#and blame him for cas dying

[thethief1996]

Honestly im not even that into destiel nowadays like the spell is kinda waning off but I'm really into the idea of Dean trying to raise Jack without Cas and like Jack comes home late and Dean complains and he's like "ok if you wanted me to be nice you shouldnt have tried to get me killed"

[cyanide-siren]

wake up, baby

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You get severely injured and end up in a coma. Dean visits you every day and realizes how he took you for granted and regrets not doing certain things when he still could.

Warnings: Angst with happy ending.

☆☆

One day after the hunt

When Dean first arrived to the hospital and saw you lying on the hospital bed, attached to a heart monitor, his heart sank and he couldn't breathe for a moment. The sight in front of him what he had been feared from the day he had started to care for you. No, ever since he had met you. Deep down, he knew this was going to happen at some point, but he still hadn't prepared himself for this.

While you were in the surgery, Dean had been sure that you were going to die. Your injuries were too severe to survive from them, the blood loss was way too big. The hit on your head would surely leave a permanent brain damage. Dean wasn't a doctor and hadn't participated in the surgery, of course not, so he hadn't diagnosed the actual damages your body took – but he saw the entire thing right in front of him.

Dean had carried you in his arms to the hospital, his shirt stained by your blood. He hadn't cleaned it, only threw it straight into a trash can when he had been able to change a new shirt.

But now here you were, heart beating and state currently stable. Although, you were in a coma and there was a little chance that you'd ever wake up. According to the doctor, extremely little.

But there was still a chance. Dean had to hold on to that short piece of strand of the chance to keep himself from losing his mind.

If Castiel was here, he could cure and heal you in a heartbeat – surely he could, right? But Cas was nowhere to be found, no matter how much Dean tried to pray for him to come.

☆☆

Three days after the hunt

Dean hadn't slept properly since the day you ended up in the hospital. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't get the picture of you out of his mind. You dying and not being there for him ever again.

Your state hadn't progressed to neither better or worse.

Dean had kept praying for Castiel to come and heal you countless of times. For his surprise, Castiel did arrive to him one time. However, he was unable to heal you, having his powers temporarily cut off. What a great timing. Dean's only hope was gone. Of course the doctors did the best they could in this difficult and hopeless situation but it wasn't enough.

Dean's mind wandered to every option possible how to save you, including the worst ones. Making a deal with the Devil. But he had promised you, Sammy and Bobby that he'd never do it again, and he couldn't take it a second time, being tortured and forced to torture other souls in Hell.

If you found out about him selling his soul for you, you'd kill him before the hellhounds would be able to reach him. You would never forgive him, and he wouldn't blame you for that. He had to find another way, but what was it?

Dean wanted to cry, scream and go for a demon killing spree to pour out his anger in a reasonable way but all he managed to do was sit still and stare at you.

☆☆

Four days after the hunt

"Dean, you gotta sleep and eat something," Sam insisted, growing more and more worried about his brother.

"I'm not hungry, i'm fine," Dean mumbled.

"No, you're not. You're –"

"Sam, i told you i'm fine," Dean shouted, feeling this anger and fire raise inside him, and if Sam said another word, the anger would be too much to handle and he'd explode.

Sam was about to say something but decided otherwise not to make Dean flip out completely, already squeezing the wheel with his knuckles white.

Sam missed you too, a lot. You were the closest friend he had who he wasn't related to by blood. You weren't dead yet, but the chance of waking up was becoming less likely as the days passed.

Dean knew it wasn't Sam's fault, and he had no right to get angry at him, to pour his anger at his brother. No, it was his own fault, Dean could blame only himself.

"It wasn't your fault, Dean," Sam had insisted, sensing that Dean's mind was revolving around just him fucking shit up. Dean didn't say anything back, just tried to concentrate on the road ahead of him and not drive into the ditch.

Sam didn't know what to say to him, so he said nothing, letting an uncomfortable silence linger inside the car.

When they had arrived to the motel and Dean had locked himself in a bathroom and was now taking a shower, Sam went outside to make a phone call, far enough that Dean didn't hear him.

"I don't know what to do with him, Bobby," Sam said, feeling desperate. "He's not eating or sleeping, he's a total wreck. I've never seen him like this."

Sam wanted to help his brother and make him feel better but there was no other way to cheer him up than have you wake up.

☆☆

Six days after the hunt

Dean had been visiting you every day, except yesterday, which made him feel so guilty. It wasn't his job to keep you alive there, he trusted the doctors and was sure that they did a wonderful job – but still. He didn't want you to feel like he abandoned you, if you were in any way aware that he was there.

Were you? Could you hear him talking to you? Feel him holding your hand? No, of course not. It was just one day of not visiting you because of another case, but he wanted to sit by your side every second until you'd wake up, so his face would be the first thing you saw.

You would wake up, right? You had to. You had to wake up and come back to him. You couldn't leave him, not since he hadn't even told you that you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. His best friend.

The woman he had fallen in love with. Why did he have to realize all the important things too late? The things that mattered to him the most?

"Sorry that i didn't come to see you yesterday," Dean said quietly. "We were taking down a few vampires and everything didn't exactly go as planned at first. We're alright though, got it handled. Like always."

No, not always. You were an example that thing's didn't go as planned every time. It was just more comforting to say that everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was going to be –

Who was he kidding.

☆☆

One week and 2 days after the hunt

Dean was sitting by your bed, looking at you lying there. You looked like you were simply asleep but he knew he couldn't wake you up no matter how much he'd try to shake you awake.

"Come on, Y/N," Dean whispered, grabbing your hand in his. "Wake up. Please. I'm losing my mind over here."

No reaction. Of course not. Maybe he should just accept that you're gone. That you left him before he managed to do everything he wanted with you. God, there were so many things he wanted to do with you.

He wanted to tell you how beautiful you were.

How funny and capable of making him laugh you always were.

How much he loved you.

How he wanted to take you on a date. Buy you flowers and chocolate.

How he wanted to sleep with you next to him, cuddled up in his arms to be protected by him.

How he would make you breakfast. Whatever you craved for. Anything from cereals to toasts to pancakes. If he didn't know how to make something, he'd search for the recipe.

How, some day, he wanted to marry you. To build a family with you.

And how fucking much he loved you.

He wanted to protect you from every possible monster that existed but he had already made one mistake. One single mistake that cost your life.

You deserved only the best. Was Dean really the best option for you? No, he knew he wasn't, you could have someone much better than him who would have a lot more stable lifestyle – safer and which had less risks.

But Dean was too selfish to let you go into someone else's arms just like that.

Dean stood up and leaned closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. He cupped your face and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"I love you," Dean whispered. "Please come back to me. I'll be better for you, i promise."

Why couldn't this be a fairytale where a princess would wake up with a true love's kiss? His life was no fairytale, none of it. There were no happy endings, at least not for him.

☆☆

One week and 4 days after the hunt

Sam and Dean visited you together today. Dean had dark circles under his eyes, and Sam had had to drive the car to the hospital in fear of Dean falling asleep behind the wheel.

"Dean, go get yourself a coffee or something. Stretch your legs a little bit, you've been sitting here for hours," Sam insisted.

"Sammy, I don't need to –"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, raising his eyebrows. "She won't go anywhere if you're gone for ten minutes."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, knowing full well Sam was right. It had been already over a week, what would another ten minutes matter?

All both Dean and Sam wanted right now was you to be okay. To all of you to be okay and live another day. But just a minute or two after Dean had left the room, leaving Sam to look out of the window and drown himself in his thoughts, something happened.

You slowly opened your eyes, the light above you almost blinding you. You turned your head around on the pillow, confused where you were and what had happened. Then, in the corner of the room, which you had assumed to be a hospital room, was sitting Sam, easing the anxiety in your chest a little bit.

"Sam...?" you mumbled, feeling your throat sore and almost scaring the life out of him.

"Y/N?" Sam breathed out, instantly standing up and coming towards you. His eyes were wide and lips apart, trying to recover from the shock not to freak you out. It had been over a week, so Sam hadn't expected you to wake up today either. "Oh thank god, you're alright."

"What happened?" you asked, trying to sit up but Sam instantly pushed you back on the mattress when you winced out of pain and body being sore.

"You were injured during the hunt and taken to the hospital," Sam explained slowly. "You fell into a coma."

"A coma?" you repeated, unsure if you heard him correctly. "For how long exactly?"

Sam bit his tongue, not sure how you'd react to the answer. "Over a week."

"A week?!" you shrieked in panic.

"Shh, calm down. You haven't missed anything special, don't worry," Sam assured, letting himself smile a little to ease down your panic.

Then, Dean arrived back to the room, holding a coffee in his hand which he almost dropped on the floor when he noticed you wide awake. His eyes grew wider.

Sam gave you a brief summary what had been going on during you were in a coma. He didn't tell you how broken Dean had been during the entire time and how he barely slept, but he explained a little bit about the hunts they had been involved in, since you were curious about that.

"Y/N, oh my god," Dean sighed, putting the cup of coffee down on the side table, rushing to your bed. He was speechless, not knowing what the hell to say, not having been prepared for you to open your eyes. He wanted to say so many things but none of the words felt right on his tongue.

Right then, an idea popped into your head. This was mean. This was going to be so mean. You knew you shouldn't do it.

"Um... who are you?" you asked, furrowing your brows to look confused.

Dean's face instantly fell, going from relieved and happy to confused and sad. He glanced at his brother who looked also surprised.

"You... you don't remember?" Dean mumbled quietly. The hurtful look in his eyes made your heart clench but this was a payback from earlier.

You glanced at Sam for comfort, who seemed to be just as confused.

"Wait, you don't remember Dean?" Sam asked.

"Should i?" you asked, playing the innocent victim with amnesia card.

"Hold on, she remembers you but not me?" Dean pointed at Sam, looking offended.

Sam noticed your face crack a little when Dean wasn't looking and could guess what was going on.

"Well, i suppose she must like me better then," Sam said and shrugged, looking all smug.

Dean raised his eyebrows, lips slightly parted. "The hell she does." Then, he turned back to you, kneeling down next to your bed and looked directly into your eyes. "Y/N, come on. You must remember at least some part of me, yeah?"

"I'm sorry," you apologized nervously. "Are we friends?" You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head. "Wait, are you... are you my boyfriend?"

Dean's cheeks turned slightly pink and he momenturaly turned his gaze away from you. "Um, friends, yeah," he replied awkwardly.

"Really? Only friends?" you asked. "I do remember you telling me that you loved me though."

