#if this had been dean those guys would have just been massacred

[lostgirl677]

Revenge Part.2

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Part.1

Part 3

Summary:   Y/N and the Winchester brothers are on the trail of a mysterious werewolf, but who knows where this may lead them? Another successfull hunt or a more serious mess?  

“So, you mean that there is an entire book series about you?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. Sam and Dean looked a bit embarrassed “Well, yeah. But Chuck wasn’t aware that we actually existed when he wrote the books.” That was a lot to process, less than when I joined the life of course, but goddamn! I needed to find those books, for sure. Then realization strucked me. ”That means that thousands of people read about not only your adventures but also Dean’s hookups? I think I’m scarred for life.” This earned me a good laugh from Sam who put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and a big frown from Dean who smacked his hand from him.“What? It’s not Casa Erotica worthy either, don’t exaggerate. And thousands of people, really? You are flattering Chuck.” I just rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Dean. Just now tell me how you ended up at the first Supernatural Convention.” Dean had a huge grin forming on his lips while Sam stopped laughing and a “Don’t you dare” look in his eyes. Which made Dean smile even more. “It was around three years before we met you. We received a SOS message from Chuck, but apparently, Sam’s girlfriend just wanted to see him.” If looks could kill, Dean would have been killed by Sam.“Sam’s girlfriend?” I asked. “She’s not my girlfriend! Listen,  Becky is a huge fangirl…’ “So, her name is Becky. Well,well, well” I interrupted him, making Dean chuckle. “Stop laughing! Alright. So she sent us a message, pretending to be Chuck and tricked us to participate at this stupid convention.Thankfully in a way, since this place was haunted we were able to save people there.” “With the help of a couple who were cosplaying us.", continued Dean. “Okay. So I have a question. This guy, the werewolf, obviously knows about you and will go to a Supernatural Convention. Is it me or everytime a convention takes place, a trap is directly set for you? Don’t tell me it doesn’t sound like a sketchy trap. Plus, everyone will have a costume. It’s evident that this guy will make a massacre without getting caught. What if  it was part of a plan  to let us live in the barn and he left us a bait to find him again?” I asked, anxious. Dean and Sam seemed deep in thinking. “Y/N has a point. But why? Do you really think this guy has more beef on us?” asked Dean. “Maybe, since we have enemies everywhere. But don’t forget that it could be even more dangerous for Y/N since she killed his son.” added Sam. I took on a deep breath. Wow, this was official, I really hated werewolves.”Okay. So we have a mastermind werewolf on hand and a convention about your life.The next week is going to be interesting to say the least.” Dean took my shoulders in an embrace and told me “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry, we are here, sweetheart.” I felt warmth on my cheeks as his breath fanned on my skin. I hated being that silly when it happened, but I couldn’t help it.“Thank you.” I tried really hard to hide the blush that formed on my face and it earned me a look from Sam. He knew about my crush on his brother since the day I saved Dean from a vampire. And I knew he’ll never let me in peace ever since. “Well folks, prepare your stuff. We’re going.’ said Sam, clapping his hands together.

I went straight to my room and put my duffle bag on the bed. And I began to rummage through my drawers. While digging through my mess I felt something cold that entangled itself in my fingers. When I took my hand out of the  clothes I found my old heart-shaped silver locket that I thought was lost for so long. When I opened it, I felt tears in my eyes. It was the last picture I took with my best friend, my only ‘family’ left. I sat on the floor and tried to not cry. Then I heard someone opening my door. “Hey Y/N, I thought you would like… You okay?” It was Dean’s voice. I turned my head and saw him with a plate of waffles and a concerned look. “Yeah, I just found my locket and it brought so many memories that I thought were…” Dean crouched next to me and landed his free hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m sure Ethan was awesome. And that he was super proud when you helped us to kill that demon.” I could never forget that demon who possessed Mandy, our roommate.It killed Ethan right before my eyes and I couldn’t do a thing to help him. To this day, I didn’t know why it killed him and left me. Dean and Sam helped me a lot through the whole “Survivor’s guilt” thing. They were practically experts in that area. “Wanna some help putting the necklace on?” asked Dean, bringing me back to reality. “Sure, thanks.” I felt Dean gently taking my hair to the side and he took my necklace in hands to put it around my neck. “Done. So you want waffles or am I doomed to eat them by myself?” He asked, earning him a small smile from me. “ I take that as a yes.” He said and sat next to me. I always enjoyed this kind of moment with Dean. Just him and I, sharing whatever food the other brought and talking about whatever subject as if our life wasn’t a giant mess.

About an hour later, we were all packed,  ready to leave the bunker and to head straight to San Francisco. When Dean took place behind the wheel, he threw me a glance and started the engine. “Sam, Y/N, are you ready?” Sam and I nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” He started one of his mixtapes and drove out of the garage. The drive was long since California is quite far away from Kansas.Dean and Sam kept bickering about the music again. I always was deep in my thoughts in those kinds of moments. “Let’s ask Y/N’s opinion about the next mixtape, then.” I jumped when I heard my name and made eye contact with Dean in the rearview mirror. “Y/N, what would you like to listen to? Some classic Rock or some crappy pop song that Sam likes?” Without a thought, I said “Classic Rock all the way.” Told you!” cheered Dean .“Damn right, I should have known.” said Sam in an exasperated tone. I blew him a raspberry and enjoyed the song.

Timeskip

When we finally reached San Francisco it was already dark outside. Sam was sound asleep and Dean and I kept a quiet conversation with music in the background.”I think I found a motel.” said Dean, while the sign of a crappy motel was visible not that far from us. When Dean parked the car, he awoke Sam. “Wake up drooling beauty” Sam opened one eye and hummed. “No I’m serious Sam, you drooled all over the seat. Get Up! We’re at a motel. I’ll go check us into a room and you’ll help Y/N with the bags.” Sam woke up completely and got out of the car. In no time, we were in our room. There were two beds. “Who do you share with, this time?”  asked Sam. “What about you guys sleeping together and I take a whole bed for myself?” I said. “In your dreams, princess. You already slept with Sam, you know that he is a kicker and that he snores a lot.” said Dean with a smile, knowing that it wasn’t even remotely true but it was funny. “Fine, I’ll share with Dean.” Dean gave me a wink. “Good call, leave the kicker alone. But the next time Dean has an ‘embarrassing’ dream, if you know what I mean, don’t even consider begging to come with me.” said Sam and Dean’s face changed. “Hey! I’m a gentleman, I never dared to have this kind of dream when I share the bed with Y/N.” And the bickering was on again. I took advantage of it to take a shower first.

We spent the following days searching whether there were werewolf attacks in the area but apparently the guy kept a low profile. Then the convention day finally arrived. I saw Dean taking a deep breath and Sam seemed ready to run away. I decided to speak ‘So, I saw that a certain Samlicker81 was the  organizer of this convention.” I couldn’t hold a little laugh at the pseudonym. As if the simple mention of the name summoned her, a little blond woman appeared out of nowhere and I saw that Sam was about to sprint away. “Hey, Sam! You came! I knew you could not stay away from me that long!” she said, literally clinging to him. “H...Hey Becky!” said Sam in a forced tone. Dean and I exchanged a look. So this is Becky… Interesting. “She is worse than Beetlejuice.” I whispered to Dean and he nodded. When she finally left Sam alone she turned to us. “Hey Dean. And you must be Y/N. I’m so sorry about your friend.” her expression shifted from sadness to complete joy. “ I’m so glad you guys decided to stop by!” I wasn’t listening anymore.How did she know me and about Ethan?  I got a bit away from the boys and that’s when I saw them. A group of girls dressed like me. Some had wigs and colored contact lenses and some with a replica of my necklace. They were all different and gorgeous. One of them noticed me. “Oh girl! I love your cosplay. You really got Y/N’s energy with that outfit! Guys! come here, look at her!” I didn’t even notice that even guys wore the same kind of outfit as me. I smiled at them and complimented them as well. When I found Dean and Sam I could not help but ask “How did that Becky girl know about me?” “I think Chuck didn’t hold his promise and kept writing. I'm gonna kill him!” said Dean. “As much as I agree with you, we’ll have an army of fans after us if you land as much as hand on him.” said Sam. “Guys, I think you’re forgetting why we’re here in the first place.” “Yeah, Y/N is right. Remember that he can be any tall guy around here and that he is probably in a disguise.Let’s split up.”

While I was on my own, I found other cosplayers and spoke a bit with them. If there wasn't any danger, I’m sure I would have enjoyed talking with them. They were really interesting people. I saw many people dressed as monsters we fought but I didn’t see any guy that could fit the profile of the werewolf. It was frustrating. Ifinally spotted Dean and Sam near the bar, the real ones. Sam was apparently enjoying a Bitch cocktail while Dean was drinking his Jerk cocktail. “Hey! Found anything?” Dean chugged his cocktail and said “Squat” “Yeah, white goose chase.” added Sam. “So you guys decided to head for the booze instead of keep looking?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “The only way to make this day a little bearable.” replied Dean with his gruff voice. I heard people trying to imitate his voice the whole day but no one can do it like him. He was about to order another one but I grabbed his sleeve. “Dean, please this is serious. This son of a bitch could be anywhere. People are in danger.” “Y/N is right, Dean.” Dean huffed and put his glass on the counter. “Okay, let’s go”

We came across many reenactments of fights and important moments we’ve been through. Those people seemed really invested in our adventures. I swore to myself to not let them get involved in such a situation unless it’s fictional. At some point, I saw a girl dressed with a blue dress covered in fake blood. She was crying on the floor while holding a brunette guy who seemed dead. And two guys went to her, guns in hand. “Who are you?” she said between fake sobs. “We’re the Winchester. What happened?” They were playing the moment I met Dean and Sam. I still remember how they barged in my flat, searching for ‘Mandy’, how I cried on Dean's shoulder, how I trapped the demon after playing the bait and how hard it was to organize Ethan’s funeral. I put a hand to my mouth, speechless. Sam noticed and took my shoulder to lead me somewhere else

We also passed by another group of girls dressed as me and caught a glimpse of what they were saying. “I can’t believe Y/N never confessed to Dean that she” My instinct kicked in. I dragged Dean away from the group. “Confess me what?” “That the last time I ate the last slice of pie and accused Sam” “That was you ?! I ignored Sam for an entire week” almost screamed Dean. I looked at Sam and he mouthed ‘Nice save.” As the day went on, we grew bored of looking. I let the guys take a break while I was taking drinks for us. “One Bitch, One Jerk and a SquirrelandMoose for me, please.” I carefully made my way to the guys when I bumped into a tall guy. “Oops, sorry.” I said “No problem.” replied the guy and with that I arrived and handed Dean and Sam their drinks.”Dear hunters, you are invited to join the conference room to welcome our special guest” a guy dressed as Bobby said. Everyone got up and headed to the said room. “If the werewolf is here, it’s the moment to be very careful.” said Dean, bringing his hand to the place where he usually hides his gun. “Keep both eyes open.”, he added.

I heard a bit of commotion behind me. “Wow, your costume is awesome dude!” “Yeah, so realistic. Where did you find such high quality fake fur?” I turn my head, in complete panic. It was a guy disguised with a less cheap werewolf costume than the others but he wasn’t that tall and I could see the label of the costume. I signed in relief. We were all confined in this room. When the famous Chuck appeared on the stage, everybody cheered except the Winchesters and I. “He could be here with us.” whispered Sam. Chuck answered many pointless questions, I was sure that he regretted ever writing this book series. The following hours were exhausting. A loud howl interrupted Chuck's monologue and everything went black in the room. Everyone cheered, probably thinking that it was a surprise animation. “Goddamn, here we go again.” said Dean. The generator supplied the room with a bit of light, enough to see a fully transformed werewolf charging us.

Part.3 soon

[idjitlili]

The wrong type of charmer

Steve Harrington x reader, slight Billy Hargorve x reader.

Summary: after falling for Billy's charm you agreed to go on date with him. Only to find him getting it on with another girl. Eddie quickly comes to comfort you, Steve and you begin to ' date which angers Billy as Steve is everything he hates.

Request: yes, changed a bit though.

Word count: 1939

Warnings: language, douche bag Billy. Insecure reader.

A/n: I'm terrible , I don't know how to end anything. nOT MY IMAGES , POOR COLLAGE MADE.

You knew what Billy was like, hell everyone did, it was the most obvious thing ever. He was the definition of a player, man whore, womaniser whatever you want to call it. It was incredible stupid to crush on a guy like him.  Just go back to your bedroom and fantasise about Rob Lowe! Save yourself some hurt. Of course you didn't.  Stupid, tight jeans , long hair and piercing eyes.

Maybe, he came after you just to cross you off, or maybe it was because you hadn't given him the time of day and he loves a challenge. Only getting you when you were caught walking home in a storm and he had offered you a ride. You shouldn't have taken the ride, should've just got struck by lightning.  You had only went on one date, one date.

The date consisted him taking you to eat fast food in a middle of a random field. Texas chainsaw massacre? You wished. He had been sweet , he actually talked to you and listened.  Used those cheap petnames that he used on all girls.  It made things worse. At the end of the date he wanted to kiss you but you had declined, and he had asked you if you would go out with him again and again you agreed. You wished you hadn't. 

Maybe, it's because he didn't get the kiss or anything further that he went looking for more. Maybe, he brought you to a random party just so he'd get caught. Which brought you to now.When you had gotten to the party with Billy he had ditched you almost immediately. 

Standing the door way of a bedroom watching Billy pound into a girl. He wasn't naked no, the girl however, her clothes were ripped all over the place, exposing her to the world. Billy had heard you come in, oh you knew he did when he turned to look at you smirking , though the smirk had dropped when he realised it was you. 

"Fuck you, " The words slipping out your mouth before you could think.  He hadn't stopped when you left , he didn't care.

You should've known, you did know. If you wanted a hot guy that was charming and hot as fuck you should've went after Dean Winchester. He would never treat a women like Billy did.You didn't cry, as you ran down the stairs and out the door smacking into Steve Harrington.

Steve who was out of place at the party, party Steve didn't exist anymore. He'd much rather pig out on Kfc and watch a movie with his friends these days.  His hands gripping your shoulders stopping you flying down the porch, his eyes latched to yours.

"Y/n?"

Steve and you were close, best friends, ever since he had became babysitter Steve. Working alongside him and Robin at family video over summer. Steve the hair Harrington had been single for a long time other than one of dates that never went well. Hard to understand why when Steve always was a sweetheart, treated women as he should, above and beyond generally. Yes, he had a reputation,  King Steve. So, he liked to get it on in the bathroom sometimes, he's a bigboy it's his nature. But with you, Steve was different.

He didn't know about the date you had with Billy, you didn't think it would last ( and you were right clearly) and you knew he wouldn't approve.  Let's be honest you knew you had developed a small crush on him, so seeing Billy being a douche didn't hurt as much as it could.

"Oh, hi Steve."  Speaking after composing yourself, his eyebrows crunched together, shocked to see you at a party. His eyes only leaving you when the door had slammed open and Billy who was not sober had began making his way towards you.

Grabbing on Steve you pulled him with you down the steps of the of porch.

"Where do you think you're going with my girl, Harrington?"  His words slightly slurred as he chugged the rest of the bear in his can before tossing it. That's a disgusting habit, littering.  Steves eyes going from you to Billy, who was stomping towards you both.

"We are not together Billy, you made that perfectly clear." Steve may of not liked the words that came out of Billy's or your mouth but he still shouted a range of foul words at Billy before leading you to his car and speeding off. 

"What the fuck." Glancing at you birelfy before turning back to the road, his knucles white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You decided not reply as he was going to break out into a rant.

"What the actual fuck, y/n? Why did Billy call you his girl? Wait, Tell me you didn't sleep with him? "

"No, I didn't." Looking out the window, the streetlights lighting up the pathment, that fact was a relief to both you.

"I don't know Steve, he was sweet when we had a date. Should've known he would've go off with someone else." Resting his hand on your thigh, he squeezed gently.

"Why him?"

"You don't get it, Steve. Feeling like no one will ever like you. Christ, you're Steve Harrington, you'll never know what is it like. Who wouldn't love you. Imagine you're me and someone finally shows a little bit of interest in you. Steve, I really liked him." You explained, picking at your fingers. Latching onto the door handle as Steve sharply pulled over, eyes widening at Steve's actions. Turning to you immediately after parking.

