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randomfoggytiger · 3 months ago

Note

do you have any good mulder hurt/comfort fic recs? Specifically scully comforting mulder? I feel like most fics on ao3 are mulder comforting scully

Collector's Edition: A Tormented Man, At Last, Is Comforted

Sorry this took so long, anon! These recs are nowhere near all.

If you want an entire catalog of fics in that genre, I'd highly suggest reading through @baronessblixen's work-- hurt/comfort and fluff are her specialties; and she writes incredible an Hurt!Mulder (or Mulder post-latest-shenanigans) and Caring!Scully. (I've rec-ed a lot of her fics in the past, so if you search up #BaronessBlixen on my page, they should all pop up.)

I also recommend the "Mulder, Scully, and Season 8 Healing" and Dad!Mulder rec lists on my pinned page; but Injured but In-Charge Scully is practically required reading for this topic (@sarie-fairy's Skamania County is the first that comes to mind.)

Loose chronological order below~

@thursdayinspace's

the ginger invasion

He just about manages to lift his head and there she is, Scully, in his bedroom doorway; she turns on the light and it hurts his eyes, but even as he squints against it the glow of her red hair in the sudden brightness is enough to make him let out a relieved breath. "Hi." He hates to admit when he needs help. But he needs help. And help just showed up.

Early partnership Scully helps Mulder recover from an illness.

travel in style (Tumblr)

She lifts her head and twists around trying to look at him, and when that doesn’t work, she sits up and rubs her eyes, yawning. “That doesn’t look comfortable.”

He sighs. “That’s probably because it isn’t.”

She looks at him for a long moment, obviously thinking.

Scully helps Mulder sleep in the car.

Beshter's Seasons: Second: Chapter 118

"No, come on. I want you to lie down." She tried directing him to her bedroom, but her steering threatened to tumble him over. "Whoa, come on I want you to lie down, let me take your coat off." She began to work off the long sleeve of the jacket he wore. It was summertime in DC, sticky and humid outside. What did he need with a coat in the first place?

Anasazi Scully cares for Mulder's fever after his father's death.

@bytethehand/homecomingserf's fragility

Scully can hear him pacing through the wall. Back and forth, back and forth on the creaky motel floors. He’s got a tendency to pace at night, of course, she knows this, but never this long and never this late and never this fast and loud and anxious-sounding.

Post One Breath Mulder finally lets Scully in.

@welsharcher's The X-Files: The Field Where I Died

With a sigh, Scully walked over and dropped the plastic evidence bag on his desk, savoring the resounding thud it made. Mulder casually looked up; his apathy undisturbed.

Another sigh escaped as she pulled out the book, “Sarah Kavanaugh’s journal was found hidden under a loose floorboard in Melissa’s room.”

Post TFWID Scully attempts to give Mulder comfort.

@officialmulder/specialagentpao's broken hearts, paper hearts

He buried his face in his hands. Scully sat in front of him on the coffee table. “We can talk about it if you want.” Her voice barely a whisper.

AU-- Paper Hearts Mulder finds Samantha's body.

@agent-troi/AgentTroi's Still Walking Into That Room

Mulder remained limp and passive throughout all of this, not reacting in any way except to follow numbly as Scully led him out of the house and back to her car. He sat down when she opened the passenger side door and gently nudged him inside, but he made no move to buckle his seat belt, so she did it for him.

Post Demons Scully needs to know that Mulder will be okay without her.

@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite's

photosensitivity (Tumblr)

“You don’t have to stay in here,” he tells her, trying to sound casual. “If anything happens I’ll just scream in agony.” He doesn’t pull off the joke.

“I’m good,” she soothes.

He called her in the middle of the night with blood down his shirt and she came to find him. It’s been too late to leave for years.

Post Demons Scully and Mulder are confronted by his seizures and her mortality, his past and her present.

folie imposée (Tumblr)

He’s straining, struggling against his restraints to reach her. She unhooks the belt across his chest and he grasps for her, pulling at the straps around his wrists. When she takes his arm in her hands his skin burns hot and pink, rubbed raw by cheap canvas.

She could play his scrapes on a turntable and the vinyl would sing a slow tragedy, a myth reborn in jazz. Cassandra the cursed prophet, reincarnated as a boy who believes in aliens.

Folie a Deux Scully spirits Mulder away.

@amplifyme/wonderland/Lydia Bower's

Affinity/Affinity 01

"Scully. You really thought it was me that night. Right?"

We've covered this ground before. It's one of the few questions he's allowed himself to ask, and one of the queries he continues to make. It's like he's stuck on these few questions like a needle in the groove of an old record.

"Yes, Mulder." I wait for the question that will inevitably follow, the one that never directly addresses what he saw when he burst through the door. He can afford to be vague: we both know what almost happened, what he interrupted.

"And you… you were okay with that."

Second verse same as the first.

"Yeah, Mulder. I was okay with that."

He nods. I haven't changed the answer to that one, either. I think he finds that reassuring, in some odd Mulderish way.

AU-- Post Small Potatoes Scully and Mulder redo that night.

Burning in Heaven

No, not asleep. Her head swung around and he was greeted with a smile. "Mulder. You're still here."

He took another step into the room and stopped. A small part of his brain got busy trying to figure out what it was about Scully that calmed him. Simply walking into her room had settled and centered him. He could feel the threat of shattering begin to reverse itself, his pieces coming back together to make a whole. Scully was his glue.

Post Redux II Mulder and Scully process their raw emotions.

@settle-down-frohike/settledownfrohike's

Missing Scenes (1/3, 2/3, 3/3)

“Mulder…are you sure you shouldn’t have someone examine you?“ he waved her off, scanning the floor for her shoes, doing his best not to appear frantic.

Mulder's journey through the final days of the cancer arc. (Scully comforts him in Part 3.)

120 for the drabble prompt

When he returns Scully is ensconced in pale pink silk, drunkenly slurring at her mother that she’s fine. She attempts to reach for the stack of drenched journals, winces, and that is just about enough for Maggie Scully. She enters the bedroom, raises a hereditary eyebrow at the hulking figure trying to decipher a fitted sheet from flat.

“Fox. Thank you. I think I can take it from here on out.”

It’s not Maggie’s style to be brutish or cruel, but she’s tired, and her tone is a bit more clipped than usual. Mulder remains mute, and nods a yes m’am. He gathers the empty Macy’s bag and passes her as she resumes the preparation of the bed. When she exits, he’s sitting crosslegged on the floor, coffee table askew to make room, trying to peel apart pages from The Lancet mumbling, “just a second, I’ll find it...”.

Her daughter’s hands are roving the top of his scalp, petting and combing through his hair like a beloved dog.

Post Tithonus Scully is not exasperated with Mulder's efforts.

