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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

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Whitmore Guy comes clean

Whitmore Guy masterlist

word count: 4158

music: why are you here by mgk, halfway dead by steve aoki, global dan and travis barker

“I’m here”, he said after a pause. By this time she was already sat in her bed, in a defensive position, with her knees firmly in the mattress.

“Mal!”

He didn’t let her finish.

“Would you have preferred me to stay invisible, would that make you feel more comfortable?” he asked reasonably, reading her mind. “You know I’ve been here. Because I told you”.

“Bonnie did”, she yelled, “Bonnie did! What are you, Mal?”

Mal stepped out of the darkness without making noise, and it hit her finally. Finally. He’s not human. There’s no way in hell he’s mortal! The way he moves, the way he never looks tired, although he claims to barely ever sleep, the way he just manifests himself at places; she thought of the first time they met, back in the gatherings hall, and how he smelt sweet like chewing candy. And how she thought he might be a trickster. That would suit him well. The eyes were pitch black in the twilight of the room. Y/N didn’t move.

“That’s a bit harsh”, he said coldly. “What am I, really? You think I’m some kind of monster?”

He chuckled and gave his light attitude away.

“How did you get inside my house? You never broke the lock”, she said quietly.

“I picked it. It’s easy. Do you want me to show you?”

She got out of bed puffing. She wasn’t afraid of him, but he creeped her out. If that makes sense? She felt like she could take him out, no matter what, and not because she could arguably throw a punch. But because she had certain power over him. Mal has always been nice to her, not in a friendly way, but in a ‘you’re special’ way. As opposed to everybody else. With other people, he was superficial, secretly arrogant and dismissive, but he treated her differently which, unfortunately for him, gave her the advantage. That’s what she thought.

Mal smiled slowly as she approached him, circling the bed. He bit his lower lip, pretending to check her out.

“You never answer any of my questions. You never tell me the truth”.

“I never lie to you, either. You just gotta ask the right questions”.

Mal lifted his hand and looked at the invisible watch on his wrist.

“We have to go. Can you get dressed really quickly?”

She narrowed her eyes. Obviously, something’s up if he showed up in her house. And didn’t ‘stay invisible’. Clearly, she needs to call Damon ASAP and check on them. Her paranoia told her to. Yet, she was standing there, in comfortable darkness, allowing him to listen to her heartbeat, two steps away from him, and her head was filled with the memories of them making out on the couch after the dinner party. Between the dinner party and finding the bodies in the house next door. She wanted to kiss him again, wanted so very badly, but thankfully, she was a thinking creature. Hot take: the desires of the body are not stronger than the council of the brain. Mal wanted that, too. His face was lean, wolf-like in the shadows, and he watched her carefully, badly hidden threat behind his smile. His smile was always only lips-deep, like a sticker he put over his face, like a mask. Every time Y/N touched him, it fell, and she took in his deep, dark color, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

“You think I’m going anywhere with you, you’re severely mistaken”, she said.

“I thought you wanted to know the truth”, Mal said innocently, and tilted his head.

“Truth about what? There’s too many things messed up to know clearly what you mean”.

“What if I tell you they’re all connected? Your gape in the head, and Damon going on a killing spree, and…” he paused, puzzled, “uh… that…” he closed his eyes, ruining the mysterious allure. He was trying to recall a name again. “That dude… Ma… Mutt?”

“Mal, fucking hell”, she threw her hands up, “Matt, his name was Matt, and he was one of my best friends”.

Mal nodded, seeing that she wasn’t joking anymore. Y/N stepped away and went to the window to open the curtains and let some more light into the room.

“Why don’t you jump out of your pj’s and put something on, so that we can go? It won’t be too nice in the town for the next ten hours or so”.

She turned abruptly.

“What do you mean?”

Mal shrugged again.

“I will honestly strike you on the head if you don’t stop talking in riddles”.

Mal licked his lips, and she finally saw, as the street light fell on him, that his jaws were pressed together. His eyes were dark because he was pissed, even though he smiled, even though his voice was close to normal, the usual. There was a time bomb inside his head, and she could all but hear the ticking behind his eyes.

“Listen, I don’t have time to chat you up, okay?” he said, and it sounded like he was a stranger. Y/N’s instincts kicked in, and she grouped standing at the window, like a small animal. As Mal moved towards her, her brain made a crazy attempt to convince her crawling out of the window will be a good idea.

When he grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, she could feel the zip again, that happened occasionally. He always wore synthetic shirts, and she got quite used to it. She never even brought it up, and now suddenly, it was clear as day that she should have. There were no accidents with Mal. This weird itchy feeling when he touched her, meant something and he knew about it, too. She was startled for a second, then she tried to kick out, but his fingers wrapped around her forearm decisively.

“I gave you a chance to change, now you gotta ride all the way to Georgia in your sleeping shirt”.

She didn’t know how he managed to drag her down the stairs, but when she blinked, they were already standing at the driveway. Mal walked towards her car taking her keys out of his pocket.

“Get in, we’re going”.

“What have I gotten into”, she mumbled, approaching the car and opening the door slowly. “You’re too strong for a normal dude, you know that?”

Mal smiled shortly as if she complimented him.

“I’m not a normal dude though, am I?”

He started the car quickly and drove out into the street. Mal usually refused to get behind the wheel if Y/N was willing to drive. He even whined a little about having to drive when she got too drunk to do it. Now, he looked as if he’s been the most experienced driver. The wheel was calm and obedient under his hand, and it felt like betrayal, too. Like she didn’t know him at all. Y/N looked at him, the side of his face, the upturned nose and focused eyes, and thought that it wouldn’t surprise her if his whole personality was a lie, too.

“What’s happening with the town? Are the guys alright?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he frowned childishly, his eyebrows gathering together. “I just don’t want you to be there when it comes down, obviously. The FBI guys have returned, apparently, and they’re determined that Damon has killed everybody… which I fully support”.

“You know damn well he hasn’t killed anybody”, Y/N bumped her fist into his shoulder and he didn’t budge.

“How do you know? You’re so brainwashed by him”, Mal threw.

“That’s far from truth”, she muttered, checking the pockets of her pants. As he was dragging her out of the room, she was still holding her phone in her hand. Millennials, am I right?

“Where’s the damn phone”, she said to herself, frustrated. Mal drove out into the main street and sped up, clearly wanting to get out of the town soon. She put both her hands into her pockets and checked the seat.

“Where’s my phone, Mal?”

“I have it”, he tapped himself on the chest pocket of his jean jacket. Y/N blinked with one eye; it was more like a twitch.

“Give it back”.

She realized he had slipped his hand into her pants while they were walking down the stairs.

“To do what?”

“Give it back, you tricky bastard”, she leaned over and grabbed him by the hand free of the wheel.

“Whoa! Calm down, psycho”, Mal grinned and pushed her back gently. “What do you need it for? It’s the middle of the night, everybody’s asleep”.

“I need to call Elena to make sure she’s alright! Do they even know the FBI… whatever they are, are in town?”

“Of course. I learnt it from them”, Mal said shortly. They were now straight on the highway leading out of Mystic Falls. The town is that small. A couple of streets, weaving inside like spider guts, a park, a square, and that’s it. A little place to live, really. It closes your mind, clogs your imagination. One can easily go crazy here.

“I was at the Craze, then the blonde slow vamp, Carrie, runs in, and her eyes are like, this big, and she says the tol and the smol are back. And I’m like, so what? And she’s like, they’re onto Dean! And I’m like, good for them, you know? Carrie is all flustered. But he’s our friend, and he didn’t kill anybody… while he totally did”, Mal shrugged. Y/N closed her eyes, irritated at his intentional name mess. He has established his dominance enough times already. There’s no need to purposefully diminish them every time, to remind her he doesn’t feel too psyched about the gang.

“And I was all, hm, there might be confrontation, so how about I take you away, yeah? It’s their own problems, let them deal with the feds themselves”, his face lit up a little, “they’re big vampires now after all”.

“I’m involved in that as well”, Y/N hissed, “you know? One of the vampires, before they all died at Craze, refused to bite me, which is a nonsense for a young vampire”.

“Oh”, he frowned a little, “then it’s all the better to take a break, right?”

She hit the back of the seat hard, looking at the dark ribbon of the road lying ahead. Her bare feet were rubbing against each other. Mal started fidgeting with the audio system and actually had the audacity to take out her phone from his pocket to connect it to the player.

“Unblock it”, he said, and it sounded more like an order. She rolled her eyes and, as he handed the phone to her, tried to grab it away from the guy. His fingers were worse than ironlike clutch of death.

“Hey, don’t be funny. Listen, I don’t mean anything to happen to you, okay? I’m just taking precautions”.

There was the familiar rectangular dark shape which was the sign with the name of the town. As the music hit the car, Mal stretched his neck a little, tilting his head from side to side, and she felt a strong desire to make him open up. She just wanted him to trust her enough to tell all. To not play anymore. It’s not that she’ll run, because there’s something wrong with him. She just needs to know to own him completely. Maybe it was crazy, too early for commitment like that, but her flaring nostrils told her she’s cooked enough.

There were cars on both sides of the road, but she couldn’t make them out properly as her own car sped past them. She turned her head back and caught the glimpse of people starting to gather on the road behind them, as if they had been expecting her car to pass, to close the way. One car moved forward and stopped right in the middle, blocking the way out of Mystic Falls.

She looked at Mal, wishing to hell he glances back, and she got severely disappointed, because when he did, there wasn’t a shred of sympathy for her distress. Her gut feeling got much worse though. It looked like a trick now, less like him acting on impulse. Mal understood it, seemingly. He shrugged off his playfulness and was completely serious now.

“I lied to you once”, he said.

I’m not myself

I’m not myself when you’re around, no

Can’t be helped,

the song chanted. He spoke calmly, his head swaying a little as if his neck was a light balloon string.

“I did steal your chain. I wanted to have a part of you with me at all times. Take it”, he lifted his elbow and opened his chest pocket. “Don’t fucking touch your phone”.

Y/N felt her whole body tense, the freeze so deep her skull got stung for a second, like she all turned into a stone.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll break your arm”, he said.

She kept looking at his absent stare he was radiating onto the road. It’s like he wasn’t watching where he was driving at all, like he was inside somewhere. That’s a powerful stunt, demanding something from a person without even looking at them. She put out her hand out of curiosity and slid her fingers into his pocket. It was warm on the inside, the heat was coming from his body. Very normal human heat. Something stopped her, either the fear of pain, or the fear that this pain will be inflicted by Mal. Her fingers brushed over the lukewarm smooth screen of her phone, and she felt the pricky chain of her necklace. She pulled it out, and looked at it, mesmerized. Mal finally glanced at her.