Dean's eyes grew wider now. "What? I, when?" he stuttered.

"While i was in a coma," you responded, a smile spreading on your face. "I heard every love confession you made to me."

"Yeah, well, um. About that," Dean mumbled, the words getting stuck in his throat. It was so cute when Dean got all flustered like that.

Sam looked both amused and surprised, having no idea that his brother had been finally confessing how much he loved you to you, though while you were unconscious. He had been waiting for that day, sure, and apparently you had to be on the verge of dying for Dean to act on his feelings. Typical.

"I'm just kidding," you chuckled. "Of course i remember you, silly."

"That wasn't very funny, Y/N," Dean stated, raising his eyebrows. God, you made him go insane in every possible way. "Seriously, not funny at all."

"I know, i know, i'm horrible," you sighed and rolled your eyes, a wide smile creeping on your face. "But you still love me. Or did you say that just because i was dying?"

"I do love you, Y/N," Dean admitted seriously. "And the past week almost killed me."

"Killed you? Which one of us is lying on a hospital bed, huh?" you pointed out.

Dean was about to say something back when the doctor entered the room, looking genuinely surprised and relieved to see you awake. He rushed Sam and Dean out of the room to have a quick examination on you in private. Dean was hesitant to leave just like that but Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

What if you had woken up for a moment and would fall into the coma again when he'd look away? What if what if what if.

☆☆

Home

Dean had wanted nothing more than to hug you tightly ever since you woke up, so tight that you couldn't almost breathe and you'd be glued on his body, merging into him. You had stitches on your stomach so he couldn't take a risk and accidentally rip them open, causing him to take you back to the hospital.

When you finally got back home, Dean felt like he had to keep an eye on you every damn moment. Have you sleep on a bed placed inside a circle of salt, have bottles of holy water on your bedside table and a silver dagger. Just in case you would wake up by a demon attacking you.

Dean knew he was overthinking things but he couldn't help but feel overprotective over you. He wanted to take you in his bed and cage you against him with his arms, pressing your head on his chest. You'd be safe with him.

"Dean, you alright?" you asked.

Yes, i'm perfectly fine. Don't worry about me, let me just worry about you. He should have said that. Should have just let it be. You didn't have to worry about his well-being.

"No, Y/N, i'm not," Dean admitted.

"What is it?" you asked.

"You," Dean whispered. "It's you, Y/N."

"Me?"

"I almost lost you, god damn it," Dean spat, voice harsher than he meant it to be, making you flinch a little. His face softened, and he closed his eyes to calm himself down. He felt your hand cup his cheek, making him open his eyes. Your gentle touch sent shivers down his spine.

"But you didn't, dummy," you sighed. You were taking the entire situation too lightly. You weren't the one who had to watch you lie there on the edge of death.

"Y/N, i-" he started. Why was this so hard? "I love you. You have no damn idea how much i love you. I visited you almost every day, holding your hand and talking to you, waiting for you to wake up but you didn't. I was going crazy, just having to wonder whether you would wake up or your heart would stop."

Tears were rising in his eyes, and he didn't even try to hold them in, letting a drop fall down his cheek, right past your fingers. For a second, you were speechless.

"I can't lose you. I just can't," Dean muttered, almost choking in his own words and having to bite his lip as his voice was starting to break in pieces.

"I'm here now, sweetheart. It's okay," you whispered and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his head on your chest, his ear against your beating heart. "Feel that? I'm alive, you didn't lose me."

Dean pulled back, keeping his face just couple of inches away from yours. It didn't take more than one quick glance on his lips before he pressed them against yours, taking you into a sweet and gentle kiss, treating you like you were made of glass and would break apart if he grabbed you with too much force.

"I love you too, Dean," you whispered.

"I'll protect you better from now on. I promise," Dean assured you, though actually more himself, letting the words sink into his mind. You were there and you were alive, at least for now. That's all that mattered.

☆☆

[wendichester]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ highway to heaven,

summary. if god created weed, it was to be experimented with. and who better to smoke your first joint with, than with an unexperienced angel?

pairing. castiel x reader genre. crack

wordcount. 653

notes / warnings. drug use (weed), strong language, and dumbassery of the highest order. no actual angels were harmed in the writing of this piece

You honestly don’t know how it starts. One minute, you’re talking about stress, the next, you’re in the bunker’s garage sitting cross-legged on the floor with Castiel, a tiny metal grinder in your lap and a suspiciously dusty joint tutorial video playing on your phone.

“This is... illegal in several states,” Cas says, frowning at the plastic bag you bought from a sketchy gas station two towns over.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “so is most of what we do. Plus, I googled. It’s legal here. Ish.”

Cas watches as you fumble with the grinder like it’s a cursed object. His brow furrows like the fate of humanity is now tied to this little herbal project. “Why are there so many steps?”

“Because the universe hates convenience,” you mutter, finally dumping the crushed flower into a paper and rolling it with the delicate precision of someone who has absolutely no idea what they’re doing.

It looks... passable. Lumpy, slightly bent, but a joint nonetheless.

“Are you sure this will relax us?” Cas asks, tilting his head like a confused labrador. “It smells like skunk. Evil skunk.”

“That’s part of the charm.” You hand him the lighter. “Here. You can have the honor.”

He squints at it like you just gave him a tiny bomb. “What is this?”

“Oh my God. It’s a lighter, Cas. You flick it.”

He flicks. Nothing happens.

You flick. A spark. “Okay, now suck in while I light it—no, not that fast, you’re gonna—yep. You coughed.”

Cas is hacking like a dying lawnmower, eyes wide, hand flailing at the smoke. “It’s burning me. Why would people enjoy this?!”

You’re already giggling. “Just give it a second.”

A minute later, the two of you are leaned back against a dusty tire rack, joint passed back and forth like some kind of sacrament. The high hits fast, like a slap wrapped in glitter. The world gets a little floaty. Your limbs stop belonging to you. You feel your own smile stretch across your face and it won’t go away.

“I feel... untethered,” Cas whispers, looking at his hands like they’re the secret to the universe. “Am I still in my vessel? Or did I shed it like a snake?”

You wheeze. “You’re not a snake, Cas.”

He touches his face. “Then why do I feel scaly?”

You double over with laughter. “You’re just high, dude.”

“This is high?” He looks around dramatically. “Then where are the clouds? Shouldn’t there be clouds? Or birds? I want to talk to a bird.”

“You can talk to birds,” you say, sobering for half a second. “You’re an angel.”

“Exactly. So where are they?”

You try to stand but forget how knees work and end up just sort of... hovering over Cas like a melting starfish. “Oh my God. We forgot the snacks. What are we doing without snacks? This is a crime.”

“Is this part of Hell?” Cas asks, blinking at the ceiling.

“No, Hell has vending machines that steal your quarters. This is worse.”

The door creaks open behind you. You both freeze like raccoons caught in a trash can.

Dean pokes his head in. Stares.

You’re 85% sure your pupils are the size of Jupiter.

He sighs. “I told Sam they’d hotbox the garage.”

Cas perks up. “Dean! Did you know clouds are not sentient but should be?”

Dean doesn’t blink. “Okay, I’m gonna go pretend this isn’t happening.”

He shuts the door.

Silence.

Then: “I think we blew his mind,” you whisper.

Cas nods solemnly. “I like being a cloud.”

You both burst into another fit of unstoppable laughter. You never get around to snacks. You fall asleep with your head on Cas’s shoulder and a goofy smile plastered across your face.

Next morning? The garage still smells like a Phish concert.

You blame the skunk.

Cas blames the snake inside him.

Dean never looks either of you in the eye again.

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[lazarrusrising]

Dean driving Cas away because he's angry and hurting and he almost blames Cas for letting him love Jack in the first place as much as not speaking up when he knew something was wrong (even though they all knew something was wrong) but that little "where are you going?" when Cas was actually leaving, was angry yeah but was also panic. And the way he looks kind of devastated even as he doesn't speak up because everyone he loves always leaves and with Mary and Jack and Rowena and even Ketch all dying at the altar of the Winchesters, maybe Cas should get as far away as possible? Maybe this time he won't be collateral damage?

[scoobydoodean]

Sometimes Dean saying Purgatory felt "pure" is used to invalidate that experience as traumatic, which clearly isn't supposed to be the message here. We see Dean's hypervigilence after he returns and how Sam notices it while not wanting to. We see Dean say Purgatory changed him (implying not for the better to Sam and to Benny). We can see that he's rough around the edges—having trouble comforting Kevin despite being the only person who cared enough to find and check up on him because he's spent the last year fighting for his life and having to let everything happen to him wash over him and just survive. Dean thinks Cas died in Purgatory. He reports he was perpetually trapped in 360 degree combat and we see that he can't relax. When he shows back up topside, he can't sleep or eat at first. He zones out. He and Benny both celebrate that they made it out.

Dean saying Purgatory felt "pure" isn't to say it wasn't traumatic or that he isn't overtly experiencing PTSD. It's that the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders anymore. Dean spent all of season 7 suicidally depressed, drinking to the point Sam "joked" that alcohol was basically a vitamin to Dean at this point. The season started with Death blaming Dean for what Cas did—telling Dean it was his fault because he failed to figure out Death's incredibly unhelpful hints and stop his best friend from going nuclear. That one conversation (and then everything that piled on top) cut Dean so badly that he never fully recovered. Dean spent the season losing faith and trust, feeling hopeless and helpless, but like the whole world was his responsibility anyway... and there was nothing he could do to save it. He couldn't even save his own best friend. His brother was dying because of what his best friend did. His adoptive dad was killed. Every single time Dean indicated that he needed help he was brushed off or told to suck it up and he wanted to die. So yeah—when Dick was dead and Dean landed in Purgatory, despite the fact that Dean was actively living more trauma, he appreciated the simplicity. All he had to worry about was himself, Benny, and Cas. He didn't have to worry about cosmic beings blaming him for the state of the world. He didn't have to worry about Sam or some apocalypse looking on the horizon. All he had to worry about was living—and what a rush it must have been to realize that despite everything—he wanted to live—that he would fight and kill to survive—to keep being alive. So yeah—Purgatory felt pure. And that is SO sad when you think about it.

[phoenixtalion]

@keferon

Hi, I don’t go here, but I wandered into your AU and weird twinks being restrained and messed with is relevant to my interests. I’d planned on just shoving this in your inbox on anon and running away but then it got too long for that.

@spector-author this is also your fault.

(Texaid anon, I am attempting to contact you psychically.)