Luctus

She looks over at his sleeping form, studies the exaggerated bow of his upper lip, and thinks what a nursing blister it must’ve made. She gazes back down at the somber toddler in the faded image clutching his mother’s leg and sucking his thumb, her with one hand on his scalp, the other cradling her belly. His humanity is real and disconcerting at this moment. All this time, it felt as though she were merely patching up this omnipotent, otherworldly force, acting as an aid to propel him toward an epic destiny. There’s proof before her now that somewhere, he had a beginning.

Post Sein und Zeit Scully cares for Mulder in the aftermath.

5 Pt. AU Prompts

The words “small cell” are anything but small. They are Goliath, and David is no where to be found. She feels the words rather than hears them. Malignant, it feels like quicksand.

AU-- Mulder has cancer; and Scully is ready for war.

Headcanon (Tumblr)

It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota. She was flipping through a dossier and he was dozing, as per usual. She heard a mumbled version of her name and threw a distracted “Hm?” his way without glancing up. “Scully.” Firmer, more forceful this time. She looked over, annoyed, and spat “What Mu-“ and realized he was still asleep, but fitfully so. His breathing was coming in pants, nostrils flared and his brow was beaded with perspiration.

Mulder's name is a comfort to Scully.

@o6666666's (Ao3)

8, 52, or 89!!

“I think you should go home.”

He shrugged, but in the way small boys do when they are lying, and his eyes were wet.

“You need sleep.”

She knew, and he knew, that he had not been sleeping. She pet his hair and he blinked like it hurt to be treated gently.

He shrugged again.

“Don’t lie to me,” she admonished, and pinched his ear so he knew it was only that she cared for him tremendously.

He laughed but it knocked loose some piece of the great thing inside him that hurt and hurt, and in a moment he was crying.

Post Paper Hearts Scully tries to call in Tena Mulder for support.

AU where Mulder is the one who gets sick in season 4 instead of Scully and Is... is it cruel to request more of the Sick Mulder story?

She wipes his mouth with her sleeve.

“Open your eyes,” she whispers, and he blinks and blinks.

“It’s blurry,” he sniffs.

She wraps herself all around him and lays her cheek to his, adopting his vantage point.

“I don’t wanna wrestle,” he says.

“In a second you’ll see the cabinet,” she says. “Just the plain brown cabinet. And our feet, and my other shoes.”

He sniffles.

“Tell me when you see it.”

AU-- Post Terma Mulder has cancer.

I love you prompt 14?

If you asked Scully whether she crashed Mulder’s disciplinary hearing to be his hype man, she’d tell you no.

But she did.

Scully refuses to let Mulder feel chastised.

@mulder-fight-him's Spiderwebs and Butterflies

She doesn’t know what exactly woke her, but blue eyes snap open suddenly and quickly fill with confusion, suprise, and maybe a little hint of love.

Less than two feet away her lanky partner is sprawled out on her bed. At least she thinks it’s her bed. That’s where she fell asleep last night. She gently lifts her head and takes a quick inventory. Yes. Her bed.

S5 Scully lets Mulder stay after a nightmare.

Anne Haynes's (xf-redux) Irrevocable

I watch her walk away from me, and I try to comfort myself with the picture of how life would have been for her had she not been thrust into my world. I try to see myself, sitting on one of the benches outside the Hoover Building, maybe eating lunch on a sunny day, and looking up to see Dana Scully walking down the sidewalk, a beautiful little tow- head little girl clinging to her hand, laughing and whole. I want to see this. I need to see this.

But I can't.

Because in this future, I don't exist. In this future, I am dead a thousand times over because Dana Scully wasn't there to save me.

There is no comfort to be found.

Scully finds Mulder mourning Emily's death.

Chibiness87's Seeing is Believing

He blinks harshly, gaze trapped by her intense stare. Four points of sensation appear on his neck, and he suddenly realises she is digging her nails in, making him focus.

Chocking, he manages to gasp out, “I can’t stop.”

Scully nods, tightening her grip on the nape of his neck. “Can you keep your eyes open for me?”

He squeezes his eyes closed, feeling his chest tighten. “I can’t… I can’t calm down.”

Her voice is the only anchor he has, and he latches on to it. “I’m not asking you to calm down. I’m asking you to look at me.” Her grip changes, making his face tilt more towards her. Her voice is still gentle, but firm. “Look at me, Mulder. Come on.”

Post Kitsunegari Scully guides Mulder through a panic attack.

DanaScully77's Night Hags and Restless Sleep

“Scully, is it bad the pills didn’t work?”

“Yes.” Scully admits, not wanting to lie to him. Her palm strokes through his hair, a normal occurrence for her when she’s tending to him and worried about his health. Much like his hand on her back, his hair is her calming space. “If you don’t sleep within the next twenty-four hours, you’ll need to be admitted to the hospital.”

“ Scully .”

The whine in his voice is almost childish, but Scully doesn’t comment on it. With how little rest he’s gotten, it’s only natural to resort to young behaviors. “I know, Mulder. But your body can’t survive with no sleep.”

Post-case Mulder cannot fall asleep.

saltringangell's the time it would take (to fix my heart)

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back.

“Mulder, slow down.”

He swings open the front door to the FBI building, wind whipping his hair back and causing her to practically stumble across the threshold. She lets the cool air sting her face, a nice change from the smoke and fire that licked at her skin just moments prior. Mulder continues down the pathway to his car, a little slower now, but still just enough steps ahead so she can’t see his face.

“Mulder, please, just let me-”

“Just get in the car, Scully.”

Post The End Mulder falls apart.

Emeraldsoleil's Beginning to Thaw

His body rippled against hers as he attempted to put distance between then, but a gasp of pain arrested his progress and he relaxed back against her. "I realize this is an awkward position we find ourselves in, partner, but I, uh...I can't move."

"I'm not surprised. Your muscles are tied in knots. I'll try to get the nurse in her to give you a muscle relaxer. Until then, don't try to move to much. You might tear something." She tugged on his hair again. "Doctor's orders."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered. The silence grew heavy, curling around them in a cloud of frustration.

"What is it, Mulder?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Fight the Future Scully and Mulder have a conversation at the bottom of the world.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls’s

mondays on an endless loop (Tumblr)

“Scu… ly,” says Mulder. He takes another breath, and he sounds horrible, inches away. His eyes are half-closed.

“Don't try to talk, Mulder,” she whispers. She moves her hand back to his face, brushing his sweaty hair away, touching his cheek, his forehead. She's forgotten everyone else in the bank; it's just the two of them. “Just… just keep breathing, Mulder,” she says. “Hang on, okay? Keep breathing, Mulder, please.”

He doesn't listen, because of course he doesn't. He rasps, “I'm… sorry,” and then his mouth shuts and he says no more. Heartbeats slowing, slowing.

Mulder, Scully, and the endless Mondays that could be (and were.)

Foxsong 's Ruego

The words were easier to say than she had expected, not shattering as she'd thought they'd be. They were sweet in her mouth. "I love you, Mulder," she said again, marveling at how freely it left her lips. "I love you, love you..." It became a chant, a prayer. She whispered it over and over into his ear and felt how it calmed him, how he steadied against her, how his trembling eased. "I love you." It seemed so important to tell him. Why had she waited so long?

