dean changes his posture and the way he was acting completely

Sam Winchester is one of the most multi-layered character I’ve ever seen on TV and that’s what makes him so interesting and loveable. 

There are so many things to say about Sam, he brings out a lot of emotions from the audience. It would be too long to write about all the traits that make Sam who he is, whether it be his intelligence or his compassion or his sarcastic remarks. That’s why I will focus on one particularity that, to me, express at best the Sam I love and cherish and that’s the fact that Sam Winchester is a hero, a tragic but magnificent one.

Even if life isn’t remotely fair with him he goes through it without ever losing his hope or his optimism. This attitude saved the day a lot of time. Even when everyone gives up, to the last minute he’ll try and double his efforts. He never gives up on anyone, he’s always trying to save the most people possible. The only one he’s willing to give up on is himself and that’s heartbreaking.

Sam presents a lot of the tragic Greek hero’s archetypes. According to Aristotle a hero isn’t entirely good or bad ; he is deeply conflicted. He’s in search of his true identity and his true purpose while being subjected to misfortune and suffering, not because of an evil nature but because of mistakes he made knowingly or not. Sam has always been conflicted - from a young age as we learn in The Great Escapist - he never felt like he really fitted, believing he wasn’t pure and even seeing himself as not completely human, a freak. All his life he tried to extract himself from what he has been raised into, but he came to realize that whichever path he was going to, this life would always follow him.

Nevertheless, Sam constantly tries to understand the one around him, he will put himself in their shoes and search the true purpose of their actions, never judging their motivation. Especially with the one he loves, his mother being a great example from last season but with Dean also since the start. He empathizes not only with the families and the victims but with the supernatural beings who aren’t aware of what they’re doing or try but can’t change their condition (like Madison in Heart, Molly the ghost in Roadkill, Lenore in Bloodlust, Magda in American Nightmare…). It’s admirable and even if it is sometime seen as weakness by others it isn’t, far from it. To remain human enough to see the good in everyone is one of Sam’s biggest strengths.

His most impressive quality must be his forgiveness. He forgives even those who hurt him, sometime multiple times. Maybe it’s because he believes that if even him can be forgiven everyone must be, in the self-depreciating way he thinks of himself. Or it’s because often he wasn’t forgiven easily and he knows how it feels intimately. Sam is always so prompt to forgive others that he forgets to forgive himself. “There are people out there, good people, who are going to suffer because of me.” (Form and Void)

Furthermore, the tragic hero is contradictory, he’s a part of the action but at the same time he is subjected to it. He is guilty and yet innocent, lucid but blind. While he thinks he’s acting with foresight and independence, in fact it’s only later that he understands he was only a pawn in the Gods’ game and the true meaning of his actions is reveal to him. Indeed, Sam really thought he was doing the right thing pursuing Lilith’s death and at the time he was right thinking so. After all, everybody wanted to kill her(Dean and Bobby were more than willing too), even if by doing so he ultimately would be sacrificing himself. It’s only later that he (with everyone else) understand that he was being played by Heaven and Hell who were working alongside. The moment he understand he had sacrificed everything, his relation with his brother being the most important for him, all for the exact opposite of what he was fighting for, is the moment he breaks. After that instant he clearly isn’t the same anymore as he starts a kind of penance to redeem himself.

As a consequence, what makes Sam interesting is that he is fallible, he has to overcome his doubts, his mistakes and his culpability (real or felt). It’s his imperfection and his idiosyncrasies that make him real and appealing. A perfect hero is impossible for the audience to relate to and serve the purpose badly. Sam knows his flaws and he is probably the one who evolved the most during those twelve seasons and as a result he’s continuously trying to improve himself.

In addition, a hero is willing to sacrifice his needs, even his life for the good of others. He also has contradictory qualities and motivations and he will learn from his woes and draw a certain wisdom from them. He knows his quest implies danger, loses or even death, but ultimately he accepts the possibility sometimes even welcoming it, as Sam did so many times.

And his sacrifice is what distinguishes him from the others. He faces a dilemma and his death is a way to transcend it by offering is life for the greater good.  Sam saved the world by directly and purposely throwing himself to an eternity of suffering impossible to even start to understand. But he did it willingly for the sake of the world and for his brother, never thinking of what would happen to him. What is even more tragic is that his reward was only more sufferings.

There is so much more I’d like to say about Sam Winchester to explain why I admire him so much but all of the above is enough to start to comprehend the extent of Sam Winchester. He’s such an inspiration for so many people, after everything he’s been through he would have earn the right to be bitter and resentful but he still has a golden heart, empathy, hope, kindness and compassion. He is sometimes misunderstood, his actions are held against him but to me it only reinforces the heroism of his nature. I loved him every step of the way since I watched the pilot. I loved him during times where he didn’t love himself and was at his lowest (Sacrifice was so painful) and during times where he had no idea who he was anymore.