“Was Martha Hopps ever your girlfriend?” she asked.

“No”, she shook his head, “I wouldn’t do you like that”.

Y/N looked back again and clutched her necklace in her fist. Her other hand crawled to the handle of the door. Mal was speeding no less than fifty miles on the highway. She pulled the handle and pushed the door with her shoulder, grouping and closing her eyes. The song was filling the interior of her car. It was called ‘halfway dead to me’ and now she thought, right before throwing herself on the road and potentially killing herself, that even the music they listened to together should have communicated some message she’s missed.

It happened very quickly, as the door flew open, and the wind brushed over her violently; the sound of the highway being eaten by the wheels of the car. The dark sky, a starless back dome above; she was almost out, in the air, when his hand grabbed her by her neck and pulled back into the car so hard she collided with Mal and hit her thigh. The door of the car closed by itself with a bash and the music blasted her head like a baseball bat. Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her jaws together to withstand the pain. When it let go, she moved herself in the seat and shook her head.

“You could’ve killed yourself!” he yelled, sincerely frustrated. The car swayed as he returned both hands to the wheel. She has never seen him scared before, and it baffled her. Mal gave her a wide-eyed stare. “What is happening inside your goofy head?!”

“You’re not human!” she cried in return.

“Duh!”

She punched his shoulder once again to see that he doesn’t mind the mild pain. He barely noticed.

“You’re a vampire”.

Mal sniffed with displeasure.

“You only pulled this to test me? What if I hadn’t caught you?!”

“But that’s… that doesn’t make any sense. You walk in the sun and you eat all the time, and… others didn’t smell you”, she was still panting from the jump. Her neck ached from the stiff clutch he performed on her. In fact, Mal grabbed her so hard it felt like he was about to tear her head off completely. She rubbed her throat and the back of her neck with both hands.

“And you entered my house, without an invitation”, she finished. Mal sighed, turning the music down a little. She was still very aware of the songs that were playing. They always listened to this one playlist, which she had no memories of compiling. The title, the combination of the songs, the cover was inexplicable to her. These six months were so frustrating even this screaming oddness felt more like it was meant to be. Now she realized it was the only playlist she ever heard Mal play. And the fact that it was titled ‘douche’…

“That’s because I’ve already been there before”, he said, nonchalantly. He didn’t need to say it, she already knew.

“Malivore is in Georgia, huh”, she said. Diving deep into the seat, she looked on the path they were traveling again. Finally realizing is so liberating it’s hard to describe. For a moment, it felt like the car was completely silent.

The whole attraction thing, Mal knowing ways to get to her, the music, the movies, the manners… the mutual trust which is virtually impossible among people like him… the nights and days she felt lost, when she felt like there was a piece of her brain missing and the gaping hole whistling in the wind. The pink sky reminding her of something it couldn’t utter in human language, and the sucking, sad, tragic tunnel pulsating in her guts – all this meant she was broken over losing somebody at the shore of the sea of oblivion.

“You know how you had that strange feeling you missed somebody? And thought it was Matt?” he said with disgust. Y/N had no energy to say anything, crashed down by the powerful feeling of loss once again, all coming down at once, like she was pulled away right from her skeleton. She was looking at this stranger sitting next to her, trying to fit him into the frame of the new found truth, and he didn’t match. And that was the part of it.

She finally knew who she’s been crying about those weeks, when she would collapse on the floor of her room suddenly, startled by the outburst, confused by even why the tears are coming. The long nights she spent agonizing, - and she’d never told anyone, not even Elena – over something, crouched under the cover, seized by terror, like something was impaling her – now she knew why. Her chest got hard and narrow, and she put the hand to her throat.

“You’re the guy he threw into the Malivore”, she finally said. Mal nodded. The world was tearing apart; she could see the tear line up above, so clearly. It was fucking crumbling down in pieces. Only Damon – only that bastard could ever think of that. Of throwing someone into oblivion to erase them completely.

She might have whimpered, because Mal slowed the car down, concern on his face, and they stopped in the middle of the road. The night highway was empty and hollow, and when she left the car, almost crawling out, she noticed there were stars after all. Just very far away. Unreachable.

She felt the light movement of air on her cheek that was burning up, like the rest of her body. The road was long, leading away into the dark patch of space where the street lightning failed and gave in. The fields were quiet around them, night fog falling slowly to wrap them in its deadly embrace. The wind cried, get inside! Be safe! But the blue twilight of the forest in the distance felt like a mount of doom approaching. You couldn’t hide from it in the car. She couldn’t figure out now why she was crying. She felt so robbed; she felt like somebody had the audacity to come and tear her heart out, and now, the worst thing, she couldn’t feel anything because it was the heart she lacked. She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to Mal. A cautious look thrown at him found him on the other side of the hood, watching her carefully. It was as if he was afraid to approach. Maybe he thought she was too delicate, or was actually afraid.

“How…” she tried her voice, and it let her down. Only whisper came out. “How did you get out?”

Mal circled the car slowly, without hurry. There were no more sounds, just the music from the car, and his steps. Mal touched her shoulders and made her focus on him, shooting right into her eyes. He was being very dramatic.

“I crawled back to you. Wouldn’t even be the first time. Remember how I got out of hell?”

In a second only she realized that there’s a smirk crooking his dirty mouth. He enjoyed his little joke.

“Oh, of course you don’t. Sorry”.

Her hands grabbed on Mal’s elbows and she pressed herself into his chest. It’s fucked up how memories are nothing. How not having the essential information makes you lose your head as you try to understand why you trust a person you don’t know so much; why you intuitively know he’ll do no harm to you; how you’re attracted to him. His smell was familiar now, almost vital. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and felt a heavy sigh that left his body. Mal hugged her back, putting his chin on the top of her head.

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you. I’ll show you everything, I know how. I have so much to tell you… honey”.

All those days, and she cried in vain. And now she knew what she cried for. And that is so unfair her throat is about to burst with rage. Only Damon…

“I’m going to kill him”, she said gravely, all of a sudden. She could hear his heart now, too. Beating like there’s no special vampire force in it. Mal sighed again.

“It was their collective decision”.

She stepped back to look him in the face.

“What?”

“They were all on it”, he repeated. It was hard to hide the joy in his voice, like he was bringing good news. She knew now how to filter it. She knew he can’t control it.

“Even Elena?”

He rolled his eyes a little.

“Even Elena”.

Mal pulled her on the elbow gently as she started crying again.

“I’ll fix everything, I promise. Hey, they’re paying for it right now”.

With a shaking hand, she clutched his, and squeezed it.

“Mal, please… please, don’t…”

His face went hard.

“I don’t get it. Do you want to punish them or not?”

She moaned. She was holding on to his hand because the knees almost gave in. She could literally feel sanity leaving her, from the little hole in her temple. She was going mad.

“Mal…”

“It’s Kai by the way”, he added, harshly. “Kai Parker. Look at me. You know, this is what I never really understood. You’re so clearly upset, and it makes me very happy… I mean, like, not in a way that I like to see you hurt, but… well, you get it. But you still want to protect them? You were never able to make the choice, you know?”

Seeing that she is not able to object, he went on.

“Quite honestly, that’s hurtful. You know, after everything I’ve been through… you know, you have been the only person ever that didn’t hate me outright. You know? I always thought that maybe you will be the first person who chooses me over everybody else. Is that a lot to ask? I don’t know. Is it? Do you know that I spent more time searching and fighting for you since we met than actually being with you?”

“Mal, you’re hurting me”.

“It’s Kai. I am Kai. You call me Kai, because it’s my name”, he snapped, “it’s the only fucking thing I still have left. And you know who’s to blame for it? Your friends. The bunch of…” he sucked the air through his teeth. His hands were doing the opposite of what he was saying, holding her, rubbing her shoulders so that she doesn’t get cold. Maybe he held her too tightly. She yelped a little with pain, and he almost let go. Pressing his forehead close to hers, he whispered,

“This time I have made that choice for you, okay? Clearly, you need my help. I will never leave you, baby, never. You will be with me forever now, okay? Don’t worry. We’re not drifting away anymore, I won’t let it happen ever again”.

She shivered. As they kissed, she wasn’t sure who’s kissing whom. She knew she wanted it, and at the same time, in her mind, the sirens were going off, wailing like the apocalypse was banging on the walls of her consciousness. She was almost sure she knew what was happening in Mystic Falls.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #tvd imagine #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries #legacies #whitmore guy

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a-winchester-fairytale · 4 years

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Imagine Dean locking you in a cellar to protect you...

Dean x Reader Word Count: 750ish Warnings: little frustration, little snarky, (it’s meant to be light)

A/N: Please feel free to let me know what you think :) Hope you are having a good weekend.

It wasn’t your first hunt with Dean. It wasn’t even the first one without Sam along. As you made your way quietly through the building, looking for clues, you suddenly felt Dean grab you and pull you back.

“What the hell are you….” Your demands were cut short by Dean’s hand placed tightly over your lips. Angrily you struggled against him, but his strength was greater than you expected.

“Shhh…” He hushed into your ear. Before you could respond, you heard the heavy steps outside the door and allowed Dean to pull you backwards, farther into the shadows. He slowly removed his hand from your mouth as soon as you stopped struggling.

“Is that them?” You whispered and he nodded. “Then what are we doing hiding in here. Let’s take care of this now before it’s too late.”

“Don’t worry. I plan on it.” He said, stepping in front of you and slipping out of the door quicker than you knew he could move.

You stepped forward to follow him, gun raised, but when you reached for the door handle, it wouldn’t turn.

“Oh, you didn’t…” You whispered, shaking your head in disbelief. “When I get out of here, you are going to get it…” You whispered, shaking your head at his audacity.

You heard a crashing sound and shouting on the other side of the door and struggled fruitlessly to shake the handle loose. You jumped when you heard gunshots and froze for a moment, listening closely for any sound that would tell you if Dean was alright. When you didn’t hear anything else, you looked around and noticed an air vent in the ceiling. Sliding a chair under it so you could knock it loose, you were pulling yourself up into it when Dean opened the door to the room from the outside.

“I knew you were clever enough to get out of here if you had enough time.” He said. You dropped back down, un-amused by the smirk you saw on his face.

“Dean Winchester! How dare you lock me in here. What the hell were you thinking?” You snapped at him.

