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midgardianweasley · 3 years

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Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

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stellocchia · 3 years

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There is one thing I sometimes mention in my rants about c!Dream’s and c!Tommy’s relationship that I never expanded on, which is c!Dream assiging c!Tommy an almost divine value, well, that changes now!

Turns out I just cannot write short and concise analysis it seems, so I put everything under the cut...

/rp

I’ve talked a few times before about how Dream in his mind gives Tommy added value (again, Tommy has value as a human being already, but Dream most definitely doesn’t see that), but I want to go a bit more in depth about it.

So, we know by now that Dream has been obsessing over Tommy for quite a while now, though it really worsened with the beginning of season 2.

It is important to note that, at that point, Tommy himself was back on the idea of there being a friendly rivalry between him and Dream for the disk that was still in Skeppy’s possession, nothing more then that. He most definitely didn’t hate Dream yet (although their relationship has always been complicated) and he shouldn’t have posed much of a threat to Dream, right?

We also all seem to recognise that Dream would not have let up until Tommy was exiled, but I haven’t seen many people discuss the WHY of it. Why was it so important to him? Did he just do it because he hated Tommy? Did he do it because he was bored and wanted chaos?

Well, I think it’s because Tommy DID pose a threat to Dream. He WAS a threat to Dream because Dream had seen him during Pogtopia. He had seen him rally the troops, he had seen him keep people’s morale high even after Wilbur detonated the tnt and Techno released the withers, he knew what Tommy could do if Dream threatened L’Manburg while he was there, even while not being president (I mean, he still managed to lead a revolution against Schlatt even while never being the official leader). And Dream wanted to get rid of L’Manburg because of what it represented, because L’Manburg represented freedom from him, freedom from his rules. L’Manburg was a HUGE problem, so he needed to take out what kept L’Manburg together and that was Tommy.

But that’s not the only thing. If Dream only wanted Tommy out of the way, he could have just let him unalive himself or he could have killed him himself and pretended it was an accident. Heck, he could even have pushed for an execution in the first place instead of the exile! But he didn’t... and later on, during the Season 2 Finale, he outright refused to kill Tommy even in self defence. So for Tommy to have so much importance that Dream needed to keep a constant eye on him in exile and keep him alive, Dream’s mentality of Tommy being sort of the “key” to power must have already been in place when he formulated the exile plan (perhaps it was there from before then, but we can’t know this for certain).

I mean, he also ordered a whole prison that could have been meant to hold Tommy from the start (it has been confirmed by Sam out of character that it was made with c!Tommy in mind and the only indication that it wasn’t comes from c!Dream in a converstaion with c!Tommy, which we really shouldn’t trust at all) and a curious thing to notice on that, if that was the case, is that the prison itself is called “Pandora’s Vault”, why calling it “vault”? A vault is something that’s supposed to hold valuable items. It’s supposedly a secure location where you hide away your most precious things. Why calling a prison that? Anyway... that was just an interesting tid-bit I’ve been thinking about.

Back on the main tangent now!

So, what does Dream think of Tommy exactly?

“Listen Tommy, since you joined the server, you’ve been a headache! Okay? You’ve brought war, you brought terrorism, you’ve brought bad everything! But! But! The cause of all the wars, of everything, was attachment, alright? Your attachment to the disks, your attachment to Henry, to pets, to friends, to land, to countries, to items, right? (...) That’s- That’s the one good thing that you’ve done. The one good thing you’ve done is that you brought attachment to the server. So it took me a LONG time to realize how important attachment was, but, when I did, you know? It made me stronger, and I realised that you- you’re- you’re important, right?”

This is a quote directly taken from the season finale. I know it’s a long one, but it’s seriously important. Because Dream, with this quote, just asserted that Tommy is the reason attachments exist at all, even if that isn’t true of course (the whole disk war was kickstarted by Ponk getting mad when Sapnap retaliated to his prank by burning down Ponk’s lemon tree because he was attached to it), but to Dream it is.

Tommy, a normal human teenager with no “main character powers” (you know, like being a life and death god, or silk-touch hands, or having the brains to create nukes or being able to bring yourself back to life out of spite, basically he has nothing normally considered “special”) is deemed the reason why people are able to care at all. THAT is the added value I’m talking about. Dream doesn’t see Tommy as Tommy, he never did, he sees him as his own idealized version of him. And in Dream’s mind Tommy has so much importnace that, without him, attachments would just stop existing. “How do we know that” you ask? Well, why else would Dream have been so adamant about needing Tommy ALIVE? He already did his thing if bringing attachments was all the value Dream assigned to him. Now attachments exist, surely Dream can get rid of Tommy, right? Well, no. Because, as I said, to Dream Tommy is the embodiment of attachments.

I mean, he admitted so in that quote, didn’t he? He starts by telling Tommy that HE is the cause of everything: of war, of terrorism, of everything. But then, then he says that those same things are caused by attachments. How can we have both be true at the same time? Easy, make Tommy the concept of attachment personified!

“If I can control the things people are attached to, then I can control the server again!”

All we said before kinda puts this more in perspective. THAT’S why Dream is in constant need of controlling Tommy. If Tommy is the embodiment of attachment in Dream’s mind, then he is the embodiment of control and power as well. Because, if controlling a singular attachment gives you control over one singular person, then controlling the embodiment of everyone’s attachments gives you control over the server right?

“Look, it’s not fair! But Tommy listen: I need you, okay? I need you to keep bringing attachemnt to the server, because without you people weren’t really attached to things, but then you came and you brought ‘friendship’ and ‘countries’ and ‘things’ people can be attached to, right? And you brought that! And you’re- you’re the KEY, right? You’re the key to unlock the full potential of the server and power and everything”

Can’t get much more obvious then this... Dream literally described Tommy as “the key to everything”, that’s A LOT of extra value put on a random 16 yo. It would be a lot of value for ANYONE to have. In case it wasn’t clear, what Dream is saying is that controlling Tommy basically makes you a God. And, if it wasn’t clear enough yet, let me grab a quote from Tommy’s 3rd canon death stream:

“Tommy your life is literally IN MY HANDS, does that piss you off? Does that make you mad? Does it make you soo mad that I- you can’t kill me... I MIGHT AS WELL BE A GOD TOMMY! You can’t kill me and I can kill you!”

So, here’s the thing: killing Tommy is not that hard. A LOT of people on the server are stronger then him, even with the same equipment. At the same time killing Dream IS very hard. He’s literally one of the 2 best pvp-ers on the server. So why would this situation make Dream a “God”? Well, that’s because, based on his own philosophy, having Control over Tommy is what makes someone a God (it’s what gives you power over everything after all) and he here is fully in control. Not only because phisycally he is the stronger one, but also because Tommy admitted himself that he can’t kill Dream (Dream may wrongly assume that that’s because Tommy still has some attachment to him, which gives him another layer of control, truth is he’s just not much for killing people, the kid got too much empathy), which means he’s in control of Tommy’s mind and emotions as well to a certain degree.

And here’s the thing: wouldn’t Tommy need to be somewhat godly himself to be the ONE THING that can grant people the ability to become a God? Dream, by now, has elevated Tommy to a point where Tommy himself might as well be God. That’s why Dream was so eager to become immortals together, to study the powers that make Dream now think even more that he is a God, together, because, in his mind, they’re already on the same level, albeit in a very skewed way (and I say a “skewed way” because Dream still doesn’t see Tommy as a person, he still sees him as a tool, only he is a tool that grants people godlyhood apparently).

My theory on why c!Dream has this kind of perception of c!Tommy is because Tommy is his only remaining attachment. Dream got rid of all his attachments in order to gain absolute power, so he has to somehow justify to himself why this one particular attachment still doesn’t make him weak. Why still hanging onto Tommy (albeit in the most scewed up way possible) actually makes him stronger. He needs Tommy to be something more then a random 16 yo he once picked a fight with.

@ladycatland pretty sure you’d be interested

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #dream smp #/rp #tw abuse #character analysis #my post #I could go on so many rants about them...#but this one has been swirling around in my brain for a while now #tl:dr local green blob is convinced that a random 16 yo is god #said 16 just really wants therapy...

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gates-keeper · 3 years

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Part 1: “Words of Affirmation” Destiel Quotes & Parallels

I’m sure someone’s done this before me and done it better, but I’m compiling a huge Destiel evidence docket for no reason. Anyone got any quotes to add?

Comments From Outside Characters

To Dean

Uriel: “He has this weakness. He likes you.” (4x10)

Balthazar: “You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.” (6x17)

Hester: “The first time Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost.” (7x21)

Meg: “He was your boyfriend first.” (7x23)

Charlie: “What about Castiel? He seems helpful. And dreamy.” (8x20)

Marie: “Although we do explore the nature of Destiel in Act 2.” (10x5)

Sam: “Shouldn’t it be Deastiel?” He then goes on to tease Dean with “Sastiel” which Dean takes negatively. (10x5)

Dean: “This Cas is looking at me weird.” Sam: “So like the real Cas then.” (15x14)

To Castiel

Hannah: “We gave you our trust. Don’t lose it over one man.” (9x22)

Metatron: “His true weakness is revealed. He’s in love…with humanity.” (9x22)

Metatron: “Oh, that’s right. To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but, ultimately, it was about saving one human, right?” (9x23)

Ishim: “I’m going to cure you of your human weakness [i.e. Dean]” (12x10)

The Empty: “I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate. I know who you love…There is nothing for you back there.” (13x4)

Demon: “I thought you were joined at the… (looks down) everything.” (14x01)

There are also several instances where other characters try to poke at insecurities regarding their relationship.

Naomi: “You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way.” (8x19)

Casifer: “There comes a time when every relationship has run its course.” (11x18)

Michael!Dean: “You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he ‘gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.’ Or whatever.” (14x10)

Comments From Dean

To Cas

“There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. And two, you are not going to die a virgin.” (5x03)

“So what? I’m Thelma and you’re Louise and we’re just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?” (5x03)

“You know what? Blow me, Cas.” (5x18)

“Cas, not for nothing, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” (5x18)

“Look, I don’t need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I’ve failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don’t need it!” (8x07)

“We need you. I need you.”

For more on this quote see the “We vs. I” section.

To Other Characters

Bobby: “I think maybe it’s time you made a call.” Dean: “Why does it always gotta be me that makes the call, huh? It’s not like Cas lives in my ass. The dude’s busy.” (Cas appears) Dean: “Get out of my ass.” Cas: “I was never in your… (head tilt)” (6x19)

“On my car…. He showed up naked… covered in bees.” (7x23)

While Cas suffered from some mental issues at the time, it seems somewhat significant that he sought Dean out under the circumstances, not Sam, etc.

“There’s things… people… feelings that I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” (10x16)

“My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here” (12x12)

“He came into my room and he played me.” (12x19)

“Let’s see. Crowley’s dead, Kelly’s dead, Cas is—Mom’s gone.” (13x01)

Dean’s inability to list Cas’s death singles him out as the most devastating of the losses.

“We’ve lost everything. And now you’re gonna bring him back.” (13x01)

While some people have heard this as “bring ‘em back”, the Netflix captions and transcripts I have been able to find say “him.”

“And Cas bought it. And you know what it got him? It got him dead! Now you may be able to forget about that, but I can't!” (13x03)

“I have a family.” (In response to John Winchester lamenting Dean doesn’t have a wife and kids) (14x13)

Comments From Cas

To Dean

“I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt.” (4x16)

“I’m hunted. I rebelled. And I did it—all of it—for you.” (5x02)

“I gave everything for you. And this is what you give to me.” (5x18)

“I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call.” (6x21)

“So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord.” (6x22)

Before taking on the role of God, Cas seemed very concerned with Dean’s forgiveness/acceptance/love. It is interesting that, as God, that was the first thing he asked for, turning from Sam (who had just stabbed him) to Dean to ask for love.

“Sam, and everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. Everyone except me.” (10x22)

“I love you. I love all of you.” (Arguably to the group, but the first “I love you” can be seen as Dean-specific, especially since it cuts to Dean after being said.) (12x12)

“You mean too much to me. To everything.” (12x9) (To Mary, Sam, and Dean. However, the camera immediately cuts to Dean specifically, even though he is in the back of the group).

“I’m your Huckleberry.” (13x06)

Cas love confession (15x18)

To Other Characters

“Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” (6x03)

“I won’t hurt Dean.” (8x17)

This is said as Castiel is breaking away from Naomi’s mind control—mind control she fostered specifically by having Cas kill a thousand versions of Dean. This implies she knows that Cas’s strongest loyalty is to Dean, not Sam, or humans in general.

“The point is that they [Dean & Sam] were here at all and you got to know them, you -- When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.” (14x14)

“You know, Dean, he... he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known.” (15x13)

Other Comments

Reaper: “How do I start looking for this... Castiel?” Bartholomew: “I got one word for you. Winchester.”

Rowena: “An Angel of the Lord, shattered at the altar of Winchester.”

Use of We vs. I

In the crypt scene in Season 8, Dean tells Cas, “We need you.” This is not enough to stop Cas’s actions. When the language switches to “I need you,” Cas drops the angel blade.

We can clearly see that Dean tries to put up barriers about how he really feels about Cas in his use of “We.” For example, after showing the audience many scenes of Dean, not Sam, frantically trying to call Cas, we get the following lines:

“So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us?”

“With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.”

It’s clear that these “we’s” are really “I’s”

In the alternate future presented in 15x9, Sam asks Dean, “What’s happened to you Dean… ever since…?” to which Dean responds, “Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy and I had to bury him in a Malak box… ever since then?” While he acknowledges Sam’s losses as well, his switch to “I” in reference to Cas implies that Cas’s loss belongs especially to him.

(Mostly) Verbal Parallels to Other Couples

In 1x01 (start at 2:27), Dean pulls Sam away from a dead Jess in a direct parallel to how Sam pulls Dean away from Cas in 12x23

Following Jessica’s death, Sam keeps seeing glimpses of her as he and Dean travel around in the Impala. Dean does the same in Season 8 following his return from Purgatory without Cas.

David from “Bloodlines” (9x20) tells his love interest, “I was there. Where were you?” which is the same thing Dean says to Cas in “The Man Who Would Be King” (6x20)

When asking Dean whether he’s in love with Cassie, Dean gives a similar response to what he will say in 10x5 when asked about Destiel.

Destiel is paralleled with their counterparts from the Supernatural play who are “a couple in real life” (10x5)

Cain compares himself to Dean in Season 10. He describes the significant kills of his life (The Knights of Hell, his wife Collette, and his brother Abel) and tells Dean that he will follow his same pattern by killing the King of Hell Crowley, Castiel, then Sam. It is also mentioned that all Collette asked of Cain was “to stop,” which is the same language Cas uses with Dean in 10x22.

Dean explains how his parents fell in love to prove his identity to Mary in 12x1, “He was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed.” Later in this same season (12x19), Dean gives Cas a homemade mixtape of his favorite Zeppelin songs.

Ishim fell in love with a human named Lily Sunder who ultimately left him for someone else. When trying to recruit Castiel, he compares Dean to her.

Dean questions how much of their life has been controlled by God. Cas states, “You asked, ‘What about all of this is real?’ We are.” (15x02) Later, they find out that God has been using Eileen to spy on the Winchesters. She says, “After what happened, I don’t know what’s real anymore.” Sam kisses her, stating “I know that was real.” (15x09)

PART 2 “Physical Touch” Now Finished

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel is canon

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader

summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior. unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia

this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.

Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.

“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”

His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease. He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project. “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh. Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent. “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time? Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day? I miss that…”

You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his. “Me too,” you admitted. “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close! You used to tell me everything. And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”

Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue. “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”

“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us. And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”

Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.

“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him. He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you. Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.

Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused. “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.

“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it. “Wanna guess what it was?”

You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most. “I don’t know, Sam…”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen. “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”

You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him. “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education. Not be a fucking slut. Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans? Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me. Is this what you wanted? Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”

Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered. “How stupid are you? Did you think these would stay private? Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long. How long have you been doing this, huh? Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content. Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you? I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”

You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard. You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party. The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time. For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother. It was humiliating.

“And what about this one, huh? How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit. “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”

“Just stop talking. I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head. “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis. The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.

“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent. You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun. You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”

“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”

“You just fantasize about it. And chat with strangers online about it. And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”

You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”

He grinned and pulled you closer. “Baby… I watched all of them.”

Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.

“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she’s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.

“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry. I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account. It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you. Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can. This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”

When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious. “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear. “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit? ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.

“Say it, then. Like you said it in the video.”

“Sam, no—”

“No?” he repeated incredulously. “You can’t say no to me, honey. Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought. What are they gonna say to that? Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out? As if. So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”

You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.

“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”

Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.

“Then. Fucking. Say it.”

“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”

“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts. “I have needs too, sis. Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock. And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”

He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.

“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”

It made you wince, but it made him laugh. Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin. When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.

“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned. “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.” He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp. “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked? You talk about it all the time. You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”

“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.

“Then who did you think about when you got off? Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed. “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”

You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.

“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it? Will you spread your legs for any cock? Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”

Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned. Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly. “You, Sam, just you!”

He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss. It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be. But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra. Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours. Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength. When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully. “Wow, you really do like this. Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”

He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.

“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis. Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.” He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”

Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted. Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch. He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.

“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how. Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”

After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt. You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out. And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly. He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation. You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.

“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”

“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine. Just open your mouth, sis…”

He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.

“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do. He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim. “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”

When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.

“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling. “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster. The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened. “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”

You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.

“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want. Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.

“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed. “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this? Wow.”

A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head. “Sam, stop, please…”

“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him. “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”

Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck. Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go. And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance. When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent. “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh? Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”

But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength. Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one. “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.

“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”

When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open. He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.

“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh? Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over. I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”

He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.