He had finally stopped crying, and was still; and she became aware that he was praying with her, echoing her whispered words. "I love you, Scully... I love you. I love you..."

Post Milagro Scully and Mulder alternate their breakdowns and caregiving.

@baronessblixen/Baroness_Blixen's Lucky

I know what I’m doing, Scully,” he told her, amusement apparent in his voice – famous last words,

“I grew up around here, you know.” If only he hadn’t tried to look good while climbing down the steep trail from the cliffs to the beach. Scully told him to take the long, official way. Of course Mulder dismissed her idea as silly and unnecessary. He insisted on walking ahead, naturally, and Scully let him. He was telling her something about crabs when it happened. One moment she watched his head bob up and down while she tried to find the best, least dangerous path, and in the next instant he slipped.

S6 Scully nearly laughs over Mulder's tumble.

@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys/Slippin' Mickeys's

How about a super shippy MSR fic?

Amongst the pain and the fear and the sensory overload, hers is the mind that shines like a beacon in the night.

It is a revelation.

Biogenesis Mulder is comforted amidst the chaos.

@nowwhateinstein's (Ao3) things you said that made me feel real

He pauses, worrying his bottom lip, as if searching for the right words. “It’s what led me to start looking for her. The desire to find her was my coping mechanism, I suppose. Knowing that she’s out there, somewhere, keeps my fear at bay.”

Something - perhaps it’s intuition - urges me to glance at clock on the nightstand. Of course, I realize with a sinking feeling. 11:21pm, November 27, 1998. The anniversary of Samantha’s abduction. Twenty-five years later, and he’s still searching for her.

Scully realizes her partner is "off."

@greekowl87's (Ao3) No One Is Perfect (Tumblr)

She opened the door and saw the television had gone to a late night infomercial with playing in the background on mute. Mulder was wide awake, laying across his couch with legs crossed, staring at some unknown fixed point. She recognized that look. He was lost in his own thoughts, mulling something over, and he needed to be brought back to Earth.

Post Orison Scully assuages Mulder's guilt.

aRcaDIaNFall$'s Longest Night

"I feel lost." It's the first he's spoken in almost forty minutes. I've been silent, too.

I don't speak, just wait for him to go on.

Sein und Zeit Mulder has a hard night.

@incidental-ao3/incidental's Verlust

She held his head against her chest, fingers stroking his hair, and rocked with him. It was instinct, an act buried deep within her, as she breathed in the smell of him and kissed the crown of his head. He hung onto her like a life raft, his weight bearing down on her as she crouched on the floor in front of his chair. When her shoulders and knees began to scream for relief, she gently extricated herself from him and took his hands in hers, encouraging him up out of his seat. He followed without words or hesitation, letting her lead him across his apartment and into the bedroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed with a vacant expression on his face, his eyes a million miles elsewhere. It scared her, seeing him that way, so completely drawn into himself.

Sein und Zeit Scully opens up to help Mulder process.

@bohoartist/Bohoartist's The Healing Power of Touch

Mulder adjusts his body so he is facing ahead and she turns her face to look at him. She can see the shininess in his eyes and understands perfectly well how the grief of losing a loved one creeps up on you in the most random of times. She thinks of the days and weeks after losing Ahab and how her eyes would well up with tears for no discernible reason as the weight of her loss would crash down on her. She thinks of how he would notice her grief but knew better than to say a word in an attempt to comfort her, instead choosing to brush his hand across her back a little more than necessary, or to push a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

Sein und Zeit Scully keeps vigil.

@writingwell/RocketMan's (xffics) I'll Be Waiting for You

I creep slowly to the sound; I think it's coming from the bathroom.

The door is closed.

I hear . . . the shower running.

I scramble back to my window, the one overlooking the parking lot, and see with relief that Mulder's car is right next to mine.

I must have been too preoccupied to notice it.

Mulder distances himself when emotionally troubled.

@brenayla's (Ao3) 6. He has a nightmare

Scully’s voice says, “Mulder?” She’s groggy; there’s a small, warm hand against his flexed bicep.

He whips around. “Scully?” He echoes, frantically pressing the length of his finger into the divot under her nose.

Scully comforts her partner after his nightmare.

@sigritandtheelves/DarlaBlack's If She'd Known

Is it a miracle from God or a gift from the devil? Some hellish combination of mad science and corporate greed conspire to rip his lungs to shreds and in doing so, strap him down to a North Carolina hospital bed. Scully is tracking down his other records, his brain scans, when they administer the nicotine or it never would have happened. She’s not there when he is poisoned back to life, but first to death. She never would have left him but… His heart stops for a moment. For a moment he is dead. A moment. Then a minute. A full minute. And then it beats again.

AU-- Scully works hard to save Mulder from his brain disease.

Lolabeegood's (mulderscreek) Five Months Lost (Ao3)

"Mulder," she said softly as she walked toward him and stopped his forward motion. She grabbed his wrists and made him look her in the eyes. "I have been, we all have been, looking for you for over five months."

"Five months?" he said disbelieving.

"You didn't go to the conference in Philadelphia, or spend time with the Gunmen, or feel the baby kick until you put your hand on my stomach this morning," she said softly.

AU-- Post Requiem Mulder is returned with false memories.

@monikafilefan/MonikaFileFan's

Pre-IWTB at the unremarkable house

“Doctor Dana Scully?” he asks, head bowed. “I’m here to see Dr. Scully.”

He knows Scully’s shift ends in twenty minutes so they can leave together after she pokes and prods him to her liking, but the waiting room is packed full with injured people. A man with a rag covering a bloody hand sits by a woman with a red welt on the side of her face where half her hair is singed off. Fireworks are as dangerous as lovesick men on ladders.

The intake nurse arches a bleached brow. “And you are?”

Mulder tugs the brim of his Knicks hat lower on his forehead, a niggle of paranoia creeping up his neck.

A familiar voice interrupts, “I’ll take it from here, Margo, thanks.”

Pre-IWTB Mulder's best laid plans go awry.

@greycoupon's (Ao3) Hello Teacher

“Mulder, if you don’t open up I’m calling 911!” That he knew she wouldn’t actually do...would she? THEY were still looking for him. They had been in the house for almost a year and Mulder had left it exactly twice. They weren’t running his profile on America’s Most Wanted anymore but he was still a wanted man. Scully would never risk exposing him like that unless she had to save his life.

Slowly, as his limbs felt like they weighed 200 pounds, he dragged himself to his feet.

“Mulder!” He could hear her sobbing through the door. Quickly he unlocked and opened it. She had been leaning against it and fell into the bathroom in her rush to get to him.

Scully grabbed him and hugged him tightly.

Pre-IWTB deeply depressed Mulder locks himself in the bathroom.