"You, oh my, Y/n/n , you're so silly to think you're anything less than so fucking beautiful. " His voice soft as his he brings his hand up to your cheek to wipe away a stray tear, your eyes latched with his chocolate ones. His hand dropping to hold yours.

"Fuck, truthfully, Y/n. I wish weren't friends. The real reason all my dates haven't been working out, is because I can't get you out of my fucking head. I wish I had told you before you went to Billy because you deserve so much better than Billy and I. " His thumb caressing over the back of your hand as his words stumbled out into a confession.

"W-what? Are you telling me you like?" Steve tilted his head as his lips curled up into a nervous smile nodding.

Cheeks going up in flames as your stomach twisted nerves jolting as you leaned forward pressing your lips to his in a quick peck. Waiting for any reaction on his face out than his mouth gapping open.

"Tell me how you feel." His words nervous as he scanned your face, he didn't want to be used like Nancy had used him when she didn't feel the same. Pausing to ponder, you had always pushed your feelings off claiming it was just because well Steve is hot and you were attached becayse he was your friend.

"I thought I loved you as my best friend, but now I realise I love because i'm in love you." Your eyes now fixed onto your lap again, heat rushing cheeks in embarrassment.

His surprising soft hands lifting your face to meet his eyes, his lips pressing against yours for a moment before you had reciprocated , his lips moves against your. Your hands moving up Steves arms into his hair, running though the ends, his hands gripped on your waist. Pulling away for a moment.

" I love you." His lips against your against yours once more, pulling away completly, his hand interlaced with yours.

"You know what would really bug Billy?" Steve had spoke breaking the comfortable silence.

"What?"

"If Billy saw us together, he hates me and the fact I'm with someone he couldn't get," pausing to let out a hefty laugh "he'd be so pissed."

"More like he'd beat you to a pulp again. "

"You know what probably, but I'll still have you." Pressing another kiss to your lips Steve smiles softly at you.

When you say Billy next he had tried so hard to charm you into forgiving you.

"Awe c'mon, babe. We weren't even exclusive, it was one date. We could be if you just say yes." Billy had cornered you at arcade when picking Max up. His less than innocent glances towards you caused goosebumps to erupt all over your body. Choosing not to respond to Billy you had just glared at him.

"Give me another shot, I'll be the god of your orgasm, exclusively I promise."

"Oh ew, fuck off, you mullet wearing asshole. " spitting your words at Billy, his smile dropped as ducked under his arms rushing away.

It didn't stop there, there were multiple incidents where Billy had came up to you, to try convince you.

Steve had taken you to get ice cream, eating it on the hood his car, the two of you waiting for the kids to come out of school.

"Do you want to trying some of mine, it's really good and I would know I tried all the flavours at scoops." Steve had gushed, his free hand wrapped around your waist holding you tightly, your legs thrown over his thighs.

Holding his ice cream cone out for you, you had went to try it but before you could Steve pushed the ice cream into your nose covering it with icecream.

"Steve!" His laughs dying down, as his face straightened watching you search your pockets for a tissue.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll get it for you." Before you could process, Steve had pressed his lips to your nose brielfy before pulling awau and licking his lips. It didn't work at all and Steve wiped the remaining of with his sleeve.

"Nah, I'm still trying it." Latching over Steve's hand you had licked the cone as Steve watched. Unknowingly to both you Billy uad gotten there before both you ( otherwise you would've heard the car) and had been watching the whole time tapping his fingers against the door.

Steve had pulled you between his legs, one arm wrapped around you, Whispering into your ear.

"Well, looky here, huh? Really? You could've had everything, babe." Eyes widening at Billy stopd in front you, glaring.

"Yeah, don't know why anyone would want all the STDs," Steve had coughed out, lifting you from between his legs back onto his hood as he sized up to Billy.

"What did you fucking say?" Spitting at Steve he went to grab Steve's shirt, you stood in between the two pushing him back.

"Whu don't you go fuck your dad some more, you insecure little boy , you can't even handle being rejected."

Okay so your words may have been harsh and Billy was like zero seconds away from knocking you about when all the kids had rushed up to the three of you. Or maybe he wasn't maybe he was so embarrassed that you were right that.

Either way, you weren't Billy's but he would try, he would do anything in his power to sway you. But for now you were with Steve.

[bluejaybug]

people always say that cas just keeps on fucking up but um?? hello??? sam and dean consistently keep breaking the world just because if their awful codependency and then they have to clean up their own mess, or they just look for problems that aren't even affecting them and make dumb decisions to fix a problem that's not even a problem. example: abaddon wasn't even an issue. she was crowley's issue. abaddon couldn't have cared less about the winchesters or anything else except hell, but they still felt the need to kill her, why??

oh, hey, remember when dean literally started an apocalypse to bring back his dead brother. a hunter, who preaches that the dead should stay dead.

or when sam and rowena unleashed the darkness to remove the mark of cain.

and before you say, oh those were unintended consequences.

yeah. that's exactly my point. every so-called "fuck up" you say cas has made has been an unintended consequence.

letting sam out of the panic room? firstly, again: tortured and brainwashed by heaven. i doubt he even remembers that he did that. second: they would have killed lilith anyways. dean always intended to go kill lilith. the only reason he ended up in the green room was because sam went to kill lilith first. if sam didn't, then dean and bobby would have gone to kill lilith. and either way: everyone was being manipulated by the higher-ups in heaven. yes, even cas. remember the torture/brainwashing? yeah, not a lot of the fandom does either.

the massacre during 7.01? if y'all can say that moc!dean wasn't really dean, then that applies to cas too. he had millions of souls in him along with literal leviathans. i highly doubt he was himself at that point, but i digress.

which brings me to my next point: the leviathans. an unintended consequence of saving the world, which, by the way, cas did by himself. so props to him. it's not like he thought, "ah, yes, leviathans, how about i just let those bad boys out on a joy ride" uh?? no?? cas hadn't even been aware the leviathans were in him the whole time.

the angels falling. guys. metatron made the angels fall. metatron found the spell, metatron found the ingredients, metatron tricked and manipulated cas and stole his grace from him to use as the last ingredient of the spell which caused the angels to fall. cas thought he was helping to fix heaven, which had been his entire goal since season 6 when he was fighting the civil war.

i always hear "he never learns from his mistakes" but you think sam and dean have?? that's the entire show. literally no one in this show has learned anything from their mistakes. they keep making stupid reckless deals and they trust the wrong people and they break things when they meant to fix them. hating cas for things that the winchesters have literally done before and continue to do makes absolutely no sense. the double standard is astounding.

there's so much more i have to say, but i forgot a lot of it.

[nordleuchten]

La Fayette in Prison - Part 2 - Magdeburg

After Wesel, off we go to Magdeburg. Here La Fayette and his fellow prisoners stayed from January 4, 1793 until January 4, 1794.  Just like Wesel, Magdeburg was and still is a prominent city in modern-day Germany (back then in Prussia). And just like Wesel, Magdeburg lies near a river, the Elbe to be precise. And again, the prison laid inside the city’s fortress. Large parts of the fortress are still intact and are the sites of numerous activities throughout the years, such as re-enactments, historic festivals, historic guided tour ... visitors are also free to request an individual guided tour, unrelated to any other activity. La Fayette is once more named as a noteworthy inmate by the Homepage of the organisation charged with taking care of the fortress. But he was far from the most prominent inmate – Germans at least will recognise the names of Fritz Reuter and Werner von Siemens (the guy who founded the company “Siemens”). Whoever created the Homepage either did not do their research or disliked La Fayette. It is stated that La Fayette attempted an coup d’état that failed and that he initiated the Champ the Mars massacre ... both statements are grossly oversimplified at best and utter nonsense at worst. During La Fayette’s stay Ludwig Karl von Kalkstein (then a Lieutenant-General) was the Governor of the prison and Otto Kasimir von Meerschneidt (then a Major-General) was its Commander.

La Fayette and is fellow Frenchmen were brought to Magdeburg by means of an open cart. What was in all likelihood intended to degrade them further, was actually a blessing for the prisoners. They now had fresh air and the open, blue sky in abundance, something that had been denied to them all those months prior. Something else happened as well. People recognized these august men and apparently also cheered for them. Where the Prussian and Austrian authorities had a keen dislike for La Fayette, the population was in large parts in favour of him (more on that in a bit). Though he may have been touched by the cheering, such outpours of affection did not help La Fayette endear himself to his jailers – not at all. Nevertheless, conditions at Magdeburg were better ... far from good, but better.

La Fayette was allowed to obtain some books. Among other things he read mostly about agriculture and this knowledge would later come in handy when he ventured into the farming business after his return to France in 1799. He was furthermore allowed to write and receive letter ... but there was a twist. You see, when a letter for La Fayette arrived, the authorities in Magdeburg would open it, read it and decide if La Fayette was allowed to receive this letter. If so, they would go into his cell and read the letter aloud to him exactly once. If he was allowed to reply, his letters were checked and if there was something in them that did not please his jailors, well, the letter then moved directly into the bin. Lovely!

Nevertheless, things were looking up for La Fayette and he started writing letters to the full extent of his possibilities. Although he ached to let his wife Adrienne know that he was more or less okay, he did nor dare to write her. She was still imprisoned in France and La Fayette feared that somebody there might recognise his handwriting and subsequently destroy the letter. Instead he tried to reach his English and American friends (both in America and as envoys in Europe).

La Fayette described his cell in a letter to an unknown friend in England:

“Imagine an opening made under the rampart of the citadel, and surrounded with a strong, high palisade; through this, after opening four doors, each armed with chains, bars, and padlocks, they come, not without some difficulty and noise, to my cell, three paces wide five and a half long. The wall is mouldy on the side towards the ditch, and the front one admits light, but not sunshine, through a little grated window. Add to this two sentinels, -- whose eyes penetrate into this lower region, but who are kept outside the palisade, lest they should speak other watchers not belonging to the guard, and all the walls ramparts, ditches, guards, within and without the citadel of Magdeburg, and you will think that the foreign powers neglect nothing to keep us within their dominions. The noisy opening of the four doors is repeated every morning to admit my servant; at dinner, that I may eat in presence of the commandant of the citadel and of the guard; and at night, to take my servant to his prison. After having shut upon me all the doors, the commandant carries off the keys to the room where, since our arrival, the king has ordered him to sleep. I have books, the white leaves of which are taken out, but no news, no newspapers no communications, -- neither pen, ink, paper, nor pencil. It is a wonder that I possess this sheet, and I am writing with a toothpick. My health fails daily (…).”

(I am a bit irked by the fact, that I can neither associated an recipient nor an exact date with the letter. The letter otherwise seems authentic and the content is similar to other letters by La Fayette that we have more information on – that being said, I gave the letter a pass although its provenance is not what I would like it to be.)

I have seen some people argue that La Fayette mostly managed to keep his spirits up, because he did not complained an awful lot in his letters – but when assessing such a statement, you have to keep in mind that La Fayette really could not complain a lot in his letters, otherwise they would never be posted. It is true though, that there were small betterments. I already mentioned the letters and books, but he and the other prisoners were also allowed to take regular walks in the yard of the prison. They walked separated from each other and were heavily guarded. But La Fayette fell ill again, this time with a fever. His illness was not as serious though as it had been at Wesel.

La Fayette also received some money from his friends in America. Some of his friends, such like Washington, privately send money for La Fayette to use. Thomas Jefferson, then Secretary of State, found a way for the Government to pay La Fayette some money. He argued that La Fayette had offered to serve in the Continental Army without pay but that there was no official document of the Continental Congress accepting this offer. It follows that the Treasury owned La Fayette six years of pay and furthermore ten years worth of interests since they had “forgotten” to pay him the money since the end of the war ten years prior. Jefferson wrote a letter to Washington on December 30, 1793:

“Soon after his captivity and imprisonment, and before the ministers had received our instructions to endeavor to obtain his liberation, they were apprised that his personal restraint, and the peculiar situation of his fortune disabled him from drawing resources from that, and would leave him liable to suffer for subsistence, and the common necessaries of life. After a consultation by letter, therefore, between our ministers at Paris, London, and the Hague, they concurred in opinion that they ought not in such a case to wait for instructions from hence, but that his necessities should be provided for until they could receive such instructions. Different sums have been therefore either placed at his disposal, or answered on his draughts, amounting, as far as we hitherto know to about twelve or thirteen hundred Guineas. This has been taken from a fund not applicable by law to this purpose nor able to spare it: and the question is whether, and how it is to be made good? To do this, nothing more is requisite than that the United States should not avail themselves of the Liberalities of M. de la Fayette, yielded at a moment when neither he nor we could foresee the time when they would become his only resource for subsistence. It appears by a statement from the war office, hereto annexed, that his pay and commutation as a major General in the service of the United States to the 3rd of nov. 1783 amounted to 24,100 dollrs thirteen Cents exclusive of ten years interest elapsed since that time, to the payment of which the following obstacle has occurred. at the foot of the original engagement by Mr Deane, a copy of which is hereto annexed, that a certain roll of officers there named, and of which M. de la Fayette was one, should be taken into the american service in the grades there specified, M. de la Fayette alone has subjoined for himself a declaration that he would serve without any particular allowance or pension. It may be doubted whether the words in the original French do strictly include the general allowance of pay and commutation. and if they do, there is no evidence of any act of acceptance by Congress. Yet, under all the circumstances of the case, it is thought that the legislature alone is competent to decide it. If they decline availing the United States of the declaration of M. de la Fayette, it leaves a fund which not only covers the advances which have been made, but will enable you take measures for his future relief. It does it too, in a way which can give offence to nobody, since none have a right to complain of the payment of a debt, that being a moral duty, from which we cannot be discharged by any relation in which the creditor may be placed as to them.”

Washington forwarded the letter to the Congress and on March 27, 1794 Congress passed a bill to pay La Fayette the money he had not accepted as a General during the Revolutionary War. To nobody’s surprise, neither Congress nor President Washington had any objections and the bill was approved swiftly.

Prisons in the 18th century (as well as today) often development into some sort of parallel society. Money and especially bribery could get you far in prison and La Fayette experienced that first hand. On November 18, 1809 La Fayette enclosed an account of his financial situation in a letter to Thomas Jefferson. It seems as if this lengthy report had been written by one of La Fayette’s secretaries. Here is a short excerpt of the English translation of the report:

“The expenses caused by his captivity were enormous; the prisoners had to pay their own way as long as their money lasted, and as General Lafayette was the only one with some money, he had to take responsibility for his fellow prisoners. But this was a small matter in comparison with all that his European friends did financially to save his life, to correspond with him, and to facilitate his escape. Some of them made great personal sacrifices, and the sums generously sent by the American government were swallowed up. General Lafayette’s family provided for its own expenses while living in Olmutz. So that on arriving at Hamburg after an imprisonment of five years he found nothing of what had been intended for him and only an increased debt to Mr. Gouverneur Morris up to the time when he was paid 68000.₶; to Mr. Parish former United States consul, forty three thousand Livres; to Mr. Bollman a contract reduced to 30000.₶”

(You see, a great deal of the financial troubles and transactions came after his stay in Magdeburg but since everything started in Magdeburg, I thought it convenient to discuss the monetary issue here in full.)

We see the United States taking actions to the best of their abilities and we see also more letters discussing La Fayette’s fate. News travelled slowly in the 18th century and it took the three months that La Fayette stayed in Wesel for the world to find out that he even had been arrested. But after the knowledge was out there, we see an increase in letters and also in newspaper coverage. So much so that Adrienne could read in the French newspapers that La Fayette was presently alive and in Magdeburg. We can further observe that people all other he world started petitioning the Prussian King for La Fayette’s relief. His friends, English Members of Parliament (although it would take a couple more years before the House of Commons would discuss the topic in full), Washington and his friends in America, Americas envoys in Europe, the list goes on. Some of La Fayette’s fellow prisoners, mostly unassuming secretaries and aids, had been released almost immediately and were now also trying to secure La Fayette’s freedom – some even returned to France to do so. We also see Prussians citizen petition their King. Most of these petitions were simple letters, but some petitioners had the money to spare and printed their petitions as pamphlets – many of them can today be found online.

