#[deep sigh] i should just call it a day and rewatch supernatural right?

[rocksalt-and-pie]

anyway im looking for a book recommendation.

Genre: horror / dark fantasy

Specifically: there should be a Creature OR witchcraft OR at least a very convincing threat that looks like one of those things (but isn't) and that makes the characters question their sanity. Bonus points if it isn't your average vampire or werewolf but something more unique like a changeling or smth like that, something that you wouldn't necessarily expect or something entirely new

Vibe: scary as fuck, like actually horrifying. Not necessarily shocking or with a lot of gore and murder because that doesn't really bother me but like Dark Themes instead. (Example: Pet Sematary terrified me because of the portrayal of grief and how far you're willing to go to deal with it. I also loved the dragged out portrayal of guilt and dealing with the emotional consequences of your own actions in The Secret History)

Nitpicky stuff:

- I would prefer it to be set in the US (southern gothic vibes, urban decay, dark americana)

- should be set after at the earliest 1970ish (no historical fiction)

- would be great if it included themes of grief / generational and-or inherited trauma / incest / guilt / self-fulfilling prophecies / substance abuse / religion or religious trauma

- female protagonist is preferred but anything else wouldn’t be a deal breaker

- you know I like lgbt representation so that would be great but I take what I can get

- I do enjoy a well written plot twist it has to be said

- doesn't have to have a happy ending (just a good one) but I don't really like open endings

[d4rk3stn1ght]

Haunted Playmate

Happy Holidays @houser-of-stories ! I was also your gift giver for @sanderssidesgiftxchange and I hope you enjoy your gift

Ships: Platonic Prinxiety, mentioned Analogical and Royality

Warnings: Past character death, cursing, mentioned murder, not meant to be unsympathetic Remus but it kind of comes off that way, if there’s anything else needed to be tagged please tell me

There was a creak on the floor that hadn’t been there before. Was someone invading his home? Well, what was his home. He looked over the banister of the stairs to see a man unpacking his things in the house.“

“Well hello there.” Roman smiled and gently greeted the stranger. Logically, he knew that the man couldn’t hear him, but it was still polite. He had manners! He was a gentleman, thank you very much! Roman watched him from a bit afar. This man tended to talk to himself. Virgil? Was that his name? He mumbled it under his breath fairly often. Virgil flopped onto the couch with his phone, probably to order pizza. He would too if he were the one moving into be moving instead. He missed being able to eat and do things. Well, he could push things over but he couldn’t leave the house. Roman sighed softly before looking through the house to see what his new housemate had done with it. So far, he hadn’t gone up to the attic. If Roman had his way, he wouldn’t be able to. 

Roman hums a gentle song as he peered into Virgil’s room. Oh! He had a Nightmare Before Christmas poster! Too bad Roman couldn’t borrow it or give him his own posters. His were taken as evidence or removed. It sucked but he understood why. He couldn’t exactly stop them anyway, not that he didn’t try. He shook his head at the memories the thought brought. He didn’t need to accidentally cause an inside storm again. It accidentally hurt a small child and he felt so bad for it even though he couldn’t help it. The room itself wasn’t that bad. Yeah, it was a bit dark and dreary, but there was some normalcy from his time. A string of lights to illuminate the room during the night (purple rather than a soft yellow), a corkboard for pictures or necklaces... The desk was cluttered with art supplies. Was he an artist? Did he have any sketches out? A glance over the desk confirmed that that’d be a no. Of course. Why would an emo have anything out in view that could hint at their past? They wouldn’t unless they trusted you. He knew that a bit too well. But ohoho, what’s this? There was a picture carefully placed on the desk with a number with hearts around it. Now that was interesting. Stormy knight had a crush? On this... Logan Omair? The teach? Too bad he couldn’t call that guy at the moment or he so would. He noticed a cup of pens a little too close to the edge and grinned. New game time. How long can he knock things over before the new guy noticed or left? He knocked over the pen cup and laughed at the sound of his new guest jumping up to look.

Roman left the room quickly and headed to the kitchen instead before Virgil could get there. He chuckles at him cursing at the mess but quickly pouts at there being nothing close enough for him to easily knock anything over. Well, he could always knock over the chairs. He froze though at the doorbell. That was really quick or he was losing time again. That tended to happen more recently but it doesn’t bother him as much anymore.