“Relax, sis, not today. I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy. Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse. He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance. You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.

He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal. The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.

When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.

“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you? Just from this. You always came so fast in your videos…”

Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours. You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.

“See, baby? We were made for each other,” he cooed. “You were made to take this cock. You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”

You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch. “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”

He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you. Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.

Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh. “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms. It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him. As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on. “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused. “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”

He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit. You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped. “S-Sam,” you pleaded.

“I know you took it here before. I watched you do it. I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”

Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.

“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole. Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you. “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”

He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy. Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you. “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you? You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”

“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.

“You want more, huh? Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment. It certainly made your heart swell as if it was. He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him. “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.

Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway. Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.

“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”

It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch. You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.

His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you. Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside. He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently. “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”

He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.

“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby? We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”

#sam wilson smut #dark!sam wilson x reader #sam wilson dark fic

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vibesandwonders · 3 years

Text

And every moment precious

“I don’t think I want to be god anymore”

Jack appears in their kitchen with a sigh that seems to come from his shoes.

He doesn’t notice how Cas has Dean crowded against the counter, his fingers threaded through Dean’s hair, neck exposed, Dean’s hands midway through working Cas’ jeans off.

He barely manages to bite off a particularly potent string of words, Cas eyes him and clears his throat, Dean tries not to sigh just as deeply.

Oblivious, their son sits heavily and places his head in his hands.

Cas glances at Dean; begins blowing out the candles, sliding the chocolate covered strawberries back into their packaging, looking apologetically at Dean who nods in agreeable resignation.

8 days.

8 of the best days of his whole damn life.

Dean mentally notes that they might have to talk to Sam about customizing some sort of perimeter warning spell.

Especially, since most of their acquaintances and their god-son can just pop in at any moment. Sure, he’s gotten pretty chill about people knowing that he and Cas live together, work together, sleep in the same bed, but he’s not sure how he feels about the possibility of Jack walking into… something else.

It’s not like he can suggest cooling off their current schedule of fucking on every surface in their house (it’s unthinkable really); not to mention Cas would be absolutely against it.

“Uh,” Dean yanks on his jeans and thinks of dead animals, naked Zachariah...

“What’s going on Jack?”

Cas is already standing; moving to brew coffee, fingers brushing the side of Dean’s face as he does. The hunter tilts and kisses his fingers on the way past, surprising a wide smile out of the Angel.

How in the hell could Dean Winchester deserve this?

Cas catches his gaze and points at Jack, who still hasn’t raised his head,

Focus.

“It’s just…very boring.” Jack replies pitifully,

Cas stares nonplussed at Dean across the top of Jack’s head. He mouths something in confusion and Cas points intensely at Jack.

“Uh, wait, what?”

Jack sighs and looks up, “All I do is listen to people talk. All the time. Amara says… so much—“ Jack’s smile is sudden and large. “She is very smart, so much better at this than I am, and Rowena brings snacks sometimes to the meetings, Billie gives amazing advice, almost as good as you Dean—” He shakes his head with surety, “I think they should be god instead, Then, I can come home, and live with you… Now that you and Cas are… married?”

A spoon clatters into the sink, Cas bends to fish it out, Dean’s coughing in surprise and checking out his ass simultaneously.

Priorities.

“Oh uh… buddy— Jack…” He clears his throat nervously, he wasn’t built for this kind of conversation. Cas is suddenly busy watering the succulents in the window. The way he tips his head though, Dean knows he’s listening.

Coward.

“Me and Cas— we are just—“

“Having intercourse?” Jack’s chin drops, eyebrows knit together.

Dean chokes, his face going through every possible emotion in the next few seconds, “No uh— well—“ Cas twists around and shakes his head adamantly, “You see—“

Jack is gleefully two steps ahead and clearly proud that he is leading the conversation, “When two people love each other very much— we talked, the talk. Birds and Bees, Remember?”

“Oh god— No.” Dean puts his hand out firmly, “No— that’s not—we— uh, you and me, we uh, had that conversation one time. No repeat performance, no encores, Jack, Cas and I—We are uh—“

“Living together.” Castiel inserts, taking a seat next to Dean, handing him a cup of decaf with a reassuring smile, palm on Dean’s thigh. “Dean and I are, living together.”

Dean gazes at the man beside him, Cas wrinkles his brow at the attention; Dean’s lips are already quirking into the fondest of smiles, debating making out with him right there in front of Jack. Cas sees the intent and shakes his head imperceptibly.

“In sin.” Jack interrupts brightly, “Living together in sin.”

Their heads rotate in comedic tandem, “Fuckin’ hell—“ Dean sputters, knocking into his coffee mug,

Cas catches the mug with inhuman speed, sighing, “Dean please, don’t swear in front of—“

“I know— I know.” Dean’s pretty sure swearing is the least of their problems right now, he steels himself, “Now listen Jack, me and Cas, we are uh, we’re happy, and we’re in love… and shit.” He mumbles, can’t look at Cas right now, he just feels the intensity of his eyes and the sheer affection cascading through their bond; tries to fight the way his ears turn red every damn time the Angel looks his way.

“Well… I mean, you’re god, so I guess, it’s kinda your call anyway—“ Cas squeezes his thigh tighter, Christ he’s strong, that is so hot… Focus.

“Right, right, right, um, so it’s— No sin. We are…great.”

“Oh.” Jack purses his lips thoughtfully and nods, “But you have always been in love? How is this different from before?”

“Well huh,” Dean chuckles, blows a breath through his lips, casts a quick glance at Cas, “It isn’t, I guess, not really, it looks like I’m… just a little slow on the uptake,” He sips his coffee, if only to stop himself from talking,

“Dumb of ass.” Jack agrees.

Dean nods in agreement and then frowns. “Don’t swear, and that’s sorta… hurtful. But yeah, I guess.”

“So I can come live here?”

Cas leans closer. “Jack, you can always stay here with us, for as long as you wish, of course—and if you truly wish to renounce your godhood, it is your choice.“ He peers suddenly, “Are you lonely?”

“I miss how it was.” He says simply,

Cas nods in serious agreement, understanding immediately in a way that Dean can only observe.

“Nostalgia is powerful," He says gently, "And we did have good times, the best times.” He ponders his words, Dean leans very slightly until his shoulder brushes against Cas’ and watches his angel do what he has always done best: love.

“You are not wrong for finding solace in those memories, I have often found comfort during my hardest battles,” He chooses his words carefully, pausing between each and savoring the power of them, “In remembering good times with the people… I love.” He spares a momentary glance at Dean, “But it is unhealthy to make your future decisions entirely based on memories.”

“So you think I should be god?”

Cas' smile falters, and shakes his head, “I think, that you are a good god. You are kind, fair, and hopeful. No matter your choice you will have a home with me—“ He looks to Dean, who nods, “With us.”

He reaches out and takes Jack’s hand, “I also think, that part of Chuck’s weakness was his loneliness. We saw it manifest itself in ways that hurt the ones he loved: his family. I do not ever wish you to be lonely. I wish for you to choose what you think is best for you, Jack. Life is not about destiny. It is about doing the best you can with the time given.”

Dean clears his throat, noting the Gandalf quote before adding, “Plus, nobody said you can’t be god from our backyard right?”

Cas frowns, processing what Dean is offering. Dean continues, mostly because Cas hasn’t interrupted with an argument, yet.

“You uh, you said you wanted to be more hands off— and that’s cool and all, but if you want to change your mind, and be part of the world too… I don’t think anyone can stop you. At the end of the day, this isn’t a pass/fail decision, okay?”

He stands and pats Jack on the head, kisses Cas on the cheek. “You two keep talkin’, I’m gonna go put sheets on the spare bed.”

New fluff here

If you liked it, be sure to check

Out the rest of the Lil series of domestic one-shots :)

#dean x castiel #dean winchester #destiel #established destiel #we deserve a soft epilogue my love #domestic destiel #castiel #jack kline #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction

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oakleaf--bearer · 4 years

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198 fic set just after they got off the cliff that turned into an analysis on the samfrodo/jonmartin parallels bc i've been listening to the lotr soundtrack a lot today

"Are you alright?"

Jon gave a weak thumbs up. "Smashing."

Martin chuckled. "Okay, that is a terrible pun."

"Sorry. I'll be fine, I just need a moment."

Martin offered out an arm. "Here. Let me help."

Gratefully, Jon looped their elbows together, leaning heavily on Martin as he limped after Basira. "I'm sorry. I know you're not fond of heights."

Sighing, Martin answered. "We've been doing a lot of things I'm not fond of recently, but- It's worth it. We're going to fix everything, put it all right again, and then, you know. We can go home. Wherever that is."

Jon laughed once, tiredly. "My place or yours?"

"I have it on good authority that 'your place'," Martin made little air quotes with his fingers. "Is a sleeping bag in document storage. I, at least, still have a flat. Or the safehouse, I guess."

"Really? You'd want to go back there?"

"Why not? We've stayed there before. It's not the nicest, but we could clean it up, get it looking presentable."

"And then what, invite the villagers over for tea so they can see that we're well put together members of society?" Jon smiled up at him.

"We are well put together." Martin said with faux indignation.

"Of course, my mistake." Jon shook his head fondly, shaking the last of the pain from the fall out of his stiff legs.

"I suppose the tunnels could be home."

"We aren't hobbits."

"You're short enough to be one."

"Oi." Jon poked his side.

Martin dodged his playful assault with a grin. "Come on, Frodo, let's get you to Mordor."

"If I'm Frodo, who does that make you?"

"Sam, obviously."

"Right." Jon looped their hands together, lifting Martin's knuckles to his lips.

"Until recently I would've said Jonah is Sauron, but now I'm not so sure."

"Saruman, maybe?"

"Oh, maybe."

"Lukas was Wormtongue."

Martin snorted. "Really? Of all the characters you can think of, Wormtongue?"

Jon shrugged. "He was slimy and he took control of the Institute."

"Wouldn't that make the Institute Rohan?" Martin frowned. "And you Théoden, since you're the one who got rid of him?"

"Okay, so the parallels don't work perfectly."

"But we're still Frodo and Sam."

"Naturally." Jon said. "Frodo would never have made it to Mordor without Sam. The quest would've failed before it even began. Frodo needed Sam, and I need you."

"Don't be a hopeless romantic while conducting a literary analysis of the parallels between our relationship and a literary classic." Martin said, pulling Jon closer to his side.

"My fault for falling in love with a poet, I suppose. You've rubbed off on me."

Martin smiled. They walked in silence for a few more moments until he said "What about Merry and Pippin? Who were they?"

"Tim and Sasha." Jon answered immediately.

"Tim was Pippin."

Jon laughed. "He would've loved that."

"Mmm." Martin looked out towards London. "I miss him. Both of them."

"So do I. Everyday."

"Jon..."

"Yes, love?"

"What comes next?"

Jon took a deep breath and let it back out slowly. "Next- Next, we fix things." He smiled humourlessly. "We save Middle Earth and fly back home on the eagles."

"Haha. Come on then, Ring Bearer." Martin said with a smile, picking up the pace towards where Basira had pulled ahead.

"Coming, Sam."

#tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #my fics

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thebestpersonherelovesbucky · 3 years

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Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Ep. 4 Takeaway

Uh. No. No, I was not in any way, shape, or form prepared for that heart-wrenching opening. That raw emotion. The gut-punching fear. The devastation. The soul massive relief from under all that fear and pain. No, I was not ready.

“She’s just a kid.” This is why Sam should be Captain America. Look, no one can replace Steve Rogers. There will never be another Steve Rogers. But that’s not the point. Sam isn’t meant to replace anyone. He’s meant to be his own Captain America. A man who has the heart and soul of a person who doesn’t go looking for a fight. A man who will fight when it needs to be done. A man who reaches out with compassion first and fists second. Sam is the Captain America this world needs in these modern times and tbh it doesn’t deserve him.

“Those are our friends you’re talking about.” “The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Thank you for your contribution, Bucky. 😂 No, but, I really liked the our friends. Not just my friends, but our friends and Bucky concurring with that by pointing out who Sam means.

Sam sharing the story about his TT. His family means so much to him as does community and I think that’s why he can relate to Karli and what she wants to do but also cannot condone how she’s going about it.

Yes, if anyone wondered, Baron Zemo would sell out his family to the White Witch for some Turkish Delight.

I do like Zemo stepping back into the more villainous role. While I enjoyed the humor from last episode, it never really sat right with me that they gave Zemo a “tragic” backstory. He was Hydra in the comics and it feels weird to me to change it in such a way. He was a supremacist so his new anti-supremacist ideals is...off-putting to me.

“It wasn’t just one community coming together. It was the entire world.” Hence why Sam can understand Karli’s goals.

Sam assuming the leadership role so much in the episode. So much foreshadowing to what’s (hopefully) to come.

When Bucky loses it with Zemo and Sam is like “Don’t engage. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Not only is this more leadership from Sam it’s also showing how much he pays attention. He knows all their social cues. He knew Zemo was gonna do that probably before Zemo even did. In other words, Sam Wilson is remarkable.

Sam calling Sharon for help. I wasn’t expecting her again so soon. Yay!!

As soon as John Walker steps on screen I want to punch something.

“He’s dealt with worth. And he’s not my partner.” Look at Bucky backing Sam up while trying to play it cool. We all know you love him, Buck.

Sam talking to Karli. Coming to her from a place of understanding and genuinely trying to earn her trust because he does understand her pain. He’s filled with so much compassion and so much empathy and he knows how to employ both of them to better a situation and the world at large instead of coming in guns blazing. He gets it. And he wants Karli to know that he gets it. His approach to getting her to see that she’s going about it in the wrong way. But while she’s okay with acceptable loss, she in fact expects it, Sam is not. “No, it’s not a better place if you’re killing people. It’s just different.” Again, this is what makes him a good Captain America.

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky’s faith and trust in Sam when Walker is literally itching for a fight. That...cold, obsessed look in Walker’s eyes was chilling. (I’ve given kudos to Mackie and Seb for their acting but I should also acknowledge Wyatt Russel’s chilling performance))

Thank you, John Walker, for coming in and making things better oh wait, no. Just come in a fuck things up. Super of you.

Sam’s immediate “no” when Zemo asked if he’d take the serum if he was offered it and asking about Bucky being included in the “super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.” “Blood isn’t always the solution.” Sam is just. I’m running out of words.

I’m now walking a thin line of patience with Bucky criticizing Sam over not taking the Shield. Like, yes, he’s right in that Steve’s wishes were not honored, but Sam is living the consequences wanting to do the right thing by giving the Shield to a museum. He did not and would not have ever handed it over to anyone to use, especially not a man like John Walker. Sam didn’t give it to him. The government did. The same way they’d’ve given the serum to a man like Gilmore Hodge. The same way they forced it upon Isiah Bradley and then experimented on him and locked him away. The same way they “agreed” that Sam was doing the right thing by turning the Shield over and then handing it to John Walker. This is not Sam’s fault.

I could take hours of Ayo and the Dora Milaje kicking John Walker’s ass.

Ayo and the Dora Milaje.

Did I mention Ayo and the Dora Milaje?

I really want to know what Ayo said to Bucky there**. After everything the Wakandans did for him, I can understand why she did what she did. She helped give his freedom and his mind back to him. I know Bucky only intercepted in that particular fight because Sam asked him to and he didn’t (not totally) want them to hurt Walker but. They gave him this place of freedom and his actions (breaking Zemo out, getting involved in their fight) did disrespect them.

The Dora stepping on and catching the Shield. SWOON.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” Oh, boo freaking hoo. You don’t need the serum to be a superhero, dude. And the fact that you’re basing so much of this on that plus your obesssion to gt it just proves you’re not worthy of it.

“Power just makes a person more of themselves, right?” Vs. “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion."

Seriously, the expressions John Walker makes sends chills down my spine.

Karli calling Sarah. I actually thought she’d show up in person. Sarah’s comments about “Captain America” and her assurances that Sam is not working for Walker.

Sam’s immediate protectiveness when Sarah calls him and Bucky’s worry on his behalf. Sam’s anger with Karli when they meet again and the fact that he didn’t argue with Bucky for him wanting to come rather than Sam going in alone.

Sam and Bucky working together (anyone notice a lot less bickering??) is so amazing. I love them as a team.

Sam’s face when he realizes that Walker took the serum.

Quite honestly, if Bucky Barnes wanted to stab me with knives all night long, I’d let him.

Not happy with them killing Lemar for white man pain. I’m sure there were other ways they could have had Walker rage out.

That amazing parallel between Steve slamming the Shield down in Civil War to defend himself and Bucky and Walker killing a person who was just with Karli.

Speaking of parallels, there was SO many in this episode. The serum vials being shattered. The bursting through the doors Shield first. The jumping out of the window with the Shield. Just wow.

“The Whole World is Watching”. A quote from Black Panther when T’Challa did not kill Klaue, an actual terrorist. The title of this episode when John Walker kills a man who didn’t even incite his rage.

And, of course, that final image. I’m still shaking over it. If there’s a better image for what America represents to the rest of the world, idk what is. I just want to cry after seeing what this man is doing with it. This is why he’s U.S. Agent who represents the “power” and “strength” and “might” of the United States. Not Captain America who represents the ideals and hopes of what any country can be.

The acting in this is utterly incredible. The story has me reeling. My mind has been blown by each and every episode and I can’t believe there are only two left.

**Edit: Got it now! Thanks to those who messaged/replied!!

#Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #John Walker #Falcon and the winter soldier #Lemar Hoskins #Baron Zemo #marvel #Sharon Carter #mcu shows #fws spoilers #mcu #long post #my stuff #thoughts

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captainsimagines · 3 years

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To Topple A Giant || Chapter Nine

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 9 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; use of a derogatory slur/racist language (not said by any main character); mentions of blood and injuries; angst!