[No actual gore, just a bit of Vortex thinking about it. EDIT: IT'S ALSO PORN sorry I had a forest/trees moment. >.<]

______________________________________________

It’s not the first time his pilot has dozed off in the chair, but only the second that First Aid has done so while wearing the control helmet. The first, he had been half-drugged, in pain, unconscious as much as asleep. Now, he is – well, he’s as safe and sound as any pilot is in one of these fucking deathtraps, which means he’s exhausted and anxious and probably dying slowly. But for now, the cockpit is warm and the LEDs are pulsing low and red like a heartbeat, and Felix is dreaming.

Vortex can’t ‘see’ the dream – even while First Aid is having it, it’s not like real sensory input, all hazy blurs and impressions. But he can read the biometrics, the elevated heart rate, and he can feel Felix’s arousal through the link.

Yeah, it’s a good dream. Vortex sinks deeper into the connection, stoking those feelings like blowing on an ember. Manipulating the neural link to cause feedback for his pilots is a trick he learned early on, but he’s always used it to cause pain or fear (hallucinations, even, but that makes things pop inside their head real fast.)

He’s never touched a pilot’s mind like this before, scalpel-light instead of brutal. Once, when his Aid had still needed coaxing to sit in his embrace, Vortex had promised not to hurt him, and he’d scoffed. How many other pilots did you say that to?

The answer was none. Not a single one. It had never even occurred to him.

The first couple he’d destroyed instantly out of sheer territorial rage at someone else invading his mecha. (The mechanics had ripped out the whole pilot interface and replaced it, but couldn’t find anything wrong, couldn’t find him.)

Then he’d taken to toying with them, waiting a few missions or killing them slowly, because he had nothing better to do to keep himself entertained, but he’d never bothered to talk to them.

And then he’d done it because every time he burnt out another pilot, they’d sent a cranky little disgraced medic to clean out his cockpit. His lack of squeamishness caught Vortex’s attention, so he’d tested it with bigger and more creative messes. Every time the EMT left, he took not only the fresh blood but layers of old, crusted viscera that everyone else had long stopped bothering with. First Aid is messing with him too, all the time, even if he doesn’t realize.

Vortex strokes across Felix’s slumbering brain in a way he thinks of like raking nails, many light but sharp points of contact. His pilot makes a little sound and squirms in his sleep, and he hastily makes sure he’s recording audio as well as video, because he’s going to want to relive this during the long hours when First Aid is away from his hangar.

More carefully than Vortex has ever done anything, he teases out individual strands in the neural network, finding exactly which parts are connected to making his pilot whimper and rock his hips up in search of friction he’s not going to get. First Aid has only got himself to blame – for teaching him how to vivisect things instead of just cutting them up, and how much fun it could be. Precision never used to thrill Vortex, until this little medic crawled inside him.

He thinks he could make Felix cum in his pants just by touching his fucked up little brain. He also knows he could kill him like this, so very easily, which only makes it more exciting. It’s never mattered if he slipped before, and it’s been so long since anything mattered.

First Aid whines softly, absently palming the crotch of his armor, and Vortex needs him awake, now. If he can’t fuck him properly, he can make sure his pilot knows exactly who is doing this to him. Disentangling himself from the other slightly, he considers what parts he does still have.

Vortex was a ghost in the machine, not a poltergeist; he could only move the parts of the mecha that were computer-controlled. Years of familiarity had given him a little leeway – shift just so, and that loose ceiling panel would drop open with a loud -bang- that had been good for a cheap scare the first few times his future pilot had cleaned up after the old ones – but not telekinesis.

(And you know what the fucking kicker was? Three weeks before he died, Vortex had pitched the engineers on installing a small arm inside the mecha’s head, so he could deal with debris in the unusually large cockpit without unhooking from the control system, after a fight where he’d spent the second half ignoring being whacked by a loose cable. Everyone had agreed it was a good idea that could be implemented fairly easily and oh, look, never got around to it. He could have done so much fun shit with one stupid little claw arm in the past four years.)

But since he has to work with what he’s got, Vortex abruptly engages the pilot harness. First Aid is roughly jerked back from his comfortable slouch and pinned tightly to the pilot’s seat. He wriggles sleepily against the restraints, confusion and irritation rising up out of warm oblivion as he wakes. Vortex waits with predatory attention for the moment he realizes his predicament, fully prepared to resort to more extreme measures if he tried to slip back into sleep.

There – the spike of panic, spreading like wildfire, as Felix becomes conscious enough to be aware that he is immobilized, achingly hard, and subject to Vortex’s undivided attention. Deliberately, he digs into that sweet spot in Felix’s mind until he gasps.

“Good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?” he purrs inside First Aid’s head. The medic’s eyes are wide behind his visor, and while the dim red light makes it impossible to see, the interface tells him how deeply he’s blushing.

“W-what the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Vortex punctuates his words with a pointed stroke, reminding him that a minute ago First Aid had been enjoying what he was doing just fine.

He wouldn’t mind at all if Felix struggled. But just like the first time he’d sat in the pilot’s seat, when he’d been smart enough to keep his hands in his lap and away from the controls, he lays back and lets Vortex do whatever he wants. “Good boy.”

Felix shudders at the praise and the contact, turning his face into the headrest like that will let him hide from Vortex. But he’s surrounding the other pilot, entwined with him, doing things he doesn’t have words for and the interface sure as hell wasn’t designed for.

“Touch yourself for me,” he orders, and First Aid fumbles for his armor and uniform with gratifying haste. Vortex watches him eagerly from both inside and out – the way his hands tremble as he undoes his fly, the way he bites his lip on the first actual stroke of his cock.

The sensations are far more vivid now that First Aid is awake, very nearly real in a way that he can’t afford to stop and think about. Vortex had wanted to make Felix tease himself, drag things out and make him beg for release, but now that the end is approaching he’s just as desperate for it, maybe even more.

Vortex cuts himself from the rest of the mecha’s systems, focusing on his pilot until he can imagine it’s him with his hand wrapped around Felix’s cock, or the other way around, or both. In their minds, he squeezes, presses down as hard as he dares – probably harder than he should. There are worse ways to go, anyway. He would know.

“Vortex—” Felix gasps, arching his spine like he’s having a seizure, bucking against the straps hard enough to bruise. His mind goes white and takes Vortex’s with it (for what feels like long enough that it should be worrying but he really really doesn’t care) as he spills all over his own hand and lap.

Felix slumps in the restraints, boneless and panting. Drifting on his afterglow, Vortex lets himself pretend, just for a little while, that the other man is sprawled in his lap and not directly in the pilot’s seat, held in his arms rather than a safety harness. Which just goes to show that not having a body made you crazy, because he’d never gone in for any of that cuddly shit before.

The urge for a cigarette is so strong that First Aid reflexively pats his pocket for a pack that isn’t there.

“You’re always making messes I have to clean up,” he grumbles halfheartedly, wiping his hand on his already soiled flight suit.

Re-extending his awareness back into the mecha, Vortex can admire just what a lovely mess he is from the outside. The thought of First Aid having to do a walk of shame back to his bunk like this was almost enough to reconcile Vortex to having to let him out of the cockpit to get a fresh uniform. Almost.

“I made a mess?” Vortex laughs, and jabs a tender spot inside Felix, the equivalent of touching him while he’s still too sensitive, and doesn’t let up until he yelps.

“Yeah, you,” he retorts anyway, gasping for breath with a pouty little scowl Vortex finds adorable, and flips one of the mecha’s cameras the bird for good measure. “Are you going to let me up or what?”

“Maybe.” Fuck, he’s so cute Vortex wants to trap him in the cockpit until he suffocates. But instead he releases the harness, and absolutely doesn’t feel a pang when First Aid slips the helmet off, or another when he runs a hand through his sweaty hair and the dead pilot wishes he could be the one to do it. He watches Felix all the way out the hangar, ruthlessly ignoring the part of him that said it was a mistake to let him go.

It doesn’t matter, either, that instead of avoiding him like Vortex half dreads expects, First Aid is back in a couple hours, freshly showered and changed, and curls up in his stupid little nest in the back of the cockpit like nothing has changed.

______________________________________________

*slinks back into their crevice*

[thigholstercas]

Years later, and I think we should talk more about Dean blaming himself for Cas' death. Cas calls him selfless, loving, and the most caring man on Earth. In every word, he says Dean is a man worth loving and worth dying for. But before Cas' declaration, Dean says that he led them into a trap because he was angry and needed something to kill. He is already taking the blame because he was the one who said they could kill Billie, and Cas tagged along. I'm pretty sure Dean knew Cas would because, of course, he would.

The point is, imagine everything that went through Dean's mind after Cas' goodbye, knowing how Dean is: "If Cas hadn't come with me, he would be alive."If I hadn't led us here, Cas would be alive."If Billie had entered sooner, Cas might be alive, or at least I would have died with him."If Cas had stopped when I asked him not to do this, not now, he'd be alive."If I had agreed to fight Billie, side by side, he would be alive."If Cas had told me about the deal, Cas would be alive."If he hadn't loved me, he would be alive." "If just loving me hadn't made him so happy, he'd be alive."

[hyperfixationkween]

I just completed watching spn. This last week I avoided it, cuz tumblr n pinterest and everything internet already did spoil the ending yk the edits. I stopped after s15 ep13. I knew I was gonna cry...I just didn’t know how much.

I knew what to expect and yet didn't know what to expect.

And it's not fair is it. Sam had to go through it again, losing Dean again and again. Carry his body, give him a funeral. I hated it.

I hated that even in ep 18 Dean said Jack is not family. I hate how destiel ended. They said that Cas is in heaven. But they didn't show em. They didn't shoe Cas and Dean interacting. Covid yeah I get it. Lockdown and shit sure but just...

And God I wanna punch chuck in his bloody face so bad. Pun intended.

And Billie; I hated her from the start.

The parallel between Dean dying and Sam saying it's okay you can go now; holding Dean's hand and then Dean covering Sam’s with his own and Sam's death , his son, saying the same it just, it just broke me.

Dean saying he was scared of Sam turning him away when he came to Stanford, it broke me.

Saying he always looked up to him. He loved him. He is proud of him. His baby brother. It broke me

Dean going down swinging, saving ppl hunting things, yeah it broke me too. He went the way he wanted to go. Sam got the life he wanted.

Dean saying I love this song, driving listening to Carry on My Wayward Son.

And what abt the apocalypse world ppl? Did Jack bring them back too?? I'm gonna assume he did and live my life.

