#the dean at the beginning was the dean at the end of his journey

[mattzerella-sticks]

Dean at the beginning of the episode and the end had different hairstyles and clothes, and seemed to be acting different.

Dean was very cagey about the truth. If this was another universe in the mulitverse, why not at least admit his name was Dean? He didn’t have to give his last name.

Lata was the one who suggested the multiverse theory. All Dean said was that he was ‘between worlds’. Didn’t mean it was another Earth. That he was dead and not of this world. He could have been of that world, when he was alive. But he’s neither alive or dead. He hasn’t been born and he’s also been dead.

Chuck is supposed to be powerless. How could Chuck have activated something like the akrida? He lost but not in a way that would have meant anything. His power wasn’t destroyed, it was transferred over. And if he did activate it, why zero in on Lebanon, KS in the 70s. This seemed way to focused on Dean then anything else.

Dean’s still meddling. He gave Mary the Colt and told her to use it on a ‘yellow-eyed demon’. I doubt that’s what Jack intended for him to do with it. And, in fact since Chuck is no longer at the wheel, why would Azazel even know about Mary unless she’s put between his crosshairs like Dean is doing? I don’t think that’s what Dean is intending but he’s only thinking about how to ‘improve’ this timeline.

His timeline.

There’s more to this story, clearly. More things Dean isn’t telling us nor the Scoobies. More things that were left unsaid and absent.

It’ll all come full circle in due time.

[wellofdean]

how can a show be about hatred of women when there are no women in it who are important that aren't doomed by the narrative? now misogyny is for men? supernatural hates and kills women, and you want to claim that that the misogyny is towards the men? god forbid women do anything i guess.

You know what? Your unwillingness to own your opinion publicly and your tone notwithstanding, this is actually a good question, anon. You are referring to this post, I think.

Misogyny in its simplest definition is hatred of women. For me, though, that definition feels a bit too narrow and a bit too gender essentialist. As a rejector of gender essentialism, I would broaden that definition to say that misogyny is the hatred of that which is seen or understood as feminine, or all the things that appear to exist on that side of the binary -- man over woman, logic over intuition, rationality over emotionality, etc. The things on the feminine side are weak, irrational, soft, untrustworthy, dangerous.

I like philospher Kate Manne's take on it -- she calls misogyny the enforcement arm of the patriarchy in her excellent book Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny, arguing that misogyny (like racism) is not about personal feelings, it's “a social and political phenomenon with psychological, structural, and institutional manifestations”, and it's mission is to maintain the status quo of gender hierarchy. Misogyny operates as patriarchy's "police force" to enforce gender roles, punishing those (usually women) who deviate from them, and keep everyone (again, usually women) in their rightful places, and while obviously misogyny is directed at women, and this is the topic of Manne's book, I would argue that if women under patriarchy have a place to be kept in, so do men, whose deviation is, in some ways, even more threatening to the status quo.

I said in my post that the overt misogyny directed at women in Supernatural is cartoonish and ridiculous and feels too obviously stupid to be unintentionally placed there, and amounts to a depiction rather than a replication or approval of it. Meanwhille, Dean's masculinity is often just as cartoonish. He's practically play-acting Fonz Solo when he shows up at Sam's in his daddy's big leather jacket and muscle car. However, while Dean does performatively pose as the ultimate man's man and womanizer, leering at college girls and cheerleaders and even Sam's girlfriend, when he is actually called upon to interact with a woman who is not troped to the gills with hot girl stereotypes or posing for Sam's benefit, he is very consistently nothing but respectful and does no leering whatsoever.

Meanwhile, though Sam is too cool and urbane for the leering, he is lying to Jessica about his life and his family, which endangers her and gets her killed, while Dean, we learn soon enough, told Cassie everything the minute he thought he was in love with her. Dean play acts misogyny, but Sam is the one infantilizing his woman. And, even though Dean spends a lot of energy aggressively big upping his man-cred, the fact is that he is the intuitive, emotional one, and he plays an undeniably feminine role in his family. He's John's partner, Sam's mother. He's the one who wants to hold the family together for the sake of love.

All of this is in the FIRST SEASON. Watch it again. Think about the way Sam only agrees in the end of episode 1 to go with Dean after Jessica gets classically fridged, so Sam gets called to his hero's journey. Think about how Dean went to his brother, vulnerable, alone and afraid, needing help, and how, in the end, Sam's acceptance of their quest is not an acceptance of Dean at all. Think about how Sam is a direct mirror to John who has deserted Dean at the time the story begins. John wants Dean to submit himself to John's will, but he treats Dean with scorn, and respects Sam, who refuses to do so. Think about how trope-loaded Mary's white nightgown and Jessica's skimpy tomboy/girlish and self-consciously cute briefs and smurf crop-top are -- how what is being killed when they both die is symbolic mother/modern-twist on maiden (or whore?) femininity, which sends John and Sam on a revenge quest, and about how Dean DID NOT CHOOSE to be on that journey; he was DRAFTED.

The final episodes of the season make Dean's role explicit when he pleads with Sam and John for family, for love; tells them they are all he has, and Azazel, possessing John, praises Dean for being the one who keeps them together, who always looks out for their family, and think about what a knife to the heart it is that that's how Dean knows that John is possessed: his real father would never value those things about him. He'd think they were too soft, too feminine.

If you watch Supernatural from the beginning, keeping an eye out for every time Dean is feminized or someone (often SAM!!) drags him by impugning his masculinity (I think @ilarual is doing a tally of this? Or someone else?) it's really hard to unsee once you start noticing it: Dean is subjected to misogyny ALL THE TIME, and he subjects himself to it -- pushing down all his softer feelings until all he has is anger and fear -- it's the kind that tells him that he's isn't man enough.

Like, can you not see that a saying 'Supernatural kills female characters' ergo it is a misogynist story is just...too blunt an instrument? Supernatural kills women, and it also kills and tortures men. Is there misogyny in it? ABSOLUTELY. Misogyny is a deep vein running through absolutely everything in it, but most of that misogyny is THE REASON TO TELL THE STORY. The fact that it is a story ABOUT MEN is not misogynist in and of itself, particularly when it is so critical of what men become and and are forced into by hegemonic masculinity. For my money, Dean is intentionally and thoroughgoingly queered from the off! It is no accident. It would be difficult to do that as completely as they do without it being part of the actually DNA of the story.

WHICH IT IS.

And PS. the fact that you think none of the women in SPN are important is pretty misogynist of you.

[k-slla]

Like A Wrecking Ball

Gif is just to get your attention- this is not a Demon!Dean fic- I hope I won't disappoint you! 🔥🤭

A/N- had a dream yesterday, listened to THIS SONG and voilà- here you go! 🫣🤭

Pairing- Jensen x Fem!reader

Warnings - 18+ ONLY, semi-public/public fingering, hair pulling, unprotected PinV, breeding kink, dirty talk - if I missed any, let me know:)

W/C: ~1.7 | My Masterlist

Not proofread (only once, instead of my usual 5 times😅)/mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

To some, it might have seemed rude of you to steal Jensen from his party, but he for sure didn't seem too mad about it. How much small talk does one have to make on his own birthday anyway. They'll forgive him for ditching the dinner with you.

You didn't plan this night to end this way. At least not this quickly, but you only had yourself to blame for that. Hadn't you started playing footsie with him during dinner, he probably wouldn't have pulled you to the bathroom either. That's where it all went down. Or in his case, up. But you wouldn't have liked to get caught by someone, so you kept the action in there short. It would have been a thrill for sure, but having both of your parents at the party, the risk of being busted was way too high.

Now you both sat in the backseat of a taxi, panting hard between your kisses, unable to keep your hands to yourselves. Jensen's fingers slid up your thighs under your dress, where you had already drenched your panties. You had to bite hard down on your lower lip to keep your moan under control, when he slipped one finger past your lace underwear, pushing it into your cunt. You grabbed onto his wrist to stop him, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, it would have been too hard for you to keep quiet if he'd kept going. “Please, Jensen.”

You looked into his eyes. Desire had darkened them almost black. “No, sweetheart.” He laughed at you.

“You know the order. First my fingers.” He whispered, kissing down your neck, and slipping his hand back into your underwear. His lips moved up to kiss the delicate skin under your ear. Tickling of his beard made you pull your shoulder up and squeaked lightly. You didn't let him get away with the teasing, and swiftly unzipped his dress pants, and locked your hand around his cock over the boxers.

Neither of you cared what the driver thought of you two. It was too late for that. This definitely wasn't the first time for neither of you to make out, and even more, in a taxi.

Feeling your hand in his pants, Jensen gasped. “Fuck.”

“You didn't finish telling me the order, babe. Cat got your tongue?” You teased close to his lips as you saw how hard it was for him to get a word out.

He slid his tongue past your lips, claiming what's his, and stealing your breath with the kiss. Jensen pulled his fingers out of you and settled on rubbing your clit through the thin lace cover.

“You know what's coming after my fingers.” He smiled darkly, making your imagination run wild.

Of course you knew the order. The same one he had set in the beginning of your relationship. The order always remained the same.

First he'd use his hands to make you cum on his fingers, depending on his mood, he always didn't let you finish the first round. Jensen loved to see you beg for him until you were in tears.

Then he'd take sweet sweet time to eat you out. That man loved your pussy more than breathing, and when eating you out, he was always generous, making you finish on his face for him to lap up your juices like he was saved from the desert in thirst.

And finally, after all that teasing and torture, he'd finally claim you as his and that was always the sweetest release you waited for the most. Your bodies were just made for each other, you swallowing every inch of him, Jensen always filling your cunt to the brim with his seed. Simply put, starting a family was the next big step in your lives, and both of you made sure that you'd enjoy the journey to the destination to the fullest.

You didn't know how much longer you could hold on. The drive home seemed just infinite. Suddenly Jensen pulled away from you and drew back to the opposite side of the backseat.

Your mind was completely fogged, thinking only about what was waiting for you at home. The need you had for him right now was unbearable. But you didn't have to suffer for long.

The car pulled to a stop in front of your and Jensen's home, and you tried your best to keep your composure getting out of the car. Neither of you touched each other while Jensen unlocked the door. As soon as it closed behind you, you were both at each other again, not bothering to find your way to your bedroom.

You began to quickly peel off layers from Jensen, starting with the jacket while he worked on his pants, until there was nothing left on him. You took a step back, looking up and down on him, feeling the arousal pool between your legs from hunger at the sight of his hard cock. “Jesus, how are you real....” you muttered, holding your breath. He closed the distance between you and grabbed your face into his palms, pulling you into a heated kiss, before he whispered into your ear.

“Was your dress expensive?”

“What? No.” You whispered and pulled away in confusion.

But Jensen's arms around you kept you close to his body and before you knew he had ripped open the back of your dress, making the buttons from the back of it fly across the room.

“Jensen!” You yelped, completely surprised by his action.

“What?” He laughed and his ‘not-so-innocent’ innocent laugh brought a smile to your face, too. Jensen removed your dress, leaving you only in your underwear and thigh high stockings. Running his hands over your ass, he pulled you back into him.

“Fuck, you're damn gorgeous, you know that?” His fingers locked in your hair, pulling on it and making you mewl in the pleasurable pain, moving forward slowly so you'd back into an old oak dresser decorating the hallway.

The sloppy wet kisses he left on your neck tied your tongue. “Jens- please.”

“You're thinking what I'm thinking, babe, hmm?” You knew exactly what he meant and nodded eagerly. Step number two was definitely going to be skipped tonight. Immediately he curled his thumb under your panties and pulled them down.

“Oohh, fuck..” you let out a shuddering breath when a slight coldness touched your wet pussy.

“Up.” Jensen said and helped you onto the dresser, pulling your legs open for him. He didn't waste any time and in a quick move he sheathed himself inside you. Your head fell back in silent scream and nails dug deep into his muscular shoulders. “Oh…oh, fuck...yes...” you breathed out heavily with each of his deep thrust. He picked up speed and it was harder for you to control yourself.

“Don't you hold back now, love....I want you to be heard to the end of the street..” he gently brushed away a strand from your face that had fallen out of your hairdo.

Jensen loved when you couldn't keep quiet. He just enjoyed hearing you cum, the louder the better, whether it would happen on his fingers, all over his face or on his cock with him when he fucked you. He enjoyed all you had to give to him.

You sat up, bringing Jensen's face closer to yours, kissing him hard and pulling his hair, drawing a deep groan out of him. His fingers dug deeper into hips, holding you in place for him to keep pounding harder into your pussy.

Jensen's moves and words started to clash with each other. From his moves it seemed like you were just an inanimate toy for him to rut into, but he still spoke sweetly against your lips. Showering you with affection and praises, softly caressing the rest of your body, that wasn't getting used by him.

“Fuck..love you, baby..love your little pussy..gonna put my babies into you.” his eyes were completely fixated on yours, keeping you from looking away, his moves not faltering yet. “You'll take my babies, won't you?” He breathed out harshly, thumb brushing over your plump lips.

“Yes! Please, babe..Fuck.. I'm getting closer..” you cried out. “I need…ah…” Jensen groaned deeply when he felt your pussy clenching around his cock, trying to keep him inside of you.

Without another warning, you suddenly snapped. “Oh, god, Jensen! Yes!” Your head fell onto his shoulder, completely overtaken by bliss as Jensen kept driving into you.

“You're so good for me, baby, coming on my cock just as I like it.” He gently lifted your head from his shoulder. “Aren’t you a good girl?” His green eyes looked for an answer in yours, but all you managed was to nod.

Just as you, Jensen was breathless. “I’m getting close, sweetie, but I want you cum again..with me. Can you do that?”

“Yes..” you shuddered, and bit your lips, already feeling it build inside you.

Your hands draped over his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Jensen's nibbed on the delicate skin on your neck. It didn't take long for you to fall apart for him again. But now you were just a soundless mess, waiting for him to cum and fill you.

With a hard groan, he stopped inside you, spilling his seed into your womb. “Oh, god..I love you, Jensen..” you whispered in the crook of his neck.

He pulled away slightly to take a look at you, but your bodies stayed connected. “I love you, too.” He pressed a soft kiss on your swollen lips, relishing the taste of the little bit of gloss that was still left on your lips.

You held onto his face, not allowing him to pull away from the kiss. Although you were satisfied, very much so, the stubble under your fingers made you now miss the feeling of his tongue and his tickling beard between your legs.

“Hmm, what did you say?” You asked with a grin on your face, enjoying the confusion on his. “You're still hungry? Mm, yeah, me too..”

He started laughing and lifted you off the dresser. He tugged on your hair and a little slap landed on your ass before he turned you towards your bedroom. “Go. You know the position I want you in.”

