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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Six of the Number of the Beast Week:

@1967-impala THIS IS MY FAVORITE ONE I’M SO EXCITED

Can You Still Feel Me Loving You?

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

summary: TFW returns to the bunker after a hunt has gone wrong, with Dean unconscious & in critical condition. Cas can only do much to heal what is broken, and Dean needs to find the strength to resurface from his own mind.

pairing: destiel [no specific genders, implied mlm]

genre: angst, oneshot fic

rating: completely SFW, not explicit

warnings: major character injury

word count: 1.1k

author's note: I wrote this as a really abstract way to describe grounding, but interpret it how you'd like <3

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

Okay.

One.

Hurting.

Love.

Promise.

The steady, heartbeat drumming pulsed through his arm to the rest of his body, a shallow source of energy that kept his concentration.

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

Okay.

One.

Hurting.

Love.

Promise.

"Dean? Dean? You need to stay with me. Stay with us, Dean. We've got you, you just need to stay awake for a little longer, alright? We were gonna have a movie night, remember? Tombstone. The good one. You told me... What did you tell me Dean, about the movie?"

His eyes fluttered, a dew drop sign of life on his lashes.

"Come on, Dean... What did you say? Can you remember what you said about the movie tonight? Wh- what state are they in, Dean? What's the name of the gunfight?"

The angel was worried now, as he could see what the others couldn't- he could see the saturation leaving Dean's body, seeping slowly through the gash in his head. The young nephilim and the other hunter didn't understand- couldn't understand- what was happening, or why, or what they could do. Tears streamed down the young angel's face, and the hunter's turned a pale and ghostly white, his own saturation dulling inside his soul.

Okay.

One.

Hurting.

Love.

Promise.

Dean faded in and out, like waves on a beach, vaguely registering the sensation every few minutes.

Castiel had one hand on his upper arm, the one he had gripped tight, and was gently squeezing each finger on top of the handprint to the heartbeat: to the words Cas was sending into the shallow, fading depths of his mind.

Okay.

One.

Hurting.

Love.

Promise.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Thumb.

Pointer.

Middle.

Ring.

Pinkie.

Somehow, Dean's pulse managed to hum along with the angel's tune.

Okay.

One.

Hurting.

Love.

Promise.

I'm going to help you, Dean. Alright? It's going to be okay. It'll be okay. I've got you, I have you. You're with me now, Dean, it'll be o-

Go through it one more time, boys, and y'all better not let your guards down. Do you know what happens to the hunter who lets his guard down? Well? Answer me! Redirect the attack, Dean, what the hell are you doing?? We'll be doing this again, and again, and again, until you two learn how to fight like goddamn men, you hear me? One more time! Gimme o-

Fuck, Dean. You couldn't have been more gentle when popping my shoulder back into place? I know, I know, I guess catching someone off-guard to gets the dirty deed done quicker. Lemme take a look at that gash... Jesus, Dean, don't you remember how Dad taught us how to block hits, or at least redirect them? You could've prevented this, I know you could've. You're an excellent hunter, you know that? You taught me all the good shit. Hey, hey, hey, it's gonna be hurting for a while, dude. You gotta take better care of yourself, you hear me? I'm gonna grab the stuff to do stitches and I'll clean you all up. I know you're h-

I love you! Did you know that? How many times have I told you... That many, really? Wow! Do you know what number that is, Dean? Five, very good! One, two, three, four, five! You're so smart, aren't you? I know you miss Daddy, hunny, but he'll be home soon, alright? Mommy and Daddy both love you very, very much. Oh, no, is that Sammy crying again? Okay, teddy bear, do me a favor and watch the TV for a few minutes, alright? Mommy's gonna go check on Sammy. I'll be right back, I lo-

And then, a memory that Dean couldn't remember. Something so close, yet so far away. His own voice, drifting into his ears, like listening to the recording of a dream...

I did not think this would be the day... but it is. It is, and that's- man... that's okay. I need you to- I need you to promise me. I need you to- to... to tell me- that it's okay. I need you to tell me that it's okay. Promise me that it's okay. P-

"Dean... it's okay."