Although the instructions for the guard were not less strict then they had been in Wesel, the guards in Magdeburg appeared to love to gossip. During his stay La Fayette was kept more or less up to date on the newest developments in France and the war. Eight months into his stay in Magdeburg he was also given some news about his wife Adrienne. La Fayette wrote Charles Pinckney in London on July 4, 1793:

My dear Sir,

Whilst on this anniversary my American fellow citizens are having their joy, I join in a solitary bumper with the happy remembrances, the patriotic wishes which are crowding upon us (...) Owning to your kind interference, my dear Sir, the crowned gaolers have consented after eight months to let me know that my wife and children were alive – be pleased to acquaint them that my health is tolerably good (...).

(Can we please acknowledge the fact that La Fayette took the time out of his day and remembered that it was the anniversary of American Independence?)

There is another letter that I want to give the spotlight. La Fayette wrote on March 15, 1793 to his friend, the Princess d’Hénin. In this letter he wrote that:

“I know not what disposition has been made of my plantation at Cayenne; but I hope Madame de Lafayette will take care that the negroes, who cultivated it, shall preserve their liberty.”

La Fayette had bought a plantation in the French colony of Cayenne and implemented a system of gradual emancipation. The plantation was later sold by French authorities and the people there re-enslaved. Although his endeavour ultimately failed I found it interesting to see that La Fayette, even during such a dark hour, thought about others as well.

Before we move on to the next prison, this time in Neisse, on last titbit. The Baron von Steuben, the absolutely legendary legend, was born in Magdeburg and as a man of military background probably spend some time in the fortress as well.

[theliterateape]

I Like to Watch | Succession (HBO)

by Don Hall

I had been asked to participate in roasts before this one. While not a stand up comic, I could pull off the derisive meanness of the occasion successfully. The balance of speaking insulting truth but keeping it funny was usually solid. Except that for this specific roast, I had an axe to grind.

It was a roast of my former employer and friend who had fired me for standing my ground against an entitled Chicago super-producer who wanted one of my stage managers fired for doing her job. It was fresh, the organizers knew it, they anticipated I would be more than necessarily vicious, and they were right.

It was less funny and more just mean-spirited. It sounded like a roast, the construction of language was in the form of jokes, but the tone underneath and permeated throughout was nothing less than acid reflux vomited upon my beleaguered friend. People laughed in the first half but stopped laughing by the end. I believe that it must've been like the scene from The Untouchables where DeNiro (as Capone) is talking baseball. Lots of good natured guffaws until he takes the bat and bashes the man's skull in.

It was supposed to be funny but it decidedly was not.

I like roasts. The old Dean Martin Friar's Club roasts were fun, funny, and demonstrated the good natured ball busting of friendship in an earlier age. The Jeff Ross Comedy Central roasts miss out on having actual friends knock each other's nuts around but mostly get funny people to do the cookery. Once in a while, though, Ross books someone who doesn't quite understand the humor and it feels off.

Edward Norton roasting Bruce Willis is a perfect example. Norton is a more serious guy with a few issues of his own. I'm certain he had legit joke writers pen his insults but his delivery felt strange and uncomfortable. It flopped but in a way that you can't quite look away like seeing a decapitated head roll out of a Honda after an accident with a huge grin on the face.

Imagine Seinfeld performed by Christian Bale as Jerry, Edward Norton as George, Cate Blanchett as Elaine, Daniel Day-Lewis as Kramer.

JERRY: So three dates and she still won't let me play with her toys.

KRAMER: That's interesting. You know someone mentioned to me you were not very happy with your toys growing up.

JERRY: Yeah, that was me.

KRAMER: Oh, that's right, right, right. And uh you mentioned that uh, you didn't get a G.I. Joe. You had.

JERRY: An Army Pete.

KRAMER: Right.

JERRY: He was made of wood and in the rain he would swell up and then split.

KRAMER: And we all know how painful that can be.

ELAINE: Jerry

KRAMER: Oh, Elaine Benes. Well, this is quite a thrill, yes. Come on sit down. Yes.

ELAINE: Well, I'll tell ya, this sidler guy is really chapping my hide.

KRAMER: Excuse me yeah. We're talking ... this way.

ELAINE: Well, he's getting credit for work I did! He's gonna sidle me right out of a job.

KRAMER: Now, for those of us who don't know, uh, sidling is what?

ELAINE: Kramer, what is wrong with you?

KRAMER: What do you mean?

ELAINE: Well, for starters, you're looking at note cards I'm gonna have to give that guy a taste

of his own medicine, so, I'm going to sidle the sidler.

JERRY: You, sidle? You ... you stomp around like a Clydesdale!

ELAINE: Not with these honeys. ... Wrestling shoes!

KRAMER: Only in New York. ... ha ha

GEORGE: Jerry?

KRAMER: Oh! Well, ladies and gentlemen! It's our good friend, George Costanza! What a surprise!

Yeah, sit, sit, sit.. Weeell!

GEORGE: Well, it happened again.

JERRY: What happened?

KRAMER: tut tut , I'll ask the questions. What happened?

GEORGE: Well, I just stomped some pigeons in the park. They - they didn't move.

KRAMER: All right, let's change the subject. Now, uh you and Jerry dated for a while. Tell us ... what

was that like? That was the wrong card.

GEORGE: I I don't get these birds! They're breaking the deal. It's like the pigeons decided to ignore me!

JERRY: So they're like everyone else.

The episode plays out as such:

George (Norton) is accidentally massacring the pigeons who, for some reason, are breaking “the deal,” Elaine (Blanchet) is creeped out by a new employee who keeps sidling on her so she decides to sidle him, and Jerry (Bale) is upset that the woman he’s dating won’t let him play with her incredible toy collection so he drugs her. It all goes from bad to worse when Norton runs over a squirrel and spends a fortune to save its life, Blanchet’s plan to sidle the "sidler" backfires causing her to give him some noise-making Tic-Tacs which annoy Peterman, and Bale keeps drugging his girlfriend so that he, Norton and Blanchet can play with her toys. Unfortunately for Bale, Kramer (Day-Lewis) exposes him on his show, now in the format Scandals and Animals. Meanwhile, birds get revenge on Norton when a hawk attacks him and his new pet squirrel.

The intent is funny but the delivery is off. The tone shifts and the inhumanity of sociopathy rears up in full force.

I grew up with Dallas, Knots Landing, Dynasty. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. There was a fascination in the eighties with the high drama of fabulously wealthy people doing shitty things to one another. This wasn't new—Shakespeare made his bones with plays about kings and queens fucking each other over for pleasure and power. We plebes on the lower end of the American caste system seem to eat this up with plastic cutlery, the gravy of lust and intrigue set in Tuscany villas dripping from our chins in huge dollops.

I was never much of a fan but I'll admit to being sucked in a bit by this half worship/half disdain for those in the upper crust cutting each other's throats. Live a lifetime and the fascination fades like ocean sounds from a sleep aid box.

Then I caught an episode of Billions.

Paul Giamatti as U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York Chuck Roades versus Damian Lewis as Peter Thiel tech billionaire Bobby Axelrod with writing that stinks of lofty Shakespearean ambitions, this was some fantastic television.

With spectacular lines like:

"Deflating like a Tijuana breast implant."

"I miss him like the case of crabs I had freshman year."

"Dumping like a drey horse on an all taco diet."

I couldn't get enough.

So when Adam McKay was said to be producing a series about the Roys (a proxy for Rupert Murdoch's tabloid kingdom) I was hesitant but interested. Like so many of the most popular things on television, I waited while the breathless masses consumed it, tweeted about it, wrote thinkpieces about it, all while casually avoiding spoilers in general.

Two months ago, I thought "What the hell?" I dove in to the putrid waters of Succession.

I hated it. I loved it. But I really hated it. I loved the score (especially the opening which I ended up watching every single episode because the music is so ridiculously Punch Drunk Love perfect). I hated every character, every scene, every moment. 

Jeremy Strong as Kendall Roy, the heir apparent but struggling so hard to be a badass with a hip hop soul I wanted to run from the room every time he appeared. Sarah Snook as Siobhan "Shiv" Roy, the daughter who I thought might be the one decent person in the family but who is as sucky and conniving as the rest. Kieran Culkin as Roman Roy (yes, that Kieran Culkin) the fuck up brother with an acid tongue. Alan Ruck as Connor Roy (yes, that Alan Ruck) the only child from Logan Roy's first marriage.

Brian Cox heads the whole thing as Logan Roy, the old school villain in charge.

This series is like King Lear if Shakespeare decided to write a thirty-hour version that simply kept repeating the basic plot line over and over. The three seasons are thin as rice paper in terms of plot: Logan is looking for a replacement from one of his three children, all spoiled, entitled morons (thus the name of the series), Kendall tries to kill him and fails, Shiv tries to ingratiate him with her sub par knowledge and unwarranted savvy, Roman cracks wise and sucks up to get ahead, and Connor is sidelined but fine with living off the teat of privilege just as long as the milk never runs dry.

There are no redeemable characters in this. Everyone from cousin Greg to husband Tom to wives, girlfriends, compatriots in business, reveal themselves to be completely devoid of any human capacity for empathy or self reflection. This is an entire show devoted to the most cutthroat, broken whores in existence.

Should be a barrel of laughs, right? I mean, Adam McKay and Will Ferrell are co-producers, right? Cue the laugh track and the slight mugging.

But, no.

The script reads like a Seinfeld episode but the actors play this straight as an arrow. The disconnect in style, in tone, makes it bizarrely interesting. Interesting enough to keep me glued to every word, every glance, every stupid dick pic sent by mistake as if these awful people could really be this horrifying in life and not be murdered by the help in two episodes.

Succession is a bowl of olive-flavored ice cream. The contrast between what you think you're getting and what you inevitably put in your mouth creates a cognitive dissonance that can't be dismissed. You keep eating it because you are in denial that it looks like chocolate mint but tastes like a pimento loaf.

I can't wait for season four.

[fanfics4all]

Painless

Request: Yes / No 

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3200

Warnings: SCHOOL BOMBING, CURSING, it’s criminal minds so read at your own risk! 

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Another day at work. Another day of someone dead. I thought as I walked into the office. I saw everyone was already in the round table room and sighed. Another case. I put my stuff down at my desk and walked into the room. I took my seat next to my boyfriend Spencer and gave a smile at everyone. 

“Does anyone remember this picture?” Garcia asked, bringing up a picture of a man and a girl looking distressed. 

“Hotch and I were there. That’s Principal Doug Gavens. We had to drag him to safety.” Rossi said, making everyone look at him. 

“High school bombing in Boise, right?” Emily asked. 

“School shooter and school bomber.” JJ said and it triggered my memory. 

“A kid named Randy Slade shot three students and then set off an I.E.D. in the cafeteria via cell phone, killing himself and thirteen kids total, but not before posting all his plans online.” I said and Garcia nodded. 

“It was one of those “Where were you?” events. My whole campus was glued to the T.V..” JJ said. 

“Last night, Principal Givens was killed by a bomb modeled exactly like the old one.” Garcia said. 

“It feels like the unsub wants to attack the man who kept the school together after the bombing. It’s a pretty symbolic target.” Morgan said. 

“And this week is the tenth anniversary of the massacre.” Hotch said. 

“And today is the first day of a four day event to commemorate the bombing at the school.” Garcia said. 

“Except commemorating it isn’t enough for this unsub.” Emily said. 

“No. He wants to relive it.” Hotch said. We gathered our things and got on the plane. We were all sitting down and going over the case files. 

“Perpetrators of school violence are often sophisticated with their weapons. Randy Slade carried his bomb in his backpack. This guy hid his in Givens’ clock radio.” Spencer said. 

“Yeah, and progressive. Each one tries to top the body count of the one previous.”  

“And they’re loners by default, not by choice. They try to join various social groups, but they get shut out.” JJ said. 

“Randy Slade wasn’t a loner at all.” Hotch said. 

“The family cooperated fully with us. He was a high-functioning psychopath, straight-A student, varsity wrestler, lots of girlfriends.” Rossi said. 

“With an above-average intelligence that made him incredibly resourceful. His explosive of choice was Semtex.” I said looking at the files. 

“It’s found at demolition sites, but it’s held under lock and key.” Spencer said. 

“Which made us consider the possibility of a partner. Never found one.” Rossi said. 

“Slade was too much of a narcissist to share credit. But he was also an impulsive teen, which is what bothers me about this unsub.” Hotch said. 

“His sense of control?” Emily asked. 

“And the end game that he’s working toward.” Hotch answered with a nod. 

“Slade’s pathology revolved around the big kill. This unsub could have done the same if he’d waited for the candlelight vigil.” Hotch added. 

“Which means there’s no blaze of glory fantasy here. This unsub has more bombs made, and he’s savoring the anticipation of his next attack.” Rossi said. After we talked everyone moved to their own spots to think and relax before we had the hard work to do. I sat next to Spencer and smiled at him. 

“This poor town.” I said and he sighed. 

“I know, but the odds are against them in this situation.” He said and I nodded. 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it sucks any less.” I said and he nodded. 

“It’s a hard thing to deal with.” He said. 

“Yeah…” I sighed. We tried to keep our minds on things that would help us, instead of how much people were hurting right now. 

As soon as we landed we dropped our stuff off at our hotel then split up. Hotch and Rossi went to the station with Emily and Morgan. Spencer, JJ and I went to the crime scene. We walked inside and it was a mess, not shocking though considering what happened. 

“Okay, so the unsub has to be tied to the school somehow, right?” JJ asked. 

“Current student, alumni, family member who lost someone…” I listed off. 

“It could be Slade groupies celebrating his hero. He taped nails to the exterior of the bomb, specifically to rip open flesh. That’s a sadistic detail of Slade’s the unsub copied.” Spencer said. 

“Except he tricked Givens into blowing himself up. A groupie probably wouldn’t show that much self-control.” JJ said. 

“But someone with an ax to grind against the principal would. Maybe he’s a surrogate for the tomenters in high school he can’t punish.” Spencer said. 

“Who were yours?” He asked us. 

“I don’t even remember.” JJ answered. 

“You don’t even remember? Wait, were you one of those mean girls?” Spencer questioned. 

“No.” JJ said. 

“Valedictorian, soccer scholarship, corn-fed, but still a size zero. I think that you might have been a mean girl.” Spencer said. 

“Spence.” I said. 

“I was actually one of the nice girls, even to guys like you.” JJ answered and I shook my head. There was no stopping this now. 

“Guys like me? I’ll have you know that my social standing increased once I started winning at basketball.” Spencer said, I always forget that he coached basketball. 

“Oh yeah? You played basketball?” JJ asked. 

“Actually he coached it.” I answered. 

“You coached it?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I broke down the opposing team’s shooting strategy.” He said. 

“Is that why Morgan kicked you two out of the pool last week?” She asked. 

“Yeah, it took him three rounds to realize we were hustling him.” I answered with a laugh. 

“Huh.” She said and we went back to looking at the crime scene. As soon as we were done looking we got a call about another murder. So we made our way there. The three of us looked around and JJ decided to call Hotch and tell him.

“You’re on speaker JJ.” Hotch answered. 

“So, we might have another one.” She said. 

“Might?” He asked. 

“One of the North Valley alumni was killed in her motel room.” She answered. 

“No bomb or gun this time. Looks like he used his bare hands.” I added. 

“You got a name?” Hotch asked. 

“Chelsea Grant.” Spencer answered. 

The next day Spencer and I returned to the crime scene with Hotch. It was good to come back and look at it with fresh eyes. 

“The unsub crushed Chelsea’s throat so she couldn’t scream, then he pulverized her ribs, sending fragments of bone into her heart.” Spencer said. 

“Principal Givens was high-profile. Chelsea wasn’t. Right now the only thing connecting them is they’re both on the kill list.” Hotch said. 

“A list that Brandon kept secret for ten years, but he was in custody when this happened. So the question is, how did the unsub get the exact same list?” I asked. 

“Well, we ruled out a partner, but not conclusively.” Hotch said. 

“Slade made every part of his plan public. It doesn’t make sense that he would hide a partner.” Spencer said. 

“He didn’t want to share the credit. And this weekend is the partner’s best chance to claim it.” Hotch said. 

“Let’s go back to the station, we have a profile to deliver.” He said and we followed him. 

When we got back to the station we gathered everyone up and we were ready to deliver the profile. 

“Partners of dominant psychopaths are usually submissive, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be intelligent or that they’re physically weak.” Hotch said. 

“This unsub laid low after the bombing and successfully evaded police and FBI. That took cunning and patience, which he’s exhibiting now with his current murders.” Morgan said. 