@msrafterdark's (Ao3)

Can you write a fic where Mulder finds some gray hairs

“I feel old,” He confesses, “I feel…like I’m less of what I used to be, like there’s even less to offer you.”

The teasing is gone; the spark of honesty that always frightened yet thrilled him when they were younger is now alight in her eyes. He can’t help but smile softly at her.

“I love your gray hairs, Mulder,” she murmurs, “I love your frown lines, I love your laugh lines, I even love your achy back.”

Scully catches her partner checking for gray hairs.

@oceanofthesky/noifsandsorbees's open door. (Tumblr)

she leaves the key, leaves a way for him to know that if he can ever do what she couldn’t, if he can pull himself out of his head, that she is still right there.

it’s three months before he uses it. she comes home from a long day of work in the height of summer to him in her bed, snoring lightly under the sheets. she thinks she should be annoyed, that she should tell him that she can’t handle the emotional toll that has become their relationship tonight, but instead she is just grateful to have his warmth to crawl in beside.

Breakup Scully leaves the door open for her partner.

@audriesfic/audries's battle scars

it’s a cry of pain and then her name, curving up at the end to become a near pitiful whine. she’s out of the bathroom and taking the stairs two at a time before he even gets past the the first syllable. she’s never been the creative one, in her family or her marriage, but her mind conjures impressive images of sniper bullets through windows and sudden cardiac arrest. she’s breathless by the time her feet hit the cool tile of the kitchen.

his name is on her lips as he turns to her, one hand covering half his face. he fixes her with one puppy dog eye and pouts, points an accusatory finger at the cabinet where she keeps the glasses. it’s eye level, (because who puts glasses on the top shelf, mulder. how do you expect me to reach?) and he looks as though he’s been terribly wronged.

Revival Scully "heals" Mulder's cabinet injury.

BONUS

The Emergency Room is a site compiling Mulder in distress and Scully taking care of him fics.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

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pencopanko · 2 years ago

Text

Sari Mansour was amongst the six media professionals killed by an Israeli strike in the past 24 hours. This video was posted a day before his death. May God have mercy on his soul, and may he rest in peace.

This is his last video.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @sarimaansour

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This is the only way to communicate in Gaza

#free palestine #palestine #sari mansour #remember them #say his name #palestinian journalism #palestinian journalists #Instagram

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motherfornicator · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 3: The Ride (And The Panic That Follows)

Summary: Y/N wakes up in the backseat of the Impala and quickly realizes she's not dreaming—she's actually in Supernatural. After a very awkward first meeting with Sam and Dean, she tries to play it cool while desperately piecing together what's real, what's not, and how the hell she got there in the first place. Spoiler: pretending to be a hunter in a sari is harder than it sounds.

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1627

A/N: Thank you all for the love and support so far 💜

Your eyes fluttered open to the low hum of an engine, the faint scent of leather, whiskey, and something metallic lingering in the air.

For a moment, you stayed perfectly still, your mind slowly piecing reality back together. You’d been certain you'd wake up safe in your own bed, tangled in sheets, sunlight filtering lazily through your curtains. But instead, you felt leather beneath your fingertips and heard the quiet murmur of a radio playing—

"Dude, I’m telling you, she doesn’t need a hospital," Dean’s voice argued from the front seat, mildly irritated. "She's breathing fine, and she just fainted. Probably had too much fun last night."

"We don't know that for sure," Sam shot back. "She could have hit her head or something. We can't just drive around with an unconscious girl in the back seat."

You blinked again, slowly sitting up, your hand pressing against your temple. Your head did ache, but only mildly, like waking up after a long nap. Confusion stirred within you again. This felt too vivid, too detailed. Dreams never stuck around after fainting. Usually, you'd wake up safely tucked in bed, not sprawled across the Winchester brothers' back seat.

A prank, perhaps? A ridiculously elaborate one. But why would anyone, especially actors like Jensen and Jared, travel halfway around the globe just to prank you?

You glanced around the car. Paperwork littered the floor. Sam sat in the passenger seat, a leather-bound journal resting heavily in his lap.

Your heartbeat quickened.

Slowly, cautiously, you pushed yourself upright, blinking rapidly to clear the lingering haze. Your pulse quickened further at the unmistakable view: the familiar interior of a 1967 Chevy Impala.

Your stomach twisted sharply. This was impossible.

You rubbed your eyes once, then twice, hoping desperately that this scene would fade away like all dreams should. But when your vision cleared again, the world stubbornly remained the same.

The two men sat quietly in the front seats, oblivious to your internal chaos.

“Oh no. No, no way—nope.”

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, silently willing yourself to wake up, praying for reality to kick in.

“You alright back there, sweetheart?”

Your heart stuttered painfully.

Cautiously, you lowered your hands and met Dean Winchester’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Genuine concern lined his features, and next to him, Sam turned to look at you, equally worried.

Your mind reeled, spiraling dangerously close to panic again.

Then, without any other logical response to offer, you laughed.

Both men exchanged bewildered looks.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. “Something funny?”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, fighting back tears of nervous laughter. “You guys are good—really good. The acting is fantastic. But seriously, who put you up to this?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You think someone put us up to... this? Are you alright? You feel dizzy or hurt anywhere? Should we take you to a hospital?"

You stared at him for a moment, suspicion creeping in again. "I'm fine," you said slowly, carefully studying their faces. "But come on, this has to be some sort of prank, right? Am I being punked or something? Ashton Kutcher’s gonna jump out of the trunk yelling 'You just got punked'? Because, guys, honestly, I didn't even drink that much."

Dean exchanged a baffled glance with Sam, eyebrows furrowing deeply. Sam frowned, confusion evident. "Ashton Kutcher? What—"

You sighed heavily, pressing fingers to your temples again. "Jared, seriously, let’s just get this over with. You got me. Very funny, great job, prank of the year."

"Who the hell is Jared?" Sam asked, genuinely perplexed.

You froze, eyes flickering quickly between the two brothers. Their confusion looked genuine, the expressions too authentic to fake. Everything was too accurate, too detailed—the boys, the music, the messy interior, even the unmistakable scent of leather and gasoline.

This wasn't right. They looked younger, sharper. Jared's—no, Sam's—hair shorter, Jensen—Dean—appearing exactly like his younger, prime self. Nothing about this felt like a dream. It felt far more tangible, more vivid, more... real.

You leaned back into the seat slowly, feeling the color drain from your face.

"Oh my God," you whispered quietly to yourself, dread creeping into your stomach as you finally voiced the terrifying thought you'd been fighting against. "This might actually be real."

Internally, your mind spiraled into chaos, but outwardly, you forced yourself into calmness, leaning casually against the back seat as though waking up in the Impala with the Winchester brothers was perfectly normal.

Dean glanced at you again through the rearview mirror, suspicion mingling with curiosity. "So, you got a name, sweetheart?"

"Y/N," you answered, too quickly, forcing a smile that felt a bit too wide. "You guys said you were Sam and Dean, right?"