If I could wish something for Sam it would be to see himself as I see him ; a truly good-hearted person who deserves to be loved, understood, listen to and appreciated just as he is.

At last, I want to thank you Mr. Padalecki for bringing such an amazing character to life, for making him what he is and for being his biggest advocate, for still being passionate about what you do, particularly because it causes you great personal sacrifices. 

Your portrayal of Sam is so nuanced and deep it’s remarkable, you even give him a voice when the narrative doesn’t with subtle expressions or postures. Sam certainly would not be as he is if it wasn’t for you.

And as cheesy as it must sound thank you for being the real life hero Sam would be proud of, it means a lot and it only makes me prouder for loving Supernatural and Sam Winchester.

(by icyaslack)

Sastiel Love Week Day 4 - Angst

The rain fell in sheets, soaking Sam as he sat on the bank of the river watching the turbulent water swirl around.  Not all of the shaking was from being cold, though.  The rustle of wings caught his attention, even above the noise of the rain, and he looked up at Castiel in confusion.  “Dean’s not here, he’s at some bar, unless he’s already found a girl to go off with.”

“Then it seems likely pointless for me to go to him,” Castiel said.  He looked curiously at Sam.  “Why are you sitting in the rain?”

Sam tried to come up with any kind of lie that would be even remotely plausible. 

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Don’t You Remember (All I Ask part 3)

 Characters: Dean X Reader

Summary: You knew Dean many years ago during high school. Suddenly, he shows up when you least expect it.

All I Ask (part one) When We Were Young (All I Ask part 2)

Here we are! Part three of All I Ask. My brief hiatus from Tumblr prevented me from posting it for so long. I hope you like it <3 

Tagging (if I tag you and you don’t want to be tagged, let me know. If I don’t tag you and you want to be tagged… well, that too): @iwantthedean @ashleymalfoy @daydreamingintheimpala @kbrand0 @deandoesthingstome @growleytria @jackburtonsays @jojomonsterbunni @growningupgeek @driverpicksthemuusic @d-s-winchester @iwriteshortstuff

**gifs are not mine

Originally posted by strengthcas

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A/N: I loved this request so thank you to whoever sent it. Also I maybe wrote this at 4am so any typos are due to me being half dead.
Request: I love your blog! I was wondering, could you do a oneshot where the reader and the boys are watching TV, and the reader has a huge fluffy blanket over her, and a really smutty part comes on tv and gets the reader horny so she starts to “explore” herself under the blanket and gets caught by dean, so he gets under the blanket as well and helps. During this Sam is completely oblivious? So sorry that it’s super long!!
Word count: 797
Warnings: Smut, mentions of porn, masturbation(ish)

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We Were Born to Die

Imagine Sam and Dean realizing you have an amazing voice for the first time.

Author’s Note: Reader request! It’s centered on Dean x reader. Dean is amazed by your voice when you sing undercover on a hunt. My first try at a Dean POV! Kind of short but if you like it I can continue it in a part 2 (: Let me know! Song is Born to Die by Lana Del Rey if you want to listen and read.

My heart was beating too fast and I found myself leaning on the wall for support. I examined my shaking hands in disbelief. How could a hunter be this afraid of something?

“Hey, you’ll be great.” A soothing voice broke my thoughts. ”It’s just first day jitters, we all get them.” I turned to the woman at my side and gave a little nod. Her blonde hair was done up and curled, displaying the long silver earrings that brushed her bare shoulders. She was stunning in her floor-length dress, but her smile still stood out more than anything else. The compassion in her eyes calmed me.

“Just get out there and let the music take you somewhere else. Those people just want to hear a song, not your secrets.” When she spoke it seemed so simple, even though my nervous pacing begged to differ. I never thought hunting with Sam and Dean would get me here, singing the opening song for a posh club. I wiped my sweaty palms on my blue sequin gown and watched the other performers fixing their makeup. One of these women was most likely the siren we had been tracking for the past week. I searched them for anything out of the ordinary, but the air was foggy with perfume and cigarette smoke. Sam told me not to confront anyone anyway, not until I found a way to get the two of them backstage. I turned my attention to the curtains between me and the whispering audience outside. I knew I had the voice for this, but I still shifted uncomfortably. If I didn’t know Dean and Sam were out there relying upon me, I’d never do it. I thought back to all the road trips in the Impala, and the way the boys would tease me if I ever sang along to Journey or Johnny Cash. They would make little jokes about my taste in music and change the song. I got so used to their banter that I never sang around them anymore. I smiled at the thought of the surprise they would have tonight. Then, the conversation from beyond the curtain ceased and a woman’s voice began welcoming everyone. I took a deep breath and stepped up to the satin drape. I patted the knife sheath on my thigh, hoping it wasn’t too visible under the tight fabric covering my legs. My breathing slowed and I gathered myself as best as I could. The better my performance, the better Sam and Dean’s chances of getting to talk to the other girls. I kept the thought of them teasing me in my mind and used it to block out the rest of the world as the curtains pulled away.

