dwinchcstcrs

[dwinchcstcrs]

@samwchster

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.

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“You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off.”

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@literarysouls

insp.

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Is it better to out monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  — Friedrich Nietzsche

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LYDIA·:

@dwinchcstcrs· !

sometimes she enjoyed living in her own apartment, without the company of her father and overbearing step mother. but there were many times where she looked over her shoulder and was sad to see that barbara or adam were not there. so, as a way to make her mind wander, she went to the local diner and sat at a vacant table. however, it didn’t help much as she got lost in her own sadness. moments later, she looked up and saw someone standing near her table. “oh, sorry! did you want to sit here?” lydia questioned as she wiped at her eyes quickly.

Dean hadn’t been sure whether he should bother her or not. Feelings had never been something he was any good at dealing with. Not his own, not anyone else’s. He didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience with teenagers, either, and wouldn’t it look creepy for him to approach her? Probably. But the kid looked pretty damn upset, so he figured he’d better just check up on her. “Nah, you don’t have to move,” he answered, staying stood for now, not wanting to just invite himself to her table. “You good? You look kinda... uh.” He motioned vaguely to his face, as though that would give an indication as to what he meant.

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REBEKAH·:

@dwinchcstcrs // dean winchester.

 locating the nearest bar seemed to have become quite the feat, nearly taking more than the necessary time to find one. the people inside were, well, for lack of better term a bit on the rough side. then again, this certainly was not a place rebekah had grown accustomed to or would willingly be. fingernails tapped against the hard surface of the counter before receiving the scotch. in one swig, she downed the entire glass feeling the burning sensation trickling down her throat. thump - the same moment as she clanked down the glass something had fallen to the ground. “ for pity’s sake. ” muttering before swiftly grabbing a leather bound journal. “ now someone within earshot please be a doll and collect your little diary. ”

The journal had been kept close to Dean from the moment he’d discovered it. It had just been laying around in his home, as though it had always been there, only being found just a day or two ago. Dean hadn’t seen the damn thing once in his entire life, but it felt extremely important. With all the weird crap going on in town, the-- not dreams, but flashbacks, plaguing his mind, he was certain that the journal was related. Thing is, what he’d seen of it... it was crazy. Straight up, straitjacket, padded cell crazy. He didn’t know what to make of it. Either way, it was one of his most treasured possessions, felt like it held a huge significance to him. So much so that he hadn’t wanted to put it down. 

But apparently, he wasn’t quite being careful enough. Little diary is definitely not what he would’ve called it, but he’d bet there weren’t many people who’d be carrying around something like that at a bar. “It’s a journal,” he corrected pettily, a sour grin on his face as he turned around and-- oh fuck, she was hot. And the accent? Damn. “That’d be mine, doll.” He held his hand out, eyes flickering towards the now empty glass of hers. Huh. “Lemme get you a drink. As a thank you? I’m great company.” 

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HOPE·:

          when you’re running through the woods under a full moon with no thought of pain or trouble ,  just freedom …  there is no greater feeling in the world .  her mothers words are playing like a  broken record  inside of her brain and within moments she’s on all  fours  ,  paws pressed against the soil  ;  the moon shedding light between the trees  .  and she’s running  .  she’s  running  ,  running  ,  running  .  the presence of someone else is  prominent  .   her senses  pulling  her towards them  .  running  ,  chasing  .  it isn’t until she makes contact with their back that she’s  shifting  back into her human form  ,  ripping the jacket from their shoulders and  wrapping  it around her own before they have time to  react  .  the leather fabric serving as a  cloak  to cover her body  .  her heart is  racing  .  she hadn’t expected  anyone  to be here  .  “  i -  i’m sorry .  ”  @dwinchcstcrs

Coming out into the forest alone had probably not been the greatest idea, in hindsight. Something had drawn Dean out here, a strange sense of déjà vu, something lingering on the tip of his tongue. It’s too dark, he knows. It never got dark there. Never got light, either. No moon or sun, just an endless, exhausting forest. His hand feels empty, fist tightens around the cool, night air, and loneliness creeps it. He’s missing someone. Two people, in fact, though he can’t quite see their faces, can’t make out their voices. Wherever it is that this forest reminds him of, it doesn’t feel good. Is it from a dream, maybe? It feels like a nightmare.

Something flings into him from behind, knocks the wind out of him as he hits the ground with a thud. Claws dig into his back, shifting and changing until they're grabbing at his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders. Suddenly all thoughts of that place vanish. 

Now he can remember hounds, giant and growling. They lean over him, sharp teeth bared, drool spilling form their mouths. Phantom pain flares in his torso as the memories replay in his mind, the creatures tearing into his skin and ripping him open until everything should be going black. For a moment, he’s almost certain he’s going to die.