Dean shot you a glance through the rearview mirror, brows knitting slightly. "Yeah, we did."

A tense silence filled the car for a brief moment before Dean spoke again, this time with an edge of dry humor. "Mind telling us what happened back there? You kinda fainted on us."

You shrugged, grasping desperately at the easiest explanation you could muster. "Just a long night, you know? Wedding, dancing, free champagne. You guys know how it is."

Dean huffed out a soft laugh, visibly relaxing just a fraction. "Yeah, we do. Been there once or twice."

The brief humor settled some of the tension in the car, allowing you a moment to steady yourself. Your gaze wandered around the familiar interior of the Impala, the details almost surreal—the worn leather seats, the faint smell of engine oil, the clutter of case notes. Then your eyes landed on the familiar leather-bound book again, resting on Sam's lap.

Your breath caught sharply, surprise overtaking caution. "Oh, hey—is that John's journal?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly, tension flooding back like a wave. Dean’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, and Sam visibly stiffened, protectively pulling the journal closer to his chest. His eyes narrowed, voice cautious but sharp. "How do you know what this is?"

"Oh—uh..." Your pulse spiked, panic clawing at your throat. You needed a plausible explanation, and quickly. Naturally, you went with the first thing that sprang to mind, regardless of its believability. "I'm... a hunter?"

Dean immediately let out a dry chuckle, eyes flicking to you through the rearview mirror with open skepticism. "Yeah, sure you are."

Sam shook his head slightly, clearly unconvinced, skepticism radiating off him. "Look, Y/N, I don't know what your deal is, but hunters usually don't dress like—" He gestured awkwardly toward your sari, visibly struggling to find a polite way to phrase his thoughts.

You tugged self-consciously at the embroidered fabric, feeling your face flush. "Like I said I was at a wedding. Plus, I'm a hunter-in-training," you lied hastily, regretting it immediately when Sam's expression darkened with suspicion. "You know, not official yet, still in orientation."

Dean let out a low, incredulous chuckle. "Hunter in orientation? That's a new one."

You sighed, giving up momentarily. "I get why it sounds weird. But honestly, how else could I possibly know about John’s journal?”

Sam, however, remained suspicious, leaning toward you from the front seat. "Wedding or not, how exactly do you know about us—and that we're hunters?"

Your mind raced. You needed a story that didn't sound as ridiculous as I watch your lives on Netflix. Deciding to take a calculated risk, you drew on your best guess at what season you’d stumbled into. "Word gets around, right? I mean, after the whole Devil’s Gate fiasco, everyone’s been talking."

The tension returned instantly.

Both brothers immediately stiffened once again. Dean's jaw tightened, and he shot a glance toward Sam, suspicion returning in full force. "And how exactly do you know about the Devil’s Gate?"

You forced a casual wave of your hand, panic intensifying internally. "Like I said, hunter grapevine. People talk. And the Seven Deadly Sins, too—when exactly did that happen again? I'm fuzzy on the dates."

Dean and Sam exchanged a wary glance. "You think Bobby talked to anyone else about that?"

Sam shook his head slightly, still eyeing you closely. "No way. That was a closed-circle kind of thing." His voice then took on an even sharper edge of suspicion. "Why do you want to know?"

Desperate and flustered, "Oh, um, it’s... I track my period with big, dramatic events?" you blurted out, instantly cringing internally at your own absurdity. "You know, it's like—a girl thing."

Dean’s eyes widened in the mirror, surprise overtaking suspicion momentarily, before he quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh, okay. That’s… that’s a first."

Sam shook his head, clearly uncomfortable, and turned back toward the windshield. You slumped back against the seat, breathing out slowly in relief.

—

You'd bought yourself some time—but judging from the wary tension filling the car, you hadn't bought yourself much.

The silence in the car stretched awkwardly after your disastrous explanation. You leaned back into the seat, nervously twisting the hem of your sari between your fingers.

“So, Y/N,” Dean finally spoke, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “Where are we dropping you off?”

You hesitated, the reality of your situation sinking in once again. You had no destination, no contacts, and definitely no backup plan.

“Uh...” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Honestly? No clue. I'm kinda new around here."

"You don't say." Dean raised an eyebrow, sharing a skeptical glance with Sam, who still wore a thoughtful, wary expression. After a tense silence, Dean sighed. “Alright, look, we're headed to a motel. You can crash there until you figure your shit out. But try anything weird, and you're walking.”

You nodded quickly, relief flooding you. “Got it. No weirdness.”

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #x reader #reader insert #crossover #dimension travel #breaking the fourth wall

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traditonalclothingresearch · 8 months ago

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Paine, Shelia. Embroidered textiles : a world guide to traditional patterns. Thames & Hudson, 2008.

This reference book features traditional embroidery techniques from across the world. This can be especially helpful when looking at costumes or inspired costume pieces to try and place and recreate the pattern similarly to the original design and technique. This book, "richly display the diversity of items embroidered by different societies and cultures. Each of the items displayed falls into one of the categories of function, motif, symbolism, social indicators or status, and placement of embroidery. The illustrations show the variety of textiles and clothing, from kimonos, sarongs, and saris to purses, bonnets, and napkins, as well as the intricacy of pattern, the delicacy of design, the infusion of color, and the richness of techniques and materials." (Stephen Allan Patrick, Library Journal). The book also contains a dictionary of stitches, proving to be very helpful to quickly navigate the book itself. This book s such works out well for the fashion historian and the costumer, blending the mix of both nicely while remaining a reference book.

#reference #historical fashion #folk wear #embroidery #book rec #cosplay research #costume research

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turtleations · 11 months ago

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KUMA: Never Ending Bond, Chapter 1, Part 4 (Translation)

Preface & Prologue Chapter 1, Part 1 & 2 Chapter 1, Part 3

An episode with HIDE and KUMA, always together

The red mohair sweater HIDE-san was wearing, among other times, at the live at Tokyo Dome, had actually been my own sweater than I had been wearing… When HIDE-san saw me in it, he said, “That’s great, KUMA, lend it to me,” and spontaneously wore it when he went out for the event’s encore.

After that, the fan club made special HIDE-san mohairs, because all the fans wanted them. I still have the various mohairs that I used to wear in partner-look with HIDE-san long ago. The red-and-black striped one that he liked to wear a lot, the same one in black-and-violet, and so on.

And while we’re on the topic of clothes, there was the sari that he wore for encores and advertisements. It tore easily, so I stitched it often. When he wore it for a concert, I always had to have safety pins ready for when it tore. I was always careful with it.

Come to think of it, HIDE-san was wearing the sari for the artist-photos when they debuted, so of course it left a deep impression.

Because there hadn’t been a visual artist that original before him, they said.

Also, we painted his guitars together.

Like the guitar with the psychedelic colors and the paisley pattern that Shishô used as his main guitar. We painted that backstage, and I still think it is so cool.