Word Count: 11,200+

A/N: One more chapter after this - I should really stop labeling this as a mini-series considering it’s already over 100,000 total words lmao. Thank you for staying with me this long! I love you guys soooo much!!!

Utah Merry Hotel, January 2025, 2:09pm

“I’m being an ol’ sport, why can’t you?” You whine, stomping your feet as you trudged up the stairs to the hotel roof. “It’s our first serious stakeout in forever! I’m pretty sure Wanda shaved her legs for this.”

Steve shoots a flustered and unsettled look over his shoulder. He’s lugging the rifles and extra equipment on both his shoulders so you know he’s truly baffled because to even attempt a look over… well, that required real effort. He doesn’t answer, however; he continues upward.

Bucky and Clint are following close behind. They’re tired, huffing every few steps and grunting while doing so. Finally, Bucky whines and throws himself against the wall dramatically. “Remind me why we couldn’t just get Wanda and Sam to lift us up there?”

Steve readjusts one of the rifle straps while he replies, “Buck, I told you not to skip leg day.”

“I skip ‘everything’ day. I’m just now employed as a superhero, thank you very much. The serum should be enough.”

“Are we even close?” Clint asks and passes Bucky on a few steps. Bucky takes that as a challenge though and hoists himself more steps before giving up again.

You just watch in pure amusement. Makes you really proud that your thighs are stronger than theirs. “Just a few more flights.”

They both groan in unison. Steve has already rounded the next flight, no longer waiting on the three of you. It takes several more minutes until you kick open the roof door Steve had left slightly ajar. It’s cold outside, wind howling with icy droplets whipping through your hair. It’s only fifty stories up but it’s pretty high - you can see the tops of the trees, or branches really. It’s winter in Utah and most of the trees are naked and covered in snow. You hope Bucky and Clint, the dynamic duo no one saw coming, still have good aim in this wind after a year of vacation.

“Alright. Buck - Clint, set up over there. Y/N, you’re over there.”

“Aye Aye, Captain.”

You set up where Steve instructed. You’ve got a simple magnifier and some binoculars - you won’t have to do any shooting today, thank the Gods. Clint’s got his arrows and Bucky’s got his sniper. Steve’s waiting for a signal from Sam if need be - he won’t need to shoot today either.

“Wanda and Sam will let us know when the cars pass the barrier. The tech cannot, under any circumstances, pass through the gate right over there.” Steve points to the giant, black coated metal gate. There’s no one on duty. You made sure to evacuate the area and any staff before. The tech these goons are bringing in is all stolen Stark Tech. And according to Happy, strict instructions are to ‘blow it to Hell’.

“And if it does?” Bucky asks, grinning mischievously at Steve’s pointed look.

“What’d I just say?”

Bucky laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “Damn, Stevie. Calm thyne tits.” He goes back to fiddling with his rifle. “Blow the tires before they reach the gates but after they pass the barrier. Got it.”

“Peter, you in position?” Steve asks and adjusts his earpiece.

You can hear Peter over your own mic. “Seatbelts look easy enough to break. I’m in position, I can easily pull them from the trucks.”

“Five minutes then.”

You all settle in. The cold has passed through the leather of your boots and your toes are paying the price. It makes you miss the rain of spring and the sprinkles of fall, when everything is drenched rather than frozen and your toes still have mobility. Your jacket is big enough but it scratches your neck every time you lean down to look through the magnifier. As the minutes tick by, you brave the cold and take it off. You’d rather conduct your part efficiently and without the constant distraction.

“It’s almost forty degrees out,” Steve mumbles beside you. He’s looking over the roof balcony and into the trees. He’s squints and refuses your offer of binoculars.

“So I get a sore throat.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Tony put a heater in all our suits. You should have worn yours.”

“My suit is half nano. It’s excessive for a stakeout.”

He huffs but you ignore him, choosing to look through the rejected binoculars instead. He shuffles, and then there’s a warm weight enveloping your shoulders. It’s his sweater, cotton and baby blue, and he lifts the hood to cover your cheeks and ears. Your stomach flip-flops.

“Uh, thank you,” you say and zip it closed.

Steve shrugs lightly, “Don’t mention it.”

So you don’t. He doesn’t look cold besides or he’s just really good at masking it. It’s quiet now; you can’t really hear the quiet mutters of Clint and Bucky enough to join in and to not mention the jacket is eating at you. You opt for a casual conversation instead while you wait.

“Soooo… how’d your date go last week?”

Steve clears his throat and turns to you, a forced grin on his face. “They, uh, they were sweet.”

“Sweet,” you repeat, nodding at nothing and cursing yourself for creating such an awkward moment. “Going on a second one?”

He sighs and his expression actually turns truthful. “No, don’t see that happening.”

For a second, you’re appalled. Who wouldn’t give Steve a second date? He’s an absolute catch and being a famous superhero wasn’t exactly a dealbreaker for many. Or maybe it was and Steve was blaming his alias once again for no fairytale ending. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want you?”

The words leave your mouth too quickly to reel them back in. Steve’s cheeks turn pinker, both from your words and the chill, and he ducks his head low as he answers. “It’s my fault, really. They were sweet but I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“Mm, on your phone? Daydreaming? Were they a bore?”

Steve chuckles, “I pulled out my phone, like, once to answer a text but I was a proper gentleman!”

The tension is slowly melting and there’s a soft twinkle in his eye as he laughs. It’s been so long since he’s looked at you this way: on his own accord and not on order. “Bucky said they were, and I quote,” you lower your voice and look over at Bucky to make sure he’s distracted. “‘Cute as hell’.”

Steve gives Bucky a warm look. “Eh, it’s fine. Wasn’t the one.”

“The one,” you mock in a deep voice. “Who texted you that it was so important to ignore someone cute as hell?”

Steve hesitates and looks over the balcony as if wishing for an interruption. But the trucks aren’t near yet and Sam hasn’t given the signal. “Uh, it was Peter.”

“Oh, don’t tell him that. He’ll feel incredibly guilty if he ruined your chances at getting laid.”

Steve shoves your shoulder a bit harder than he intended and it makes you stumble back. He quickly catches you by the arm and holds you still, a sheepish smile painting his pink face. He mumbles a quick ‘sorry’, and goes back to lean over the railing. “It’s cool, he knew.”

You fake a surprised gasp, “Even worse!”

“He needed me to stop by the compound and I did. Really, it’s okay,” Steve assures and he’s speaking a little quicker. He fidgets with his thumbs and it looks like he wants to wrap up that portion of the conversation. But he looks over at you and sighs deeply, and he rolls his eyes as his upper lip tilts upward. “Ask.”

“What’d he want?” It makes your belly all warm to know he expects this enthusiasm from you.

“Wanted me around. Buck and Wanda were out getting dinner.”

“Yeah, but like, what for?”

He gives you a knowing smile, like you walked right into that trap. “You made dinner but Peter was too nice to say he didn’t enjoy it, so he texted me knowing I would like it. Knowing I had it before. He didn’t want there to be leftovers because then you’d be sad.”

You step back and shake your head like there’s a fly swarming around. It startles you. “You left your date… during dinner… to come to the compound to eat the dinner I made instead?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

“How not?”

It’s five minutes when Sam calls it in. You groan in frustration and give Steve a look that says the conversation isn’t over.

There are four armored vehicles and the magnifier illuminates three bodies per car. The targets will be hit starting from the last to keep the explosions out of each driver’s line of sight.

“Target acquired,” Bucky mumbles and clicks off his safety. He closes one eye and settles comfortably as he awaits Steve’s signal.

Clint tugs back an arrow, “Same here, Cap.”

“Wanda, you ready?” Steve’s voice is lower when he’s focused. He looks over at you, your hand up with an index finger raised, and waits. Wanda answers that she’s ready and Sam counts it down. The first truck crosses the barrier, then the next, next, and finally the fourth and you drop your hand in a fast swipe.

“Fire! Go Parker!”

Bucky shoots the back tires of all four vehicles and Clint shoots his arrows to penetrate through the passenger doors. Peter works fast, webs slinging from side to side grabbing one passenger right after the other. Once the trucks are empty, Clint activates the arrows and you all prepare for the explosions. The fourth car catches flame first and Wanda contains the explosion perfectly, balling it up into a weak bundle of light and string. She does the same to the third and second, bundles extinguishing just as quickly as they burst. But the first car swings out of control on manual and the explosion is delayed.

“Clint?”

Clint leans over the balcony and squints, as if it would help. “I don’t know. It’s not going off.” He’s clicking the detonator repeatedly, holding it up for all of you to see.

“Wanda, the truck! The truck! Sam!” You scream as the truck crashes through the gate and hurls closer to the hotel. The commotion is enough for Bucky to pop out from his cover and the four of you watch in horror as the truck still doesn’t stop. Clint has stopped clicking the button, but it’s no use. The truck finally explodes in an outbreak of debris and electricity. The Stark Tech reacts poorly to the strain, electric gusts of smoke fire left and right and rattle the building. It feels like an earthquake, shaking the already weak foundations and old brick. Wanda catches the bottom to better contain it and tries desperately to smother it. But the shaking doesn’t stop and the corners of the roof are collapsing.

Steve leaps to grab and pull you away and just as quickly to catch Clint’s leg before he falls over the edge. Clint is thrown back rather harshly but Steve isn’t thinking about the abuse of strength right now - no, not while Bucky slips and hangs on to a rogue pipe. Steve crawls and latches onto his hand before the pipe gives way. He yells as he tugs Bucky up with only one arm, the other having to hold onto undisturbed brick. He won't let Bucky fall. Not again.

Bucky throws his leg up and over solid ground, and you go to help Steve pull him up. Bucky’s heavy and his metal hand pinches your skin bad but he’s safe. Wanda struggles to contain the electricity but she’s succeeding. The rumbling slows until nothing moves anymore. You collapse back in exhaustion.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Bucky gasps as he rubs his face.

“Is Wanda okay?” You mumble more to yourself and struggle to pull yourself back up. But the sudden weight of your body proves too much for the edge and in a horrible wave, you’re falling through. You practically file your nails as you try to latch onto falling brick.

“No!” You feel the scratch of someone’s fingers along your forearm and soon they’re digging into your skin, and it hurts but you figure it’s better than splitting your skull open. Pebbles of concrete are falling down onto your face and the smoke from the explosion is clogging your nostrils. You hang for a few seconds, like the person can’t believe they actually caught you. Then they begin pulling you up, lifting you to safety, and you claw the rest of the way only to tumble into Steve’s chest, shaking.

He pulls you into his arms but they’re restless, roaming over your shoulders and through your knotted hair clumsily. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice wavers and he’s on the verge of tears, it seems. His waterline is glossy and his lips are quivering. “Answer me.”

“I’m fine, hey. Steve? I’m good.”

He pulls away and his hands hover you like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “I’m sorry. I should have kept you close. I-” His voice cracks and he swallows hard. “You sure you’re okay?”

Disregarding his words is difficult, especially when you feel a second meaning to them, but you force yourself to do so. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him like this. And each time you have, it was never because of anything good. “Y-yeah. I’m good, Rogers.”

Bucky and Clint look at each other, they look at Steve, to you, and back to each other. Finally, Clint breaks the silence and huffs a light chuckle. “Are we really THAT rusty?”

Present Day, 2025, 11:45pm

The Montana skies are clear and free of passenger planes, allowing the Quinjet to swift easily on autopilot. You could never drive this thing and the building anxiety of that reality bubbles each time it makes an unsteady bounce.

Steve’s laying in the makeshift medical wing and though it’s against protocol, he’s on a secure line with Dr. Cho. She takes her time, albeit working as fast as possible too, and her light voice is fairly calm. It settles you to hear her speak this way.

‘I need you to use this disinfectant, Captain Rogers. Do not pour it on all at once… Good, now dig through gently and make sure the pliers are sanitized.’

Steve digs out the bullets himself and bites down on a clean towel. He’s biting down hard enough that his teeth make a squeaking sound against it. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not do it for him. The Montana skies are beautiful, at least. It’s a good distraction.

Steve gives a rather painful yell as he finally plucks the second bullet, cursing as a stream of blood drips onto the table. He’s got such tough skin - miracle or serum - that the bullets didn’t pass all the way through. Dr. Cho moves on to how to properly bandage the wound but Steve begins to tune her out.

Two years mucking through mud and bodies and getting patched up every other day has prepared him for whatever life may throw during this new century. Not much has changed, it seems.

When the line disconnects, Steve can finally just relax. He focuses on the soft rumble of the engine and your steady breaths.

You hold your breath as you settle the Quinjet on the open field, only half of you actually trusting automatic tech. Steve coaches you the whole time too, the little shit, and promises you’ll never be doing that again.

Steve stumbles and teeters and falls on the porch steps with a low groan. You let him fall because you know you’d only fall with him. He catches himself with the hand he’s been pressing over the bandage while the other still holds on to you. You fight the urge to crash down with him and bite your lip as you look up to the night sky.

“C’mon, Rogers,” you swallow down the increasing worry, “We’re almost inside.”

Steve huffs a pained laugh and nods. He grabs your arm again and with his remaining strength, pulls himself up,

The inside of the cabin looks comfier than the outside. You help Steve to the couch closest to the unlit fireplace before going out back to turn on the power. There’s a thin layer of ice in the grass so just in case, you scope out the garage and make sure there are snow supplies. Not that you really know what the hell snow supplies actually look like, but there’s a shovel and you figure that’s as much as your brain is going to piece together.

When you get back inside, Steve’s fumbling with the coffee maker and leaving tiny fingerprints of blood over every surface he touches. You don’t comment on them, just step back and discreetly wipe the counters each time he passes.

“Figured you’d like a pot,” Steve says.

It damn near breaks your heart how small his voice sounds. The fact he’s stumbling around the cabin making sure you’ve got your coffee fix while he’s nursing two bullet wounds damn near snaps it in two.

“Thank you,” you respond and go to lead him back to the couch. He moans quietly when he sits and again as you lay him down. “I hope you don’t think I’m sleeping here,” Steve laughs and tries to hide his wince due the uncomfortable rumble.

You smile and touch your hand to his hot cheek. His body is working overtime fighting off infection and regenerating tissue. His cheeks are a lovely scarlet red and so is the beautiful bulb of his crooked nose. He’s a little shiny, like varnish over light paint strokes, and taking the fever like a champ. “I’ll help you to the bed in a little bit. Let’s get that fever down first.”

Steve sighs, defeated, but nods. He lays his head back on the pillow and once he shuts his eyes, you get to work. The bathroom is stocked with the simple necessities: aloe vera, vapor rub, heating and cold pads, dozens of towels, and painkillers. You pop two painkillers yourself before gathering everything and dropping it on a nearby table in the kitchen. The coffee is about done brewing so you fill up a mug with bottled water and set it in the microwave for two minutes. You dip a chamomile tea bag a few times once the water is heated. There’s no teapot - you’ll apologize to Steve later.

Once Steve’s happily sipping his tea, you start on the medicine. You wet the small towels and lay them over his forehead and bare chest. You rub aloe vera on the other cuts he obtained from hand-to-hand and finally rub the vapor rub in the dip of his neck and just below his nose. Steve gives you this funny smile as you do so, scrunching his nose and wiggling it back and forth.

“Vicks,” you say as you show him the small container. “Heal you right up.”

“I bet,” he laughs. “Stuff smells like what I think liquid morphine would taste.” A laugh bursts from your chest, your first real instance of calm during these last few hours. You ignore his protests and smother more across his chest.

Steve settles deeper into the couch and returns to his tea. He’s got less sweat on his skin now but he’s still red. You go to pour yourself that coffee and return to his side. The nanotech is growing stiffer and scratching your skin but you refuse to get comfortable until Steve’s fever breaks. You’re still covered in Ernesto’s blood, the red now a hellish brown, and you try not to move your face much for risk of feeling the dry pull of it.

“Steve,” you try, but Steve shakes his head and makes sure to meet your gaze before he speaks.

“No. The less I know the better.”

It surprises you, makes you feel more guilty, but you understand. Not telling him the full truth would be beneficial in the long run. Still, your hands hug the mug closer to your chest. “Do you think I did something bad?”

His upper lip tugs upward, “Do you think you did something bad?”

You don��t think for long. There’s not much need to. “No.”

He nods, “But you care what I think?”

“Of course I do. You’re not just my Captain anymore - you’re my friend. I care even when I’m asking you if my eggs need more salt.”

“You trust me enough to correct your cooking?” He teases, but it’s a question disguised as another.

“I trust you enough to tell me if I need more salt. You’re not correcting it.” He laughs and dips deeper into the couch. The bandage is bleeding through, only slightly, so you move to find the first-aid kit.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’ll stop bleeding soon.”

You hum your disagreement. “I’m gonna keep it clean until you’re strong enough to shower.”

“You can always help me shower,” he mumbles into his tea.

Rolling your eyes, you gently nudge his shoulder as you sit back down with the kit. “If you fall, I can’t catch you, you big lug. We’d have to tell everyone we screwed in there because you falling on top of me, injured, is somehow more embarrassing.”

He allows you to remove the soiled bandage and dab around the healing wounds. He’s bruising around the sides, multiple shades of green and yellow already, and the holes are stitched rather poorly. It makes you feel a little better about your own criss-cross work - even Steve sucks at it.

“I’m sorry I had to go and get myself shot,” Steve apologizes and sucks in a deep breath when the towel drags a little too roughly.

“Yeah, what the hell happened there?”

He almost mimics you in the way he shrugs his shoulders and lifts his arms in that ‘well, fuck if I know’ position, pursing his lips and expelling a chuckle. “Had my gun trained on Ernesto. Ernesto had his own on Ramirez. Then Seda came in and Ernesto ordered Ramirez to hand his over to Seda. Played right into Seda’s hands.”