“I was thinking, I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” He answered, a little hurt at your hostility.

“That isn’t your decision to make.” You said, pushing past him out of the room. “And I can handle myself just fine.” Your words echoes behind you as you stormed outside.

Dean rolled his eyes, following back to the impala. “Look, I just wanted to protect you, alright?” He argued.

“You wouldn’t have done that to Sam, or Jody, or any other hunter.” You accused, more hurt than anger in your voice. “Why do it to me? Do you honestly think I can’t take care of myself?”

“No, it’s not that.” He answered, looking away and running his hand through his hair in obvious frustration.

“Then what is it?” You insisted, refusing to get in the impala until he answered you. Dean sighed, shutting the door again and stepping in front of you. You simply crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow, “Well?”

“it’s because I care about you!” He shouted. He took a few steps until he was right in front of you and he reached out to put his hands on your shoulders as he calmly added, “and not in the same way I care for Sam, or Jody, or any other hunter.”

You gazed up into his green eyes as the weight of what he was saying sank down over you. In all the times you had been around Dean, you had never realized that he might have feelings for you as more than a hunter and a friend.

“I’m sorry I locked you in that cellar.” He whispered, his hand reaching up to cup the side of your face.

You wanted to stay angry, but you felt yourself relaxing and a warm sensation filled your chest. Instead, you smiled up at him.

“Well, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” You replied, raising your eyebrow. Dean laughed.

“That sounds more like a prize than a punishment.” He told you, leaning down to kiss you. “And I have a feeling I’m going to like serving time for this.”

“Let’s just say you’ll know exactly what you will be missing if you ever lock me up to keep me out of a hunt again.” You answered.

Read more from my Masterlist here

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#dean x reader #supernatural #spn #spn family #fanfiction #dean winchester #fanfic #fluff #crack #oneshot #imagine #locked up #funny #hunter

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blxssom-221 · 5 years

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Supernatural season 15 episode 9 thoughts (SPOILERS)

Let’s start with the things that had me flailing my arms:

JACK KLINE AND BILLY!!!

I REPEAT J A C K K L I NE & B I L L Y!! MY CHILD IS BACK! I REPEAT MY CHILD IS BACK!! (I mean like I knew he would be back but it’s been like weeks since I saw him sooo...)

Supernatural: the only show where you will find people hating on God but loving Satan’s kid and death

I mean can you think about?! Freaking death herself and a nephilim teaming up together to take down Chuck? What. A. Powerful. Freaking. Duo!!

After all that crazy, intense stuff that was happening, seeing Jack at the end of the episode was a FREAKING WIN!!

I didn’t realized how much I missed that nougat loving child until I saw him

“Dean. You asked what about all of this is real? WE ARE”

“After what happened, I don’t know what’s real anymore” Saileen kiss “I KNOW THAT WAS REAL”

“JUST STOP BEING SO STUPID” 😂

I think I just found my new kink...

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Castiel was once a SOLDIER THAT has led an ARMY. I’m so glad that these past few episodes shows how much of a badass Cas really is and how he’s not willing to take Dean’s bullshit anymore

Like you go sweetheart! You’re doing amazing!!👏🏻👏🏻

And also...

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DID YOU SEE T H E I R E Y E S?!?!?!

DEAN WAS SO HAPPY AND RELIEVED TO SEE HIM!

When Dean called Cas his “best friend” while praying to him, I was just like: okay... okay, whatever. This is why I wear a permanent clown mask. Bestfriend my ass...

(“Just friends”, huh? Well “just friends” don’t steal secret glances at each other. “Just friends” don’t get jealous when the other one talks about someone else. “Just friends” don’t get butterflies from each other. “Just friends” don’t hold each other like that. “Just friends?” Yeah right.)

But then again, (and this is the clown mask talking) sometimes best friends are often linked to friends-to-lovers trope and “my husband/wife is my best friend”

Doesn’t make sense, yea I know, but like I said clown mask

At least we got a somewhat love declaration from Dean

That prayer... OMG

I was on the edge of my freaking seat the whole time! I mean that was some intense level of fanfiction over there

Destiel really graduated from eye-fucking to eye-lovemaking

(I’m surprised the empty didn’t take Cas right then and there but thank goodness it didn’t)

When Dean FINALLY acknowledges his anger as his flaw, that was freaking refreshing! He finally understands that his anger is what pushes people away. And you know what makes me happy? That is Cas that made him realize how his anger affects the people around him

Now the things that made me ball my eyes out/shout into oblivion:

While watching Chuck slowly strip Sam’s hope away from him, I felt so angry but I mostly felt sadness

Because this is Sam, guys! This is the guy who who always see the light at the end of the tunnel, the one who always fought for his family and friends when they couldn’t.

Now all he probably feels is despair. But I have hope still

God may be powerful but he isn’t that powerful enough to break Sam Winchester

Speaking of God, WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK HE IS USING OUR SWEET EILEEN LIKE A PUPPET?!

SOMEBODY HOLD ME BACK CAUSE IMMA SNATCH THIS HOE’S WEAVE

That prayer and hug scene... I-I have no words for that... Jensen Ackles deserves an Oscar award

If you think about it, a part of Dean probably thought Cas was dead and can you imagine how shattered he must’ve felt while searching for him? Like you saw how desperate he was. He’s mind was solely focused on Castiel.

To find him, make sure he’s alive, kind of paralleling their first time in the Purgatory. He saw he only had two min. left and any other person would’ve ran back to the portal so they wouldn’t get stuck and plan another way to get that flower.

But not if it’s Cas. Dean would not be able to stomach it if Cas died or if he left him with their relationship still in a rocky place. You saw that he was ready to stay. He wanted to stay because, like the last time, his basic instinct came forward. There’s no life on earth without Cas

(Plus when Sam saw the future, you saw how depressed Dean became, how he felt there’s no point in fighting anymore since Cas died and he had to bury him. Second time that happened.)

BENNY!!!

ANOTHER REASON WHY I WAS EXCITED FOR THIS EPISODE WAS THAT WE MIGHT SEE BENNY

BUT WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM? HE DIED

CAN MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS STOP DYING?! THE AUDACITY!!!

I’M STARTING TO THINK DEATH IS THE NEW TREND THESE DAYS

Also...

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FUTURE?!?!

I will RIOT if the big finale ends with Team Free Will’s work being worthless and them turning into monsters to kill their friends

Oh, and another thing...

WHAT TYPE ANGSTY FANFIC IS THIS?!

And this is basically him saying that he would’ve stayed even after just saying that he needs to move on if Dean would’ve just STOP HIM!!

I need a drink...

Conclusion

I feel like Jack (and Cas) is the key to defeating Chuck. I created this post a few days back, but to summarize it, I feel like Jack will bring paradise back on earth similar to what Cas’ vision showed him by defeating Chuck and getting rid of all those demons and monsters Chuck released on earth.

And Castiel, he was never part of Chuck’s stories, same with Jack. He keeps on not including them to his stories, it’s like they don’t even exist in his mind. But they keep coming back. Especially Cas. He’s the one who’s been defying destiny and doing the complete opposite of what was expected of him.

The rebellious angel

And it looks like Jack is following in his footsteps.

Jack is supposed to be dead. I’m pretty sure Chuck isn’t expecting for him to return but with the help of Billy, he will and he’s going to be a big part to defeating Chuck.

Another thing I want to conclude with...

Dean’s biggest fear is losing Cas. For years, he had done nothing but direct his anger to Cas and take him for granted, even though I know what sometimes he doesn’t mean to.

But every time, Cas came back. He just bows his head and takes it. But not anymore. He stood up to Dean and left because it was what was best for him. He knows his worth and he’ll no longer be treated badly by Dean.

But of course Cas will still end up coming back. He’ll still help and everything but doesn’t mean he’ll just easily let Dean get away with what he did. That’s why he’s so distant. He’ll forgive Dean, of course he will but first he’ll have to own up to his mistakes

And Dean? He realized this. It took losing Cas to realize how much of a jerk he’s been. And whether be it the past, present or future, losing Cas will shatter him. (As seen in the future, how he felt like there’s nothing left to fight for)

It’s kind of bittersweet how Sam has lost all hope and this time it’s Dean who’s keeping that faith alive between them

I also hope Michael/Adam and Amara and Queen Rowena helps Team Free Will 2.0

Just imagine how powerful and badass they would be

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fanficimagery · 6 years

Text

Imagine being the one angel Lucifer has a soft spot for, but after being cast out he has no way to contact you. What he hadn't realized was that you were cast out too, but God hid you as punishment. Now the Winchesters have learned of your existence and plan to use you as leverage.

@jho-p-e said to fanficimagery: Hello! I just came across your tumblr a few days ago and I absolutely LOVE it! May I request an imagine where the reader is Lucifer's (supernatural) weakness or the only angel that he has a soft spot for because she rebelled with him against God. Instead of Michael putting her in the cage with Lucifer, God hides her in a coma-like state somewhere on Earth. The Winchesters find her and want to use her to their advantage but Lucifer finds out.

Gen Fic X Reader

Seeing Michael and Lucifer bicker had become something of the norm, but after being entrusted with the Mark to keep the Darkness imprisoned the bickering became rather more hostile. Then Father had to go and create new children, and then had the audacity to command all of Heaven to love his new children more than Himself. Lucifer had downright refused, but you'd given them a chance. And after watching over Father's new creations, you came to the conclusion that Lucifer was right- the humans were flawed and murderous, and there was no way you could love them more than Father.

Lucifer had always been one of your favorites, if not the favorite, so it was no surprise you immediately had his back when he challenged Father. The two of you refused to love Father's new children and even recruited other angels which kick started a small rebellion. But Father was not having any sort of power struggle in his home and commanded Michael to cast Lucifer out of Heaven.

"Father, stop this," you plead. "Don't cast him out. Don't take Lucifer from me."

Father smiles sadly, reaching out and cupping your cheek in hand. "I am sorry, my daughter, but it must be done. Lucifer is too proud to see reason. He seeks to corrupt-"

"He seeks to corrupt because of you! You gave him the Mark and you know it's the Mark which made him more bold in his actions," you cry. "Please, Father, I beg of you- don't send him away."

"It is done." The words are like a slap to the face, you flinching back at their utterance. "And had you not been Lucifer's shadow, I wouldn't have to send you away either."

Your grace seems to run cold at his words. "Father?"