Shishô asked me, “Do you have anything round?” and I passed him the cap of a spray can. I drew as well, imitating the things Shishô had started with.

Aside from that… most of my memories of Shishô are about music.

Thanks to him, I got to hear a lot of different music when we were together.

Shishô had liked Nirvana since their indies debut in ’89, and there was a period when he was constantly holding Nirvana CDs or photos.

When they came to Japan for the first time in ’92, he invited me: “KUMA, let’s go see them live,” and we went to Nakano Sun Plaza together.

I remember that concert very often. The concert itself lasted only an hour – and there wasn’t really anything like a set on stage.

But instead of being lacking for it, it was overflowing with energy and we were extremely satisfied with it. In regard to this, Shishô observed, “Turns out, something doesn’t need to be long in order to be good.”

There were a lot of bands like Nirvana that Shishô was interested in before their popular break out, and another one that he liked to listen to a lot was Jane’s Addiction.

When I think about it, Shishô was a hard-working person who learned a lot about anything he was interested in. Oh well, I think he really loved music.

Speaking of learning, HIDE-san often told me, “KUMA, you should read more books.”

But that story is tied to the episode of HIDE-san teaching me how to write song lyrics…

What he often said about it was:

“I start by writing what I want to say down like a journal entry. Then I adapt these words to the melody, but when there are words I want to convey, I replace them with better words and phrases. If I were to put down the original version, it would just be a diary entry. That’s why I write it over and over, as if looking for the right puzzle piece.”

“It is important to distinguish between images that can be interpreted in any way, and those that conjure up realistic scenarios. There is no right or wrong way to interpret a song, so what I value is description. It is important to have at least one realistic scene that invokes the same feeling in everyone and allows them to instantly get a sense of the scenery, the world.” That’s what he told me many times.

Regarding HIDE-san, he was someone who read a lot of books. He simply loved writing… That’s why he put such an emphasis on words… He read a lot of books by authors like Mishima Norio. While he was writing the lyrics for “Miscast”, HIDE-san asked me, “Do you understand what this means?” When we were talking about the lyrics, he said, “You should read more books. Start with these authors,” and recommended me Mishima Norio and Hoshi Shinichi.

I still remember how HIDE-san wrote the names of those two into my notebook right there.

Aside from that, Shishô didn’t just read novels but also looked at fashion magazines a lot.

While aboard, he also ran around in search of various issues and made the concept for his own clothes. I said it before, but he was not someone to slack off in his efforts.

Chapter 1, Part 5

#hide #translation #x japan #kuma #matumoto hideto #owaranai kizuna #nirvana #song writing lessons with hide #bean book club

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sarijournal · 1 year ago

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i SCREAMED when he touched her belly

#blog #journal #journey #sari journey #blogger #personal blog #sari journal #captain hook #killian jones #once upon a time #captain killian jones #captain killian jones hook #emma swan jones #emma swan #ouat #ouat 7x02 #captain swan #captain swan 7x02

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kalpanahandmadepaper · 7 months ago

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Journal Diaries: Unleash Your Imagination on Handmade Paper

Handmade paper journals are more than just tools—they’re expressions of individuality, sustainability, and creativity. Whether you’re using a handmade recycled paper notebook for your daily musings or a moonster refillable leather journal for long-term projects, these journals inspire you to create, reflect, and preserve your thoughts in the most authentic way.

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furys-mercy · 1 year ago

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|| WELCOME ||

Welcome to Fury’s Mercy. This blog is largely dedicated to my main OC, August Mercer, and his journal entries, screenshots, drabbles, and memes. That said, alts will be featured and cross-posted. Particularly those alts with ties to Mercer. Which, at this point, is most if not all of them. With this in mind (and the fact that I follow from this blog, and people may be more familiar with another character) I have decided to keep an updated pinned post with my current character roster as well as relevant information about tags and character nicknames used on this blog.

|| CHARACTER ROSTER ||

- | AUGUST MERCER | - | MAIN OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS | - | MACHINIST, ENGINEER, SUMMONER | - | CARRD |

- | SEBASTIAN DE VAIREMONT | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS | - | DUELIST, SOCIALITE, BASTARD | - | TUMBLR | - | CARRD |

- | VISCOUNT CYRILLE DE ARCHAMBEAU | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS | - | FORMER INQUISITOR, ECCENTRIC, IN WANT OF A WIFE | - | CARRD |

- | LADY MARCETTE DE VAIREMONT | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS | - | FALLEN LADY, SOCIALITE, VINDICTIVE |

- | TEO-LINH | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS | - | TRAVELLER, HEDGE WITCH, VOIDTOUCHED | - | TUMBLR |

- | KISHAR SEPELIRE | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS | - | TRAVELLER, VENGEFUL, VOIDSENT |

|| SHIP TAGS ||

#guard my heart - Mercer & his husband X’khal’a Moui

#the crow and dragon - Mercer & his husband Akhutai Urit

#a treatise on love - Mercer & his partner Osha'a (Oz) Relanah

|| STORY TAGS ||

#duplicitous deeds - A completed storyline surrounding a rivalry between Mercer and another goldsmith. Involved Akhutai Urit.

#into the unknown - An ongoing storyline involving both Mercer and his half-brother, Sebastian de Vairemont.

|| NICKNAMES ||

Mercer tends to give nicknames to people that he really cares about. These nicknames may appear in his journal entries, drabbles, or ask responses. So folks know who is who, I have included a list below.

Kid - X’khal’a Moui

Firestorm - Akhutai Urit

Boss - Sasari Sari

Lordling - Sebastian de Vairemont

Starlight - Lazne Urit

#OOC #Blog Information #Tags #Character Roster

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inquisimer · 6 months ago

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Oooh tell me about the wip on your list you most want to share (even if you've been asked about it already) 👀

thank you mo!! I've already shared about my favorite WIP twice aslkgjlkf so second let's talk about the Mahariel cure for the calling fic instead - my first true Dragon Age OC, and the first fic I ever conceptualized for her 🥺

Ask me about my WIPs!

After losing Alistair to the ultimate sacrifice, Sari vanishes from society altogether. She's grieving, she's lost, she's cut loose from everything she's ever known and the only thanks she's been offered is to be asked for even more, so she leaves. Cuts ties with all of her friends (the ones that haven't left, anyway) and wanders, mourning but not even sure how to do that anymore.

Eventually, she settles in a tiny village, gets them to leave her alone by living on the outskirts and helping out with One Major Crisis. Until, Levi Dryden shows up. She didn't help him before, but he still wants to clear his grandmother's name, so when he outs her to the villagers as the Hero of Ferelden and blows her cover, she agrees to go with him in the hope that she can hide out in Soldier's Peak instead.

Instead, they find Avernus, and he has (potentially) the one thing she still wants out of life: a way out of the Wardens. So she submits to his insane experiments willingly. For months. But when it amounts to almost nothing, she takes what knowledge she was able to scrounge from the Warden journals there and goes to Weisshaupt, and then further West, in search of a cure to cut her final tie to the order that stole everything from her.