Virgil ran down the stairs and looked out the window before opening the door with an apology. Was he paranoid? Was he running from something? Was he a criminal?! He’d rather side with the law! Maybe he was just anxious. Who knew? Definitely not Roman. He probably never would. The dark and paranormal walked into the kitchen without looking in Roman’s direction. He grabbed two cups, one he set on the counter while he held the other to get ice and soda. Why did he need another cup? Virgil left the cup on the counter while taking his soda one to the couch. When he got comfortable he immediately swiped the cup off the counter before bolting again. 

Virgil smirked at catching a glimpse of Roman’s retreating form, “Gotcha.” He was so glad he didn’t take out his glass cups. A after setting the pizza and the cup of soda down a safe distance from the edge, he got up to pick up the discarded cup and set it down on the edge of the end side table. “Try that one you overgrown cat.” He snarks but unpauses the show to finish it as he ate. 

The ghost thought he was slick, didn’t he? Virgil knew about the haunted house rumors and was ready for anything. Well, as much as Supernatural taught and the limited research he had. While he hadn’t been there long, Virgil had already attempted salting the doorways and windows. He’d noticed a few things, too. The ghost could both float above and walk straight through it, so salt was a bust.The ghost seemed to only do anything when he wasn’t looking or not even in the room. He doesn’t know anything about him aside from him acting like a cat. It was kind of amusing but the pens were annoying. Empty Solo cup? No problem. A full cup and he’s just being a pain in the ass. Virgil took a deep breath before getting up and put the pizza box in the trash. He froze at the clatter of the cup but sighed in relief when there wasn’t a splash accompanied. Virgil mocked him slightly when he laughed. He was just thankful the ghost wasn’t hostile and was just being a bit playful. He settled into the couch again and sipped at his drink while spacing out in thought.

Meanwhile, Roman was snickering in what used to be his room. This was great! He was playing along. It was kinda disappointing that he wouldn’t put anything full against the edge anymore, but he understood anyway. Roman would feel the same way if roles were reversed, at least. He gently ran his hand across the wall. He knew feeling the paint was impossible, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to try. Roman missed his tangibility, but… nothing could undo what he did. Roman closed his eyes to get his bubbling anger under control. It’s not that Roman  hated him, but he was still angry and understandably so. As justified as his anger was, the man downstairs didn’t deserve the backlash it would produce. When he had calmed some, he headed to the stairway to see the poor kid was passed out on the couch with his show running. It was kinda interesting but he couldn’t risk it yet. Maybe the next day but not right now. He nodded in the sleeping form’s direction before heading up to the attic. When he got up there he headed to check on his object. He knew where his body was, but that wasn’t what he was tied to. Instead, he was tied to his class ring from his senior class. He tended to wear it everywhere and it held most of his best memories. That’s why he never let anyone up in the attic. If they were to find it and destroy it, well... that would be it. He would be toast and no one would be able to know the truth. No one had tried to talk to him before but hopefully, Virgil would be the first if he so chose or if he could even hear and/or see him.

A few days later the game was still on. Random cups would fall and Virgil had yet to see anything more than a glimpse of the ghost and the sounds of laughter, followed quickly by a cup hitting the floor. That said, the ghost was getting a bit bolder. He would linger especially when Supernatural was on. Virgil could feel the drop in temperature but if he tried to look, the ghost wouldn’t be there. Virgil had done more research on the property and found a few different murders but he didn’t know which one this ghost was from. Tired of the cat and mouse, Virgil hatched a plan. He needed a job for money and, since this was his second rewatch of Supernatural, he could miss a few episodes of the show and be fine. , Virgil decided that was going to announce he was leaving and leave the show on for the ghost to watch. Then, hopefully, he’d come back from applications and finally see the ghost.

Virgil set his trap the next day, leaving and returning a few hours later. When he got back, he made sure to be quiet as he crept in. His eyes widened. Sitting cross-legged in front of the screen was none other than his ghostly roommate. Dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, he looked a bit younger than Virgil. Unable to see much else from behind, Virgil slowly crept towards the ghost’s side to see any other features so he could compare them to the other murders on the property. Unfortunately, the episode started the credits and the ghost turned, making a shout of surprise and scrambling back, 

The ghost almost looked panicked, “Um, hey! You’re back!” 

Now that he was facing Virgil, he could see everything. The gold crown on the breast pocket, the line on his throat from where it had been slit, dull green eyes and tanned skin muted by death. 

“You’re Roman!” Virgil exclaimed

“You can see me?!”