You process the explanation slowly and dab his wound a few more times before unwrapping the clean bandage. “And the damn shield?”

Steve’s embarrassed by that small detail, he’ll admit it, because he truly was blindsided by Seda’s appearance. You were supposed to be holding him down after all. “In my defense! When it’s shrunk down and in your pocket rather than latched onto one’s arm, it’s easily forgettable.”

You clean around the wound softly before placing and taping the new bandage. The conversation settles and you’re both quiet for a long, long minute. He thanks you for cleaning him up by rubbing sweet circles into the knuckles of your right hand. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. It’s like a wave of irrefutable worry and rage, all bunched together with each emotion trying to outweigh the other. That goddamn riptide, sucking you in and keeping your head below water just for the hell of it. Breathing in harshly, you fail to keep yourself from stuttering over your words. “I’m sorry.”

Steve bites back a groan of pain as he leans over to take your cheeks in his palms. The brush of his fingertips lets you know that you’ve already started crying. You don’t much care about the facade anymore. “Doll, listen to me. Listen.”

“I never meant to leave you alone.”

“You never did.”

You bark out a wet laugh, sarcastic. “I should have run faster. I should have killed him all those years ago. I should have never brought you into this.”

“You did what you had to do,” he says, fiercely. He forgets his own strength for a second, only slightly diminished from the healing process, and loosens his tight grip against your cheeks. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

“I wanted to hate you,” you admit. Your bottom lip is trembling and your hands clench together over your thighs. “I wanted to hate you so much. If I did, then you getting hurt or killed on this mission wouldn’t hurt so bad. I hated you for what you did. Because it made me realize that I could never hate you at all.”

“Hey,” he tries, hands now lowering to clutch at your own. “Stop apologizing for having a heart. Stop thinking you’re not worthy of even having one.”

Your face crumbles and Steve realizes for the first time in a long time just how much you’ve been holding in. “Why didn’t you use the stones?”

Steve’s heart clenches at the sound of the crack in your voice. He hasn’t heard that crack since Clint fell to his knees without Natasha by his side. He holds onto you tighter and prepares himself for an admission he never thought he would ever have to give. “Because Peggy told me not to.”

Something confusing happens in the middle of your chest. It clenches with anger but understanding. The answer to your question was always this simple but it looks like it’s tearing Steve apart from the inside-out.

She’s as beautiful as the day he went into the ice. All he has to do is whisper her name so sweetly, delicately, and she turns her head like she’s answering the prayer. First her knees buckle, eyes watering and blotching her vision, and she collapses on the soft grass of her backyard. Steve’s holding her the very next second, repeating that he’s real, he’s here.

“Steve,” Peggy gasps, hands shaking as she brings them to his wet cheeks. She grips and pokes and does everything so comically that Steve laughs a wet laugh when she starts smacking him. “What is going on?”

And he tells her. Everything he can remember: the good, the bad, the wretched. He spills everything, and he spills the most delicate information of their time: he’s alive, just frozen; Bucky’s alive, just hurt; the world is saved, just broken. Whether she believes it or not Steve’s not sure, but he’s so goddamn happy to see her again that he chokes every other word.

“And you? You’re happy?”

His eyebrows come together and he looks at Peggy like she’s speaking another language. She’s got the same red lipstick, same curl in her hair even if it’s longer now, and she’s filling out her dresses more. “Pegs, don’t ask me that.”

She detaches herself slowly from his arms, pausing their dance as she speaks. “Why not? You can’t expect me to accept that you stopped by to see me all willy-nilly after saving the universe.” Her lips twitch into a knowing smile and Steve melts. Her voice is sending him into a spiral, a world he never thought he would see again, and he realizes just how much he loves accents on women - especially this woman.

“I just,” he chokes out, and brushes his index finger down her cheek. “I had to see you again.”

“I get that,” Peggy says and pays no mind that the record player has stopped; she still sways gently with Steve. “But you’ve just mentioned a whole other world you’ve been a part of. You’ve got your best guy back, that Wilson fellow sounds like the life of the party, and this Agent Y/N certainly sounds like she’s been by your side through it all.”

Steve stutters in his step and holds her closer. Her stomach presses against his, and he stops abruptly. He looks down between them and runs his hand from her shoulder, down, to lay across her growing belly. “Pegs.”

She gives him the same wide and proud smile she gave him when he returned with the 107th. She lays her hand over his. “I know.” She laughs and tilts her head lovingly. “I’m happy, too.”

Steve bites his lip to keep from sobbing. He was so stupid for coming to this timeline, for ruining Peggy’s chance at happiness, for interrupting the life he already knew she created for herself. He inputted the wrong year, he suddenly realizes, and steps back arms-length from her. “I’m sorry, I was stupid to come here. I just wanted to see you and then I did, and I… I still love you, Pegs.”

“Oh,” Peggy gasps, bottom lip trembling. “Darling, do not mistake yourself, even for a second, into thinking that I do not love you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for having a heart.”

He wants to argue, say he’s stupid a million more times, but he finds himself listening to her gentle words. It’s Peggy, Steve thinks. She’s always been right.

“In this world you live in, you have James?” He nods. She continues, “In this world you live in, you just lost two of your most loved friends?” He nods again. He wipes his face from forehead to chin. “In this world you live in, you have met a woman who has the same stubbornness as you; has the same self-sacrificing streak, who has your heart in such shambles that you dare call her one of your best friends?”

Steve thinks of you and how broken your smile was as you waved him goodbye, hand clenching Sam’s as Steve gathered the stones and Mjolnir. He thinks of the times you’d leap onto his back and demand a ride; the times he’s saved your ass in a firefight; how his sleep has definitely improved ever since he started calming you from nightmares - he hasn’t slept so well since before the war. He nods again.

Her eyes go soft. “Steve,” she starts and Steve knows. He doesn’t want to know. “Don’t abandon the world you’ve built for yourself. Surround yourself with the people you love. Do this for me.”

“There’s so much hate and blood waiting for me when I get back, Pegs. I don’t want to-”

“There is a difference between you not wanting to and you having to.” He drops his head and focuses on the floor. Peggy isn’t done grilling him, however, and he looks back up to grant her the respect. “You must not abandon the world you helped create. I’m not saying this to be mean. I’m saying this because I know you don’t want to.”

“Pegs.”

“I see right through you, Steve. We marched together through mud and blood before. We’ve got two years of fighting side by side under our belts. I’ve seen you at your worst, and you I. I know that face anywhere.”

“I missed you, Pegs,” Steve breathes. She cups his face with her hands and draws their foreheads together.

“The stars weren’t written in our favor. But to know that you’re alive, and that you make it, and that you actually get to live,” she bites back a sob. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“It isn’t my world to begin with.”

“No, you’re a man out of time. But so is James. You won’t abandon him now, will you?”

He chuckles low and their noses touch. “Stop making me feel guilty for wanting to find you, Peggy.”

She presses a soft kiss to the side of his mouth and finally breaks away. “And you won’t abandon that sweet girl who has put up with your nonsense for the last five years, you say?”

Steve shakes his head and meets Peggy’s gaze. “I’m just tired.”

“They are too, I bet.” He turns to the door and to Peggy, and she figures it’s almost time for him to leave. “You have been the archer and the brave, Steve. I’m absolutely certain you’ve been more. You will be more.”

Steve says his final goodbyes and stops to remember the fine details of Peggy’s face. The fifties are treating her well. Steve expected nothing less. Bright lights flash around him and he’s back to the world he wanted to leave, to hide from, and he sees you - and your mouth parts in shock.

“And you listened to her?” you ask.

Steve smiles, although it’s hard for him to remember that conversation. “I came back. I didn’t listen to her when she said to surround myself with people who love me, and who I love in return.”

“No, you made damn sure of that.”

“Hey,” Steve chuckles. “Don’t take smacks at me when you’re down.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, it’s just too easy sometimes.” Laughing about the two years of missed chances and spoiled friendship was not on your bingo card for this week.

“I don’t know how this is going to play out,” you admit. Steve looks so young with a somber expression: his eyebrow creases gently without wrinkling the rest of his forehead, the side of his mouth tilts downward, and his eyelashes kiss the pink of cheeks. “I decided in the moment. So I’m fuck all out of ideas on how to proceed.”

He nods in understanding. “Guess we just have to look over our shoulders three times instead of two now.”

“Simple like that?” You scrub a hand over your face and curse inwardly when you smudge your lipstick down to your chin. You ignore it. “I know we’re Avengers, but.”

“No buts,” Steve says and moves to sit up. You help him by pushing his shoulders and he accepts your help as you struggle to the bathroom. “You helped the guy and his daughter. I’m sure he’s going to be watching our backs from now on.”

You help Steve strip from his dress pants and shoes and finally remove your suit as well. The graze on your arm is covered in brown, dried blood but the wound isn’t deep. It’ll sting like a sunburn, you know that, but it’s better than being shot through. You watch Steve enter the shower and leave the curtain drawn. His bandage is soaked again but thankfully it’s from the water and not more blood. You grab a spare towel and soak it with water and soap, and rub it across your lips and chin.

“Let me do that,” Steve calls. You strip bare and bring the towel with you into the shower. Steve takes it and scrubs over your face, gently but more rough as he gets to your eyes. It’s an innocent moment of ‘ouch, scrub softer!’ and ‘surprised I didn’t take all your lashes off’. He helps clean your wound as well and once you’re both clean, he bandages you up and you him.

The master bedroom is the only room without electricity so you gather some candles. It’s like the two of you won’t admit you’re currently afraid of the dark or what may lie in it. They illuminate the room in a delicate orange and it’s such a peaceful color to briefly see before falling asleep, head tucked into Steve’s chest and his heartbeat thrumming gently with your breath.

It’s a wonder what a night’s sleep can do. Steve’s wounds are sealed and his fever is gone, but there’s a signature left behind. A pink and white patch of skin as tender as a newborn’s, a memory. Steve pours your coffee and his tea while you trace your fingers over it.

Two hours after eating a small breakfast and securing the perimeter, a soft ding startles you from the random book you’re reading. Steve’s phone shines with a message from Sam. It simply reads: ‘Clear’. Grabbing the phone and walking out onto the porch, you find Steve sitting on one of the steps he tripped over just yesterday. He’s sketching the sky and the trees, taking his time on the lines of the branches, the strokes of the leaves, and the frost over them. He looks up, studies his surroundings, and looks back down to add a detail he previously missed. He sniffs, rubs his nose, and finally notices you leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he says, soft. “Any news?”

You hold up his phone and nod. “Sam says we’re clear to fly in.”

Steve looks back to his drawing. You hesitate before speaking, knowing damn well an all clear means get your ass back as soon as possible. “Finish your drawing. I’ll pack whatever we need to.” Steve’s mouth parts but he shuts it just as quickly. Slowly, he nods.

There isn’t much to pack since you brought nothing but the clothes on your backs. Everything at the hotel was collected before the wedding and should have flown back with Scott and the others. It feels awkward stealing bottled water and processed foods to hoard on the quinjet, but it’s a necessity. Steve meets you at the quinjet doors, shows you his drawing, and volunteers to take the wheel.

“You’re not volunteering. You’re ordering.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “No license, no drive.”

“What are you? A cop?”

“Don’t think for one second I won’t actually hand the wheels over and happily crash while screaming ‘I told you so’.”

Steve steers for the duration of your flight. The next few hours are spent just enjoying each other’s company, speaking of all things and simply catching up. It’s amazing how much you two missed from one another’s lives those two years.

The landing base is clear and it’s Sam who’s waiting for you as the Quinjet manually lands itself. He shoots you a gap-toothed smile and extends his arms, pulling the two of you in at the same time for a strong hug. He’s talking a mile a minute about how successful the mission was, how Fury is over the moon that it’s finally over, how the DEA is thinking of congratulating everyone one by one. It’s enough to distract Steve, who’s just happy to see his best friend again, but it isn’t enough for you. The large metal doors sealing the storage facility from the rest of the compound are thrown open. Bucky stumbles through and practically sprints over to the three of you.

“Get back on the jet,” he orders, already pulling you by the arm. You all look at one another like he’s gone mad but that’s impossible. Bucky’s paranoia isn’t something to take lightly; he’s right nine out of ten times.

“Buck, what-?”

“Rhodes couldn’t hold them. They have warrants, Steve.”

Steve hauls Sam onto the jet as well. “Warrants for who?”

“Get down from the jet without a fight and this will all go smoothly.”

There are about twenty uniformed officers surrounding the jet. They spread out in case anyone decides to run but it seems pointless to even try. Secretary Ross points his gun directly at you, proud and tall and looking just the same as you remember him. Last time you saw him was at Tony’s funeral.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you bite, and raise your hands in cooperation. Ross shakes his head and his expression contorts into one of disgust. There are red beams coming from each gun but your friends are clean - the beams are only pointed at you.

“Agent Y/N Y/LN, you’re under arrest for multiple charges of drug smuggling, trafficking of illegal goods, the murder of Ernesto Vega and Daniel Seda, aiding and abetting drug-lord Omar Ramirez, and for conspiracy against the United States of America. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a federal court of law...”

You drone out half way through. Ross finishes up the speech but no one is listening. Sam is already yelling over your Miranda Rights and Bucky’s frozen in place. Steve’s fighting his way through to Ross, pushing through the muscle until he’s face to face with him. But Ross isn’t fazed. There’s nothing left to do but exit the jet.

Immediately there are handcuffs slapped to your wrists. Two men drag you over to the containment car that’s enforced with so much indestructible material it’s almost insulting. You weren’t enhanced - they were doing this for fun.

“You’ve got it all wrong! Y/N! Y/N!”

You don’t fight. Conspiracy… you’re surprised they didn’t just shoot you dead. Steve’s still yelling, begging to be heard, but you try to block him out. It’s not your first time being arrested but it is your first time being charged with something you didn’t do. As funny as that sounds, it’s terrifying.

“Steve,” you say, and Steve breaks through some more hired muscle so he’s within earshot. “It’s okay.”

His face pulls up in pain, “No, you didn’t do this! They’re not listening!”

One of the officers pushes your head down roughly and tries to shove you in the backseat. You’re still looking at Steve. And those eyes, wounded and vulnerable, haunt him even after the door shuts and the car drives away.

There’s a privilege attached to the mantle of Captain America. Perhaps he was too blind to see it during the war or just too proud he was finally being heard and respected, but now he sees it for what it really is. It’s a mantle this country has never truly associated with the person but with the purpose. Steve was manufactured to help protect this country under government orders and when he defied that purpose, he disgraced the mantle. Seems like some people idolize the role a little too much.

But he’s still Captain America. This reality has continued to clear his name from stunts he pulls and laws he breaks. And once Steve is able to walk away without so much as a scratch, he leaves bodies behind.

Sharon. Sam. Bucky. Wanda. And now you. All people who fought his fight and weren’t granted the quick privilege of that perceived pureness and holiness. He was always ready for combat, he was built for it, but he didn’t really want it.

Did he?

Ripping that star off his chest was one thing. Accepting his new shield cemented his continual legacy as the Star-Spangled Man. He deserved to be in that cell with you. But if he learned anything about how the world works, it’s that cruelty doesn’t just win in the movies. All of his enemies started out friends and if he had to bet, he’d bet the reason they’re labeled as such is partially because of him.

So he sits and listens to everyone’s ideas and plans, vetoing and dismissing one right after the other, his mind doing jumping jacks. He’s both there and not, drowning in the fact that he made it home and you didn’t. He doesn’t know how to sleep without the sound of your snoring anymore.

He sits and listens.

The cell isn’t one you would expect for someone who has been charged for betraying her country. It’s modestly furnished: a black cot in the far right corner with a mini table beside it, a desk with some paper, and a door that leads to the private bathroom. All in all, the room’s size is that of a child’s bedroom; there’s no actual pens and pencils for risk of violent behavior and there’s a bulb camera that moves when you move.

You’ve been trapped in worse.

Countless detectives and investigators have visited already. They all ask the same questions: Why did you do it? Did Captain Rogers know? Who are you, really?

You give the same answers: I didn’t do it. Of course, every single person knows. Who do you think I am?

Every time they leave more discouraged than the one before them, refusing to compare notes with one another in case they were in possession of gold. They all ignore you when you try to ask for Steve and his wellbeing. Their faces contort, they whisper to their partners, and they shake their heads in disappointment. One even goes as far as to threaten you, warning you to keep Captain Roger’s name out of your wetback mouth or else, until he’s escorted from the cell. Not that it really matters - the manipulated ideals of these people will always blur their search for the truth. And when the truth fails to satisfy such greedy manipulations, they choose to create their own.

There is one agent who peaks your interest. He offers you gum when he settles in the chair near the door. His name badge reads ‘Kavert’; it glares in the bright lights overhead and he makes no other attempt at small talk once he gets comfortable and opens his little notepad.

That goddamn notepad, you think. Every single person before has prided themselves over it, scribbling little notes about your tone of voice, body movement, and vague answers. You never give much, Natasha had taught you better, so they always end up writing less than two bullet points before giving up.

But Agent Kavert surprises you by opening up to a blank page, spitting his chewed gum in the middle, and then he shuts it closed. He offers you a real smile, one that doesn’t look practiced or forced. It lets you study him without being so guarded or uncomfortable. He seems young, not really a rookie but it’s obvious he’s spent more time behind a desk than out in the field. His dark hair is short, sprinkled grays near his temples, and his attire screams upper level. His build is lean, his gun is in the holster on his right hip, and a part of you knows he’d put up a hell of a fight if you tried to escape.

“I was gonna comment on what lovely weather we’re having, but I don’t think you get out much.”

You’re startled into a real laugh. Satisfaction washes over his face.

“I think you’re wasting your time, Agent Kavert.”

He grins and moves to proudly pull at his jacket and present his badge. He sets the notebook to the side and leans forward to cup his hands together on his knees.