Dean’s POV:

“Are you sure about this?” Sam was looking around the room nervously, his jaw clenching in apprehension.

“Relax Sam, she’s just got to get out there and sing a couple bars of something, and we’re golden. Even if she sounds horrible it still gets us a chance to get backstage with the others.” I eased into my cushioned seat and sipped on the glass of bourbon in my hand. “Try to enjoy yourself.” I smiled and slapped my brother’s shoulder playfully. His stiff posture relaxed and he leaned back. The lounge area was decorated lavishly, little statues and exotic plants surrounding each booth. Thankfully our FBI garb blended in well with the upper-class couples and executives sitting around the room. 
Suddenly the lights flicked off and I instinctively reached for my sidearm, only to realize it was the cue for the crowd to hush. In the dim lighting I could better make out the curtain on the stage. An overly friendly voice from the overhead speakers broke the quiet.

“Good evening and welcome to Satin and Sirens.” Sam and I glanced at each other and I raised my eyebrows. We had been investigating several deaths nearby, all seeming to be linked to this club. It was protected by its prestige and the only way in seemed to be an inside job. “Tonight you’ll be graced with the voices of our lovely ladies. Our first is a newcomer by the name of Y/N. She comes all the way from her home in Seattle and we look forward to hearing her. Please give her the welcome she deserves.” The suits and skirts in the room erupted with applause. Slowly a circular spotlight moved over the satin curtain and I could see Y/N’s silhouette. I inhaled at the sight of her figure, nothing like the body I had seen wearing ripped pants and bloody t-shirts. Music began to play and the curtains parted gracefully.

“Do you know this song?” Sam was whispering to me but I couldn’t take the time to respond, my eyes were locked on the woman who sashayed on to the stage. Y/N looked like the femme fatal of a 1950s mob film, and I’d seen my fair share of those. Her dress sparkled as she walked slowly to the microphone, her hips swaying gently the whole time. Then she raised her face dramatically towards the crowd. “Wow, she’s really in character.” I wanted to tell Sam to shut up but my mouth was hanging open. I watched as Y/N lifted the mic towards her red lips. The entire lounge was completely silent, everyone waiting anxiously to hear her first words. The hunter I knew would be nervous, but this woman acted with sensual confidence. Just as her mouth parted slightly her eyes found us in the crowd and she sent a sly wink in our direction. Chills went up my spine at the sound of her voice.

Feet don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line.” Her voice was deep and sultry, soft as the tendrils of hair that fell around her shoulders. “Oh my heart it breaks, every step that I take.” She turned away from us all, a hand trailing down her collarbone. ”But I’m hoping at the gates, they’ll tell me that you’re mine.” Her eyes were half mast and full of passion as she stared beyond the onlookers. Sam elbowed me,

“I thought she said she didn’t sing.” I shrugged, my face still dumbfounded. I had never seen her so elegant, so feminine. I felt my cheeks redden thinking about how I usually treated her like a brother, teasing and ruffling her hair. I never knew this side of her existed, or that it was so beautiful.

Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don’t know why.” I almost felt like I was invading some intimate part of her and I shifted in my seat. The drink I had been nursing was forgotten on the table beside me.

Keep making me laugh, let’s go get high. The road is long, we carry on. Try to have fun in the meantime.” The rest of the audience was just as enthralled as I was. The reverent stillness gave her everyone’s complete attention.

Choose your last words, this is the last time” For the first time her eyes stopped on me and rested, an alluring sadness making them sparkle in the light. I knew that wasn’t part of her act, I had seen that look before. She saved it for those dire moments when one of us was seriously injured. She saved it for the “if we don’t get out of this” speeches and goodbye hugs. She paushed, her lips making a perfect little ‘o’ for a moment.

Cause you and I…” My breath got caught in my throat and I found myself paralyzed under her gaze. The corners of her eyes crinkled in an almost indiscernible grin.

We were born to die.” The music played on as she swayed slightly and smiled over the crowd, the smallest tear glistening on her cheek. I couldn’t believe how she had wrapped every single one of us around her finger. She was more dangerous than I knew. The spotlight was dimming slowly and I struggled to soak in every little feature of her before she faded into the darkness. She looked at me like we were the only ones there, her words meant for my ears alone. 

We were born to die.” The phrase echoed in the room and in my spinning mind.

Eggsy’s Body Language Meta (1/10)

Now available in one post on Ao3.

 All parts.