"I must go away for a bit, daughter, and Michael seeks to eradicate any and all angels who were in league with Lucifer. I love you and I will not have Michael harm you. But to do so, you must be far from Heaven."

"Father, no." You take a cautious step back, putting a bit of space between you. "As much as I love Lucifer and would be glad to be with him, Heaven is my home."

"I see no other way. " Tears prick your eyes and Father chuckles quietly. "You emote just like my other children, yet you refuse to see it." He quickly closes the gap between you, wiping away your tears as he then cradles your face between the palms of his hands. "I wish you could live as my other children live, but Lucifer will only find you and I can't have that. Lucifer must be punished and if that means I must hide you, I will."

A sob rips free from your throat and Father calmly shushes you as he gathers you in his arms. "P-Please."

"Do not fret. You won't feel a thing."

And with a kiss to your forehead, everything goes dark.

Sitting around the bunker, Sam, Dean, and Jack are trying to come up with a way to finally get rid of Lucifer. The devil has been a thorn in their side for far too long and they've had enough of being accosted by his pet demons.

Castiel returns sporting a solemn expression and Dean sighs upon spotting it. "What'd you find out, Cas?"

"From the looks of it, Lucifer is no longer interested in kidnapping his son."

Sam perks up a bit in his seat. "That's good. Right?"

Castiel frowns. "Not necessarily. He intends to finally kill you and Dean, and myself, and leave Jack no other option but to go to him for guidance. Then take over the world by any means necessary." Dean scoffs as Jack sinks in his seat. "But-"

"But?" Sam perks up again. "But what?"

"I.. found out something that would be of great importance to Lucifer- something that could change everything. I.. I'm not even sure how to feel about this myself. Y/N was- is my sister and I thought-"

"Y/N?" Dean wonders. "Focus, Cas. What's so important about this Y/N chick?"

Cas' shoulders droop as he settles himself into a chair next to Jack who's watching him curiously. "Y/N was an angel in Lucifer's garrison. She quickly became his favorite and the two of them- they were inseparable," he says, remembering the angel fondly. "When Lucifer started his rebellion, it wasn't a shock to see Y/N at his side. What was a shock, however, was that she kept him in check as best as she could. He always listened to her, but the Mark he bore corrupted him too much and Y/N could only hang on for the ride."

"What happened to her?" Sam asks, his interest piqued.

"When Michael cast out Lucifer, Father went to Y/N. We were told she died fighting in Lucifer's name, but it's come to my attention that Y/N is alive and Earth-bound."

"What?" Dean's brow furrows. "How long has she been here?"

"Since the day Lucifer was cast out. According to my sources, Father cast out Y/N to keep Michael from killing her. He put her in a coma and cloaked her existence from Lucifer. It was part of his punishment to never be reunited with the one angel he loved above all else."

"Wait, but I thought angels didn't have.. relations," Sam says, suddenly uncomfortable. Dean coughs and pointedly stares at Jack, and Sam rolls his eyes. "I know Lucifer fathered Jack, but he procreated with a mission in mind. He didn't do it for love."

"Sam is correct," Castiel confesses. "The love between Lucifer and Y/N was not romantic, but rather on the platonic side of things. However, it's a love I've never seen before. You'd have to witness it to understand."

"What are you gettin' at, Cas?" Dean sighs. "Are you suggesting we find this comatose angel? Use her against Lucifer?"

Jack clears his throat. "But how would we find her? If she's cloaked from Lucifer, it's safe to say she's cloaked from everyone else as well."

"We could ask Rowena," Sam suggests. "If it's something to use against Lucifer, she'll help."

"Great. Just great," Dean scoffs. "We finally have something solid to use against Lucifer, but we need help from the Wicked Witch of the West. What's to say Rowena won't kill her the second she finds her? She hates Lucifer. She'll want to see him suffer."

"It won't come to that," Castiel says. "Though Y/N was on Team Lucifer, she is still my sister. We find her, wake her, and tell her what's going on. She might not be too fond of humans, but she doesn't want to see Earth completely razed to the ground. If Lucifer remains unchecked, then that's exactly what will happen."

"Awesome," Dean deadpans. "Not only do we have to work with a witch, but now we have to make a deal with the devil."

Sam shrugs. "If it means Earth is safe and Jack remains with us, then who cares? I'll go make that phone call and you.. you do something to keep yourself busy. We have an angel to find."

Sprawled across his throne, Lucifer watches as his demons mill about the room. Lately they've been tasked with luring the Winchesters out of their bunker and away from their little watch dogs that are Castiel and his son Jack, and so far not one demon has come up with a solid plan.

The doors open and a demon wearing a male meat suit in a crisp black suit enters. He walks up to Lucifer's throne before stopping short and bowing in greeting. "My liege, the Winchesters and their pet angel appear to be on the move."

"Oh? And pray tell what monster of the week has piqued their attention enough to get them to leave the safety of their dungeon?"

"It is not an monster, but an angel."

"Oh?" Lucifer sits up, interest now piqued. "Do tell."

"It's some angel that God has kept hidden for many years. The demons watching that witch of yours overheard a conversation in which they need her to uncloak the angel and wake her. They say her name is Y/N."

Instantly, Lucifer's smile vanishes. "What did you just say?"

The demon gulps. "That R-Rowena is needed-"

"No, I got that," Lucifer says. "I meant about the angel's name. What is her name?"

"Y/N."

Lucifer blinks, his expression going stony. "Get every demon available to tail the Winchesters. No one is lay a finger on that coma angel. Go. Now!"

The demon's eyes flicker black in his sudden fear. "Y-Yes, my liege." And with yet another quick bow, the demon flees as if the hounds of Hell were on his heels.

Pacing the dais, Lucifer inhales deeply and exhales slowly. Glancing skyward, he sneers. "Congrats, Dad, you really are a dick. She loved you as much as she loved me. What did Y/N ever do to be granted such a fate?" He's not expecting an answer, but it still frustrates him beyond measure and he screams his frustration at the ceiling. His demons startle, but he pays them no mind. "I will find her. And when I do, I will not stop her from wanting to hunt you down and giving you a piece of her mind.

Jolting awake, it takes a moment for your sight to focus and when it does you frown at the man leaning over you. Concentrating, you can feel the hum of grace surrounding the meat suit and subtly relax. "Castiel," you breathe, smiling.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

Slowly sitting up, you shrug before the last thing you remember pops up into the forefront of your mind. You tense and hop off the table you'd been on, you then twisting and turning and glancing at the startled appearances of the room's other occupants. "Where's Father? He said- He cast-"

"We know." Castiel interrupts, solemnly nodding. "Father hid you from everyone and told us you were killed in battle. His cloaking started to fail which is how some of our brothers and sisters found out about you. I'm here now. You're safe."

Your brow furrows. "His cloaking started to fail? Castiel, how long has it been?"

"Y/N, don't-"

"The year is now 2019," another voice supplies. "And your beloved Lucifer has gone off the rails. We need you to put him in check or-"

"Or what?" You sneer, glancing at male human who dared speak to you that way. The guy puffs up in indignation, but the taller male human with shaggy hair puts a hand on his shoulder. You let your gaze pass over them with a scoff, only then to settle on the youngest male of the group. He appears rather young, but the aura of grace radiating off of him is unsettling. "You," you say. "Who are you? You feel.. familiar, but I don't recall your name."

The kid gulps as he glances between everyone and you frown as Castiel steps in front of him as if shielding him from you. "This is Jack. He's.. Lucifer's son."

"W-What?" No one corrects Castiel and sensing the boy's power again, you flinch. "Nephilim."

"He's a good kid," the shaggy haired human says. "Lucifer's been trying to corrupt him, but Jack's mother left him in the care of Castiel. We- we're Hunters, but we've taken Jack under our wing as well. Lucifer won't stop until he has complete control of his son."

Your hands clench at your sides and you take a deep breath before releasing it slowly and relaxing as best as you can. "My grace is itching for a fight, but if Castiel says you're alright.. then okay." From behind Castiel, Jack flashes you a small grateful smile. Then glancing back towards the other two humans, you say, "I'm not too fond of your kind. If you want me to talk to Lucifer.. fine, but stay out of my way."

"Now listen here, you little-"

"Thank you," the shaggy haired individual cuts in, glaring at his friend. "My name is Sam and this," he says while gesturing to his obnoxious, outspoken friend, "is my brother Dean."

You nod. "Y/N. So what has Lucifer done now?"

Dean scoffs. "What hasn't he done? He's pretty much the creator of all things evil and-"

"That's not completely his fault," you defend him. "If you want someone to blame, blame your precious God." Dean huffs, muttering about how naive you are and you turn your attention to Sam. "Did Lucifer hate humans? Yes," you admit without an ounce of shame. "But his hatred for your kind was only amplified by that mark Father put on him. Had it not been for that, Lucifer and I would still be in Heaven snarking about you hairless apes."

Jack snorts and Dean turns his glare on him, Sam then nudging his brother to stop it. But before anything else can be said, the door to the room is being kicked open and people are crashing through the windows.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel shift into a fighting stance and you frown when the two humans are suddenly wielding angel blades. Angel blades were sacred objects and only angels were supposed to have them, so for these humans to have them means something must have happened to the angels assigned to them. And that- that doesn't sit well with you. Especially if the brothers had anything to do with whatever happened to your brothers and sisters for them to have blades.

Attention then brought back to the growing amount of strange individuals barging into the room, you shift towards the corner as you study them. Their auras are dark- twisted. Demons.

You sneer at the one who dares look at you and fight the urge to jump into the fray when both parties attack. Though you're capable of fighting, you've never fought without your blade and since you're not in possession of one your only option is to stand back. Sam, Dean, and Castiel slash and stab their way through the demons, but they just keep on coming. Even the nephilim helps out, he sending out his power in a wave to disintegrate the unlucky few closest to him.

One moment everyone's fighting and the next the demons are aborting the fight by fleeing their meat suits. Then just as everyone seems to let their guard down, Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Jack are sent flying back and being pinned to the walls by an unseen force. You stumble forward in surprise, eyeing the trapped individuals as a dark chuckle resonates around the room.

Whirling around, you come face to face with Lucifer. "Hello, Y/N. Long time no see."

"Lucifer," you reply on an exhale. The seconds tick by and you slowly smile, you then quickly closing the distance between the both of you. Arms wrapped tightly around his middle, you sigh in contentment as his wrap around your shoulders. "I'm so happy you're okay."

"Me too, little one." Lucifer murmurs. "When Michael cast me out, I was terrified of what might happen to you."