“Yes?!”

“That’s awesome!”

“No! Not awesome! I knew you!”

“You did?”

“Yes! Roman Kingston and Remus Kingston!”

“Highschool?”

“Yes. You kept making doll eyes at Patton Amato!”

“I did not! But, uh, uh how is he?”

“Frankly, weI haven’t talked much.”

“Who have you talked to?”

“Logan Omair, Remus, Janus,Remy... But I’ve only  Remy and Logan recently.”

“Cool…” Roman slowly unfreezes and shifts to a more casual posture. “So, I saw your little love letter.”

“What?!” Virgil, who had been doing the same, tenses right back up.

“The number? You-!”

“No! Why you?!”

“No idea. You should ask Remus,” he spat bitterly.

“Right… The article said…” Virgil trailed off, rubbing his neck.

“Yeah.” Discomfort is plain as day on Roman’s face. “Let’s not… Anyway, why’d you move here out of anywhere.”

Virgil is glad to change the subject, “You know, settling down and-”

“It’s because Logan lives here, isn’t it.”

“Shut!” Virgil snaps as his face tints pink.

“So it is Logan! Hah!”

“I will kill you again, you ass!” Virgil lunges towards Roman.

“You caaaaan’t,” Roman sing- songs and laughs as he dodges Virgil’s fist

“Get back here!” Virgil chases Roman through the room, thoroughly annoyed by the fact Roman has more mobility. 

“Nope! When’s your date?”

“Shut! Up!” He catches up and swings again, hitting nothing.

Roman just laughs at him, “Come oooon!”

“We aren’t dating!” Virgil flops down onto the couch in defeat.

“Not yet!” Roman teases.

“Not anytime soon!”

“Who says?”

“Both of us.”

“Why? You both liked each other in high school.” Roman also calms down a bit, sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Yeah, it’s been a little while.”

“Oh right.”

“Yeah. We said someday but for now, we’re just talking as friends and meeting up with anyone still in town.”

“Like?”

“Patton, Emile, Remus, each other.Remy will pop in someday soon.”

“What about Janus?”

Virgil shrugs, “I haven’t heard from him.”

“Ah.” Roman pauses a moment before speaking again. “When will you talk to Remus?”

“I’m going Wednesday.”

“Can you… can you ask him why for me?”

Virgil looks to Roman out of the corner of his eyes, “I can’t promise he’ll answer.”

Roman nods “...Right.”

“Yeah...” Virgil rubs the back of his neck, sensing Roman’s discomfort.

“Sooo... how’d job hunt go?”

“I’ve applied. They’ll call me to set up interviews.”

“Nice. By the way, what’s up with the emo aesthetic?”

“I told everyone it wasn’t a phase,” he jokes slightly.

“We didn’t think you were serious.”

“Dead serious,” Virgil grinned.

“You did not.”

He just burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe you did this to me! Me of all people! How dare you, sir!”

Virgil put an arm around his stomach as he kept laughing.

“You can’t be serious! No! Don’t answer that you dark fiend! I trusted you!”

He only seemed to laugh harder at his dramatics. Roman only pouted as Virgil slowly calmed down.

“You’re an ass.”

“You still love me platonically anyway,” Virgil teases.

“Sadly.”

He chuckles breathlessly,shakinghis head.

“Hey, did they ever find out why that band split up?”

“The one you listened to religiously in high school? No.”

“Damn. I enjoyed their music.”

Virgil shrugs, “I can play some for you.”

“You look like you know something.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“You tease! I can’t tell anyone!”

“I know,” *Virgil grins, “But this is more fun.”

“Asshole.”

“Nice to talk to you, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Ahhh, there he is.”

“What?”

“The prick of a prince.”

“Hey!”

“Hello.”

“Why must you be so rude to me?” Roman swoons back, the back of his hand against his forehead.

“No one else can.”

“Rude!”

“I’m not that rude.” Virgil rolls his eyes.

“Yes, you are!”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“Not arguing.”

“You’re boring.”

“To you.”

“Exactly.”

“Ah, there’s the brat.”

“So good to be back,” Roman said sarcastically but it soon just turned into them giggling.

“By the way...”

“Hm?”

“Don’t tip over anything full ever again.”

“No promises.”

Virgil looks pointedly at Roman, “Roman.”

With a mischevious grin, Roman turned and ran, phasing away through a wall.

“Roman get back here!” Virgil scrambled to chase after him.

