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sam takes a moment to relish in the novelty:  neil doesn't know him as part of a unit, dean's brother  (or worse, john winchester's son). it probably shouldn't feel this good. it makes him feel a little guilty, like he's done something wrong. but it doesn't matter, because of course he's got a brother, he can't deny it anymore than he can deny the blood in his veins.

'' he's weird about strangers. but he.. he means well. maybe i can convince him to come to one of our home games. ''   the quirk of his mouth is a bit awkward, shy.  he leans into it, hoping to make it look like he is just sorry he hasn't mention having a brother before. he hasn't mentioned a lot of things, much harder to explain than dean and suspicious bruises appearing on him.

he rounds on neil fast, both his brother and demons forgotten in favour of the absurdity of the fox's schedule.   '' wait, what? neil that's— do you even have room to breathe between classes? just how many are you taking? ''

there's a waft of relief that sam doesn't push it, and it reminds him of the quiet comfort of matt or dan. even at the worst of it, with neil's stomach twisting itself into parasitic knots, when it seemed he'd collapse against the weight of his own thoughts, they had the decency or the perceptiveness to never ask. never push. he exhales more to himself than anything when his shoulders betray him a little when they relax around sam. he can have this for a little while longer even if it means with clenched fists.

it was easy to take his mind off it when sam spoke. neil's brows went up with the unnatural curiosity the foxes seemed to inspire in him routinely. ❛  you have a brother?  ❜  neil's brows furrowed tightly; he hadn't ever seen anyone around sam that way, and knew he would have noticed if a stranger in the locker rooms had patched up that bruised cheek. he wondered if coach wymack had lugged sam aside to let his brother see him, but even that seemed unlikely.

❛  never seen him around before.  ❜  easing into the seat, neil pushed off his armour caps and half-shrugged. ❛  with kevin's drills going until three, class is the only time i get to sleep. i don't get how you can stand so many classes.  ❜

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@daylighter:   can't you hear it? there's something in this house.

it's a very old song for him:  there's something in the house.  sam has learned that it doesn't necessarily mean evil, something festering and hungry for blood haunting the walls. a memory beats in his heart with a pang of longing, his mother's ghost protecting him from harm, warm and loving and almost solid enough to touch. it's rarer in his line of work, that's true, but not unheard of. the concept of impossible is becoming more and more distant with each year that passes.

sam shakes his head, exhaling softly through his nose.  the house is old — enough to justify some leaking tubes, maybe — and he needs to actually check it before he makes any sort of assumptions. but before he can fish out his equipment and farther head in, sam turns towards the man. he doesn't think hunter when he looks at him; doesn't carry himself in the same way he can identify a mile away. yet the intensity in his stare has something familiar in it. hard and sharp, like an eagle.

'' what do you think it might be? ''   and then, because sam doesn't mind  (and because he's a little curious about kenneth too):   '' maybe we can check it out together. ''

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the stiff tension in his shoulders eases the more he talks to her.  he tries, if anything, to mirror at least a little of the way she holds herself, so at home here among the club's varied clientele and the steady beat of the music. the leather too seems to be a common theme, one sam definitely wasn't let it on  (he doubts he even owns anything leather that isn't a belt). it's easier the more they talk, her presence familiar enough to be comforting, so he takes a few sips of his beer, taps his foot in time with a rock tune he can never quite get out of his head for good. all in all, he might even be in danger of having a good time.

'' yeah. dawn, right? ''   he seems to remember her mentioning her sister once or twice, a while back, but sam has a good head for names, courtesy of his too soon abandoned ba.  he doesn't pry further, lets her settle the line. family can be a complicated subject, even if it probably shouldn't be.

'' i was doing pre-law at stanford. history major. but uh — ''   sam clears his throat, something acidic sinking towards his esophagus as he swallows.   '' i had to cut it short when dad disappeared. ''   he puts it simply, avoids talking about everything else that happened back there, about jessica. it would sour the mood too much for a night out.