Okay.

One.

Hurting.

Love.

Promise.

Then an echo of a voice.

"It's okay, Dean. I need you to hold on a little longer, okay? What's that one quote... from the movie, from Tombstone- the one- I'm your Huckleberry, that's it. Do you remember that? Dean, I know you're hurting, but you need to wake up so I can help this, so I can fix this. I don't want to see you like this, but I need you to be strong so I can be strong, you understand that? Damn it, Dean. I- I can't lose you now. I love you. And I'm going to stay with you- right here- until we get through this. Together. I promise."

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The chilling, icy sensation started in Dean's arm, and somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he could feel it.

...one...

The handprint was glowing bright blue, cold to the touch, then numb, like frostbite.

...two...

The contrast between the scar and the flames licking at his legs was excruciating- but the pain held hope.

...three...

He could feel something, feel agony, not the emptiness that was was trying to swallow him whole.

...four...

He could sense Castiel pulling him up, up, up, out of the flames, out of the fire, out of whatever hell his subconscious was dragging him down into.

...five.

Castiel saw the color revive in his soul- Dean's eyes, now open, barely open- not glazed over, just soft and confused and pained.

The early morning dew returned.

Castiel squeezed Dean's arm, a sign that he would have never left him, that he would have stayed with Dean for five seconds, five days, five thousand years- if that's what it took him to pull through.

A shudder of relief as Cas pulled him close, felt his warm breath on his neck, felt his eyelashes swipe across his cheek, felt his chest heave and his tears pour across both of their faces,

the morning dew that survived the midday sun, glittering in the moonlight.

Castiel placed the deepest kiss he could afford onto Dean's temple, letting his grace wash over him in waves, breathing in his scent- the blood, sweat and tears that the man had poured into his survival, his family's survival- until Cas could feel the life and strength fully return to the broken man's body.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not hurting anymore, Cas."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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✗ NOT w!ncest, please don't make it icky! ✗

Day Five of the Number of the Beast Week:

@1967-impala scream cry throw up

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

"I want your psycho, I want your ugly, I want all the most disgusting parts of you that you think nobody will ever love - I loved all of those things."

~ Lady Gaga, on creating 'Bad Romance'

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Five of the Number of the Beast Week:

<3 @1967-impala cry.

Lay Your Weary Head to Rest ~ don't you cry no more

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Four of the Number of the Beast Week:

<3 @1967-impala

Halley's Comet comes

At seven and eighty-two

Will I see you here?

Or will I be gone,

Amongst stars, watch the angel-

Fall for my remains.

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Four of the Number of the Beast Week:

shhhhh @1967-impala not late

Beware, it Goeth Before the Fall

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

summary: In which the Apocalypse cannot be stopped, an Angel falls, and the King of Hades welcomes him.

pairing: destiel [no specific genders, implied mlm]

genre: poetry, fallen angel/king of hell AU

rating: completely SFW, no dark themes, just love

warnings: none

word count: 147

author's note: it's just a fun little poem, besties <3 enjoy!

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

For when the world ends,

Our Love shall begin.

As the unabated sunlight,

Scorching,

Scalding,

Shatters the halo-

The two fresh Horns,

Jagged,

Jab at the hands of god.

And the earth shall return to Dust,

stardust,

a Memory of the universes

and the angels

nestled in their paradise.

And I shall feel You call,

an Echo beckoning me

to advance to the Gates of

the Inferno.

With a whine from Cerberus,

as the Guarding hounds

shy away from the

Broken, Beaten

grace from god-

I will kneel

with a burned Torch in

my Heart of Hearts-

And hear in my head

the Focus of Your finger,

Decorated with diamond bands,

summoning me,

your simple servant,

to Your side.

And as You take my Hand,

brush Your Lips against

my Soul,

You gesture to the seat-

the Throne-

where the King

Converts the Pauper

to a Prince.