You squint at him. There’s nothing interesting about you right now: back against the wall as you sit criss-crossed on the cot, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, hair brushed but a little greasy. Your last shower was two days ago and you figure they’ll let you have one tonight.

“Yeah, you’re right. There’s no point in hoping you’ll tell me anything you haven’t shared yet.”

“Nope.”

He hums low in his throat and tilts his head to the left. Now, he squints at you. “I just don’t get it. How did you do it? Not show up on our radar, I mean?”

It doesn’t seem like he’s calling you guilty or innocent. Already he’s one-hundred percent different from the other agents. “I wasn’t exactly hiding.”

He sits up to lean back in the chair, “Different last name, government and Avenger protection, covering your tracks so carefully even the DEA missed you.”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“Yes, but,” he starts. He acts like he’s having a normal conversation on his front porch. “It still doesn’t make sense. How could Nick Fury miss this? Tony Stark? After the whole Obadiah situation, I expected him to-”

“It’s simple, really. Do you want to know or do you want to keep making assumptions?”

He’s watched the other agents leave by this point. Some couldn’t even make you talk. So he shuts up and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Cool,” you breathe out. “First of all, I’m literally only telling you this because I’ve already been refused a lawyer or some crap like that and I highly doubt this is going to actual court. The publicity would be horrible.”

He bites his lip but you catch the little smile forming. You continue, “And I have nothing to hide. I’m sure my Captain, my teammates, and Fury himself have given their sides. Am I right?”

Agent Kavert adjusts himself in the seat and nods in response. He doesn’t dare interrupt you now.

“Good, then I’ll keep it sweet. They knew who I was. I was recruited to be an inside source, a double agent, and this wedding was the perfect chance to corner those men,” you declare, turning your hands palm up and shrugging your shoulders. “There, happy?”

“Double agent.” Agent Kavert chews over the words, rolling them around on his tongue a few more times. He’s squinting harder and you can see his brain working. The next sound to leave his lips is a heavy sigh and a feeling of immense irritation washes over you. It wasn’t enough. “Are we going to be truthful yet, Agent?”

Chuckling lightly, you rest the back of your skull on the wall. It was wrong to assume he’d be any different from the others. “Of course you don’t believe me. You want more, they all do. I don’t suppose I have anything better to do.”

He claps his hands on his thighs and leans forward again, loud and restless. “Then let’s get started, really: Did you or did you not let Omar Ramirez, Mexican drug-lord involved with Ernesto Vega, your father... imagine that, run away from a crime scene, evade arrest, and possibly leave the country?”

“You expect me to follow all those questions?”

“It’s not the time to be funny.”

“You were enjoying it just a second ago,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer. “Then let me put it simply: no, I did not.”

“Did you or did you not assassinate Ernesto Vega?”

“I would have remembered such a brilliant kill if it came from my gun.”

“So that’s a no… Daniel Seda?”

“His gun was pointed at my Captain. Yes.”

“Against orders, then?”

Confusion is written all over your face and you make sure the camera knows it too. There are only so many times you can repeat yourself. “Don’t you have Steve’s report? Scott’s?”

“We have to hear the story from you, Agent.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You don’t believe me.”

He shrugs and quickly scans you up and down. Even if he doesn’t have the tangible notepad in his hands, he’s getting away with making mental notes. “The story just isn’t piecing together the way it should be. Why would Daniel Seda murder his greatest ally and friend?”

“Our mics have already transcribed that answer for you, sir. I’m sure of it. And I’ve got sources outside of the DEA and Avengers-”

“Like Maribel Rodrigo? Another smuggler who has operated inside the cartel, HYDRA, Madripoor…”

You cut him off, angry. “Not the full story.”

Tone of voice: defensive.

“Then that leads me to my next question.”

“Oh, fun.”

Tone of voice: sarcastic.

He speaks with a tinge of astonishment hidden in every syllable. “Why didn’t you do it? Kill Ernesto, I mean.”

“I was disarmed at the time. The Captain and I both were,” you answer, growing more impatient by the second.

He uses his hands to speak now, finger pointing along an invisible timeline detailing the order of events. “So you admit you were going to kill him if you had your weapon.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Body movement: rigid.

“Or maybe you weren’t. Maybe my boss is right, maybe the FBI is right in thinking that you are a double agent leaning more towards your roots than our boys in blue.” He says this like its scripture; like it’s some holy conspiracy he’s just found evidence for. He wants you to plant words in your mouth and in this discussion so he can pluck the evidence from the ground and water it with fire.

You scoff hard, “I hardly ever wear blue when doing your job for you.”

“Was letting Omar Ramirez escape our job or just yours?”

Telling him the truth would mean losing all credibility, all titles, all trust in your work. You know what you’ve done and you don’t regret it. Ramirez was never the biggest fish and if you spun this right, then he was simply a fish who got his meal and promptly swam away. “You assume I let him go. What evidence tells you that?”

He ignores the question and instead asks another of his. “Why were your relations kept hidden from SHIELD and the FBI?”

“That’s a question for you know who.”

He shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re in a lot of trouble.”

“I bet I am. But this is not some precinct where you can get my team to turn on me so easily. And this is not a situation in which they’re lying for me. I trust that whatever the Captain has said is the answer to all your questions.”

“We’re gonna unravel this case. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of sleepiness. These past two weeks have been exhausting even if you haven’t moved more than five feet from wall to wall. Having to repeat yourself to people who have already written the story for themselves is tiring. “I don’t know why you guys can’t just believe the words of myself and everyone vouching for me. We got you all the evidence. We have given you more names and connections that you’ll ever know what to do with. You don’t need to unravel anything; it’s all there! But because we weren’t able to arrest the one person you wanted, that being Ernesto, you go after me. You have White but I guess he’s not talking. And you’ll believe what you want to believe.”

“I trust my gut.”

“As simple as that, huh?” You sigh deeply and cross your arms over your chest. “You know, there’s a saying the late Agent Carter used to tell all SHIELD agents when they first started out and when they came back from missions. When she retired, it was Fury who then eased our minds.”

Agent Kavert has a harsh line creasing through the middle of his forehead and he looks deeply interested.

“There are three sides to every story,” you recite. “Your side, my side, and the truth.” A gentle shrug of the shoulders feels like all you’re allowed to give him. “I’m not lying to you but I’m not telling you the full truth either. Just my side.”

Agent Kavert shuts his eyes and bounces his left leg. He looks conflicted and unable to formulate a response at all. He’s shaking like he’s at war with himself or with the suits on the other side of the door, but no one has come knocking yet. “Let’s say I believe you. Just for a second.”

You nod.

“Daniel Seda murders Vega at his own daughter’s wedding. We managed to catch Marcus White and because of fault entirely, Omar Ramirez gets away. Because from what I heard, Ramirez was working with you.” He paints the picture rather mundane, but you shoot him a smile that tells him he’s on the right track. “And you and all the other Avengers were blindsided by Ramirez. You gathered all the evidence you were told to gather, worked together and played your cards right, infiltrated one of the most secure estates in the country, and fucked up so badly that you managed to let two of your biggest giants die?”

“I really think you got it spot on.”

He laughs dryly, “But it still doesn’t make sense. Once Vega was gone and Seda survived, where would you have fallen in this tree?”

He wants to retract his question the moment he sees your face fall with such a sincerity he wasn’t ready for. “That’s just it, Agent Kavert. I would have fallen.”

“And the other two? How would business work? Would Daniel Seda have been the head of it now?”

“Your answers are in the evidence we gathered. I know you guys aren’t touching it because you think I’m compromised.”

He stands from the chair and dusts off his jacket. “Your side, my side, and the truth,” he repeats. He goes to open the door but you speak quickly before he can leave.

“They think I infiltrated SHIELD, the Avengers, and am in bed with HYDRA because they’ve been helping Ernesto’s vision all along.” Agent Kavert stops and turns back to you. “I am a double agent whose identity was kept secret to aid this country and not raise suspicions from your part. I have seen a lot of things, have done things I’m not proud of, but I’ve done it all for a reason.”

Agent Kavert looks almost ashamed. Tone of voice: sincere.

“Me and my Captain saved lives, our own as well, and we stopped three of the most notorious drug-lords who have been at large since the eighties. We got your giants for you. And the truth is, I have discovered: through all my pain and experience... that it’s excellent to have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.”

Agent Kavert doesn’t know if you’re talking about Ernesto, the U.S Government, yourself, or him. His eyebrows pinch together and he slowly moves to leave the room.

It’s another week before you’re visited by someone who isn’t bringing you food or extra toilet paper. You’re picking at your cuticles when the vents above your cell begin rattling with the obvious weight of a human being. You sit dumbly on the bed, straining your ears and trying hard not to laugh as each rattle is returned with a muffled curse. The vent on the ceiling right outside your cell drops to the concrete floor.

Ernesto’s men wouldn’t go through all that trouble to kill you James Bond style. They would have just bribed a guard. So it’s a treat when the door swings open quickly and in comes a staggering Clint, keys in one hand and his phone in the other. The screen is illuminated, showcasing what looks to be blueprints. He’s got a bandaid over his left eyebrow and dust all over his clothes.

Your upper lip twitches into a silly smile. “You’re ridiculous if you thought you wouldn’t be heard in those damn vents.”

Clint makes a noise that sounds like he’s saying ‘maaaf’ and he plops down beside you on the cot. It’s absolutely hilarious he traveled in the vents and that the team approved this when in reality, they could have just sent Scott. “Just had to get past the first line of security. Plus, the blueprints said they were wider... I figure we’ve got a good three minutes before they check the cameras.”

It’s not the first time you sit in a cell with a time crunch.

The Raft is nothing special. They have you all separated by rank, meaning you were in the same vicinity as Clint, Sam, and Scott. Wanda was moved to a more secure location and you haven’t seen her since they brought you in.

There isn’t much to do in a place like this. You tried counting how many strands of hair you had but gave up once you counted two hundred; you tried seeing if the others could hear you when you yelled out to them but the cells were soundproof; you even tried filing your nails against the uneven paint on the wall. It’s like they made life in these cells purposefully horrible - like you didn’t save the world a couple times over, c’mon.

The camera fidgets over your head where you’re laying down and after a few seconds, it stops. The red light slowly fades and turns a bright yellow. You move to stand on the bed and reach for it, but a voice startles you from doing so.

“Don’t mess with my magic!”

You topple over the single pillow you were given and fall flat on the bed, scrambling to shield yourself from whoever intruded. “Jesus!”

“Oh, I met him. Strange lad, didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

There’s a moment where you think you must be dreaming. His hair is longer and hits his shoulders and he’s added some blue and yellow to his usual attire. But other than that, he’s alive. Truly, brilliantly, really alive.

“Loki, what the fuck?”

“Right!” Loki claps his hands and extends them outwards, smiling. “Ta-da!”

A few beats pass. You blink a few times just in case you’re hallucinating. Barely a week in containment…

“I’m sorry… I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re still alive!”

He scoffs low and goes to sit at the edge of the bed. “A God never truly dies, darling.”

“Well in Greek mythology-”

“Greek mythology and I have this unsettled beef that’s been going on for about five hundred years. Do not mention Greek mythology to me.”

“Excuse me, right, I should have known that was a sensitive topic.”

Loki swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and expels a laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your restraint is gone and you lunge forward to envelope him in the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. He returns it, sighing into your shoulder and holding you close. You pull away just to stare at him, watching his features as they move ever so slightly. It’s really him.

“I-” Loki tries but stutters. He’s studying you too and he almost looks sad. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Does Thor know?” Loki shakes his head at your question and winces when you smack his shoulder. “Loki, Thor has been grieving you for months!”

“I’m planning on it!” You don’t believe him. He goes to rub his shoulder. “Gods, I forgot you had excellent aim.”

You look back at the camera and find that the yellow light is still glowing, dim. Loki’s magic is blocking footage out or putting footage in, you really don’t know. But it’s allowing you a few moments with the man you thought you’d never see again. “Spontaneous reincarnation aside, what are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”

“I’m on this planet for five-FIVE minutes, and the television has all these reports about you and everyone fighting each other?”

“Mm, right, right.”

Loki stares at you, amused. “... Care to explain?”

Your face contorts into a hundred different expressions until you finally settle on one of gentle guilt. “The person we were after was a friend of a friend. I made a judgement call and let him go.”

“You went against orders?”

“I went against the law.”

“Even better.”

With an eyebrow cocked, you give him a judging look. “Loki.”

His eyes crinkle from the intensity of his smile and you’ve missed him, you missed him so much. “That’s what I love about you. Barely starting out as an Avenger and you’re already realizing you can do more good in your own way.”

You groan quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you closer. “I mainly did it for Steve. Wasn’t like it was a big ‘fuck you’ to one-hundred and seventeen nations for the hell of it.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Spoken like a true anti-hero.”

“You comparing me to yourself?”

Loki chuckles and runs his fingers through the strands of hair closest to your cheek. “Darling, I’m a God. No one comes close.” He sighs, serious again. “All I’m saying is that it’s refreshing to see the young break the rules.”

“I missed you,” you softly say. You can feel the nudge of his cheek turning upward against your head.

“Always nice to hear.”

Rolling your eyes, you move to meet his gaze. “So, no reason why you came to visit me specifically?”

Loki takes one cautious look at the camera, to outside your cell, and back to you. “I too do things for your lovely Captain.” His smile grows wider.

“What?”

He winks and tilts his head over to the giant metal doors that are starting to pry open. “See you in a minute.”

The alarms begin blazing; there is fog filling the room, and Steve emerges from that fog with a winning smirk.

You look over at Clint, half selfishly wishing he was Loki on another one of his midnight visits, and quickly do away with the thought. “So how’s life without me?”

“Oh, it’s great! The flowers are in bloom, the kitchen isn’t always a mess, and my bow and arrow aren’t misplaced because you wanted to have some fun with it,” he jokes, stretching far enough that his feet dig into your thigh like he’s trying to make more room for himself.

“Not like it’s your only bow and arrow.”

He chuckles and sits up. He does a once over of the room and adjusts the frequency on his hearing aid. “They read you your rights at least?”

You wait to respond until he finishes fixing it. You speak and sign the words slowly, “I don’t think any lawyer in America will want to take this case anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a career killer.”

Trying to refrain from smiling around Clint was nearly impossible. You look to the door quickly, “Two minutes?”

He shoots up straighter as he watches your hands, “Right! So we’re currently tracking down your sister-”

“My sister?”

“Steve thinks she’s our only hope at clearing your name.”

“Why is that? I told her to get as far away as possible.”

Clint sighs and scratches the skin just above the bandaid. “She stayed in Mexico all those years you were gone. By all accounts, Ernesto adored her. Because of that, her influence might clear your name.”

“But she stayed. All the more reason to believe she was involved as well,” you say, shaking your head.

“She’s barely out of her teens. Everything that happened, happened when she was a minor. She has a first hand account of the abuse Ernesto caused you. And Steve thinks that the Julian fellow might even come clean and admit to the arranged marriage. Shows a pattern of abuse by Ernesto to his own children. Could spin it to make it seem like you had no other choice but to follow his orders.”

You follow his hands slowly, some signs difficult to read but you latch onto the gist of his argument. You groan and lean your head back on the wall with a small thump. “They go against Ernesto and they have targets on their backs. Even my other siblings who are still involved with all of this won’t let it go.”

“Y/N… Ernesto’s dead. You know that.”

“His influence isn’t.”

There’s minimal commotion a few doors down. Clint realizes it’s time to leave. “It might never be. But we don’t get to live in the future.” He stands with another small groan and stretches as he prepares to lift himself back into the vent. “We’re living now, and it’s all any of us can do.”

“Clint?” You also stand and have to wave in his peripheral to get his attention. He turns and knows what you’re about to say even without the hand gestures. “They won’t answer me when I ask.”

His lips pull into a perceptive smile, “He’s okay. Doing what he does best - blaming himself.”

“Oh, okay, good.”

He’s had enough practice reading your lips to notice the sarcasm that drips from them. He hurries to lift himself up. “We’ve got about a million tricks up our sleeve. If Jackeline’s word or the evidence isn’t enough, we’ve always got Fury and his blackmail.”

“Yeah, half the guys who interviewed me look like they cheat on their wives, so.”

He genuinely laughs and jumps high, muttering more to himself than to you. “Up we go…”

The team locates Jackeline just a few days after your run-in with Clint. The building saw a triple rise in security but even then it didn’t prevent undercover agents passing all the checkpoints and sliding notes with your meals. They’d leave the tray, tip their hats, and smile like they knew the cameras wouldn’t suspect a thing.

The first note is from Bucky, with the simple message of ‘I watched a few episodes of The Crown without you… I’m sorry.’

The second comes on the same day at dinner time, this one from Wanda. ‘I think Peter is trying to flirt with your sister.’

The third isn’t slipped through with any meal, but rather through the tiny opening beneath the door. ‘Surprised we did this the legal way this time! See you soon! - Rhodey’

The final one is actually hand delivered when several guards come in to tell you you’re free to go. They’re mumbling amongst themselves, cursing the system and the privileges Avengers always get, when the smallest of the five turns to you and hands you the note. ‘I owe you one. You owe me one. Who’s counting anymore? - Joaquin’

Jackeline had been able to track down Maribel and the two of them, with such accuracy in their stories and their timelines, constructed your defense perfectly. They showed them phone records, all of the recordings from that week, had proof that you never signed a thing, and made several special deals. Jackeline promised to reveal where bodies were buried, where business was dealt with, who else was involved with Ernesto and Seda. Maribel managed to get a message to them from Ramirez, which basically cleared you from the crime they were trying to stick. Ramirez was a damn good liar, you’ll give him that, and it made you the tiniest bit sad that you’d probably never see him again.