Okay, so this is a meta I did in response to a request from @blackmakethme for analysis of Eggsy’s body language in relation to the characters Harry, Roxy, Merlin, JB, Arthur, Gazelle, and Valentine.  Disclaimer 1: I ship Hartwin.  Like, a lot.  I tried hard to keep it out of the meta, but I’m afraid it’s seeped in and rather permeated the thing.  Especially considering that writing this actually made me ship it even harder. XD  I do think it should still have value if you don’t ship it, but I’m giving fair warning.  Disclaimer 2: I have done research on body language in the past but didn’t do any for this specifically.  This is literally just me talking about what I see and how I interpret it based on all my other thoughts about Eggsy.  Obviously, this is all my personal opinion, and people are free to agree/disagree/discuss freely. :3  Disclaimer 3: This thing is monster long, and obviously, not everything here is gonna be some golden nugget.  I did pour my heart into, though, and in the process learned a lot about how I think of Eggsy.  I like to think I said a lot of good stuff in here, even if it’s not all revolutionary.  I really hope you’ll make it to the end (but I also know that’s a big undertaking and understand if you don’t).  

Lots of gifs under the cut, so beware (roughly 20 per post).  Please enjoy.  I sold my soul to Satan for this.  XD 

Thank you very much to everyone who encouraged me during the excruciating process this became. XD I love you all.  This fandom is truly phenomenal. 

(Also, before we get started, please, if you want to use any of these gifs, credit back to me.  I have worked extremely hard on this, and the gifs alone took me probably 10-15 hours.  Thanks.)

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Who to Choose?


Request: Can you do one where Castiel and dean are both fighting for your attention and trying to impress you, and cas acts really cute and confused.

Request: Hello! Today is my birthday! (Thank gosh golly for it landing on a Monday!) Anyway. If its not too much to ask, could you do a DeanXReaderXCas and it’s the readers birthday and Dean and Cas “fight” (not actually a fight, mind you) at who gets to give her the present they got for her first. I just think that’s be super cute. Okay, thanks bye!

Request: I was wondering if you could write one about the reader (a female hunter) that can’t choose between Dean or Castiel and has both of their affections. She can end up with either Dean or Castiel or maybe she ends up alone?

A/N: There’s a bit of a selection at the end…

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sevvvy  asked:

Ah yes it's me again. So today if officially the start of my summer break and I was wondering if I could have some a/b/o writing? Pretty please? I would love to start my summer to something amazing!

Hope you have an amazing summer! Sorry this took so long.  Written with @interncastiel

Dean isn’t prepared the first time that Castiel goes into heat around him.

He knew it was coming; Cas had talked about going off his suppressants shortly after they mated, and Dean was supportive of whatever decision Cas made. He thought he knew what to expect, too: neediness, fever, drive to mate. He hadn’t completely zoned out in his high school health class.

Castiel Addams isn’t a typical Omega and that’s what Dean loves about him. With his sharp tongued, deadly wit, and an even deadlier aim, Castiel puts many people on the defensive,but dean was enamoured of him from “Go”. When Dean had first started pursuing Castiel during their Junior year of high school, most of his friends had been confused by the choice, since Castiel was far different from any of the other Omegas Dean had dated. He wasn’t sweet or demure and, aside from his slight build, he didn’t really fit into the definition of what an omega should be.

Dean adores Castiel though exactly as he was with his aloof attitude and cryptic conversation. It’s charming. He even likes the way Castiel takes charge in the bedroom. Dean always did have a thing for bossy omegas.

He never wanted someone submissive or docile, who would just flop over and present as soon as their alpha said the word. Dean hates those alphas who make displays of ownership over their omegas. He hates the strutting and posturing and the way they would openly scent their mate if another alpha’s present. it’s embarrassing, for both the Alpha and its mate.

As soon as Cas starts showing signs of heat, though, it’s clear that Dean has no idea what to expect. Waking up in the morning with a whimpering, sweaty Cas Addams clinging to him, crying with need and calling him alpha, feels like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

The 180 degree shift in Cas’ personality scares Dean. What scares him even more is how his body reacts to it.

It’s not just the rich scent of Cas’ sweet slick filling the air, it’s the change in Cas’ temperament. Just seeing Castiel so submissive and diffident switches on some sort of animal part of Dean’s brain he’s never known about before. A primal urge pumps through his veins, telling him to take this omega and reclaim him. The world must realize this is his omega.

Panic rises in Dean and he can’t even find the words to respond. He extracts himself from the room as quickly as he can, muttering a stilted apology, and bolting across the apartment they share before locking himself in his office. Once inside, He slumps down against the wall and covering his ears, hoping to block out Castiel’s pleas for his knot echoing through the place.

Dean knows that hormones can mess with both partners’ moods and personalities during a heat or a rut. He guesses with Castiel being on suppressants all through high school and college, a heat this intense and a shift this abrupt should make sense, but his own response is the one that troubles him.