He sucks in a sharp, broken breath as he flips his body and leaps to his feet, the memories and pain fading. Arms held in front of him, it’s clear he’s ready to fight. He locks his gaze on the figure in front of him and-- 

It’s just a girl. 

The tension melts from his limbs, and he’s pretty damn sure he’s going crazy. He would swear he’d felt claws, not hands. There’s sweat on his forehead as he speaks. His voice cracks, and he chokes down his fear and confusion for the girl’s sake. “What-- What the fuck are you doin’ out here, kid?” And... naked? Holy shit. Is she hurt? Being chased? It could be anything, but whatever is happening, it leaves a sour taste in Dean’s mouth, and he’s not about to just leave her there. “Fuck. It’s okay. Let’s get you outta here, my car’s not too far away. You hurt? Good to walk?”

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DAPHNE·:

“Nice to meet you, Dean.”  She smiled politely as she wrote his name on a cup.  “I’m Daphne.”  She placed the cup on the counter for the other barista to fill, eyebrows raising ever so slightly.  She was used to being hit on, it came with the territory of being an attractive woman who worked in a service industry.  She was able to shrug it off relatively quickly and not get too hung up on it.  “As long as we stay on subject, I wouldn’t mind.”  She smiled politely.  “But for now, that’ll be $3 for the coffee.”

“Nice to meet you, Daphne,” Dean grinned and shot her a wink. He seemed unfazed by the obvious rejection, though his ego took a hard blow. He didn’t get rejected very often, was usually quite the charmer. Ah, well. He reached into his pocket for the money and handed it to her, shit eating grin plastered on his face. “What time do you get off?” He could hang around a while, wait for her to finish so they could talk then. He had the time, had the day off from work and didn’t have a whole lot else to do. Why not humour his curiosity for once? 

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Cas is family…

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You’re ready for this. You show those sons of bitches who’s boss.

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DEACON·:

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“So works almost done. Wanna head off to the bar after work? Drinks and dinner on me mate?” He muses as he’s fixing his bike looking up at Dean softly, “I Could use someone to spend time with.” 

Dean gave a shrug of his shoulders. Free food and beer? How could he turn down an offer like that? “You gonna go all soft on me, Deacon?” he questioned with a teasing smirk, looking across towards his coworker from where he was leaning over the hood of a car. He could probably use the company himself, not that he’d admit to it. “I’m down.”

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DAPHNE·:

Daphne expected the guy to look at her like she had two heads at the mention of ghosts.  After all, that was the usual reaction, but she was excited to see that he seemed to be intrigued.  She let out a little giggle when he offered his grin, eyes trailing to the computer as she put in his order.  “You know, all the typical stuff.  Bumps in the night, things moving by themselves, mostly stuff that can be easily faked.  But, someone did say they saw a full-body apparition at the high school, which is either something really cool or someone totally messing with me.”  She shrugged.  “Why, have you heard anything?”  She leaned over the counter, momentarily forgetting that she was at work.  After all, she was always looking for new material for her podcast.  Of course, she snapped back to reality and grabbed a cup and a marker.  “And uh, can I get a name for the order?”

His first instinct was to give a fake name, but he quickly squashed that down. Where the fuck it’d come from, he had no idea. “Dean,” he grinned, then took a quick glance over his shoulder at the queue forming behind him. He probably shouldn’t keep holding her up, he decided. She was at work, after all, and she had a job to do. “I’ve hear plenty. Tell you what, how about we talk about all this over a drink later?” Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t even about getting in her pants -- which, admittedly, would usually have been Dean’s reason for hanging out with a pretty girl. He truly was interested in the topic, wanted to know everything she’d discovered was going on in this town, wondered if maybe it was linked to all the other weird crap going on. (And hey, if he did happen to get in her pants, that would just be a bonus). 

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@dcarjealovsy

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dcarjealovsy·:

@dwinchcstcrs requested a starter!

It wasn’t unusual to see Wednesday in the town park with her crossbow strapped around her back.  She’d set up a little target in a less populated area of the park that, when she needed to blow off steam, she frequented.  That didn’t stop her from using it in other parts of the park, but she rarely aimed for other people.  Just solicitors.  To spice things up today, she took a strip of black cloth and tied it around her eyes.  Crossbow raised to eye level, she shot, staying firm in her stance despite the recoil, and once she heard the arrow pierce the target, she removed the blindfold to see that it hit the center.  She was improving.  “I know you’re there.”  She deadpanned, not bothering to look behind her as she moved toward the target to retrieve her arrow.