"So was Dad apparently. He's the one who cast me out of Heaven to keep Michael from getting his hands on me. But he still wanted to punish you, so he hid my presence on Earth."

"As touching as this chick flick moment is, we have to deal to make," Dean snarks.

One of Lucifer's arms leave you as he makes a motion with his hand and several objects clatter. When you pull free and turn around, all weapons from those pinned have fallen to the ground. "You're in no position to boss me around," Lucifer says. "If I were you, I'd keep quiet, Winchester."

Dean opens his mouth to retort, but quickly finds out he's been silence. Lucifer's taken his voice.

"Sister, please," Castiel pleads. "We can't continue on like this. You must-"

"I must?" You say, gritting your teeth. "I mustn't do anything, Castiel. I was just woken from a spelled coma your beloved Father put me in and I find myself with a rather large chip on my wing. You and your pet humans can rot for all I care."

"Y/N," Sam then says. "You said you'd talk to him. Please. Help us."

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and face Lucifer. "Your son- a son that you had with a human, which don't for one second think we won't be speaking about that later- seems like he's in capable hands." Lucifer frowns and you nudge him. "And the humans- they'll die out eventually and we can regrow Earth as it was meant to be. Until then, you and I have a lot to catch up on."

Lucifer makes a show of sighing loudly and pouting. "You take the fun out of everything, kid."

"Only when I have good reason to," you muse. "And you know I'm right. Whatever reason you have for tormenting this crew," you gesture to the ones stuck to the wall, "let it go. For now. Being separated from you felt like just yesterday, but I know it's been way longer for you. I want to know everything that's happened."

"Fine," he groans, drawling out the word. "Lets go home."

"Mhm. But wait!" Looking back around the room, you step forward until you can bend at the waist and scoop up the two angel blades beneath the Winchester's feet. Dean struggles against the force holding him and Sam grunts something unintelligible. Standing tall, you then meet both of their gazes- one furious and the other shining with reluctant acceptance for taking their weapons. "For a human to obtain an angel blade means you killed my brothers and sisters. You're very lucky I wasn't around when that happened."

"Y/N-"

"Don't, Castiel. Don't push your luck with me right now."

Lucifer chuckles and you make your way back towards him, he slinging one arm around your shoulders while mockingly waving at the everyone else with his free hand. "Adios, hermanos. Until next time."

And with a snap of his fingers, you suddenly find yourself in a room void of silly humans, the nephilim, and Castiel. Instead, you're now in a room with various demons milling about. When you grimace, Lucifer immediately sends them away and directs you to a couple of cozy looking sofa chairs. But instead of sitting in your own, you crawl into his lap and melt against him with a sigh.

"You always were really affectionate for an angel."

"You have no room to talk, Mr. I Had Intercourse with an Hairless Ape," you mumble back.

He chuckles softly and wraps his arms around you, setting his chin atop your head. "I missed you, kid. When I was told you were killed, I didn't handle it well. I did all sorts of things you would not have approved of."

"Well I'm here now. I don't know what's going on, but I don't like that Castiel was so comfortable with those two humans. What happened to him?"

Lucifer shrugs. "He's had his Grace ripped out one too many times, I assume." You shiver at that, your stomach turning at such an act. "And was forced to live as they do- to feel as they do. He went soft. And then all angels were cast out by something Metatron did-" You gasp, pulling back at staring at Lucifer with eyes full of horror, "-but they've managed to take Heaven back and get it all sorted out."

"But Metatron was only the Scribe of God. Where was Father throughout all of this?"

"Dear 'ol Dad left. Went missing. Took a vacation and never returned," Lucifer drawls. "Well, he did when the Winchesters released the Darkness," you groan, eyes rolling at their stupidity, "but then Dad grabbed his sister and left. Again."

"None of this would have happened had Father smited his beloved creations when we told him to."

"Preaching to the choir, sister." You frown at the phrase, but Lucifer merely shrugs it off. "But that's an issue for a later day. I just got you back and I have so much to tell you."

"Then you better get to talking, Luci. I have a feeling I'm going to have to get to work soon."

#fanficimagery #spn gen fic x reader #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer spn imagine #lucifer #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #jack #jack kline

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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years

Text

The Ring and The Cure: Part 8

Pairings: Crowley x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, threats, mention of past Drowley

Word Count: 1,199

A/N: Repost to spread it out the way it should be.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where we goin’ mommy?” Candice asked as you strapped her into her car seat and you smiled at her.

“We are going to the park for just a little bit and then we are going to go Christmas shopping for daddy.” She giggled as she kicked her feet in front of her.

“I thought Santa brought the presents?” She asked innocently and you laughed and nodded while you snapped the last snap.

“Santa brings presents to good little boys and girls not mommies and daddies so WE get to go pick out some things for daddy!” You bopped her on the nose the same way your mother-in-law always did and closed the car door. You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket and a wave of nausea crashed over you. You knew what you were doing was so very wrong but to hurt Crowley again all these years later with revealing the truth just seemed too cruel no matter what he had done to you. You got in the car, quickly glanced at Sam’s ‘I’m here’ message and took a big gulp of water to wash down the taste of bile in your throat.

As you drove the few minute drive, every fiber of your being told you to turn around and not have this conversation with Sam. Doing so could only end up in disaster but you had a small amount of fear that if you didn’t meet him, he would go to Crowley and say something to him himself. You didn’t know Sam from Adam but you knew Crowley had known Sam a lot longer than he had known you and you feared the worse in that situation.

As you pulled into the park, you could see Sam parked in the middle of the gravel parking lot, leaning against the hood of his car with an air of casual nervousness around him. You parked on his driver side door, fought desperately against the nervous nauseous feeling in your stomach and got out of the car to let Candice go off and play.

“We aren’t staying long Candi Cane.” You called out after as she tore across the playground toward the slides. With a heavy sigh you walked over and stood next to him so you could keep an eye on your baby girl. “So talk, Sam.” You said as the two of you watched her giggle as she climbed up the steps only to peel into fits of laughter as she slid down. When she hit the bottom, she always did a little bounce before she would dash around to the stairs giggling away to do it all over again.

“I want to be a part of this.” He said as he gestured toward the playground. “Even if it’s just once in a while.”

“Sam. We had a deal. We both knew I was most likely going back to Crowley at some point and you knew that we were a one time, never gunna happen again thing. If you wanted to be a part of this then why didn’t you say something the day you found out? All four of us could have put this to bed then?”

“I was scared, (Y/N).” He said as he glanced over at you while you shook your head slowly, not taking your eyes off your daughter and he continued. “I’m a hunter, I live a dangerous life. I know I can’t raise a kid in that lifestyle. At that time what we did was fine for her but now that she’s older…” You whipped your head over to glare at him as anger raged through you.

“Now that she’s older what, Sam? You think you can just step in and say ‘Hey, real daddy wants to come play tea party since mommy did such a good job raising you and keeping you safe with your fake daddy?’ Who the hell do you think you are?”

“That’s… ugh… that’s not what I meant to say…” you nodded sarcastically and looked back at the playground to watch Candice play with the spinning blocks to make sure she wasn’t paying attention.

“Sam, we had an agreement. Point blank; simple, and at the end of the day that agreement has had me lying by omission to my husband for the past 5 years. You think it’s hard on you to not be in her life because you saw her once at a diner a few weeks ago? Try wondering how long it’s gunna take the King of Hell to realize that his little princess is most definitely not Dean’s and that his wife has been lying to him since the day they got back together. Do you know how many times I have wanted to tell him the truth but didn’t because I was terrified what he would do to me much less what he could do to my daughter? Do you know how hard it is to look into the eyes of the man you love and tell him that you love him when you have a life changing secret about his daughter that would break his heart if he found out? Sam, if I could tell him today with a guarantee that nothing would happen to me or Candice, I would, but…”

“I always wondered how long it would take you to crack.” The sound of Crowley’s voice behind you at that moment made your stomach turn and your knees buckled nearly sending you to the ground. You stumbled and spun around to look at him as tears instantly burst from your eyes.

“Baby…” Crowley stepped toward you and shook his head.

“I’ve known. I’ve always known.” A sobbed apology escaped your throat as he wrapped you in a hug.

“How did you know?” Sam asked as he stood awkwardly in front of his car a little farther away from where he had been a few seconds before.

“Well like I told your brother, I am not stupid. She has those bloody puppy eyes of yours; royal pain in the ass, too. I knew within a few weeks of her birth and I left it alone.”

“Why?” You and Sam asked at the same time as you leaned back to look at your husband. He used his thumb to wipe away your tears and gave you a partial shrug.

“You had your reasons on why you found it necessary to make this choice. Neither of the brothers stepped up to take responsibility and I refused to lose you from my life. So I made the choice to let sleeping dogs lie, accepted that this was somehow your way of punishing me for how I treated you for years and moved on.” He whipped his head up suddenly and scowled.

“Candice! Absolutely not, get down!” He demanded and you turned around to see what your child was getting into just as she was slinking back over the thick plastic ring of the tunnel she was trying to climb on top of. “Swear that child will be the death of me.” He grumbled. You shook your head and laughed as you pulled out of his arms.

“You've been doing that shit for like 8 years and it still weirds me out every time.” You said.

“King of Hell has its perks.” He looked over at Sam, tilted his head and you could see he was slightly annoyed. “Moose, I have had five years and ample opportunities to murder you for this. Obviously I am not going to so will you quit being a nervous prat and join the conversation so I am not shouting across a playground.” Sam slinked over and leaned against the driver side door of his car as the two of you leaned against yours. The three of you stood silently before Crowley became really annoyed.

“Ok well I have much better things to do than stand around all day so let’s get on with it. Now I had this discussion with Squirrel already so here is what I propose.” He pointed at Candice who was pushing herself on the swing and he looked back at Sam. “That is my daughter. Under no bloody circumstances are you to say otherwise because she does not need to be dragged into our dysfunctional family issues.

Now, I know this little gathering today was because you wanted to see her and my wife was scared that I would find out because I always find out…” He said as he pulled out Candice’s hex bag out of his pocket and held it in front of you. You turned bright red in embarrassment as he gathered the bag in his hand and put it back in his pocket. “That is why you two for some bloody reason felt the need to hide this from me. Now, as long as my wife agrees to it we will come up with an arrangement where ‘Uncle Moose and Uncle Squirrel’ can see their ‘niece’.” He punctuated the new titles to Sam pointedly and Sam slowly nodded and looked over at Candice who you could tell was starting to get bored with no one to play with.