“We think he fits the loner profile Slade debunked. He grew up in an abusive home, which kept him from forming the normal social bonds in high school.” JJ said. 

“We interviewed all the outcasts from back then. How did this guy slip through?” Chief Cole asked. 

“Even outcasts eventually form friendships. But this unsub was the outcast the outcasts rejected.” Spencer said. 

“Exactly, he won’t stand out in any capacity, and as a matter of fact, most of his fellow students probably won’t even remember graduating with him.” I said. 

“And that invisibility is what made him attractive to Slade. This partner wouldn’t steal the spotlight.” Rossi said. 

“Slade targeted the cafeteria because most of the names on his list ate there together during fifth period.” Spencer said. 

“So his hatred festered when the names on the list emerged from the cafeteria as media heroes. And now he wants to finish the job that Randy started.” Morgan said. 

“Emotionally, this weekend is more a high school reunion to him than a memorial. We go to reunions to show who we grew up to be. Often that means changing everything about who we were.” Rossi said. 

“Consciously or not, Randy Slade revealed clues as to his partner’s identity when he detonated his bomb. Agent Prentiss will be conducting cognitive interviews to see what the survivors might remember.” Hotch said. We answered a few questions the cops had then went on to try and work out who this guy could be. Emily was with the survivors now working on them. 

“So, as you can see from your board there, this kill list is weirdly similar to high school. 

“Group on is like the popular kids, prom court, football team, dean’s list. The Heathers, if you will.” Garcia said. 

“Kids in Slade’s social circle.” Hotch said. 

“What about number two?” JJ asked. 

“Uh, mmhmm, that would be the kids from the other side of the tracks, 180-degree difference, kids this close to getting kicked out, Stoners, burnouts, mental cases. Chelsea Grant is on this list.” Garcia said. 

“Maybe Slade targeted them because they disgusted him?” JJ asked while Spencer’s phone was ringing. We have been doing a lot of that since we got here. 

“But they didn’t threaten Slade’s sense of superiority. He wouldn’t have even cared about them.” Hotch said as we ignored Spencer’s phone. 

“So maybe the partner put them on the list. They’d be closer to his social status than Slade’s.” I said as Spencer’s phone stopped ringing. 

“Why would the-” Spencer was cut off by his phone ringing again. 

“I’m so sorry.” He said, taking his phone out and hung up. 

“Why would the unsub list kids that he fit in with?” Spencer asked, putting his phone away again. 

“Apparently that’s how this clique worked. The kids in it were meaner to each other than kids on the outside. Garcia, separate out all the kids who got into trouble regularly. Then eliminate the names that the partner put on the list. Now, who’s left that came to the memorial?” Hotch asked. 

“Right. Whoever made the list wouldn’t put their name on it. Uh… sir, I think- I think I’ve got him. His name is Lewis Ramsey.” Garcia said. 

“Where is he?” Hotch asked. 

“Uhh… According to his cell phone he’s at a local bar.” She answered. 

“Send it to Morgan’s phone.” Hotch ordered and called him. Morgan brought him in and him and Hotch started interviewing him. Once they were done they told the rest of us. 

“You buy it?” Emily asked. 

“He fits the profile, and the evidence points to him, but he seems sincere.” Hotch said. 

“He’s not the unsub. He was the partner, but look at how Slade added “All the losers in this Godforsaken school.” This capitalization isn’t an accident. Look.” Spencer said and wrote it on the white board. 

“L-S-R, Lewis Stuart Ramsey.” He said. 

“So Slade named his own partner.” I said. 

“Ironically, Lewis’ marijuana addiction saved his life.” He said with a nod. 

“Well, that puts us back to our original problem. If the unsub isn’t the partner, how did he get his hands on a list that Slade and Lewis kept to themselves?” I asked. 

“The only answer is that part of the profile is wrong. The unsub’s vendetta has nothing to do with the list. Did you get anything from Jerry Holtz?” Hotch asked Emily. 

“Only that he mixed up the cell phones that Slade used. It felt like he was making the story up, but I only had a hunch.” Emily said. 

“We need to find him now. There’s a connection to the victimology that we’re missing. Whatever he’s holding back might be the key.” Hotch said. We found Jerry, but he was dead. He was killed at the school. We made our way there and Emily met us there. 

“Jerry Holtz? How long?” She asked. 

“Less than an hour. Security guard heard the commotion, but the unsub was already gone.” JJ answered. 

“The only people who knew we were doing the cognitive interviews were the other survivors. The unsub must be part of that group.” Emily said. 

“Well, we don’t know that for a fact. He could have been lying in wait.” I said. 

“Look, Hotch wants me to go through the victims’ lives and find the overlaps. We can compare their histories with the unsub’s.” JJ said. 

“What else do we have to go on?” Emily asked, looking at Spencer and I. 

“Spence said the unsub would have broken his hand beating Chelsea to death. Did you notice anyone with a cast on their hand, someone who seemed hurt?” JJ asked. 

“No.” Emily shook her head. 

“I might know why.” Spencer said and we all looked at him. 

“This unsub doesn’t feel pain.” He said. 

“You mean he has pain asymbolia?” I asked and he nodded.

“We need to get back to the station. Spencer told them about his theorie and no one understood what he was saying.  

“In english for the other people in the room.” Morgan asked. 

“There’s a medical condition called pain asymbolia, where patients register harmful stimuli without being bothered by it. They’ve been documented holding their hand over an open flame because their brain doesn’t send pain signals to the central nervous system.” Spencer explained. 

“Sounds pretty rare. You sure the unsub has it?” Rossi asked. 

“The crime scenes prove it. Once Spencer said it, everything clicked. He displayed an unusual level of savagery towards his victims. And consider this, he smashed through a glass display case, but there were no cuts on Jerry. That means he most likely punched through it as a show of force.” I said. 

“Now, the only way the human body could withstand that level of pain is if he couldn’t feel it at all.” Spencer added. 

“It must take a major toll on someone’s emotional development.” Rossi said and Spencer’s phone rang… again. 

“A significant contributor to our sense of empathy is the way we personally experience pain.” Morgan said and Spencer silenced his phone again. 

“And the unsub didn’t develop his sense of empathy because it was cut off. Does every person with Asymbolia have this?” Hotch asked. 

“Actually, most feel empathy just fine, which makes me think the rest of our profile is still accurate. Loner, invisible, outcast, boiling rage- Son of a bitch!” Spencer said, pulling out his ringing cell phone and answered it. I notice Morgan trying to hide a smirk. 

“Hi! This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I actually can come to the phone right now with a very special message that your mother is-” 

“Reid.” Hotch cut him off and he hung up. 

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Where were we?” He asked, putting his phone away. 

“I’m going to have Garcia check medical records. Uh, what causes Asymbolia?” Hotch asked. 

“Ssss- Severe trauma produces lesions on the insular cortex, usually after a stroke but this unsub’s so young, it’s most likely caused by an external factor.” Spencer said looking at Morgan the whole time. 

“Like a bomb going off next to him?” Rossi asked. 

“Yeah, like a bomb going off next to him.” He repeated at Morgan. Morgan just smirked and Hotch walked off to talk to Garcia. 

“I will crush you.” Spencer whispered. 

“What?” Morgan asked. 

“What?” Spencer repeated and walked off. I looked at Rossi and shook my head with a smirk. 

“You two are seriously pranking each other while on a case?” I asked and Morgan just smiled. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said and I shook my head again. I swear these two… 

JJ and Emily came by a little later with some new information. JJ was rearranging some pictures on the board. We looked on with confusion. 

“Recognize the top ten?” JJ asked. 

“No.” Hotch answered. 

“They were the students that went in front of the cameras after the bombing.” She answered. 

“I thought all the surviving students were interviewed?” I asked.

“After the initial aftermath, yes, but these are the kids that went on talk shows, traveled to other schools. My guess is that they didn’t self-select who made the cut.” JJ said. 

“Principal Givens did.” Hotch said. 

“That’s why the unsub killed him first. He was an outcast who wanted to fit in. Being a survivor should have been his golden ticket.” She said. 

“But he was excluded again, and that’s why he’s killing them.” I said. 

“Yeah. The rules of high school never changed, not even after a tragedy.” JJ said. Hotch’s phone rang and he put it on speaker. 

“Go ahead, Garcia.” He said. 

“Hey, listen up. I crossed-referenced student files with medical records. Now, there were six kids that were knocked unconscious in that blast, but only one fit the outcast profile. His name is Robert Adams, and he just used his credit card at a local restaurant, the address of which I just sent you right now.” She said. 

“I’m on my way.” Hotch said looking at us. Hotch gathered everyone up and JJ and I stayed back. When they came back Robert wasn’t with them. Hotch had to shoot him, there was no other way this was going to end. Once we got everything sorted we got on the plane to go home. I was sitting next to Spencer, who was resting his head on my shoulder while I read a book. We were sitting across from Morgan and Emily, Morgan was listening to music and Emily was reading a paper. He took his headphones off and we heard Spencer screaming from them. 

“Okay, kid, that was cute. But that’s all you got?” Morgan asked him, he was very clearly pretending to be asleep. Morgan’s cell ran and he answered it. 

“Hey baby girl-” He was cut off by Spencer screaming coming through his phone. Spencer had a smile on his face and Rossi held up a white napkin. 

“Uh-uh. Alright, Reid, it’s on. Just know that paybacks are a bitch.” Morgan said. Spencer just responded with snoring. I shook my head at the two of them. 

“You started this Morgan, it’s your own fault.” I said with a slight laugh. 

“Of course you’re taking his side, Y/N.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Well I am dating him, so yes I’m taking his side.” I said and Rossi chuckled. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @softgamerking @lady-of-lies @simonsbluee @ravenmoore14 @maynardqueen101 @pettyjayy​ @reidssmile​ @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer 

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Safe And Sound

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Angst, Suicide, Character Death, Blood. *Please heed those warnings*

A/N: Contains the lyrics from the song Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars.  Thank you to @sorenmarie87​ fro making the header and to @fictionalabyss​ for being my Beta. 

      The werewolf had come out of nowhere. You were doing a sweep of an abandoned building, looking for what you hoped would be human survivors of the massacre. He must have been hiding in the shadows, waiting for his opportunity to escape. He lunged and knocked you to the ground, pinning you down. You screamed for Dean as the monster tore at you with his claws. 

“Get the fuck off of her!” Dean yells from the stairs. A shot sounds and the beast falls on top of you dead. You can feel the blood pooling around you, but you can’t tell if it’s yours or his. Your brain is fuzzy and limbs heavy. You’re numb to the pain you should be feeling. 

Dean pushes the body off of you, cradling you in his arms. He yells for Sam. “You can’t leave me, baby. You can’t.” 

“Dean, it’s okay. I’m not going to leave you.” He pushes a hair out of your sweaty face and kisses your lips. Cas, I don’t know where you are, man, but she needs you. I need you.

“Hey, Dean,” You cough, blood spilling from your lips. Dean looks horrified, yelling for Sam again. He wipes at the blood and sweat, tears forming in his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So, so much.” 

“Dean, sing for me. Please.”  You take shallow breaths and your eyes are heavy. Dean can feel you slipping away. 

“Of course, baby,” He clears his throat. “Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.” 

You give Dean a weak smile, your eyes close. Dean’s voice cracks, but he keeps going. He’ll give you this. “Don't you dare look out your window, darling everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby even when the music’s gone.” 

Your face relaxes and breathing stops. Dean clutches you closer, giving in to the sobs. He chokes on them. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to keep you safe. Fuck, where was Cas when he needed him? He had lost so many people, but damn it he could not live without you. He couldn’t. 

Dean gently lays you down before laying beside you. He wraps himself around you, enjoying the feel of your body against his one more time. “Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.” Dean pulls your blade from the holster on your hip. He’d had it made for you. It seems fitting that it will be his end. He takes a deep breath and pulls it across his throat. 

      “Dean? Y/N?” Sam shouts, making his way through the old building. He had followed a stray werewolf into the woods surrounding the place. “Guys, seriously you better not be f-” Sam’s sentence dies when he steps into the basement. Dean’s body is wrapped around yours, his neck split open and the knife still in his hand. Your body is mangled and bloody, the culprit laying feet from you. “FUCK,” Sam screams, falling to his knees. His best friend and brother are gone. He’s all alone. He’s shaking and yelling. Cursing Cas for not being around, Dean for leaving him alone, and you for making him fall in love with life again only to get your dumb ass killed by werewolf. 

Sam pulls himself from the floor and takes the keys to Baby from Dean’s pocket. “I’ll take care of her. I promise,” he tells him, his voice hoarse. He knows what he has to do, but damn the thought hurts. You’ve all come back from so much, but this time he knows there’ll be no returning for you and Dean. At least, you’re together wherever you are. 

Sam finds a container of gasoline and dumps it around the two of you and all over the monster. He makes a trail of it to the stairs where he stands. Pulling a match from his pocket, he lights it and whispers a goodbye, tears rolling down his face. He drops the match and watches the flames rise before turning his back to leave. 

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers​, @sorenmarie87​, @fictionalabyss​

[jay-and-dean]

I don’t need you  Chapter 3 : One call away

Dean x reader

Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?

This is a request by @magssteenkamp​ that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.

Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.

Chapter warnings :  Swearing (duh). Mention of death, blood, decapitation and all, violence. Sexual tension and inappropriate sexual tension... In a way. Angst ? Now clearly Jealous Dean.

Words : 3.2 k (woops)

Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You

If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***

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1.      ONE CALL AWAY

  Dean’s Pov

             I’m pacing up and down like a caged lion. Ready to run, ready to bite.

The club’s building is silent from outside, the night is somehow darker here. I’m going crazy. Sam insisted that I shouldn’t make a move for now, that we only will make her plan fail. He barely accepted that we get out of her apartment, saying she will need to know where to find the cure when she’s done.

And we had to search the address of this damn bar ourselves, she never gave it and hid every clues that could lead us to it. Of course Google doesn’t know an “H” vampire club so that took way too much time.

           Two hours later we finally found it… Who knows what could have happened since then. Two fucking hours. Maybe she’s dead, maybe she fed…

“Dean !” my brother calls from Joe’s shitty car. “Come here, they will spot you !”

“We should be inside Sam !” I grunt, rubbing my face.

 Reader’s Pov

             I’m dizzy, and my blood is burning. The hunger is pounding in my head making it hard to focus, but the fact that no heart is beating here helps a lot.

           The lights and the music are painful and I lean to the bar, trying to look as relaxed as I can.

           If the discussions weren’t about killing, it would look like an ordinary club, with all this sexual tension and frustration in the air. With that hint of sad desperation behind the loud electro notes and the laughs.

           Except most people here look too young to be in a club and I can’t help but get shivers of disgust, thinking of the fact that this son of a bitch almost only turns and feeds on teens.

           Holloway is nowhere to be seen for now. I have to hurry, I only have tonight. I’m looking around but my pupils have to fight against the stroboscope.

“You’re new” a pretty guy says, coming closer.

“I am” I nod.

“And a new vampire as well” a smirk appears to his somehow angelic face. “You seem to be starving honey.”

“I am” I admit, the craving unbearable.

“And you’re pretty… Did H invited you ?” he asks, eyeing me up and down with a predatory smirk on the corner of his mouth.

“I was told to go to him” I lie, frowning at the blood on his breath. “But I have no idea where he is or what he looks like. I only know the guy who turned me said I could be his queen…” I say making myself look a little dumber. “I want to be a queen !”

The pretty guy chuckles. And I swallow hard at the memory of the vampires putting me on the car, joking at how much I was his type, calling me future queen mockingly, while 12 years old me was choking on sobs and calling for help.

“Yeah… We spot the girls for him at the entrance but… as you’re older than his usual taste, we must have missed this one… Follow me.”

           He takes my hand, sanding shivers down my spine, and gives me a false innocent smile. I follow him, moving across the room, looking at boys and girls that clearly didn’t have time to finish growing up before they got turned.

           At the opposite of the huge room, a spiral staircase that I didn’t even notice. How could I miss that ?

           We get up slowly, his hand not leaving mine. And while my other palm finds the metallic handrail, Dean Winchester’s face appears in my mind.

I used to imagine he was with me, when I had to do something scary, and now, it’s like my brain got used to it.

I know his face, his voice, I know his smell now ; and I will never admit how much it helps -when nausea and something feeling like fever hit my body- to carry, once again, my hero with me.