He let go of you and you quickly went to your bedroom to wait for Jensen to follow you. Laying on the bed you let out a big sigh. You had no regrets on leaving the party, and were quite sure neither did he. Your anticipation was high when you heard him walking into the room.

The night was still not over for you.

Tags: @jackles010378 @nescaveckwriter @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @winchesterwild78 @anundyingfidelity @suckitands33

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[thebiggerbear]

Call My Name - One - Phase One Is A Go

Summary: And so begins Phase 1.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Ahhhh I'm so excited to take this journey with you guys. I've been working on it for forever!!! I really hope you like it. It has been so much fun to write!!!

I have to be honest, I'm still learning all the ins and outs of posting fanfic on here and what that entails so I want to say up front that this is a sort of dark fic but not completely? Without giving anything away, there will be some dark elements. I will absolutely put those warning when that chapter happens but I just want to give you guys a heads up early on in case.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Songs for chapter (also listened to while writing): Prison Fight - Tyler Bates; Run For Your Life - The Siege

Series Masterlist

Warnings: sanctioned assassination; violence/blood; implied gore/death/murder; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; language; implied sexual imagery; hints of manipulation

Word Count: 8515

Series Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl; @deangirl96; @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @ej13928; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

Some days were tough. Some days were harder than most. But here you were, getting through each day with only one goal in mind. Everything you did, every decision you made, every breath you took — it was all leading towards one specific objective.

And that’s why you were here now, at a black op CIA site, watching as they pulled a comatose Soldier Boy out of containment.

“Are you sure about this?” Grace Mallory asked as you both stared down from the observation deck at Vought’s original Supe they had cooked up. It wasn’t too often that Grace showed her soft side; most didn’t even know she had one actually. But right now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see concern mixed with understanding topped off with a bit of careful hesitation. While you hated the concern and appreciated the understanding, you couldn’t blame her on the hesitation. Soldier Boy was basically a nuclear reactor in human form and he hadn’t gone down under the best circumstances, which was putting it lightly. Not only did he not want to go back under for another deep sleep, but Butcher and his team would be in his sights now. And based on what he did to the last team who betrayed him, you all were in for a shitstorm.

You knew this was a terrible idea, that you could very likely die before achieving your goal and you could bring hundreds if not thousands of people with you if you weren’t careful. But you were out of options and just like Butcher and company had arrived at the same decision some months earlier, you had chosen to unearth the strongest weapon you had in your arsenal in the battle between Supes and humans. 

Grace had fought you on it of course. The government had strongly agreed with her assessment; Soldier Boy was too much of a risk to allow him to gain consciousness never mind walk around free. And yet they had no answer when you questioned why they didn’t just destroy him and end it, making the world that much safer. You knew why; they wanted to be in possession of that power, that weapon deep within the Supe’s chest. And that you could work with.

The older woman already knew your backstory and when you pressed the right buttons, backed by Butcher of all people, eventually she came around. You had no idea who she spoke to or what favors she had called in, but sure enough, your mission was greenlit with barely any resistance though a ton of uneasiness. Not unexpected and not entirely unfathomable. Funnily enough, President Singer was kept in the dark on this one; he was too close to Vought and by extension, Homelander and Victoria Neuman. You didn’t exactly mind. It was better for you and the mission as a whole if no one knew that Soldier Boy was still alive. How Grace managed to keep his existence under wraps for all of this time, you had no idea, but you were grateful she was on your side. So when you got the go ahead, you and Butcher took the win and hightailed it to the CIA facility before anyone could change their minds, or worse, figure out what you were up to and try to stop you. 

There were stipulations as you figured there would be: daily briefings, a carefully selected unit of CIA under Grace’s command would be monitoring your every move closely, they reserved the right to pull the plug at any time and put Soldier Boy back into containment, and while you were in charge of the op, Butcher was who you had to answer to in Grace’s absence. That definitely set your teeth on edge. You and Butcher had different ideas on how to get things done, but you reminded yourself that you both had the same goal and that was all that really mattered. So you begrudgingly agreed and now here you were ordering the staff to begin the process of waking the original Supe up. 

You watched as two men in Hazmat suits appeared to be choosing who would pull the figurative straw. You rolled your eyes; they were wasting time. Before you could hit a button and bark out an order, the one on your right seemed to be the one who had lost and warily approached Soldier Boy to remove his mask, practically darting away once he was finished. The staffer on the left was holding a radiation meter in his hand. From your viewpoint, you could see the levels slowly begin to rise. Sure enough, when you flicked your eyes over to the Supe, you could see movement underneath his eyelids, as if he were having an intense dream.

Grace saw it, too, and she ordered the two men out at once. There was no hesitation in following her command. Once they were out, Grace nodded to the staffer on her other side and he stayed at the ready, finger hovering over a button that you assumed would flood the room with Novichok gas within seconds if needed. Another employee darkened the windows in front of you. You could still see out but Soldier Boy wouldn’t be able to see in. A switch was flipped somewhere and the lights went down. The backup power source came on and the room was flooded with a red halo from the emergency lights. An alarm started to sound throughout the facility, as if someone had infiltrated the building, but everyone’s lack of movement and surprise confirmed there were no intruders. Instead, everyone’s focus was on the Supe who was going to open his eyes at any second. 

Grace turned back to you. “Are you ready for this?”

You grabbed the gas mask that had been given to you as a contingency. “Butcher and his team ready?”

“Ready and standing by,” someone informed you both.

You gave Grace a nod and turned to leave the room. 

“Hey,” she called, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that concern again, this time framed by the cold steel you’d gotten to know over the last few months. “If it looks like it’s not going to happen…” She let her warning trail off; both of you knew what would happen if things started to go sideways. She’d do her best to get you out before you got killed, but there was a high chance it wouldn’t happen. Then you’d be sealed in with a live nuclear reactor and that would be the end of you, and all of that would be before Soldier Boy could choose to unleash any of his wrath on you.

Giving a curt nod, you swiveled your head back in the direction you were headed in, determination filling your veins no matter the outcome. People cleared the path for you, fear plain as day on their faces. Not fear of you or even for you, but fear of what lay beyond in that chamber. Fear of what you had lobbied hard for to be woken up that would have been better left sleeping, for all eternity if some of them had their way. You didn’t pay them any mind and held your head up higher, a familiar blanket of cold indifference settling over you. You ignored their terrified gasps as you pulled one of your swords out of its sheath and headed for the open door. Once you were past it, after a few feet, you stopped right before the entrance to what could very well be your death, ignoring the sound of the door sealing shut behind you. 

You waited to be confronted by a group that had been specifically chosen for this op by Grace and Butcher. You could hear them approaching, talking low amongst themselves and trying to formulate a plan, which from some of their tones you could tell it wouldn’t hold up very well and not even that long even if you weren’t there to stop them. Sure enough, as you knew would happen with a few more footsteps, they rounded the corner, looking for an exit, only to find you.

The group of men had been dressed as security for the facility and the six of them varied in size. The one in front, a big burly guy who appeared to have declared himself as leader, sneered over at you. “Well, what do we have here?”

The way he looked at you, the vibe coming off of him as well as a few of the others… They had been chosen well; you could already feel the urge to wipe them off the map radiating throughout your body. Your thoughts were running rampant and as one of them leered, you could sense an all-too familiar rage attempting to burn brightly within you that you then masterfully directed throughout your body.

You swung your sword in your hand and tensed, getting ready. 

The leader laughed, turned to the other five, and ordered, “Get the bitch.”

The corner of your lips lifted in response. This was going to be a fun little workout for you that you could get in right before facing off with the final boss. Three men came charging at you and your sword flew with incredible precision as you spun in a dance you’d practiced a thousand times during training. You sliced open one and cut the other’s throat before either of them could even dream of laying a hand on you. When the third came closer, you made short work of him, and as you were about to injure the leader, he took one of the other two that had been hesitant to engage you, practically cowering, and used him as a human shield. He shoved the lanky man forward, right into your sword. You left it there and pulled your other one, kicking the dying man to the side. The sixth man cursed out loud and began running in the other direction. You pulled one of your knives from your belt and sent it careening into the back of his head, making him fall flat on his face. You then turned towards the one you had purposely saved for last. 

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “You want some of this? Then come get it!” He pulled your sword out of the guy he’d thrust onto it and began trying to swing at you. You effortlessly dodged each of his blows and you waited for him to lose energy. He wasn’t even worth parrying with. Sure enough, when you saw the arc of his arm begin to slow down, you made your move. You avoided the blade coming for your torso by dropping to your knees and sliding over to him and cutting into his side with your sword. Your movement propelled you forward, cutting deeply, and he let out the loudest yell you’d heard yet. He pathetically tried to point the sword in your direction but you easily sidestepped the movement, watching him begin to bleed everywhere. 

He tried to weakly lift the weapon once more as he held a hand over his gaping wound but you stopped him by bringing your blade down on his arm, effectively removing the limb and forcing him to scream out in pain again. It was like music to your ears and you stood there before him, glaring down at the piece of shit who didn’t deserve to be alive to even have come across you. You had a sneaky suspicion that Grace had chosen this one. 

“Now you know what they felt,” you snarled quietly.

He scowled back at you and spit blood in your direction, with you stepping back to avoid the spray. “Fuck you, you dumb bitch! Just like all the rest!” 

You gave him a nod and lifted your sword, his eyes slightly going wide at the sight. “Like all the rest,” you echoed and brought the blade down, hard. 

Though his screams turned piercing, you took him apart piece by piece within seconds, making sure he felt everything before you finally ended him. It was more mercy than he deserved. He was worse than all of the others combined, not that they were angels themselves. Blood coated you and both swords so you used one of the others’ shirts to wipe the red stains from one of the blades. You pushed it into its sheath on your back once you were finished and held the other aloft as you pulled out the security key card Grace had given you. You could hear Soldier Boy’s breathing increase and you knew you had to get into his room and fast. 

You made your way to the control panel on the left side of the doors, scanned the card, and tossed it once the green light appeared. The tell-tale sound of the doors opening sounded and you readied yourself, sword in hand.

Once the doors had pulled aside and a low level of smoke cleared which you suspected was gas (perhaps Grace had to keep him subdued while you were meting out justice on that asshole), you saw exactly what you had come for.

There stood Soldier Boy, glaring at you, his chest rising and falling, his hands in fists. Obviously, having just woken up and gotten to his feet, he was still a bit disoriented but not enough that you could take him by surprise and win. You could also see a sheen of yellow beginning to form in the center of his figure and you knew you only had seconds.

You stepped into the room, knowing there was no going back now and that Grace was watching every move from behind the dark glass. The yellow glow started to manifest and you took a quiet breath in. His eyes narrowed and he moved to face off with you, his right fist clenching harder. 

You held up your free hand. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to break you out.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re with the Reds, aren’t you? You Commie motherfuckers expect me to believe that again?” He roared with a rasp, the color of the light in his chest turning from yellow to a luminous gold with a pinkish haze. 

You lifted your sword and placed it into the other waiting sheath on your back. At the action, Soldier Boy tensed further and took a step towards you.

You raised your other hand. “I’m not here to harm you.” He eyed you sharply, disbelief all over his face. “We’re not in Russia. We’re in the US, in upstate New York, at a black op CIA facility. You’ve been here for the past six months and I’m here to get you out.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, we—”

“Why?” The Supe yelled, fury lacing his tone, and the gold light got even brighter.

Gas suddenly began to flow into the room from vents in the ceiling and another loud alarm sounded, one you hadn’t heard yet. Shit. Grace was getting ready to lock it down. You’d had your shot and it hadn’t worked. You literally had one minute to get the hell out of there. But you were nothing if not stubborn and determined to see this through. 

You pulled the gas mask from underneath your thin coat and held it up for him to see. You tossed it over at him and he caught it just like you hoped he would. His eyes snapped up at you, distrust and anger still clearly in his green gaze. You really couldn’t blame him but right now, you didn’t have the time.

“Like I said, I’m here to help. We don’t have time for me to explain right now. So unless you want to go back on ice…” You nodded your head towards the billowing gas making its way rapidly down to him. He glanced back in the direction you indicated and he cursed, quickly slipping the mask on. You noticed the light in his chest didn’t get any brighter but that didn’t mean he wasn’t locked and loaded, able to go off at any moment. 

He met your eyes again and you inclined your head back towards the doors that were just beginning to close. “I suggest you come with me,” you threw at him and then spun on your heel, making your way out of the room. You walked a few feet and stopped, glancing back over your shoulder, hoping like hell he would follow you.

Right before the doors could close the last few feet, Soldier Boy slipped past them and came to a stop in front of you. He yanked the gas mask off but held onto it, breathing deeply of the clean air. You had made it out of the room, gotten him out of it — you’d survived the first phase of the plan and now you just needed to get through the next. 

His eyes roamed over the remnants of the scene you both were standing in, seeing the bodies and blood everywhere, and landed on the mask in his hand. His gaze snapped up to you and his expression hardened, his tone dark and dangerous. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because,” you took a step towards him, staring into his eyes, pretending not to notice him tense in preparation for a fight. “I need your help.”

He huffed out a chuckle that was lacking any amusement. “Always a fucking catch. What do you want?”

You took another step towards him and you observed his jaw tightening. “We can talk about it later but right now, we really need to keep m—”

“What do you want?” He repeated.

“I need your help to take someone out.”

“Based on your handiwork,” He gestured to the scene around you with a hand. “I’d say you don’t need any help there, doll.”

Your own jaw clenched. “It’s a Supe.”

His eyes flashed and you knew that he was now aware of just who you were talking about. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, you knew that. There was only one Supe in existence that Soldier Boy had been made to go up against before; the only one that had been as strong as him and he had been evenly matched with; the only one that he would be woken out of a Novichok coma like King Kong and sent to go fight Godzilla. “Homelander,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

You gave a nod of confirmation.

He watched you for a moment and then scrubbed a hand at his jaw. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

You lifted your chin. “He’s always been a problem but he’s only gotten more dangerous and more unstable since you were put under.”

“Not my problem.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes but trying to keep the rage boiling within you in check. “Actually, it is your problem. He wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t given Vogelbaum a sample of your DNA to work with.”

He approached you quickly, the fury radiating off of him and the rose gold pulsing in his chest. You stood your ground. “I didn’t know that Vought would make a fucking kid with it!” He roared.

You wanted to ask just what he thought the mad doctor would do with his sperm but you kept that thought to yourself, knowing this wasn’t the time. You never broke eye contact and you watched as he panted harshly, his hands in fists again, the gas mask dangling from one. You remained quiet, waiting to see what would transpire. One wrong move here and you’d be toast, gone before you could even begin the most important mission of your life. One you were determined to see through no matter the cost. 