This seemed like a great beginning to a new chapter of both of their lives. And what a wondrous start it was.

[natashasbanner]

This One’s A Keeper

What if Macy never corrected Summer when she assumed Macy and Harry were together? And what feelings does it bring to the surface for Macy?

A/N: I came up with this during my rewatch of season 1. This was the episode I started shipping Hacy and I'm excited to share it for Hacy Week Day 5. 

Also on AO3

X

“Macy, this one’s a keeper.” 

Macy’s first instinct was to set Summer straight, she and Harry were just friends, but the whole point of bringing him along was to keep Galvin and Summer from thinking she was jealous. So instead, she plastered on a smile and looped her arm around his. 

“He is, isn’t he,” she said, smiling as she looked at Harry. 

Confusion colored his features for a moment, but she raised her eyebrows pointedly and his eyes widened in realization. 

“Yes, well I try,” he said with a casual laugh, his hand falling to take hers, his warm fingers curling around her own. 

“I’ll take this to the refreshments table, you two have fun,” Summer said and walked away. 

Macy made eye contact with Galvin for a moment before he turned to follow Summer. 

Harry dropped her hand the moment they were gone and Macy was surprised to find that she missed the contact. Shaking the thought away, she blew out a breath and let out a shaky laugh. 

“I’m going to blow this for us,” she said, her eyes scanning the room. 

“What are you talking about, you’re doing fine.” 

“I almost told Summer that we’re just friends, but you’re supposed to be my date.” She was rambling, she knew she was, but she couldn’t stop it. 

“Macy,” he said, his tone soothing. “You need to calm down.” 

“I’m trying, but Galvin didn’t even invite me and we have ulterior motives for being here. Excuse me if I’m not entirely comfortable with the supernatural espionage yet.” 

He placed a hand on her shoulder and she met his eyes. He took a deep breath and she followed suit, letting the anxious feelings flow out of her body. 

“You care about Galvin and we’re here because you’re concerned for his safety,” he said slowly, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Just try to relax and enjoy the party. The moment will present itself for us to get a look at the mark. Okay?”  

Macy nodded and took another deep breath. “Okay.” 

“Good,” he said and took her hand again. “Let’s get a drink, shall we?” 

Macy let him pull her toward the makeshift bar, tightening her hold on his hand as they went. 

X

A few drinks and some really good snacks later, Macy found herself actually enjoying the party. Galvin was an elusive host, but Macy was keeping an eye on him. Harry stayed by her side the whole time as she talked with a few coworkers, his hand on the small of her back or holding her hand. 

She knew it was for appearances, but Macy was enjoying his closeness. Parties were never her thing and this party was complicated. His presence was comforting and greatly appreciated. 

Macy was acutely aware of Summer joining their group, but she tried to ignore her. She was incredibly nice and Macy didn’t want to dislike her, but she was afraid she’d see right through her act if she acknowledged her presence. 

But it seemed that Summer had warmed to her considerably now that she thought Macy was dating someone else. Her coworkers left to take their turn at karaoke, leaving her alone with Harry and Summer. 

They stood in silence, the air around them growing more awkward by the second, before Harry cleared his throat. 

“It’s a lovely party, Summer,” he complimented, nodding around the room. 

Summer grinned. “Thank you, Harry. I wanted Galvin’s birthday to be special.” 

Macy smiled and awkwardly nodded and she felt Harry’s hand slid to the small of her back, reminding her to relax. 

She saw Summer’s eyes follow the movement of Harry’s hand and a knowing look spread over her face. Macy braced herself as Summer opened her mouth, her eyes set on Harry again. 

“I have to admit, seeing you two together came as a surprise,” she started, her eyes shifting to Macy. “Don’t take this the wrong was, but it’s nice to see you’ve moved on.” There was an edge to her statement, but her smile never faltered. 

Heat burned through Macy’s veins and she felt her cheeks warm. Her hand clenched around the cup she was holding. 

“I guess it took me a while to see what was right under my nose,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. 

Harry’s fingers pressed more firmly against her back and she turned to meet his eyes. They almost sparkled in the colorful lights by the makeshift dancefloor. He offered her a small smile and she couldn’t help but return it, the edge of her anger ebbing slightly. 

“You two are too cute together,” Summer said and she touched Macy’s arm. She leaned in to whisper to Macy. “I meant what I said, he’s a keeper.” 