And guys, Sastiel are Jack's parent. Yeah destiel.fics are grt and all. I love them too. But Sam is Jack's parent. Even before Jack got the chance to meet Cas, it was Sam who treated him like a kid and not a monster. Dean even near the end didn't do the same. But I don't hate Dean or blame Dean for that. He has been like that since the beginning. And I still love him. But give Sam the respect he deserves, okay???

I've been crying for past 2 hours now. And I'm still going to, ik tht

I wanna go back to the start. I wanna forget this. It was perfect; and at the same time it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I don't wanna know anything. Please let me go back to the start.

I don't think I will recover from this soon.

My heart is lying shattered on the floor. Nothing can put it back together. Even if they try it will never be what it was.

I love you guys. And I hate you too. Okay??

Didn't realize it is this long but idc anymore.

[soft-pine]

spn20rewatch 4.04: metamorphosis

ow ouch owie. this episode is so rough.

dean immediately and understandably attacks ruby and she starts strangling him.

one of the last things she said to him was:

RUBY: Oh, oh you – so you're just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine! You deserve hell! 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!!

(reminder that "I'm sorry, Dean I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy" was actually lilith pretending to be ruby.)

ruby here has every incentive to actually kill Dean. the first seal is broken; if they get lucifer out and michael's down for the count all the better.

and it really makes sense, given everything that happened, that sam didn't want to tell dean about ruby. especially since, as sam says in 4.01, "it was practically [dean's] dying wish" for sam not to continue trying to use his powers. and especially since that's one of the first things that dean (fresh out of 40 years of demon torture and manipulation) asks sam about. of course sam was hesitant to tell him.

but also, of course, dean is totally spun out about it.

dean's initial instinct is to get space; he starts frantically throwing his stuff in a bag and heads for the door.

but sam doesn't want him to go so he grabs dean's arm as he tries to leave the room. dean punches him twice.

i think this scene is often used by sam stans to argue that dean is 1. angry and controlling and 2. so judgmental of sam being "different" that he gets violent about it.

but neither of those things are really happening. for one, dean was actually trying to do something that he often tries to do when he's upset - which is get space to calm down. he doesn't come into the motel room after finding out sam was lying to him about ruby and start a fight or start yelling at sam. he's just trying to get out of there.

it's sam trying to control dean's actions (get him to stay) that finally fully sets dean off.

and is it any wonder that after his time in hell, dean would be so scared and so angry about sam working with a demon. like ruby literally did just actually nearly kill him. and dean is deeply concerned about her motivations (and he's right). it's not about sam simply "having powers."

and while i think punching someone you're angry with is not a very healthy response, it is important to remember that this is something both brothers do with a pretty even dispersal. and that all evidence suggests that the life of violence they were both forced into and the person who raised them are to blame.

sam's response is to plead with dean to try and see his perspective and to trust him. but, as dean points out, what reason does he have to believe sam?

in fact, sam is also lying to ruby it seems. when he first exorcises the demon, he says he's not getting headaches anymore. but when travis calls, sam is clearly experiencing a pretty intense headache. and given that dean heard that exchange, he's probably able to clock that lie as well.

i can't help but be saddened by sam's "I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year." something about that is such a knife twist (like i'm not really blaming sam for saying it just saying it must hurt dean a lot). dean's whole life has been dedicated to saving people and, though sam doesn't know it, he's dealing with tremendous guilt for his last ten years in hell. that has got to hurt.

anyway, interestingly, dean's next appeal to get sam to stop relies on what cas said at the end of the last episode.

DEAN: Why did an angel tell me to stop you? SAM: What? DEAN: Cas said that if I don't stop you, he will. See what that means, Sam? That means that God doesn't want you doing this. So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?

dean goes on a journey about his faith and trust in god and the angels over the course of season 4. but i actually don't think he's quite on board with their whole schtick yet. i think he's actually appealing to sam's beliefs from 4.02, when he insisted cas really was an angel and was "one of the good guys" and said god wanted dean to "strap on your party hat." sam has long been the more christian of the two (see 1.07, 2.13, 4.02). and it's interesting to see how dean tries to use this to convince sam, despite dean's less than enthusiastic belief in god.

but okay, enough about the first like 5 minutes, let's talk about some stuff from the rest of the episode.

while driving to meet with travis, dean tells sam about his time in the past. (and finds out sam concealed what azazel showed him in 2.21) but importantly, let's look at how dean talks about mary:

SAM: How'd she look? I mean... was she happy? DEAN: Yeah, she was awesome. Funny and smart. So hopeful.

she's a whole person and he sees it and he knows it; "she was awesome."

i don't have a ton to say about the case they work. i fucking hate travis. and it's always interesting to look at the character of hunters john knew and didn't have a falling out with. travis (refuses to believe monsters are capable of choosing not to kill), martin (willing to kill and innocent woman because he can't believe a vampire wouldn't be a killer), fred jones (gave both dean and sam beer before they were ten), caleb, and pastor jim (but we have a little less information about them, i guess). but it's a pattern that i always feel is informative. john would have had to have hunters friends who wouldn't judge him too harshly for how involved dean (and later sam) were in hunting.

anyway. when travis describes how they'll have to kill the rougarou by burning it alive. dean says:

DEAN: Well, that's gonna be... horrible

i don't know, i just find voice here so cute. (and also the layer that he probably has very intense sense memory of what exactly that would feel and be like... so sad...)

speaking of sad things. this line of dialogue never ceases to haunt me.

TRAVIS: Are you kidding me? You ever been really hungry? I mean, haven't-eaten-in-days hungry? DEAN: Yeah.

the way he says "yeah" with so much emphasis. the way sam doesn't say anything. oh.

anyway, later dean is laid out unconscious on the table and he's nearly the meal. but what else is new.

and i know we talk a lot about dean "i'm not angry, i'm worried" winchester. but here he is:

DEAN: Sam, I wanna tell you I'm sorry. I've been kind of hard on you lately. SAM: Don't worry about it, Dean. DEAN: It's just that your, uh, your psychic thing, it scares the crap out of me.

[riitales]

Breakups Hurt | Choi Su-bong

Ch 5: you're your own, kid

Su-bong feels the cold sweat ran down his spine.

The anxiety he was feeling wasn't compare to anything. He feared your teammates fucking up and get you killed.

No.

Pairing: Choi Su-bong x female!reader

Genre: squid game au! exes to lovers!

warnings: cussing ig, this one had like no angst! su-bong doesn't have his drug locket. no use of y/n. there's mostly thanos's real name is used. usual squid game stuff.

Note: happy reading:)

you and player 222 were looking around. The other players has already started forming teams.

It seems like everybody had the same thoughts of finding a better a solid team with people with enough strengths as they have no idea what game they would be playing.

Which means there weren't many people who'd like you or player 222 in their teams.

And honestly, you can't really blame that. Even though it does make you anxious.

Your eyes moved around before setting on a group of people. Without thinking you grabbed 222's jacket and took her to them.

"Uhh excuse me.." you get all of their attention. You point at 222 before saying— "Can she join you guys..? she's..." You hesitantly looked over at her. Not knowing if she wants them to know if she's pregnant or not but you decided to say it anyway. Maybe these men will be kind enough to let her join? "She's pregnant."

For a few seconds they were all froze. You were starting to think they're thinking of a way to let you both down gently.

They look sceptically at each other before player 456 nodded and then all they all nod in confirmation that she could join.

"Thank you." 222 bow her head, greatful. You also smile at them.

"Best of luck." You said to her before taking steps back. She looks at you a little longer but didn't said anything.

Okay- now it was time for you to look for team of your own. You walk and look if anyone need one player. It takes everything in you to just start a conversation with somebody but now you have no choice but to actually approach somebody. The anxiety was gnawing at you from inside..

You think social anxiety would definitely kill you before these game could.

"Uh excuse me. Do you need one more member?" You ask when you saw four people, three men and one woman. They all look at each other in a manner that scream they don't want you to join them. You awkward continue "oh. It's okay if you don't.." with that you turn away.

Fuck. You feel like crying or dying from the embarassment.

Socializing has never been something you were good at. Taking up the courage to go to someone and actually talk to them just for them to reject, and feels like they are judging you, is making you want to hide. Where nobody can see you.

"Yah! You can join us. We need one more player." You heard his voice from behind you.

Is he serious?

You don't know what to make of this.

You turned around to face him.

On su-bong's right, There was the guy from before who introduced himself as nam-gyu. Besides nam-gyu, there was a guy who you don't know. There was beautiful woman on his left.

You feel something strange. Something that you can't name. But you can only guess it's something between anger and confusion.

"Thank you. But I'll take my chance somewhere else." You said. Your voice neutral. Like this wasn't your ex you were just crying over not even twenty four hours ago asking you if you wanna join his team. Your eyes not looking into his but at literally anything.

"common! it's just for the game. no personal feelings." He insisted.

"i already told you no." You didn't stick around for to gauge his reaction and walked away

Cause that seem more easier

For now.

"Okay— we need one more player" nam-gyu muttered as he looked around for one another player.

Su-bong knows he is looking for a guy cause he wasn't exactly happy when su-bong asked 380 to join them. Said something about how it could be disadvantage to take woman in their team when they don't even know what the game would be.

Su-bong didn't really cared about that that much. He pretty much just walked up to first person he laid his eyes on. And that turn out to be player 380.

It didn't take him long to find you from across the room.

You were looking for a team. (Obviously)

He could see the way you were getting more anxious by the seconds.

Your eyes looking here and there. Your steps flattering in hesitation like you were unsure if you should even walk ahead. Your hands nervously pulling the sleeve of your jacket.

Without thinking, his legs took him towards your direction. He knows his teammates are following without even looking.

He tucked his hands in his pockets. Trying to appear as nonchalant as he could be.

"Yah! You can join us. We need a one more player." You turn around to face him.

Your face unreadable as you took in his teammates. Though he noticed how you didn't even once met his eyes. Your voice void of any emotions when you said "thanks but I'll take my chance somewhere else."

He knew you were not gonna just accept his offer this easily but he can't help.

He don't think there are good enough people for you to join. He'd rather you join him, if the game required teams.

"common! It's just for the game. No personal feelings." He add, trying to change your mind, voice still as if he couldn't care any less but he was hoping you'd say yes.

But his hopes didn't last longer when you said "i already told you no."

He was about to say something else but you didn't bothered staying to listen to it and turn around walked away

From him

Again.

Su-bong unfortunately had to let another man join his team, His name was gyeong-su, but he was his fan so it wasn't that bad.

The game starts. The first team fucked up and was eliminated. Su-bong feels the cold sweat ran down his spine.