The tipping point was when Steve turned himself in. There was no evidence that you did anything, never signed anything, never conspired behind your teammates backs. Fury made sure not to keep a paper or electronic trail. But there was evidence that implicated Steve - the contract. No matter how badly the FBI and CIA tried to make it go away, to absolve Steve from it, he didn’t back down. It was like the story they originally wanted toppled in on itself and it was actually Steve who forced you into all of this - playing your connections and forcing your hand. The contract hadn’t been voided, still hasn’t, and they really couldn’t risk another SHIELD fiasco. So it was destroyed to protect the Stars and Stripes, and in return they promised to let you go if you didn’t tell a soul. The image you’d come to despise, that tacky red, white and blue, is starting to grow on you.

‘Let me think about that and get back to you,’ you had joked. You think they let you go sooner because they feared the truth in your joke.

But there wasn’t anything to think about, ever, still isn’t. Steve pulled another sacrifice play and you wanted to get out as soon as possible to kick his ass.

You leave the prison with the same clothes you had on when you entered. They smell washed and you’re thankful they allowed you to shower before you left. You ignore the looks guards and prisoners aim at you, each trying to somehow get their hits in without actually pulling their punches. This would be a media disaster either way, didn’t matter the outcome of a supposed trial, and PR was most likely struggling to prepare their defense.

You resist the embarrassing urge to run into his arms. He’s standing right outside the gates, leaning back on the passenger side of his rusty old blue pickup, positively glowing underneath the blazing sun. You’re blinded by it, skin thanking the dangerous rays for its first touch in weeks, but it only takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. He still hasn’t shaved and his hair is getting longer, and instead of his usual tucked-in dress shirt, he’s wearing a brown leather jacket over a faded graphic tee that reads AC/DC. It was Tony’s.

You’ve only got the broken burner phone and a hair tie in your possession; it’s what was on you when you were arrested. You drop the burner in a nearby trashcan and head on over to the truck. Steve’s wide smile buckles your knees and it damn near breaks your heart. Even when the two of you weren’t on speaking terms, you still saw each other at least twice a week. Going two weeks without seeing him feels like a lifetime.

Once you're a few feet away, you stop in front of him. There are no immediate words you know to say, so you simply shrug your shoulders and give him a look that asks ‘What now?’

“Home.”

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress

#captainsimagines #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel masterlist #marvel fanfiction #mob fanfic #reader insert #trigger warnings listed #you x steve rogers

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minecraftrelatedrandomness · 3 years

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Aqua’s Live Reactions: “Quackity Visits Dream and Technoblade in Prison”

So... as it turns out, time zones, sleep, school and more school do not mix well with DSMP lore, since I’m currently typing the start of this post during my lunch break about 11 hours after the lore drop - the lore drop happened less than an hour before I was gonna sleep (which is already a fucked up sleep schedule on my part), so obviously I couldn’t watch the damn lore stream... and like 4 people did a loredrop today, so I’m prioritizing c!Quackity POV above c!Techno POV (might watch c!Techno POV later) and reacting to his side of the story first. Oh, and this is posted more than 11 hours after the lore drop because I have supplementary classes after school, mandatory school-sanctioned stuff, and I’m not risking a truancy record for the lore streams, especially NOT during my final year at secondary school.

Here’s a disclaimer: I’m watching the VOD and know next to nothing that has happened because I refused to check my notifications for over 12 hours just so I can get a genuine reaction out of this. I might have caught a glimpse of a spoiler while I was barely awake, but outside of trigger warnings that I asked for and that the TV Tropes (iconic/signature) quotes page has updated, that’s about it.

This whole post is within the context of the SMP, so /rp and /dsmp applies to everything under the cut.

0:00 - Since I’m watching the VOD, I get to see the comments in full glory. cc!Quackity has commented “oh no”. Oh no indeed. I am not sure what to expect. Something has happened, and it is bad, I can feel the vibes. Also, the comments have spoilers. Rough times.

0:14 - The netherite axe has so low durability......

0:20 - Holy shit, the shears are named “Wardens Torment”. They actually named the shears to be a torture implement

0:33 - Q why do you have like 5 bottles of enchanting, I don’t know what that’s for but I think it’s plot relevant in some way

0:58 - “ringing that stupid bell” LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THE BELL FROM THE LAST VISIT!!!!! TECHNO YOU CHEEKY BASTARD /pos

1:35 - “This is the most secure place on the entire server” and what if the nuke is hidden there? The missing Snowchester nuke? It’s just a theory, but I’m in the mood for a conspiracy at the moment

1:54 - “the point is the revival book” no it isn’t, you said it yourself in the last big lore stream

2:19 - “there’s two of them and one of me” yeah, q, i know. i know you. your weaknesses. and how you suppressed one of your own strengths to be able to do this shit. i know all about you.

2:25 - “they could do anything” ...paranoid tendencies much? I mean you’re right to be wary but still...

2:33 - really? an ad at this time? ffs the number of ads on youtube has only gone up since covid started........ i hate it here /neg

2:50 - “sleep. just in case something bad happens” oh i know..... this sounds like foreshadowing

2:55 - THE BELL SAD;FJASL;KJS;DALKFJAS;ZDJFAS;ZLDFKJAS; LMAOOOO WE CAN HEAR IT FROM BEYOND THE LAVA CURTAIN THIS IS AMAZING

3:14 - “it’s a long story” oh does sam know about dreamxd now?

3:35 - “I hope this is the last time I have to be here” oh q........ there’s some meaning behind this quote. i know it. but for the life of me, i can’t figure it out yet... does this mean you want to kill the two fuckers in there or something? you know techno has like all 3 of his lives intact, right? he’s gonna... well, I think you know what happened the last time you tried to knock him down a peg

3:46 - “it’s for the good of the country as well” ah yes so las nevadas is aligned with the prison officially? police state /j i mean it’s always been unofficially there but still...

4:30 - ah, so he admits it

4:32 - HOW DID THEY GET A DOG?? I understand q’s reaction fully. “What” indeed.

4:40 - sam’s right, the lava is acting weird. did dream and techno sabotage it or something? I remember how techno’s last couple of streams ended, or at least I’ve heard enough about it........... i think it’s sabotage

5:08 - “<Technoblade> cringe” LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IT’S SO TYPICAL OF HIM. HE’S BACK. MY LITTLE OINK OINK. /HJ

5:31 - oh so now DREAM is onto something? what do you MEAN you don’t have time and to hurry up?? do they have a plan in there or something? i know this episode is a jailbreak waiting to happen but there’s something bigger at play here, I feel

5:52 - LMAOOOOOO WAIT. WAIT. DREAM STILL HAS HIS LAVENDER RIBBON FROM THE LAST MCC ON. HOW DOES THIS MAKE SENSE IN A CANONICAL WAY. HOW. EXPLAIN.

5:53 - also sam WHAT DO YOU MEAN TO “KILL THE DOG”??? THAT’S A WHOLE PUPPER IN THERE. I mean I don’t sympathize much with c!Dream or c!Techno that much but I want to know how tf the dog got in there first at least

5:56 - q says “i’m not gonna kill a puppy-” sam says to kill the dog. well at least someone here has a semblance of morals here /j

6:28 - oh so it begins... he’s here... this is gonna be fun /s

6:44 - TECHNO DOESN’T KNOW WHY THE DOG IS THERE EITHER LMAO THIS IS RICH THIS IS EPIC

6:59 - love how they’re all just attached to the dog now. great job everyone (sincerely)... except dream. we know he refuses to name the dog because he thinks attachments are gross. we all know that.

7:07 - “let’s call it rat” RAT IS CANON LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

7:14 - “i would never respect someone who named their dog ‘rat’.” ok so is this make fun of bbh week now?? irl “rat” is just a nickname but everyone calls her that so-

7:23 - did techno seriously just try to knock him into the lava??

7:46 - ok so sam is pointing a bow at the jail squad- yeah... why. he has a good question. why, sir warden, why?

9:32 - ah. leverage. i see what you did. as if we all didn’t know from the start.

9:55 - LMAO. hostage situation that’s a win-win, and techno... we all know both of you can strangle this man with your bare hands. also the last time you tried to kill techno, we all saw what happened. /hj

10:00 - “that’s kinda harsh” no shit sherlock also HOW NONCHALANT DO YOU HAVE TO BE FOR THIS

10:08 - “Don’t do it.” Techno, you’re just feeding the toxic Rivals Duo fans at this point. Also, are you just trying to preserve your reputation of “never dying” or do you genuinely care? Because I doubt you do tbh...

10:38 - ads. gross.

10:46 - “doesn’t that kinda work out?” yeah, techno, point out the holes in q’s plans. I might disagree with your moral standpoint and compass but I’m allowed to find you funny and cool... yeah I love him too, my snarky boi

11:14 - looks like someone finally had the common sense to roast the potatoes over the lava.

11:23 - I’m just imagining the scenario in-universe because if we’re going by characters’ canon heights (plus some speculation for c!techno based on his cc’s height irl), c!quackity is the shortest one of the three so him threatening the other two is ngl a weirdly funny sight to see

11:42 - and that’s the point, dream. quackity gets the revive-book, and the whole server can be rid of you. that’s the point, good sir. we don’t want you here.

12:23 - q you’re sounding borderline hysterical here. you’re sounding almost desperate. i don’t know if this is intentional or not but you’re sounding... vulnerable.

14:08 - we all saw through that, both in and out of universe. you’re making it very obvious that you don’t want dream to give him the book, techno.

14:40 - y’all sounding half hysterical at this point

15:36 - ah yes trauma dumping time /hj /rp

15:52 - oh so he wants poetic justice, huh? should have gone the whole hog and brought a netherite pick instead of a diamond one.

15:59 - he’s gone. he’s fuckin’ gone. just before he could actually do the pickaxe thing. holy shit. lmao... in all seriousness though, I heard Techno was gonna get out earlier... I’m guessing through the enderpearl stasis chambers or whatever? this is gonna be fun..................

16:34 - i love how c!dream is still eating raw fukin’ potatoes. we all saw techno with cooked ones, right? why’s he still eating it raw? tell me

16:58 - “bring back the fridge” sir it’s in a dumpster, your honour

18:58 - ANOTHER AD??

19:53 - “if he could have escaped all this time then why didn’t he escape earlier” the will.............. philza opened it up,..... we called it, it was time

20:10 - bruh. can’t see the green boy. is he gone? i doubt it.

20:20 - the toilet. check the toilet. shawshank redemption or whatever it’s called, I’ve only heard of hamshank redemption from angry birds toons but check the fuckin’ loo, the toilet

21:10 - q is still hysterical, sam is still in denial, techno is probably back in the arctic, and my bet is that dream currently smells like shit in the most literal way

22:04 - oh no. loud noises. is this the alarm trigger warning I’ve heard of?

23:35 - what the fuck are those ender pearls doing there

23:50 - what’s to bet those are barrier blocks or something?

26:02 - underground base???!! also internal monologue time???!!!!

26:24 - ah. dramatic music.

26:55 - time is ticking..............

27:02 - battle log................

27:07 - “las nevadas has become a prime target”... for what? whose pov is this again?

27:11 - “dream has escaped prison” first of all, I doubt it, and second of all, ah ok, c!q pov still

27:28 - paranoia?? descent into paranoia?

27:43 - it’s raining outside las nevadas...........

27:47 - yo. yo this is huge. the lore drought has finally ended with the rain. also this was epic.

#aqua live reacts #dream smp #pandoras vault #technoblade #dream #quackity #awesamdude #my post #15 september 2021 #tw loud noises #tw violence mention #tw torture mention #dream smp spoilers

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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years

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The Leithian Reread - Canto XI (The Departure for Angband)

This chapter contains - at the reunion of Beren and Lúthien - my favourite passage in the Leithian, and one of my favourites that Tolkien has ever written, and I think part of my reason for delaying is that I wasn’t sure how to do it justice. But that’s a little farther on.

The chapter opens with a brief account of the Siege of Angband and the Dagor Bragollach. It’s a very strong section of the poem, to the point where it’s hard to know which specific portions to quote; the rhyme and cadence and imagery is all excellent, and is enhanced by a kind of triptych structure from beauty to fire to ruin:

Once wide and smooth a plain was spread,

where King Fingolfin proudly led

his silver armies on the green,

his horses white, his lances keen;

his helmets tall of steel were hewn,

his shields were shining as the moon.

...

Rivers of fire at dead of night

in winter lying cold and white

upon the plain burst forth, and high

the red was mirrored in the sky.

...

Dor-na-Fauglith, Land of Thirst,

they after named it, waste accurst,

the raven-haunted roofless grave

of many fair and many brave.

The description of the dark forest of Taur-nu-Fuin is also wonderfully evocative: sombre pines with pinions vast, / black-plumed and drear, as many a mast / of sable-shrouded shops of death / slow wafted on a ghostly breath.

One of the great recurring themes in Tolkien is the way that all evil, whatever its initial motive and impetus, falls in the end to ruin for ruin’s sake, to the destruction and defilement of all things as a end rather than a means. The image of the Anfauglith is repeated with the desolation before Mordor (gasping pools choked with ash and crawling muds, sickly white and grey, as if the mountains had vomited the filth of their entrails upon the lands about...great cones of earth fire-blasted and poison-stained) and the ruin that Saruman makes of Isengard (trees hewn down and replaced with pillars of metal and stone, joined by heavy chains; meadows paved over; underground furnaces with vents emitting steams, like a graveyard of the unquiet dead), and even Lotho and Saruman’s harm to the Shire (from knocking down Sandyman’s mill to make a bigger one that wasn’t needed, to the mill under Saruman not grinding grain at all but only making smoke and stench and fouling the water).

It’s not as if there is a fundamental benefit to Sauron in making the ruin in front of the Black Gate, or to Saruman in his attempts to destroy the Shire; both start out at one point with the aim of “fixing” the world and putting it in order, and this degenerates into control and rule for its own sake, and then into purposeless malice against not only people but the land itself, with misery and destruction as the only aim. We see small echoes of it elsewhere, as at Losgar.

This theme provides a strong contrast to Beren’s song before his departure across the Anfauglith, which is centred on celebration of nature and creation for its own sake, in and of itself, without any thought of control or ownership. The song fits with Beren’s demonstrated love of nature in earlier chapters, where during his lone guerilla war against Sauron he eats only plants, and is friend and allues with the animals of Dorthonion and with nature-spirits (minor Maiar?) as well: and many spirits, that in stone / in mountains old and wastes alone / do dwell and wander, were his friends. (It also has some echoes in Sam’s song in the Tower of Cirith Ungol.)

The song is given here in longer form than in The Silmarillion:

Farewell now here, ye leaves of trees,

your music in the morning-breeze!

Farewell now blade and bloom and grass

that see the changing seasons pass;

ye waters murmuring over stone,

and meres that silent stand alone!

The song also evokes a lot of the themes that came up in my discussion of CS Lewis’ The Four Loves, particularly the part on eros. Beren has virtually no expectation of coming back alive; he expect to die at best, or be captured and tortured at worst. But making the attempt is, to him, better than willfully choosing a life separated from Lúthien, and better than risking her coming to harm because of him. (The latter, as she will soon point out, is no longer something he has any choice about!) Both of them prefer the very high probability of torment or death over being parted from each other.

Additionally, Beten’s song is one of the purest expressions within Tolkien’s works of the element of admiration in love: delight in the beloved in their own right, above and beyond anything that has happened or will happen or any connection to you personally:

Though all to ruin fell the world / and were dissolved and backward hurled / unmade into the old abyss / yet were its making good, for this / the dawn, the dusk, the earth, the sea / that Lúthien for a time should be!

This feels, also, like it is getting at something deep within the mood of Tolkien’s works, where so much is destroyed or fades or is lost: the existence of beauty and goodness continues to be good, to be meaningful, even when the good and beautiful things have themselves passed away. They were, and that is better than if they had never been.

And here we come to my favourite part of the entire Leithian:

“Ah, Beren, Beren!” came a sound,

“almost too late have I thee found!

O proud and fearless hand and heart,

not yet farewell, not yet we part!

Not thus do those of elven race

forsake the love that they embrace.

A love is mine, as great a power

as thine to shake the gate and tower

of death with challenge weak and frail

that yet endures, and will not fail

nor yield, unvanquished were it hurled

beneath the foundations of the world.

Beloved fool! escape to seek

from such pursuit; in might so weak

to trust not, thinking it well to save

from love thy loved, who welcomes grave

and torment sooner than in guard

of kind intent to languish, barred,

wingless and helpless him to aid

for whose support her love was made!”

Thus back to him came Lúthien:

they met beyond the ways of Men;

upon the brink of terror stood

between the desert and the wood.

This returns to the previously-stated theme around eros: for Lúthien, being captured and tirmented in Angband is a better fate than willingly parting from him, or allowing him to leave her behind for her protection. And this, I think, is why Beren and Lúthien succeed in gaining the Silmaril: be ause their goal is not the Silmaril, their goal is each other.

But there’s more to it than that. I love the passage for Lúthien’s assertion that it is not Beren’s chouce whether she can risk danger and death for his sake. He does not have either the power or the right to protect her from her love of him. (I do think it’s something of a wonder that he still decides to go ahead with the Quest after this rather the the alternative of “let’s elope and be nature-hobos together”, but a lifetime of looking over your shoulders for the forces of Angband and the Fëanorians [yes, I think C&C would’ve gone after them out of spite even without the Quest, given their behaviour in the previous chapter] and Doriathrim sent to kidnap Lúthien back home is daunting in its own way; at least this way, if they succeed it will be over.)

This also goes for friendship (philia): in The Lord of the Rings hobbits express the same sentiment in more commonplace terms, in Merry’s, “You cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo,” and Sam’s “I’m coming too, or neither of us isn’t going. I’ll knock holes in all the boats first.” Or, even more so, in another line of Sam’s during the Breaking of the Fellowship:

“All alone and without me to help you? I couldn’t have a borne it, it’d have been the death of me.”