“Lastly, I will say the same thing to you that I said to Squirrel; Sam, look at me.” Crowley said his tone suddenly much harsher than it had been a moment before. Sam’s head whipped toward Crowley who pointed at him. “If you so much as THINK about trying to take my little girl from us and you will find your ass on a rack finding out exactly what Dean went through at Alistair's hands. You think your soul was mangled when you left Lucifer's cage; try to take our daughter and you will know what bloody mangled really looks like. Do we have an understanding?” Sam nodded rapidly and you could only begin to imagine the images that were flashing in his mind.

Crowley looked at you pointedly and you knew to stay where you were. He looked back at Sam and gave him the “come here” gesture as he headed toward the playground. You and Sam exchanged a slightly worried glance before he darted after the King of Hell. With a small smile, you watched Crowley introduce Uncle Sam (“or Uncle Moose whichever you prefer, Candi Cane”) before he simply turned and walked back to you. Your eyebrows shot to your hairline as Candice grabbed her new friend's hand and dragged his 6’4” frame toward the slide.

“You're being shockingly calm about this.” you said hesitantly and Crowley shrugged as he leaned against the car next to you; both of you watching Sam play with his daughter.

“Honestly darling I look at it this way. When we first got together I treated you horrendously and you found it in yourself to forgive and forget. Yes, you had to leave for a year or so but you still forgave without question. Now, I do not like that you lied to me at all however, you had your reasons whatever they may be. And as you did for me, I will give you the same courtesy.

Now that being said, you lie to me like this again and I will not be so generous. The same way you wouldn't be if I had the audacity to cheat on you. I shouldn't have to threaten you for that give and take, my love. We don't have the most conventional relationship kitten. We have both, pardon the pun, been to hell and back and we are still standing here in love. I consider that a positive thing at the end of the day.”

“You’re doing a good thing here.” you said as you pointed to the playground to where Sam was pushing Candice on the swing. “Who knew you had a soft spot for the Winchesters?” He chuckled and put his arm around your waist.

“Tell a soul and I will give our daughter sugar before bed for a month.”

Part 9

#Crowley x Reader #The Ring & The Cure

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ceaselessims · 7 years

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😩🍑🗡

inspired by x

Castiel jumps ten feet in the air when a loud racket of clinging medal falls down behind him. This day has been hectic enough. It’s almost time to go home and Castiel is counting down the minutes. He promised Dean he’d try LARPing but after a full day he can safely say that this just isn’t for him. Whoever is making this day even more unnecessary is going to get a mouthful.

He turns his head around, a frown pulling at his lips, to find Dean, of all people. Well, he supposes it isn’t technically Dean per say. It’s Dean’s “character,” a lonesome knight who just barely got out of being the Queen’s scullery maid. Or so Charlie says. Castiel thinks Dean’s masculinity was threatened and he begged and pleaded to be a knight. Probably on his hands and knees.

Furrowing his brow, Castiel just barely remembers to call Dean by his character name. “What is it, Damen the Righteous?” He only just manages not to roll his eyes.

A mischievous smirk plays over Dean’s lips, curling up slightly over the corners of his mouth. A glint in his eyes makes Castiel suspicious. What is he doing?

“Didn’t you see?” Dean asks, a challenge in his tone, “I’ve dropped the gauntlet.” A grand gesture, and Castiel notices the armoured plates of that thing Charlie had hung on the side of her tent.

Castiel’s frown deepens. They’re starting to draw a crowd and it’s making him slightly uneasy. What on earth is Dean playing at? What is his purpose?

“Don’t you know what that means, Stephen of the Seven Seraphs?” There’s an edge to Dean right now. He’s buzzing, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for Castiel to understand what’s going on. But in all honesty, Castiel can barely keep up with the names, let alone the rituals that the game has. If he was in a better mood, perhaps he’d remember. Now, he just doesn’t care.

“Forgive me,” he deadpans, “I have forgotten.”

The crowd that’s gathered chuckles around him. He nearly tosses his head back in a groan. A half hour. That’s all he had left. A half hour before he could go home and drink the new raspberry tea he bought the other day. A half hour before there could be such a thing as silence again. Dean is torturing him, and Castiel is sure that it is on purpose.

“It means,” Dean says, fixing Cas with another sinister grin, “That I’m challenging you. To a duel.”

For fucksake. This could not be happening right now.

“Really, Damen?” Castiel groans out dejectedly.

Dean’s grin just gets bigger. “Really.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Castiel contemplates his options. “I don’t suppose there is any way you’d be open to peace?”

“Nope.” That cheeky bastard. He know’s what he’s doing and, in this moment, Castiel hates him for it. “Rules say you gotta duel.”

Castiel resigns himself to look at him. His arms are folded across himself and his chest is puffed out. All he’s doing is making Castiel want to knock him down to his knees. Though, Castiel supposes that is the purpose of all this ruckus. On the plus side, Dean is a beautiful picture on his knees.

Fucking fine. If Dean wants a duel then he’ll get a goddamn duel.

Heaving himself off the bench, he meets Dean’s challenging gaze. For a split second he thinks he sees Dean’s facade break but then pure genuine enthusiasm encompasses his entire being, making his face split even more.

“What, perchance are the rules?” He makes a show of unsheathing his “rapier.” It’s plastic but for all intents and purposes, it is a sword. Playing with the tip, he makes a calculated step forward into Dean’s space.

“Three hits, you’re out.” Dean offers nonchalantly, as if he’s not making a huge scene out of what was supposed to be Castiel’s wind-down.

“And if I win?” Castiel asks, dragging the tip of his sword down Dean’s cheek.

Dean bends down to whisper along Castiel’s ear. “You can have my ass all night tonight, Cas, hmm? You can do anything you want with me. How does that sound?”

Castle nearly swallows his tongue at that thought. It sounds divine, and if he wasn’t so determined to make good on that promise, his joints would be weak as jello. All he can offer as an answer is a possessive growl.

A sultry chuckle escaped Dean’s lips before he drags them over the shell of Castiel’s ear. Pulling away, he looks as if he hadn’t just been propositioning Castiel in the middle of a park in front of at least twenty others. Actually, he looks as if Christmas and his birthday happened all at once.

Dean draws his own sword. “But you have to win, Cas,” he taunts, “If I win, then you have to come to every LARP event on the roster.” Castiel knows he’s bluffing. Dean would never make him to anything that he didn’t want, or that he wasn’t comfortable with. But the audacity to claim such a thing in front of so many gets Castiel’s blood boiling. It’s time to put Dean back in his place. Perhaps he should have remained a scullery maid.

With a steady grip on the handle of his rapier, Castiel postures and readies for the duel. Dean mimics him, setting into a defensive stance. It’s almost comical, as if Dean wants to lose. His left foot is completely out of balance with the entire other side of his body, his arms a little too stiff to hold his sword properly. Dean likely doesn’t notice these small miniscule mistakes, but Castiel can pick them out clear as day.

So it’s a slight surprise when Castiel’s first offensive move against him is met with a smooth deflecting. He and Dean’s eyes catch and all Castiel can see is Dean’s amusement. He thinks this is funny? Oh so it’s going to be like this, is it? He’ll see what’s fucking funny.

Castiel makes a snap forward, and catches Dean’s foot under his own, throwing his opponent off balance. Turning a one-eighty, he knocks at Dean’s offensive arm so that it clips into his own face, throwing him off balance. This gives Castiel time to turn away and bat at Dean’s side.

One.

He retreats cautiously to his starting position to give Dean time to recover.

Dean fixes himself right and raises his eyes. “You dirty bastard. Didn’t know you had it in ya.” He laughs, twirling his sword over his wrist. “Let’s try that again.”

It’s far more difficult, Castiel must confess, than he imagined sword fighting with Dean could be. He must have just been off balance on the off chance the first time, because now Castiel faces the real challenge of Dean’s movements. It seems that almost every time he thinks he has the upper hand, Dean is only just out of reach. Slight miscalculations over a set of a few minutes cost Castiel two blows to himself and only one more to Dean, leaving them with even hits.

It’s down to whoever can take the final hit. Gritting his teeth, Castiel grips the handle of his sword with fierce determination. He understands that either way this ends, Dean will still likely end up in his bed tonight. But now he’s in too deep. He has to see this play out until the end. And he is no going to lose.

This time, it’s Dean who makes the first offensive strike. Castiel easily maneuvers out of the way, causing his opponent to fall forward onto his leading foot. And it’s like that for much of this duel. A game of cat and mouse, pushing and pulling, each of them biding their time until one of them makes just a single wrong move. They’re each on the head of a pin and they know it. But Castiel has just one more Ace up his sleeve.

Backing slowly away to gain a few feets space, Castiel fixes Dean with a impish grin of his own. Dean quirks and eyebrow. “Why are you smiling, huh?”

That only causes Castiel’s insides to swell with excitement and boldness. “Because I know something you don’t, Damen the Righteous.”

“And what is that?” The talking makes Dean take one minutely weaker step on his left.

Jackpot.

“I am not right handed” Castiel declares brashley as he cradles the sword swiftly into his other hand. Dean only has a second for his eyes to bulge comically before Castiel leans into position and strikes his sword directly onto Dean’s vulnerable posterior, which then in turn throws Dean of balance, causing him to fall.

Three.

Laughs erupt from Dean and he falls into fits as he cradles the spot Castiel struck him. “Oh my god,” he rasps between breaths as Castiel only looks on, his own amusment bubbling contently in his chest, “You hit my ass.”

“Well, you did say I could do anything I wanted with it.” Castiel retorts, offering Dean his hand.

Dean accepts, but continues laughing. “Oh, touche motherfucker,” and after a beat he concedes, “Guess that means you won, huh?”

Castiel hums with pleasure, taking Dean by his waist and pulling them together. “I certainly hope so.”

“Mm,” Dean rumbles, his voice dipping into a huskier tone. “Lucky me.”

“I didn’t actually hurt you did I?”

“No, no Cas.” Dean shakes his head, “Just a little love tap is all.”

“Good,” Castiel says, dipping his free and forward to cup the safe side of Dean’s ass, “Cause I’ve got plans tonight.”

Before Dean can say anything of the lewd thoughts on his mind, they both perk up at the sound of Charlie cursing them out for “groping each other in front of the eyes of her pure citizens” and advises them to “get a room” or fear her wrath.

Once she’s done, Dean gives Castiel a resigned shrug. “Well, we should probably head back home anyway.”