“Thanks,” Macy said and Summer squeezed her arm before walking away to talk to the small group that had gathered by the bar. 

Harry leaned in and asked in a low voice. “What was that about?”

Macy shook her head and downed the rest of the drink in her cup. “Nothing.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” she ground out. “We should just go, this was a bad idea.” 

“No it wasn’t and I haven’t seen the mark yet.” He moved his hand from her back and took her hand in his. “Would you like to dance?” 

“What?” 

He started swaying to the beat of the song playing loudly through the speakers. He tried coaxing her to join him, swinging her arm between them. She tried to fight the smile tugging at her lips but he did a little shimmy with his shoulders and she completely lost it. 

A loud laugh bubbled out of her and from the corner of her eye she saw a few heads turn in their direction, but she ignored them. Harry started pulling her toward the crowd dancing closer to the speaker and Macy followed his lead. If it were anyone else she would have turned on her heel and got the hell out of there, but there was something about he hadn’t lead her wrong all night. 

He stopped at the edge of the small crowd and pulled her close, lifting their joined hands over her head and spinning her around. Once she was facing him again, Macy put her free hand on his shoulder while his found the small of her back. 

“Is this okay?” He asked, just loud enough to hear over the pulsing beat of the music. His fingers flexed against her back and he cleared his throat, not meeting her eyes. 

Macy nodded. “Yeah, though I don’t think this is an appropriate song for slow dancing.” 

“Call me old fashioned,” he said with a wink.

She laughed and tightened her grip on his hand. They swayed in time to the music until the song changed to something much slower. Macy recognized it right away and smiled unconsciously stepping closer to Harry. 

She rested her chin on his shoulder before she realized what she was doing. “Sorry,” she said, leaping back. “I don’t know what came over me.” 

“It’s alright,” he assured her, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’m just glad you’ve finally taken my advice to try and relax.” 

“You’re making it easier.” 

“It’s my job.” 

“Accompanying one of your charges on a date that isn’t actually a date is in the Whitelighter handbook?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not exactly, but if a demonic entity is trying to get to you or your sisters through Galvin, it is in my handbook to intervene by any means necessary.” His tone was light, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made Macy’s heart rate speed up. She averted her eyes, focusing on a spot on the wall over his shoulder. 

“Are all Whitelighters like you, or did we just get incredibly lucky to get you?” she asked softly. 

His fingers pressed into her back and she heard his short intake of breath. He was quiet for the rest of the song and Macy started to worry she’d said something wrong, made this awkward like every other relationship in her life. 

But then he leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “I consider myself the lucky one.” 

Heat flushed Macy’s cheeks and she was suddenly acutely aware of everywhere they were touching. The rest of the room faded away in that moment and it was just the two of them. 

His hold on her loosened and he tapped her back. “Macy?” 

“Huh?” 

She leaned back to look him in the eye, but his were focused on something behind her. Macy turned around and followed his line of sight to see Galvin and Summer in the corner. She felt a pang in her chest when she realized they had their hands all over each other, but it didn’t last long. Galvin’s shirt had ridden up and the mark glowed when her eyes landed on it. 

“It’s right there, can you see it?” she said, turning to look at Harry again. 

His eyes were squinted, but he shook his head. “I don’t see anything.” 

“How am I the only one who can see it?” Macy grumbled. 

“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out.” It was a promise, sealed with a firm squeeze of her hand. 

“Thanks, Harry.” 

“Any time,” he said, giving her a pat on the back. 

Macy sighed and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I know I’ve been saying this all night, but I’d really like to go home now.” 

Harry nodded, moving his hand from her back to offer his arm. “Of course.” 

X

“I should really be going,” Harry said from his spot in the armchair. “I have classes in the morning.” 

Macy frowned and sat up on the couch. Maggie and Mel had gone to bed awhile ago, but Harry stuck around for a cup of tea. 

“What’s one more night in the attic?” She shrugged her shoulders in attempt at casual, but her heart was thumping in her chest. 

“That couch is horrendous and I’ve already overstayed my welcome,” he said, pushing himself up from the chair. 

“We can get you a pull out couch,” she offered, wringing her hands in her lap. “Way more comfortable.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but faltered and clasped his hands in front of him. He tilted as he looked at her, his eyes unreadable. Macy wanted to look away, but she just couldn’t. 

“What’s going on?” he asked softly. 

“Nothing,” she denied because she didn’t know why she was so reluctant for him to leave. 