All day and into the early evening, Dean sits locked in his office, intermittently masturbating in an attempt to take the edge off and trying to zone out. He doesn’t want to ignore his mate, far from it, but he doesn’t want to act like some beast and turn Cas off of him entirely.

He hears Castiel shuffling around the apartment between bouts of heat and occasionally there’s a soft knock or a “Dean?” through his office door. Dean can scent his mate, and it requires all of his willpower not to break the door off at the hinges to get to him.

If Dean lost Cas because he wasn’t able to keep his alpha under control, he’d never forgive himself.


At some point, Dean doses off in his desk chair. He’s jerked awake by a strange clicking noise and the creak of his door opening. Castiel stands in the doorway, looking worn out and smelling like sin incarnate. One of Dean’s flannels hangs loosely on him and he tugs it tight over his naked body.

“Cas,” Dean warns, back his chair away from the door. “Cas, I need you to stay away. I… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would you hurt me?” Castiel asks in a hoarse voice, tipping his head to the side.

“I don’t want to,” Dean insists. “But… but I can’t control… “ Dean closes his eyes, the scent of slick and musk tickling his nose. “I don’t think I can keep myself in check.” He swallows hard, ashamed by the admission. The silence hangs between them and Dean feels his world caving in. Castiel is probably completely disgusted with him.

Instead he takes a step into the room. “Dean,” Cas replies. “I know you would never hurt me. I trust you.” Dean looks away; he doesn’t deserve this kindness from Castiel. Cas walks slowly to him and Dean flinches at the warm, gentle touch of Cas’ hand against his face.

“I’m not scared of you and I’m not angry at you because of what your biology is telling you,” he continues. “If I were to be made at you about anything it’s making me chip my favorite lock pick set.” Castiel pushes Dean back in the chair with more force than expected.  Dean can’t control a groan and he settles himself in Dean’s lap, grinding down on the beginnings of his knot.

“You can make it up to me, though.” Castiel leans in close, and Dean shivers a little as a warm breath puffs past his ear. “Take care of me, Alpha. I need you, need your knot.” Dean can practically feel his eyes dilate and every drop of blood in his body travel to his cock. In an instant, his hands are hooked beneath Cas’ thighs and he’s practically running them toward their bedroom, pressing kisses to Cas’ swollen lips between begged apologies and promises.

Dean doesn’t really remember much of the frenzy of their love making, just how beautiful Cas looked, spread out and writhing on their ruined sheets and how complete he felt as his knot locked into his mate.

Afterwards, they lay in a tangle on their bed, Dean wrapped around Castiel as he kisses down the column of his neck, murmuring “mine” again and again.

“Always yours,” Castiel assures as he pulls Dean’s arms tighter around him.

When Jared played soulless Sam, I kept trying to pin down on the exact physicality that changes to not!Sam, the way he lifts his brow and carries his face.  In his first meeting/reunion with Dean, he does that little smile and nod and he doesn’t care but he knows this is how it’s supposed to go.  He doesn’t feel the connection but he still follows the things he remembers Dean saying and modelling for him, still comes running to Dean when he doesn’t know what to do because he doesn’t trust himself because he knows something is wrong with him.  Even when he says he doesn’t care about Dean he still falls right back into that codependency pattern and I just find that so interesting.  All this is only possible because Jared’s acting is amazing.  

Then the polar opposite of soulless Sam is Sam through the fallout of the Trials and Gadreel’s possession, you can tell how Sam is feeling even when he’s not talking because Jared has a way of using his features to express and convey what he meant to say or want to say just by watching his face and you completely forget he didn’t actually speak because you already know what’s up just by looking at his face and body posture.

Jared is a pretty great actor.

Hogwarts High Inquisitor

Characters: Dean x Reader

Words: 1518

Summary: Everyone slowly starts to realize how bad Professor Umbridge really is, and what could happen to Hogwarts.

Part 32 in the Magic Series (Harry Potter AU).  Read Part 7 herePart 8 herePart 9 here, Part 10 here, Part 11 herePart 12 herePart 13 herePart 14 here, Part 15 here,Part 16 here, Part 17 here, Part 18 here, Part 19 here, Part 20 here, Part 21 here, Part 22 here, Part 23 here, Part 24 here, Part 25 here, Part 26 here, Part 27 here, Part 28 herePart 29 here, Part 30 here, and Part 31 here.

Alright, things are building!! Anyways, I am glad to end this first, awesome Magic Weeked! :) We have a lot of fun weekends to come! Enjoy!