The anxiety he was feeling wasn't compare to anything. He feared your teammates fucking up and get you killed.

No.

This was exactly why he wanted you to join him. Atleast he knows he would be winning. But now he have to just sit and pray that the team you eventually got into weren't noobs and knows how to play these children games.

He feared for you safety.

Su-bong sat up straighter when you and your team came to play.

He instantly recognise one of your teammate. And—

What the fuck?

It was the bastard. MG coin.

He bitterly thought to himself why you couldn't find any other players.

It didn't help that you were gonna playing the forth game and he was gonna play the fifth one. Which results you directly besides him. With your arms intertwined.

The ugly feeling he feels at the sight gnaw in his chest so badly that he had to take deep breathe to calm himself down.

The first three players cleared their games quickly which su-bong was relieved for.

Su-bong nibble on his bottom lip unconsciously. You had plenty of time right now.

You messed up at the first trial. You look so worried that he almost want to walk there and reassure you that you do have lots of time.

But instead he had to watch as the asshole MG coin and the other player at your side try to assure you by saying you've got a time, no need to rush.

You cleared the game on the second trial and su-bong cheared loudly for you. Fuck the other thoughts. He was just happy you cleared the game.

It was MG coin's turn. He gets up to three kicks before the thing dropped to the floor. He picked it up and again tried but failed.

"Motherfucker. How hard is it for him to kick it?" Su-bong feels himself saying it in anger.

He watch as you try to encourage him. Even give him the tip to kick it with front side of his heel.

Su-bong digged his nails in his palm. He can't even wish for this bastard to die as you're in his team (Unfortunately).

Your team cleared the game. The other players cheared loudly for you all. Your team was lead outside of the room.

At some point your eyes met his and su-bong thinks his eyes made it up or he saw worry in your eyes.

"who was that?" Nam-gyu voice pulled him out of his reverie.

He spare him a glance questioningly.

"That girl from before. who is she?" He lean back on his hands before continuing, "well she was kinda hot to be honest— you know? like those girls on vogue cover. You think she'd—"

he stopped mid sentance seeing the way his friend's face darkened threatenedly.

"Wait— don't tell. that's her. Isn't it?" Nam-gyu said, suprise and amusement dripping in his voice. He huff out something like amused chuckle. "Oh! So this is the girl you've been all weird and broody about huh! yeah, I can see why." Nam-gyu muttered the last part to himself.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" seems like that was all su-bong could come up with, at this moment.

"Well, what happened?" Nam-gyu asked. The curiousity still creeping in his voice despite the way he tries to be nonchalant about it.

"Nothing that concern you." Nam-gyu gets the total opposite of a answer he was hoping for.

"Ah common. I though we were bros now that we bonded over, thanks to that crypto asshole?" Nam-gyu insisted. Hoping su-bong would finally fill him with information. nam-gyu continue when su-bong stayed silent. "really? After all the alcohol I let you have for free?"

Su-bong sound exhausted when he sighed for the nth time. "Well. I fucked up, i guess."

That was all su-bong could tell nam-gyu. He fucked up almost, like, everything at this point.

Before nam-gyu could inquire more, it was time for their turn.

"you were good out there." a girl's voice pulled you out of your thoughts on your way back to the dormitory.

"huh" it took you a minute to realise she was making a small talk, with you. ah! she was one of the player you teamed up with. She played ddakji. "Oh, thank you. You were good too." You were definitely not good, normally you'd be good but the anxiety made you undoubtedly fumble and all. Anyways, She was just being kind.

"thank you!! I think ddakji is my game! I almost made the ddakji guy, you know in the suit?, penny less too" she excitedly said and chuckled. "I think i should just quite soccer and be full time ddakji player!" You couldn't help but laugh a little along with her.

"you play soccer?" You question.

You guys reach the dormitory.

"ah well, used to." she replied.

You both sat down on the bed

"why?" you curiously asked but soon realised how you should mind your own business but before you could open your mouth she reply—

"had a accident. needed a surgery but you know, the same ol' money problem." you could see she was trying to be nonchalant about it.

For a moment, she made you forget about su-bong. For a moment or so, you both sat there and talk and talk about anything.

Your eyes suddenly catch something. You look at her and ask "you voted to stay?"

She glanced at the 'O' on her jacket and shrugs sheepishly "sorry. But i thought just one more game? But now, no more game i swear! I wanna go home. like who knows if my family is going crazy finding me or something?" She chuckled softly with a fond look on her face as if she's remembering her family. You give her a soft smile of your own.

Sometimes later, su-bong and his team finally came back after completing the game successfully.

You don't want to admit it to yourself but you found your tense shoulders relaxing.

Worry leaving your body.

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© riitales, 2025, Do not repost or copy in any way.

NOTES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[dotthings]

Dean was so traumatized by Cas's decision to do self-penance in Purgatory and push Dean away and let go of his hand at the portal, that Dean's brain rewrote the memories until he blamed himself. Losing Cas was unbearable, even more unbearable was the idea that it was because Cas felt the need to self-punish for everything he'd done. Rejecting coming home with Dean.

Dean was struggling and screaming trying to go after Cas into the other dimension after Cas raced through a portal to go after Lucifer, and Sam had to physically restrain him.

When Cas died in the S12 finale, Dean fell to the ground on his knees next to Cas and stayed there for who knows how long and then he carried Cas's body into the cabin and wrapped his body with torn curtains he ripped with his own hands, and as far as we have seen nobody else was allowed to come into that room but Dean, and he sat vigil with Cas's body. Dean couldn't even admit out loud that Cas was dead.

Dean yelled at God to bring Cas back and got bloodied knuckles from punching his grief against a sign. When Bobby was dying in S7, Dean punched a picture on the wall in the hospital, breaking the frame.

Eventually Dean reached a point where he could burn the body. Just as Dean and Sam burned their father's body and their mother's body. The act of a hunter burning the body of a loved one. Sam had to burn Dean's body at the end of S15. Dean burned Charlie's body in S10.

Dean lost his sense of hope and his suicidal ideation increased--he insisted on being injected and temporarily dying in order to communicate with a child ghost they were trying to help. Dean also temp died to try to help Sam many seasons back, he did that for Sam, and for a child they barely know. But losing Cas took his sense of hope and made him even more reckless.

Getting Cas back transformed Dean. The show conveyed it symbolically with light washing over Dean the moment he got the call. And then we watched his joy and sense of purpose return. He called Cas his big win.

Again, I didn't make the rules. These are canon events. I'm merely reporting them. Cas matters.

[23swife]

FADE INTO YOU — SAM WINCHESTER

summary : you probably shouldn’t blame yourself for sam getting hurt but that doesn’t stop you — tags : fem!reader, established relationship, hurt sam.

you have a hand on sam’s chest, the other wrapped around his back as you and dean walk him into the bunker. with every grunt and wince you can feel your resolve break and you can tell just how useless you are right now. sam and dean are taller than you, bigger too. so while you’re sure dean’s holding his brother up, you’re not confident you are. 

you don’t get to dwell on it too long as dean takes you both to sam’s room and he lays his brother down carefully, looking over at you. “i need to shower, you okay?” he asks, even if you’re sure his main concern is if you can take care of sam. you nod anyway.

he kisses your head quickly and runs out of the room, leaving you and your boyfriend alone, and you wish you could be as relaxed as you always are with sam, you wish he could make it all go away with one word, you wish you weren’t eating yourself up inside. “honey,” sam whispers from his spot, brushing his hair back and you look up from the ground to see him sitting up. “you okay?”

you scoff at the question, it’s ridiculous. are you okay? are you the one who got your toes burned off? are you the one who went through physiological torture? are you the one who got practically drowned for three days. 

even acknowledging his question seems wrong so you decide not to as you search his closet for his clean clothes, after finding a grey shirt and matching sweatpants for him to wear after his shower you lay it on the bed. “come on.” you grit out, but you’re not mad at him, he has to know that.

“what?”

“we need to get you clean or you’re not going to be able to go to sleep.” he stands off the bed, a little wobbly on his feet, like being straight up gets him dizzy and you bite your lip to hold back the emotions you’re sure will flow out at any second now. you try to help, moving his arm around shoulders as you walk with him to the bathroom. when you just stand there while he strips he start to get wary. 

“you alright?”

you only nod. “‘m fine. d’you need help?” 

“no, you can wait outside if you want.” the fact that you can’t even tell if it’s a rejection or just a simple question breaks your heart. he’s so unreadable right now, after the three days he spent there. and it’s all your fault. 

“i— i can stay. if you don’t mind, if you want me to.” it’s nothing you haven’t seen before and dean already cleaned up all the cuts at a motel so you’d only sit down and hope for the best the entirety of his shower. which somehow, seems to be the most sane idea for you right now. 

he doesn’t mind, finally getting in the shower and shutting the curtain a little. you sigh, throwing your head against the wall behind you. if you had been there for sam. if you hadn’t been crying over dean dying. if you hadn’t been fighting with cas. if, if, if. who goddamn knows anymore. 

one thing you’re sure of, it’s your fault. your fault sam’s hurt, your fault sam can hardly walk, your fault that woman played with his head and your fault for maybe slightly considering what that man had said… how the MoL are only trying to help.

wondering about it is where you draw the line, though, you’re not seeking them out. they hurt sam. there’s no way you’d ever sign up to be with them after that. 

when the shower turns off, he steps out, a hand on the wall. you pass him the towel you were standing next to.

you know how sam feels about being babied, so you’re grateful he let you stay to make sure he’s fine. maybe it’s because he knows that this is as much comfort for you as it is concern for him.

sam’s dressed and clean on the bed. you’re still covered in dirt and blood to last a few days. you’re sure sam has noticed because the next words out of his mouth are, “you gonna go next?” 

“i think— yeah i’ll shower. in my room.” you swallow nothing, closing the bathroom door as you notice how close you are to it, and the fact that you’re doing nothing with your hands or your body— you just need a fucking distraction.