Seeing that you weren’t going to respond or react in any way, the gold light dimmed slightly and his hands slowly relaxed. “I didn’t ask for them to betray me and hand me over to the Reds where I was tortured every goddamn day for years. I didn’t ask for them to whip up some wannabe replacement behind my back. I didn’t ask to be forgotten,” he hissed.

You were a little surprised when you noticed the hurt and betrayal shadowing his gaze, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. You watched as he turned to glance behind him, presumably to glare back at the room he’d been held in. But you knew he was also attempting to mask the tiny piece of vulnerability that had unexpectedly come through. You’d seen the videos of the torture he’d endured back in Russia, read his file back to back, sat through his crappy films, and you’d been fully briefed by Grace, Butcher, and the rest of the team who had exclusive dealings with him the first time he’d returned to the States six months ago. You’d also delved deep into Payback’s history and studied up on each and every one of its members. You knew about his PTSD, how he tended to self-medicate with booze, drugs, and women though he was in denial about having the disorder. You also knew that while some of his toxic beliefs and archaic attitudes were still in place, he was not entirely the same person he’d been before he was strapped to a table and Russian scientists proceeded to check off a list of several hundred different ways to try to kill him. The cocky swagger that had come so naturally to him before that was no longer the real deal. If anything, he overcompensated to try to make people believe he was the same Supe he’d been and just as dangerous as ever, with the added bonus of a nuclear threat sitting inside his chest.  

“Maybe not,” you agreed quietly. He turned back towards you. “I can make it worth your while.”

A sly smile began to form on his face as his gaze roved over you. “Appreciate the offer, sweetheart, but you’re not my type. I like ‘em a little older. Although, I will say the swords and the blood, you walking in there like some goddamn avenging angel…kinda hot.”

You fought not to roll your eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Well then, unless you’ve got some fucktastic pussy waiting for me to wreck it along with some Bennies and grade A reefer, we’ve got nothing to talk about.” He lifted the mask up in a gesture of thanks and turned to slip down the hallway past you.

Watching him step barefoot in the blood, you waited until he had made it a few feet before saying, “Your freedom.”

He froze at that, turning his head slightly to the side, listening.

You walked up to him, only stopping a foot or so away. “You help me with Homelander, and you get your freedom. No more Vought, no more government, no more pulling of your strings. You’ll be free.”

He slowly turned to face you, his expression hardened though you didn’t miss the tiny glimmer of hope carefully hidden away in his gaze. “Bullshit. You don’t have that kind of pull no matter how you found me and got me out.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Grace Mallory does.”

“Who the fuck is Grace Mallory?”

You took a step closer, noting how this time he didn’t tense in preparation. In his mind, he had already dismissed you as someone he needed to worry about. While that was a good development for your plan, it irked you a little. You may not be Homelander, but you were certainly no weakling. And with this guy, guaranteed he automatically dismissed you as a threat because he saw you as weaker than him, and also because you were a woman. “Someone who does have that kind of pull.” You took yet another step towards him, confirming your theory when he only glared down at you. “You should know, you’ve met her before.”

At his knitted brow, you supplied, “Nicaragua, 1984.”

You watched as he searched through his memories, realization dawning on his features when he found the right one, his brows arching in slight surprise. “Captain Lesbo?”

You gave him a scowl that would have made a lesser man curl up in a ball. Grace and Hughie had warned you about his outdated and toxic takes on the world around him. 

That sly smile was back on his face. “She was gorgeous back then. I bet she’s aged like a real fine wine by now.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip and you felt queasy at his obvious lustful thoughts of the older woman. Right. Butcher and Hughie had given you a heads up on that, too.

Before he could get too lost in that fantasy, you made sure to interrupt with “She’s got the pull. So, are you in?”

He eyed you sharply, thinking over the offer. You also knew that he was thinking over how to secure the freedom you had dangled in front of him without having to deal with you or Grace. The sound of approaching security had you both snapping your gazes towards the noise. This was a group you couldn’t dispatch as easily as you had the first considering they were the real deal. Well, you could but you wouldn’t. You snuck a glance at his chest, seeing the gold beginning to shimmer underneath his skin once more. You had to get him out of here before the guards showed up.

He glanced back at you. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you. Homelander dead.”

“No,” he ground out, taking a step towards you, his eyes burning into you and the light in his chest shining a golden halo on your face from his close proximity. This time, you were the one tensing, preparing to defend yourself. “What do you get?”

“My freedom as well,” you informed him, never breaking eye contact or stepping away. You were telling him the truth. Once the strongest Supe on the planet was no more, you would be free, in a way. He didn’t need to know how, though.

His eyes roved over you and he let out a disgusted huff. “You’re a Supe.”

You didn’t respond; you didn’t need to. “So, do we have a deal?” You both could hear the men getting closer. “Tick tock,” you reminded him.

The anger never faded from his expression but the light in his chest began to grow a little brighter. “How about I blow this place to hell instead and you come with me? I could do with a little entertainment after being locked away in this shithole.” He let his gaze roam over you appreciatively and you could see just what kind of entertainment he had in mind.

You squared your jaw, not at all in the mood for his womanizing machismo bullshit. “If you blow this place up, the deal is off the table. Mallory won’t stand for it and considering my freedom is on the line, neither will I. I don’t need a bunch of CIA crawling up my ass while I go after Soldier Boy Junior. As for entertainment, now’s a good time for you to get reacquainted with your right hand because there’s no way you’re getting any of that from me,” you snarled. “So either take the deal or I leave you to be hunted down by every single agency and military across the globe once word gets out that you’re still alive. And it will get out.”

You both continued glaring at one another but he didn’t say a word. The men were getting closer.

“Best of luck with that,” you snapped, and turned to slip past him, intent on leaving him behind. Your anger wasn’t feigned; you were pissed. You knew he would be stubborn, mistrustful even, given what he’d been through, but this was just beyond irritating. You didn’t have time to stop and hammer out details; you were now on the run for Christ’s sake.

You headed in the opposite direction of the guards, pulling one of your swords, readying yourself for the sprint to the exit you’d planned for. Grace must be pissing her pants right about now; she’d given you both plenty of time to get out of the building. And if she was pissing her pants, you knew Butcher and his team were crapping theirs. Soldier Boy was awake and now it was up to Grace and the CIA to put him back under, your plan a complete failure. It wasn’t your fault that the Supe was indeed the most idiotic one as Grace had stated him to be. You’d given it your best shot. 

You surged forward, planning to keep casualties as low as possible should you come across anyone. A hand gripped your shoulder, hard, and turned you to face one very pissed off Soldier Boy. You got ready to start the battle of your life, knowing you were most likely going to lose, but you stopped when you noticed his chest was no longer glowing. 

“You got a way out of here?”

You arched a brow up at him. “You’re taking the deal?”

He snorted and released you, his eyes flicking back towards the opposite end of the hallway you were in before returning to you. “You get us out of here, get me some food and the shit I ask for, and we’ll talk.”

“No deal, no dice.” 

You went to move past him when he stopped you again, his hand gripping your upper arm. You could feel the superior strength behind it; if he wanted to, he could snap your arm like a twig, exerting very little pressure. But thankfully, he seemed more focused on getting you to listen to him rather than harming you. “You want me to help you kill Homelander?” At your nod, he let out an angry breath. “Done. I would have hunted down that sniveling pussy on my own, anyway. But after you give me what I just asked for. And then I get my freedom,” he dictated.

“We both do,” you tacked on, still shocked that you had managed to get him to agree.

His eyes roamed over your face and then he gave you a nod, letting you go. “So which way to the fucking exit?”

Just then, the guards broke through the door and spilled out into the hallway, spotting you and shouting at one another to take you both down. Soldier Boy turned a ferocious glare on them and began to step around you to take them on when you grabbed his bicep. The action prompted him to glance down at your hand, his gaze then lifting to yours. “This way,” you urged, and began to run. Thankfully, he fell in step right behind you. Bullets were suddenly being fired in your direction and you had to practically fly out of there. Those bullets might ricochet off Soldier Boy but they wouldn’t bounce so easily off of you. 

As you were passing a small vehicle that you’d seen security guards traversing in on your last visit, he picked it up and launched it at the guards pursuing you. You heard the sickening sounds of machinery crunching flesh and you could only hope no one had died or had life threatening injuries. Instead, all you could manage to do now was to distract the Supe and get him out of there.

“Through here,” you called back to him. Relief pooled in your chest when you glanced back to find his attention on you. He hurried over towards you and you punched in the code Grace had given you to memorize. The door opened and you ducked as you pushed past it, hearing the sounds of more bullets flying your way. Soldier Boy was right behind you and you hit the button to close the door. Once it was shut you used your strength to punch the control panel and destroy it so the guards couldn’t follow.

You turned to find Soldier Boy’s brows arched at you in surprise before a leering smirk appeared on his face. “Well, that answers that.”

You let out a quiet scoff and slipped your sword back into the empty sheath on your back. “Like I said, that’s not happening.”

“A shame,” he practically purred at you, amusement clear as day in his eyes alongside a fire you hadn’t seen there before. It became quickly apparent just what that fire was. The image of you both tangled up in one another, the blood still on your skin, and him slamming into you up against the walls of the hallway you were now in made the queasiness from earlier reappear. It got even worse when the image transformed into one of you emerging into the room he’d been held in and him taking you right on the gurney he’d been laid out on, neither of you caring who showed up, who watched, or who ended up dying when he was finished. The queasiness had become full blown nausea at this point, and you forced it back down. You had a job to do after all.

You ignored his eyes roaming over your body and lifted your chin. “Time to go.”

You marched past him and continued on the route you and Grace had planned. Thankfully, he followed and the images began to peter out the closer you got to the outside. You were beyond grateful for that; you could only see his face contorted in pleasure as he rutted into you so many times before you would actually throw up. Not for the first time since you’d been turned, you cursed this gift you had been given.

“I take it Captain Lesbo gave you the code back there?” He asked.

“Who do you think told me where to find you?” You countered.

You led the way through another tunnel until you came to a heavy door that supposedly led to the parking lot outside. You yanked out both swords, pulled your hood up, and flicked your gaze over to the Supe. “Ready?”

You watched as his hands clenched into fists once more. “Lead the way.”

You tested the door. It swung open and suddenly both of you were engulfed in the bright light of the sun. You scanned the parking lot when you noticed the office supplies van parked about three hundred feet away, right where Grace said it would be. “It’s a short run but we’ve got to make it fast. She’ll only be able to get us a blind spot from the cameras for a few minutes. We’re headed for that van over there.” You gestured in the vehicle’s direction. “So when I say go, we run like hell.”

The man gave you a curt nod and held a hand over his eyes, looking over the lot as well. 

You waited, tensed and prepared for a fight, hoping it wouldn’t be a long one. Grace should have eyes on you by now and Team B should be ready to engage you the moment you both stepped out further. You really wished you had an earpiece for this part but due to Soldier Boy’s extra sharp hearing, it had been decided across the board that it was too much to risk. You would just have to keep trusting in the timing of the plan you had come up with. You could hear the rumbling of a motor coming closer, picking up speed and gaining momentum. You held up a hand near the Supe and began to manually count down from 5. 

A box truck was about to pass by as you got to 2, signaling to you that Phase 3 was a go, when suddenly everything went to hell. Soldier Boy stepped out in front of the vehicle, unflinching as it made impact with his body. To your absolute amazement, you silently watched as his feet stayed stationary and the truck began to wrap itself around the Supe, the object needing to go somewhere, and split right down the middle. You could hear the loud screeching of the metal and the terrified yell of the driver before it was abruptly cut off. Your brain barely had time to process what you were seeing when Soldier Boy picked up one half of the sliced truck and launched it in the air as if it were a football. It was aimed at a location where you knew reinforcements were waiting to rush out and engage you from. You heard the tell-tale screams and ensuing splat. Mallory was going to be pissed.

The Supe then turned a glower back onto you. “No need to run now.” You could see that though he had been attracted to you a few minutes ago, had mostly agreed to your deal, and you had broken him out, he still didn’t trust you completely. You could understand that, respect it even. But you couldn’t have him going off script like this if your plan was to succeed. And the plan could not fail. Something you would make clear to him once you were both far away from here.

Truthfully, you should have anticipated something like this. Soldier Boy was volatile, unpredictable at best, but once you had gotten him to switch off the nuke in his chest, you had naively thought you could get him out with a low body count. That certainly wasn’t the case now. You were grateful that you were already mid-op because you knew if you weren’t, Mallory would have immediately shut you down. No way in hell was that happening. 

That last thought spurred you into action. You nodded and sheathed both of your swords, heading towards the van. A strong hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Choose something else,” he ordered.

You shot him an irritated glare. “That’s the vehicle they have set up for us. Which means there’s keys, gas — the works.”

“It also means they can track us.” You were slightly surprised but you kept it off of your features. “Butcher and his cumguzzler thought I wasn’t listening to their bitchfests when they were tracking down my old team for me.” His eyes snapped to yours. “I was.”

Of course he had been. You could see now that this was something everyone had missed when dealing with him in the past, his most recent foray into the modern world included. Butcher and his team had been so focused on the danger the Supe presented and his lethality, that they hadn’t realized just how closely he had been listening and watching. Several examples of this behavior flickered through his mind quickly and you saw every single one which had always turned things to his advantage while turning badly (sometimes deadly) for others. Butcher and Hughie had easily dismissed him as a fossil who didn’t know what a smartphone was. Even Mallory had said he was the most idiotic of all the Supes to ever exist. And he had let them. He let them think he was the Soldier Boy they had seen on their TV screens once upon a time, in old newspaper clippings, and what had been jotted down in his file over the years he had been active with Vought: the public persona and the demanding celebrity personality behind all of that. But this Soldier Boy…this one was far more clever, calculating, and you knew then that this was where the real danger resided. A quick flash of a woman you recognized as Crimson Countess bound to a chair in a double wide followed by an explosion and another image of her charred corpse afterwards confirmed your suspicions. 

Right now, any other person having realized what you just did, they might have turned back. Or they would get him to the next location and bow out, let Butcher and Mallory handle it from there on out. But you weren’t that person and you were fully in this. You had started this and you were committed to see it all the way through. And see it through you would, come hell or high water or murderous Supes. There was no other option; there never had been from the moment you woke up with a foreign chemical running through your veins, enhanced abilities, and fine-tuned senses. What you just discovered about the Supe currently glaring you down could only help the plan in the long run while also ensuring you were even more careful than you already planned to be.

You turned to face him fully and stared into his eyes. “Understood.” You wanted him to know that you knew, even if he didn’t know how yet, and that despite that, you were still sticking to the plan which included him.