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Three of the Number of the Beast Week:

<3 @1967-impala istg it’s still not late <3

Les Yeux ~ the eyes

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Three of the Number of the Beast Week: Checkmate

@1967-impala not late lmfao

-> my plan is to eventually digitize these or make more, btw, so this post may be updated later!

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Two of the Number of the Beast Week:

<3 <3 @1967-impala also definitely not late

Anti-John Winchester Club

• available on my redbubble soon •

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day Two of the Number of the Beast Week:

<3 @1967-impala no this isn’t late idk what you’re talking about

Too Many Think Lightly of Sin

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

summary: Castiel, a faltering priest. Dean, a soldier returned from war. Between struggles of religion, mental health, and a love unaccepted by the church, Dean finds himself broken and betrayed.

pairing: destiel [mlm]

genre: angst, priest/soldier AU

rating: mature (not explicit, SFW, mentions the topic of sex to emphasize the difference between platonic love and lust in a religious manner)

warnings: major character death (not graphic), dark themes, religion, homophobia (internalized & externalized), PTSD, war, mental health, alcohol, implied suicide, etc.

word count: 1.9k

author's note: thank you, @1967-impala for proofreading this!! I hope that it doesn't disappoint <3

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

Defender of Faith.

Sing a prayer for a little lost Love, my darling.

𖤐

He looked charming in gold. Unlike the church, housing glass and black and silver. The priest was something else.

"Did it hurt?", the soldier asked.

"You think I haven't heard that one before?", the priest responded.

"I don't think you've heard it from another man before, no."

The soldier's ego faltered as he recalled the conversation.

Had that really been their first?

He had felt like an idiot after the words slipped out of his mouth, but the priest...

There was no shame. The small laugh, letting the jester know that he can take a joke, the sly smile on the lips. The interaction bordered on sinful, but there was nothing unholy about it.

No lies,

no greed,

no envy,

no lust:

just the human yearning for unconditional Love.

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

The blue eyes, blue like the ocean, blue reflecting the gold hues surrounding them, bright blue- a color that is fundamentally cool- yet the warmest thing that the soldier had ever felt gazing down on him.

Girls?

Oh, girls he could kiss and run. Girls he could have one-night stands with, girls he could leave before the glowing sunlight of morning let them see the freckles on his face.

Girls... Girls, he could hurt.

The- thing that he felt for Cas was a whole different breed.

Cas.

Castiel.

God, even his name sounded Angelic. The way that-

"...animals procreate is in a different manner than humans do. It's irrational, it's for survival, no matter whether pleasure and consent are existent in the procreation or not..."

The end of their conversation drifted away from the soldier's mind. He didn't want to remember the words that flew out of the priest's mouth, a desperate attempt to cover up whatever the Holy man thought he had committed.

He didn't understand.

The soldier never asked to sleep with him,

never implied it-

But the priest was just like the rest.

Believing that the only love two men could experience would be sinful.

No sin.

It was a hit and run by the one he looked up to, the man that the soldier wanted.

A hit and run that left roadkill of a Heart.

𖤐

"Are you a religious man, Mr. Winchester?"

The soldier wasn't necessarily Happy in the earth-toned therapist's office, but any trace of Joy that showed on his face quickly drained.

"No."

"Were you raised religious?"

His father: the atheist.

His brother: the omnist.

His mother: died when he was too young to even understand or ask what religion was.

A word flashed behind his eyes: "agnostic".

"I don't have a specific opinion, religion is based on what humans fear exists after death, not usually what they should be doing in their life. At least that's what I've noticed."

Set up for disappointment if you believe in the Ethereal Perfection of Heaven.

And set up for Eternal Damnation if you don't.

"I guess I believe in the effect that we have on each other here on Earth."

"So, Mr. Winchester, what effect- what impact, what legacy do you believe you will be leaving behind after you die?"

𖤐

Chest pains, crying, anger, screaming in the darkness, punching arms and legs and sides and heads and hands, muscle spasms, hot flashes, cold flashes, dry heaving, nightmares.

"I served, too."

The soldier glanced toward the front of the church, realizing that the priest had been present for the entirety of the time that he had spent there.