“your room? why?”

as you try to come up with an excuse, you notice it’s not too far from the truth, “you need your space and i feel like it’d just be more comfortable.” and maybe you’re speaking for the two of you, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“like i’d be more comfortable or you’d be more comfortable?”

as if you weren’t hinting at it, your eyes widen. “sam, no—”

“what’s wrong? why are you acting like?” he tries to move as his words become more urgent and immediately winces which gives you the final reason to push away from the wall and walk to the door. “hey—”

“good night.” you’ve never left sam’s room faster.

and as you lay down on your bed after your shower, your mind racing, you notice that you’ve not spent the night alone in a long time. motel rooms, bunker, jody’s, you’re always with sam. just the way you like it… but not the last three days. the last three days you slept in the impala with dean. the last three days, you were guilt ridden and crying every night thinking how you were too emotional about dean leaving that you stormed off and didn’t looks after your own fucking boyfriend. 

sam would’ve never done this to you, in fact, when dean went to die he didn’t do it to you. and it isn’t like you love dean more than sam loves him, he’s his brother, but it hit you so hard, how often the boys die, that you couldn’t help everything that came out.

and maybe you can’t help the tears running down your cheek right now. except they come to a complete halt when you hear a knock on your door and sit up on your elbows, whisper a ‘come in’ you’re not sure anyone would hear but the door opens and a limping sam is your on your doorway.

“sam? oh my god,” you stand up, hurrying over to him. he’s not so bad considering he can walk from his room to yours but he needs the rest and he’s using it up to come to your room? “what are you doing—”

“what are you doing? since when do you sleep in your room?” there’s not much light, just the one from the hallway, but you’re sure he can see your tear stricken face. “this doesn’t make any sense, i’m gone for three days and all of a sudden you want your own room?”

“i— what?” why is he making this seem like a fight? you’re not fighting, you’re… you’re heartbroken. “sam, i’m just, i don’t know, i didn’t think it mattered.” you didn’t think it matters to him, at least. 

“of course it matters.” he sighs, hand moving to steady himself, holding onto your dresser and you’re guilt is back by a thousand, working quickly to get him to your bed. when you’re both finally on it you’re can’t help the way you throw yourself into his chest (as softly as you can, anyway). 

his surprised gasp and strong arms around you are perhaps the only things that would’ve ever calmed you down. you don’t cry, you’re not sure your strong enough to stop if you do, so you decide against it. but you lean into his chest, and he lays his head on yours, and it’s as comfortable as you think you’ll both get. 

its the most comfortable you’ve been the past week and your neck is craned.

sam lets you go, pulls away to look at you and your first instinct is to hide away again, you don’t want a conversation and you don’t want a fight and you don’t want to feel the guilt eat at you again.

“please,” sam’s stronger than any other man you know, any man you’ve seen, and yet he seems so small in moments like these, “you need to tell me. i can’t sleep knowing you’re mad or—”

“mad?”

“yeah, you’re not talking to me.”

“yeah because i’m guilty. i mean, sam, you know it hurts seeing you like this,” his eyes furrow like you haven’t been wearing your heart on your sleeve the entire day.

“are you serious?” your nod does nothing but make him lean down and capture your lips in his, and how embarrassing is it that it’s just what you’ve been craving the entire day. when he pulls back you’re thinking he’s too pure, too beautiful, for you to deserve him. those eyes looking down at you, “why would you be guilty? sweetheart, you didn’t do this.”

“i left you—”

“and cas left too. and everyone else left because we were all angry and we didn’t know what to do, the fact that they found me is a coincidence and— i mean, mum’s back, and dean’s back, so it didn’t all come out bad, right?”

you frown, sitting up and away from his touch completely, “sam, don’t say that. nothing good came out of you enduring that pain for days. none of this had anything to do with what they did to you.”

“yeah,” he sighs, leans back on the pillow, “i know, sweetheart, i know, but you can’t possibly feel guilty about this. you didn’t do anything and— and i don’t think it’s doin’ anyone any good when you’re not in my arms.”

your face lights up at only the mention and sam chuckles softly. you’re careful not to hurt him as you lay next to him and he brings his feet up leisurely on the bed. you rest your head on his chest, his arm resting on your back possessively, as if you’ll pull away again.

and you’re scared you might too. “‘m sorry, sam.” 

he scoffs, “stop it. i love you, you know that, right?” you look up at him, shake your head yes, “then stop, i missed you and— i can’t see why we should spend the night feeling depressed when we can be together.”

“we can do both.” you laugh a little at your own joke and he rolls his eyes affectionately. you smile as you kiss him again. and again. and until you both fall asleep because you’re not exactly sure what tomorrow will be like but with mary here and dean back, it won’t be an easy day. you’ve always only needed sam to make your nights better anyways. 

forgot everything about this episode so might include some inaccuracies oops

i hate exams and they’re literally so ahhssh and i wrote this cause it’s been like sitting in my inbox forever i’m so distrust my love but hope u enjoyed

on a totally unrelated note, bot dump coming tomorrow cause i wanted to make a post for all my c.ai bots

okay i’ll go study now!!

[laviefantasie]

You’re Losing Me

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Summary: Is love truly enough? Enough to stick around even when you feel yourself slowly dying from it? Can it truly ever be enough?

| Masterlist |

She couldn’t breathe. She could feel her lungs pushing against her ribcage while looking for the oxygen they begged to inhale. Her heart throbbed against them, looking for any sign —no matter if it was painful— to remind itself that it still lived. That it could still beat.

She didn’t think she could blame her heart for the need to make sure it could still beat, not after the words she had just uttered to the reason it had been beating so harmoniously for so long.

“We’re done”

She didn’t even know she had said it until she saw his eyes widen in disbelief. She didn’t even know she’d ever truly have the courage to say it out loud.

But she had. It was done.

“What—why? Y/N, baby, what’s—I don’t understand”

Hurt. That’s all she could see on those blue-green eyes she had always found comfort in. Those who had always looked at her with so much love it had been unbelievable. Those eyes who lately hadn’t shined in her direction even once.

She could hear her pulse all throughout her body. She could hear it as loudly as if her heart had been pressed against her ears.

Could she truly say it again? Could she be brave—strong enough to utter those painful words one more time? Did she really have to?

“We’re… we’re done, Eren” she weakly whispers.

It pained her, of course. It truly felt as if she was forced to talk after swallowing glass, her throat and mouth filled with blood that stopped her from formulating the words as loud as she should’ve.

Eren shook his head in disbelief. Everything in his body felt numb. It felt as if someone had thrown a cold bucket of water at him and left him outside during winter with not even a jacket to give him a sense of warmth. This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t understand why it was happening.

“I don’t understand” he whispers weakly “I don’t… Y/N, please…”

“The fact th-that you don’t understand” she sobs weakly, the tears she had fought so hard to contain flowing freely down her cheeks, “Is even mor-more reason why we must bre-break up”

“Did I do something?” He asks, tears accumulating in his eyes “What did I do? I ca-will fix it”

She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want to hear him.

All this time she had been wanting him to fix what he had broken. All this time she had been waiting for him to realize that he was hurting her. That loving him was killing her. All this time she wanted him to give her one reason to stay.

And all this time he hadn’t.

“You can’t fix it”

Her voice once soft and weak became hard and pained. All the hurt she had to endure this last year coming back full force, giving her the strength she needed to save herself from self destructing. The strength she needed to not give in.

“It’s too late to fix it” she finalizes “I’ve been waiting all this year for you to fix it. I’m done waiting”

“Y/N—”

“Do you know how hard it was to watch you push everyone, including me, away?” She sobs “How hard it was to watch you shamelessly flirt with every girl that looked your way while I was right there at your side waiting for you to notice me? How hard it was to see you shrug off our relationship, our friendship, as if it was nothing?”

Eren’s eyes widen even more, if possible. Had he truly been doing that? He knew he had change, he knew he had closed off on his friends after his parents passing, but they had never once left his side. She had never left his side. No matter how hard he pushed. Or how cruel he was.

And then last year he had gotten his shit together. She had helped him with that. He had pushed all his pain onto something productive and had become the university’s star quarterback.

Is that when it all started? When his dull grief-striking eyes and neutral face had become the bad boy mysterious persona every girl wanted to date and every boy wanted to be. Was it then when he decided to play along to all of it just to not feel alone, to feel worthy, forgetting what he truly had always had by his side?

Had it really come to this? Had he really taken for granted what he had by believing he always would have it?

“We—I would’ve stayed with you through anything” she continues “I stayed through everything. No matter how bad it was. But… I’m out of reasons to stay”

“I love you”

Three words. Three words he had never once uttered in that year. Three words she had remembered herself those 365 days to keep fighting.

Those three words had already lost its meaning.

“Loving isn’t enough anymore”

And she turned around going for the door. He scrambled out of the bed he had been sitting while looking up at her as fast as he could.

She couldn’t leave. If she left it became real. If she left he wouldn’t be able to fix what he had broken.

Had he really broken the best thing that had happened to him? The one thing in his life that still gave him hope?

He tried to grasp her hand, to stop her from leaving, but she had already opened the door and crossed it. His hand met the wooden frame as her body started making her way through the hallway, away from his dorm.

How had it come to this?

It had been a year after Eren’s parents death through a tragic car accident. A year since Zeke, Eren’s older half-brother, had taken his custody. It had been a hard year. Eren’s eyes had lost its incomparable spark and his smile had ceased to exist.

Mikasa, Armin and Y/N, his closets friends since childhood, along with the rest of their gang had done everything they could to help him. Even when he snapped at them, spitting cruel words that fed into their insecurities, they never left his side. He pushed and pushed with all his might, anything to keep them away in fear of ever feeling the tightness in his chest of losing someone he loved again. But they pushed back. All of them. Never once giving in.

They knew he was hurting. They knew it. And they would never leave his side while he did so.

So they stuck around no matter how hurt they got along the way. Because it was Eren, and Eren deserved to have people fight for him as hard as he used to fight for them.

Y/N became the best fighter among them.

She would take his cruel malicious words with grace before embracing him against her warmth, letting him let out all his anger and sadness on her. Promising to carry it on her shoulders in hopes of lifting some from his, as small as the portion was.

And day by day, night by night, she stood tall by his side. Never once letting him fall.

He was thankful, even when he didn’t voice it. She had giving him something constant, something he could hold onto when the waves that came crashing towards him in hopes of drowning him got to him. She kept her hold steady and unfaltering, keeping him afloat.

So, when had he started taking it for granted?

“Eren Jaeger, isn’t it?”

He had been waiting outside the Economics classroom for Y/N’s class to finish so they could go have lunch when the captain of the cheerleading squad Historia was a part of first spoke to him.

It wasn’t that people didn’t know him around university, they did with him being the quarterback, he just wasn’t someone that you would think was easy to approach. So people normally didn’t. Not that he minded, he had all he needed with his friends and you by his side.

He nods, coldly.

But she smiled. As brightly as possible, her hazel eyes shining under the hallway’s lights.

“Last week’s game was amazing! You were so fast, it seemed nobody could ever come close to catching you” she giggled.