He studied you for a moment and you could see that while he was still unsure about you, he was deciding to trust you…for now. He released your shoulder and slightly relaxed his stance. 

“Any ideas?” Since he had changed this part of the plan, you figured he could offer up an alternative.

“Don’t care as long as it runs.” He glanced towards the lot filled with other heavy duty vehicles. 

“Agreed. But we still need to move. We don’t have long before the cameras turn back on.” You immediately made your way towards a dark blue SUV sitting parked near a curb. You had a feeling this may have belonged to some of the agents he had just killed, but it only meant three things to you: keys, gas, and a working car that could handle the speed and damage you would need to get out of here. You tried the back door, finding it unlocked, and you immediately knew you had been right. No one was coming to reclaim this vehicle, not for a while anyway. 

You quickly removed the scabbard from your back and slipped it into the backseat before jumping behind the wheel. Soldier Boy hopped in next to you, watching you as you turned the engine over. You didn’t bother mentioning that once Mallory and Butcher figured out you were in this vehicle, they could track it as well; that would only be counterproductive to the plan and make him more suspicious of you. 

You pulled away from the curb and sped out of the lot. When you got near the security booth, a platoon of armed guards tried to flag you down. This was one of the reasons why the office supplies van had been selected. You could have removed your gear and passed yourself off as a delivery driver; Mallory had already greenlit that part of the plan. This…well, you would need to improvise. 

You glanced over at Soldier Boy who was scowling in their direction. “Hang on,” you warned. Not that he needed to; he’d already proven that nothing could damage or even dent that super strong body of his. You, on the other hand, had to duck down as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor, gunning it. Bullets began flying towards your car but you didn’t let up, not even when you presumably hit a couple of the guards in your bid to escape. You felt Soldier Boy’s hand roughly push you down further in your seat and his other hand land next to yours on the wheel. A few more sickening thuds, pings from bullets, and wet crunches when the car jumped up slightly as your wheels mowed over those who hadn’t moved, and then you were scot free.

“We’re clear,” Soldier Boy gruffed out next to you, releasing you and moving back into his seat. 

You lifted up and glanced in your sideview mirror, seeing the destruction you had just caused getting further and further away. You tried to feel remorse about it, you really did, but that emotion — any emotion — was the gateway to weakness and you couldn’t afford that. Especially not now. 

“You injured?” 

You weren’t but you slid your hood back and automatically glanced down at yourself to double check. “Nope. You?”

You looked up at him and as expected, his bare muscular chest was smooth, free of any injuries. His arms and face contained barely a shadow of a bruise, never mind an actual wound. He noticed your perusal of him and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk. An image of him railing you in the backseat had you turning back to the road, trying to mask your disgust. 

“I’m good, doll,” he assured you. “Real good. Fucking horny as shit, though. It’s been a while. Think you can find us a place to pull over and let me fuck you quick?”

This was going to be a long ride. “Seems to me your right hand is free.”

Instead of being annoyed at your answer, he only smirked wider. “Is that your way of telling me you’d like me to start us off by jerking it while you look for a place?”

“No,” You met his gaze head on. “That’s my way of telling you not to let your wrist cramp up on this mission because you’re going to be jerking it quite a bit.”

He seemed completely unbothered by your words. “You want to see my dick?”

You scoffed in disgust and focused back on the road.

“I’m fully hard right now and let me tell you, it is a fucking sight to behold. Extra strength wasn’t the only thing the V gave me.” His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he continued trying to convince you. “Women love my dick. There isn’t a woman I’ve fucked that has ever walked right again.”

“Wow,” you quipped. “Quite the selling point.”

He ignored your snarkiness. “You see it for yourself, dollface, and I guarantee you’ll be changing your mind. All I’ve gotta do is pull it out, right here, right now, and you’ll be begging for me to slip it inside you.”

You had noticed the bugle in his sweats out of the corner of your eye before you turned away just before; you knew he was telling you the truth. He was horny, hard, and literally about to whip it out. Not unless you shut him down hard. You may not be able to keep him from pleasuring himself right there next to you, but at least he would know there was no way in hell you were going anywhere near his supposedly legendary manhood. You wished you could tell that he was lying but you could only see images of women worshiping him and his body as he thought back over his vast amount of conquests. When you saw his hand reaching into his sweats from your peripherals, you decided the time to make your firm boundaries on this subject known was now.

“I’m never having sex with you so don’t even bother. I’m here to do a job and that job isn’t you, as much as you might like it to be. When we get to the motel, if you want to find an old lady willing to help you with your problem, fine by me. But this,” you gestured between the two of you. “Is never happening.”

He snickered next to you. “You say that now but I’m telling you, doll, one peek at my dick might change your mind. Or when you hear how fucking good I’m giving it to some other gal.” He turned another filthy smile on you. “But just know that when I’m wrecking that pussy, I’ll be thinking of you and how good I know you’d feel squeezing around me.”

The images of you in the throes of pleasure returned and you tensed, your jaw tightening, but you forced yourself to think only of the plan. “What every girl hopes to hear,” you muttered. You glanced in the rearview mirror and very far back, you noticed Butcher’s vehicle following you. You weren’t surprised; Mallory had never really turned the cameras off and it’s not like you hadn’t left a big blinking neon sign back there to get her attention on where you had exited the compound. 

Soldier Boy’s hand rubbed over the bulge in his pants a few times before he chuckled under his breath and went to look out his window. “So, you know who I am, you know my name… I don’t know yours. Why don’t you tell me?”

You clenched your fingers on the wheel and held your breath, focusing your vision on the rearview. 

A moment later, Soldier Boy turned to look at you, smirking. You subtly let out your breath and relaxed your grip on the wheel, placing your eyes back on the road. “I bet it’s a real pretty one. Come on, tell me.”

You could hear him dialing up the flirtation, switching from being direct to now trying to charm you. “Name’s Persephone.”

“Persephone? That is pretty but it sounds like a Supe name.”

You briefly glanced over at him. “It is.”

He seemed to think it over, nodding after a moment in approval. “What’s your real name?”

“Nope.” You shook your head.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You met his eyes once more. “Because you haven’t earned that yet.” You waited another moment before finally breaking away from his intense gaze.

You could see as he took you in, how his eyes roamed over you hungrily, and you knew the moment he decided to accept the challenge he was determined that you presented. Another chuckle escaped him and he looked out his window again. “Alright, doll. We’ll play it your way, for now. Besides, it’s really my name that matters in this situation here.”

Your brows began to furrow and you did your best to get a read on him. What was he talking about? “How so?”

You watched as he turned to look at you and you could feel the rush of desire that immediately ran through him as images of you screaming, begging, and moaning “Ben! Oh my god, Ben! Ben, don’t ever stop fucking me, please! Fuck, Ben! Fucking give it to me! Oh fuck, right there!” floated to the forefront of his mind. You knew what his words would be before he even said them. “Because you’ll be screaming it before long.”

The nausea from earlier was back but you tamped it down and waited until he turned away from you again. Your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and relief consumed you when you noticed Butcher’s vehicle was no longer anywhere to be seen. Not only had you successfully distracted the Supe but the moment Soldier Boy became interested in the topic of you, Phase 4 of the overall plan began. Now you only had to get him to the motel, get him rested and recharged, and then your work could truly begin. Leading you all down the path to the only thing that mattered: the eradication of Vought, and the end of Homelander once and for all.

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[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 21: Cowboy!AU/Ranch

love is a cowboy | @deancaskiss Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8,183 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Fluff, Kissing, Ranch, Cowboy Dean Winchester, Cowboy Castiel, farm, Horses, Cows, Chickens, Bees, Sunsets, Horseback Riding, Gardening, Teasing, Cowboys Boots, Domestic Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Retirement, Found Family, mentions of Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, Gentle Kissing, Boys Kissing, Rough Kissing, French Kissing, Flirting, Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, Romance, Rancher Dean Winchester, Rancher Castiel (Supernatural), Picnics, House Hunting, Surprises Summary: Retirement. Something Dean never expected he’d get to have, especially with Cas by his side. But here they are, and Dean knows it’s finally time. After months of searching, when Cas finds them the perfect forever home to make their own, it feels too good to be true. But it’s real. And it’s all theirs to start something new together. What was once bags packed with weapons and salt becomes cowboy boots, baskets of homegrown herbs, and feed for the animals. But Cas knows there’s one part of the hunting business that Dean still needs. Saving things. And luckily Cas knows exactly how to make that happen to turn their ranch into a home to create their own found family.

Wild Blue Iris | @Sunkenfox Rating: Explicit Word Count: 38,818 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Alternative Universe - Western, outlaws, eventual smut, slow burn of sorts, sheriff Sam winchester, gunslinger Dean Winchester, bartender Castiel, period typical violence, period typical racism, tuberculosis, period typical bigotry, Found family, top castiel/bottom Dean winchester, implied/referenced abuse, bandits & outlaws, cowboys, revenge, murder, friends to lovers, bisexual dean winchester, slow build, angst, bittersweet ending, stubborn dean winchester, rimming, anal sex, oral sex, emotional hurt/comfort, emotionally repressed Dean Winchester, Summary: Five years after the Winchester Gang went their separate ways, Dean Winchester retuned home to Seneca with the hopes of seeking revenge for his father’s death. Setting his sights on the vicious leader of the rival gang, the Leviathans, Dean sets off on a journey to bring his family back together for one last ride. But the handsome bartender that joins makes Dean reevaluate nope only the vengeance that fuels him but his own self. Battling his own inner demons, and the truth of what happened to his mother, love beings to grow on the trail, and a mysterious illness that is slowly beginning to plague him.

Winchester 275 | @mittensmorgul Rating: Mature Word Count: 56,666 Main Tags/Warnings: Horses, Horseback Riding, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut, after the requisite pining, accidental almost-nudity in a hot tub, Cowboy Hats , First Kiss, First Time, Cowboy Dean Winchester, Astronomer Castiel (Supernatural) Summary: Seven years after Sam left the family's ranch to attend Stanford, Dean's completely transformed the family's failing cattle business into a growing horse ranch. Sam's only got one condition for coming back home after graduation-- let him have a shot to build something of his own, the same as Dean's done. The catch? Sam and Eileen, along with their architect friend Hannah, want to turn a tiny corner of Dean's slice of heaven into a dude ranch. The land itself might be heaven on earth, but Dean's invested his entire life into it. He'd made his peace with being alone, until he meets Hannah's brother. Castiel is a solar astronomer who is reluctantly coerced into helping his sister charm Sam's gruff and stubborn brother into saying yes to what has become her dream project. He doesn't imagine he'd have anything in common with a cowboy, but he finds that Dean's the one who ends up charming him. Cas won't do anything to jeopardize Hannah's shot at her dream, and Dean is reluctant to put Sam's homecoming at risk. If only Dean and Cas could keep their distance from one another, maybe they could set aside their attraction for the sake of their siblings’ business plans. The heavens seem to have other plans for them…

Of Dust, Gunpowder and Holy Water | @melancholictearz Rating: Mature Word Count: 104,940 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death, Western!AU, Vampire!AU, Vampire Hunter Castiel, Outlaw Dean Winchester, Strangers to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Angst and Fluff Summary: Castiel is a vampire hunter tracking the creature that doomed the rest of his family to damnation. He crosses paths with Dean Winchester, a cocky outlaw wanting to escape from his mysterious past. They travel together all around the West to fulfil Castiel’s revenge, at the cost of Dean’s life… But what happens when Dean comes back wrong from the dead and has become one of the bloodthirsty creatures Castiel always swore to kill?

The Moonlight Rule | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Explicit Word Count: 129,320 Main Tags/Warnings: Ranch AU, Marriage of Convenience, Slow Burn, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Panic Attacks, Home Invasion, Grief/Mourning, Trauma, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Bottom!Dean/Top!Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Summary: Castiel Novak loves living in Manhattan and feels like he has finally reached a more serene part of his life. After years of hard work at The Lazarus, a boutique luxury hotel, a career opportunity he’s been waiting a long time for presents itself. At last, his problems are behind him. That is until he randomly encounters Henry Winchester, the grandfather of his childhood friend, Dean. Castiel and Dean haven’t seen each other in over ten years. Not since Castiel’s parents stopped visiting the Winchester family ranch. Left somewhat contemplative by this blast from the past encounter, Castiel is then altogether shaken by it when he hears a week later of the sudden passing of Mr. Winchester, as well as the surprising repercussions that come along with it. It seems that their recent and unexpected run-in inspired the late Mr. Winchester to make last minute changes in his will: Dean will only inherit the ranch he’s been running if he marries Castiel and stays married for at least six months.

[doctorprofessorsong]

Destiel Fic Recs

Let's all pretend that I didn't just do one of these because I have clearly been consuming fic at an alarming rate.

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight @huntingthehaggis (Mature, 77k,)

Listen. I am actually mad at all y'all cause this fic has existed since 2013 and nobody told me to read it until now.

Detective Dean Winchester is haunted (literally) by the murder of a little girl. Unable to move on, he makes the decision to summon an ancient creature, Castiel, using forbidden magic. But the murder is only the beginning and he and Cas find themselves in a race against time to fight an ancient evil.

This fic has everything. Immaculate worldbuilding. Trueform Cas. Impeccable humor. Seriously, I devoured it. I'm shocked it took me this long to find it (probably because it's older), but I'm so happy I did.

The Beginning by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) @valleydean (Explicit, 129k)

A horrorfest Endverse fic, Mallory tackles what happened between the Croatoan infection and Dean and Cas' arrival in Camp Chitaqua. It's canon compliant and it really digs into Dean losing hope and becoming the darker version of himself and Cas falling into addiction and losing his angelic powers. 

It's angsty and brutal and gross in the way zombie stories are. It's also got shining moments of love in the face of hopeless odds. Plus there's a character named River so you know it's good.

I also think watching the degradation of these two characters, and the way their love can't be denied even then is just really a good read. 

Above & Below by murron (Explicit, 45k)

Speaking of older fics to lose your fucking mind over, this fic is absolutely immaculately done. Steeped in canon and set in S6, Dean, Cas and Soulless Sam embark on a journey through the circles of hell. Their mission is to recover Sam’s soul and their brother Adam from the cage.

It's really beautifully constructed with the vision of Hell pulled from various pieces of lore. This is a horror story for sure, but it's not a hopeless one. It's more like an epic mythological journey. And at its heart is the love story of Dean and Cas, and a lot of healing for Dean and Sam.

It's high concept. It's poetic. It's a top tier story to meltdown over.

Sentinel by Followsthebees (Explicit, 15k) @follows-the-bees

A delightful entry from the monsterfluffer bang, Dean finds himself increasingly enamored with a gargoyle on the roof of his work. What he doesn't know is the gargoyle feels the same way.