"How did you know that I-"

"I can see it in your eyes."

He walked towards the seated man in the back of the building, who was considering leaving before he got himself into a conversation that he didn't want to have.

"And what do you see?"

"Heartbreak. Terror. Loneliness. Fear. Nothing."

The soldier’s eyes fluttered, avoiding the religious figure's gaze.

"I'm not lonely. Or afraid."

The priest patted his shoulder gently, sitting on the bench beside him.

"Oh, sure. If that's what you think."

His words weren't harsh, they were filled with floating sincerity. If that's what the soldier thinks.

"It is."

"Alright... May I ask you a question?"

He wouldn't prefer it, but this was his home, his territory, his Kingdom, and he couldn't deny the man's request.

"Shoot."

"Do you pray?"

“Not a day in my life.”

“You don’t talk to anyone, any higher power, any god when you feel trapped?”

“No, not my thing.”

“You should try it sometime, it might help.”

The soldier smirked, repeating the Pure man’s words from earlier:

“Oh, sure. If that’s what you think.”

The priest smiled, a wide, Joyful smile, standing up to leave the stranger alone.

“Did it hurt?” Dean asked, leaning back, arms strung around the back of the bench.

And the small laugh from Castiel followed.

𖤐

The stench of beer floated into Dean’s nostrils, and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave.

But Cas was his companion,

his buddy,

his Partner.

“Drinking partners?” Cas had asked.

“Why the hell not?

A chuckle echoing in the church corridor.

“Tomorrow, at 7:00 PM.”

“Whatever you say, Cas.”

“Cas? I don’t think you’ve ever shortened my name before, Dean.”

The soldier felt a twinge of embarrassment as he realized that once again, his head had deceived him.

A whole world, a sorrowful, hopeful, heartbroken, terrified, fearful, empty world in his mind.

“I haven’t? Do you mind?”

“Not at all, in fact, it rolls off your tongue quite nicely.”

No lies,

no greed,

no envy,

no lust:

just the human yearning for unconditional Love.

No sin.

Cas had hooked his arm around Dean’s as they entered the bar without thought.

It was Natural, warm, perfect.

And the sickening feeling and memories of hangovers and drinking to forget the pain disappeared.

As they sat, and drank, and talked, with pats on the shoulder and slamming glasses on counters, Dean had pushed Cas’ hair to the side. It had been falling into his face all evening, and Dean didn’t like how it covered his eyes when he looked down.

But as soon as Dean’s hand had brushed the hair- spending just an instant too long with his forearm lingering against his cheek-

Castiel pulled back slightly.

And Dean knew it would never work.

Yet he, the soldier, had Faith.

Sing a prayer for a little lost Love, my darling.

𖤐

A drink turned into a dinner,

a dinner into an evening,

an evening into a second date.

Date?

Neither of them would admit they were dating.

But they could see it in strangers' eyes-

how they watched the two men hold each other in their arms, taking walks together in the night, glancing at the reflection of the stars in their eyes, wishing desperately for the morning sun to never arrive...

for the light to not reveal what they had done-

and in those strangers' eyes, they could see their Love glancing back at them.

Dean could see their silhouettes, the perfection of the broken man and the Holy one comfortably nestled together.

But Castiel couldn't.

All the priest saw was the agonizing formation of lust and regret.

No sin.

No sin...

𖤐

One day.

Then two.

Then five.

Then a week.

Then he stopped counting.

He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had stepped foot inside the church.

He couldn’t remember the warm golden glow, the specific hue that was the color of his eyes. Blue like the sea? No, not the sea. No, no, blue like the sky…

Shouldn’t they be the same?

Shouldn’t they be Equal?

Equal.

Balanced.

A Heart against a feather.

“Oh, Father. I- I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Dean, Dean Winchester, but I was hoping to find-”

“Castiel, I expect?”

“Yes, is he here? Is Cas…” The nickname faded away, his voice failing him, as if he had been shouting for hours on end. It felt foreign now, a hollow compilation of sounds.

The balance tilted.