“It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam,” said Frodo, “and I could not have borne that.”

“Not as certain as being left behind,” said Sam.

Returning to the Leithian: Beren is still reluctant to have Lúthien accompany him into danger. And has a line here whose sentiment always seems to show up in my thoughts about Maedhros and Fingon (“Thrice now mine oath I curse,” he said, “that under shadow thee hath led!”)

Huan, returning with disguises for Beren and Lúthien, uses his second of three lifetime chances of speech to back up Lúthien’s point, and to advise them to disguise themselves as Draugluin and Thuringwethil. This includes one of the more amusing lines in the Leithian, with Huan’s Lo! good was Felagund’s device, but may be bettered. Hi, Finrod, you’re being patronized by a dog. :D He thinks you get, maybe, a B+ on the tactics planning. (Beren gets an F, quite bluntly: Hopeless the quest, but not yet mad, unless thou, Beren, run thus clad in mortal raiment, mortal hue, witless and redeless, death to woo.)

Lúthien uses magic to disguise them effectively, and to prevent the terrible disguises from affecting their minds; it’s difficult, skillful, and lengthy work: With elvish magic Lúthien wrought / lest raiment foul with evil fraught / to a dreadful madness drive their hearts / and there she wrought with elvish arts / a strong defence, a binding power / singing until the mdnight hour.

It is a few days’ journey across the Anfauglith to the gates of Angband and, again, reminiscent of Frodo and Sam’s journey through Mordor; briefer, but also worse in some respects, as they have neither food nor water.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #the lay of leithian #leithian reread #lúthien #beren #beren and luthien #huan #the lord of the rings #frodo baggins #sam gamgee

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hailhydra920 · 4 years

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Royally Matched Pt.3

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Matchmaker!Reader Royal AU

Summary: Bucky has parent issues, oh yeah, he still doesn’t like you.

Warnings: none

Part 3

“Dinner? With Prince James? Alone?!”

“Yes, that’s what I said. The King encouraged it, actually. You do need to know him to find out who his true love is, don’t you?” Damien asked.

“I guess you’re right.” You sighed. “Thank you. I’ll be ready by then.”

Damien nodded and closed the door as he walked out. You turned toward a smirking Nat and you groaned.

“I can’t do this, Nat! No girl in her right mind would want to marry Mr. ‘I Can And I Will Do Whatever I Please Even If It Offends People’. That man is the definition of insufferable!”

Nat walked toward you and laughed. “Well, no one in their right mind would name their kid that. Come on, maybe he’s not so bad once you get past his rough exterior. He is easy on the eyes, don’t you think?”

“Nat, don’t start. We’re here to find a prince his true love, who, mind you, must marry a woman of status.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you think he’s cute or not?”

You took a deep breath. “Of course, I think he’s cute! But beware of the evil behind smiling eyes.”

“He’s not evil, and I know you didn’t just make up that quote.”

“I read it somewhere, but that’s not the point! The point is that this prince thinks way too highly of himself and that there are no consequences for his actions. Enough of my ranting. How many people have you found?”

Nat clapped her hands together in excitement. “Now, I think you’re going to like this. I’ve selected 100 people. They’re from many different backgrounds, and all have some sort of higher status. Of course, we’ll be able to narrow them down once you get more info about him. Then we can interview the top ten, and voilà! We have his true match.”

“Wow, you are really on the ball with this aren’t you? Well, let’s get to business.”

~~~~~~~

“Dinner?! With the matchmaker?! Damien, do you wish to kill me before my coronation, because if so, you are doing a grand job.” Bucky growled.

“Now, now, Your Hi—Bucky, we must get you your perfect match for the coronation. Ms. Y/n is only here to help.” Damien sighed.

“Help? Help giving me a bloody headache is what she’s doing.” Bucky groaned. “Thank you, Damien. I’ll be there.”

Once Damien closed the door, Bucky screamed, a very unmanly scream mind you, in frustration. Responsibilities, love, dealing with his father, they were all so overwhelming. Grabbing the picture off his nightstand, he slowly ran his fingers over it.

“Mother, I wish you were here. Father hired a matchmaker for me. Can you believe it? He’s gone absolutely mad without you. He has no idea what I’m feeling. At least you were sensible.”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Bucky took a deep breath and composed himself.

“Men of the royal family do not show weakness.” Bucky mocked thinking of his father.

Smiling, Bucky walked over to his full-length mirror and struck a grumpy pose.

“My son is such a disappointment. If only he were more like Paul Wilson’s boy, Sam. He is always listening to his father.”

Bucky laughed at the memory. He was pretty proud of himself for his father impersonation.

“What are you doing?” Bucky growled crossing his arms like his father would. “You should be getting ready for the dinner I arranged!”

Sudden knocking caused Bucky to jump, and he composed himself before saying, “Come in.”

King George entered Bucky’s room, and Bucky hoped he hadn’t heard anything.

“What are you doing? You should be getting ready for the dinner I arranged!” The king reprimanded.

Bucky bit back a smile. “Sorry Father. I got distracted. I’ll get ready. Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

“Yes. You have a speech tomorrow in town, just wanted to make sure you were ready for it.”

“Of course. It’s all written out and on my dresser.” Bucky said gesturing to his shiny dresser. “That all?”

“I heard a scream, are you quite all right?”

“Just a spider, Father. Uh, you don’t think anyone else heard that, did you?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Calterburry heard you! I thought you were giving Ms. Y/n a fright and I came to tell you to leave the poor girl alone.”

“Poor is right. Did you see the clothes she was wearing? Utterly disgusting. I wonder if that woman has any taste at all. Don’t you agree?” Bucky asked grabbing a suit out of his closet.

“James, Ms. Y/n is only trying to help. Do give her a chance.” The king said walking toward the door.

“It’s Bucky.”

The king turned around. “Huh?”

“After mom died, you’ve resorted to calling me James. Why?”

“Now really isn’t the time.”

“Of course it’s not.” Bucky sighed. “It never is. Now if you would excuse me, I have a dinner to get ready for.”

~~~~~~~

Bucky was on the other end of the table, his blue eyes staring into yours with fierce intimidation. You smiled back at him, causing him to lean back into his chair before shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Not exactly the well-mannered eating habits you were expecting, but okay.

“Why don’t you speak?” Bucky asked after swallowing.

“Why don’t you speak?” You countered.

“I just did.”

You sighed. “Look, if this is going to work, we may need to be closer than 30 ft away from each other. This table is huge!”

“I quite like it.” Bucky mused. “I don’t have to see your face up close.”

“Wow, thank you. You are quite the charmer, Your Highness.” You retorted sarcastically.

“It all comes naturally, mind you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it. But seriously, why must we talk in the stuffiest room in the castle? Could we go outside and talk?”

“Commoners.” Bucky scoffed. “They love their fresh air. If it pleases you, then I will gladly remove myself from my extremely comfortable chair and walk into a dissatisfying evening chill.”

“Great.” You announced hopping from your chair.

“Do they teach sarcasm in America? Because I clearly just announced how much I did not want to go outside.”

You shrugged. “It all comes naturally, mind you.”