It was pretty damn impressive, Dean had to give it to her. Why someone her age would wanna be playing around with a crossbow was beyond him, but hey, she seemed to know what she was doing. Well enough that she could hit a target blindfolded, too. Again, pretty damn impressive. “Just admiring your shot. You got pretty good aim for a kid,” he said to her. He’d never even laid hands on a crossbow, never mind fired one, but he wanted to give it a go. He was a good shot himself. How he knew that... he wasn’t sure, didn’t remember ever firing any kind of weapon, but he was certain. Huh. “Lemme try.” Maybe he could prove himself right.

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STU·:

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Studying to be a surgeon was probably going to be good in retrospect but at the moment? It sucked. His head was always in a book and by the time he did have free time, he was exhausted. Hence why when he went to the bar to get a beer, he accidentally spilled it all over someone when reaching for it. “shit!” stu said before pausing and then saying. “sorry about that.” coming back to life made it even harder to remember what he was supposed to say. “i guess that’s one way to get intoxicated though”

It felt weird drinking alone, lately. It wasn’t the first time he was doing it in any sense, but it felt that way, like he was missing someone. An unrecognisable feeling arose in him every time. Some kind of shadow of a memory he couldn’t see or hear, and he had no clue what was supposed to be in its place. There was something. He just couldn’t put his finger on what. 

One second he was enjoying his beer, lost in thought, and the next, some guy next to him was spilling his own all over him. “Oh, great,” he grumbled, looking down at his wet clothing. It was pretty uncomfortable, but not the end of the world. He didn’t give a shit about his clothes, never really had done, but now he wasn’t going to be able to stay as long as he’d wanted, would have to go back to his apartment to change. Awesome. “Pretty sure you actually gotta drink to get drunk,” he joked, brushing it off. It wasn’t a big deal. “You good?”

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DAPHNE‌:

@dwinchcstcrs requested a starter!

“Did you know that there have been at least five reported ghost sightings in this town?”  Daphne asked, leaning against the counter of the coffee shop she was currently working at and talking to a customer.  “Like, obviously there’s no guarantee that any of it is real, they could obviously be making it up for attention, but…  What if it is?  I mean, jeepers.”  She laughed softly before finally talking stock of the situation.  “And I’m totally rambling.  Sorry.  Can I get you something?”

“Ghost sightings?” It wasn’t exactly the topic Dean was expecting to discuss with the barista, but he was down. He’d thought crap like that interesting for as long as he could remember. And hey, she was hot. Why not stop for a little conversation? “A woman after my heart,” he teased, offering up a charming grin. He’d heard about a few ghost stories in town himself. Of course, they could have been fake. Like the woman had said, could have been people making things up for attention, but what if they were real? The ones he'd heard felt familiar, somehow, and an odd, miserable nostalgia he couldn’t wrap his head around came along with them. It wasn’t a feeling he wanted to poke too much -- he never had been any good with feelings -- but the reports were interesting all the same. “What’ve you heard? There’s some weird crap going on in town.” From what he'd heard, anyway. And truthfully? He just had a feeling about the place. A gut feeling he didn't remember having before. "Just a black coffee. Thanks.”

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➳ JENSEN ACKLES, MALE, HE/HIM, SUPERNATURAL i’d like to welcome DEAN WINCHESTER to browning harbor. i’ve heard a rumor that the FORTY year old MECHANIC has NONE of his memories. friends describe him as DRIVEN and EXPLOSIVE 

After 14 seasons (soon to be 15!!) of this show, there is A LOT I could say about Dean Winchester, but I’m going to do my best to keep it brief. In case anyone wants to see more info on him, here’s a link to his wiki page. 

Born January 24th 1979, which makes him an Aquarius.

Brother to Sam Winchester, son of John and Mary Winchester.

Scarily codependent on Sam, would do literally anything for him. Best friends with the angel Castiel. All three of them are like dads to Jack.

John raised him more like a soldier than a son, and he was responsible for Sam starting since he was 4 years old, when Mary died. So he pretty much raised Sam himself. 

Hunts monsters of all kinds and considers himself one of the best (and tbh, he’s not wrong).

Has temporarily been a vampire, a spirit, a demon, and possessed by the archangel Michael. 

Has died a lot.

Bi af and flirty af (though he gets kinda flustered with men sometimes).

Badass but secretly a huge nerd.

Anger issues and violence issues -- violence tends to be a good answer to most things in his mind.

Hates talking about feelings. 

He currently doesn’t have any of his memories, but when they come back to him, he will remember up to the end of s14 (and probably s15, when that comes out). Currently, he believes that he grew up in town as an only child and with a fairly average life.