“Moved about… a month ago, I guess? Left the church.”

“He- he left the church? As in, he’s not religious anymore?”

Faltered.

“I don’t know the specifications, Mr. Winchester. Is there anything that I may help you with, or were you only looking for the specific man that you were… interested in?”

And the balance tipped completely to one side.

Dean was shocked at the words, the bitterness ringing in his ears.

Somehow, he knew. This man knew what he wanted, what Cas had wanted, pretended to want.

“Have a good afternoon, Mr. Winchester.”

𖤐

Why had Cas-

Why had Castiel insisted on following the truth?

The written rules, never designed to be followed in this age, never created for men like him.

Like Cas.

But Cas had disagreed.

“It won’t work, D.”

The only time a friend, a Lover, had shortened his name, a softness added to the end of the name he had heard so many times with hints of anger, hints of guilt.

From fathers, from brothers, from generals.

“Did you hear me, Dean?”

And then it was gone.

“Yeah, Cas. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

“We weren’t thinking, Dean. Neither of us, that was the problem. But I prayed to God, and-”

“God?”

Blood formed on the interior of his cheeks.

“God has nothing to do with this, with us. God doesn’t understand what we have, religion doesn’t understand. The Bible was written by men who existed in a completely different society, a different world than us. They thought it was wrong, it-”

It doesn’t have to be, Cas.

Again, their minds read each other’s.

You know it does.

“I don’t have a choice, Dean. I need to follow what’s right for me.”

“Oh, sure. If that’s what you think.”

And the Angel walked away, leaving a stunned demon behind, an empty shell of a loveless man.

Sing a prayer for a little lost Love, my darling.

𖤐

Another month, come and gone, another full Moon with cool light shining down onto the soldier.

A fall, a blade, a gun, a bottle.

Heaven, Hell, something in between, reincarnation, nothing, everything.

At that point it didn't matter.

He was a soldier, a soldier who won the war but lost the battle.

Who surrendered to the kingdom of his mind.

No, not surrendered.

There was nothing optional about this.

A fall, a blade, a gun, a bottle.

And his mind made his decision.

And his mind fell blank.

And his mind ceased to exist, a rapid firing of electronic signals- the very things that housed all of his emotions and thoughts- before any life died out, flittering energy towards whatever outside could find.

He could feel the floor hit his-

his body hit the floor with a hollow thud.

And somewhere, somehow, Cas knew that the soldier was gone.

And Castiel dropped to his knees.

𖤐

Risen up,

with glowing halos...

a fallen soldier,

an Angel,

a Friend,

a shining symbol of Peace-

sitting on his throne,

nesting in a place filled with new opportunities-

looks down at his Love with uncertainty.

Broken down,

with tattered wings...

a fallen Angel,

a knight,

a soldier,

a crushed symbol of Hope-

kneeled at the altar,

once again returning to the place that had held him back-

looks up to the sky at his Love with betrayal.

𖤐

Sing a prayer for a little lost Love, my darling.

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Day One of the Number of the Beast Week: “Family Don’t End in Blood, Boy”

@1967-impala <3 I thought we’d start off strong with some Bobby appreciation, since he doesn’t get enough love

(pssst… this design will be on my Redbubble, soon!)

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

Each of the items represents a different character that’s a part of the “Hunter Family”, let’s go!!

Baseball Cap: 🧢 Bobby Singer

Journal: 📒 John Winchester

Colt: 🔫 Samuel Colt

Charm Bracelet: ✝️ Mary Winchester

Army Man: 🪖 Sam Winchester

Samulet 📿 Dean Winchester

Beer Bottle: 🍺 Jo Harvelle

Mr. Fizzles: 🧦 Garth Fitzgerald III

Donut: 🍩 Donna Hanscum

Headphones: 🎧 Claire Novak

Harvelle’s Roadhouse Sign: 🍻 Ellen Harvelle

Sunglasses: 🕶️ Jack Kline

“Marlene” Name Tag: 🏷️ Eileen Leahy

Sheriff’s Badge: 🎖️ Jody Mills

“Dr. Badass is In” Sign: 🤘🏼 Ash

Glass of Whisky: 🥃 Rufus Turner

Angel Blade: ☁️ Castiel

Cosplay Sword: 🗡️ Charlie Bradbury

Kansas License Plate: 🛞 The one and only Baby, the Impala

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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Oooh I’m getting SO pumped for this…

Tomorrow is the start of “The Number of the Beast Week” and it’s an event dedicated to my good friend Damien [ @1967-impala ], to celebrate his birthday!!