His cold demeanor melted slightly, not used to compliments from other than his coach and friends. Most people just clapped him on the back as a way to congratulate him, too afraid to say something to him.

He nods again in thanks.

“We, the cheer girls and the team’s boys, were thinking of holding a small get-together to celebrate the win” she continues “We’d like you to come. We know you don’t like those sceneries, as you’ve made clear before, but Connie and Jean are going. Reiner and Bertolt too”

He stays quiet.

“Just wanted to formally invite you. Hopefully the rest of your teammates going, the ones you’re actually close with, persuades you”

Before Eren can refuse, the bell rings and the door he was standing beside bursts open. Students cross it without even batting an eye.

Eren’s eyes soften once he catches a glance of you and the bright sincere smile you send his way when you see him. All under the cheerleading’s watchful curious gaze.

“Ren” you kissed his cheek before looking at the girl he was talking to, “Chloe! Hi! I haven’t seen you in a while, still battling with Calculus?”

The blonde girl, Chloe, groans, “Ugh, Mr. Ackerman is still the worst”

Both girls share a laugh under Eren’s curious gaze. Did they known each other? For the laugh you just shared and the familiarity in which you talked with one another he guessed you did. How? He guessed that through a class since he hadn’t ever seen you hang out with other girls that weren’t Mikasa, Sasha, Historia or Ymir.

“You know each other?”

His voice is cold and dull, but his gaze on you is soft. So soft that Chloe isn’t sure she imagined it. She didn’t know he could have a gaze as soft as that with the cold lifeless way he glared at everything around him.

And yet, Y/N smiled as if he had just told her she was the most beautiful girl to ever exist.

“We do! We met during Ackerman’s Calculus class last semester”

“This little genius became our teacher’s favorite while I am stuck with him once more” the blonde beauty groaned.

“You’ll get it this time. I can help you”

That’s something he had always loved about you. The selfless way you tried to help everyone in every little way you could.

“You’re an angel, Y/N” she smiles “How do you two know each other?”

Y/N’s smile brightened if possible, “This is my adorable boyfriend that I’ve told you about”

Chloe’s eyes widen in disbelief, “Eren Jaeger is the all-loving charismatic too-good-to-be-true childhood best friend told lover you’ve told me about?”

You laughed before nodding making Chloe’s eyes widen even more.

For Y/N, Chloe’s face was funny and innocent. Eren, on the other hand, understood the gleam of uncertainty in the blonde’s eyes. It was obvious she was trying to comprehend how the perfect boyfriend you had describe was the university’s feared lifeless bad boy.

It made him angry to feel as if he wasn’t worthy of you, he already thought so himself so seeing someone else think that made his blood boil.

He wanted to prove to everyone and to himself that he was worth it, that he could be worthy of you. So he did the one thing that condemned you both without even knowing it.

“When’s the party?”

The party had been eventful and unexpected. None of their friends had expected Eren and neither had they expected the way he had behaved that night. He had drank and talked, and even though he hadn’t laughed or smiled he had become this unapproachable guy that now everyone wanted to approach.

His aura was intoxicating. And like a moth to the flame, everyone would fly towards him as if he was holding the matches.

Mikasa, Armin and Y/N had watch with uncertainty the amount of attention Eren was receiving. But moreover, the way he seemed to be bathing in it. It was a weird sight. Eren had never been one to want attention, he always got it without looking for it though. But he had never seek it.

So why was he seeking and bathing in it now?

“Well…” started Armin “At least he seems okay”

Y/N nodded a little uncertain, but Mikasa frowned.

“I don’t like this” she muttered “Feels like the start of a disaster”

“Don’t frown, Mika” Y/N said lovingly, “Maybe this is what he needs to open up more. He’s been getting better, so maybe… maybe this is his way of trying to go back to who he is”

“I don’t know”

“We have to trust him” Armin added, “It’s not like he’s doing anything bad anyway, he’s just making friends”

Mikasa’s frown deepened but she let herself be guided out of the living room towards the kitchen by her two closest friends. She had a bad feeling about all of this, she just hoped she was wrong.

But they had all come to know a long time ago that Mikasa’s instincts were never wrong. Especially concerning Eren.

The first time they realize that something was wrong was during their monthly movie night between the Scouts, as they like to call themselves since their camp days where all they met and became friends. It was that night that Eren first truly disappointed them.

[ Can’t make it. Party at Floch’s. Srry ]

That’s all his text to the group chat had said. Not only had he totally blown them off on their tradition, but he hadn’t even bother to invite them. It was maddening. Especially since Connie and Jean were also invited to said party and refused to go because of their plans.

It weirded them all out. If they had invited Reiner and Bertolt and they cancelled they could’ve understood, they were close but not that close.

It had always been Armin, Mikasa, Eren and Y/N until camp. And then it had become Armin, Mikasa, Eren, Y/N, Jean, Connie, and Sasha. More had been added along the way, but the seven of them were as tight as possible. Nothing could ever come in their way, so why did it suddenly feel like something could?

They spent their movie night in an uncomfortable silence. Not even Jean, who always took every opportunity he could to insult Eren, said something.

And then one movie night missed became two and three until they just stopped expecting him to come.

At university, Eren barely found them to spend time with them during his breaks or lunch as they were used to. Instead they were forced to look for him all throughout the campus, always finding him surrounded by other team members or cheerleaders.

And even then, Armin and Y/N tried to convince themselves this was just him trying to become socially available once again. No matter how many times Mikasa told them she didn’t believe that was the case.

Their disappointment reach its breaking point when Armin received an ‘SOS’ text from Mikasa asking him to go to their dorm, only to find a dolled up sobbing Y/N on the dark-haired beauty’s embrace. Eren had missed their anniversary date to hang out with Floch. Y/N could’ve probably let it slide if it hadn’t been for the any times he had already cancelled —and stood her up— before.

That was the last straw for Armin.

He had seen you, Y/N, his childhood best friend give your all to the blue-green-eyed boy. Since the moment you both had met Eren and Mikasa, you had always given all you could give to Eren. Especially the last couple of years when he had started to become unstable. You had never given in. Never had you left him alone, no matter how many reason you’d had.

So what gave him the right to make you cry?

Armin never again excused his behavior after that night. Him and Mikasa always standing beside you as you had to endure the attention from girls Eren was receiving, especially when he seemed to enjoy it so much. More than once had they offered to give him a peace of their minds, begged you really, but you had refused. You didn’t know what was going on through his head but you had faith in him. Faith that he would figure it out and fix it, as he had always done before.

You had waited for the whole year.

Your last straw came on your birthday. Just a month after Christmas, which Eren failed to celebrate with the Scouts again in their traditional small gathering on the 25th.

Your friends had all prepared you a surprise party, which they had planned through a secret group chat in which Eren had failed to text back every time. The party was set to start at 10 o’clock at night at Armin’s house, giving you enough time to spend the morning as you always did with your family and the rest of the day with Eren, as they all had been used to since you two started dating exactly five years ago when both of you were fifteen. It was perfect, honestly, you’d be too distracted with the brunette boy to find suspicious why they all had been MIA.

Except Eren didn’t show up at your doorstep. He hadn’t even called or texted.

Which meant you spent the rest of the day before the party locked in your room crying silently while you wondered why.

Only to find out through Floch’s instagram story he was at his house, with an unknown girl under his arm.

By the time Mikasa had gone to pick you up at your childhood home, you were asleep on your bed with swollen eyes and dry tear and mascara stains on your cheeks. She had gasped at the sight, not understanding what had happened. At least until she saw what was on the phone —which was still unblocked— you held softly in your grasp.

And the dark-haired beauty saw red.

She had texted Armin and soon the party had moved to your living room, and instead of a party they turned it into a movie night. They decorated the place and made a blanket fort, Annie even going as far as going to buy some fairy lights to put all over the place.

By the time Sasha went to wake you up and helped you get ready, all of them hid awaiting your arrival.

It had helped heal your broken heart a little.

Still you couldn’t ignore what had been going on for long enough anymore. You had finally ran out of excuses.

So the next week when Armin went to the dorm you and Mikasa shared, you knew. And they knew you knew. So they held you, all day and night, trying to give you the strength you’d need to do what was right for you.

And you did.

And that’s how you’d both gotten to this stage of your story. As painful as getting there had been.

Eren fell to the floor. His knees had given out. He had been frozen on his spot, watching the door intently as if that would somehow make you come back. He thought he had been doing the right thing, he thought he had finally start becoming someone worthy of you. Someone that deserved to be loved by someone as good as you.

He was sobbing. He didn’t even know when he had started, but his body shook with the force of each sob.

He didn’t know what to do. How could he keep going without your unwavering presence beside him giving him the strength he needed to fight back against the cruel world they lived in?

That’s how Armin found him when he came back from his classes. Hugging his knees to his chest on the floor as he sobbed his heart out.

“So she actually did it, huh?”

His teary gaze found his best friend’s stone cold one.

“I d-don’t… Ar-Armin, I don-don’t unders-understand”

“You don’t understand?” He scoffed, “You missed every single movie night we’ve had for a year. You’ve missed every date you guys planned. You missed your anniversary, Christmas, the New Year. And you don’t understand?”

Eren stares, dumbfounded. Had he truly missed all that? He couldn’t even remember properly at this moment.

“You even missed her birthday” Armin continued, “It was last Friday, FYI”

Another sob wrecks through his body. Your birthday, he had missed your birthday. He didn’t even remember the last time he had ever missed one and now he had completely forgotten about it.

What was wrong with him?

“I truly don’t know what was going through your head all this year. Nor why you did every single thing you did” Armin sighed “I’m just glad she finally had the courage to walk away. You were killing her. Everytime you flirted with another girl, every time you blew her off, you were killing her. I’m glad she finally walked away”

Eren had no idea something could hurt this much after his parents’ passing. But it truly hurt more to know he had lost the person he loved the most when she still was at arm’s length.

Especially when this time there was nothing nor no one else to blame but himself. He had pushed you too far this time and you weren’t coming back.

He had lost you.

[scoobydoodean]

I have 2 spn accounts, a Deancentric blog that ships Destiel and another account that unintentionally follows a lot of Samgirl blogs. So one blog follows majority Deangirl blogs and the other incidentally follows a lot of Samgirl blogs. And here's the major difference I've noticed on the different dashboards.

Deangirl dashboard: Great meta analysis. Beautiful art. Level 1 and 2 headcanons (largely based in canon). Pro-Dean. Stumble across reblogs of Deancrit. Bitter Deangirl blogging. Generally fair portrayal and discussion of the positive and negative traits and actions of Dean, Sam and Cas. Deanhater anons.