The smell of blood suddenly makes me dizzy, and my mouth is watering. I can’t feed, I can’t. I would rather die than turn into one of those crap… And I would rather not go to Purgatory too.

Focus on the blade in your back, Y/n, one movement of your arm. Use the strength, the velocity. Use their weapons against them.

Upstairs, a little mezzanine with a huge sofa, a coffee table with glasses and knives. At the end of the sofa, a lifeless body. The corpse of a pretty girl, she must be sixteen, and is wearing too much makeup for a girl so young. Her open eyes are staring behind me and I recognize her, Maggie something, she disappeared two years ago.

Next to her, a little group of young people, boys and girls, all pretty and looking like they were high. On blood, maybe something else.

They are ignoring the corpse just inches away from them, they are ignoring our intrusion. They are unwary, feeling like nothing could reach them. Good.

“H ?” says the guy holding my hand and everybody turns to us.

“My my…” says one of them on the center of the sofa, his soft features turning to me.

Bright blue eyes pierce me. An insolent smile appears on the corner of his childish mouth, giving him that vain expression that makes most people want to slap those kids, spoiled, conceited…

Holloway.

Holloway is a freaking kid.

If my research are correct, he has been a teen for more than two hundred years. Stuck in the vanity of youth, capricious and insatiable. A monster child, with power and money ; making other monster children, a collection of toys, breaking them occasionally… This is frightening.

“Who turned her ?” he pouts.

“Jimmy” I answer.

A weird scary laugh escapes him and he opens his arms to invite me.

“Jimmy ? That little bastard is dead for sure !” Holloway laughs while I sit next to him. “He knows I keep this kind for me. Are you hungry baby ?” he murmurs, putting a hand on my thigh. “Tell me what kind of meal you would like, and I’ll ask my people to go to the storehouse… Male ? Female ?...”

Dean Winchester. This thought comes again and I shake my head.

I look around cautiously, my ears whistling.

I can’t feed.

I can’t.

 Dean’s Pov

              Suddenly, screams.

           I jump on my feet and run to the entrance, Sam and Joe behind me. My gun in my hand I push the door but it’s locked, and even with our combined forces, we can break that iron door. I hit the door hard, hoping someone will open, but the screams get worse and gunshots echo like they were far. The sounds of bodies hitting the door echoes in the night.

           When it finally opens brutally, making me fall on my butt, it’s to let out a whole crowd of panicked vampires, going every directions. Some of them are hurt or have burning clothes, they try to get rid of it, but it’s like the flames were sticky.

           Sam and Joe start cutting the heads of the panicked, running monsters. Hunter instinct. I have never seen a scene like this, they stand no chance in their panic and confusion : this is a massacre.

I struggle to get up, constantly jostled by the panic movement. By the time I’m finally on my feet, the inside of the building is burning loudly, a thick smoke escaping it. It’s like an apocalypse, and I really hope she’s the one raising Hell.

“Y/N !” I try, stepping inside the building.

It’s burning hot inside, I cough, frowning to see something in that Hell of light and flames.

           I hear gun shots and screams, but I can’t see anything besides silhouettes moving and corpses being eaten way too fast by those magical flames.

           I can’t stand the heat, and I can barely breathe.

“Y/N !” I try again, but opening my mouth makes me cough so hard, my lungs instantly hurt.

“Dean !” my brother’s hand grabs me to make me walk back to the door.

“Y/N !... She’s still in there Sam !” I try to talk but my own words are suffocating me, tears forming in my eyes to fight the smoke in vain.

My brother keeps tugging at my shoulders and I almost trip.

           When I’m finally about to walk down to follow Sam, stunned, a silhouette come out of this Hell : Y/n.

Her bloody form, walking straight to the door with a teen’s head in her hand, holding it by the hair, a long knife in the other hand.

Fierce and scary. Her eyes red, her skin covered in blood like she had bathed in it. Looking like she was born from the flames. Like she was made of them.

Beautiful.

           I can’t help but smile when she reaches the door, never letting go the head she has in her hand, looking right back at me.

           But when she smiles back… her teeth are different and her eyes are glowing with a hunger I have only seen on monster’s face.

“Y/n…” I lift my hands in surrender. “You didn’t feed, did you ?”

She shakes her head and I let out a long sigh of relief.

“Dean…” she whispers.

I frown, taking a step back.

“Dean… I…” her voice is hungry, and I know how she feels, desperate to bite, the reasons why she shouldn’t slowly wilting in her mind. “Tie me” she almost whines.

My heart fasten, and I know it’s not helping her, but that desperate desire in her voice, this tone…

“Please…” she now whines, pain written all over her face.

“We will just give you the cure” Sam tries, getting closer.

“NO !” she yells, hiding her face in her free hand, spreading the monster blood over her pale cheeks. “NOW !”

           I can see Joe running to the car and jog back with handcuffs from the corner of my eyes. Y/n’s glare never leaves me, going from my throat to my lips, she’s licking hers. I know I really shouldn’t be aroused by that…

I know.

“Why the head” I ask cautiously, not making a move.

I don’t want her to attack me because she’s strong and armed, but mostly because she’s probably one of the best fighter I’ve seen.

If she makes a move, one of us will get hurt.

“I need it to be on the news” she says, but a slight growl leave her lips. “I need those fuckers to know hunters took back this town…”

Her pupils dilate and her breathing fasten, she’s almost panting now. Time seems to slow, every muscle of my body is tense, on alert.

“Okay, Y/n, don’t move” Joe says, taking her wrist to tie it on her back.

She lets her hand down cautiously, still staring at me, despite the proximity of her friend. Everyone is walking on eggshells. Sam comes closer to take the head, promising her he will put it in the car and she will decide what to do with it when she wants ; no need to make her angry.

           But something feral catching fire in her eyes and I know it’s too late.

“Joe…” I call cautiously. “Come back.”

“I’m almost…” he starts.

But with one fast and powerful movement, she throws him a few feet away. Then she runs to me.

           My arms stop her from ripping my throat but her force is supernatural, I push her on the side brutally, but it doesn’t even makes her stumble, her fighting skills too sharp.

           She uses her legs now on the side of my body to trip me, making me kneel violently before I can anticipate her moves and she grabs my hair so hard, I’m force to look up, my neck exposed.

           My arm grab her shoulder but she bends it with her free hand.

“RAH !” I groan as something snaps in my body.

           Sam tries to step in, but he’s stopped short by the end of her blade right on his Adam’s apple.

           She’s somehow holding Sam and me still.

“We’ve got the cure Y/n” Sam tries, swallowing against the blade. “We can stop the hunger. If you give in to it now, you will feel it forever…”

She sighs and pushes slightly on her weapon, making Sam take a step back before it pierces his skin.

“Back” she orders.

“I’m not letting you feed, and I’m not letting you kill my brother” Sam states.

Suddenly, she cuts his cheek with a fast movement, showing us clearly that she could have killed him just like that.

“BACK OFF !”

“I can’t do that” my brother insists, making her squeeze my hair even more in frustration.

She won’t kill me.

I know that now.

Sam’s blood is spreading on his face, I know how irresistible it has to be for her.

She could have killed him. She didn’t.

She’s in control. She’s strong. I have to trust her.

“Sam back off” I grunt.

“Dean…”

“Sam ! Now !”

The second he walks back, she squats beside me, searching my eyes. She’s scary, but she’s also terrified, I can see it now that she’s so close.

“You’re stronger than this” I state, feeling her grip on my arm loosen a little.

She frowns, and I can see how much she’s struggling. Her head falls on my shoulder, her grip on my hair still strong and she takes a deep inhale. Very slowly, her dangerous mouth comes closer to my skin, her lips barely brushing it.

           I try to slow my heart, I try to stop the beating of my distraught blood I can feel in my own veins… And I really, with all my strength, try to fight this crazy thought of almost wanting to feel her bite.

 Reader’s Pov

             “Dean…” I whisper, not knowing what this word means exactly.

Is that a plea ? Is that a threat ? It comes out like a moan or a whine… I can’t hear it clearly behind the deafening chant of his heart.

“You’re strong Y/n, so strong” he grunts.

I let go of his arms, hoping deep down that he will use that voluntary mistake to take physical advantage, and get rid of me. But he doesn’t.

“I trust you…”

I let my nose brush his neck. And I let the waves of memories crush my guts. All those years praying to him like he could appear and take me away from here. I thought I was healed from that obsession, from that stupid hope… But now that he’s here, now that he appeared in the end, when I finally didn’t need him anymore, everything is coming back.

           And the vampire in me only wants him, only needs him.

           Despite the delicious smell of Sam’s blood I can almost taste on my tongue, despite Joe’s scratch on his hand bleeding slowly on the asphalt… Only Dean’s blood.

           I barely remember why this wouldn’t be a good thing, to let go for once, to taste it. I have suffered from hunger enough, why couldn’t I just enjoy life for once ?

I barely remember my hate, that hate that kept me from despair, that kept me company during those lonely night…

           So I open my mouth and put it on his neck, his carotid pulsating between my lips in an almost sexual way. My tongue hesitantly tasting his sweat.

“Y/n… Please” he whispers.

That’s when I realize. If I taste him, I will kill him. I won’t stop and I will suck life out of him. Then there will be no Dean Winchester. No hero to pray to when the pain becomes too much…

           My lips close in a shy kiss and he lets out a shaky breath.

           Then I fall, failing to hold back the sobs of pain and frustration. I just fall on his lap, letting go of his hair, hoping he will just end me, because I have no idea what to do now my vengeance is done.

I cry for the first time in years…

           But he just closes his arms around me, like it was angel wings, tight and big.

He closes his arms around me like I imagined often, falling asleep with my books close to my heart.

He finally closes his arms around me, holding me together better than my corset or my hate…

“Just one breath after the other sweetheart” he says. “You got them. You did it.”

 Dean’s Pov

             The sounds of her agony is making me nauseous. At least we know the cure is working, because she puked like a freaking gallon of God knows what.

“Let me see her” I try again, but Sam puts his arm in front of me.

“Dean, I think she needs her friend right now, not us” he says.

Joe. I wasn’t Joe she ran too, it wasn’t Joe’s name she whispered when she was fighting this… I grunt, hearing one more of her whine escaping because of cramps.

“We should at least put her on her bed ! Not let her on the floor of this fucking c-cold bathroom !” I groan.

Sam takes a deep breath, the one he takes when he is about to say something he thought a lot about.

“What !” I almost shout, annoyed.

“You shouldn’t get too attached, Dean” he sighs and my eyes widen, I could punch his scorn out of his face right now. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and…” he pushes his stupid hair back. “Listen. The case is over, she’s safe. We go home and… She made it very clear that she doesn’t need us.”

“So because we will never see her again, it is okay to let her do this on the fl…”

But the door opening cuts me.

           Joe comes out carrying all the pain of the world on his foolish face.

“She asked how your shoulder was” he says to me but doesn’t give me time to answer. “The cure is working, she passed out. Her body temperature is back to normal, no pointy teeth.”

“Good” Sam nods, giving Joe the bloody bag with that Holloway’s head.

“I’ll take care of her from now” the bartender states, making my heart miss a beat. “I’ll kill Jimmy and cook for her. She needs rest. You guys can go.”

My eyes darken, and my breathing slows. He wants us gone, he wants her for himself, pathetic stupid Prince charming.

“I think we should wait until…” I start but Sam cuts me.

“We hit the road, Dean” he states without looking at me. “Here, give her our numbers” he adds and my eyes go from the paper Sam is giving Joe to the bathroom door.

           Maybe it’s better that way. She doesn’t need us, she probably wants her intimacy back, not three big hunters in the shelter she built herself.

“If she needs anything…” I murmur, going to take my bag next to her notebooks. “Tell her to call.”

           Joe will never give her our number, and he will probably tell her we just left. So while Sam and he talk about the effect of the cure, I take a pen and open the Winchesters notebook. She doesn’t need me, but if she ever does…

               785-555-0128

               I’m one call away.

               D.W

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[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Happy Birthday Sam

Title: Happy Birthday Sam

Square Filled: CEO AU

Ship: Sam Wesson/Dean Smith

Tags: CEO AU, Smith/Wesson AU, CEO!Sam, HR!Dean, Sick!Dean, Based on It’s A Terrible Life with a few changes. 

Summary: It’s CEO of Sandover Publishing, Sam Wesson’s birthday. Dean’s home sick and Sam got a few fires to put out at work, but they still manage to spend some time together. 

Word Count: 2115

Created for: @spnaubingo

AN: I went over this thing about five times so any mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Sam

“Happy birthday Mr. Wesson.” 

Sam jumped startled as Becky appeared in front of him with a card. “I took the liberty of having everyone in the office sign a birthday card for you.” 

“Thanks, Becky…” Sam awkwardly took the card from her. 

“Hard to believe you’re turning thirty-six today, you hardly look a day over twenty-eight,” she added. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “...How do you know I’m turning thirty-six?” 

She blushed and tapped her headset. “Sandover Publishing House. How may I direct your call?” She gave Sam an apologetic smile before she hurried off back to the receptionist’s desk. 

He shook his head and walked down the hall to his office. He flipped on the lights as he stepped inside and went over to his desk with the intention of turning on his computer and paused when he saw the flowers on his desk. It was a mixed bouquet and lavender and orange roses tied together with a bow in a clear vase. 

Sam picked up the small card attached to the vase and read the small note. Happy Birthday was written on the card in neat calligraphy. He tucked the card back in amongst the flowers and looked up at the knock on his door. 

“Morning Rowena,” he smiled at the older woman. “No Dean this morning?” 

“Poor dear’s at home sick as a dog,” she answered. “He wanted to make sure you took a look at the candidates for the assistant head of IT position. Though we both agree Miss Bradbury is the best choice for the job.” 

“Well at least he took his sick days this time instead of trying to work through it like before,” Sam told her. 

He flipped through the files Rowena had given him and then handed them back. There was a green tab sticky on the second file, usually Dean’s indication who would be the best fit. Red was ‘No way in hell’ and yellow meant ‘with a little work they’d be good’. 

“If Dean says she’d be a good fit, then give her a call and schedule a drug test and background check,” Sam told her. “I trust his judgment. He hired me after all.” 

“Wonderful, we’ve already got her scheduled for next Monday,” Rowena told him. “Oh, and before I forget. I left you a little something in your second drawer. Happy birthday Sam.” 

He started to protest but she was already gone. He sighed and opened the second drawer of his desk and saw a gold gift bag. He peeked inside and saw an assortment of various candles. He made a mental note to send her a thank you card. 

Sam reached for his phone as it started ringing and leaned back in his chair 

“Wesson speaking,” he answered. 

“I can’t do it.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Can’t do what Chuck?”

"I can't do it. Speak in front of all those people, what am I supposed to say?" The man asked. "What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like the new book?” 

"You'll be fine Chuck," Sam told him. "It's a simple interview. Answer a couple of questions, announce the publication date for the new book. Take some pictures with a few fans, you'll be home by 9 pm to chat with Mistress Magda." 

"Okay," the man took a deep breath. "Okay. Thanks, Sam...and Happy Birthday. I uh, I forgot to get you a gift." 

"Don't worry about it," Sam answered. 

He hung up and turned his attention to be his email to get started on work. He was tempted to shoot Dean and email and see how the other man was doing. Even if he was home sick, Dean was a workaholic at heart. 

He grabbed his phone as it started ringing again. 

“You’ll be fine Chuck, ” Sam said by way of greeting. 

“...It’s Cas..” Castiel replied. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam apologized. “Chuck called about his interview, but that’s not important. What’s up?” 

“There was an issue with the printers,” Castiel answered. “The book covers, they’re uh…” he trailed off awkwardly. 

“I’m on my way,” Sam told him. 

He hung up and made his way down to the receiving bay. Castiel was at one of the tables with one of the large boxes of books open, a few stacked next to him, and packing peanuts on the floor. 

“What’s the problem Cas?” Sam asked 

Castiel wordlessly handed Sam one of the books and Sam snorted as he looked at the cover 

“...At least it’s tasteful?” Sam added. 

“We can not put these on the shelves, no matter how...tasteful,” Castiel replied. “Adler would have a fit. He’s still upset about that petition that went around a few months ago when we announced the reprinting of books 1-5.” 

“Adler can suck on a lemon,” Sam said bluntly. “How many were printed?” 