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Damnit, Dean. I told you, that it’s alright“, the (h/c) haired girl reassured to her boyfriend for the thousandth time.
„(Y/N), you don’t actually think, that I am letting you go there all by yourself, do you?“

(Y/N) just let out an exhausted sigh, running a hand over her face. As if she was searching for a way to solve the problem, she turned around, letting her gaze wander through the streets. Though her expression already revealed that she knew she would not manage to convince him of the contrary.
„You’re ruining the plan, you know that?“, she asked, her voice sounding tired. She was obviously not exspecting an answer. Which didn’t keep Dean from answering her nonetheless. „That wasn’t a plan, that was suicide. You’re not going in there all alone. Period.“

Yeah, because they will be a lot more willing to speak, if a big, muscular guy accompanies me“,  (Y/N) said more to herself, than to him, trying to regain her posture, to act at least out what has been left from the plan.

Silently, they entered the bar, trying their best to act inconspicious. At least (y/n) did. Dean, dressed in his leather jacket and boots, seemed more like a bodyguard, than just her a company.
One by one, Dean let his gaze wander over the people in the room. Demons, witches, vampires. Everything gathered at one place.
‘Brilliant’, he thought to himself as he positioned his hand nearer to the knife he carried in his pocket, ready to react at the first movement he’d sense. Most of them acted on, like nothing had happened, but the tension in the room revealed, that everyone was aware of the two human beings that had just entered their territory.

(Y/n) bit her tongue. She seemed completely calm, yet Dean could see, that she was tensed.

The actual plan had been for her to go inside, get the information, and leave again as soon as she could, preferably without getting any attention at all. Truth was, Dean was more than aware of the fact, that the last part was almost impossible if he’d follow her, yet, the risk of her getting attacked while all alone, didn’t want to fit in his mind.
He didn’t regret his decision.
Slowly he moved his fingers, until he felt the cold blade against his skin, just waiting for its turn.

As they had reached the bar, the bartender turned to (y/n), eyeing her suspiciously.
But quickly his gaze shot up, and he looked directly into her eyes. Deaned tightened the grip around his knife. „You’re not welcomed here“, the man hissed, showing his yellow, crooked teeth. Within a second, the watery blue colour of his blue eyes had changed, and yielded darkness.
A demon. Of course.

„I just want information“, (y/n) said, and even though her voice sounded calm and quiet, the look on her face was determined and filled with self-assurance.
She would not accept refusal.

While (y/n) dealt with the demon, Dean carefully watched their surroundings.  One could never know what happened next, in a bar full of monsters.

„Why bring him then?“, the bartender started to speak again, eyeing him suspiciously. Dean noticed (y/n) shoulders tense, though the smile remained on her face.
„One can never be careful enough these days, don’t you think?“
She shifted, leaning to Dean’s great displeasure closer to the demon, while simultaneously lowering her voice. „Especially if one is carrying something, that is worth as much as this.“

Carefully her hand slipped into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a long, stone-like thing. Dean knew exactly what it was.

„The fossiled bone of a Gulon“, the demon whispered, stretching out his hand, to grab it, but (y/n) was faster. „Uh-uh“, she rebuked him, as if speaking to a little child, „first information. Then payment.“

The demon’s eyes started to twitch, greed glistening inside, while he seemed to fight a silent battle in his mind.
„So we are having a deal“, (y/n) more stated, than asked, putting the bone on the table infront of her.
Immediately the hand of the demon twitched to reach what he longed for, but (y/n) quickly flicked out her knife, holding it directly over the demon’s hand.
Her face showed a scolding look. „What did I just say?“
A scowl formed on the demon’s face, but he slowly started to withdraw his hand from the artefact. „Fine. What do you want to know?“
A smirk formed on her face. She knew she had won.

During her conversation with the demon, Dean had watched her quietly. She was surrounded by these bastards, dealing with one of them, even threatening him. All, without once losing her posture. Again he realised, that he didn’t had to accompany her in the first place. He knew, that she probably could and would kick his ass, if he’d ever do the mistake to provoke her.
Yet, she always killed fast, almost preciseley, even though he was sure, that if he’d actually make her angry, his death would be a lot slower and an awful lot more painful.
But this side of her was just one out of the many reasons he had fallen in love with her. Well, not the fact that she could kill him in the first place, but the way she made him stronger. As he had been on the ground, she had been there for him, kicking his ass, until he remembered why he was doing what he was doing. Whatever had happened, she had not once given up.
A loss just made her more determined.

Silently Dean watched, as (y/n) handed over the bone to the demon, who would not realise until later, that it had been a fake.

Mentally he cursed himself. After all he had wanted to keep an eye on the bastards in this room, yet, he had lost himself in his thoughts, not even realising the exchange had been settled.
It had been nothing more than bold luck, that nothing had happened.
But it was too late scolding himself for that. Right now there was just one thing he wanted. To get out as fast as possible.