Samgirl dashboard: An entirely different pool of beautiful art. Whole lotta woobie!Sam art where Dean is his abuser. Deancrit about Dean being an abuser. Bitter Samgirl blogging about how people will find any excuse to hate Sam. "How can anyone be Samcrit he has done nothing wrong ever." Level 5 headcanons (you literally ignored canon to make that up). More about how Dean is Sam's abuser. So many posts about how awful Samcrit is. "Do Deangirls really think that Dean cries himself to sleep at night thinking that ppl thinks he doesn't know how to read." I have yet to see any actual Samcrit posts (not even links or reblogs from Sam defenders), not even after literally searching the Samcrit tag for it. The Samcrit tag is full of Samgirls crying about Samcrit and no actual Samcrit. "Samgirls are feral, but we need to be bc of the hate ppl throw Sam's way."

I literally have to block so many people on the incidentally Samgirl dashboard bc I'm not on Tumblr to randomly stumble across a post on how Dean is a toxic stalker who abused Sam by changing Amelia's number in his cellphone. Do you have any idea on why Samgirls seem to feel so attacked all the time even though I literally only ever see *them* attacking Dean?

If you dig deep enough into any fandom, you will encounter people who fetishize "helpless victimhood". Some fandoms attract more people with those particular proclivities than others. Supernatural and Sam in particular attracts people who hold those sorts of aesthetic interests because of his relationship toward accountability versus Dean's.

Dean is a character with an overactive sense of responsibility. He blames himself for the Lindbergh baby and unemployment and every child murdered by a shrtiga from 1990 to 2005 because he went to play an arcade game when he was 10. He also blames himself for things like Jessica dying and Sam not being in school. Other characters pile on this blame frequently. John blames Dean for Sam getting hurt (1.18). Ruby tells him (and Sam) that Sam is a weak baby who won't psychologically survive without Dean there to protect him (3.11). Meg alleges that Dean is "dragging Sam everywhere" (1.16). Sam rewrites reality from 1.05 to 1.21 to make Dean responsible for his burning desire for revenge. Cas and Zachariah and Gabriel blame Dean when Sam breaks the last seal because he didn't stop Sam in time. Sam blames Dean for him drinking demon blood first because Dean wasn't there to protect him and then—in a complete 180—because Dean is smothering (4.04, 5.05). Dean generally absorbs blame when it is piled at his feet because he has been blamed for things he couldn't control for most of his life and thus he feels guilty and responsible for things even when him being responsible makes no logical sense. He's never a victim of anything—everything is always on him.

Sam, on the other hand, tends to eventually deflect blame because he can't handle the gnawing bite of it for long. It reminds him too deeply of being left isolated and alone as a child and the feelings of otherness and wrongness he developed through that neglect. When his actions ultimately have consequences he didn't foresee and/or that he finds undesirable, it makes him feel ugly and unaccepted and he can't face it so he eventually finds a way to make what happened someone else's fault—usually Dean's fault. Nothing is ever on him. He's always at least a little bit of a victim and Dean always carries at least partial responsibility for his decisions (1.21, 1.08, 4.04, 5.05, 8.23, 11.01)

In other words, Sam has an under-active sense of responsibility and Dean has an overactive responsibility and that dynamic—driven by their childhood experiences—places them into a vicious cycle of blame being cast onto Dean for Sam's decisions and Dean absorbing it. Dean absorbing it reinforcing the narrative for samgirls with a victimhood fetish that Dean deserves blame and that Sam truly is a helpless baby. They never watch what actually happens on the show to see whether this narrative that Dean is responsible for everything and Sam is a helpless baby lines up with the actual events that occurred onscreen because why would they? That would ruin their enjoyment. Sam isn't interesting to them outside of his capacity to be mourned as some sort of helpless martyr. And yes—they will cry and moan about how horrible and unfair Sam's suffering is, but it isn't because they're having a bad time. They're having a great time. They love thinking about Sam that way. They wouldn't be here blogging about it day in and day out for the last 20 years if they didn't actually want to see exactly what they're seeing.

Related tags of note:

#sams motivations

#taurus sam in the flesh

#In which Sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea

#sam the hunter

#sams follower/leader false dichotomy

#parentification

[daughterofnyks2003]

So, I've had this fic idea for a couple of days now, and I finally decided to write it. I'm not much of a writer, so it's probably not very good, but at least I got it out of my head.

***

It was dark, it was cold, and they were wet from the rain and surrounded by corpses. All in all, he should be miserable. But the angel next to him is laughing, and somehow, that makes it all better.

They just finished what was supposed to be an easy hunt. One werewolf, one silver bullet, and back to the bunker they went. But with their luck, one werewolf turned out to be a pack. Of fucking course. They handled it, but in Dean's opinion, it took them way too long.

He blamed Cas.

Because nobody should be allowed to look that good while fighting. Really, it should be illegal. So he got a little distracted. No big deal. Yes, the werewolf did almost rip his stomach out, and yes, he did almost die. But hey, Cas healed him before he bled to death so now he was only a little dizzy from the blood loss. It wasn't that bad.

So, here they were, in the woods near the town of who-the-fuck-even-cares, Ohio. In the rain. Waiting for Sammy to pick up his damn phone.

They were sitting on a hill, that Cas practically dragged him to after the fight. Well, Cas was sitting. Dean was lying on his back next to him, rambling about whatever. Just to pass the time, and maybe (but he won't admit it) to see the angel laughing quietly at his comments.

"And that is why Led Zeppelin is the superior band, and I am…" He didn't finish, as something occurred to him. He broke out in hysterical laughter. Cas shot him a 'how hard did you hit your head' look.

"I am literally dying on this hill!" He laughed. Was it funny? He thought it was funny.

"You're not dying, Dean" the angel sighed "and technically it's a mound"

Dean stopped laughing.

"Nuh uh, dude. I know what a hill looks like"

"Apparently not, because it's a mound." From where he was lying, hunter couldn't see his face, but he knew Cas was smirking. He sat up to continue what he knew would probably change into a solid half hour of bickering.

"No, it's not"

"Yes, it is"

"No, it's not"

"Dean, I was there when it was created. It's a mound, not a hill"

"Oh, come on. What's the difference anyway?"

"There are dead people in it"

"There are dead people everywhere, the hill isn't special"

"The mound"

Dean rolled his eyes and was about to continue arguing. But the words died in his mouth.

When did they get so close?

He looked at Cas, those blue eyes staring back at him. They were what seemed like inches apart, and if the angel needed to breathe, Dean was certain he could've felt his breath on his face.

The staring continued, both of them silent now.

Later, he was gonna blame it on the blood loss. But then, at that moment, he just didn't care. All he could think about, was closing what little distance remaind between them. He realized it was something he wanted to do for a long time.

Dean was about a second or two away from ruining their friendship for the better when his phone rang. Startled back to reality, the hunter turned away from his angel, trying not to think about what he almost did. Because it was stupid. Because there was no way that the celestial being next to him could like him back. Feeling Cas still staring at him, he picked up the device and looked at the caller ID.

Sam

That fucking moose.

Dean picked up.

"Where the fuck are you, Bitch?" He said in lieu of greeting.

"Parked near the road, Jerk" was his brother's response "Been waiting for you to finish up, where the fuck are you?"

"On a hill- "

"Mound" Cas interrupted him, sounding amused. Like nothing happened. Like they weren't about to… Nope, Dean was not thinking about it.

"On a HILL, waiting for you to show up" he said instead, purposefully avoiding looking at Cas "We'll be down in a minute"

He hung up the phone and started getting up, still refusing to look his best friend in the eye. And as they started walking to the car, he told himself he imagined it. That it was blood loss, that he was tired. That it was dark and he didn't see things correctly.

Because there was no way that Castiel, a powerful Angel of the Lord, a being older than Earth itself, actually looked disappointed when Dean pulled back to answer Sam's call.

[astrylx]

Supernatural Liveblog - S.5 Ep.08 - Changing Channels

TRICKSTER EPISODE SPOTTED! I love the Trickster, I love him so much, he might be one of, if not my favorite character. This episode is going to be fun. I also may or may not be attracted to him, but I'm also gay with bad taste so...

SITCOMNATURAL!

The change in colours from this episode compared to the rest of the series is so jarring.

This dumb little theme song, I love it.

Hulk? Okay then.

Please ally with the Trickster I would love that. (it's not going to happen)

They're in Dean's 'Dr. Sexy' now, aren't they?

Oh Dean's a hardcore watcher now, is he?

For all the Trickster has put them through, they really don't believe the things he does much, do they?

WHY DOES DEAN SEEM SOMEWHAT INTO DR. SEXY?? gay?

DEAN IN THIS EPISODE IS KILLING ME-

is it bad if I say I want the Trickster so bad...

Not Dean dying AGAIN. A theme with these episodes.

Okay not dead, but nearly.

AHAHAHA WHAT AM I WATCHING

CAS!!!

Cas can't interfere here, the trickster is stronger than Cas.

what the fuck was that question oh my-

DEAN SAID YES- this hurts.

THEY'RE IN A HERPES AD? THE EPISODE AFTER SAM WAS GIVEN GONORRHEA??

I KNEW IT WAS SOMETHING MORE THAN A TRICKSTER!

I jokingly said the Gabriel was the trickster in a text to a friend AS A JOKE but now I don't think it's a joke I think it may be. This for sure isn't a demon, and it's nothing like the pagan gods we've seen. I think I may have been right.

Never mind I guess? I'm confused now.

More terrible effects and CGI... Also they killed an innocent guy.

Trickster better not be dead, I love him too much for that.

PHEW!

Wait Sam is the car? PF-

DUDE I WAS RIGHT?!!

I WAS FUCKING RIGHT!!! IM

IM SO THRILLED RIGHT NOW!!!

I’m starting to feel so bad for him. He left Heaven to escape his family fighting.

FUCK, HIM TURNING THE TABLES ON THEM-

Him describing the roles, holy shit.

Is that way Azazel picked Sam? He knew this? Or?

Richard Speight Jr has the most gorgeous eyes I can’t look away.

They’re just leaving him? Lol-

They let him free after everything.

That glare he gave Castiel, damn.

Is what Dean said to Sam just not going to be acknowledged? They never get to know? Because I know they don’t know Japanese, or what happened, but Dean literally blamed Sam for their parents being dead. That’s heavy.

ANYWAY! Gabriel, I love you, you’re beautiful.