“Just a couple hundred for Chuck’s book signing on Saturday,” Castiel answered. “I tried to call the printers, but there was no answer.” 

“Of course there wasn’t,” Sam sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Just...put these in my office for now. I’ll go over to the printers and see if I can’t give Lucifer a kick in the ass.” 

Castiel nodded and started to put the books back in the box. “Oh, and happy birthday Sam. Did the flowers survive the night okay?” 

“The roses? They weren’t delivered this morning?” Sam asked. 

“Last night,” Castiel answered. “I saw them outside your door, so I put them in your office before I went home last night. Someone must like you.” 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 

“Well, lavender roses usually mean that someone has a crush on you. And Orange means that they’re proud of you. So whoever got them for you must like you and the man that you are. Or they just liked the color combination,” Castiel answered. 

“Thanks...I think,” Sam nodded and went back to his office to grab his keys.

He drove to the printers and followed the sound of loud rock music to the offices on the second floor. He turned off the stereo and dropped one of the books on Lucifer’s desk. 

“Real mature Lucifer. What’d you do? Find some fan art online and switch out the real picture we sent over?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Like it’s that different from the actual cover photo,” Lucifer smirked. 

“You know this is illegal right? What if these had made their way to the bookstore instead? Sandover could’ve been sued by the original artist,” Sam told him. 

“Cas would’ve caught it, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’ve already got Crowley printing out the books with the right covers. You’ll have them tomorrow afternoon you fuddy-duddy.” 

“You are a monumental pain in my ass you know that?” Sam said. 

“Who? Me?” Lucifer smiled innocently. “By the way, this is for you.”

He set a wrapped bottle on the table and Sam picked it up cautiously. “What is it?” 

“Just open it would you,” Lucifer told him. 

Sam tore off the paper and raised an eyebrow at the bottle of tequila. “If you find your new age hard to swallow just add some tequila.” He read off the note that was taped onto the bottle. 

“Consider it a birthday gift from me and Crowley,” Lucifer added. 

"Thanks," Sam smiled a bit. "...and it was a little funny. But please refrain from trying to get my place of work sued." 

"Yeah yeah yeah," Lucifer waved his hand dismissively. 

Sam turned the stereo back on, on his way out, and drove back to work. 

"Happy birthday Sammy." Gabriel thrust a small wrapped package into his hand. "Don't open it till you're alone okay." He winked and walked off. 

Sam shook his head as he walked back to his office and set the tequila and Gabriel's present on the coffee table. He turned his computer back on and pulled up the website from the café that was down the street to order his lunch. 

He looked up at the knock on his office door and saw one of the delivery people from the café. 

"Turkey BLT and medium Caeser salad with a strawberry banana smoothie?" The guy asked as he read off the receipt. 

"Uh...yeah…" Sam stood up and went to meet him. "But I didn't, I haven't even ordered yet." 

"Looks like someone bought you lunch," the younger man said. 

Sam took the food and tipped the guy before he went back to his desk. He looked at the roses, and at his lunch. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or weirded out. He was too hungry to care and he dug into his lunch. He picked up Gabriel's gift and unwrapped it. 

From the man that brought you Casa Erotica, the novelization comes a new series set in the steamy world of office romances. Featuring Dan Hanson and Sean Blythe. 

Sam grabbed his phone and called Gabriel. 

"Did you write an erotic novel about me and Dean?" Sam asked when the line picked up. 

"Don't flatter yourself, Sam. Sure Dan's got your build and maybe Sean's got Dean's boyish charm, but that is where all similarities end," Gabriel told him. 

"You realize if Dean sees this he is going to massacre you," Sam replied. 

"Guess it’s a good thing Deano’s home sick today,” Gabriel mused before he hung up. 

Sam hid the manuscript in the bottom drawer of his file cabinet and locked it for extra measure. He’d get rid of it later...after he read it. He pulled up the highlights from the previous night’s football game and used it as background noise as he ate his lunch and finished going through his emails. 

He was getting ready to throw the trash away when he saw a message typed out in the notes section of the receipt for his lunch. 

Enjoy the rabbit food Rapunzel. Don’t work to hard, it is your birthday after all.  

He smiled and knew exactly who’d gotten him the flowers and his lunch. 

                                  --------------------------------------------

Sam hoped it wasn’t too late as he rode the elevator to the third floor. He had a bag of takeout in one hand and a few movies in the other. He stepped off the elevator once it reached the third floor. He shifted the movies to his other hand as he knocked on the apartment marked 3F and smiled when Dean answered the door.��

He was wearing an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a pair of sweats and a large thick comforter wrapped around him. 

“Sam?” He asked hoarsely. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to say thank you for the flowers, and for lunch,” Sam answered. 

He couldn’t tell if Dean blushed or if his face was red because it was sick. 

“Although you didn’t have to do that,” Sam added. 

Dean shrugged a little. “I wanted to do something nice for your first birthday together...I would’ve baked you a cake but vertigo’s a bitch.” He broke off with a cough. “I’m glad you liked the flowers though. I almost went with red but it seemed a bit to cliché, and I didn’t want you to think Becky got them for you.”

“Shockingly Becky was pretty tame today,” Sam told him. “I went by that deli you like and picked up some of their chicken noodle soup. I also rented us a few movies, I would’ve liked to use the gift certificate Adler gave me for a way too overpriced steak, but we can go when you’re feeling better.” 

“Sam...you really don’t want to spend your birthday night with a sick person,” Dean started to protest. 

“Well, considering it’s my birthday, you don’t really get a say of who I get to spend it with now do you?” Sam asked. “Now get your ass back on the couch.” 

“Don’t make me laugh, my throat feels like sandpaper,” Dean told him. 

Sam walked into the apartment and shut the door behind him while Dean tried to clean up around the couch. Sam got one of the movies set up and grabbed a bowl for the soup, and joined him on the couch. 

“Happy birthday Sam,” Dean told him. “I promise next year will be a lot better.” 

“You know? All things considered, this one turned out to be pretty good,” Sam replied as he got comfortable. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know why Gabriel asked me to pick between Sean and Sheene would you?” Dean asked as he ate his soup.

“Nope, no idea,” Sam answered. 

“Such a weird little man,” Dean mused as Sam wrapped an arm around him. 

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Devil You Know: Final Part

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,511

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“What happened?” Dean growls.

“Nothing.”

“My ass,” he says and stalks to the main room where Brady is.

“Dean, I’m fine,” Sam sighs.

“Yeah? And what about Brady?”

You’re in the corner, but even from where you stand, you can tell that Brady is alive.

“Like you said… we need him.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, but you quickly wipe it away, and push down all your feelings to the back of your mind. You need to have a clear head if you’re going to make this work. You push away from the wall and head inside the room where everyone is. Crowley appears out of nowhere, and you wonder where he was. He has spots of blood on his face, and his jacket is ripped.

“God, the day I've had. Good news. You're going to live forever,” he says to the other demon.

“What did you do?”

“I went over to a demons' nest and had a little massacre. I must be losing my touch, though because I let one of the little toads live. Oops. I also might have given said toad the impression that you left your post last night because you and I are—wait for it—lovers in league against Satan,” he chuckles, and Brady sighs deeply.

“Hello, darling. So, now Death is off the table. Now you get to be on the boss's eternal-torment list with little old me,” Crowley finishes.

“Oh, no, no, no, no. No,” Brady begins to panic.

“There is something else we have in common—apart from our torrid passion, of course—craven self-preservation. So, now, why don't you tell me where Pestilence is at?”

Brady goes to answer, but a dog howling can be heard off in the distance. It’s weird to hear a dog way deep in the woods, so you think it’s a wild animal or something. You think that until you see Brady’s face.

“Oh, God, Crowley,” he panics.

“Wait, is that a hellhound?” you ask, putting the pieces together.

“I'd say yeah.”

“Why was that a hellhound?” you press further.

Crowley searches his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for. He sighs and pulls out an old coin.

“What is that?” Sam asks.

“Remember I was telling you about my crafty little tracking device?”

“Yeah.”

“Demons planted one on me.”

“You're saying a hellhound followed you here?” you ask angrily.

“Well, technically, he followed this,” Crowley says and holds up the coin.

“Get me out of here. I'll tell you anything you want!” Brady pleads.

“Shut up,” Sam growls.

“Okay, well, then we should go,” Dean determines.

“Sorry, boys. No one knows more about the hounds than I. You're long past the point of ‘go’,” he shrugs and tosses Dean the coin. He catches it just as the demon vanishes.

“Damn it,” Dean sighs.

“I told you!” Sam yells.

“Oh, well, good for you,” his brother mocks him. “Luckily, we have salt in the kitchen.”

“I’ll watch Brady,” Sam suggests.

“I’ll stay with you.”

“Watch me? Get me the hell out of here!” Brady yells.

Dean leaves the room to get the salt, and you hug yourself tightly at the battle you know is coming. Brady struggles against his ropes, but you do nothing to free him. Dean should have been back by now, and you give into the fight inside of yourself. You leave your spot to help Dean when you hear a shotgun go off.

“Sammy!” Dean yells and runs into the room.

“Where’s the salt? You had one fucking job!”

“Does it look like I can get to the fucking salt?” he yells.

“Damn it, get me out of here!” Brady shouts.

“Shut the fuck up!” you scream at him.

“Great. Just great,” he sighs.

“Hey!” Crowley says from the other room with a new suit on.

“You’re back?” Dean asks.

“I'm invested. Currently,” he smiles. The hellhound barks and growls. “Stay!”

“You can control them?”

“Not that one,” he points behind Dean. “I brought my own.” Crowley pats the invisible hellhound beside him, and from where his hand is, that’s a big fucking dog. “Mine’s bigger. Sic him, boy!”

The hellhound by his side jumps at the other hellhound, and both dogs begin to fight viciously. You’re trying to stay out of the way and go over to Brady to let him go. There is no use staying here when these dogs will tear the place apart. Once he’s free, you pass him over to Sam so they can escape.

“Go, go, go, go!” Dean orders.

There is no argument coming from you, and you escape the house without problem. All five of you head straight to the car without stopping.

“I'll wager $1,000 my pup wins,” Crowley laughs.

Since you don’t want to be stuck between two demons, you get in the front where you’ll be stuck between two Winchesters. The car is packed, and Dean wastes no time leaving the area in a screech. Your head lolls to the side once you find it in yourself to relax. Sam lets you use his shoulder, but that’s not the weird part.

What’s weird is how normal it is to use Sam as a support system when Dean’s been that for you for a long time. What is happening to you two?

Crowley deemed it safe enough to stop in an empty alley to complete this transaction. Brady has no choice but to give up pestilence’s location. He hands Crowley a piece of paper with the location on it.

“I'm sure pestilence will be there.”

“What do you think?” Dean asks as Crowley gets a look at it.

“It's good,” he hands it over and turns to Brady. “You got no reason to lie, have you? Like I said before, you're in my boat now.”

“You've screwed me for eternity.”

“Nah. Won't last that long. Trust me,” he scoffs.

Dean takes the salt canister he had in the car and begins to pour a line from one end of the alley to the other.

“Where are you going?” Brady asks.

“I'm going to do you a favor,” he says to the demon before turning to Sam who can’t stop staring at Brady. “I expect we'll be in touch.”

Dean lets Crowley past the salt line before closing it behind him so that Brady is now trapped inside the area with you and the Winchesters.

“What is this?” Brady demands to know.

“All those angels, all those demons, and all those sons of bitches just don't get it, do they, Sammy?” Dean asks.

“No, they don’t, Dean.”

“We’re the ones you should be afraid of, Brady,” you speak up.

Sam walks toward Brady with Ruby’s knife in his hand. He has only one goal in mind, and you and Dean are just there to offer help if needed.

“I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy. Gonna make you feel all better?”

“It’s a start.”

With Brady out of the way, and pestilence’s location on demand, there is nothing left to do but sleep. Sam didn’t want to hear any kind of bickering that might happen between you and Dean, so he went to get a separate room for the night. It’s taking everything inside of you not to just hit Dean and scream at him.

He’s been acting like this all day, and you’ve had enough of it. He moves to the door to leave, but you stop him with your words.

“You’re not leaving here Dean until we talk about this!”

“Watch me.”

He continues towards the door, and you muster up enough courage to use your magic to stop him. Your right-hand flies in front of you, and the motel door closes and locks. Blue magic swirls around the doorknob so that Dean knows not to mess with you.

“You’re not leaving,” you repeat.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?” he yells and turns around to face you. “You killed the child I never knew about, you took away my decision, you only thought about yourself, and you lied to me about it!”

“If you would only listen to me then--”

“I don’t want to hear some sob story about Amara, and about how you don’t want to raise a child in this life.”

“So, my feelings are nothing and yours are more valuable? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t trust you anymore. And it’s going to take a lot more than a conversation for you to earn it back, but the way I see it, you never will.”

His words hit you deep, but it’s nothing compared to what’s coming.

“You’re lucky I’m not treating you like the other witches. But with the way things are going, maybe I should start.”

With that, he leaves the room. Never has he ever said something so impactful to you than what he said right now. You really messed up big time, and you can’t ever take it back no matter how hard you try to explain it away.

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[seenashwrite]

Notes From Nash: Season 15 Episode 1

So here's the thing.

It wasn't bad.

It wasn't great.

Both those things are fine, of course shouldn’t want it to be bad, and matter of fact I didn't need nor want it to be great, better to save great for the finale.

But thing is, it was meh.

The premiere episode of your final season should be tight, tight, tight - no extraneous information or scenes, get in and get out, convey the most crucial of information, lay a foundation upon which to build.

And, well.... 

Meh. 

[Of course, spoilers below cut]

Before we go on - If you're new, hi, I'm Nash. I don't so much recap these things (though I have been known to on occasion, time permitting) as break 'em down regarding the writing. I don't go in any particular order, sometimes it's in order of the ep, sometimes it's topically organized. Bail now if you're interested in meta and reading into shit or whatever. This is constructive critique, where I call it like I see it, both the nailed it-s and the whiffed it-s.

To begin with, let's get this out of the way - because it's relevant to what I'm about to say - that whomever is responsible for approving the release of the Jake Abel-as-Michael shots and the Sam-might-be-Samifer shots and the Dean-Mark-of-Cain shots and hey-is-that-Gabriel's-horn shots is a goddamned dimwit. They just blew some of their wad, right there. That should've been saved for gut-punches in episodes, not in previews and behind-the-scenes and all that other marketing jazz.

That foundation I mentioned before - I get what the season is going to be because, even if I hadn't picked up on it before-----

I had.

-----then I certainly did thanks to Sam's exposition anvil there at the end. *insert eye-roll*  And speaking of the end, that flashback to the shutting of the trunk was so hamfisted, it just... it just wasn't necessary. I've said this before: leave little treats for your longtime fans. That could’ve been one, that echo back to the beginning, but they whiffed it with that insert of the clip. And that's what the entirety of this season should be, frankly. There should be *zero* explaining, *minimal* flashing back, because if somebody's coming into this on year fifteen, then welcome to the fam and all, and also I am so sorry, you need to binge the fuck out of everything and then join in, we ain't got time for that. Neither should the writers. Them's the breaks. They don’t need to accrue new fans for higher/sustained ratings, it’s the end of the goddamn show, so quit spoon-feeding explanations, and with that nice little moment getting skewered, I groan at the thought of all the flashing back and explaining that could potentially lie ahead. 

So, foundation: is the foundation we're building upon this little town? Since that’s where we spent 98% of our precious season premiere time? This town where the ghosts who were interchangeably referred to as souls from hell are all clustered instead of flying away to wherever the fuck they want? Also, don't monster “souls” go to Purgatory? That specific clown was a creature, a rakshasa, not a ghost. If this is the ghost of that monster, did Purgatory bust open, too? If not, why? Why weren't souls also expelled from Heaven? From the Empty? From the Veil? The logical answer is, of course, because Sam and Dean would be no match for all of those, and we have to get them to the end of the season. But those are some nice places to start for laying a foundation: the rules of the game. At least some of the rules, so that they aren’t all dropped in one fell swoop with an exposition anvil from someone later down the road.

****

---> ETA: Several people have brought up to me that the clown is Gacy, not the Rakshasa who appeared as a clown in Season 2 Episode 2 "Everybody Loves A Clown". 

Two things here:

(1) Yes, I checked, and see what y'all mean - the clown we saw is indeed dolled up just like the Gacy ghost from end of S14. I think the writers whiffed this because... 