“Yes,” Castiel agrees, “That’s a reasonable proposal.”

Dean holds him close, brushing their noses together. “I don’t suppose you’d want to come to this with me again would you?”

Castiel sighs. “As much fun as this was it’s just not… How do you say it? Not a chance in hell.”

Dean laughs again at that, and takes Castiel’s hand in his. “Well then we should probably get home soon. You see I have a deal to pay up for.”

Oh yes you do, Castiel thinks as he draws Dean him in for one small kiss, a promise of what it to come.

#emily answers #destiel fic #destiel #human!au #LARPing #my fic

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drjackandmissjo · 4 years

Text

try to avoid stabbing me on our next encounter, dear

Chapter 1 - Dean

next chapter

The year is 2004, somewhere in America. Dean Winchester is set on a solo hunt that doesn't look like the regular monster.Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, is also in that same small town, on a mission from Heaven. Seems easy enough, isn't it?

‘At this point, I don’t know what else could possibly go wrong' he thought to himself.

He had been on this case for more than two weeks and still couldn’t find a pattern. The ghost, if it could be called a ghost, was messy, moved from place to place, with no bones to be cremated or cursed object or anything. It reacted to salt and iron all right, although it didn’t disappear completely after being shot. It actually didn't disappear at all, bleed humanly in black goo and left the smell of rotten eggs everywhere it went. All weird crap, but in that job nothing was to be considered out of the ordinary.

With his father MIA on another hunt and with his brother out of business, he was utterly alone. He was tempted to even call Bobby, but that might’ve crossed one of the lines his father had drawn with the other hunter.

‘How can this shitty plan can backfire?’ he asked himself while looking at the papers and maps in front of him. It was a suicide mission, especially if done alone, but he had no other choice. This creature had been killing left and right, breaking every possible trail and pattern it might have used. Once was a Mexican girl of 19, then an African American man of 66, a suburban soccer mom who drove a minivan. Nothing clicked, nothing made sense. The only thing they had in common was the weirdest markings left on the floor, next to where their corpses were found. They were scorched on the ground, shaped so that they resembled feathers on wings. No book or old papyrus had any input on what that might mean. And, since he could call no one, he did what he did best: planned a battle and prayed to whoever might’ve listened that he wasn’t going to die that day.

"The hell with this!" he said out loud before exiting his motel room. One minute more and the walls would’ve eaten him alive, or he would’ve lost all his courage. He marched over to the car, a beautiful piece of machinery. For his 16th birthday his father had gifted it to him, making up for 12 years of missed birthday and Christmas presents. His Baby was everything to him, second only to his father and brother. He cherished it like it was his own child, even more. She was an extension of his soul, a part of his body. He trusted her with his life, never betrayed him once. He felt way more comfortable cramped up in the driver seat than in any spacious room.

‘Easy job, Winchester. You go in, you kill this thing, pray you don’t die in the meantime and get out’ he thought. Days and days of research led him to a possible lead. Apparently this thing needed shelter, food, sleep. It preferred alcohol and easy flirts and appeared as a very rude white guy, but when it attacked, it moved like a ghost, appeared out of thin air, as witnesses claimed. Another oddity. Ghosts don’t usually leave witnesses. No monster actually does. Which meant it was something new or extremely old. Probably the latter. With no back up and no backup plan, he arrived at the place he had looked so hard for. He had done such an in-depth work, looked for every possible possibility and watched out for anything that might’ve gone wrong; he thought, for a second, that his father could’ve been proud of him.

His first big gig alone, completely alone. And it was pretty big. He just wanted to hear those words, once in his life before it was too late. And, in their line of work, any day could've been too late. He hoped that maybe, since he had worked so hard, that might’ve been the time.

He just had to come out of there alive.

One thing he knew for sure: he was not going down without a fight.

***

“This is John Winchester. I can’t be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean, 866-907-3235. He can help.”

“Dad, it’s me. I’m closing the phone. Going in. Big gig. See you soon.” he said. He might've said something more, but he would've choked on his own words and then his father would've teared him a new one for sure.

He wasn’t feeling hopeful in the beginning and he sure felt less than alright with the plan. The more he looked into it, the more flaws he found. He reviewed it once more in his head, counted the emergency exits and the total number of bullets he had on himself. He desperately wanted to send a message to his brother, just to hear his voice in case it was the last time possible, but decided otherwise as soon as he heard his voicemail. Sammy had found his way out and he was proud of him, of what he was accomplishing all alone at Stanford. Sammy knew that and that was all that mattered.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he got out of his Baby. Nonchalantly, he moved towards the house. 'Confidence is key, Winchester.'

It was bugging him incredibly, the lack of stability of this thing: behaved like a ghost and a human, without showing signs of possession. The audacity this creature had! One thing is a ghost on a killing spree for the sole purpose of killing, but even those had a pattern, a modus operandi, a weapon of choice or even some tell tales signs.

Here? Nothing. More than the murders, that was what truly disturbed him.

‘Curtain’s rolling, Winchester. Let’s go in and kick some ass!’, his mind screamed at him. One last breath in. Game on.

***

The house was empty. No EMF nor any cold spots, which he wasn’t truly surprised of. Empty bottles of various liquors and dirty containers of different fast foods laid around the kitchen and the living room. The air was poisoned by the rather pungent smell of really gone bad eggs, like eggs whose shells had been broken months earlier and the contents were left on a dirty plate to sunbath. In other words? It smelled really bad. Some vamps' nests were cleaner and smelled better. There were residues of a fine yellow dust as well, around the rooms and the doors and the windows. The smell seemed to intensify terribly around those, maybe even more than in the rest of the house. He would’ve done some research afterwards, after leaving that disgusting place and, most importantly, after having killed the thing.

The silence was unnerving: not even a single creak of the wood of the stairs or any presence that there was someone home. That until...

The sound of broken glass came from upstairs. Followed by the usual tell-tales noises of fighting. Gun in hand and backup plan in mind in case everything went sideways, he rushed towards the nodes up the stairs, ready to fire and fight.

Adrenaline had taken hold of his body, the instinct of kicking ass kicking in.

The sight was quite singular and familiar all in one: broken pieces of furniture and glass scattered on the floor, typical; a strange cylindrical-ish shaped knife that seemed both practical and impractical at the same time, unorthodox but rather common; the body of the thing he had tracked down there with several superficial wounds that were not bleeding, although they seemed rather deep. Definitely weird and freaky.

He moved towards it, to check if it was alive or had bitten the dust, and to test it for silver or fangs or literally anything that came into his mind. Nothing tested positive. Not that he was foolish enough to believe it would.

He looked around the room for evidence, insights. Just anything that might explain what the hell was going on, really.

As predicted, besides the fresh body and the clear mess, nothing was to be find, except more of that yellow powder and awful smell. He was certain it meant something, but he just couldn’t remember what.

“What are you doing here?” a voice from behind him asked. He immediately turned around and fired three of the six bullets he had in the magazine, but they hit the door instead of crashing into a body. Whatever it was had disappeared out of thin air. Again, the first thing that popped into his mind were ghosts, but they never spoke whenever they appeared, at least to his knowledge, the room certainly hasn't dropped 30 degrees, and the voice was way too clear to belong to a spectre.

Just when he had begun to think he had just imagined it all, something materialised a few feet away from him. It was a man, around his own age, with deep blue eyes and unruly jet black hair.

“I would gladly ask you to stop using that futile weapon against me" said the man in the possibly deepest voice ever. The other three bullets flew out of his gun before he could even think about shooting, thanks to his 'shot first, question later’ training that had kicked in while his brain had decided to take a short cut at the stranger's voice, but those only hit the wall after the creature had vanished once more.

“Would you please stop firing against me?” asked again the man, this time standing rather closely into his personal space, sounding mildly irritated.

The only thing he could now do was remove his silver knife from his belt and stab the man in the chest with it. The stranger was a few inches shorter than him and the knife cut into his clothes and chest like it was butter. It drove easily and quickly and through his heart. If that thing had a heart.

“Well, this is an inconvenience.” Said the man with a slightly displeased look on his face while he effortlessly removed the knife from his own body, leaving behind a thin tearing on his shirt. There was no trace of the newly formed wound, nor of the usual flood of blood that rushes out of stab wounds directly to the chest. The man, although really couldn't even have been called a man, was simply standing there, looking down at the knife that was as clean as new with a look Dean couldn't decipher.

“Who or what the hell are you?” he asked the stranger, who slowly looked up from his hands. His eyes were even more blue up close, Dean thought.

The stranger simply tilted his head to the side, probably in confusion, and to Dean that was possibly one of the cutest scenes he had ever seen.

‘Focus Winchester. Keep thinking straight!’ his mind screamed at him.

“My name is Castiel and I am an Angel of the Lord.” He said in a manner of fact voice, the roughness of the sound stopping Dean's brain from working properly. 'Stop it, Winchester. Behave as if Dad were here and start understanding what the actual fuck is happening.' his mind fired back once more.

“Right, cause those are a thing, aren’t they?” Dean asked sarcastically, moving a few steps back. “Aren’t you, like, supposed to have chubby cheeks and puffy wings and blinding halos? Cause all I see is a 30 something dude dressed like an accountant. Not exactly angelic material.”

“This is Jimmy Novak. He accepted to be my vessel for this mission and he, indeed, is 31 and those are his work clothes. And I believe he would disapprove of you slicing his shirt."

“So, what? You’re wearing him while he wears a trench coat?”

Again that head tilt. Dean’s brain was short-cut, again. ‘Damn it, Winchester. There’s an angel in front of you and you’re both believing this son of a bitch and not killing him. That’s bad.’

“I suppose by your level of sarcasm that you are a hunter. By your weaponry as well.” The angel said while slowly twisting the blade between his hands. The only thing Dean could do was weakly nod. He didn’t know why he was feeling like that, but it surely didn’t feel pleasant. It was almost as someone had punched him in the stomach and left him on the ground while his head spun. Completely unpleasant. He was also incredibly nervous by the lazy way the angel was toying with his knife.

“I am. You know, ghost hunting, monster killing guy. That’s my job.” He said with a refined cockiness he didn’t know he had in himself.

“I believe it would be best if we left this place, since she[1] will not come back" said the angel out of the blue.

It was Dean’s turn to be confused and puzzled now, even without the little head tilt. There was a body next to them. That usually meant that the job was done. They just had to salt 'n' burn it. Right?

"There’s a body over there. Doesn’t that mean that the deed is done and that son of a bitch’s gone for good?”