Take a look at the schedule below!!

Follow me to celebrate or even better, go check out his stuff <3 @1967-impala ❤️‍🔥

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

Key:

| Drawings = ✎ | Fics = ♤ | Photo Edits = ✄ |

| Video Edits = 𝄢 | Gifsets = ☥ | Stickers = ⛦ |

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

Saturday, October 1st:

-> Family Don’t End in Blood, Boy ✎ ⛦

Sunday, October 2nd:

-> Too Many Think Lightly of Sin ♤

-> Anti-John Winchester Club ✄ ⛦

Monday, October 3rd:

-> Checkmate ✄ ⛦

-> Les Yeux 𝄢

Tuesday, October 4th:

-> Beware, it Goeth Before the Fall ♤

-> Amongst Stars ☥

Wednesday, October 5th:

-> Lay Your Weary Head to Rest 𝄢

-> Unconditional Love ☥

Thursday, October 6th:

-> Can You Still Feel Me Loving You? ♤

-> Carry On ✎ ⛦

Friday, October 7th:

-> Too Smexy

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanart #supernatural fanart #twilightknows

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

Are You There, God? It's Me, the Chosen Fallen One [ initial ]

─────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ───────

* * * p l e a s e c l i c k f o r h i g h e r q u a l i t y * * *

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carry-on-my-wayward-son · 3 years ago

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────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

"Heathers" Quotes, as Said by Supernatural Characters

*** Content warning: Heathers contains dark themes such as murder, suicide, mental illness, etc. Please note that most of these quotes contain infamously dark humor!

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

Sammy: What is your damage, Dean??

Azazel: The extreme always seems to make an impression.

Young!Sammy: Seven schools in seven states and the only thing different is my locker combination...

Young!Dean: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

John Winchester: Whether to kill yourself or not is one of the most important decisions a teenager can make.

Sammy: How very.

Bobby: Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?

Castiel: Greetings and salutations.

Dean, to Sam: I say we just grow up, be adults, and die.

Gabriel: I really don’t like my family...

Sam: I don’t really like your family, either.

Crowley: Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling.

Sam: Grow up. You think I’ll drink your blood just because you call me chicken?

Ruby: …

Sam: Gimme your arm, jerk.

Chuck, about Becky: She’s my best friend. God, I hate her.

Literally everyone: You look like hell.

Dean: Yeah? I just got back.

Dean, to Soulless!Sam, probably: You’re a rebel? You think you’re a rebel?? You’re not a rebel, you’re fucking psychotic!

Soulless!Sam: You say “toh-may-toh”, I say “toh-mah-toh”.

Dean: I don’t patronize bunny rabbits...

Lucifer, in Sam’s head: I like it. It’s got that what-a-cruel-world let’s-toss-ourselves-in-the-abyss type ambience.

Crowley: We'll, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Teresa to you?

Castiel: If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?

Jack: Probably,,,,,

Demon!Dean, to Sam: I was teasing. I loved you! 'Course, I was coming up here to kill ya…

Castiel: Crowley, that knife is filthy.

Crowley: What do you think I’m gonna do with it, take out his tonsils?????

Jack: This may seem like a really stupid question…

Dean: There are no stupid questions.

Jack: You inherit 5 million dollars the same day aliens land on Earth and say they’re going to blow it up in 2 days. What do you do?

Dean: ...That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.

Rowena: Why can’t you just be a son? Why do you have to be such a mega-bitch?

Crowley: Because I can be.

────── •°.༻•.°𖤐°.•༺.°• ──────

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