This has some absolutely delicious smut. 10/10 magical creature porn. But also Dean is so cute and lonely and full of love and Cas us such a delightful little creature. A fantastic time was had by all (me). Canon is integrated in a really fun way in a few places and the humor is fantastic.

Just a complete romp.

A pun regarding the word "bull" by zation @zationao3 (Explicit, series 41k)

Smutty and fluffy and oh so horny, this fic is a fun AU with light angst, a lot of sexual tension, but ultimately it's just a fun ride with a happy ending.

Castiel doesn't have time for attachments, but his money does afford him all the comforts of wealth and a string of casual lovers. When he spots Dean on the back of a mechanical bull, he decides he's found his next conquest - and a very willing one at that.

But after that night, both men can think of nothing but a repeat performance. Unfortunately, they failed to exchange numbers. Even more unfortunately, Dean just happens to be the new contactor engaged by Cas' company and therefore off limits. 

There is some delicious smut in this one. The angst is counteracted with a sweet, soft pining and a profound bond type immediate connection that is a delight to read. 

You Better Not Stay by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 17k) 

A fantastic horrorfest thriller, this one delivers jump scares and teen scream delight.

Dean and Cas have been best friends just short of forever and lovers for a year. But now that high school is behind them, Cas wants to leave to find freedom from his fucked up family. Dean can’t bring himself to join him. There’s Sam and the family business.

On the cusp of separation, Dean decides to take Cas on a little date to the abandoned skating rink they used to love when they were kids. Only they aren't alone, and if they're not careful, their last night together could be their last night on earth.

This one is great for the jumps and screams. But it's the soft way they love each other and the vulnerability that make this one memorable. Dean is heartbreakingly earnest trying to impress the man he loves. And Cas is sarcastic and sweet in a perfect balance.

And you're the sky by Desirae (Explicit, 28k)

Quite by accident I have two fics on here following the missed connection/one night stand reappears in your life trope, but they are very different. This one has a lot more roommates to lovers domesticity and some delightful Wings (the show) vibes.

Dean’s best friend, Gabriel, has been grounded due to medical issues. In order to save his small airline, he calls upon his estranged brother, Castiel for assistance. Being a good friend, Dean happily offers up a room in his house to Cas. Only when he shows up, he happens to be the one who got away - a hookup who was going by the name Jimmy.

This fic is soft and sweet. There's a lot of caretaker Dean and domestic vibes. It has the soft vibes of a fic where the two main characters are circling one another and you almost feel like it's inevitable that they will eventually find their way to each other. There is some family trauma, but the angst is largely countered by a lot of intentional healing. Throw in a fantastic cast of characters and this one is definitely worth the read.

Check out my other recs at @riversrecs

[samwinchesterswifu]

Exile on Main Street (Dean Winchester x Reader) Angst

Requested: No

Season 6 x Episode 1

Warnings: slow burn, deeply setted angst if youre ready to cry.

Song Inspiration: "Every Rose Has Its Thorns" by Poison, "Faithfully" by Journey

MINORS DNI

A/N: Oofta. This one got me a little emotional.

Word Count: 1386

Summary: Dean returns to ask her back in the game. Broken and destroyed by the memory of him leaving her for Lisa, she's unsure whether or not that would be a good idea, but these Winchester boys are known for their apologizes.

She sighs, entering her apartment late one evening. Kicking off her shoes, she strides over to the kitchen. Turning on the water she begins to handwash the few dishes left over from last nights dinner. Flashbacks replaying in her head of the brothers, of her past lover, of what her life used to be like before Sam jumped in the pit.

She turns over to her radio that sat on the counter, tuning into the classic rock station that Dean had consistently on. ‘Every Rose Has It’s Thorn’ by Poison turns on and she goes back to cleaning the dishes while humming along. A small tear seeps through her eyes thinking about Dean. Before Sammy jumped in the pit, they had gotten into a deep argument that lead to their break up. Dean had disappeared and she assumed it was to be with Lisa.

She always felt second best to Lisa after finding out about her. She just felt like a toy for Dean, something to hold and to have sex if there were no other options. She knew deep down it wasn’t the case, but after leaving her the way he did, that’s all that ran through her brain.

Wrapping up from dishes, she is completely unaware of the fact of someone breaking into her apartment. The last verse of the song begins to play from the radio and she turns up the sound. Grabbing a whisky glass from her cabinet, and the bottle from the counter, pouring herself one extra large shot. As the song ends, she slams the whisky glass onto her counter, accidentally shattering it in the process.

Another sigh left her lips as her hand began to bleed from the smashed glass. Sneering at picking out pieces from her hand she takes a moment to look up at the window. Seeing a shadow of a man behind her. She stops, quickly turning around to find none other than Dean. Her eyes darts between Dean and her gun that was on the table.

Dean holds up his hands and moves towards her, giving her just a split second to dive towards the table. She’s getting to pulling the trigger when suddenly the gun is knocked out of her hand and her arm is twisted behind her back. Looking up she’s met with Sam’s eyes. She tries to wiggle free of Sam’s grip, getting desperate with tears rolling down her face.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Dean speaks up from behind her now.

“It’s us, see?” Dean takes out the demon knife, and slices on his bicep.

Still trying to wiggle free, Dean also looks for salt in her cabinet, doing the whole routine.

Taking a deep breath, she finally calms down enough to warrant Sam letting go of his grip. Rubbing her wrist to ease the pain she looks between both brothers. Utterly confused.

“You wanna explain whats going here before I beat your ass until you see stars Winchester?” She says through gritter teeth looking directly at Dean.

Dean clears his throat and shifted on his shoes.

“Can you give us a minute Sammy?” Dean voice sounding shaky, almost nervous to be in the same room as her.

“Sure, I’ll be in the car.” Sammy says giving her a look that almost said to hear them out.

Sammy leaves her apartment shutting close the door that they lock picked.

“So?” She says, standing in her kitchen with arms crossed over her chest. Sending daggers towards the man she thought she lost forever in the woes of a woman he loved more.

Dean mentions to sit at her table. She shrugs, moving for him to do so. But she felt comfortable standing. Giving her an advantage to move if she still felt like beating his ass. Dean coughs at the awkwardness.

“You got 5 minutes Winchester,” She states sternly.

Dean takes a deep breath and begins to explain everything. How he got poisoned and how Sam saved him, everything happening with Sam and their family. It was a lot to take in, and time seemed to fly by getting later in the night.

“…So we came to see if you wanted to be back in the game.” He asks, eyes looking towards her in the same old puppy dog look he used to give after a bad hunt.

She was about to say something when she realized the radio was still on. ‘Faithfully’ by Journey started to play through the crappy speakers. Tearing at her heart strings as another flashback occurs of when they were younger, dancing to this outside of the impala.

“Why now Dean? What about Lisa? Ben? All that apple pie life? What do you what me to come back?” She says, choking as she tried to hold back tears.

Another deep sigh left Deans lips.

“I miss you, Y/N, what I did was totally wrong and I’m so sorry I never fixed anything after Sam jumped. I abandoned you and I  acknowledge that I made that action,” Dean takes a pause. She turns back towards her cabinets, grabbing a glass to pour another drink of whisky.

Dean studies her from the table and she can feel his eyes burning into the side of her cheek. She pauses for a second, trying to console herself before speaking to him. However, she breaks, tears start streaming down her face. She grips onto the counter, white knuckling, allowing emotions she pushed down to resurface after a year.

She hears the chair Dean was sitting in scraping against the hardwood floor as he stood up. Crying harder, she was engulfed in a large bear hug. She let it all go. All the memories of their times together whether that was romantically, after a good hunt, or a bad one flood her brain. The memories of her doing everything she did to make sure Dean didn’t jump the gun to say Yes to Michael. The love they made after he returned from the trip of the future and finding out she got bit from Croatian virus and he had to kill her. It was too much to keep down anymore.

Dean consoled her with quietly voiced shh’s. Petting her hair while laying his head onto of hers. One arm was still wrapped around her waisted tightly. To afraid to let go.

She finally calms down after a good while. Checking the clock it was way past midnight at this point. Certain that Sam had probably left the two to chat.

They stand in silence for a little while longer. Letting her bask in the feeling of Dean’s body weight against her after all this time. Taking a deep breath, she signals to Dean to let her take a step back. Which he does reluctantly, still holding on to her arms at arm’s length.

“If I come back, what’s gunna happen Dean? Between us?” She asks, voice hoarse from the crying.

“Whatever you want. We can start over, take our time. If you want nothing to do with me, then I would understand.” He takes a moment to pause before continuing.

“I can’t continue on like this. I need you here with me, with Sam. Hunting or figuring out whatever the hell is going on does feel right without you sweetheart.” Dean says, tucking a strand of hair that fell out her ponytail behind her ear.

“Okay.” She whispers.

“Okay?” Dean asks, heart pound against his chest.

She nods, and Dean lets go of the breath he didn’t even realizing he was holding. He leans down to give her a small kiss on her forehead, hovering for just a moment.

“I have so much to take care of before we leave, this apartment, my job, so I can pack up tomorrow.” She says looking around the place she had gotten used to calling home.

“Yep, nope, totally understand, whatever you need Sam’s and I’s help in we will.” Dean says, letting go of her arms.

“Thank you,” She whispers. Receiving a nod in return.

“I’ll uh, text Sam to come get me, I think he may have left.” Dean says looking out the window assuming he’s  trying to find the Impala.

“Stay for tonight,” She asks. Dean looks towards her longingly.

“Okay.” He speaks out. “Whatever you want.”

[r3medialch8os]

so since u guys liked that i did this with remedial chaos theory i will now also be doing this for epidemiology.

the most incredible thing about this episode is that it is in fact Not merely an homage like most concept episodes are; it actually happens. a zombie epidemic For Real takes place at greendale. it's not a gimmick or a game or a way to frame the plot. the actual conflict is derived from the fact that people are zombies and the study group need to outrun them/turn them back. how often can you say that a sitcom incorporates a storyline like this and sincerely pulls it off? never.

the emotional tension in this episode is framed around troy/abed/jeff and the dichotomy of being a nerd vs. being cool, which respectively get attributed the qualities of caring about the people around you who have turned into zombies or wanting to run and escape from the zombies without trying to help. abed and jeff's costumes are both pointed out in the beginning receiving clear denotations of 'lame' and 'too cool to care' and therefore their positions in the conflict are cemented. the episode has a push-pull with troy being the moving factor, having to decide what he thinks is most important. he gets swayed in the beginning by two girls rejecting him over his costume and jeff mentioning how expensive his suit is. he changes from his ripley costume into a 'sexy dracula'. abed spends the whole episode trying to get troy back to his side, even saying "what defines a nerd? committing to an awesome halloween costume with your best friend?" troy is eventually 'turned back' into his nerdy self (perhaps a zombie metaphor itself, keeping in tone with the theme of the episode) because jeff cares more about his suit getting dirty than surviving the herd of zombies.

a crucial part of the episode is that it is soundtracked by abba music playing from the dean's playlist. now, who would i be if i didn't investigate significant music choices connected to scenes? first up and probably the most important one: s.o.s. is used in the background of a scene where abed confronts troy about changing costumes. troy insults him and walks away. the lyrics are: 'you seemed so far away, though you were standing near. you made me feel alive, but something died, i fear. i really tried to make it up, i wish I understood. what happened to our love? it used to be so good.' next; gimme gimme gimme plays right before the scene where chang and shirley hook up. another insane choice is at the end when troy is fighting the zombies. the whole sequence has mamma mia playing in the background Faintly. then when troy eventually gets to abed and has to fight him, the music comes in much louder with the lyrics: 'here i go again, my, my, how can i resist you?', which i think fits perfectly. the ending song fernando has the lyrics 'there was something in the air that night', both referencing the thermostat changing the zombies back and the fact that it was just an incredibly weird fucking night.

troy is dressed as ellen ripley and also kind of acts as the ripley of this episode. his journey in this as being the sole survivor and the one to eventually save greendale adheres to a common science fiction model where a life-threatening force is faced against the protagonists and they fall off in degrees, resulting in one person being left to mend everything. here specifically, it seems to mirror ripley's journey in alien (1979) as it starts with a crew that eventually gets cut down leaving only her. i thought that was really cool.

more alien tidbits, but the jumping cat scene is also inspired by it. jones the cat is an imporant figure in the first alien movie. in various scenes, members of the crew will go looking for him, then get ambushed by the titular alien and subsequently killed. it is a minor homage to the movie through yet another subtle reference. the bit is also parodying jumpscares in horror movies in general, and how they are used to cheaply amplify the tension. anyways, it's quite the multilayered joke because it also really works out of context as a bizarre comedic moment.

troy and abed's scene in the basement pays homage to princess leia and han solo's scene in the empire strikes back. the conversation in the film takes place just before han is frozen alive in carbonite by darth vader. not knowing if he’ll survive, he kisses leia, only to be torn away from her by stormtroopers. she says 'i love you,' and as he descends into chamber, han replies, 'i know.' an undeniably romantic moment, maybe one of the most memorable ones ever, is applied to troy and abed who have held reign over the emotional core of the plot for the entire episode. it's pretty special that such an iconic moment is given to them, i feel like the creators of the show wouldn't just do this sparingly. it also perfectly resolves their conflict as troy makes such a vulnerable statement and abed assuring him that he already knew, validating their bond once again.

more on troy and abed, it is pretty amazing realizing the emotional implications tied to how dire the situation was. everyone in this episode was under the direct threat of Not Surviving, and still abed sacrificed himself for troy. he knew this was for real. he couldn't be sure if they were going to make it. but i think he had enough faith in troy to aid in his escape. it's very touching. further, it's incredible that troy is willing to fight all the zombies (all his friends) but when it comes time to punch abed, he refuses to do it. he's struck by the force of their friendship, mumbling 'we're friends' defeated before eventually succumbing to his bite.

troy saving the school by controlling the temperature; nicely setting up his further plot with the ac repair school.

him being the one to escape and abed saying 'be the first black man to make it to the end' subverts the common horror trope of 'black dude dies first'. a playful way of keeping up with the horror movie theme of the episode.

also ironically this episode, which features the song mamma mia by abba, sets up a plotline in season two about shirley not knowing who the father of her new baby is, which is functionally the plot of the movie mamma mia!, a musical based on abba's music. probably a coincidence but a pretty funny one.

at the end when the army arrives, they ask the dean about witnesses. when he says he is the only witness, one of the guards reaches into his jacket, suggesting that he's pulling a gun intended to kill the dean and get rid of the witness. when they notice everyone in the school is still alive, they abandon this plan and go for 'scenario b'. kind of dark but i laugh every time that scene happens.

anyways that's all i could pull from my brain crevices for now. this episode is a genuine masterpiece, it will never ever get old and will remain to be one of the most unique sitcom episodes ever created.