(2) ...the Rakshasa fits more with what they've shown in 15.1 (the Rak went after a child at her house in 2.2), and it also fits the theme of ghosts from the way-back-when, re: Bloody Mary and Woman In White, so since they've got such a hard-on for this Sam-and-clowns thing and apparently want to drive it into the ground, they should've chosen the Rak  

Also worth noting, the writers never should have made it Gacy in the first place, the most cursory google of Gacy would've told them that the clown thing has been blown way out of proportion and has essentially nothing to do with his murdering (i.e. - it wasn’t his killin’ costume/part of his killing m.o./routine). I won't go into detail here, you can go on that journey yourselves, but his jam was not going after a cabin full of teens, nor children’s birthday parties, nor was it just willy-nilly murdering whomever he laid eyes on. 

It was stupid call by the writers, and they should feel stupid.

****

[pause]

The reason I mention all of these places: these aren’t just the monsters that Dean and Sam have killed. This is what it *should* have been. But I feel - at this point, having no other info - that this is a major whiff on the writers’ parts, having all the souls in hell come to the surface. Because that’s what new demon friend said - that all the doors opened, that hell was chaos. So it’s not just the ones that Sam and Dean killed, at least that’s what I’m divining from that statement. 

[unpause]

I give no fucks about this little town. Try this: Have them going back to the bunker to re-group and seeing things along the way, such as that car on the side of the road like they did. Perhaps they hear about a massacre at a slumber party from Jody. Perhaps Sam is checking the internet while Cas is frowning and looking at his wound, and is like "A mother and child escaped from a birthday party where a bunch of people were killed and they swear it's a clown. Dean - these are all our old cases."

[pause]

Stop with Sam and clowns. We got it. 

NO REALLY WE GOT IT

Or if gonna do it, be creative about it. 

---> shameless plug <---

[unpause]

Then speaking of Cas and the bullet wound - another bit of bad writing, here. Subtlety, writers. Look it up. Here's how it should've gone:

. Cas: [frowning as hand hovers over Sam's shoulder]

Sam: What?

Cas: [narrows eyes; hesitates] Something... I'm not certain. [meets Sam's eye] I don't think I'm able to heal it completely. Are you in much pain?

Sam: [seeming a bit surprised at his own answer] No, actually. It's not-----

[Sam cuts himself off as Cas' hand makes contact with his shoulder; sees blurry, muddled flashes of suggestive visions; gasps and stumbles back] .

See? We arrived at the same place, but elegantly. Less "YOU'RE TOTALLY GONNA BE LIKE A SAMIFER SOMETHING-SOMETHING YOUR VISIONS ARE BACK BLEEEECCCCHHH VOMITS CHUNKY FORESHADOWING"

The point is, the fuck with this town? We're back there next week, too? WHO CARES. And I bet you money, with how much time they wasted in this ep and the time I betcha they're gonna waste next ep, that I----

Er, um. I mean that "they". Ahem. The writers.

----could've combined whatever is going to be accomplished next ep into this one for an actually meaty season premiere. Which this was not. This was not a hearty, filling steak. This was yesterday's meatloaf that's still pretty tasty but soggy.

It's the little things. You scrap every single extraneous bit. Seconds are precious because when you add up enough clumps of them, they can equal minutes. Here's a tiny example: Sam laying on the floor of the crypt and being like "I hear water" then it's like "you hear water?" then "yeah maybe it's a drainage line" then "or a sewer" then "let's break this open", then the breaking, then here comes corpsey friend.

Instead: They're talking and there's increasingly aggressive banging on the door, they all scootch a little closer to the opposite wall, then corpsey busts through. We don't need all that blah-blah. And as much as I love new demon friend, I genuinely do, there was too much blah-blah-banter with him, as well. Huge props on the Alastair callback, *that* is the shit I was talking about earlier, callbacks with no other explanation, just the look on Dean's face when he said it was plenty. Well played, there. 

Otherwise, let's goooooooooo. The pacing was all off, there was *way* too much time wasted, especially with all the Sam and Cas going through the town stuff. Easily two-to-three minutes could've been shaved off of that alone.

Because here we are: what was accomplished that was of import? Jack's body is possessed (and that demon is great, best part of the ep), and he confirmed the cage is open. This is interesting info to have. We got a glimpse of the return of Sam's visions, which hints at a return to how the guys were in the past, so might make us think they - along with the world - are in rewind mode, as well. Also interesting to ponder upon.

[pause]

Which, this then begs: why is Cas not being reset, too? Why are his powers still wonky? Wouldn't THAT have been a real kick in the pants, seeing Cas whup some ass, even if just moderately here at the first and everybody having a "WHOA" moment of looks at each other? And then if so, continuing with the earlier questions that at least should have been asked - I don’t expect answers in ep one but lay the foundation via asks - are all the angels back, as well? Is Billie still officially Death? Because Dean killed Death, did he not? So is O.G. Death back?

[unpause]

And... that's it. That’s what we learned. We knew at the end of last season that Chuck was resetting things. This wasn't new information. We were given the scenes of Bloody Mary and the woman in white and the clown at the end of 14's finale. So this information doesn't count. And like I said above, the guys catching on to this could've been handled in a more expedited fashion so that we can get on with it. The writers have very little time to wrap up the show, and thus far I’m not encouraged by what I’ve seen.

::sigh::

We got work to do, indeed.

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 38

LISTEN TO ME — 0038

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.7K

Jinah felt as if she were walking beside a heavy storm cloud that would start shooting lightning everywhere at any moment. It was a surprise to see that Jade was willing — as far as possible — to go to class that Monday, given that she could barely sleep the night before and everything around her made her want to cry repeatedly, but, Jinah was starting to believe the idea had not been so good. Perhaps it would have been better if the american had stayed at home, the motives were explicit on her face.

— "Jade" — after looking at her out of the corner of her eye more than four times and holding on to herself not to keep a safe distance, Jinah finally spoke, using as much caution as she could muster. — "Is everything alright?"

Obviously it was not all right, but Choi never thought that crossing the campus next to one of her best friends would become so tense. Jade was no longer crying, though the makeup covering her face — including all the freckles, which, unfortunately, she made a point of hiding — made it clear that her intention was to hide her dark circles and her haggard expression. Her jaw was clenched, and Jinah, in all the years she had known Kang, could tell with conviction that she had never seen her carry such a sharp look. Truth be told, Jieun looked ready to do a massacre. It was a little scary.

Jinah had her question completely ignored. The same had happened to Chan, a little while earlier, still in the kitchen of their shared apartment. With Felix too, when they met at the college entrance and he came to know how she was doing. All of this generated some pressure, as if she were a time bomb. It got worse as Jade walked straight past her office building and headed toward the life sciences building.

— "Where are you going?" — asked Jinah, again in vain. She would have an appraisal exercise in seven minutes, but she felt that, if she let the american do what she was going to do on her own, it would definitely go wrong. — "At least wait for me!"

Jade entered the corridors like a hurricane. Little did she know which way she was going, her eyes just darting over the little plates above the doors, and when she finally read 'Biomedicine — Ninth Period', she didn't think twice before entering the room. Luckily, there weren't many people waiting for the professor yet, but the one she wanted to find was standing right in front of her. Kang left no warning before gathering all the strength she had in her body, clenching her fist and punching Josh's face, who fell to the ground with shock.

— "Jade!" — scolded Jinah, pulling her friend by the arm. — "It could cause you to be expelled from college, you idiot!"

— "I warned you that you weren't supposed to come into my life with Changbin, didn't I?" — Jieun practically spat in Josh's face. A trickle of blood ran down the boy's nose, who couldn't take his eyes off of the floor. — "I thought I could trust you!"

— "Calm down" — Hyunjin got up from his desk and joined Jinah in trying to continue the mission of controlling the american girl's nerves. — "Jinah's right, this is no time or place to work it out."

— "I could take the case to the dean right now and get you in a lot of trouble," — muttered Josh, blankly, still not looking up or even making to get up.

— "Well, do it!" — answered Jade. — "So I'm free to break the rest of this cynical face of yours!"

The way Josh was acting was totally and completely contradictory. He barely had the courage to look Kang in the eye, such was his shame and regret, yet he still acted like an idiot because it seemed a thousand times easier than stepping on his own pride, apologizing, and accepting that this fight was no longer his, that Changbin had won that time. Josh loved Jade, but Jade loved Changbin. And now she hated Josh. It hurt.

— "You talk like it's just my fault..." — and it really was, but maybe he deserved the punch and a little more. Damn the dean and all the bureaucracy. — "Since you even closed your eyes..."

Like fire finding gasoline, Jade went up on Josh again, needing Jinah and Hyunjin to stop her from reaching Lee. Angry and frustrated, she tired of debating uselessly and shoved her two friends, then left the room with the same speed she had entered. Jinah sighed and exchanged a discouraged look with Hyunjin, who, nonetheless, reached out and helped Josh to his feet, but made no point of saying anything to the latter.

And it was still only Monday.

                                                           ♡˖°

Minhwan lit another cigarette.

The perfectly glazed car was smelling of smoke, but he didn't give a shit. Standing under the shade of a tree, a few yards from the college's main gates, he had more important things to think and worry about.

The distance he was in did not allow him to see exactly, but, after so many days of doing the same routine, he had become accustomed to the condition of seeing her only from afar. And it was almost unbelievable to think that time could only make Jinah more and more beautiful.

Minhwan felt hate, but also felt love. Sounds crazy, but you can't blame him, after all, that's what he is. A crazy, insane, unbalanced, delirious, wild and every other synonym found in the dictionary. However, like everything else in this life, he had reason to be so, since living on crumbs while spending most of the day following someone from afar as a hallucinated was not a choice any sane person would choose to make.

It used to be like a light at the end of the tunnel. Darkness was everywhere, but there was a speck that he pinned his hopes on and clung tightly when everything else pressed down on him. Minhwan was only sixteen when he met Jinah — his little flame in the middle of a freezing night —, and, from then on, the weight on his shoulders became much more bearable. He hadn't had a chance to find out what many people's hearts had to offer, but, of the few that had ever done him any good in his life, Choi was certainly, the most valuable. There is not always someone who is willing to sew a heart full of cuts.

Minhwan had been raised by his maternal grandmother since his mother died at his father's dirty hands and was sent to prison. He had no siblongs, thank God, so he wouldn’t have to witness another innocent child suffer all that he had suffered as a child. The marks were everywhere, both on his body and his soul. At the time, Minhwan didn't have many friends to talk to, but he was pretty sure the parents of the other street kids didn't do what his did when they were alone at home. And even as an adult, he still couldn't find enough words to describe exactly how he felt, just carried the unwanted whimpers in his nightmares and a screaming horror in his heart. When his grandmother also died, it was as if the old bricks supported by only a crumbling pillar collapsed and threw their heavy debris on his back — the world came to the ground. And then, Jinah appeared.

Minhwan didn't believe there was a more amazing person on Earth. Even with all his faults, Choi had accepted him and made herself available to cure him of all his suffering. Her smiles functioned more like infinite anti-inflammatories that sent the pain far away and spread tranquility through every cell of his body. Minhwan loved her so much he felt his chest sting, and strongly believed she would be by his side forever. But then came insecurity and fear.

After so many early losses, he had taken some trauma from too strong relationships. Jinah had a lot of friends and much more uncomplicated and interesting people to talk to; so, anyone who approached and took one of her kind smiles was already viewed as an opponent by Minhwan. The boy never wanted to lose her, only that possibility made the scars in his heart ache as if they might reopen. And Jinah always knew so much cooler guys! Guys who knew how to be romantics, who were prettier, who had more money, who could offer her so much more than an obsessive love! Although Choi had never cared about these things or disrespected him at some point in their relationship, it was impossible for Minhwan not to let jealousy gradually overwhelm his conscience, causing him to make threats, be aggressive and extremely controlling, act impulsively and hurt one of the only people who really cared about him, all for fear of losing.

But it was no use, because he lost anyway. Now, he couldn't even get close to Jinah thanks to the subpoena he received when Choi informed the police that she was uncomfortable with his presence. Not that he cared about laws or court orders, but, on second thought, it was even better, since Minhwan didn't want to do anything ahead of time and wasn't sure what would be his reaction to being face to face with the boy who lately only knew how to draw passionate glances from his girl.

Han Jisung. Minhwan hated him. He was pretty sure Han didn't deserve all the love Jinah gave him, just as he didn't love Choi enough — in Minhwan’s tormented head, no one would love Jinah more than himself. It was simply unbearable to see them kissing or walking hand in hand on the street, it looked like a misplaced piece in a complicated puzzle. Minhwan wanted Jisung to disappear once and for all... He wanted to disappear too. Or rather, wanted to find peace... But he couldn't do it without Jinah.

Although now she looked genuinely happy, as when Minhwan promised.

Yeah... Maybe Jinah should disappear too.

Everything's gonna be okay.

a/n: things are going downhill lol

I decided to talk a little bit about how Minhwan feels not to be like in those stories that the couple is having a wonderful time and out of nowhere a crazy idiot appears to end it and that's it. I didn't put it in all the words, but I imagine you guys understood that he was abused by his father when he was little and this generates an absurd trauma to any child, especially if not treated with a specialist doctor, so this is one of the reasons why he's kind of crazy like that.

Josh is not just another sucker either, he just has a hard time dealing with his feelings and that makes him stupid most of the time, but I ask you guys to calm down. You guys don't even have to like him yet, I just want to say that, like Chaerin from the beginning of the au, his attitudes don't show everything he really is.

and speaking of Chaerin, let's add Seungmin and say that they are missing in 'Listen To Me', don't you guys think? I at least think that and already advance that the two little angels will soon be between us

can I ask you guys to tell me your expectations? if you guys are liking it or what you expect. I haven't asked this for a long time and I always like to know, so don't be afraid to tell me :)

I'm leaving now, Ily and see you guys in the next chapter <3

[acklest]

Jensen Ackles, AU!Michael!Dean, 14x10: Nihilism (and rambling about “range”)

Jensen was so fucking good, don’t even touch me right now, don’t even look at me. I mean, he’s always good, but with this episode, he kicked it in the ASS.

I don’t feel like I have enough WORDS for it. Behind a cut while I prattle on. (None of the gifs used as examples are mine.)

I watched the episode multiple times to see what Jensen was doing as Michael that so wasn’t Dean Winchester, because he was so fascinatingly NOT Dean. I know there are certain style choices that lend themselves to the differences, like his hair being parted on the other (wrong) side and the painstakingly dapper suits and the newsboy cap. Dean Smith (4x17: It’s a Terrible Life) had his hair parted on the wrong side, too. It’s some easy shorthand for “hey, something about this isn’t quite right.” (Like the French cuffs didn’t give it away.)

Demon!Dean was just Dean without the moral center. He was fun to watch, don’t get me wrong, for the brief time we got him. MoC!Dean was actually closer to what I thought Demon!Dean was going to be, so I enjoyed him more. Watching MoC!Dean massacre the Stynes was epic and so satisfying (and tragic I know because of the kid, I’m not like yay murder). As much as I love the real Sam and Dean, and I’m always happy when they get back to who they really are, these dark side digressions are so much fun because we get to see Jared and Jensen show off.

But there’s more to it than that. Jensen has said that his approach to each new script is instinctive (reads the script once or twice and decides what he’s going to do) and Jared is intellectual (reads it multiple times to feel like he’s really soaked it in). But here, I feel, Jensen has made some very deliberate choices. 

First, A Tangent: I watch different Dark Angel vids on Youtube and there’s usually a comment somewhere about how Alec and Dean are basically the same character, or Alec is Young!Dean. They don’t (always) come right out and say, “He can only convincingly play Dean-like characters”, but the implication is there. The two characters have some superficial traits in common, like sarcasm, physical comedy, Jensen’s face (can’t be helped). But even his face doesn’t really come into it once you hit the latter half of S1 because Jensen’s face changed a lot in the interim. His jaw got stronger, his face got broader. So I watched an episode of Dark Angel and immediately watched an episode of Supernatural (1x3: Dead in the Water). @deanscarlett​ helped me figure this out: Alec is out for out for himself, Dean was always out for anything but himself (except when it comes to pleasure-seeking, when he even allows it). Alec has his own psychological trauma (2x11: The Berrisford Agenda) which adds facets to his character’s mercenary pursuits, but once he locks down that perceived weakness (”I’m always alright”), you don’t really see him break down like that again. His programming is strong; he just buries it. But it serves a purpose: Max had written him off as a loss after she saved his life at the expense of not getting a cure to the virus (2x3: Proof of Purchase). It showed her that he wasn’t just a “happy-go-lucky sociopath”, that he had a story like everyone else, and that meant he deserved a shot at redemption. Alec was relatively unburdened (I mean... genetically enhanced master assassin... star torturer in HELL... Dean wins this round, I think) compared to Dean, who’s had ever-increasing weight on his shoulders since “Take your brother outside as fast as you can - don't look back. Now, Dean! GO!” Even young, Dean was never this carefree except maybe in his imagination or as a way to distance himself from others, or when he got really into the “I’m a badass I save people” part of it.