Bonus fact! It was when I was outlining this fic that I first read Last Flight, because I thought there might be details in there that I could incorporate. Which. It is true, I am incorporating Valya finding the griffons into Sari's time at Weisshaupt HOWEVER I accidentally unlocked a new, unrelated hyperfixation and that is perhaps why this fic has languished in the WIP folder since I finished the outline back in March 😂

and a little snippet :3 this fic is really my close-to-the-chest baby, having been in my brain for 3+ years, but I hope to actually finish it this coming year!

“I’m not interested in reporting you, or exacting retribution,” she said simply. Her nails tapped against the glass. “I read your research, Avernus, and all I want to know is this: can you remove the Taint?” “Remove it?” Avernus tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Not at present, no. My research has been focused on honing and enhancing the abilities inherent to the Wardens’ power. But with enough time, and resources…” That unbidden demon of hope swelled in Sari’s chest again. “What resources?” “Blood, mostly. Warden blood. Lyrium, if we could procure it, would go a long way toward lengthening how much research I could do in a day. And a number of herbs, most of which could be grown here in the Peak with the right arrangements.” His gaze snapped back to her. “You’re still standing here.” “I haven’t heard a ‘no’.” “Most would have stopped me at the requirement of blood. Especially Warden blood. It’s been the subject of several assaults on my position, in fact.” Sari tossed the notebook containing his research at Avernus. He caught it with surprising dexterity. “The blood in my veins is no good to me as it is,” she said flatly. “If it enables you to find a solution to this poison, it will have better served me.” “You saw the cages upstairs.” “I did. You won’t be keeping me in one.” “You’ll come willingly?” “I will.” “Even though it could kill you?” “So could a great many things. It is not unique in that way.” If her nonchalance toward her own life bothered Avernus, he did not show it beyond a slight quirk in his brow. If anything, she felt a glimmer of respect from him instead.

#ty for the ask!!#ask game #dragon age fanfic #oc: sari mahariel #wip: mahariel cure for the calling #long post #ws: the old life haunts the new

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dustinheaven059 · 3 months ago

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What kinda stuff are you into :3

HERMMMM, QUITE A LOT!

Games, listening to music, manga, anime: You can actually easily guess from my favorite characters (An Shiraishi, Akito Shinonome, Minori Hanasato, Airi Momoi, Shiho Hinomori, Ichika Hoshino, Honami Mochizuki, Rui Kamishiro, Nene Kusanagi, Kanade Yoisaki, Mafuyu Asahina, Mika Kagehira, Shu Itsuki, Till from alien stage, Rosaria Genshin, Kaeya Genshin, Heizou Genshin, Wanderer Genshin, Hu Tao Genshin, Razor Genshin, Fischl Genshin, Zhongli Genshin, Yunjin Genshin, Shenhe Genshin, Xinyan Genshin, Celestia Ludenberg, Ibuki Mioda, Nagito Komaeda, Tsumugi Shirogane, Toko Fukawa, Kyoko Kirigiri, Kotoko Utsugi, Monaca Towa, Cyno Genshin, Aventurine HSR, Sunday HSR, Jiaoqiu HSR, Madoka MMG, Homura MMG, K-Angel NSO, Ame-chan NSO, Kokichi Ouma, Junko Enoshima, Collei Genshin, Lyney Genshin, Lynette Genshin, Freminet Genshin, Ororon Genshin, Kinich Genshin, Hiyoko Saionji, Angie Yonaga, Ruruka Danganronpa, Chiori Genshin, Mami MMG, Kyoko MMG, Kazuha Genshin, Furina Genshin, Rika Wonder Egg Priority, Luka from Alien Stage, Mizi from Alien Stage, Dazai BSD, Nikolai BSD, Sigma BSD, Kaveh Genshin, Ivan from alien stage, Qiqi Genshin, Sigewinne Genshin, Firefly HSR, Sparkle HSR, Herta HSR, Signewinne Genshin, Xiao Genshin, Columbina Genshin, Sandrone Genshin, Kevin FPE, Aiden FPE, Cube FPE, Basil Omori, Mari Omori, Sunny Omori, Omori, Mitsuba TBHK, March 7th HSR, Mikan Tsumiki, Shuichi Saihara, Izuru Kamakura, Hajime Hinata, Kate Shadow House, Emilie Shadow House, Barbara Shadow House, Bob Animal Crossing, Mene Tame, Luchika, Michiko Ame, Jiro Nito, Iru Iruma, Riko Maino, Sari Sasori, Tadashi Kunai, Chips FPE, Seek DOORS, Rei Ayanami, Gojo Satoru, Nitta Akari, Nobara Kugisaki, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Shoko Ieiri, Kirara Hoshi, Shouka Nishimiya, Shoya Ishida, Kaworu Nagisa, Shinji Ikari, Kaori Miyazono, Kousei Arima, Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, Suzune Horikita, Kikyo Kushida, Chococat Sanrio, Hello Kitty Sanrio, Kuromi Sanrio, Little Twin Stars Sanrio, My Melody Sanrio, My Sweet Piano Sanrio, Wanmi Sanrio, Tsugi Sanrio, Vinegar NomNomNami, Overlord NomNomNami, Maiden NomNomNami, Space NomNomNami, Nil NomNomNami, Astragalus NomNomNami, Cascascava NomNomNami, Killua HxH, Norman Promised Neverland, Emma Promised Neverland, Misa Amane, L Lawliet, Ririka Momobami, Kirari Momobami, Yumeko Jabami, Mary Saotome, Erimi Mushibami, Runa Yomozuki, Yumemi Yumemite, Sayori DDLC, Monika DDLC, Ryota Suzui, Kaede Manyuda, Pantalone Genshin, Nagi Kamishimo, Karma Akabane, Nagisa Shiota, Koro-sensei, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Giyu Tomioka, Muichiro Tokito, Kanae Kocho, Kanao Tsuyuri, Tamayo KNY, Susamaru KNY, Spider Mother KNY, Spider Daughter KNY, Rui KNY, Douma KNY, Enmu KNY, Sabito KNY, Makomo KNY, Alan WonderEnd 0, Null WonderEnd 0, Juli WonderEnd 0, Yume WonderEnd 0, Tartaglia/Childe/Ajax Genshin, Candace Genshin, Mystic Flour Cookie, Black Pearl Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Frilled Jellyfish Cookie, Mavuika Genshin, Citlali Genshin, Mocha Sanrio, Yanfei Genshin, Charlotte Genshin, Kanade Otokonoji, Kokoro Mitsume, Esdeath, Mikado Sannoji, Stockings, Carl Guchiry, Hajime Hinata...)

UHHH drawing + digital art? I really hate it, though my friends say it's actually good I lowkey think it looks like those edgy cringy bl manhwa characters (I do read them, but I mean THE cringy ones my guy. The ones drawn in 2019 in middle school kinda type.)

