gambling." That last gif, Will is actually planning their swim. “You and I are suspended over the roiling Atlantic. Soon, all of this will be lost to the sea." Poor Jack lost another pony. Mentioned for that purpose. Miriam was presumed dead and Hannibal faked Abigail’s death. The difference between Will’s scene with Jack and Will’s scene with Hannibal, playing games in the dark of the moon. Will’s scene with Jack is passive. Will’s scene with Hannibal is aggressive. Francis planned to kill Will before Hannibal just as Mason planned to kill Will after he killed Hannibal.
The soundtrack is beautiful. “The chase to end all time” hits Hannibal’s 2x12 dinner scene with Jack. It’s basically about Will’s transformation. The end of 3x7 parallels the end of 3x12 and follows through. My favorite season three episode for Will is The Wrath of the Lamb. My favorite season three episode for Hannibal is Digestivo. My favorite Hannigram episode in season three is Primavera. My favorite overall episode in season three is Digestivo. I love Chiyoh's character. I love the valentine Hannibal left for Will in Primavera and the cliff scene in The Wrath of the Lamb. I liked watching two souls getting naked and bloody, then dropping into the Atlantic. Looks like a blood ritual to me. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in this life. Blood rituals involve a symbolic death, and then a rebirth."
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