'' meet me after my morning shift at the library? i can text you the adress. ''

               there is a certain quality the other hunter shares with that of her watcher.   although there was a glaring difference of giles being a rebel in his heyday. the same couldn't be said for a certain straight-laced sam winchester.   she almost feels bad asking him to meet up with her here of all places but she also firmly believed that people in their business should learn to live a little   (   while they still could   )   slayers burned out bright and fast so wasn't big on wasting any time.   maybe that's precisely why she somehow believed  she could stay enrolled in school all while staying on top of nightly patrols.   SETTING OUT TO BE A JACK OF ALL TRADES AND ENDING UP A MASTER OF NONE.   

        this on the other hand,   this she is a natural at.   the flow of conversation is as smooth as any stake leaving her grip to meet its mark.   ❛   you don't have to explain that to me.   i've got a kid sister,   remember ?   ❜   the flow of conversation persists with a natural ease and their corner of the bar quiets as a group empties out onto the dance floor in the other room.   

        ❛   wait,   hold up,   you can't just drop that bomb on me and not elaborate.   you were in college before all this ?   now i gotta know your major.   ❜   this was icebreakers 101,   first day of class type interview questions but it kept things moving and she was genuinely interested in what a winchester off the job got up to.   ❛   like somewhere to study ?   i'll admit i don't do as much of that as i should but i know place where they make a great cafe.   it's pretty quiet on weekdays.   ❜   sipping her drink she let's the unspoken question linger in the air as ice clinks against the glass with the absent stir of a straw.   ❛   wanna go tomorrow  ❜   glancing up at him over the rim of her raised cup .  

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Diego Calva in Te Prometo Anarquía/I Promise You Anarchy (2015) dir. Julio Hernández Cordón

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he doesn't think neil really means it.  not really. maybe sam is just projecting his miseries onto him, but he knows what it means to want something you can't have so bad you fear it might kill the breath in your lungs. he knows all about crushing that want to powder and choking on it. sam is kind enough not to comment on it, he just gives him a long look and in the end it's neil himself who changes the subject, shifting attention off of himself.

sam clears away his stuff, keeping his hands busy so he isn't tempted to bring one to his face, near his left eye where his skin is still tender and bruised.  he hadn't landed on an explanation yet, but thankfully exy is a violent enough sport that no one would bat an eye to him getting a little banged up in scrimmages. it's easier to believe than the truth for sure.   '' i'm alright. my brother, he.. made sure i wasn't concussed or anything. ''

sam isn't exactly lying.  but this is a thin tightrope and neil too sharp not to see where the threads are coming apart. abby winfield, for instance, would surely have no recollection of patching sam up. 

'' how are you holding up? i see you dozing off in class sometimes. ''

neil's reaction was a sharp contrast to sam's light laughter in the stadium, where his face was scrunched up and each word had been said the same way he held a racquet to his chest : like a guarded desire or secret, something he anticipated nameless faces would try to wrench out of his grip. it was an easy enough thing to say now after he had spent the better half of last season saying it to wymack. he had bargained with andrew to let him say. he had thrown his game to kevin with vitriol. he thought it every time the foxes played, that he could have this until october.

even classes, and a spanish book he had lost interest in after drills last night, was something of a routine comfort he didn't want to let go of. it was the most he could imagine for himself, only because it was the most he had ever stumbled into without injury. that sort of insidious luck made it harder to look at sam. he turned his too-serious face back to the plexiglass.