MAKING OCCCCSSSSSSS

Learning languages (fun fact: I actually know quite a lot, but that's for another time!)

Writing (proud, kinda good at it🫡)

Poems?? (Yea, kinda surprising from someone like me irl LMAOAOAAO)

Journaling

Uhhhhhhh uh uh uhm- people-watching??? I dunno

Watching youtube

Searching random shit on Google

Psychology??

OBSESSING OVER NEPTUNE I FUCKING LOVE THIS PRETTY DAMN PLANET AND I CAN TALK ABOUT IT FOR HOURS

Talking to friends (including real ones and hallucinations)

Overthink

Sleeping

Zooming out

Talking & not talking

Yapping about random stuff to my friends

Hyperfixating

Searching up illegal shit for writing purposes (no seriously, I have literally 'coca' making instructions if ykwim)

I think that's all I can think of!

#melly #mellyxqz #mel #dustinheaven059 #melly yapping #👤❔️#🌕🪻

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khande11 · 4 months ago

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Millie Winchester- Season 1

Home- 4

A few hours later, Sam, Millie, Dean and Missouri were stood around the messy kitchen.

"You sure this is over?" Sam asked Missouri.

"I'm sure. Why? Why do you ask?"

"Never mind." Sam sighed. "It's nothing, I guess."

They turned their heads when they heard Jenny coming back home. "Hello? We're home." She looked around at the messy kitchen. "What happened?"

"Hi, sorry. Um, we'll pay for all of this." Millie offered, as Dean gave her a confused look.

"Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this mess." Missouri reassured Jenny. Dean stood still, looking confused at how he'd been assigned cleaner. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop." Dean began walking away, when Missouri called out to him. "And don't cuss at me!"

A little while later, after Dean had finally finished cleaning up the mess, the group left Jenny's house. Even though Missouri had assured them the spell had worked, the siblings were parked outside of Jenny's house.

"All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doing here?" Dean asked Sam, who had insisted that they stay.

"I don't know. I just... I still have a bad feeling."

"Why?" Millie asked. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over."

"Yeah, well, probably. But I just want to make sure, that's all."

"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now." Dean grumbled, sliding down in his seat and closing his eyes. Millie rolled her eyes, and went back to reading John's journal to pass the time. Sam looked up at Jenny's window and saw her screaming, just like in his dream.

"Dean, Millie. Look!" Sam yelled. They rushed towards the house.

"You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny!" Dean ordered.

Inside Sari's bedroom, a figure made out of fire stood in her closet. Dean raced to Jenny's bedroom door.

"Jenny!"

"I can't open the door!" Jenny yelled.

"Stand back!" Dean told her, and when she did, he kicked down the door and brought her downstairs.

"No, my kids!" Jenny cried.

"Sam and Millie have got your kids, come on."

Millie was carrying Ritchie in her arms as Sam went to Sari's bedroom, where she was screaming for help. Sam grabbed Sari into his arms, telling her not to look, and meeting with Millie at the top of the stairs. The siblings rushed down the stairs, and placed the children on the ground.

"All right, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back." Sam told Sari. Just as he did an invisible force knocked Sam to the ground and dragged him backwards. Sari screamed and Millie quickly pushed the children towards the door.

"Go, go outside, now!" Millie ordered, pushing them away just as the same force pulled her onto her back and dragged her by her arms.

Sari ran outside with Ritchie, rushing towards their mother and Dean. Dean knelt down to Sari.

"Sari, where's Sam and Millie?"

"Their inside. Something's got them." Sari sobbed, as Dean panickily looked up at the front door, which slammed shut.

***************

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and grabbed a rifle and axe. He rushed to the front door and began chopping at it.

Inside the kitchen, Sam was flung into the cabinets. Every time, Millie tried to get close to him a knife was flung her way, which she had to duck out of the way of. Sam stood up, but was pinned against the wall. Millie went to go to him again, and a knife was hurled at her again, only this time it managed to pierce her leg. Millie cried out in pain, but continued on her path to her little brother. However, as soon as she managed to get close enough, the same invisible force pinned her in place too. Sam and Millie watched as the fire figure from Sari's room approached them.

Dean finally managed to get through the door and raced through the house, looking for his siblings.

"Sam? Millie?!" He called out. When he found them, he raised his gun at the fiery figure.

"No, don't! Don't!" Sam begged.

"What, why?!" Dean questioned.

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now."

Suddenly, the fire vanished and instead of the figure, Mary Winchester was stood in front of them. Millie gasped and Dean lowered his gun in shock.

"Mom?" Dean asked, softly. Millie let go of the breath she was holding, staring at their mother, in sad disbelief.

"Dean." Mary smiled at her oldest, who had tears forming in his eyes. She then turned to her only daughter. "Millie."

Millie let out a strangled sob, smiling sadly at Mary. Mary then turned to her youngest.

"Sam." Sam smiled weakly at his mother, crying. Mary's smile faded. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked.

Mary looked at Sam, remorsefully, then walked away, looking up at the ceiling. "You get out of my house. And let go of my kids."

Suddenly, Mary burst into flames. When she was entirely engulfed, the flames reached the ceiling and then disappeared altogether. The force that was holding Sam and Millie in place was gone, too. Sam and Millie moved towards Dean. The three stared at each other, stunned.

"Now it's over." Sam declared.

***************

The next morning, Dean and Millie were stood by the car with Jenny, looking through their old photos.

"Thank for these." Dean smiled.

"Don't thank me, they're yours." Dean placed the trunk of photos into the car.

Sam was sat on the front steps and was soon joined by Missouri.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure." Missouri sighed, sitting down next to Sam.

"Not even my mom?"

"No."

"What happened?"

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing."

"Why would she do something like that?"

"Well, to protect her kids, of course." Missouri explained. Sam nodded, with teary eyes. Missouri went to put her hand on his shoulder, but stopped. "Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You sensed it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't."

"What's happening to me?"

"I know I should have all the answers, but I don't know."

"Sam, you ready?" Dean called out. Sam nodded and headed to the car. Jenny thanked them, while Missouri watched the Winchesters get in the car.

"Don't you three be strangers." Missouri told them.

"We won't." Dean assured her.

"Bye, Missouri." Millie waved at the woman that she had quickly grown found of, and Missouri waved back at the woman, who had stayed as sweet as she was when she was a child.

"See you around."

The siblings waved to Jenny and Missouri as they drove away.

***************

Back at Missouri's house, she place her purse on the table, sighing.

"That boy... he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea." Missouri said, turning towards the couch, where John Winchester was sat. John rubbed his hands over his face, looking at Missouri.

"Mary's spirit- do you really think she saved the kids?"

"I do." Missouri told him. John nodded sadly, twisting his wedding ring. "John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children?"

"I want to. You have no idea how much I want to see them." John admitted, tearfully. "But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth."

#supernatural #fanfic #millie winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester #oc #winchester sister

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