[dykemarcille]

the thing is by the end of community. (and this may be an evil post but bear with me.) by the end of the show jeff has undergone an ego death so profound he's like the sam winchester/sookie stackhouse/archie andrews protagonists of the world: a figure so lonely and incapable of actually having a functioning relationship with any of the previously established romantic options in his orbit that he is DESTINED to either a) die alone or b) get paired off with some faceless blurrywife to make the audience feel less bummed out. he'll never be able to repair any of his other relationships. the Jeff Winger of the pilot, a man at his lowest but at the beginning of a grand journey to return to his peak, is actually at a plateau he can never get over.

meanwhile, the dean, ridiculed for years as a weird little pervert, finally ends up on the same playing field as the very friend group he idolized and idealized. the power difference between him and "the study group," insofar as they can be referred to as such, is minimal to non-existent. he's respected, somewhat, but at the very least isn't desperate for that affection. he's still horny about it, but only because he is a weird little pervert—he wants, he just doesn't need. he too has entered his plateau phase.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Five Hundred Miles

Five Hundred Miles by thatpeculiarone (@imthatpeculiarone) Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 6k

Dean Winchester and Cas Novak, along with their friend Charlie Bradbury, have been close friends since sixth grade. Growing up only a couple of streets apart, they were as close as most friends could be. However after years together for middle school, high school and college, Cas ends up moving away to Denver, just when a new stage of their lives was about to begin. Cas is miserable in Denver, missing the life he had back in Lawrence. However, when he realised that he was in love with his best friend, his male best friend, he knew he couldn't stay. There was no way Dean would ever be in love with him... right? However, when Cas awakes to a missed call and voicemail from his friend, he realises that what he perceived wasn't quite as accurate as he thought. So, he begins the five hundred mile journey home.

I will say it time and time again, our fandom is the luckiest, because somehow we got all the best writers out of it. It doesn’t matter if the fic is over 100k or, like this one, less than 10, our writers always manage to give every fic their all, proven once again by Five Hundred Miles. 

This short story is worthy of a Pinefest, in my humble opinion, the way the author packs in Cas’s pining, and even though it’s told from Cas’s POV, a healthy dose of Dean’s pining too, told cleverly though the voicemail Dean left for Cas. A good Cas POV is nothing to sleep on, and this author manages one of my favorites in this short, but so good fic. Don’t miss this one! 

[xspeter]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 1

𐬺 ➾ 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚！𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𐬺 ➾ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆, 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𐬺 ➾ 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡！

There’s something so calming about autumn in New York.

Everyone is calming down from their summer adventures, central park is littered in decorative leaves, and every shop in town is decorated for the season.

You take a deep breath and are met with the warm smell of pumpkin as you enter the local coffee shop. The barista, who must know your order by heart at this point, greets you with a warm and welcoming smile.

You thank the woman briskly as she hands you your coffee, the warmth immediately filling your cold hands as you grab it.

You take a sip of your drink as you leave. As soon as you step onto the sidewalk you’re met with the sound of children laughing, and you glance towards the noise. You’re met with the sight of two children walking to school, one boy and one girl. Your heart pangs a bit at the nostalgia the sight gives you.

No matter how much you try to forget him, you know he’ll always be there. Like a moth to a flame, your thoughts will always eventually lead back to him- to Dean.

The way things ended between the two of you was no one’s fault, it was just a struck of fate that things had to end the way they did. You both wanted different things out of life. He wanted to stay on the road and fulfill his fathers legacy, and you.. well you wanted more.

You wanted an actual job, a stable life, kids, marriage…

Well, more like you wanted all that with him.

When you finally worked up the courage to express these thoughts to Dean, he had thought you were joking.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his warm hands creeping into your own cold ones.

You sniffled, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear, you explained more in depth. “I don’t want this life anymore, Dean. We don’t even have a real home. We’re constantly in different hotels, I don’t have any friends- no money- no nothing! I just want… I want a stable life for both of us. Do you really want to live like this for the rest of your life?”

Dean was silent for a moment, his pupils dialting in shock as he processes what you’ve said. What you’ve admitted to him.

In all the years he’s known you, which is a lot, Dean has never heard you express these thoughts.

“What’s gotten into you, y/n? You’ve never said anything about this before. I mean- since when did you want such a simple, boring life? I mean, what? You’re just gonna go live day to day just waiting to die? Because that’s what everyone else in this world does. We’re lucky! We get to have adventure. We don’t have to just sit down at some boring desk job with the rest of our lives laid out in front of us.” He said hurriedly, his breathing beginning to become erratic.

You bit your lip, “What if.. What if that is what I want, Dean?”

Dean stiffened, his hands instinctively going into his jacket pockets.

“Then I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

You quickly push the memory in the back of your mind, instead deciding to continue on your journey to work.

Of course you often wonder where Dean is and what he’s doing. Last you heard he was on his way to Stanford to pick up his brother, but that was seven months ago.

Sam, his brother, had the same idea as you. He wanted a different life, something without all the danger and unpredictability.

You know it hurt Dean when Sam left, but he still had his dad. And you think a part of him always knew Sam was different from the two of them. Even when you were growing up with the boys you could tell. Sam was more reserved, smarter. Where as Dean and his father were more adventurous, constantly looking for danger where danger shouldn’t be.

You feel a sense of relief as you enter your work building, happy to finally escape from the cold.

Dean knows there’s no possible way he’ll see you. New York is a big city, what’re the chances he’ll see you of all people?

“You okay?” Sam asks, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean turns his head to look at him and goes he’s a nervous smile. “Yeah.”

Sam nods, obviously not believing him.

So much has happened since you left. Sam joined him on the road to find his father and also got powers, they found the demon who murdered their mother, and Dean would have died if his father hadn’t given his life for him.

So, yeah. A whole new bowl of trauma.

“You nervous you’ll see her?” Sam asks. Sam hasn’t seen you since he left home for Stanford, but he knows you leaving really hurt Dean.

Dean scoffs, “No.”

Sam just smiles, “Of course you’re not.”

“I’m really not.”

“It’s okay if you are-”

“I’m not!” Dean yells.

Sam puts both hands up in surrender, turning to continue putting his stuff in the drawers of their motel.

Dean sighs and rubs his temple. Of course he’s nervous he’ll see you. He just wishes things could still be how they were, when the nerves in his tummy were for a different reason.

Deans stomach flutters with butterflies as he knocks on your door. He grips the flowers so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white.

The door opens with a click and he’s met with the gentle, smiling face of your mother. “Hello, Dean.” She says cheekily. Dean laughs nervously, “Hello, ma’am.” He says, his accent slipping out a bit.

“She’ll be down here soon. Why don’t you have a seat while you wait?” She asks, leading the younger boy inside. Dean swallows as he takes a seat, careful to smooth down any wrinkles in his suit jacket.

“You look very handsome.” Your mother says, and Dean thanks her with a smile as she retreats up the stairs, most likely going to tell you that he’s arrived.

Dean fiddles with the pink flowers in his hands. Who would’ve thought going to prom with your long-time crush would be more nerve wracking then hunting monsters?

Dean practically shoots out of his seat once he hears the click of your heels down the stairs. Slowly, he watches you emerge. Your hair is down, and your wearing a beautiful flowing blue dress. You look like a princess.

“You look.. Wow.” Dean stammers, and you giggle, a dark pink coating your cheeks as your eyes sparkle up at him.

“You really think so?” You ask.

“I know so.”

“Are you ready to go?” Sam asks, pulling Dean away from the memory. Dean stands, rubbing his hands on his pants and rolling his neck.

“Yeah.”

Dean throws his head back against the leather seat with a groan. He forgot New York traffic was practically hell on earth.

“Well this sucks.” Sam sighs out annoyed.

“Give me a run down of the case again?” Dean asks Sam. Sam opens his notebook and skims over the details for Dean.

“Uh, women in their late 20’s are going missing off the subway. Usually y/h/c, y/e/c…” Sam swallows when he realizes who the description reminds him of.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re positive?”

“I sure as hell wish I wasn’t.”

Your nose and cheeks are flushed a bright red by the time you get to the subway. Your hair blows against your face harshly as the train wizzes past, the crowds of people around you all pushing to get to where they’re going.

You used to feel overwhelmed in the subway, all the people and the constant rush of the train, but now you can positively say you’re an expert at navigating the underground station.

You push your hair behind you ear to prevent it from blowing in your face again, and out of the corner of your eye your positive you see someone eerily similar. Your head snaps in the direction, but instead of seeing him, you see no one. Suddenly your aware of how quickly the station has emptied. Leaving you and and just a few others.

You rub your eyes and try to ignore the fact that you’re starting to see things. You hadn’t done something like that in months- it must’ve been that memory from earlier.

Before you can think too much about it though, your subway arrives and the doors are opened. A cascade of people in all sorts of attire step out, and you push your way past them and step in.

Very few people are on your cart, with only a young couple sitting a few seats down from you. You try to assure yourself and assume it’s because of the late hour, but no… that wouldn’t be right, would it? It’s rush hour.

A sinking feeling in your stomach starts as you begin to put some of the pieces together.

Something paranormal had to be happening. Or were you just being paranoid?

You had hunted for just as long as Dean, your parents raising you just as Deans father had raised his boys. You knew the signs, but there was no way that’s what was happening here right?

The train stops once more and the couple gets off, and now you’re alone.

You take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves, you fists clenching and unclenching. You do your best to ignore the creaking of the train, or the way the lights begin to flicker.

A rotten smell fills your nose, and your now absolutely positive that something not natural is happening.

You reach into your purse to see if there’s anything at all that could help you, but stupidly you’d thrown out any and all weapons except for some pepper spray back when you’d first moved.

The air around you starts to feel suffocating as a black smoke begins to seep through the vents and any cracks it can, your eyes go wide as you start to panic.

The only thing you can think to do is chant an ancient protection spell under your breath, hoping that would drive the thing off at least for a second.

The smoke eventually meets in the middle, coming together to form a shadow of a man. There’s no definitive features- just dark, black, smoke.

It turns it’s head to stare straight at you, and you quickly bolt for an emergency stop or a door or- or anything really.

The smoke stretches it’s arms though, it wraps itself around your body like a snake as it engulfs all your senses. It goes into your nose and covers your eyes until all you can see is black. You begin to panic swatting and punching at what feels like an invisible force.

Suddenly- the blackness is lifted. You begin to stumble and almost fall, but someone is there to catch you.

You know who it is before you even turn around. You had dreamed about being held by these arms again for months.

“Dean..” You whisper, finding your standing and slowly turning to face him.

“It’s me, baby.”

“So there’s some entity that’s coming after women who look like me?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs. Sam and Dean had filled you in on everything that’s happened in the few months you’ve been gone. It hurts your head that you weren’t there for them when they lost their father- but there was no way you could’ve known.

Sam nods his head, “Pretty much.”

You furrow your brows, brining your hand to your lips and beginning to nibble on your nails. A nervous habit. “Do you know what it is?”

Sam shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, “No. That was the first time we’d ever saw the thing.”

You sigh, running a hand down your face, “Amazing.”

You glance at Dean. He hasn’t said much of anything since they saved you, and his silence is putting you on edge.

Sam must notice the tension between you and Dean, because he stands and leaves with a smile and an excuse of going out for some food.

Once you and Dean are left alone, things are even more awkward. You continue to take glances at him, and if he notices he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stares at the table and fiddles with his thumbs.

“Dean…” You start, finally working up the courage to break the silence, but his position doesn’t change. You take a breath, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, finally looking at you for the first time since he saved you. “Wasn’t your fault.” He mumbles.

You sigh, you feel the familiar build up of tears in your eyes and you place your head in your hands. Your hair falls around your face creating a curtain around you.

“I know that.” You sigh, “I just… I just wish I could’ve been here.”

Dean scoffs, he pushes his chair out from under him with a screech as he stands to his full height. “You could’ve been here, y/n! But you chose to leave- you chose to leave me and our relationship and for what? So- so you could be hunted by monsters?” He rambles.

You sigh, you expected this would happen, just not so soon. “Dean…” You mutter.

For the first time you see just how this last year has effected him. The usual light playfulness was no longer in his eyes, instead there’s a dark sadness you’ve never seen on him before.

“Why did you leave me?” He suddenly asks, “Was I not enough for you? Did I not- Did I not make you happy?”

You shake your head so fast you could’ve gotten whiplash, quickly, you stand next to him and attempt to reach out for him, but he pulls away.

You bite your lip, “You were everything to me. You think it was easy for me to leave? You think I don’t regret it everyday?” You sob, “I just couldn’t live like that anymore Dean! I was lonely and I was sick of constantly putting my life on the line. What’s the issue with just wanting a normal life?”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and being hunted by a demon is normal-“

“That’s not fair.” You say, “You know that’s not fair, Dean.”

Dean sighs and bites his lip, he runs a hand over his face and nods his head, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sit on the bed. “No. I’m sorry.” You say, “I should’ve… we could’ve kept in contact- or something… We didn’t have to break up. We could’ve gone long distance or-”

Dean sits down next to you and shakes his head softly, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes shine with tears, “No, we couldn’t of. There was no way we could’ve been able to stay together without seeing- feeling each other.”

“We would’ve made it work.” You mumble.

Dean sighs and rests his head in his hand, “We would’ve tried to, yeah, but… we would’ve just been hurting each other so much more.”

You sniffle and nod and pull your knees into your chest. No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. The two of you would’ve only ended up hurting each other more in the end.

Slowly, Deans arm creeps around the middle of your back as he pulls you into his chest. You welcome his touch with open arms. The smell of pine cones and bond-fires filling your nostrils is one you’ve missed all too much. You snuggle closer in his hold, finally relaxing once you feel his arm tighten around you.

Hesitantly, you whisper, “I missed you. So much.” You say it so quietly you’re not even sure he heard you- but he did. He kisses the crown of your head and sighs out in relief.

“You have no idea.” He replies.

“You’re positive this’ll work?” You question Sam for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. Sam sighs, annoyance creeping in his tone as he replies, “Yes, i’m positive it’ll work.”

You swallow, “Okay,” You psych yourself up, “So all I gotta do is go in there and be bait?”

Sam nods, he closes his bad with a snap and throws it over his shoulder, “That’s pretty much it.”

Easy enough.

The three of you arrive at the subway station and slowly make your way down, it’s empty because of the late hour, only a few people every now and then.