Logically there was no reason for him to stay. He was there in the absence of the Book, but they had the book back and they were more than capable of taking care of themselves. But for some reason, Macy didn’t want him to go. After the party and their talk in the attic, her mind was swimming with confusing thoughts. Thoughts that almost always circled back to her desire to grab Harry by the collar and kiss him senseless. 

But that was completely out of the question, but she still wanted him to stay. Even if it was only one more night. 

He raised an eyebrow and took a step closer to the couch. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” she said with a jerky nod. “I, um, I just know Maggie’s going to miss your veganish breakfasts.” 

“Right, well I can orb back over in the morning if it’ll make Maggie happy. But I’d like to get a good night’s rest.” 

“You’re right, I’ll see you in the morning.” She ducked her head and picked at her fingernails.  

She heard him shuffle closer, but didn’t look up until she felt his hand on her shoulder. His eyes were soft when she met them and he squeezed her shoulder with a smile. 

“Goodnight, Macy,” he said softly. His eyes searched her for a moment for he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. 

Macy’s breath caught in her throat and a tingling warmth spread from her head to the rest of her body. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” she whispered, not trusting herself to speak any louder. 

He turned and gathered his bag and coat from where he left them by the door. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled on last time before he snapped his fingers and disappeared. Macy stared at the spot where he stood for a long time while her breathing returned to normal. 

She was being ridiculous, she knew it. Whatever she thought she was feeling for Harry was likely just a result of their recent closeness and her unresolved feelings for Galvin. She’d get over it eventually.

She had to.

[ezilyamuzed]

There’s no place like home - part 6.

Summary: The reader has had a unique gift all her life. While considering it a curse, she discovers the identity of her real father after her mothers passing. Journeying towards her new life, she finds herself thrown within the Winchester’s world. Is it her destiny?

Setting: End of season 13. This takes place during episode 13.18.

Warnings: Language.  Flashback are italicized. POV may switch after certain sections. 

A/N: This is my awkward part of the story and I apologize. I hadn’t rewatched the episodes yet when I had started posting to mesh these in correctly to the episodes. Dean and Sam would not have left Gabriel. I promise that will not happen again. Additional note that the description of the handling of psychological files is not HIPAA compliant, it just had to work this way for the story. Your therapists are not reading your files at home!

Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Gabriel was still a beaten and broken man hiding in the darkness of the bunker when they had returned, unwilling to speak or have anyone come close to him. Cas had just arrived, unknowing how bad the situation truly was. Ketch followed Dean on a mission to apocalypse world to find mom and Jack leaving his brother to watch and wait for their return. When Cas had heard what Dean was doing, he was furious at how Sam could let him do that, going into that world practically alone was a suicide mission. When Castiel saw Gabriel huddled in the dark corner of a room in the bunker, the gravity of the situation at hand hit him. 

“Where were you Sam, while you left Gabriel alone in this condition?” Castiel demanded.

“There was something we had to take care of Cas,” Sam replied while thinking about those last couple of days. 

“Who is Y/N,” Castiel growled while reading Sam’s mind, his eyebrows pushing together in concentration while holding back his fury towards Sam.

“You know I hate when you do that,” Sam replied with an annoyed tone while sitting down in the War room. “She is Bobby’s daughter, Cas. We just found out and well…we had to go and see for ourselves.”

“I understand your reasoning Sam, but you’ve wasted precious time that we did not have,” Castiel replied in a serious tone, not shifting his facial features as he spoke. 

“I know Cas. No more distractions,” Sam said solemnly. That was easier said than done. Y/N. The mysterious girl who showed up at one of the worst possible times. Y/N, the girl he needed to push out of his mind and forget. The girl he needed his brother to forget, at least for now. That was going to be the hard part. He saw the way his brother looked at her, he had never quite seen it before. Sure his brother did have the way with the ladies, but this was different. With Lisa his guard was up to protect her and Ben, but with Y/N? It was like they had known each other all their lives the way that they bantered back and forth, it was just so…natural. Saving the world again almost seemed like the easier task now.

_______________________________________________________________ 

The drive to Lawrence wasn’t as horrible as you had thought it would be. Yes, you were going on only about two hours of sleep from the night before but there was something freeing about being in your baby on the open road again with the wind blowing your hair and the tunes turned up. Everything felt like it was going to be alright for once in a long time. 