“No." It seemed like it pained him to admit failure and Dean could understand the feeling all too well. The angel probably had orders to follow as well and someone not to disappoint. "My assignment is slightly far from done. Now hold still so I can erase your memories" he said while slowly raising his hand.

Dean immediately sprinted to the other side of the room: “You keep your filthy paws off of my silky min[2] d. Imma keep my memories, thank you very much. Besides, you might need my help!"

The angel looked at him as if he had spontaneously sprung a second had out of his shoulder. "I do not understand if you are using sarcasm or if you are indeed serious."

"Excuse me?! I've been on this case for over two weeks. I know most of what's there to know about this. Maybe we can collaborate and get that son of a bitch dead."

"Having spent a fortnight on circumstantial evidence means nothing. Do you even know what you're 'hunting’?”, he spoke the last verb in a rather mocking tone. Dean immediately felt like sucker punching him in the face.

"Something that I'll kill" he claimed with fake confidence.

"I believe the correct answer would be: something that will kill you. It is a demon, just to inform you. Did your two weeks of futile research tell you that?"

Demon. Right. Cause apparently those were a thing as well. If there were angels there must've been also demons, obviously.

'Be cool, Winchester. This is just another Thursday, regular everyday thing, super normal monster fighting routine.'

The angel moved closer to him, concern written all-over his features. "Are you alright, Hunter?"

"First, my name's Dean. Second, my entire existence just got turned upside down and not in the fresh Prince style, so gimme a moment to get it."

He clearly wasn't panicking, thank you very much. He began to make a list of all the monsters he knew of and to compare it to the research he had done so far on the case. It made sense that the murderer was not your ordinary monster.

The angel nodded slowly, before loudly sighing and exclaiming: “I can take you back to your accommodation, if that would make you feel better. Or I could simply remove the memories of this conversation in order for you to return to your regular world, which would be more preferable from my point of view."

That zapped Dean out of his momentarily funk. "Hell no, hot wings. Besides, I think I'll be able to help you to track that thing down and kill it."

"I suppose it is futile trying to convince you otherwise. You hunters are notorious for your stubbornness. Fine. But not in this house. I’ve already wasted too much time in here.”

He wondered about it for a couple of moments, his gaze moving from the dead body to the angel to the dead body again.

“I have a motel room. That’s where I’m staying. I suppose you probably live somewhere fancier, don’t you?” he asked the angel.

“This would be unpleasant for you" was his only reply as he put his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

One second, the hunter was about to start blushing at the situation, trying to think of a joke to ease the tension he could feel building up inside of his body, and the next he was ready to throw his whole soul out as the room around him slightly spun and quickly disappeared. They were at the monster’s hideout and then they weren’t. Some kind of angelic mojo had warp speed them in front of his motel room. Granted, it was the only one in that small town, but he never said the number of the room out loud, which made him think angels could actually read minds.

“More like listen to thoughts. We usually listen to human prayers. You cannot read a mind unless one’s stream of consciousness has been written down. That is the whole concept of reading, after all.”

The hunter was too focused on not throwing up the content of his stomach on his door, nor anywhere truly, to completely understand that the angel had somehow made a joke.

After a few moments of silently standing on the doorstep, Dean with his arm holding him up against the door itself and the angel a few inches away, looking puzzled at him, the silence was broken. “I thought it was polite to appear outside the room, instead of directly inside."

“Wait, what?” replied a more than confused hunter, looking back at his new unusual companion.

“I could have easily made us both appear directly inside the room, but instead...” the angel couldn’t finish the sentence. He had been cut off by a maniacal scream that had exited the hunter’s throat. “WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE MY BABY?” asked a panicked Dean Winchester to the celestial being.

“You took an infant with you?” fired back a somehow equally distressed angel.

“Listen, Castor," Dean was aware that that wasn't his name, but sounded rather similar and he was way too preoccupied to care, "I literally have no fucks to give right now about you or the hunt. Where the fuck did you leave my car?”

"My name is Castiel, not Castor. And I would appreciate if you did not call me that. As you might not be aware, the name comes from a different mythology. And I have no idea of what you are talking about" he replied calmly, in a very stoic matter.

“Bullshit!” yelled Dean, “You don’t get it, she ...” The hunter tried to finish the sentence, but no sound came out of him mouth. He opened it and closed it a few times, before settling down to just violently glare at the man in front of him. “You will get your ability to speak back when you learn not to use such foul language. Now, I presume you are not talking about a human infant, do I stand correct?”

Dean could only nod yes. He tried to counteract, but his lips were literally sealed with some kind of weird angelic magic.

"Is this 'Baby' an inanimate object?"

"She has a soul you crazy psycho!" his mind screamed, but he simply nodded along, swallowing his bruising pride.

“Is this the meaning with which you arrived at the house?”

Again, a simple nod yes.

“I will take you back there, then, so you can retrieve your... vehicle.”

Suddenly his voice started to work again and he took full advantage of it to scream at the angel and try to escape him. “No, don’t you fucking dare..!”, he couldn’t even finish the sentence that he was again being zapped away, nausea hitting him twice as hard.

“Jesus! You really gotta stop doing that, man!” he cried out while clutching a hand to his heart. It was pounding so hard it might've jumped out of this body to explode.

“I already told you my name is Castiel.” Said the angel, tilting his head once more.

‘Does he do it every time he doesn’t understand something? Cause it’s really cute and distracting and fucking hell FOCUS WINCHESTER!’ his mind shot at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Do you mind stop zapping me everywhere?" he asked after a few moments later, after having regained his breath and having stopped his mind from spinning.

"That 'zapping', as you kindly called it, is the way we move from place to place. I warned you it sound not be pleasant to your human body. I believe it caused you a migraine and several other unpleasantness."

"You don't say!" sarcastically snapped back the hunter. "From now on, we're either driving around in my car or we're walking. No more of that freaky mojo shit."

"Why? Walking is a waste of time and I have no idea of what 'driving' is." The angel's eyes were slightly getting darker and for a second Dean wondered if the actual sky was stirred in them.

But that was a thought for later. Right at the moment, he had to cross the street because of course the perfect and attractive stranger had shipped them to the wrong side of the road.

"Get in the car, wings. Imma show you what driving is" he said while opening his car door. He had to stop and admire the scene in front of him before getting in: the angel was simply standing there, looking pretty and puzzled at the passenger's door, as if waiting for it to itself or something. The sight was hilarious and lovely and Dean wanted to laugh at it so badly, but decided against it considering he'd be humouring an immortal all powerful being who was slightly a lot scary.

"You gotta pull the handle and manually open the door. Then you get in and sit" he said with a newly found fondness in his voice that rarely appeared during casual conversations.

He waited to see how the angel would've worked around the instructions. When he was fully seated inside the Impala, Dean jumped in, the action as easy as breathing.

This, being behind the wheel of the Impala, he could handle. Step by step he might've also been able to grasp the full picture in front of him, but for now he was content just being there.

"Now, Cassiel. Buckle up, I don't want any cops to stop me cause you're not wearing your belt."

The angel just started at him, confusion filling his eyes. He then looked down at his pants, checking the belt that kept them up. "I believe my belt is properly tied."

The hunter couldn't help but laugh now. It wasn't a small chuckle, but a full on, body shaking, tear jerking laugh.

The atmosphere that earlier was rough and tense, now seemed lighter.

Wiping the tears out of his eyes, he recomposed himself. "Calm down, Winchester. If dad was here he'd probably kill you." his mind said. But his father was not there and was no harm in becoming friends (and possibly more) with a celestial being.

"I meant to seatbelt. The piece of plastic-ish fabric with other plastic stuff that is attached to your right, on the lateral doorframe. You gotta wrap it around body and click it in the clickety thing."

"What a perfect explanation. Tell me, Deanna, did you study the English language in depth?" asked the angel with a small smile on his lips.

At that, Dean turned towards the angel so quickly and violently, he had to thank the seatbelt he had just latched on to prevent him from crashing onto the angel's body. Not that he would've particularly minded. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I asked you if you studied the English language excessively, but I assume from your constant use off cursing that you prefer a more direct approach." Amusement sparked in those blue pools as anger coursed through his veins.

"You know what I'm talking about, Cassiel."

"Are you talking to me? Because my name happens to have a 't' after the only 's'. Now, I would excuse your awful pronunciation if you had a lisp. But since I could not detect any upon our encounter..."

Did the hot angel just make a somehow funny and rather sarcastic joke? Dean couldn't believe it.

"Fine! But your name's a mouthful. Is Cas okay? Tiel doesn't sound that nice but we could make it work. Or maybe Cassie?" he finished the sentence with a wink. Although the memory of that name brought rather bad set of memories, he wouldn't have minded calling him that. Or anything. He wouldn't have minded keeping talking to him, period.

But the glare that Castiel gave him was enough to burn holes into the Sun. "Cas is alright, I suppose" he admitted eventually.

They remained in silence for a couple of seconds, the angel staring outside the front window and Dean staring at the angel. 'He has really long lashes' he thought suddenly.

The angel turned around at him, a questioning frown on his face, "I have never been inside of an automobile before, but I thought they moved faster than this."

"I'm still waiting for you to buckle up, cowboy."

Only then he seemed to realize his mistake. After a brief 'Apologies', he began to fumble account the plastic stripe. It seemed like he had somehow gotten the hang of it when he managed to unfold it.

"Now one more step to go" Dean thought.

Castiel began to mumble a series of incomprehensible sounds. It sounded rather ancient and powerful and arousing.

"It would be much easier for us to simply fly there with my powers. Are you aware of it?"

"Oh, no way in hell, hot wings! Unless you want me to hurl my stomach everywhere we go, that's a hard pass."

"You could simply not follow me. I am confident I will succeed in my mission even without your assistance. "

"Do you to know that this thing only buys alcohol from a specific store in town that is probably own by a witch? And do you know how to track it down? Admit it, Cas, it will be easier with my help. That's why you asked!"

"You volunteered, Dean."

"I don't see any Vaguely Flaming Devices around here."[3]

"Pardon me?"

Again with the head tilt. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Now, wanna head back to the motel so I can show you my perfect and accurate and awesome research?" He said while emphatically wiggling his brows.

"Since you are conducting the vehicle, I would claim that it would be appropriate to leave you to choose the destination."

"Do you ever speak like you eat?" asked an amused hunter.

"I do not eat, Dean."

"That explains a lot."

"This is gonna be interesting" Dean thought to himself, hoping that the angel hadn't put on his ears.

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