Dean glances back at you every few seconds, clearly sensing the nervous energy you’re giving off. He slows his pace to match yours, letting Sam take the lead. “You don’t need to be nervous,” He says, “You’re the strongest woman I know. Plus, you’ll actually be able to protect yourself this time in case anything goes wrong.”

Your hand ghosts over the salt gun in your waistband and you reassure yourself. You groan, “I just feel a little… rusty, I guess.”

Dean chuckles, “You? Rusty? Last time I checked my girl is always on her A-game.” He says slyly.

You try to ignore the pink that begins to dust your cheeks as you shrug. The three of you walk in a comfortable silence as you get to the correct station.

Your chest fills with anxiety again, but you just roll your shoulders and push it into the back of your brain.

When the train arrives, the doors open with a swoosh and you enter. You glance back at dean as you do, reminding yourself he’ll just be in the train cart next to yours.

You sit and fiddle with your thumbs, the train cart is completely empty, which makes your anxious body feel even more uneasy. Your body rocks as the subway picks up speed, and you can’t tell if the lights are flickering like they would normally or if it’s because something else is here.

Your question is answered as the smell of something rotten begins to fill your nose, and your reaching for your gun before you can even process.

You have to remind yourself not to blow your cover, and instead take a breath, hoping the demon hadn’t noticed. The black shadow begins to creep into the cart just as it had before, and you mentally prepare yourself for whatever is about to happen.

The creature meets together to form a smokey figure of a man, just as it had before. The man walks towards you, and this time you really reach for your gun.

The man continues to creep closer just as Dean and Sam burst through the doors. Sam begins to chant some kind of prayer at the demon while Dean attempts to shoot at it.

The demon seems to have expected this though, because he continues to get closer to you until you’re eventually face to face.

“De-” You begin, but stop as the demon begins to fill your senses. It enters your nose and mouth, effectively choking you. You fight against it but it’s no use, your hands can’t even touch it.

Your vision goes black, and the last thing you see if Dean reaching for you before you pass out.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” Your vision is foggy as you open your eyes. You can’t make out the man in front of you, but you recognize his voice.

“Dean…?” You whimper out, your voice hoarse. You feel something wet hit your cheek as dean laughs and holds you closer to his chest.

“Yeah baby, it’s me. Thought I- thought I lost you for a second there.” He sniffles out.

You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him to your mouth. Dean ignores his shock and quickly accepts your advances. He kisses you sweet and slow, effectively showing you just how much he’s missed you and your touch these past few months.

When you pull away your met with his smiling face.

“You’ll never lose me,” You whisper, “Never again.”

𐬺 ➾ 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭!

tag list - @fictional-characters-i-love-them

[hyunpic]

list of songs hyunjin has played on his lives/recommended:

note: im probably missing some & i couldn’t put links to all of them cause apparently tumblr has a link limit 🤨

lauv: julia, lonely eyes, invisible things, paris in the rain, never not, im so tired, the story never ends, i like me better

offonff: photograph, cigarette (ft. miso & tablo), dance, bath

beyoncé: crazy in love (remix)

billie eilish: i love you, &burn, idontwannabeyouanymore, ocean eyes, before i go, tv

honne: day1, la la la that’s how it goes

christina perri: a thousand years

shawn mendes: mercy, treat you better, in my blood

dvwn: phobia

dpr live: jam & butterfly

jehwi: dear moon

leehi: rose

bts: dna, waste it on me, make it right

colde: where love begins, string (ft. sunwoojunga), the museum, wa-r-r, your dog loves you (ft. crush), control me, a song nobody knows, im in love

got7: miracle, hard carry

justin bieber: lonely

josef salvat: call on me

taemin: criminal

night off: sleep

sam kim: make up (ft. crush), like a fool, sunny days summer nights

niki: lowkey

iu: the visitor, lullaby, knees, love poem, give you my heart, my sea

cha ni: starlight

sia: snowman

akmu: happening

sunwoojunga: run with me

the black skirts: everything

korea cracker: ocean (ft. hoyeon kim)

cosmic boy: can i love?

penomeco: no.5 (ft. crush)

yerin baek: blooming memories, limit

10cm: so…., however

day6: i’ll try, love me or leave me, when you love someone, you were beautiful, congratulations, zombie, days gone by, afraid

dean: d (half moon), instagram, what 2 do, bonnie & clyde

exo: first snow, the eve, love shot

sam fischer: this city

jukjae: do you want to walk with me?, lullaby

ph-1: nerdy love (ft. yerin baek), as i told you

baekhyun: love again, un village

amine: blackjack

young k: come as you are, guard you

flume: say it (ft. tove lo)

twice: dance the night away, fancy

ariana grande: thank u, next

hajin: we all lie

about: it has to be you

caroline says: winter is cold

h.e.r: u, wait for it

bol4: to my youth

monday kiz: winter is as i wished

paul kim: the road, additional

sweden laundry: the winter

jung seung hwan: in that winter

chungha: gotta go

zion.t: no make up, snow

airman: gloomy star, i’ll be your spring (ft. j_ust)

motte: dont run away

seventeen: a-teen, super

khalid: location

lukas graham: 7 years

imagine dragons: believer

bo kyung kim: dont think you are alone

jung ilhoon: spoiler (ft. babylon)

davichi: falling in love, 이 사랑

coldplay: everglow, viva la vida

lyn: my destiny

jus2: focus on me, long black, senses (jpn version)

crush: beautiful, you and i

ed sheeran: lego house, perfect, photograph, beautiful people

croosh: why

20 years of age: x

tori kelly: paper hearts

seulgi: always

luna: do you love me? (ft. george)

wisue: someone’s shining

epik high: eternal sunshine

jp saxe: if the world was ending

seori: fairy tale

bruno mars: marry you

the weeknd: earned it, die for you

jung seunghwan: its raining, an ordinary day, dear

sam tinnesz: play with fire

post malone: motley crew

jihyo: stardust love song

kim feel: your voice

sung sikyung: solar system, heejae

younha: stardust

wonpil: a journey

taeyeon: invu, some nights, toddler, drawing our moments

nct dream: boom

ha hyunsang: 3108

huhgak: memory of your scent

se so neon: nan chun, a long dream, midnight train, stranger

umi: remember me

tvxq!: mirotic

johnny balik: honey

red velvet: psycho

new jeans: hype boy

christian kuria: losing you

cigarettes after sex: k. , each time you fall in love, sunsetz, apocalypse

dpr ian: nerves, no blueberries, 1 shot

samm henshaw: broke

woodz: drowning

kelly clarkson: underneath the tree

kimmuseum: to you who cant sleep

taylor swift: betty

lana del rey: young and beautiful

harry styles: watermelon sugar, she

pink sweat$: honesty

masego: tadow

olivia rodrigo: vampire

troye sivan: youth, for him

kai: mmmh

2pm: my house

oasis: wonderwall, hey now

mac miller: that’s on me, everybody

nothing but thieves: amsterdam

bren joy: sweet

back number: i love you

mac ayres: next to you, roses

daniel caesar: blessed, ocho rios, get you (ft. kali uchis), take me away (ft. syd), do you like me?, disillusioned

green day: dilemma

puma blue: already falling

bruno major: nothing, easily, places we won’t walk, the most beautiful thing, old soul

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 11: Enemies to Lovers

Bad Education | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,061 Main Tags/Warnings: Buttler!Castiel, CEO!Dean, enemies to lovers, boss/employee relationship, character development, comedy Summary: When a multimillionaire grandfather wants to give his grandson Dean Winchester a lesson, he will search for a desperate method by hiring Dean's worst nightmare to be his butler. Will the charismatic Castiel be able to educate the most egocentric, selfish and rebellious rich dude and turn him into a perfect CEO? Or will they kill each other before that happens?

Better Than You | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 21,950 Main Tags/Warnings: Light internalized homophobia, office au, coming out, rivals to lovers, childhood friends, fluff, angst, happy ending Summary: Dean has many goals in his life, but there's just one that bothers him to death: to defeat the perfect Castiel Novak at any cost. This is a self-discovering journey, in which Dean will try his best to win against Castiel and not to fall in love with him in the meantime.

Maybe not a comedy (according to Jack), but he likes the happy ending | @seidenapfel Rating: Mature Word Count: 67,602 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canon-Typical Violence, Angels, Demons, Angel Wings, Hell, Purgatory, Heaven, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mention of Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, possible Meg Masters/Charlie Bradbury, Additional Warnings In Author's Note Summary: Dean Winchester is dead. He died ten years ago, when he sold his soul to Demon Corp in order to save his brother’s life. He has lost everything, even his dignity. All that is left is a brutal tool to torture other lost souls on Inferno just like himself. Castiel’s orders are simple. Free one random soul from the pit on Inferno in order to bring it back to Angelus Associations’ headquarters on Paradiso. No one expects him to be successful, but, as a soldier, he never questions his orders. The moment Castiel lays eyes on the human overseer, everything changes. Castiel has found his mission, the man he needs to save. An adventure begins that takes Dean and Castiel from planet to planet, from Inferno to Purgatorio to Paradiso, and beyond. It’s a journey to find themselves and each other.

Vampirenatural: The Rebellion - Rogue | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 225,822 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, World of Darkness, Human Dean Winchester, Detective Dean Winchester, Vampire Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Smut, Gallows Humor, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Human/Vampire Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, sickness and injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Kiiiind of Mafia, Kiiiind of Murder Husbands, Russian Castiel (Supernatural), Implied/Referenced Suicide, non-consensual biting, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Acts of War Summary: From clubs to underground caverns, seedy motels, haunted hotels and exclusive mansions, Los Angeles has it all. It's a place for the pretty and the hopeful, but beneath its star-spangled façade are shadowy corners harbouring the vagrant and the vagabond alike. It's a world of corruption, sex and violence, Detective Dean Winchester has learnt to navigate with ease. Eight years at Santa Monica PD could never have prepared him for the underbelly of this so-called City of Angels though. Dean knows the shadows, he knows them intimately, but is he prepared for the World of Darkness?

[hunterevie]

Some of my main stories with links on ao3 for anybody interested, summaries included. These are all Destiel fics.

This will be pinned and updated over time.

1. The Neighbours series

Ongoing AU series following the lives of Cas and Dean from when they first became neighbours. Exploring their relationship as they fall in love, start dating, move in together and beyond.

The series will span their lives over approximately a 23 year period.

Rating - Explicit

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/series/3630712

2 - Cas, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

Inspired by the episode the French Mistake. Sam, Dean and Cas wake up in our universe. Confronted by an unusual situation. A convention on a cruise ship.

They need to try and work together to figure out a way home. Or potentially be stuck here forever.

Rating - Explicit

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/51989266/chapters/131470918

3 - Cas and Deans (non) threesome

After a hunt nearly goes wrong, Dean and Castiel book into a lavish 5 star hotel with an enormous bed, big enough for 3 or 4 people. When he sees the bed Dean makes a joke about how perfect it would be for a threesome. Still highly strung from the hunt Cas’s possessive streak kicks in and he decides to give his husband a taste of why they only need each other in the bedroom.

Rating - Explicit

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/45271099

4 - Domesticity

A series of short one shots where Castiel tries to navigate the world as an angelic husband. Getting himself involved in some very unusual situations

Rating - Teen

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/series/3481423

5 - Worst Kept Secret

A one shot fix it fic where Cas and Dean are in the beginnings of their relationship and are trying to keep it a secret.

Unfortunately they’re just really bad at it.

Rating - Explicit

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/51175852

6 - Leave your inhibitions at the door

Endverse Dean and Endverse Cas finally give in to their temptations and have sex before their final showdown with Lucifer. Before they head off to leave, Endverse Dean tells Dean to take the plunge and admit his feelings for the Angel.

Will he have the courage to do it when he gets back to his reality?

Rating - Explicit

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/47587000/chapters/119933602#workskin

7 - Cas’s social media journey

A series of one shots that chronicles Cas’s journey on social media since coming back from the empty. Inspired by Misha Collins.

Rating - From General to Explicit

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/series/3341727

8 - Love Lost

A one shot set after the series finale. Dean does everything he can to try and save Cas from the empty. With every failure his mind starts to break and he falls into a deep depression. And his desperation to see his angel again leads him to an extreme action.

Warning - I tend to write cute and fluffy Destiel fics with mild angst but this is extreme angst. TW - including alcoholism, attempted suicide, mental health issues. That being said, the ending is absolutely adorable and it’s worth it.

Rating - Explicit (for violence, not smut).

Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/44865115/chapters/112884340

[hawkland]

Art Masterpost: The Beginning Story by emmbrancsxx0 (@valleydean) Art by sidewinder (@hawkland)

When I saw an endverse story up for claims in this year's @deancashorrorfest — particularly one exploring the beginnings of how it all came to be — I knew I had to get my grubby, greedy hands on it. When I found out it was written by none other than @valleydean, I may have made some hqppy screeching noises to rival Castiel's true voice. Getting to do art for one of my favorite writers is always exciting, if sometimes anxiety-inducing, but I ended up having an absolute blast working on these with Mallory and am really happy with how they turned out. Thank you for being such an amazing partner to work with, and I'm so excited for everyone else getting to read the story now!

Thank you as well to @kingdumbass for organizing Horrorfest once again, and creating one of my favorite little Destiel communities on the net. It's always a ton of fun and I love how you keep the server going & engaging year round.

Some rambling comments on the art & my process below the cut.

As usual these were all done in watercolor with a little bit of black & white acrylic pen work for fine details and lines. I used rough/cold press paper for all of these to keep a consistent feeling and because it's always my favorite for doing any portraits and where I want a lot of blending control.

The hardest thing for me was deciding which of the many memorable scenes and moments I wanted to illustrate in the time I had available. I had a pretty clear vision for the title art early on: to show Dean & Cas at the beginning of it all, with a collage of elements of destruction behind them and doing the title text in the "Croatoan graffiti" style. There were a bunch of different reference shots combined for that one: screencaps from 5x04, a later-season shot of Dean & Cas walking together to get their positions how I wanted, etc. My Cas "face" reference was actually from Stonehenge Apocalypse as I wanted him looking a little more human/hopeful than standard s4-5 Cas as he's pretty low on grace but still has a little "angel mojo" left.

(As Mallory commented when I shared it as a WIP, "That's a man who's about to be destroyed!" :D D:)

I'm also really glad I was able to get the painting to Mallory at DC-Con! You can see in the pic that it's pretty big (16"x20") to get all that detail in!

For the next piece, there's a small scene of Dean and Cas on the road under smoke-filled skies, past a "God Saves" billboard that just struck me. I'd just driven out to Pittsburgh and back on the PA Turnpike so used some quick reference snaps I took combined with photos of the hazy skies from the Canadian wildfires earlier this year to get the atmosphere I wanted. I tried to keep some of the same washed-out colors and feeling of the title piece for that, save the color of the sky.