❛  no,  ❜  he said quickly, avoiding the contradiction in his own words before begrudgingly taking his seat. ❛  it's not like i'm not making it to court.  ❜  neil started pulling his gear loose, marking the end of training and return to real life, before finding his voice again. ❛  you okay? seth rammed you pretty hard.  ❜

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RATE YOUR MUSE'S TRAITS 0-10 !

repost and rate your muse’s traits, then tag your followers

compassion : 10/10 (puppy eyed tortured soul will cry if he has to kill you against his wishes!)

bitterness : 6/10

happiness : 3/10 (listen... his life is a constant nightmare)

politeness : 8/10

chivalry : 8/10

pride : 5/10

honesty : 7/10 (tries to be honest when he can)

bravery : 10/10

recklessness : 4/10 (not prone to taking stupid risks under normal circumstances. but this might change if it's about his brother)

ambition : 4/10 (all he ever wanted was a normal life 😭)

loyalty : 9/10 (he'll die for the people he loves, sure, but he will also stand up for himself and what he wants)

love : 8/10

sense of family : 100000/10 (winchester levels of codependent craziness, off the scale)

attractiveness : 9/10 (if anything because he looks exhausted/haunted by the horrors way too often)

agility : 8/10

sex drive: 4/10

tagged by: @fospherus

tagging: @hen2-437, @saovaene (iorveth or maglor), @punkcopy (buffy)

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Fatimah Asghar, How’d Your Parents Die Again?

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@hen2-437:   what's the deal with this place?

it's easy for him to turn around, one foot over the remains of shattered forniture. the presence of someone beside him so ingrained in his brain that, for a moment, it doesn't even register as puzzling. she is not dean, obviously, her steps much too light to belong to his brother, but sam doesn't mind the company. he peers inside the deserted house, at least glad to be out of oklahoma's unrelenting sun, making sure that nothing is about to sprint on them both before admitting with a shrug: '' don't know yet. it could be nothing. ''

it is, more or less, the usual: history of violent deaths, strange rumors, an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. all the signs point to haunted, but sam knows that sometimes superstition goes a long way. whatever it is, it can wait. sam sighs, pushing hair away from his forehead by force of habit, looking at the fox with a small frown — it's not hatred, or disgust, only an edge of concern. and the pressing awareness that he is whoefully unprepared for this, outnumbered too. '' listen, um. is there anywhere safe you can get to? friends.. family? '' it's a long shot, he knows, especially because he is familiar with the kind of people that are after her, hunters who won't hesitate or show mercy. sam is the anomaly, refusing to think in such black or white terms, and suffering all the more for it.

a little sheepish, he quickly amends before she can get the wrong idea. '' i don't mind having you around, don't get me wrong. just checking. ''

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CURRUPTUM. private and selective writing blog for sam winchester from supernatural (canon divergent). follows back from my main blog, @walkpathe. character information under the cut.

IC WRITING. HCS. STUDY. VISUALS. PINTEREST. MEMES.

DISCLAIMER. i have a strong preference for early seasons (1-5) and i'm fairly dean critical. i'm also in the process of rewatching s.pn (currently in the middle of s4), so i will be figuring out what elements to incorporate in my portrayal and which to discard as i go. but i generally won't be following canon too closely.

SUMMARY

i. (early-mid 20s by default verse) son of marìa and john winchester, half mexican on his mother's side. samuel's chances of a normal life went to hell the night his mother died, killed by a demon when the boy was six months old. he was forced to ingest demon blood on that very same night, but sam wasn't aware of this (or the powers it granted him) for a long time. he grew up always on the move, with a father obssessed by revenge and a brother too keen to follow orders. trained to hunt all kinds of monsters when all he wanted was a normal life.

ii. tall (6'2 / 1.88 m), with a strong, but not massive, athletic build. he inherited his mother's complexion, while his dark hair and eyes resemble john more closely. FC: diego calva

iii. chicano, estranged from his mother's home country and culture. spanish wasn't allowed in the house after maría's death and sam only took some classes during his pre-law course at standford.

VERSE ROUTES,

canon divergent. default verse for crossover interactions. sam and dean part ways after john's death. sam longs for independence, and travels across north america to find a healthier balance between hunting and living in society. while also sending demons back to hell with his powers and getting better at it every time.

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Diego Calva as Manny Torres Babylon (2022) dir. Damien Chazelle