Almost 7 hours later you found yourself parking in the driveway at your new home. A simple one-story cottage house tucked away in the woods on the outskirts of town, away from the business of people. Just the way you liked it. You allowed yourself to appreciate the change you were about to walk into, your new home. Your new start. 

Walking in the front door you sighed heavily at all the boxes and furniture that the movers had left in stacks. You definitely had work to do, but you happily accepted the challenge for the next 5 hours. Setting up all the furniture just right and stacking the unneeded boxes for another night. Except for one. The patient files stored on little flash drives you had collected over the last decade since you were in your doctoral internship. Inside the box, they stayed tucked away within the small safe. You pulled it open to double check that they were all still safely secured, counting them one by one noting the dates of each. One had fallen underneath the couch as you started to place them back carefully in the safe. After pushing yourself to the floor to retrieve it, you glanced at the dates written on it. Something about it made you grab your laptop to open it up, imputing your password to unlock the contents. As you glanced through the initials one stood out in your memory more than the others, C.S., but why? You opened it and sat on the floor with your back against the couch, eyes widening as your past flooded back into your mind.

“Oh, my…Chuck.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Charles Shurley, white male early to mid-30’s complaining of severe headaches, anxiety with paranoia symptoms, insomnia, and vivid nightmares,” you read out loud before grabbing your new patient from the waiting room. You rocked back and forth in your office chair while looking over the intakes notes. “Admits to using alcohol to help himself sleep,” you gave a little scoff as you read it. “Don’t we all buddy.” 

You walked out to the waiting room, expecting a somewhat nervous man patiently waiting but what you found was a clearly shaken soul that looked like he was seconds away from jumping out of his own skin. Standing directly to the left of him, a bright glowing light figured with no face. An angel. This guy had a literal, honest to fucking God angel watching over him. You diverted your eyes away from it, not knowing exactly what it was doing here, with this man crumbling in his chair. Angels were unpredictable usually with their own “holy” twisted agendas.

“Charles,” you called out from the doorway.

He jumped up from his seat and followed your lead towards your little corner office that was sparsely decorated for use of other future interns when you left in a month. Honestly, if they hadn’t of been so short staffed at the moment you would be finishing up the termination and referrals for the people you had already been working with, not taking on a new client. The Angel followed him closely behind, you keeping it in the corner of your eye. This was going to be interesting. 

The two of you sat down in the somewhat comfy leather chairs, perfectly at the 90-degree angles you were taught they should be in. You crossed your legs as you watched him stare nervously at the ground. The Angel stood guard next to him, unfaltering.

“Charles, I’m Y/N,” you stated while trying to ignore the celestial entity in your office. “Were you informed prior to your consent signing that I am a doctoral student and not a licensed psychologist?”

He nodded his head yes in reply, still focusing on the ground. His hands trembling on his lap. His left foot bouncing off the ground.

“Charles? I will have some general questions for you for assessment purposes, but first, why don’t you tell me why you are here?”

“It’s Chuck actually,” he said while raising his eyes to yours. 

“Okay, Chuck,” you politely smiled. “What can I help you with?” 

“I’m going to sound crazy. You will probably end up throwing me in a padded room and tossing the key.”

Your gaze moved over towards the celestial being. Being followed by angels, now that was crazy. You shook away your thoughts and gave your best professional tone. “Are you harming yourself or others or have any plan to do so?”

“No,” he replied quickly.

You gave him a little half smile as you sat back a bit farther into the chair, not wanting to piss off his angelic handler by getting too close. “I don’t think there is any reason for that then.”

“You are going to think it’s crazy.”

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy stories Chuck,” you said with a friendly smile, trying to calm down his nerves while thinking of how this situation was definitely in the top 10 of crazy.

He took in a deep breath and straightened himself out in his chair before replying. “I have these dreams. Almost like nightmares. When I wake up I can still remember every detail.”

“Remembering details in one's dreams is pretty common,” you stated in reply. “Sometimes we remember our dreams more because of the memories of events that happen to us during the day prior.”

“Yeah well, I don’t exactly go hunting wendigo’s, vampires, werewolves, and ghosts during the day.”

Your heart and breathing stopped suddenly at his words. What did he just say? Did he just say what you thought he said? You looked at his angelic guard in nervousness. It’s light flickering a yes to your thoughts. This guy is a goddamned prophet. 

“You are having dreams about supernatural entities?” you questioned while readjusting yourself to keep your expressions and body movement as calm as you could be.

“Not just them, but also these guys. Brothers and a dad hunting them across the country.”