For the rest, I wanted to do one piece each of Cas and Dean at critical moments in their journey through the story. Cas facing himself in the shattered glass of a pharmacy cabinet was a moment I knew I had to try to capture. It reminded me of that amazing shot of Misha in Gotham Knights, with Harvey and the smashed mirror, so that was definitely in my mind as a visual reference.

Cas himself is a combination of some Purgatory screencaps and some out-of-character Misha pics from here and there to get his hair the way I wanted it to look (even if I ended up painting over most of it with interference silver watercolor to create the effect of the shattered glass. Here's an in-progress look:

The Dean rooftop piece is one I'd had in my head as soon as I read the passage in the story, but it was the last piece I tackled. The city in flames behind Dean was pretty much done in one shot as a spontaneous wet-in-wet wash...though it was a little eerie and unsettling working on it this past week with current events playing out on the tv while I painted.

Finally, I really wanted to do a piece showing Dean and Cas as they are near the end of the story compared to how they started out. This one came together in a really fast burst of inspiration - I think one day drawing and two days painting because it's smaller than the others (12"x6") and I wanted it to be really close up and intimate. Drawing:

Poor boys have been through a lot. And it's only going to get worse )-:

Anyway, that's more than enough from me. Have you gone to start reading the story yet? If not, go there now! Bookmark! Read! Leave lots of love in the comments! Reblog and check out the rest of this year's Horrorfest collection while you're there!

[bettsfic]

18 and 19

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

passage below the cut! this is from Skinless when Layla and Henry meet. by this point we've mostly been in Henry's POV, where his coworker Layla seems like a nice young woman with whom he is foaming-at-the-mouth obsessed. we get to her POV (second person because that's just how she thinks, and also this is a flashback because her pacing and story structure is entirely separate from Henry's because i hate myself i guess) and find out she's been totally deranged for Henry from the beginning. this is the first time we see Henry from outside his POV.

backstory:

the career fair scene went through many iterations but has become an unfortunate foundational turning point of the story, despite the fact that a commercial underwriting department of a bank would never be at a college career fair

i did once research every question of every exam for a class where i thought the professor was being cruel. i also went to the dean about it, and there was an investigation, and every single student in the class went from a C to a B. (that's how bad it was: we all had the same grade, based on basically nothing, which was deeply ironic considering it was a statistics class)

like Layla, i've also had the Kids in the Hall theme song stuck in my head for most of my life

ultimately Skinless is a light-hearted rom com about two walking red flags who are trying to make their relationship work even though one of them is not who he says he is and the other is plotting a murder

the ethics test at the bank was really only 10 questions

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

the first thing i ever wrote was a series of stories in my diary when i was 8 or 9, and they all had the same premise in different settings: a child lives in a community but everyone hates him (they were always boy povs) and eventually the child runs away or is killed by the townspeople and everyone is much happier with him gone. the end.

a wrote a bit more here and there until i was 14 or so, at which point i seemed to forget writing fiction was even a thing. i kept a journal from 14 onward and that was the only creative writing i did besides the occasional poem until i was 24 and started writing fanfic.

i'm now 34 and i have an MFA in creative writing and half a PhD, and i've had some short publications and won some awards and i do artist residencies sometimes and have an agent. i'm hoping to put two manuscripts out on submission later this year or early next.

one of which will be Skinless, an excerpt of which is below the cut.

from Chapter 5:

In your final semester of college, you attend a career fair. As you wander the booths, you begin to consider that there might be industries more suited to people like you. You spot a bank. The man standing at the booth is talking to someone. You notice immediately that his congeniality is feigned, proven when the applicant walks away and his face returns to apathy. 

He is wearing a sharp black suit. Black dress shirt. Black tie. He is in his late twenties, perhaps. He has light brown skin and his hair is buzzed close to his scalp in a way that makes you eager to touch his head, feel it against your palm. He is tall and broad-shouldered, but he holds himself like he isn’t, slightly slouched, the way people stand in public transit to give others more room.

Something about him piques your curiosity, and as you walk toward him the small spark of your initial question mark grows into something that consumes you. You can’t even tell what exactly is drawing you to him. It’s not his beauty—although, aesthetically speaking, he is quite pleasing. It’s not his attire, though it’s strange to see a businessman in all black. It’s not the bored blankness of his face that reflects how you have felt these past four years pretending to be a peppy sorority girl. But it’s something, and suddenly you’re standing in front of him and handing him your resume.

He takes it and scans it. This is a bizarre interaction, this not speaking and not acknowledging each other thing, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Without even looking at you, he says, “Tell me about a time someone blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault, and what you did about it.” 

His voice doesn’t match him at all, this enormous man with this soft yet vaguely robotic voice. When you say nothing, he glances at you expectantly. You feel small and young. He doesn’t even see you. You are just one student among the many he will speak with today. 

“Last semester I had a professor who didn’t like me so he tried to give me a B,” you tell him. “I guess because I kept finding errors in our exams and proving it by cross-referencing the textbook. And it was outdated, so even if the exam matched the book, I’d be able to find newer research that conflicted with it. In a fifty-question exam, he would have to throw out almost half the questions and everyone got a way better grade.”

“You researched every question of every exam?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“He called a girl stupid and made her cry. And anyway, it’s not really ethical to be teaching outdated research.”

“So you—”

“Got him fired.”

“Fired? Really?”

Not exactly. He just didn’t get assigned any sections the following semester. You shrug. “Adjuncts are expendable.”

“And you don’t consider any of that underhanded?”

“I’d rather be underhanded than complaisant.”

Briefly he looks you dead in the eye. It ignites something in you like a match being struck. All the stupid princess movies you hated growing up and which Candy still makes you watch are right: love at first sight is real, and it happened to you, the person least qualified to do anything about it.

When Angie from the bank’s HR department calls you to schedule a formal interview, you begin your preparations. You buy an interview outfit. You ask Candy to teach you how to do your makeup and hair. Then you study. Common interview questions. How to answer them. What the fuck underwriting is. 

You arrive at the bank certain that the beautiful career fair man won’t be there, but he’s the one who greets you in the lobby. He’s once more wearing all black.

“Hi, Layla, good to see you again.” He holds out his hand to you. “Henry King.”

“Henry King,” you say back, awed as you shake his big, beautiful hand and look into his big, beautiful eyes. You’re going to be Layla King one day. You promise yourself you won’t go home and practice your future signature, because that would be ridiculous. 

Now you are in an elevator with Henry King, going all the way up to the thirtieth floor. He opens his mouth to pop his ears at floor sixteen. 

“Mr. King?” You wait for him to say, Call me Henry, but he doesn’t. “Do you have any tips for me?”

“Wouldn’t that give you an unfair advantage?”

“Don’t you want me to have an unfair advantage?”

He looks down and away, scratches his head, and even though he’s not smiling you get the impression he’s pleased. “As long as you don’t admit to being a psychopath, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I would never admit that.”

The elevator doors open and he holds them for you to step out first. “Just be honest,” he says, “and be yourself.”

When you arrive on your first day, Henry King is waiting for you in the lobby again, and he’s still not smiling but there is something in his eyes that tells you he’s glad to see you. He holds out his hand and says, “Congratulations.”

You won’t be shaking Henry King’s hand. You hug him and he goes oof. Tentatively he pats your back. When you pull away, you say, “Thank you for getting me the job. It really means a lot to me.”

He seems to be short-circuiting, like you have suddenly initiated improv in a well-rehearsed play. It’s fine. You have the job now, and after all, he did tell you to be yourself.

During your training, you’re required to read the corporate ethics guide and take a ten-question test. The questions are so obvious that you don’t really have to read the guide. In fact, you only need an eight out of ten to pass—which has frightening implications for the state of ethics here—but you read it like you’re studying for the MCAT. 

The section on dating in the workplace is a single paragraph. Should two employees engage in a romantic relationship, it says, it must be reported to HR. It also says that a manager dating a direct subordinate is grounds for termination.

You hail Henry over to your computer and show him the company policy on dating. Any other person would see how obvious you’re being. Not Henry. Henry says, “The ethics guide is a CYA document.” 

He uses that acronym a lot. It means Cover Your Ass. More specifically, it means to analyze all documentation from the perspective of the documenting party, whose goal is, above all things, to avoid a lawsuit. And in the event of a lawsuit, to avoid losing it.

“Look,” he says, pointing at your monitor, bent over your shoulder as you sit in your desk chair, so close you can smell him. He smells so good it makes you angry. “It says you have to report it. It doesn’t say what happens after you report it. That means the decision moves to the manager of the employees in a relationship. Then HR can wipe their hands clean of it, and the manager can fire both employees, citing that a potential breakup would create a hostile team environment.” He points to the next sentence about managers and subordinates. “It says ‘eligible for termination,’ but it doesn’t say who gets terminated. Again, probably both.”

You look up at him. “So we really can’t date?” 

Given his lack of a reaction, he seems to take your “we” to mean all employees of the company.

“It’s unprofessional.”

 

Every day the stakes grow higher. You study Henry, in part, thinking that if you dig deep enough you will find nothing, you will discover he is like all the rest, boring, bearing the sad burden of existence and merely passing the time until death. Watching television. Picking up a hobby. Sports. Disgusting.

You decide that you must first befriend Henry King. You have learned that people like talking about themselves, and for the most part they love being asked questions, because it is the status quo in the world to be self-interested. For all your faults, at least you are not self-interested. You’re very interested in others, and you’re so glad to be able to see this, in some ways, as a strength. You are at once perfect at everything but also somehow have no admirable qualities. You ask Henry King many questions and he tells you, simply, “I’m not answering that.”

You take a different tactic: you tell him about yourself. You try to be interesting. The cool stuff you learned in the classes you took, the drama of Candy’s vocational school love life. He listens and goes “uh huh.”

Next, you try to make him laugh. You are a funny person simply because, like all things, you’ve trained yourself to be. You have watched many hours of standup comedy and sketch shows. You’ve had the Kids in the Hall theme song stuck in your head for most of your life. 

One day, you’re busy looking at a client file while returning to your desk and run into the cubicle wall. Henry King laughs at you. That’s a start. 

After many months being his personal court jester, you conclude that Henry King exists in the infinitesimal Venn diagram overlap between having a dry sense of humor and being totally unable to understand sarcasm.

You’ve been looking forward to your first annual review, seeing evidence of your excellence. You’ve spent this past year learning quickly, working hard. You work through lunch sometimes. You arrive early and stay late. You take on as many deals as you can, some weeks more than Henry. You make sure everyone on the team gets a card and a cake for their birthday. Finally, you enter Jerry’s office with a notebook and a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, you return to your cubicle with a single sheet of paper marking you adequate. In every category, you “meet expectations.” No raise. No bonus. No promotion. 

Henry has a bad habit of offering hard truths in a way that is not at all gentle. “Look,” he says when you slump down into your desk chair. When he begins a sentence with “look,” you know you’re about to hear something horrible. “You’ll never get an A at work.”

He goes on to tell you the worst of all truths—that banks thrive on inefficiency and hard work is rewarded with only more work. And if you do too much work, employees will start to get fired, because it’s clear the workload isn’t high enough to justify paying so many people. You’ll also set a new standard for yourself, and if you set that standard too high, if you burn out and stop meeting it, you’re the one who’s going to get fired. The only reward you’ll ever receive is the privilege of returning to work the next day. 

To prove it, he pulls a manila folder out of his desk cabinet and hands it to you. You open it. Inside you find eleven identical sheets, each one declaring Henry has met expectations for the year, each signed off by the revolving door of bookrunners.

He’s the hardest worker you’ve ever known. You have a crush on him, sure, but even if you didn’t, you would still admire him. He’s diligent and patient, level-headed. He’s at least as smart as you, if not more. In every way, Henry King has exceeded your expectations. 

After work that day, you cry in your car. You haven’t cried since the time you watched Lacey torture a squirrel, and you witness it with interest and confusion. You’re not crying; crying is happening to you. Henry passes your car on the way to his. He pretends not to notice.

The next day, he asks you to lunch. You tell him no thanks. He does what you do: leans on your desk and stares at you for so long that you can’t ignore him, which is actually super annoying. You can’t believe he tolerates you. And since you’ve never taken no for an answer, neither does he. 

“I’ll pick you up and carry you out of here,” he says, nudging your shoulder. You’re always touching him but this is the first time he has touched you. Your face feels very hot.

You enjoy the thought of him picking you up and carrying you. You like how big and strong he is, even though he doesn’t seem to know that about himself, like a giant dog that thinks it can sleep in your lap without crushing you. 

He might be flirting with you. You’ve never actually been flirted with. You go to the copier to get your printouts. They’re still printing. Suddenly you’re swept up into his arms. You yelp.

“Put me down,” you say.

“Not until you agree to go to lunch with me.”

He holds you like you’re no heavier than a big client file. You know you’ll get in trouble if anyone sees you, but everyone’s at lunch. He takes you to the elevators. 

“Okay, okay,” you say. “We’ll get pizza.”

At lunch, in a roundabout, somewhat evasive way, he tells you what a good job you’ve been doing and that he appreciates your hard work. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, choking up but refusing to cry in front of him. “I really look up to you, so that means a lot.”

A silence follows that would be awkward to anyone else, but you understand that Henry needs these occasional pauses. For him, silence is not something that stretches across time but must be carved into it. He makes spaces for feeling, for thinking, for simply being in the company of someone else. 

These traits make your crush grow to unwieldy proportions, but after a year of trying to get his attention, you’re still just a plucky young apprentice to him. You don’t know anything about him. You’re close to giving up and you’re shocked by how badly that hurts. A boy you like doesn't like you. Your broken-heartedness is so clichéd, so conventional, so boring, and yet it’s the worst thing you’ve ever felt. 

One day, you tell Henry a story about a high school friend, nameless, and he says, “Wait, is this Michelle or someone else?” 

You stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk. He listens. He’s been listening.

“Yes,” you say, “it’s Michelle.”

Another time, waiting for a table at lunch, you accidentally stand in the path of someone making their way to the host station. Henry puts a hand on your lower back and guides you closer to him, out of the way. 

Every once in a while, he plucks stray hairs that cling to your wool coat.

A new thing begins to grow, so nebulous and strange you don’t at first allow yourself to acknowledge it. Over time, it becomes too big to ignore, and finally you look right at it: 

You love Henry King. 

You no longer just want his attention, you want him to touch you, curl up on the couch with you and watch TV each night, have children with you, grow old and die with you. It’s disorienting to know something in your head immediately but not actually feel it until a year later. You wonder what other things you have only thought but not felt. You wonder how long you have confused thinking for feeling.