Bucky let out a short laugh. “I suppose it does.”

~~~~~~~

“So, what do you do for fun?” You asked shoving your cold hands into your pockets.

“Are you serious? This is conversation for a mere toddler.” Bucky said, his breath coming out in cold white puffs.

“Quite. If I am to match you with your true love, I must dissect every inch of you.”

“I must admit I am not very fond of the notion of me being dissected like some bug. Perhaps there is a different way to, ah, perform your studies without dissecting my person.”

You laughed. “You are a piece of work, aren’t you? But to be frank, this whole love configuration is not the easiest thing in the world. I need participation from you.”

“If we’re being honest, then I guess it’s my turn. I don’t believe in true love. I believe in a fondness someone has toward another person, but true love? I laugh at the mere thought of it.”

“I’m going to make a believer out of you, Your Highness. Just you wait.”

Permanent Taglist: @sleep-i-ness

Royally Matched Taglist: @supraveng @all-art-is-quite-useless @bestofbucky

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #prince bucky #royal au #reader insert

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marlborodean · 3 years

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spn quotes: season three

i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! my favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!

w/ncest shippers get lost

season one. two.

1. THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

Dean—

[Bobby: So we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?] Well, sold my soul, got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol. (07:04)

[Tamara: I'm heading back to that bar.] I'll go with her. [Sam: It's suicide, Dean!] So what? I'm dead already! (21:27)

[Envy: You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone? Huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust.] (24:46)

[Sam: Think she's gonna be alright?] No. Definitely not. (34:18)

[Sam: What, you got some kind of death wish or something?] It's not like that. [Then what's it like, Dean?] Sam— [Please. Tell me.] We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way, you die. Okay? You die. Those are the terms, there's no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me God, I'm gonna stop you. [How could you make that deal, Dean?] 'Cause I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it. [So what, now I live and you die?] That's the general idea, yeah. [Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish.] Yeah, you're right. It was selfish. But I'm okay with that. [I'm not.] Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. I don't know, it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. [It's hellfire, Dean!] Whatever. You're alive, I feel good for the first time in a long time. I got a year to live, Sam, I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell. Huh? (37:12)

Sam—

Look. If we're going down, we're going down together, alright? (27:09)

[Pride: And you...are Sam Winchester. That's right, I've heard of ya. We've all heard of ya. The prodigy, the boy king. Looking at you now, I gotta tell ya.... Don't believe the hype. You think I'm gonna bow to a cut-rate, piss-poor human like you? I have my pride, after all. And now with your yellow-eyed friend dead, I guess I don't really have to do a damn thing now, do I? You're fair game now, boy, and it's open season.] (31:51)

You know what? I've had it. I've been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you, and...I don't care anymore. [Dean: That didn't last long.] Yeah, well, you know what? I've been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn't care less. What, you got some kind of death wish or something? (36:56)

[Dean: I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it.] So what, now I live and you die? [That's the general idea, yeah.] Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish. (37:44)

Misc—

Greed: We're not sins, man. We are natural, human instinct. And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny, greedy, hungry, violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals, too. (25:32)

2. THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

Dean—

[Lisa: You can relax.] Good. [I swear you look disappointed.] Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know, your life. I mean, this house and kid. It's not my life, never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, uh.... Anyway, a guy in my situation—you start to think, you know, "I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?" [I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot, if you ask me.] You know, just for the record, you got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad. (26:18)

Sam—

[Ruby: All I know is that it's about you.] What? [Don't you get it, Sam? It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends—they're trying to cover up what he did to you. And I want to help you figure it out.] Why would you want to help me? [I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you from time to time. That's all. And if you let me, there's something in it for you.] What could you possibly— [I could help you save your brother.] (40:40)

3. BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK

Dean—

Just Dad. You know, him and his secrets. We spent all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man. (06:20)

Oh wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade. (07:59)

That's what killed your friend. My brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don't help us stop this thing, then that puts those deaths on your head. Now, I can read people. And I get it. You're a thief and a scumbag. That's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you? (22:46)

So you know the truth about what's really going on out there and this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief? [Bela: I procure unique items for a select clientele.] Yeah. A thief. (29:46)

So you're only after yourself, huh? It's all about number one? [Bela: Being a hunter is so much more noble? A bunch of obsessed, revenge-driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved.] Well, aren't you a glass half-full. [We're all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride.] I actually agree with you there. (31:30)

The hell is wrong with you?! You don't just go around shooting people like that! (36:04)

Sam—

[Dean: She knows what your weakness is. It's me.] (03:32)

[Dean: You're okay, right? I mean, you're feeling okay?] Yes, I'm fine! Why are you always asking me that? (04:04)

No way! That's my division championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this! [Dean: It was probably the closest you ever came to being a boy.] (07:45)

4. SIN CITY

Dean—

[Casey: Lose something?] All you demons have such smart mouths. [It's a gift.] Yeah. Well, let's see if you're smiling when I send your ass back to Hell. [Without your little exorcism book? Hey, go ahead.] Spiritus immunde. Ungo— [Having a little trouble there, sport?] Spiritus immunde, undolara. Pasonitote.... [Nice try, but I think you just ordered a pizza. Guess you should've paid more attention in Latin class.] I don't know what you're smiling about. You're not going anywhere. [And, apparently, neither are you.] Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me, and uh, he did pay attention in class. (20:02)

[Casey: You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know.] Well. That's...flattering. I'll be sure to let Sam know when he gets here. (20:58)

So demons take over. I thought the meek shall inherit the earth. [Casey: Oh, according to your Bible. It's only a book, Dean.] Not everyone would agree. [Because it's God's book? Do you believe in God, Dean? I'd be surprised if you did.] I don't know. I'd like to. (24:59)

[Casey: You're alright, Dean. The others don't describe you that way. But, you know, you're...you're likable.] A demon likes me. Sorry, I don't know how to respond to that. (29:34)

[Casey: That deal you made to save Sam—a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don't.] It's been kind of liberating, actually. I mean, what's the point in worrying about a future when you don't have one, huh? [Still, a year to live. You're not scared?] No. [Not even a little?] Of course not. (29:50)

Sam—

Oh God. Uh. I'm sorry. That's—just—I think this was just a minor misunderstanding? yeah, okay, um. How 'bout I just—I just leave, 'cause—I'll take these—okay, I'll, uh, I'll leave this for, uh...you, uh...have a nice day? (17:20)

[Dean: Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me, and uh, he did pay attention in class.] [Casey: Oh, right, Sam. Everyone says he's the brains of the outfit.] [Everyone?] [Sure! You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know.] (20:46)

Yeah, I like being able to help people. [Father Gil: Ever think about doing anything else?] Like what? [Hm. Anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid. Somehow I see you out in front of the pack. You could do some great things.] I don't know. I like what I'm doing, I guess. [Well, it's your life. Does, um, Dean?] Yeah, Dean. [Does he find trouble often?] Yeah. Yeah, Dean finds his fair share. [Hm. Well, it's a good thing he has you. His brother's keeper.] (30:32)

[Ruby: You're gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage, but it has to be done.] Well, I don't have to like it. [No. You wouldn't be Sam if you did.] (39:24)

Misc—

Casey: You don't get it. All you gotta do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they'll walk right into hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, Dean. Weak. Our will's stronger. That's why we'll win. (23:55)

Casey: What, you think humans have an exclusive on a higher power? [Dean: You have a God?] Sure. His name's Lucifer. [You mean the Devil?] Your word, not ours. "Lucifer" actually means "light bringer." Look it up. Once he was the most beautiful of all God's angels. But God demanded that he bow down before man, and when he refused, God banished him. Tell me, Dean. How do you like bowing before lesser creatures? [Lucifer's really real?] Well, no one's actually seen him, but they say that he made us into what we are, and they say that he'll return. [Oh yeah? And, uh, you believe that?] I've got faith. [Hm.] So, you see? Is my kind really all that different than yours? [Well, except that, uh, demons are evil.] And humans are such a lovable bunch. (26:39)

Casey: [Hell] is a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here? (28:02)

Casey: Sam was supposed to be the grand poo-bah and lead the big army, but he hasn't exactly stepped up to the plate, has he? [Dean: Thank God for that.] Again with God. You think this is a good thing? Now you've got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown, most of them gunning for your brother. (32:22)

5. BEDTIME STORIES

Dean—

[Sam: I don't understand, Dean, why not?] Because I said so. [We got the Colt now.] Sam— [We can summon the crossroads demon—] We're not summoning anything. [—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!] We don't even know if that'll work! [Well then, we'll just shoot her! If she dies, the deal goes away!] We don't know if that will work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now are a bunch of "if's" and "maybe's," and that's not good enough! Because if we screw with this deal, you die! [And if we don't screw with it, you die!] Sam, enough! I'm not gonna have this conversation! [Why, because you said so?] Yes, because I said so! [Well, you're not Dad!] No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. You gotta let this go, you understand me? (03:46)

[Sam: Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?] (33:26)

Sam—

[Kyle: Those were my brothers. This guy, he killed my brothers. How would you feel?] Can't imagine anything worse. (06:34)

Look, Callie is killing people. She's angry. She's desperate because nobody will listen to her. So you have to listen to her. Please. Listen to your daughter. (29:28)

[Crossroads Demon: Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him.] Watch your mouth. [Admit it—you're here going through the motions, but truth is, you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.] Shut up. [No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally be free.] I said, shut up. [Huh. Doth protest too much, if you ask me.] (37:15)

6. RED SKY AT MORNING

Dean—

Somebody stole my car?! [Sam: Hey hey hey, calm down.] I am calmed down! Somebody stole my— *nearly has a heart attack* (08:15)

[Bela: He can't be saved in time, and you know it.] Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so we're gonna try. (12:39)

Hey, Bela, how did you get like this, huh? What, did Daddy not give you enough hugs or something? [Bela: I don't know. Your Daddy not give you enough? Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're no better than I am.] We help people. [Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer.] (12:57)

This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so— [Sam: We can crash anything, Dean.] Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining. (21:57)

I'm thinking. [Bela: Don't strain yourself. Interesting, how the legend is so much more than the man.] (23:12)

Screw you. [Bela: Very Oscar Wilde.] (24:32)

So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You're so damaged. [Bela: Takes one to know one.] (38:08)

Hey, listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um...I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon. You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind. I see what you're going through with this whole deal. Me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay. [Sam: You think so?] Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me. You are! You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am. (38:56)

[Sam: That's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you're dying.] (39:52)

Sam—

[Dean: It was a stupid friggin' risk, you shouldn't have done it.] I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother. No matter what you do, I'm gonna try to save you, and I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright? (04:32)

[Dean: Can I shoot her?] Not in public. (09:55)

[Dean: You can't save everybody, Sam.] Yeah, right. S—so, what? You feel better now or what? [No, not really.] Yeah, me neither. [You gotta under—] Just lately I feel like I can't save anybody. (16:24)

[Dean: I can't believe she got another one over on us.] You. [What?] I mean—I mean, she got one over on you, not us. [Thank you, Sam. Very helpful. (31:12)

[Dean: You're gonna be okay.] You think so? [Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me. You are! You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am.] You know what, Dean? Go screw yourself. [What?] I don't want an apology from you. And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself. [Oh, well, excuse me.] So would you please quit worrying about me? I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you're dying. (39:20)

Misc—

[Sam: What'd you do, Bela?] Bela: You wouldn't understand. No one did. Nevermind. I'll just do what I've always done. I'll deal with it myself. [Dean: You do realize you just sold the only thing that could save your life.] I'm aware. (34:01)

7. FRESH BLOOD

Dean—

[Sam: There you are!] Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice. [Nice move back there, Dean, running right at the weapons.] Well, what can I say? I'm a badass. (14:02)

I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it. [Sam: Well, Dean, you're not going by yourself. You're gonna get yourself killed!] Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office. [So what, you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh, wait. Let me guess. Because uh.... It's because you're already dead, right?] If the shoe fits. [You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your old, stupid kamikaze trip.] Whoa, whoa. Kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja. [That's not funny.] It's a little funny. [No, it's not.] What do you want me to do, Sam? Huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see. What rhymes with "Shut up, Sam"? [Dude. Drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.] I'm not. [You're lying! And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.] You got no idea what you're talking about. [Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out and you're still going to Hell and you're freaked.] And how do you know that? [Because I know you!] Really? [Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to since I was four, Dean—studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just....] What? [It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again, 'cause.... Just 'cause.] (28:16)

That's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes? (39:01)

Sam—

[Dean: And how do you know that?] Because I know you! [Really?] Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to since I was four, Dean—studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just.... [What?] It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again, 'cause.... Just 'cause. (29:17)

[Gordon: You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.] Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice. [I don't.] Yes, you do, Gordon. (34:03)

Misc—

Gordon: We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is, walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna! As soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds: killing you, and killing myself. (34:56)

8. A VERY SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS

Dean—

Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa. [Sam: Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember?] (04:57)

Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year. [Sam: Have one what?] A Christmas! [No, thanks.] No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston Market—just like when we were little. [Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know?] What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases! [Whose childhood are you talking about?] Oh, come on, Sam. [No! Just...no.] Alright, Grinch. (05:43)

[Sam: I'm old enough, Dean. You can tell me the truth.] You don't wanna know the truth. Believe me. [Is that why we never talk about...Mom?] Shut up! Don't you ever talk about Mom! Ever! (07:32)

Why are you the boy that hates Christmas? [Sam: Dean—] I mean, I admit it, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids. [Bumpy?] That was then! We'll do it right this year. (10:24)

Remember that wreath Dad brought home thy one year? [Sam: You mean the one he stole from like, a liquor store?] Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it. (18:30)

[Sam: Alright. Dude. What's going on with you?] What? [I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad?] Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic? [No, that has nothing to do with it.] Then what? [I mean, I just—I don't get it. I—you haven't talked about Christmas in years.] Well, yeah? This is my last year. (18:47)

We have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero. [Sam: He is?] Yeah. Monsters are real. Dad fights 'em. He's fighting them right now. [But Dad said the monsters under my bed weren't real.] That's 'cause he'd already checked under there. (21:20)

Sam—

[Dean: Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa.] Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember? (04:57)

[Dean: Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year.] Have one what? [A Christmas!] No, thanks. [No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston Market—just like when we were little.] Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know? [What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases!] Whose childhood are you talking about? [Oh, come on, Sam.] No! Just...no. (05:43)

Alright. Dude. What's going on with you? [Dean: What?] I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad? [Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?] No, that has nothing to do with it. [Then what?] I mean, I just—I don't get it. I—you haven't talked about Christmas in years. [Well, yeah? This is my last year.] I know. That's why I can't. [What do you mean?] I mean, I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead. I just can't. (18:47)

[Edward: You, mister, better show us a little respect.] Or what? You'll eat us? (29:29)

Here. Take this. [Dean: No. No, that's for Dad.] Dad lied to me. I want you to have it. [You sure?] I'm sure. (37:02)

9. MALLEUS MALEFICARUM

Dean—

I hate witches. They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. [Sam: Pretty much.] It's creepy, you know, it's downright unsanitary! (05:05)

[Ruby: Why are you even a part of this conversation?] Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank! [Oh, right, right! And you care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?] Shut up. [At least let me try and save him since you won't be here to do it anymore.] I said shut up! (19:22)

It tasted like ass. (24:36)

So all of them? Every damn demon, they were all human once? [Ruby: Everyone I've ever met.] Well, they sure don't act like it. [Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is: forgetting what you are.] Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks. [It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit, agonies you can't even imagine.] No, I saw Hellraiser. I get the gist. [Actually, they got that pretty close, except for all the custom leather. The answer is yes, by the way.] Sorry? [Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity. Every Hell-bound soul, everyone turns into someone else. Turns you into us, so yeah—yeah, you can count on it.] There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there? [No.] (35:42)

Sam—

They need to be stopped. [Dean: Stopped like, stopped? They're human, Sam.] They're murderers. (17:49)

[Dean: Are you feeling okay?] Why are you always asking me that? [Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people, you know. It used to eat you up inside.] Yeah? And what has that gotten me? [Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the freaking car and freaking argue about this stuff! You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap.] Wait, so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you? [No, I'm not mad! I'm—I'm...I'm worried, Sam, because you're not acting like yourself.] Yeah, you're right, I'm not! I don't have a choice! (20:45)

Look, Dean, you're leaving, right? And I gotta stay here in this crap hole of a world. Alone. So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change. [Change into what?] Into you. I got to be more like you. (21:25)

10. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

Dean—

Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat. [I'm serious, Dean.] No, you're drunk. [I mean, where you're going, what you're gonna become. I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you.] What I've been telling you. [No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you?] (03:16)

You gotta snap out of this now. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. I'm not gonna let you die, you're like a father to me. You gotta believe me, please! [Bobby: I'm breathing?] Yes! Now take control of it! (22:30)

Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now! (25:59)

Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun. [Nightmare Dean: We need to talk.] I get it, I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare. That it, huh? Kinda like the Superman III junkyard scene—a little mano y mano with myself? [Joke all you want, smartass, but you can't lie to me. I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside, how worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror, and hate what you see.] Sorry, pal. It's not gonna work. You're not real. [Sure I am. I'm you.] I don't think so. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers, and you go bye-bye. [I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you. Like I said, we need to talk.] (30:37)

[Nightmare Dean: I mean, you're going to Hell, and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem! Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now, is it?] Come on, Dean, come on, wake up. [I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.] That's not true. [No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car—that's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket—Dad's. Your music—Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is, is "Watch out for Sammy. Look after your brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell.] Just shut up. [I mean, think about it. All he ever did was train you, boss you around. But Sam—Sam, he doted on. Sam, he loved.] I mean it, I'm getting angry. [Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?] Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam—that was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He's the one who let Mom die! Who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! It wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me, and I don't deserve to go to Hell! (33:21)

[Nightmare Demon Dean: You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this? This is what you're gonna become! (35:32)

The thing is...I don't want to die. I don't want to go to Hell. [Sam: Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you.] Okay, good. (38:40)

Sam—

[Dean: There you are. What are you doing?] Having a drink. [It's 2:00 in the afternoon. Drinking whiskey?] I drink whiskey all the time.] No you don't. [What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars. You hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?] It's kinda slim pickings around here. What's going on with you?] (02:50)

I tried, Dean. [Dean: To do what?] To save you. [Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat.] I'm serious, Dean. [No, you're drunk.] I mean, where you're going, what you're gonna become. I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you. [What I've been telling you.] No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you? (03:16)

[Dean: The thing is...I don't want to die. I don't want to go to Hell.] Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you. (38:40)

Misc—

Jeremy: You know what that's like? Not to be able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for 15 years. [Sam: And let me guess. That's makes you go crazy.] I just want to be left alone. I just want to dream. (32:32)

11. MYSTERY SPOT

Dean—

[Sam: Twice now, I've watched you die. And I can't. I won't do it again, okay? And you're just gonna have to believe me. Please.] Alright. I still think you're nuts, but...okay. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out. (11:44)

Wait, did he.... [Sam: Yesterday, yeah.] And? [And what?] Did it look cool like in the movies? [You peed yourself.] Of course I peed myself. A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control of his bladder? Come on! (13:05)

Sam—

Twice now, I've watched you die. And I can't. I won't do it again, okay? And you're just gonna have to believe me. Please. (11:44)

[Gabriel: How long will it take you to realize you can't save your brother, no matter what?] (26:17)

[Bobby: Call me, Sam. We can find it together. No one man should take something like this on alone. You hear me?] (30:17)

[Bobby: I thought you'd back down from killing a man.] Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself. [I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill anyone—] It's none of your damn business what I do! (32:11)

[Gabriel: Let me tell ya. Whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands.] (34:50)

[Gabriel: Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish, Cro-Magnon skull of yours.] Lesson? What lesson? [This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it, too. He's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.] He's my brother. [Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him.] Please, just.... Please. [I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall.] (35:36)

Misc—

Gabriel!Bobby: You and Dean, you...you boys are the closest thing I have to family. (32:18)

12. JUS IN BELLO

Dean—

[Henriksen: Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place.] (08:20)

It's kind of wild, right? I mean, it's like they're coming right for us. They've never done that before. It's like we got a contract on us. Think it's because we're so awesome? I think it's 'cause we're so awesome. (16:37)

[Henriksen: Can you guys beat it? Can you win?] Honestly, I think the world's gonna end bloody. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'. [Plus you got nothing to go home to but your brother.] Yeah. (26:00)

[Ruby: This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.] I got virtue. [Nice try. You're not a virgin.] Nobody's a virgin! No. No way. You're kidding me, r—? You're— [Nancy: What? It's a choice, okay?] Wh— S—so you've never—not even once? I mean, not even.... Wow! (29:18)

Please tell me you're not actually considering this. We're talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart. [Sam: And we're also talking about 30 people out there, Dean—innocent people, who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here.] It doesn't mean that we throw away the rulebook and stop acting like humans. I'm not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl who hasn't even been laid. I mean, look, if that's how you win wars, then I don't want to win. [Then what? What do we do, Dean?] I got a plan. I'm not saying it's a good one, I'm not even saying that it'll work, but it sure as hell beats killing a virgin. (31:25)

Sam—

*Dean gets shot.* Alright, don't be such a wuss. (13:54)

[Dean: Who sent 'em?] [Ruby: You didn't tell Dean? Wow, I'm surprised.] [Tell me what?] [There's a big new up-and-comer. Real pied piper.] [Who is he?] [Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith.] [Lilith?] [And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick. Guess she sees him as competition.] [You knew about this? Well, gee, Sam, is there anything else I should know?] (27:32)

So you're just gonna leave? [Ruby: Hey! I was gonna kill myself to help you win. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lose. And I'm disappointed, because I tried. I really did. But clearly, I bet on the wrong horse.] (32:30)

13. GHOSTFACERS

Dean—

Alright, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean.... [Maggie: Um, I, uh.... Well, yeah. Uh, yeah, I think so.] Oh. (19:31)

[Sam: World just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers.] That's too bad. I kind of liked the show. [Had its moments.] (40:29)

Sam—

Yeah! I mean, it's bizarre how y'all are able to, uh, to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death. Well done. [Dean: Yeah, it's a real tight rope you're walking.] (38:56)

Well, um, our experience—you know what you get when you show the world the truth? [Dean: A straitjacket. Or a punch in the face. Sometimes both.] (39:08)

Misc—

Harry: Ed.... You gotta go be gay for that poor dead intern. You gotta send him into the light. (32:54)

Ed: Gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. (37:15)

14. LONG DISTANCE CALL

Dean—

[Sam: So you two were talking a case?] No, we were actually talking about our feelings and then our favorite boy bands. Yeah, we're talking a case! (04:22)

What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? [Sam: What do you mean?] What do I say? (15:28)

[John: Dean, how could you do it?] Do what? [Sell your soul.] I was looking after Sammy, like you told me to. [I never wanted this, never. You're my boy. I love you. I can't watch you go go Hell, Dean.] I'm sorry. I don't know how to stop it. (18:18)

The man is dead, and you're still butting heads with the guy! [Sam: That's not what this is about.] Then what is it? [The fact is, we got no hard proof here, Dean! After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!] Yeah! Well, maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay? (23:16)

I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way out of this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I'm just.... [Sam: Yeah.] I'm scared, Sam. I'm really scared. [I know.] I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, last act of a desperate man. [There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know?] Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know. And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me. [Sam: And me.] "And me?" [What?] Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you come back with? "And me?" [Do you want a poem?] Moment's gone. (38:07)

Sam—

[Dean: Wow, you know, you'd think a Stanford education and a high school hookup rate of 0.0 would produce better results than that.] Hilarious. (16:03)

There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know. [Dean: Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know? And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.] And me. ["And me?"] What? [Deep revelation, having a real moment here, and that's what you come back with? "And me?"] Do you want a poem? [Moment's gone.] (38:46)

15. TIME IS ON MY SIDE

Dean—

[Rufus: You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the gods, I'm telling you.] Yeah, it's a nice change, you know. Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug. (18:08)

[Rufus: I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you.] What makes you so sure? ['Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us, there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming.] (19:05)

[Rufus: You do her ear?] Hey, man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know, that sounds uncomfortable. (21:24)

[Bela: You're not the cold-blooded type.] You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my own parents. (28:20)

Look, this is simple. [Sam: Simple?] To me, it is, okay? Black or white—human, not human. (36:39)

Sam—

[Dean: Are you coming or not?] I'm staying here. [No, you're not. Because I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ-stealing freak.] You're not gonna let me? [No, I'm not gonna let you.] How are you gonna stop me? (15:12)

16. NO REST FOR THE WICKED

Dean—

[Bobby: Ain’t you just bringing down the room?] Well, it’s a gift. [Sam: I’m sorry, so then, what are we supposed to do, Dean?] Look, just ‘cause I gotta die doesn’t mean you have to, okay? We—either we go in smart, or we don’t go in at all. (05:01)

[Sam: Then give me another option, Dean. I mean, tell me what else!] [Bobby: Sam’s right—] No! Damn it! Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again. You guys want to save me, find something else. (05:42)

Oh, I knew you’d show up. ‘Cause I knew Sam wouldn’t listen! But you’re not gonna teach him anything. You understand me? Over my dead body. (10:29)

[Ruby: So you’re just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine! You deserve hell! And I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones. I wish I could be there to hear you scream!] And I wish you’d shut your piehole, but we don’t always get what we want. (12:25)

Sam, we are not gonna make the same mistake all over again. [Sam: You said that, but what does that even mean?] Don’t you see a pattern here? Dad’s deal, my deal, now this? I mean, every time one of us is—is up the creek, the other is begging to sell their soul. That’s all this is, man. Ruby’s just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it’s paved with, and you know where it’s going. (13:43)

Sammy, all I’m saying is that you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours. [Sam: You don’t mean that. We’re—we’re family.] I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too. I mean, what we’ll do for each other, you know, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us. [So, what, we just stop looking out for each other?] No, we stop being martyrs, man. We stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way, the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, uh…then we go down swinging. What do you think? [I think you totally should’ve been jamming “Eye of the Tiger” right there.] Oh, bite me. I totally rehearsed that speech, too. (14:39)

[Sam: You know, if this doesn’t, uh…. If this doesn’t go the way we want, I want you to know that—] No, no no no no no no. [No what?] You’re not gonna bust out the misty goodbye speech, okay? I mean, if this is my last day on Earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward. (19:54)

[Sam: I’m not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!] Yes, you are! Yes, you are. I’m sorry. I mean, this is all my fault. I know that. But what you’re doing, it’s not gonna save me. It’s only gonna kill you. [Then what am I supposed to do?] Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you. (32:36)

Sam—

We’re gonna get this done. I don’t care what it takes, Dean. You’re not gonna go to Hell. I’m not gonna let you. I swear. Everything’s gonna be okay. (03:21)

[Ruby: Sam, you’ve got some God-given talent. Well, not God-given, but you get the gist.] All that psychic crap? That’s gone ever since Yellow Eyes died. [Not gone. Dormant. And not just visions, either. Why do you think Lilith’s so scared of you?] Right. She’s scared of me. (09:06)

[Ruby: You don’t like being different. You hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes, like you’re some sort of sideshow freak.] (09:50)

What are you afraid’s gonna happen? This is me. I can handle it. And if it’ll save you— [Dean: Why even risk it?] Because you’re my brother. And because you did the same thing for me. [I know. And look how that turned out. All I’m saying…. Sammy, all I’m saying is that you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours.] You don’t mean that. We’re—we’re family. [I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too. I mean, what we’ll do for each other, you know, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us.] So, what, we just stop looking out for each other? [No, we stop being martyrs, man. We stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way, the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, uh…then we go down swinging. What do you think?] I think you totally should’ve been jamming “Eye of the Tiger” right there. (14:11)

There’s got to be something. There’s got to be some way. What—whatever it is, I’ll do it! Don’t—Dean! I’m not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean! (32:32)

Misc—

[Dean: This is about me and Sam, okay? This isn’t your fight.] Bobby: The hell it isn’t! Family don’t end with blood, boy. (18:50)

#thanks to those who reblogged 1 and 2 recently and reminded me that i needed to keep up with this lmfao <3 #season 4 will also be up soon #spn #ej.pdf #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn season 2 #spn season two #spn quotes

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