“Are these individuals perhaps someone you may have met before?”

“No, I’ve never seen them, but in the dreams, I am not exactly interacting with them, more like watching a television show unfold.”

You felt yourself nod in reply. Definitely a prophet. But how much did he know? Did he even believe?

“Are you religious Chuck,” you questioned calmly.

“Like God and that stuff? I mean I know about it but I don’t exactly go to church or anything like that,” he replied in confusion to your question.

“Some people find religion to be an outlet when dealing with stress,” you calmly replied, answering his unspoken question. “So did you have prior knowledge or interest in the supernatural before these dreams started?”

His eyebrows scrunched while contemplating his answer. “I mean, I’ve read Dracula, and I’ve seen the Patrick Swayze movie but other than other that it had never been a hobby of mine.”

“Had never been? So is it now?” you questioned while wondering how far he had dug into the truth. 

“After I have a dream, I research some things about it online,” he replied quietly. “Almost everything I dreamt is right there, black and white.”

“So what do you do after?”

“I wake up and start writing it all down,” he said with tears forming in his eyes. “It’s like I can’t stop myself from doing it. Like someone is making me do it.” 

You looked over to the Angel, hatred forming in your eyes at what they were doing to this poor man. A man who had no clue what was happening to him. How far were they going to push him until he completely shattered?

“What happens if you don’t Charles?”

“My head feels like it is about to explode. I can’t do anything until I get it all out. I can’t think. I can’t sleep, and when I do sleep more of the story comes to me.”

“May I ask what you do for a living Chuck?” you asked to change the subject. His general background you were going to need anyways for your assessment, might as well do your job even though this was not what you expected to walk in.   “Nothing right now, it’s been too hard to try and do anything else since this began.”

“What kind of work would you like to be doing?”

“Well I went to school to be a writer,” he replied sheepishly.

You gave him an empathetic smile. “Well then maybe these dreams can be used as a blessing in disguise then.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said it was like a show playing right in front of you that you feel the need to write down, so do it,” you said while taking a quick glance toward the Angel. “Don’t stop yourself, take control. It could very well possibly reduce your other symptoms that you are having if you allow yourself to do it. Maybe you could turn it in for publication.”

“Then the whole world will think I am crazy,” he exclaimed.

You gave him a little shrug. “Use a pen name or blog them anonymously. Just get the story out of your system or you very well may drag yourself even further down.”

“A pen name,” he said quietly. “Monster Hunters by Joe Smith.”

“You may want to visit other possible names for the book title about the supernatural,” you replied with a little chuckle behind your voice. “Also you might find and use a name that means something to you.”

“Supernatural,” he replied while staring off in the distance. “I like it.”

____________________________________________________________

When Dean came back alone he was furious to discover that Gabriel had split during his absence. Mom, Jack, Ketch and now apocalypse world Charlie were counting on him to bring them back. To save them all. The weight of two worlds now weighing on his shoulders.

He pushed himself into his room, throwing everything that laid on his dresser in anger in one quick swoop. He sat down on the corner end of his bed and laid his face into his hands. What was he going to do now?

“Dean,” said the gruff voice of Cas while standing still I the doorway, observing the destruction Dean had made in his path. 

“Not now Cas,” Dean said while not looking up to him. 

“Dean, this is not your fault,” Cas stated solemnly. “We will find Gabriel, we will get to them.”

Cas continued talking about hopeful possibilities, none of them would be easy. What Dean wouldn’t do to just run away from it all, but he couldn’t. There were too many people counting on him. People he loved were on the other side. In this world, all the others he would and has laid down his life for, and now another person just got added to that list, Y/N.

“You are thinking about Bobby’s daughter,” Cas asked while already knowing the answer.

“How did you…”

“Sam informed me of her unexpected arrival,” Cas stated, interrupting Dean.

“Yeah well, that’s a whole other situation that we don’t have time for,” Dean quipped back.

“Dean, maybe you should take some time,” Cas said while feeling the frustration radiate off if Dean. “Maybe go and see her. Get your affairs in order while we figure out the next move.”

Dean sat there quietly pondering the idea. Every plan so far all had the same possible no-win situation if they did manage to get to them and stop Michael. These could very well be his last days on this earth at least. Seeing Y/N again, at least one last time sounded like the best plan he had heard all day. One last time to forget that the worlds were about to crumble all around him. 

Keep Reading Part 7 Here

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