Slowly they made their way over back to the door. Dean opened it, gesturing (y/n) to leave first. As soon as she safely had stepped ouside, he followed. But as he stood in the streets, she was nowhere to see.
Dean turned his head, trying to find her, but somehow she had vanished.
Dean let out a curse, once more checking the street. „(Y/n)?“, he shouted, but there was no one to answer him.
Without hesitation, he started to run down the street, shouting her name over and over again, but the only answer he received, remained to be silence.
Dean ran up and down several streets, until his breath became heavy and he could hear his own blood pumping through his veins.

„Fucking hell“, he yelled out in anger, in his rage kicking a can that had lain peacefully on the ground, against a near door.
And this was the time he paused. He knew that door. It was exactly the same door, he had left just minutes ago.
He clenched his jaw, very close to crying out in his anger over running in circles once again, as suddenly a soft knock sounded from it.
At first Dean thought, his ears may had played tricks on him, but in the next second he could hear it again. A soft knock, as if someone would ask for him to open.
Slowly Dean approached the door, his knife at the ready. Each step accompanied by another knock,  Dean stretched out his hand to grab the handle, but before he was able to reach it, the door clicked softly, opening by itself.
Hesitating, Dean entered the room once again. He had expected at least half a dozen of demons, ready to jump at him, as soon as he’d stepped inside, but to his great surprise, nothing happened.  Instead, he found the room completely empty. Nothing than silence surrounding him.

The neon lights turned on and flickered weakly, as suddenly footsteps caused him to turn around.
A man stepped in through a door, placed in the back of the room, probably leading out to the backyard.

In his arms, (y/n), shoving her along roughly. He held her close in front of him, his grip tight on her arms which he had turned on her a back, a blade lingering dangerously close to her throat.

I am terribly sorry“, he started, a sinister grin resting on his face, „but I am afraid, I can’t let you leave like this. Not after you were given such valuable information.“
Smirking even wider at his last words, he turned his gaze into the edge of the room, and just now Dean realised the limp body of the bartender, lying there, eyes still opened in shock from the moment his last breath had left his body.
Dean clenched his teeth.
„He doesn’t know anything“, (y/n) growled, „“Why punish him, just because one of your men can’t hold his mouth shut!“
Her face still showed no fear. Just defiance.
Even though Dean wished she’d sometimes be a bit more careful with what she said, he couldn’t help himself, but feeling proud over her, not showing any resignation towards the demon.

„Let her go“, Dean grunted, taking another step towards the demon.
But the demon just let out an amused laugh, his white teeth seeming oddly out of place inside his distorted face.
An awful grin had formed on his face, while he just stood there, staring at Dean, before biting his lip in joy, for what would come next.
In the second Dean realised what was happening, he bolted forward, but he had reacted too slow.
With a quick, trained movement the demon cut directly through (y/n) throat, before vanishing into a cloud of dark smoke, to leave her standing  for just a few more seconds, blood dripping from the wound on her neck.
From this moment on, Dean stopped, not able to react otherwise than to stare at her.
(Y/n) eyes were opened wide, followed by her mouth, as if she was trying to let out a cry of pain . But instead of a sound, it was nothing than blood coming out of her mouth and throat, causing her to make an obnoxious, gargling sound.
She sank down on her knees, still the shock and agony written in her face, before eventually falling over, face down into a puddle of her own blood.

Panting heavily Dean shot up in his bed.
„A dream“, he reassured himself, running his hand through his hair. „Just a dream.“
As if suddenly remembering (y/n) he turned his head to the side, but instead of a peacefully sleeping figure he just saw a bunch of messy linen.
He was alone.
Quickly he got up, nearly tangling up in his own sheets.
Instinctively he grabbed the knife from his nightstand, holding it tight in his right hand.
„(Y/n)“, he called out for you, but didn’t got an answer. Slowly he was moving through the hallway of the bunker, until all of a sudden a scream resonated through the hallway. „(Y/n)“, Dean yelled, running towards the direction of the scream.

Just to figure out, it hadn’t been you screaming. Instead you were sitting on the couch, laughing. Sam was sitting right beside you, looking kind of amused, while a horror movie was playing in the television. From which, obviously, the the scream had came from.

Eventually his brother and his girlfriend turned their heads, finally noticing Dean.
Completely dumbfounded he stood in the doorway, panting heavily, his knife in his hand. He knew he had made a fool of himself.
This assumption was confirmed, as (y/n) started to smirk to him. Even Sam tried to contain his laughter.

„Care to join us?“, (y/n) asked, patting the empty space beside her, but Dean didn’t answer. He still stood there, the knife in his hand, and though he was feeling completely foolish, he let his gaze fixed on you.
„What is it? Did you think I died?“, she tried to joke, just causing him to flinch. (Y/n) furled her brows. „Dean?“, she asked but he had already regained his posture.
He sent a forced smile to them, before turning around, getting back into their room.