In this scene, Alec (if the character is Jensen’s age) is 23. He’s found a bunch of transgenics that fled from Manticore (the only home they’ve ever known) because of a fire. They’re all children, ranging in age from elementary school to early teens. He’s annoyed because they interrupted his sexy times in a motel. He’s very dismissive of them and spends most of those scenes throwing pieces of popcorn at one of the X7s, who are all small children. Creepy black-eyed hive-minded small children, but small children nonetheless. He makes smart remarks and rolls his eyes while Max tries to get through to the children to let them know that they should absolutely not go back to Manticore if they want to live. In just a few minutes, she takes apart their foundations: You don’t answer to me. You’re not a designation, you’re a person. You have a name now. You have to make your own choices.

“Why would Manticore try to get rid of us?” 

Alec answers:

Compare that to Dean as early as 1x3 Dead in the Water:

Dean doesn’t even talk the same way as Alec (except in the first few episode, while they were still getting used to their characters), and I don’t mean Jensen’s ever-more-gravelly voice, I mean the way he stubbornly pushes his jaw forward and talks out one side of his mouth or through his teeth. He has his mouth slightly open a lot. Sometimes he barely moves his mouth when he talks, speaking as if saying the words mostly to himself. Like 2x20 where Wishverse!Sam says “You slept with my prom date. On prom night.” Dean says, “Yeah that does kinda sound like me” while barely moving his mouth at all. Or in 4x01 where he holds up the empty liquor bottle and asks Bobby, “What, r’yer parents outta town or somethin?” That’s such a mushy line. He has a mush-mouth that’s only made mushier by hunter jargon and Dean’s... idiosyncratic way of speaking. If you weren’t in this fandom, would you know what I full-on Swayze’d that mother even meant? I always think of this (7x21):

(He can speak perfectly clearly when he wants to make a point, or when they’re pretending to be any kind of authority. I always think of the exchange in 5x14: My Bloody Valentine:

SAM: [mock sadness] That's when a dog doesn't eat-- That's when you know something's really wrong.

DEAN: [pokerface] Remarkably patronizing concern. Duly noted.

He can turn it off when he wants to. That Dean’s Master Adapter thing and it’s FUCKING HOT. Oh, I’m a production assistant now? Cool, aced it in a day. Oh, we’re in prison? This is fine, I’m gonna procure cigarettes. LARPing? Sign me the fuck up. Oh, we’re reporters? I can sound like a reporter. I’ve watched thousands of hours of television, I can mimic anyone. I can fake my way through almost anything. We’re in a different town two weeks from now, I can tell people whatever I want.

OH SHIT, DEAN TANGENT INSIDE OF A JENSEN RANGE TANGENT. Quick, make it look intentional!

Anyway, to me, Alec... Dean... not the same character. Going from one to the other was so jarring. For gifsets or edits where you want to show young Dean Winchester, it totally works for that. I mean, it’s Jensen’s face when he was that pre-Supernatural age... except that Jensen didn’t really look like Ridge Canipe or Dylan Everett when he was that age. (I love Dylan Everett. I don’t even care that his eyes are the wrong color.)

But something else Jensen does is put his own mark on roles that he’s given. Tom Hanniger wasn’t supposed to be as sympathetic as he turned out to be, and most people who watched it stated that they wanted someone else to be the bad guy (Axel was looking good for it) so that Tom would be okay. (Sorry if I just spoiled that for you.) Alec wasn’t supposed to be quite so likable, but that’s what Jensen brought to it. Even Kripke said early on that Dean was different on the page than when Jensen got ahold of him. He finds the heart of the character. Imagine if Dean Winchester had been the guy from the pilot this whole time, grossly leering at Jess to make Sam uncomfortable and defensive. 

Remember that Jess first says “Your brother Dean?” with a pleased smile on her face.

DEAN: [instantly leering] Oh, I love the Smurfs. [ogles cleavage] You know, I gotta tell you. [steps too close] You are completely out of my brother's league. [suggestive grin]

JESS: [smile fading, clearly uncomfortable] Just let me put something on.

[JESS turns to go. DEAN's voice stops her.]

DEAN: [isn’t discouraged by her discomfort] No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. [another leer] Seriously.

When I first watched that, I thought: “Pussyhound with control issues? That’s your brother’s girl, don’t be skeevy.”

But before long, you realize what it was: Contempt. He wasn’t interested in Jess. “I’m going to make you feel very unwelcome because who the hell invited YOU?” It’s very possessive.

Think about that first scene with Dean after “Easy, tiger!” and then Dean a mere 9 episodes later, in “Home”, trying to get through to John because he’s scared, his voice breaking, his eyes filling up. During that first scene, would you have predicted something like that? "My heart’s gonna break for this bossy bad boy creep.” In fact, by the third episode of the series, it has. Sam tries to make a note of it and gets shut down by Dean right away. "I’ll show you a little, but that’s all. Don’t test me.”

DEAN: You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Later:

DEAN: Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?

It’s not until 2x20: What is and What Should Never Be where you see how Dean feels about Jess now that he understands how important she was to Sam: He hug-tackles her from out of frame, and if she never died... There were more layers of Dean revealed in that episode than Alec got his entire season. (Don’t even get me started on that episode, I’ll just start crying and I’m already so off course with this post.) 

Jensen took this role and made it as iconic as it is. He protects it.

I’m not saying another actor couldn’t have also “sold” that role and made it their own. What I am saying is, I don’t think that another actor would be playing the everloving fuck out of that role -- with all its twists and turns, advances and setbacks -- 14 years later with seemingly as much passion (if not more) than when they started.

But Jensen didn’t leave Dean in that swaggering, cocky, Han Solo place. He deepened the character, added layers, he shows us the cracks and the flaws. The show would NOT have lasted 14 seasons without these two actors. God, I only watch it to see what’s happening to them and see the ways they found to challenge themselves in otherwise unremarkable episodes. It’s like a troubled relationship where you’re like “No, I’m not watching it again ever” and then it texts you at 3am with “wyd” and suddenly you’re playing an episode and wondering about your life. 

I went into that long-ass, rambling, what-even-are-you-talking-about tangent to set you up for this:

Nihilism was NOT an unremarkable episode.

This is not like any other role that Jensen has played before.

There’s really no trace of Dean Winchester in Michael except the resemblance (and the daddy issues, I suppose). And even that’s played down with the neat hair, the suit, the artful "I know my best angles” way that he presents himself to people. There’s not even a trace of other characters that Jensen has played. It’s an entirely new role for him.

Michael carries himself elegantly. The perfect posture, the poise, the careful, graceful motions. Dean kind of slouches, looms, or does a parade rest sort of thing where he’s braced for whatever might happen. He’s got a big ambling swagger. He puts his feet up on tables or sits with his legs sprawled apart.

Michael eerily doesn’t blink as much as you would expect. As Dean, Jensen blinks a lot and closes his eyes, sometimes for a few seconds in the middle of a line, as if he’s processing his thoughts. I love it. It doesn’t start happening until S4 or so, where he wants to show the general weariness of the character. It happens the most when he’s angry or exasperated. But Michael is laser-focused.

Michael speaks very precisely and almost ceremoniously, like he’s selecting each word for the maximum impact. He has ALL the time in the world. Dean talks like... well, Dean. This is the big one for me. He just doesn’t SOUND like Dean, even though it’s the same damn voice. It’s in the cadence. He also holds his chin upright so his voice projects differently, and his jaw isn’t clenched like Dean’s usually is. His voice comes across as smooth and oozes condescension. 

Michael, in keeping with his wardrobe and (understandable) superiority complex is very fussy. While Sam, Cas, and Jack are talking, he’s speculatively opening and closing his hands in the background as if trying the cuffs, but he doesn’t even bother to struggle. While he’s talking to Cas during the big monologue, he absently picks a speck of something out from under a fingernail and neatly refolds his hands on his knee. He puts himself in those 3-piece suits. He has expanded to take up all of the possible Dean-ness and he’s very proud of his vessel. The human that used to be in control could not possibly matter less. As far as he’s concerned, Dean was his the moment he was even born.

Michael’s expressions are very different. Dean has a very expressive face. In one 5-second gif, you can identify a number of little micro-expressions he goes through. His face is almost never still unless something has gone very wrong. His eyebrows are all over the place. He’s squinty from having scowled for so long. He absently curls his lip when he talks. Because Michael doesn’t have all the trauma and worries that Dean has, he keeps his expression smooth. He looks completely dignified. Because he feels he has absolutely nothing to fear, his expressions are supercilious and disdainful.

Michael is very, very serene. He’s a BEING, and currently immortal. The things the “pig-filthy humans” are doing don’t really seem to concern him. “He's a gnat,” he says about Dean. He’s waiting them out because to him, they’re the blink of an eye. People keep trying to get a rise out of him, I think because he wears Dean’s face and they’re desperate to see a glimpse of him. Michael just doesn’t give a shit. Holy fire? Whatever. These cute handcuffs? That’s adorable. 

Look at the image below. There is no Dean at all, there is barely even a flicker of concern. His smile here is almost like, “You are naive and tedious. I’m just waiting for my army to get here. Might as well relax.”

I’m sorry, I’m just very, very excited and I’m so proud of Jensen. He was already brilliant, but this kicked it into a whole new level.

What killed me:

* Don’t interrupt me.

* Dean’s not home right now. Please leave a message.

* (”With these angel cuffs on, Michael’s under control.”) You keep telling yourself that.

* THAT CREEPY ASS SMILE after Sam says that the Impala’s trunk could hold Michael!Dean too. IT’S SO CREEPY WHAT IS IT

* I called them. [smiles, fake gasp of surprise] It’s a party.

* (”Sam, are we going to die here?”) ANOTHER CREEPY LITTLE SMILE like he could not be less intimidated if he tried.

* I can hear you. [they move about 5 steps further] Really?

* Remind me, Castiel, we’re west of Kansas City? (Dudes, he is an archangel, did you think walking into another room was going to keep him from hearing you?)

* Yeah, put a chair against the door. That’ll help.

* The last thing you’ll see is this pretty smile. AND HE DOES THE TONGUE THING THAT JENSEN DOES so in the small moment to me he was Evil!Jensen. I would read that fanfic. it made me SO uneasy.

* I’m in his head. LITERALLY.

* (”He’s lying.”) No, I’m not. And I can still hear you.

* God -- Chuck -- is a writer, and like all writers, He churns out draft after draft. (The way he sort of labors over every letter in the word “Chuck”, it’s so contemptuous, almost like he’s saying “Fuck”?)

* He never would’ve been so... anemic. [absently cleans a fingernail]

* [leans forward] Even God can die. Ugh, the chill that went down my spine.

* Cool science project. 

* When they put the electrodes(?) on him, he’s sort of glancing back and forth, HE’S SO AMUSED, he even laughs disparagingly. 

* Oh, Cas. I believe in you. LOL

* In there? You’re all mine. *audible swallow*

Ugh, if AU!Michael!Dean was a lotion, I would smear it all over my body.

Thank you for coming to my Jensen Talk.

[lassies]

klonopin rambles

(insert the amazing deancas scene from 15x02)

cas knows that what he did was all him and his choices. him being resurrected again and again was gods meddling. but rebelling for dean,taking on sams insanity, choosing to raise and care for jack, ALL THE THINGS HE DID he did it for the people he loves. motherfucker wasnt even supposed to feel love.

that is ALL castiel babey.

castiel has always been one to disobey heavens orders, of course he was chucks favorite castiel. bc even after a bunch of factory resets, castiel still finds himself rebelling, or atleast questioning heavens orders.

and the apocalypse world cas was not like that, he may have been rebellious in the distant past, but without dean in that world, there is no one to help him down the path of free will. so the castiel we see is a factory reset version...that stuck...(i guess? idk hes different...) and is still taking heavens/michaels orders....not our cas at all. no wonder he abandoned that dimension.

like i bet god was losing his goddamn mind when dean broke through castiels mind control by saying HE FUCKING NEEDS HIM (should be love but ok jensen) which btw was all after naomi literally trained castiel to not hesitate when it came time to kill dean. she made him kill THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS copies of dean to even be considered ready. i bet that shit was also funny to chuck.

like, dean is praying and praying for cas to come back-literally right after he stayed in purgatory for a year, EVEN THOUGH HE HAD A WAY OUT, in order to find castiel and bring him back to earth with him. (and even tho he failed chuck made sure that cas came back to him :))))) )

and while the man who started out thinking prayer was bullshit, is now praying daily for castiel to come back, and castiel is in heaven being forced to kill dean over and over again. damn god probably lost his shit at that one LMFAO. bro. he LOVES that deancas drama. same.

but like dean said in fucking 8x17, he needs castiel. early season 13 is the prime example (dean emo abt cas dying) dean even prayed to god to bring cas back ???? and p sure god was like “nah, not yet.”

but then jack came in and started ruining his story. im sure god would’ve eventually gotten bored without cas (like he did in season 7 👀) and brought him back eventually, but chuck barely got to enjoy all the nephilim and emo dean lashing out drama bullshit before jack fuckin awoke cas in the empty not even that long after castiels death!!! lame!!

i bet that was the first straw for god. and shit! jack killed michael! i bet that made chuck absolutely pissed! (and honestly, scared of this powerful being.)u kno he wanted an apocalypse! and atleast see how the winchesters would deal with it/try to stop it all. but jack stepped in, AGAIN. marys death was perfect though. he could get jack off the board, and even make on of his fathers pull the trigger. good entertainment right there (to chuck atleast lmao).

but the jig is up and chuck has said FUCK this dimension, and undid everything sam and dean ever did. he is leaving them to get massacred, and without gods help, team free will stay dead this time.

except i guess he forgot why he liked those winchesters. they are best out of all the incarnations of them, always able to deal with what god throws at them.

and the hope that they get through this and finally live a life without strings being pulled is whats going to get them through this. but dean needs to recognize that the obstacles were placed by god yes BUT how they ran the course was all them. cas even said this to him. dean is angry that he never had any control of the life ending events in his life, but i hope cas helped him start to realize that he had control on how he handled these obstacles!

the crazy ways he has saved the world, the family he built, the LOVE in his life, was all him!!

castiel tonight said “no dean, what we have is REAL.” and im fucked up rn. castiel knows he loves dean, just like he knows that rebelling for dean fucked up probably like, a million years of the strings being pulled perfectly for the (first, lol) apocalypse. chuck is even surprised by it, the fact castiel has given up everything to help dean and to fight for whats right.

theyre making it up as they go

and guys

THEY FELL IN LOVE

not even on purpose, deancas wasnt in the script (which i can only assume is gods script too). destiel is accidental by the writers, and i think thats a perfect fucking parallel to whats going on here.

like its funny how god is like the writers throwing all these weird ass big bads and high stakes cuz it sounds interesting

and yet the fans care more about the characters and their choices and outcomes and relationships and so on. all of which is what their free will allowed them to do, and that is the huge focus this season.

and while maybe their free will was limited, but they still had it.

and thanks to that free will, or what may they had of it, cas fell in love with dean.

even the writers, and spns god, they did not intend for dean and castiels relationship to evolve into...this...

anyways dean is scared that theyre relationship (no matter platonic or familial or romantic etcetc) is all chucks doing and everything he felt has been fake. but castiel knows god damn well it isnt.

what they have is REAL

and now i can confidently say that castiel loves dean 100%. romantically. obviously i believed it but i mean, i couldnt really explain it well, until this scene of course. this scene hits the nail in the fucking coffin.

im aware that this can be read as that team free will and their actions are all real but while thats true....i truly do not believe that this is what this scene is talking about...

castiel has laid it all out on the table finally, it is now deans turn.