Worried (y/n) followed him.
„Dean, what’s wrong?“, she asked, standing in the doorway, hands resting on her hips. But he didn’t answer. Instead he just shrugged and in a frustrated mood, threw the knife on the bed.
„Nothing“, he said, but quickly realised he knew better than that. He couldn’t lie to her.
„Just a nightmare.“

Slowly (y/n) nodded, before walking over to him, wrapping her hands around his neck. Immediately his own hands found their way around her waist, pulling her closer.
„So, what happened?“, she asked, honestly interested.
Dean sighed.
„You died“, he explained simply, looking down on her with a serious look on his face. „Oh“, she answered, starting to understand.
„I lost you. And then you died.“

„Did it look cool?“, she asked, trying to break the tension, but simply getting Dean to let go of her.
„Very funny“, he answered. „Very grown up.“
„Alright, alright, sorry“, (y/n) answered, pulling him into a hug again.
„It’s alright. I’m here, and I am fine.” Soothing, she let her hand run over the back of his head.
“By the way, you do know that probably you would be the one in trouble if you lost me, right?“, she said, a small smile resting on her face.
Dean smiled. He knew that she was right.

(Y/n) got on her tip toes, pressing a quick kiss on his lips. „What do you think, should we try to scare Sam? He acts like he finds the movie boring, but I think I saw him jump once or twice.“
An amused grin appeared on Dean’s face.
She was the only one, able to let him change his mood from bad to good so quickly.

„What are we even waiting for?“

requested by anon

Dean is trying to cram himself back into his manly hunter box now more than ever it seems, to the point that it feels like a complete reversal of where he was in season 8. It’s been bugging me since the end of 10x05 that Dean said “back to staring at motel room walls again,” implying that if he wasn’t going to hunt, he would just be sitting around a motel room all day. I had wondered why they wouldn’t just go back to the bunker, back to their home, and then it dawned on me… going home would feel too much like resting, too much like that new kind of normal he was starting to embrace.

Out on the road, hunting, losing himself in his work… it’s basically all he’s known his entire life, and there’s no time for change when you’re a ticking time bomb. It’s pretty clear that Dean is not doing okay right now, even if he’s trying to act like he is. In fact, I think it’s safe to say he’s just waiting for the axe to fall at this point. He’s doing what he did when he got back from Hell in a way, working to try and keep his mind off of the fact that everything is very far from okay, but he just needs to try and piece back together what he can for the time.

The “real men don’t drink out of cups this small” from 10x06 pretty much sold it for me. I can’t recall the last time we saw posturing of that magnitude from Dean. He definitely sounds much more like his father’s son than we’ve seen in a very long time. At least, far more like the Dean of season 1 than say the Dean of season 8, when who he truly is inside finally started to show through more than it ever had before. After all that freedom as a demon, it feels like he’s trying to go back to who he was many years ago.

In 10x05 he said there’s no singing in Supernatural, but I think demon!Dean would beg to differ. Likewise, I doubt demon!Dean would have given a damn about the size of the cup he drank out of, just like he didn’t care if he had on pants when Crowley was in the room. But that was a Dean without a care in the world and all of eternity in front of him. But even still, he was a man on the run, living life on the road with no sign of stopping or slowing down…

Season 8 Dean probably would have squinted at the size of the cup, because let’s be real those tiny cups are useless, but he would have asked for more once it was gone because I bet he thought that coffee was the bomb. Season 8 Dean though, that was a Dean that cared too much but was maybe seeing some small glimmer of hope for the first time, despite the fact that he claimed he saw no light at the end of the tunnel. He did, no matter how minuscule it may have been, but not if it meant his brother would be sacrificed in the process. 

Demon!Dean didn’t care at all, while Dean in season 8, and now again in season 10 (and really… always) is a Dean who cares far too much, only now he’s living with the knowledge that his time is running out. There’s no light at the end of tunnel because as far as he’s concerned there isn’t even much of a tunnel left anymore. He doesn’t want to be in his home, he doesn’t want to nest, he doesn’t want to walk around in his dead guy robe and sip coffee. There’s no time for that right now… he just wants to be what he’s always been until his time is up.

The cruel irony is that when he wants to work so badly, needs to work to keep his mind occupied, suddenly all is quiet… too quiet in fact. Something big is coming, something bad is going to happen to him, and he’s going to have to drag himself out of that box and say goodbye to the past if he wants to have any hope of saving himself from himself… and maybe a little love and… love wouldn’t hurt either.

my mind is still reeling after watching the new episode but can we please talk about how fucking talented misha collins is????


I still can’t believe that misha is so underrated when he’s so fucking talented. If anyone still thinks misha can’t act after seeing him flawlessly carry out that scene they need to deactive right now.